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ariadnewhitlock · 2 years ago

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Lost in the Supermarket || Andy & Ariadne

TIMING: Last week LOCATION: A grocery store in town PARTIES: Ariadne @ariadnewhitlock & Andy @declinlalune SUMMARY: Ariadne and Andy are both shopping, when they suddenly end up somewhere that is… not home. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

She’d told her parents that she would run and do a grocery shopping before their family dinner. It wa something that had been tradition for years, and despite her lack of needing to eat, it was still something that brought Ariadne comfort, and made her life feel at least partially normal, despite the fact that nearly everything else felt entirely strange.

Ariadne had grabbed a few items and was pushing a cart around the store - trying to not grab too many more sweets (though, thankfully, her parents were exceedingly understanding with her newfound extreme sweet tooth) than were needed. She spotted another figure by the salad dressings. “I - excuse me, I’m between the Italian dressing and the honey mustard - do you have a favorite? Also open to other options.”

Andy needed to pick up a few things on her way home from work, and it made the most sense to stop at an actual grocery store rather than the corner store, or even the pharmacy. If she brought home more peach rings, Kaden may actually kill her. The bottle of wine– not as expensive as anything Kaden would deem good wine, but more expensive than what she and Alex had presented him upon his arrival, was an afterthought. The velveeta block– a stance against Kaden’s cheese-monger ways, a forethought, and the bottle of Italian dressing a means to redeem herself for being called unhealthy.

As she went to grab a packet of croutons, Andy heard a voice amongst the dull radio that played over the speakers. “Uhhh…” She looked back towards the dressings, then pointed to the one she’d thrown in her cart. “I hear it’s healthy, but usually we just eat chunks of lettuce if we think we need greens.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but maybe a small exaggeration. “What are you making? Might determine what’s better and what’s shit.”

“Some sort of mixed greens salad. I think my mom’s going to just throw like, lettuce and tomatoes and lots of carrots. Cucumber, maybe?” Ariadne offered the other woman a small smile, “I think chunks of lettuce sounds pretty fantastic, personally.” She glanced down at the floor, “personally, I’d rather have a bag of gummy bears, but I do at least sort of like salad. I like that you can put lots of different dressings on it.”

“You just - you seem like you probably know stuff, and you’d think I’d know better, but I guess - I don’t know. Long day of classes makes me less sure of myself.” As well as the whole recent undead thing. Ariadne bit her lip, “thanks a lot, for talking to me.”

“Cucumber is good, goes well with Italian dressing.” Really, Andy wasn’t a fan of thick dressings like ranch, which, if one were to look at her other dietary choices, would be a surprise. She hated that she’d become the woman in the aisle discussing salad dressing, but that’d been her sad reality since things had slown down. The lack of running meant a steadier lifestyle, and somehow, that meant discussing dinner plans.

“Gummy bears are good, but peach rings are where it’s at.” She smiled kindly at the younger girl before grabbing another pack of croutons, deciding that she could use a snack for the ride home. Andy’s brows arched at the blonde’s clarification that it seemed like she knew stuff. She couldn’t help but laugh, and with a shrug, she turned fully towards the younger woman. “Sure, whatever. Take my word on the peach rings though, they go above and beyond gummy bears.”

“Ooh, that’s true! I don’t like the dressings that feel all soupy or whatever - if you’re going to have soup, you might as well have that, right?” Ariadne made a face.”Anyhow, thanks. I think I’ll go with that one.”

Another pause, and, “I’ll have to maybe get some of those before I leave.” Even though she’d decided not to get much candy this time, she couldn’t resist trying something fun and new. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d missed out on trying peach rings before, but that could all change today. Ariadne was just about to thank the other woman again when she heard a small crash. “Should we go and make sure everyone’s okay?”

“Haven’t thought about it that way, but sure.” Andy smiled at the young girl, pushing her cart to the side so that somebody else could pass through. As much as she wanted to sit and discuss salad dressings, it was about time she started to head home.

At least, it would have been. The crash was loud and disorienting, but there were no screams that accompanied it. Maybe something had fallen off of the shelves, or maybe somebody ran their cart into something. Andy couldn’t be sure, but it didn’t hurt to go and check it out. At the young girl’s question, Andy nodded slowly before turning on her heel, leaving the cart behind. Andy rounded the corner, immediately taking note of the door that had driven itself into the ground. Except there were no cracks at its base, and nothing else was disturbed. Andy’s brows pulled together and she looked behind her at the blonde. “Did you notice this before?”

At least the other woman was being nice to her. Ariadne was certain that she didn’t make any sense, and so the kindness was even more appreciated than usual.

Except that the red-head had taken off quickly and Ariadne couldn’t help but follow her. Even if she probably shouldn’t have. Curiosity undoing various animals’ lives and whatnot. There was a door in the ground. A door, in the ground, in the middle of the aisle. It sounded like the beginning of a questionably written children’s book. “I - no. I mean, I don’t think so, but I also am pretty sure I’d notice that, no matter how distracted I was. Did you?”

“No, I didn’t.” Andy looked at the door apprehensively, knowing well enough when to leave things alone. She thought about the painting that she and Metzli had gotten sucked through and knew that if something like that happened again, she might not be smart enough to get them out. That’d been Metzli’s doing, and Metzli wasn’t here. Instead, Andy’s company was a kid, probably around Alex’s age.

“Just don’t touch it.” Andy turned her back on the door which might have been her first mistake, because it flung open and an undetermined force of energy began to suck her through, as well as the cookies on the opposite shelf. “No– god dammit, no!” She tried to grab onto the edge of the door, but it was no help. Instead, she was being flung through, encapsulated in darkness.

“That’s super weird.” She made a face again, turning her head to look at the door. “I’d say it’s maybe some art installation, but I - don’t think it’s that.” Ariadne sighed. Which meant it was something else, and probably not something she’d like. Not that she was entirely opposed to new things, but new things that weren’t supposed to be there did a number on her anxieties.

“I won’t.” Except just as she said that, the door opened by its own accord and pulled the both of them in. Which Ariadne really didn’t like. She balled up her fists as they both hit the ground - though it was a few minutes before she opened her eyes - to what looked practically identical to where they’d just been. Except black-and-white. She looked over to the other woman, “uh. I’m not imagining things, am I?”

Maybe Andy had been too afraid to open her eyes for longer than normal, or maybe she’d taken a minute to adjust to the fact that they were back in the grocery store, but it was void of any color, aside from herself and the young girl beside her. Why the fuck did this keep happening to her, and why were portals decidedly opening up to suck her into some other dimension?

At least there didn’t seem to be any fog. Andy looked over at the blonde as she spoke and gave a short shake of her head before she got to her feet. She reached out to help the girl up before turning in a slow circle, taking in their surroundings. Definitely no fog, no lake. Maybe the door was the stupid painting’s cousin. “Just stay next to me, ok?” She cast a glance over at the blonde, offering a small smile. She took a step forward and glanced down the aisle, noting that the cereal boxes which were often in an array of colors looked like something sad out of a catalog that’d been discontinued. “What do they say about Kansas?” She couldn’t remember the exact quote, or the movie it came from, but she knew she was right on the nose with the reference.

“You don’t have to tell me that twice.” Ariadne nodded, trying to do her best to catch her breath. Whatever version of breath she had, anyhow. She wasn’t exactly thrilled - which was an incredible understatement, but still. “I’ll stay right by you.” The woman mentioned something about Kansas –

“Oh, like from The Wizard of Oz?” She looked over to the other woman, “there’s no place like home? Except this is sort of a reverse of that movie, ‘cause in that one she goes to the colorful world, and we… didn’t.” Again, stating the obvious. Ariadne was grateful that the woman didn’t seem to put put off by Ariadne’s utter lack of ability to string together anything remotely coherent. “You didn’t fall asleep, did you?” This wasn’t some awful nightmare she’d created, was it? “Sorry, just trying to wrap my head around all of this.”

Andy wasn’t sure what was happening, or why the door had appeared in the first place, but if it were anything like what had happened at Metzli’s gallery, then there was definitely a way to get out. She took a deep breath and tried her best to center herself. There was no use in freaking out, especially when anxiety was written all over the girl that’d gotten pulled into this mess.

“Maybe? I’m not sure, I’ve never actually seen it.” She wasn’t well versed in pop culture– that was more of Alex’s thing. Though, she wasn’t sure if the movie being referenced was much of an impact to pop culture as it stood. “What?” At Ariadne’s question, Andy shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. This isn’t a Freddy Flintstone situation is it?” She hadn’t taken the time to realize that wasn’t the correct reference, but did it matter? “No, I’m awake, and you are, too, I’m pretty sure.” She bit down on the inside of her cheek as she took another step around one of the aisles, then realized quickly that each had a door. “So I’m guessing you’ve never seen anything like this?”

“That’s fair. It’s not my favorite movie, I just watched it when I was little once or twice.” They couldn’t be trapped forever, could they? Ariadne certainly hoped not. “I don’t know who that is, but no?” Again, she hoped not. She’d been more optimistic as a child, able to try and convince Chance into trying new things (albeit with limited success, but still). “Yes, I’m awake.” I can’t sleep held back on her lips, because that wasn’t something you said to strangers. For all her failures, that was one thing Ariadne had been fairly good about. To prove it to herself, she bit down hard on her lip, and the wince was proof enough.

“Uh, no. I mean, I’ve seen the grocery store, but not in black-and-white, and I’ve never gotten pulled through a magic - is that the right word to use? I don’t know - but still, a magic door. Have you?” She couldn’t have, could she? Because things like this didn’t happen. Except that clearly they did, given the situation that the two of them were in at the moment. Ariadne looked over the other woman’s shoulder. “Uh - I think I see another door?”

“Huh.” So maybe she and Ariadne had more in common than Andy had originally thought. Where the blonde was all nervous energy, Andy felt like she was going to bolt through the ceiling. Maybe that was because of the nerves, but she had to get them out of here– wherever here was. She cursed herself for already having been in a similar situation. She looked for labels, but everything seemed to be a mish mash of words, not really forming any coherent sentence.

At her question, Andy looked over her shoulder at the younger girl and shook her head, then thought for a moment. “Got pulled into a painting once. Had some evil fog, but I got out.” She left Metzli out of the story, not wanting to out them for their cursed paintings. “But a grocery store turning black and white and a bunch of doors popping up? Nah, this is new.” The subject of magic should have been a touchy one, because that in itself had ties to the supernatural. But Ariadne seemed to know about it, so Andy didn’t bother trying to convince her it was something else. That wasn’t her job anymore, anyway. She wanted to protect people, but not by lying to them.

Once they came upon another door, Andy’s brows pulled together. She opened it and felt herself being pulled in again. Darkness, and then– the same environment. Black and white– void of any actual words on the packaging, and more doors. “What the fuck.” At least this time she hadn’t landed on her ass. “Hey, kid?” Andy called out, quickly stepping out of the aisle and looking down at another.

“Come on, I thought art was safe.” The words spilled from her mouth involuntarily, “sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me. I just - I’m so sorry you had to deal with that. Glad you got out.” Ariadne nodded. “It’s a very weird - no offense to the black-and-white store - situation - and I mean, getting lost in the store is one thing, but this seems to take that a few steps further.” It was all very confusing, the whole magic doors thing, but since apparently vampires and werewolves and what she was were real, it only made sense for magic to be, too. Maybe. It was giving her something of an awful headache, but she could focus on that later. Not now, when she wasn’t even in town. Or in the real town.

Ariadne watched as Andy disappeared into another door, only to fall out of another one moments later. “What the heck is right.” She glanced up at the door. “Why does it have a number on it?”

“I said fuck.” Andy squinted at the door, but prematurely shook her head at the blonde for what she had said. “Sorry. I’m just. Frustrated.” She grit her teeth and looked at the door that the other had been drawn to before glancing down the aisle, noticing that there were several different doors, all with different numbers. It took her a moment, but she got it.

“The doors. We need to open them in order.” This wasn’t as easy as just finding words carved into trees, but at least she felt like she had it figured out. “It’s like a maze, I think.” She and Alex had gone to a maze in one of the Carolinas after getting back to the states. It’d been an attempt on Andy’s part to impart normalcy into their lives.

“Yes - well - I’d prefer to probably not use that word, if it’s okay with you.” Which wasn’t even the point right now, but Ariadne wanted to make sure that Andy had heard her correctly. “No - I’m sorry. I - you’re obviously allowed to be frustrated, I am too, I just - also confused”

She followed Andy’s gaze. “Order?” She shook her head. Well, of all the people to get lost with, at least it had been someone who was apparently very good at problem solving. If they got back, Ariadne figured it would only be the polite thing to do to offer to buy Andy something, or at least make her a thank you card. “In order. Okay.” She could do that. “Like from 1, or from the highest number?”

Andy ignored her comment about not wanting to curse, deciding that explaining she hadn’t meant offense by it was not important at the moment. The black and white was beginning to merge into itself and it was getting harder to remember what colors actually were, save for the ones she was wearing already. Even her own skin seemed to be dulling out.

“I–” She bit her lip and chewed it between her teeth. “I’ll try to go from the highest. If that doesn’t work, then we know it's the lowest.” Hopefully nothing would happen by doing that. So Andy trotted off, yanking open the door with the number 12 above it. It spat her back out and a shuddering sound vibrated above her head. Slightly disoriented, Andy rubbed her temples, squinting past the aisle she’d been deposited into. “Let’s try for lowest. We should do it together, in case something happens.”

“Okay. Highest first, and then lowest, okay.” Ariadne figured that made sense - as much as any of this did, right now. They had to try something, because if they didn’t try anything, then they’d be stuck here forever - and given that apparently she was going to live forever, Ariadne found the prospect of that extremely unappealing. That and she’d be responsible for Andy’s death, even if not on purpose.

“Together works for me.” She looked over at Andy. “I guess we should just… go for it? On three?” Ariadne began counting, hardly waiting for an answer - which she knew wasn’t polite, but she also knew that if she thought too much, she’d get all up in her head about everything and then nothing would be accomplished. “One… two… three.” She stepped into the door, hoping Andy was with her, only to find herself back in the supermarket. Her head was spinning. “Okay - well - that didn’t - should we find number 2, then? I don’t know if that did anything.”

The only reason Andy felt confident in any sense of the word about their situation was because of what happened with Metzli. While she didn’t necessarily want to thank them for the experience since they’d been the one to get her into it to begin with, at least she knew what patterns to look out for here.

Andy followed her through the door and nothing happened. Instead of being spat back out, they simply walked through as if it were a normal door. Her head felt a little fuzzy, but nothing like before. She blinked rapidly, trying to regain some composure, before looking above her head. “Wait. No, look! None of the doors changed. We have to go find number 3 now.” She didn’t wait for Ariadne to follow her. Instead, she headed towards the aisle with the giant number 3 on it, holding onto the knob, waiting for Ariadne to arrive. Once she did, she pulled it open, and she felt herself stepping through, just like before. “Number 4 next.”

She wondered if her technical inability to feel fear was the only reason that she wasn’t completely panicked right now. Even so, Ariadne figured that she wasn’t exactly doing as well as she might have wished.

“Okay, okay.” Andy knew what she was talking about, and Ariadne was extremely grateful for that. “Yes, number three sounds good.” She did her best to follow Andy as quickly as was possible, only slightly flinching this time when they made it through the doors. Which was an improvement, given that she still felt wholly and entirely overwhelmed by the situation at hand. She waited until the other woman was near her, and then ducked through door four, only to once again be spit right back out. Which meant it was working, right? “I think I’m going to need to lie down after this. I never thought of it as so much effort going through doors.”

“I’m feeling a little lightheaded, too, but come on– we’ve got this.” Andy gave the blonde a reassuring smile before she led the way to door number five. The same thing happened to them. They arrived on the other side with no numbers above their heads changed.

She refused to get trapped here in this colorless world. Her own skin continued to desaturate, so much so that even her freckles were barely visible. Andy wondered what her hair looked like. Hopefully she wouldn’t find out. Andy motioned for the girl to follow her towards door number six, and again towards the next few doors before they arrived just below eleven. “Okay, this, and then we’ve got twelve left. Hopefully it… well, you know, lets us out?” Andy’s laugh was anxious, but she pressed on anyway, pulling the door open. As they came out of the other side, just like before, nothing changed. “Are you ready?”

“We’ve got this.” She repeated, barely audible. But still, saying it felt like maybe somehow, that would make it more real. That there would be more of a chance of them actually making it out. Not that Ariadne was entirely sure that she believed in luck in that sort of way, but half an hour ago, she also would’ve said that she didn’t believe in doors that transported you to totally different but the same sort of place, so she figured she couldn’t really speak on the subject.

She looked down at her hand, alarmed to find that it was starting to blend in a little too well with the black-and-white grocery store. Ariadne pressed her fingertips against her temples, doing her best to calm her nerves as quickly and efficiently as possible. Which, of course, was far easier said than actually done, but the thought had to count, right? “We - I’m -” she held up her hand, graying as it was. “What?”

“We do.” Andy wasn’t sure how time worked here, or if it were any different than in the real world. It all still felt like a dream. She wasn’t sure how she was keeping it so together. Maybe it was the fact that the kid next to her was just a kid and needed some guidance. Or, at least, Andy thought she was a kid. She had half a mind to ask how old the blonde was, but was interrupted by her plea.

She looked over and noticed the way that blonde’s hand had begun to meld into the backdrop of the store, fingernails and skin black and white. “Shit. Okay, it’s okay– we just gotta get out, alright?” Andy did her best to give the girl a reassuring smile before she tugged her along to the next door. She wasn’t sure if this was magic or what, but it was fucked up. Once they were below door number twelve, she looked at her and gave her a firm nod. She opened it up, pulling the blonde through with her. When they came out onto the other side, they were transported back to a world of color. Music poured over the speakers and Andy winced at the sudden noise. “We got out.” Thank fucking god. “Your hand– look at your hand.”

“We just gotta get out.” She repeated, both to assure the woman that she’d heard her and to reassure herself. Which Ariadne figured that she might have needed even more than the other woman did. At last from outward appearance, she figured it never hurt to offer kindness to someone else. Especially someone who was literally saving her life.

“We gotta, yeah.” She gratefully let the woman pull her through the door, and she took in a huge gulp of air, half-crumpling down to the floor and leaning back against a shelf. “We got out - I - my hand.” Ariadne looked down. “I - thank you.” She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to re-center herself. “I - I’m Ariadne, by the way. I don’t - I don’t think I ever told you, before.” She stood up, pressing her hands together, as if to make sure that they were actually, really still there. “I’m officially a super not fan of random doors.”

Even though Andy didn’t think that the air in the other grocery store had been any different, it felt like she could actually breathe now. She steadied herself by grabbing onto a nearby shelf, then looked over at the blonde. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she showed that her hand had come back into focus. “Must mean we’re actually back and uh, okay.” She looked down at her own arm, relief flooding through her.

As the blonde gave thanks, Andy shook her head. “Don’t thank me.” It had a double meaning, and maybe she should drive it in a little more, but she got distracted by her name. It was pretty. “Andy.” She smiled fondly at her before pushing away from the shelf. Where the hell was her basket? “Oh, me and you both. Never going to go into a random one again, that’s for sure.” She exhaled sharply and ran her fingers through the end of her braid. “Glad we made it out though, glad you’re in one piece.” Knowing Wicked’s Rest, it could have gotten a lot uglier than it had. “Do you–” She paused, then sighed, “you need a ride home or anything? After you’re done shopping? I can give you one.” If there was anything lasting about the black and white grocery store, then maybe Andy should take Ariadne home.

“Must be.” Ariadne refused to let herself think otherwise. That wasn’t a possibility, it just wasn’t. “It - I’m glad we’re back.” Glad was an exceptional sort of understatement, but it was all that she could manage right now.

“But - I -” she caught her tongue in her mouth, fighting the urge to dispute the comment, to say that she wanted to thank the woman and that she couldn’t stop her from doing so, but refrained. “Sorry. I’m glad you were here to help.” Ariadne nodded. “Belated nice to meet you, Andy. Glad you’re in one piece too.” Which was really not saying nearly as much as she wanted to say, but she supposed it’d have to suffice for now. “Uh - if you don’t mind, sure, that’d be great. I could walk, I like walking, but if you’re offering…” her voice trailed off as she grabbed a box of Cheez-Its off the shelf, before shaking her head and putting them back. Too much salt. A bag of Cheetos instead, in part to see what Chance would say about that. “I - I’ll be ready whenever you are.”

“Mmm.” Andy smiled at Ariadne, and this time it reached her eyes. The blonde was far more polite than anyone else she’d met in Wicked’s Rest, and really, she was pleasantly surprised. She had held her own in the weird black and white world, too, which made Andy curious as to why. It wasn’t her business, and she knew that, but if Ariadne hadn’t freaked the hell out in the weird alternate dimension they’d been thrown into, then what else had she been victim to? Concern ran parallel to paranoia, but she pushed it away, expression neutral aside from the smile.

“No, it’s no big deal, I can drive you.” Andy patted Ariadne’s shoulder hesitantly before passing her by. “I just need to find my basket. Grab whatever else you need and I’ll meet you at the front.” She headed down the aisle before pausing. “And no more doors, except for, you know, the front one.” Andy winked at the blonde before heading off to the next aisle to find her basket before returning to the blonde’s side.

#lost in the supermarket #chatzy #writing #c andy #// i had to do this title ok :/#also i love ci and i love andy sm #thank u for doing this <3

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prismatranslates-cue · 1 year ago

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Girls meet meat! à la carte Part 2

Previously: Part 1

Maika: What do you mean, a long story? I’m all ears.

Honoka: Okay, so when I left the dorm I had plenty of time to get here, right? So there I was, leisurely strolling along and thinking about how fun this barbecue would be.

Maika: So you really WERE excited for it after all…?

Honoka: Uh, duh! I was imagining how great it was gonna be the whole time I was coming here!

Honoka: So then, I suddenly started getting worried.

Haruna: Worried? What about?

Honoka: I mean, we’ll be out in nature all day, right? So we’re gonna need bug spray.

Haruna: I did bring some…

Honoka: Okay, but what kind of bug spray is it?

Haruna: Um, just the regular kind I guess…?

Honoka: That’s what I thought. And I realized, what if it doesn’t agree with our skin? So I went and bought one made from herbs and other natural ingredients.

Haruna: I see! That was very thoughtful of you, Honoka-chan.

Honoka: And that’s not all! Summer may be over but the sun can still be pretty strong, so I also bought some sunscreen.

Honoka: What if someone gets too excited and burns herself on the barbecue? Burn ointment! What if someone can’t control herself and eats too much? Stomach medicine!

Honoka: What if someone gets carried away and trips and falls? Bandages and compresses!

Maika: W-whoa, slow down! Do we really need to worry about all that?

Honoka: You know what they say! Better to have and not need than to need and not have!

Maika: So what you’re saying is, you were almost late because you were busy buying all this?

Honoka: There’s still more, too. I hit up a lot of different stores.

Honoka: Like I thought, “maybe we’ll want to run around after eating!” So I went and bought a frisbee.

Honoka: And then, “maybe we could chill some vegetables in the river!” So I went and bought a mesh bag.

Haruna: It’s a very Honoka-chan way of showing her excitement.

Honoka: Yeah! This is how I roll.

Maika: Well, I guess I can’t fault you for that…and you were on time, even if just barely.

Maika: The real problem now is Shiho…

Honoka: She’s not here yet?

Haruna: It’s already past 10 o’clock…

Honoka: And she hasn’t sent a message or anything either. Strange.

Maika: Whatever, let’s just go without her!

Haruna: Hang on, I’ll see if I can get a hold of her.

Haruna steps away.

Honoka: You never know, maybe she got in an accident or something.

Maika: That would be one thing…but if it turns out she just overslept or something, we should give her a punishment!

Honoka: A punishment? Like what? Make her do all the barbecuing for us?

Maika: No way, that’d be a reward if anything. It’s gotta be something unpleasant, like…not being allowed to smile, maybe.

Honoka: Shiho doesn’t really crack a smile that often anyway.

Maika: Oh…good point. Okay, how about not being allowed to talk!

Honoka: I don’t think Shiho would mind an excuse not to talk, either.

Maika: …Argh, this is hard! What could we do that Shiho wouldn’t like?

Honoka: We could maybe make her buy us all a drink or something?

Maika: Nope! That’s too light! Being late to a barbecue is a serious crime, you know.

Maika: I know! For the rest of the day, she has to do whatever we tell her to!

Honoka: Like a servant?

Maika: Yeah! And she has to reply like this: “Your wish is my command, master.”

Shiho: Please, I’m sorry, anything but that.

Haruna: Oh, Shiho-chan! I was just trying to call you.

Shiho: I forgot my phone at home.

Honoka: That explains why you weren’t contacting us.

Maika: Shiho! You’re late! Explain yourself.

Shiho: Do I really have to…?

Maika: Of course you do! Your reason will determine what punishment you get!

Shiho: A most unavoidable wrinkle of fate conspired to entrap me…

Haruna: I knew you had to have a reason. …So, what happened?

Shiho: I overslept.

Maika: How is that unavoidable?!

Maika: How on earth could you sleep in today?! Did you not really want to go barbecuing?

Shiho: If you’re asking whether I wanted to or not, I didn’t not want to.

Shiho: In fact, I was looking forward to it.

Maika: Shouldn’t you have woken up on time, then? If you were looking forward to it so much.

Shiho: The thing is…I couldn’t fall asleep until very late.

Maika: How come you didn’t go to bed early?

Shiho: I did. I went to bed super early, and yet…

Haruna: Oh, I know. It’s like how it’s so much harder to fall asleep the night before a field trip, right?

Shiho: I’m embarrassed to admit it, but…

Honoka: Oh? Were you really that excited for the barbecue?

Shiho: It’s caused a lot of misunderstandings for me, but I’ve always had trouble falling asleep before field trips and such.

Shiho: And so, the next day…I would be late.

Maika: …Why were you so excited?

Shiho: Do I even need to explain? Going on a barbecue with the four of us…of course I’d be excited.

Honoka: I’m a little shocked to hear that from Shiho of all people…

Maika: Well…I guess I can understand that.

Haruna: Isn’t that great, Maika-chan? Everyone was really looking forward to the barbecue you suggested.

Shiho: Maika, everyone, I’m sorry for being late…

Maika: Don’t you worry about it! You must’ve left in such a hurry when you realized, didn’t you? You even forgot your phone.

Maika: Your lateness has been completely pardoned!

Shiho: Very good. I approve.

Honoka: What’s with the sudden change of tone…

Maika: Alrighty! Let’s start heading to the barbecue site!

To be continued...in Part 3

#CUE #Maika Takatori #Honoka Tsukii #Haruna Mutsuishi #Shiho Kano #Flower #Event Story #Girls meet meat à la carte #Takatori Maika #Tsukii Honoka #Mutsuishi Haruna #Kano Shiho #QC by Budder #QC by Shiku

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Note

i've been keeping a list of possible prompts for you and there's one i have no memory of adding that just says "courtesan nmj????" so i guess that's the prompt you're getting lmao

What Does the Fox Say - ao3

“Second Madame Nie!” a disciple shouted, rushing into her little garden. She didn’t recognize him, but he was solidly built and well-muscled like most of the others – truly, the Unclean Realm was a rapturous feast for one with eyes to see it. Yum, yum. “Second Madame Nie, I have bad news!”

Boo. She hated bad news: bad news meant she’d have to do something, usually, and right now she was seated very comfortably in a pleasant piece of sun in the garden path that’d been made up just for her and to her preferences, with her feet up on a chair and a full plate of fruit from the kitchen on the table in front of her just begging to be devoured, morsel by delicious morsel.

Her schedule was packed!

“I regret to tell you, but your husband has been killed!”

“Oh,” she said, frowning slightly. “Has he? How obnoxious of him.”

How unreliable. Men.

She sighed.

“Second Madame – Second Madame – you don’t understand!” The disciple was all red-eyed and weepy, which was a look she liked, especially in big, stout men like this. The salt added a bit of spice to the whole thing. “You must flee at once! He was killed by Sect Leader Wen in an act of outright aggression – Sect Leader Wen has declared war – the Wen sect is invading!”

She nodded and picked up another lychee to start peeling it. She’d get around to fleeing in her own time. As long as this Wen sect or whatnot was being led by a man, she wasn’t terribly concerned.

“They intend to wipe out the inheritance of Qinghe Nie! They will rip out the child in your belly!”

She hummed noncommittally. Really, how attached was she to having a child of her own? Really?

“They will slaughter civilians – execute Nie-gongzi –”

Her hands stilled.

“What,” she said, and the disciple took a step back automatically, proving that he, at least, had something more of a survival instinct than her late husband did. “Hurt my little meat bun? My darling rice roll? My savory zongzi?”

She stood up, diminutive height and over-large belly and frilly clothing doing absolutely nothing to diminish the vaguely menacing aura that darkened the sky around her. She bared her teeth.

“Who does this upstart Wen dog think he is?!”

The disciple blinked owlishly, but nodded, seeming relieved that she’d finally accepted his concern, though she could see on his face that he was thinking that her reasoning was – characteristically – a little strange. But then again, and she could see this thought process on his far too honest face, it was well known that the second Madame Nie been quite strange ever since Sect Leader Nie had found her in some lonesome place with no family or background and brought her back to be his new wife nevertheless.

Such a charming man. Pity about his loss, really.

“You have to flee at once, we can’t possibly fight so many people,” the disciple said once more, and this time she nodded in agreement. “We can escort you to a hidden exit –”

“No!” a little voice called. “We can’t go.”

She turned to look, and there was the little pork-and-shrimp dumpling himself, chubby-cheeked and earnest-eyed, looking as delicious as always.

“What do you mean, fish cake?” she asked. “Of course we have to go. Didn’t you hear what this strapping young man said? This Wen person wants to kill you!”

“If Father is dead, then I’m the sect leader,” her stepson said. He was serious and solemn in a way that made her want to pinch his cheeks and bury her face into his belly to blow raspberries, and also possibly to eat him right up, flesh and marrow and gristle and all. “That means it’s my responsibility to preserve the Nie sect.”

“Nie-gongzi, no!” the disciple cried, throwing himself to his knees in a dramatic display of loyalty. “You would only die – far better for you to run, and live!”

“Then isn’t the same true for everyone else?” the tasty little dish asked, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. Possibly he was trying to put on a fierce expression, maybe, she couldn’t quite tell sometimes. He was so cute. “Why should I live, and them not? I refuse to buy my life with their deaths!”

“But – Nie-gongzi –”

Her charming little honey cake shook his head and held up a hand to stop the disciple, turning to look at her instead.

“Second Mother,” he said, and he had that wholesome trusting expression again that was such a perfect little one-shot-kill to the heart, ugh. “You always said you’re the best at hiding. The best in the world, no one better among all the gods or demons!”

She was, too. She couldn’t help but preen a little, proud.

“– can’t you do something?”

“Oh, darling cabbage bun,” she said, not without fondness. “I can hide myself from even the net of Heaven itself if I so choose, from gods and demons alike, and I can most certainly hide a small group from any mortal eyes that dare to look, if you don’t mind being a little tiny bit dishonorable about the business. But an entire sect? That’s a bit much, even for someone as talented and skilled as me.”

Her stepson looked up at her, all straight-steel sincerity and upright righteousness wrapped into a perfectly edible little snack-sized package. “If we split them up, the sect could be small groups,” he said eagerly. “Couldn’t you do something then?”

He was so cute, and he trusted her. He trusted her, believed in her, felt that she could perform miracles with a wave of her sleeve if only she so wished.

It was awful.

She couldn’t bear it.

“Oh all right, you nummy little slice of roast pork belly,” she said, yielding. “But I’m telling you now, it won’t be the least bit honorable! There’s only so many excuses you can come up with for having a lot of strong men with wide shoulders and women with thick thighs hanging around, and not a single one of them has the slightest bit to do with what you people consider to be appropriate.”

“That’s all right. Preserving human life comes first, always.”

The disciple looked between them, clearly completely confused. Clearly all his effort had been spent on developing the muscles in his arms (quite nice) rather than his brain (quite slow).

“What?” he said. “What’s happening?”

“We’re saving the sect,” Nie Mingjue announced happily, clapping his hands together. Too precious, too precious entirely; she’d have to make sure no one else even thought about going near her darling little snackling. “Tell everyone to prepare to evacuate.”

“That will take too long,” she said, and smiled, with teeth. “Let me call some friends to help.”

When the Wen sect arrived at the Unclean Realm, they found the gate open.

That was unexpected enough, but when they entered, they found that the entire place had emptied out – not just of people, but of everything else, too. There wasn’t a single intact chair or table in the entire place, not a scrap of cloth nor a bit of food, like it’d been swept clean by locusts or wild monkeys come to pilfer whatever they could.

Even the paving stones where arrays had been laid out by the Nie sect’s ancestors had been pried up and carted away.

Sect Leader Wen ordered a search, but there wasn’t any trace of it – of the people, of the stuff, anything.

No one ever found out what happened.

Jin Guangyao despised social events, he’d found.

It was one thing when it was something he’d planned himself, where the work was interesting enough to distract him, but when he was an honored guest for someone else…miserable. Utterly miserable.

The only thing more miserable was when the host was his erstwhile father, from whom he’d forcefully extracted recognition. With Wen Ruohan as his backer, indulging his favorite torturer as if a beloved pet, there wasn’t much Jin Guangshan could do to refuse, and neither could he force Jin Guangyao to do anything on his behalf, either. And so Jin Guangyao, sitting as always by Wen Ruohan’s side, right beneath his sons, was now an honored guest at his father’s house, getting offered his pick of prostitutes as if the man had no notion of the irony.

Maybe he didn’t. Jin Guangyao couldn’t quite tell if his father had just forgotten his origins, thinking his bastard son too unimportant to remember the details of, or whether it was meant as a deliberate insult – who could tell?

“Oh, right,” the simpering idiot in front of him, a nephew or cousin of some sort to the sect leader, said. “Our dear Jin Guangyao is known not to like the gentle flower queens, even when they come from the finest houses in Lanling. Isn’t that right, cousin?”

Jin Guangyao’s fists clenched. A deliberate insult, then.

Despite that, his face remained neutral. Instead, he chuckled and said, “The appeal is limited. After all, I have seen the best of them.”

Beside him, Wen Ruohan nodded and smirked. He appreciated Jin Guangyao’s devotion to his mother, though Jin Guangyao suspected it was because he thought it funny that Jin Guangyao would bother to honor such a lowly woman – but what he thought didn’t matter, not really. All that mattered was that he let Jin Guangyao pay his respects to her to his heart’s content.

“Well, you’re in luck!” the idiot Jin Zixun said, looking absurdly smug. “We have something of a different flavor than the usual tonight – we’ve invited entertainment from the local branch of Splendid Spring.”

Jin Guangyao barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes.

The Splendid Spring Palace was a series of brothels that had popped up fully formed just about everywhere some years back, with madams and girls and musicians and bodyguards of all sorts. It was so patently a political move that Jin Guangyao had barely bothered to pay attention to it once he’d become actually powerful, and Wen Ruohan hadn’t paid attention to it at all. After all, in the unlikely event that the business really was backed by a cultivation sect that didn’t care about its face any longer, anyone who needed to use such a façade to gather power was clearly beneath notice.

Jin Guangyao had paid only very little attention, but to different and unusual aspects of the place: by all accounts, they were surprisingly decent employers as far as places like that went. They didn’t steal girls or accept unwilling goods – they had some connection with the merchant caravans, or at least one of the companies that helped coordinate routes and provide protection to such things, and they were as meticulous about checking things over as they were about seeking refunds if they were dissatisfied – and they did accept married girls fleeing unhappy marriages, which not everyone did. They did buy up all the girls in the local markets wherever they were, but they swept them away and brought them back transformed, even the ones that wouldn’t sell because they were too ugly; Jin Guangyao assumed that meant they had people who were talented in make-up and clothing, since the usual rumors of the girls being blessed with a yao’s enchantment were obviously ridiculous and nothing more than the usual marketing gimmicks that brothels since time immemorial had tried.

Even once they had the girls in hand, the places were pretty decent: they had physicians on staff to help with the usual side effects of the business, made sure their girls were clean and healthy, and were said to even limit the number of customers a girl would be obliged to take on in a given evening…honestly, knowing as he did the brothel business, Jin Guangyao sometimes wondered how they’d managed to bespell enough people to even make money in the early days. At any rate, whatever they’d done, it’d worked, because by now they had a solid enough reputation to trade on.

In short: a decent enough place, far better than the usual run of the mill. Once he’d had the ability to do so, he’d even pulled a few strings and arranged for the better of his mother’s old compatriots to end up there, since he couldn’t convince them to leave their old professions behind entirely.

Anyway, if they also seemed to have a sideline in information brokering and assassinations, well, let them. In the cultivation world, where the only thing that mattered was strength, real strength.

A little thing like that wouldn’t make any real difference.

Or so Jin Guangyao had thought.

He found himself re-thinking that, though, when the entertainment in question came out. There were the usual set of attractive (albeit in a wider variety of shapes and sizes than usually seen) dancers, dressed up in silks that seemed actually high quality, and plenty of strapping young men carrying sabers – dancers as well, once assumed, to provide some spice to the entertainment, and implicitly on the offer for men who cut their sleeves or women with more flexibility, like widows or ones with especially permissive husbands. Wen Ruohan’s wives were in that latter category, and they were already whispering to each other excitedly, looking at them.

They’d even brought in the local madame, who was…

Well, she was actually breathtaking, even by Jin Guangyao’s extremely jaded standards. She had hair that fell almost all the way to her ankles, shimmering in the light, and dark eyes shining with liveliness, a smooth and ageless face that simultaneously suggested youth and health but also winked at knowable experience, the features characteristic of what his mother’s employers had called the ‘fox-face’. As if to emphasize that, the lady was wrapped in fox-fur and draped in embroidered brocade, with little stylized foxes running up and down the hems of her clothing and along the gazy silk draped on her shoulders.

It ought to have looked absurd, looked gaudy and overwrought and overdone, but it didn’t.

She was a thousand dreams of wealth and beauty and power and sex appeal all wrapped up in one, and even Jin Guangyao – who was in his personal preferences quite firmly a cutsleeve – couldn’t help but intrigued by her, wondering what it might be like to touch the hem of such a glorious creature.

And next to her…

The lady was accompanied by two men that seemed completely different from each other. One was a slender and winsome young man, fluttering his eyelashes from behind a fan with a charming smile, emanating the appeal of softness and weakness, ready to be indulged. While the other…

Jin Guangyao swallowed.

He was the exact opposite of the first man. Clearly strong, muscular and powerful, and tall to the point of towering, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist, a chest that you could lean your head against and an ass that begged to have someone’s hands on it – and there were his hands, big and broad, perfect for holding someone down or up if they so wished and of a size that was very promising as to what was only hinted at under his clothes. His face was hidden behind a veil as if he were a woman, marking him, like his comrade, as one of the available courtesans of the Splendid Spring, but his body was visible under clothing clearly cut to put it to the best advantage.

And oh, what advantages it had…!

“It seems we found something to the tastes of dear cousin Guangyao after all,” the idiot said mockingly, sniggering and snorting like the pig he was, and for once Jin Guangyao didn’t even care.

“Who’s the woman in front?” Wen Ruohan asked, ignoring their interplay. He seemed utterly fascinated, almost spellbound, and Jin Guangyao couldn’t blame him one bit. If this woman had been at the same brothel as his mother, there wouldn’t have even been room for jealousy or shame; his mother would have gone straight up to her to ask for some tips. “She seems…familiar, somehow.”

“That’s the madame of the Splendid Spring,” Jin Zixun said proudly, as if he’d done anything at all in relation to this – nonsense, of course. Everyone know which brothels were backed by the Jin sect, and Splendid Spring wasn’t one of them. He was acting as if he deserve a pat on the back just for the introduction! “That means she’s not for sale.”

His smile faded a little, twisting in a small bit of bitterness. “Or so she told my uncle, anyway…although I’m sure if it were Sect Leader Wen asking, the answer would undoubtedly be different.”

Probably because Jin Guangshan couldn’t slaughter prostitutes with impunity if they said no to him, whereas no one could stop Wen Ruohan from doing any damn thing he pleased.

Wen Ruohan grunted, pleased by the answer – he was a possessive man, in the rare events that he did exert himself in the realm of women, and there had been more than one instance where he’d stolen away some girl his sons had been eyeing first just for the joy of having had her first – and raised a hand, catching the lady’s eye and gesturing for her to come over, which she did.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She laughed. “You can call me Hu Jiuwei. With the ‘Hu’ being the character for fox.”

Jin Guangyao tried not to choke. There were false names and then there were false names – the lady’s theme was already clearly related to foxes, given her fox-face and fox-fur lining and the foxes embroidered onto her robes. Was the over-the-top name really necessary?

“It’s a fake name,” she added, unnecessarily.

“I see,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding a little choked himself. Possibly it was the woman calling herself ‘Foxy Ninetails’ and then kindly reassuring them all that the name was false as if she thought them too dumb to figure it out that was tripping him up a little. Jin Guangyao couldn’t tell if she was doing it deliberately in order to make her frankly inhuman beauty a little less frightening, or maybe she was blessed with so much beauty that she hadn’t bothered to cultivate her brain at all. “Are you our entertainment for the evening?”

She smiled, and any complaints Jin Guangyao (or indeed Wen Ruohan) might have had about her intelligence faded away at once.

It was that type of smile.

You could wreck nations with that type of smile. Jin Guangyao couldn’t help but wonder: how had a woman this extraordinary ended up in a brothel, of all places? How had no one snatched her up to keep her all for himself before now?

“My sons and I –” she gestured at the two behind her, “– would be more than happy to provide you with all the entertainment you could possibly want.”

Her smile widened.

“We’ve been hoping for an opportunity like this for a long time.”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #second madame nie #jin guangyao #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #what does the fox say

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larryjohnsonsbitch · 4 years ago

Text

Possesive!Larry x reader

i said it would be out tomorrow but i’m god so it’s here now haha

let me know if you would like me to make one with gender neutral pronouns

word count: 2593

she/her pronouns

Warnings: smut, alcohol, possesive behaviour, sal x reader kiss,

You had been dating Larry for a while now, he’s your first boyfriend and you couldn’t be happier with him. He always comes to your work during your breaks and even sits down at a table and orders drinks while he waits you to finish your shift, so there he sat now looking at you so tenderly it made your heart race. He had been here for around 2 hours, ordering various drinks while switching between watching you and going on his phone, the only thing you worried about was how long he had been waiting for you, and that you still had another hour ‘till knock off. So, you continued serving tables and taking orders, making sure he was okay when you could to which he’d reply “I love you enough to wait” with a squeeze of your arm, it didn’t really answer the question but nothing stopped him from leaving so it stayed like that until you finished and as you took of the apron which the restaurant made you wear you felt a pair of arms around your waist and a face nestling into your neck, you laughed. Spinning around to face him and peck his cheek. “I don’t like you talking to all those guys” he pouted “why can’t you just stay with me” he finished the sentence with a kiss to your head and you had never felt more loved.

“I would love to stay with you, Larry, but I have to work so I can pay rent” you smiled, setting down the apron, taking his hand in yours and lightly squeezing it. “lets go, love”

You and Larry walked back to the apartments, hand in hand, until you reached his room. Flopping down on the bed he opened his arms for you to come cuddle him, you happily obliged settling between his legs, your head on his chest as you listened to his heart, his hand made its way to your hair tugging on some strands as he brushed through it with his fingers. “I’ve seen all of you and your flaws ,I still love all of you so much” he said into your hair “I don’t think many others would”

The sentence sat wrongly in your stomach, you couldn’t tell why though. He was right. Not many people would love you flaws and all. So in response you lifted your head, pressed a kiss to his lips

“I know” you said lips still so close you could feel his breath.

The two of you laid like that for hours before Larry spoke again. “Sal invited me over for a movie tomorrow, I want you to come too seems its your day off. I hate when we’re apart” you agreed to go and before you knew it you were asleep, nestled closely to Larry.

The next day you and Larry were at Sal, Todd and Neil’s place snacks in hand, Larry’s arm was around your waist as you waited for Sal to answer the door. Todd and Neil were out for a date for the day so Sal had the place to himself. The front door opened revealing Sal, his hair down and mask on but with the lower straps unbuckled to allow him to eat, he stepped back allowing you and Larry through the door. “hey guys, good to see you” you couldn’t se his face but you assumed he was smiling by the way his mask moved upward. You walked inside Larry’s hand on your waist felt much tighter now.

“yeah dude, wouldn’t miss watching a horror movie with you man” Larry said while making himself comfortable on the couch in front of the tv, snacks discarded on the coffee table, the horror you were about to be watching was sitting beside them , ‘Scream’ it had been released earlier this year but you had never gotten around to seeing it. Sal came over sitting beside Larry, putting himself in the middle, you sat beside him turning to look at Larry he looked a little annoyed.

“you alright, love?” you asked, trying to make sure he was alright.

“come here” he said his voice was soft but far too stern, your eyebrows perked up as you got up going to stand in front of him awkwardly, he grabbed your hands a little too hard as he pulled you into his lap. You were shocked as he wrapped his arms around you caging you in, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“how’s your day been dude” Larry asked Sal, Sal seemed just as surprised as you were, his ears were red. He was probably embarrassed to be sitting right next to Larry as that happened.

“uh, uhm, alright I guess” he said, grabbing the movie and putting it into the DVD player. “are you guys going to that party on Saturday?”

“I mean I would like to..” You looked to Larry, you wanted to go but wouldn’t go if he wasn’t coming.

Larry obviously got the hint as he said “Yeah, it’d be cool to see everyone” and that was the end of the conversation. You each settled in, getting comfortable as Sal pressed play on the movie

The movie was great and you all ended up more comfortable at the end of it, despit the multiple scares you had.

“oh yeah! Sal you just got the Nintendo 64, right?” you said, you nearly completely forgot to ask, you had heard Larry mention it briefly and you wanted to see if Sal would let you come over so you and him could play together sometime.

“yeah, I did, why? You wanna play sometime?” he asked

“omg, yes please! I was gifted Mario Cart but I haven’t been able to play it yet” you pouted and Sal laughed “but yeah I’d love to play it together if that chill with you?” you hardly noticed Larry grip tightening around your hips as you talked.

“yeah, that’d be awesome! Come ‘round whenever, you’re always welcome” you smiled at the words and he rubbed the back his neck; that’s when Larry started lightly biting the sweet spot on your neck, your back arched and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to stop any sounds. Your face was hot and you felt far too embarrassed to stay in the room.

“i-I-I I’m just gonna quickly go to the bath-bathroom” your words struggled to come out smoothly due to the embarrassment. You quickly rushed to the bathroom; hands braced against the bathroom sink as you tried to calm down. Once your face was no longer burning and your heart and breathing were steady once more you stood up as straight as you could and walked out hearing the hushed whispers of Sal and Larry, they were fighting. You didn’t wanna intrude but it was hard not to let curiosity beat you.

“dude, I don’t like her what the fuck, I would never do that” it was Sal

“why were you eye-fucking her since we walked through the door then” Larry was angrier than you had heard him before.

“I wasn’t, dude, I don’t know what’s going on but you can’t just embarrass a girl like that, she looked ready to cry before”

“so you do like her?”

“what! NO!” they weren’t whispering and you decided to make them stop by heading back to te bathroom and yelling back to them.

“you guys aright out there?” Larry was the one who answered

“yeah babe but I think we should get going now, I forgot that my mum asked me to help out with putting up a shelf”

“okay then” you walked back out to them, smiling, they couldn’t know that you had heard them. Sal was refusing to even look at you, you held onto Larry’s arm “thanks so much, for inviting us we had a lot of fun, right babe?” you tugged softly on Larry’s arm.

“yeah, sure” he rubbed his neck with his free hand and looked anywhere but at Sal.

“it was no problem, thanks for coming” you felt bad for leaving with Larry while they were on such bad terms but there wasn’t much else you could do. The entire walk back to the apartments Larry was pouty, stealing kisses when he could. As you got back he went to Lisa reluctantly following through with his lie to leave Sal’s. it was only an hour before he was back with you in his room listening to Sanity falls and acting like nothing was wrong.

…

You could hear the music and see the flashing lights of the party from a few houses away, you and Larry walked hand in hand, He squeezed three times ‘i.love.you’ you smiled squeezing back. It was a comfortable silence around you two, you had already talked about your days’ and what you planned to do tomorrow and your plans to move in together once you’d saved up enough money. It was nice, knowing you weren’t going to have to face all the new adult stuff you had to do now you were 20 and fully out of school, alone. As the party came into view you could see most people were already wasted, red cups littered across the lawn along with steamers and someone’s pants. You laughed at the sight; it was a bigger party than you had originally expected but you had no doubt you would at least know most the people there considering how small Nockfell was.

The music was some upbeat pop band and the house was smelt like beer and sweaty bodies. People were dancing and you and Larry had to force yourself through the crowd, it took a while but you eventually found the gang, even ash was there. You hugged each of them, complimented ash on her new hair and you all fell into conversation but the tension between Sal and Larry was obvious. Larry stopped you from drinking saying that he just wants you to be sober and that the alcohol isn’t good for you even as he made his way through his own drinks and after two hours the gang -minus Todd and Neil who had disappeared into a random bedroom earlier- and some kids you went to school with were in a game of spin the bottle. Larry and Sal sat opposite you and ash was a couple people away so far neither you, Larry or Sal had had to kiss anyone and it was soon Sals turn, he leaned forward spinning the bottle, it spun around quickly but a few seconds later it slowed. Landing on you.

The tension in the air was thick and you expected Sal to spin again, but he looked between you and Larry, once and then again; and just like that he was in front of you a hand to your cheek, he lifted his mask enough for his lips to show; you could feel him shaking through the hand on your cheek, your heart was hammering and you were to shocked to do anything but sit and desperately hope he was joking, but his lips brushed yours and then he pressed a soft kiss to you lips.

Larry had stood up, pushing Sal out of the way and grabbing your wrist tightly enough to bruise, he dragged you through the crowd of people and kicked people out of the bathroom before pushing you in and locking the door behind himself.

“Larry? I’m so sorry I was too shocked to move and i-“you were against the wall, Larry’s hands beside your head. He kissed you. It was burning, different to before, he was burning, and you would burn with him. His tongue was in your mouth exploring ever crevice of you, his knee rubbing between your legs

“can i?” despite the alcohol and anger, he cared enough to ask. You nodded

Pushed against the bathroom wall, the heat between your legs growing hotter as Larry licked a line up your neck stopping just before your ear where he softly bit your earlobe, you bucked your hips up to him trying to get any friction against your core. He chuckled in your ear his voice deep and arousing, it sent shivers down your spine as he started sucking and biting at your neck while he trailed one hand down your chest to the waist of your pants. You wrapped your arms around his neck, a hand through his hair softly tugging at strands, he groaned as he trailed his hand down further; you could feel his fingers through the fabric of your pants and desperately tried to get him to touch you more.

“such a needy little thing…” he whispered into your ear before removing your pants, he lifted your leg, holding it just under the underside of your knee. “up”. You happily obliged jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he caught your other leg pressing you harder against the wall to keep you up.

You could feel his length through his jeans and you grinded against it moaning softly as you did. “fuck” his hand slid upward to your inner thigh just below where you need him.

“tell me how much you need me” he growled, and the dark look in his eyes wasn’t like any expression you’d seen him make before. It was hot. So hot. Your arousal was dripping between your legs, you needed him like he was some form of drug and you loved it.

“I need you” you panted “so bad, Larry, please fuck me” you rolled your hips against his to emphasize and just like that something snapped in Larry. Within a couple movement his pants and boxers were at his ankles and his erection ready to enter your dripping sex, pre-cum leaked through the slit and tip was a gorgeous red. You stoked it lightly and Larry’s head tipped back, a moan echoing through the bathroom. His grip on your hips tightened and he positioned himself at your entrance, he rested his head on your shoulder.

“mine, mine, mine, mine, mine” with each word he started thrusting into you, your head hit the wall and you couldn’t hold back the chorus of moans that escaped you, his name fell off your lips like a prayer and he only went harder as you got louder.

His finger circled your clit, his mouth leaving hickeys across your chest. Your tears stained your cheeks at the overstimulation he was giving you. “every time I see you talk to someone, I wanna kill them. You’re mine, mine!” he hit your g-spot with each word, your fingers clawed down his back leaving marks. The knot that had developed in your abdomen was ready to burst and as your eyes rolled back you were no longer capable of words, only senseless babbles.

“I love you, I’d die without you” he moaned, as you came around his dick; And seconds later he was shooting his load inside you. He didn’t slow down though, and as you grasped onto his shoulders panting from your orgasm you realized he would continue fucking you until you couldn’t move.

“Larry” you pressed your forehead to his, your lips brushing softly despite how hard he was slamming himself into you “I love you, I’m not leaving” a tear slipped from his eye landing on your chest. You knew why he was acting this way, he was scared you’d disappear, leave, like his dad and he would try and do everything in his power to make sure that you didn’t.

#sally face x reader #Larry x reader #Larry Johnson x reader #larry johnson #sally face #Larry Johnson x reader smut #sally face smut #smut

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

Text

If I Fell For You (Part 13) - Whiskey & Cookie Cake

Summary: After returning from his parents, the reader and Jensen have a very special impromptu date. The following day, they make things official and the reader shares an important part of her past with Jensen...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,000ish

Warnings: language, flangst

A/N: It’s not my fault if anything in this part makes you cry. Nope, none. Or if you want whiskey and cookie cake ;) Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

“I appreciate you two coming shopping with me,” said Alan as he stared at the flour section of the grocery store, Jensen off in the deli section getting some fresh meat for the grill. “Would you mind getting two bags for me?”

“No problem,” you said, bending down to get some. You sat them in the cart and walked down the aisle with him as he tossed in some yeast. “Are you gonna make your own hamburger rolls?”

“No, Jensen’ll get some from the bakery. My wife likes to make bread and send the kids home with a fresh loaf or two whenever they visit.”

“By kids you mean Jensen,” you said with a smile.

“Well, the other two are close by. They still get it. He liked it a lot after the accident. Couldn’t keep much down the first two weeks aside from bread and rolls,” he said.

“Why’s that?”

“Something about trauma, grief and a major leg surgery not being a good combo the doctor told us,” he said as Jensen came up the aisle with his own cart.

“Hamburgers. Hotdogs. Oh and steaks for me and Y/N,” he said, smiling at his dad.

“You really gonna milk last night for all it’s worth, aren’t ya,” he said.

“Relax. It’s salmon,” said Jensen with a smirk, his dad groaning. “So yes. You’re gonna eat your fish and stay away from the red meat today and maybe we can start letting last night go.”

“You’re blackmailing me.”

“Blackmailing you would be saying you’re gonna start taking your cholesterol medication everyday,” said Jensen. His dad opened his mouth and Jensen crossed his arms. “Dad. You’re old. Take the medicine. Please.”

“Old. I run three miles every morning. Three,” he said.

“Daddy. Take your medicine.”

“What else do you want?” he sighed. Jensen smirked and walked down the aisle, pointing to the left. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“One time offer. We will never discuss last night ever again if and only if, you get me what is owed to me.”

“This is a grocery store?” you asked, Jensen chuckling. He ran back to grab your hand, pulling you away towards the bakery.

“Boom,” he said, showing off a massive, massive cookie about the size of two sheet cakes.

“Jensen that’s like two hundred dollars,” you said.

“Eighth birthday. I remember being promised a particular cake from this particular store for my birthday if I got a A’s on every single one of my spelling tests all second grade long and guess who kept up his end of the deal,” said Jensen, crossing his arms.

“Spell optometry,” you said.

“O, p, t, o, m, i-”

“Etry,” you said, his dad walking over.

“Well I think I’ll buy the cake for the one that can spell after all,” he said. Jensen’s jaw dropped and he pouted. “Should you tell him or should I?”

“Jensen that cake behind you says Happy Birthday JJ.” He spun around and looked at the cake, cocking his head. “The one next to it says For Mrs. Rodeux’s best speller. Better late than never.”

“Oh. You...got me a cake,” he said.

“I called them first thing to get the second one done. You think I don’t know you kid?” chuckled his dad. Jensen looked at you and narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to share it. It can go home with you.”

“Yes!” he said, doing a fist pump.

“Yeah, figured that’d win you over,” said his dad with a big smile.

“He really likes cookie cake huh,” you said.

“Just don’t let him eat too much at once or he gets sick.”

“I will do my best.”

Later That Evening

“Where’d Daddy go?” asked Zeppelin as you watched him take a bath back home in Austin. You were starting to get him comfortable with at least somewhat washing himself but for the most part he was still too interested in playing.

“I think he went to the bathroom downstairs,” you said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “You want to get in some warm jammies and have a bedtime story?”

“Not particularly,” he said. You got off the bench and squatted down next to the tub, ruffling his damp hair.

“How about we dry you off at least,” you said as you felt the water, a little cooler than you would have liked. “Come on. Time for jammies and bed.”

“No thank you,” he said.

“Hm. Well that sucks considering...well, you know…” you said. He turned his attention away from his boat and stared up at you. “Don’t you know?”

“No. What?” he asked as he got to his feet.

“You don’t know?” you said, his head shaking. “You gotta dry off and get in your pajamas then so we can go see.”

“See what Y/N?” he asked, climbing out of the tub with your help and picking up his towel. You helped him dry off and handed him his shirt and a pair of pull ups. “Y/N…”

“It’s in your room,” you said, never seeing him change faster as you drained the tub. He ran out the second his shorts were on and down the hall to his room, opening the door. He looked up at you and you nodded to his bed. He climbed on top and and you went over to his bookshelf, picking up the stuffed animal. “You know Wolf Wolfington?”

“Yeah,” he said, kneeling up in bed.

“You know how he’s your favorite?” you said, walking over with the animal behind your back. He nodded and you smiled, pulling the toy out. “I thought you might like him.”

“Wolfington!” he said, giving the stuffed thing a squeeze. “This is awesome!”

“I talked to Wolfington you see and he really wants you to get a bedtime story,” you said. “A really quick one even.”

“Okay,” he said, climbing under the covers with his new toy and his favorite blanket. Ten minutes later he was passed out and you put his book back on the shelf, hitting his light off and nightlight on. You skirted out of the room and shut the door. After cleaning up the bathroom, you wandered downstairs and found Jensen on the back balcony.

“Hey,” you said as you opened the back door. You slid it shut behind you, Jensen looking out over the yard. “Feel alright?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. You stood beside him, Jensen shifting behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He rested his chin on your shoulder and you smiled.

“S’nice night,” you said.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. You took his hand and turned back towards inside.

“Meet me on the trampoline in five,” you said. He smirked and headed down the stairs while you gathered up a few items. He was bouncing up and down by the time you got out there, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a container in the other.

“Well this looks promising,” he said, plopping down on his bottom. You set the items down and stepped inside, sliding the container over to him. He popped off the lid and grinned. “You cut up my cookie cake for me.”

“Only if you share,” you said. You cracked the peel off the bottle and took a swig, mouth burning but the taste was good. You handed it to him and took out a piece of cake for yourself, Jensen smirking as he threw back a good two shots. He shook himself out and put the cap back on, taking a big bite of his cake and moaning. He lay back with his head in your lap, smiling up at you.

“I’m gonna keep you,” he said, smirking and taking another bite.

“I’ll make you a deal. You catch me, you can keep me,” you said, leaning down and pecking a kiss to his nose. He wrapped his arms over his head and around your waist, leaving his cookie on his chest. “No silly. You’re supposed to wait until I’m ready.”

“Oh, my mistake, miss,” he said, popping the last of his piece in his mouth. You took a few more of yours and wiped off your hands, Jensen sitting up just in time to tackle you back on the net, making you both along with the bottle and container bounce. “You’re not very good at this.”

“You don’t play fair,” you said, Jensen smirking before he plopped down on top of you. “Jensen.”

“See that’s twice I’ve caught you. I think you should honestly give up now and accept your fate with me forever.”

“Oh no! The cookie cake!” you said. He sat up and spun around, giving you a chance to crawl out from under him and over to the other side of the trampoline. “Sucker.”

“That you’re just gonna have to pay for,” he said. He jumped and bounced over to you, missing you as you rolled away. You giggled and went to stand but he was already right there and picking you up. “What to do with a troublemaker like you?”

“Drink, eat way too much dessert and look at the stars?” you asked.

“Cuddling is non-negotiable,” he said.

“I suppose I can live with that,” you sighed dramatically. He grinned and started to bounce lightly, your arms going around him. “Don’t drop me.”

“Never,” he said, jumping up high with you, your arms squeezing him tight. He laughed and did it again before setting you down. He held up a finger and jogged back to the house, ducking inside and returning with a blanket. He handed it to you and you laid it out on the trampoline, Jensen laying back beside you.

“Just so we’re clear,” you said, taking a sip from the bottle while he got out another piece of cake and trading with you, “I totally let you catch me.”

“Gonna play it that way are we?” he chuckled.

“Yup,” you said, Jensen turning and resting his head back on your stomach. You played with his hair, his eyes closing briefly while he chewed. He stared up at the dark sky, humming to himself. “I can tell you’re better than this morning.”

“Yeah. I know this chick. She has a knack for making everything better,” he said. You ran your fingers through his strands, taking a deep breath. “Did you know I make music on occasion?”

“The guy with guitars and records and music stuff all over his house? No, never,” you laughed. He reached a hand up and ruffled your head.

“I’m serious, like I’ve recorded in a studio. I have an album,” he said.

“Really?” you asked. “You’ve never told me that.”

“I lost the mood for it a while back. It might be coming back,” he said. He was quiet and you twirled a piece of his hair, Jensen smiling and nuzzling back against you.

“Where’d you go during kiddos bath?” you asked.

“Mom had it handled,” he said. You took a bite of your cookie and felt him pull your hand in his hair down to his chest. “Was that okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. You finished off your cookie and he reached into the container for another. “Plane.”

“Where?” he asked.

“Kinda to the left,” you said.

“I think I missed it.” You felt his gaze on you and you turned your head, green eyes looking back. “They get two moms is all. It’s no big deal.”

“They don’t have to call me that,” you said.

“I know.” He went back to looking at the sky, a few stars out in the clear night. “You know I heard from this chick, same one as before and all, that adoptive moms are kinda the shit.”

You sat up and his head wound up in your lap.

“You want that?” you asked.

“Eventually, yeah. After the wedding and everything,” he said. “Speaking of which, and I know a lot of women have their vision and all that but I was thinking maybe you’d be interested in something smaller? You don’t strike me as the let’s have a huge thing kind of person.”

“You want me to adopt the kids?” you asked again. He nodded and sat up, moving an arm around your back.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” he said, your head shaking. “What is it?”

“I don’t...want to overstep and…” you said. He smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper.

“We have permission from the beyond it turns out,” he said. He held it out to you and you swallowed. “She wrote me a letter a few years back after the twins were born. I found it in my desk drawer last fall. I finally read it after we got home tonight.”

“Jensen, I can’t. This isn’t for me.”

“Well if you don’t read it, I’m gonna tell you what it says anyways.”

“This is yours,” you said, pushing the paper back towards his chest. “She was talking to you. This was meant for you and only you.”

“Actually you’re wrong,” he said, putting it in your hand. “Some of the letter was for me but this page? This page I haven’t read because it’s not addressed to me. It’s for you and I need you to read it because this is the last of her voice I ever get from her for a really long time so I need you to read it and tell me what it says.”

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath before unfolding the sheet.

To The Next One,

I hope there is a next one. Like seriously. I’m telling you upfront that I was the one that did the asking out, not him. He’s shy and I swear Jensen if you’re reading this I’m kicking your ass the second I see you again.

“She’s funny,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

So. Next person he falls in love with. Here’s the deal. I got some contingencies for you and him getting together. Technically I have no say. Technically I can guilt trip from beyond the grave though so, you know, I win. But if you are the person he loves, tell him that you love him. He bottles shit up and shoves it down. He pretends he’s fine and he’ll take on the weight of the goddamn world with a smile cause he’s good like that. But he hurts and you’ve probably seen him cry as much as I have at this point. You can only be that good and kind and loving when you got a lot of love jammed in there.

So I imagine he was pretty fucked up after I bit the big one. Probably put on a brave face and powered through. But you know that. Do me a favor and put that boy in his place. Tell him to go cry or watch The Notebook. He says he hates it but it’s what he watches when he needs to cry. You know what else? Encourage that shit more. He’s getting there, really he is. He is the least toxic man on the planet. But you know, try to help him diffuse or something? I used to give him lavender bubble bath and he was all, no way and then next thing I know, he’s taking his bubble bath on a stressful day. Pay attention to that stuff I guess is what I’m saying.

Another thing. Presuming he’s not the most handsome geriatic man there could be when you’re reading this, have a fucking kid with him. Have two if you want, or more. Adopt the three that we made. Or adopt if you can’t. It’s fun and he is so good with a baby. He was walking around with Arrow earlier cooing at her and that’s the most adorable shit I’ve ever seen in my life and you deserve to see it too.

He’s special. Normally I’d never agree to sharing him but if you’re the person he gave this letter to, I’ll make an exception for you like I’m sure you had to make an exception for me. Make him happy and the kids. Let them make you happy. Maybe in another life we can catch up over a drink, figure out how to share there too.

And just between us, don’t stop acting like kids in love for the first time. He won’t and you shouldn’t either.

See you around The Next One.

Dee

P.S. His blue henley is the softest thing on earth. He hides it in his gray suitcase. Steal it or I swear we can’t be friends.

“Y/N?” asked Jesen as you folded up the paper. You smiled and put it in your pocket. “What’d it say?”

“I don’t think it was meant for your eyes,” you said, planting your hands behind you and leaning back. “But she’d like us to do everything we’d like. Also found out a few things I’m gonna have to keep a secret.”

“Oh really?” he said, smirking at you. “Like what?”

“I think that’s between us girls,” you said, laying back on the trampoline. “We are going to share you though so I think you’ll like that.”

“You’re really not gonna tell me?” he chuckled. “After all that?”

“She loves you a lot. I mean a lot Jensen. Pretty much it’s her asking me to take care of you guys and some little ways to do that,” you said. He nodded and lay back, smiling to himself. “Do you-”

“No. If I change my mind I’ll just ask to see it,” he said.

“Why’d you finally read the letter she had today of all days?”

“I was ready, after my parents and how you acted. I’m not letting her go or moving on so much as...I want my first girl to love my second girl and I’m pretty sure you two would care about each other, for me and the kids sakes.”

“Well I gotta love her. I happen to know the location of a certain...shirt I’m supposed to steal,” you said. He turned his head and his jaw dropped.

“She told you about the blue henley! No, it’s so soft!”

“I was instructed to steal it so I’m afraid I must make this sacrifice for Dee. It’s really the only respectable thing to do.”

“You two are somehow still managing to gang up on me,” he said with a laugh. “Oh my God. I don’t know if I can handle an afterlife with the both of you.”

“Yeah but threesomes on the reg,” you said. He let out a deep laugh, running a hand over his face while you giggled. “Sorry. That was so inappropriate.”

“No, no that’s Dee for ya. She would be more than down,” he chuckled. “Yeah, she’d like you a lot.”

“We both have excellent taste in men,” you said, reaching for the container of cookie. There was one piece left and you held it out, Jensen leaning up to take a bite.

“That’s not the whole thing right?”

“Jensen it was the size of a sheet cake. This is like, a fifth of that,” you said.

“Good cause as you can see, I have no cutoff when it comes to this stuff.” He took another bite and you put the rest in your mouth, his eyes narrowing. He pecked a kiss to your lips and pulled you to lay back with him. “I have a fun idea for tomorrow while the kids are at school and daycare.”

“Lay in bed naked and drink coffee?”

“That is an excellent idea we will be touching upon Tuesday morning. However, it seems to me that my fiance is missing something,” he said, lacing his fingers with your left hand.

“You want to go pick out an engagement ring?”

“Hm, I think you’ll just have to trust me on this one,” he said.

“Okey dokie.” You turned onto your side and curled up beside him. The air was warm and comfortable, Jensen stretching out. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey.”

You woke up to the sound of birds, Jensen groaning beside you. The air felt different and opening your eyes told you exactly why.

“Howdy neighbors,” said Jared. You bolted up and turned on your bottom, Jared chuckling while Jensen grunted again. He pulled you down to lay and Jared laughed. “Stopped by to get the keys to your jet skis when I saw those three inside eating cereal out of the box and watching cartoons.”

“See? They can fend for themselves,” mumbled Jensen. He sat up and brought you with him before rubbing his eyes. Jared walked over to the entrance of the trampoline and smirked. “Shut up.”

“What’d you two crazy kids get up to last night?” he asked.

“Nothing,” said Jensen.

“There is a half drunk liquor bottle and you both smell like whiskey and chocolate.”

“It was cookie cake,” you said. “I think we accidentally fell asleep out here.”

“The trampoline don’t make a half bed mattress,” said Jensen. You crawled out of the entrance, Jared holding the bottle and empty container when you handed them off to him. Jensen followed after as you stretched out. “What time is it?”

“A little after eight,” he said.

“Shit. JJ’s late for school,” he said, Jared shaking his head. “Ah, thank you.”

“Gen took her and the boys. I dropped the twins off at daycare after I came out here and made sure you were both alive,” he said.

“I thought something poked my back,” you said.

“I figured I’d let you guys sleep,” he said. “You want to hit up the water with us? Double date while the kids are at school?”

“We have plans,” said Jensen with a soft smile. “But dinner here later?”

“What are we having? Cause you know we got our tradition for last week of school,” said Jared with a grin.

“You guys handle the sides, we’ll handle the meat,” said Jensen. Jared smirked and you shook your head. “You’re a child.”

“You handle that meat real good,” said Jared, Jensen whacking his arm.

“Be careful with the skis. Wear your life jacket doofus,” he said.

“Yes mom,” said Jared as he handed you back the bottle and container. “Six thirty ish?”

“Sounds good. Oh and if Gen is in the mood to make extra queso…” said Jensen, Jared rolling his eyes. “Thank you Jared.”

“Yeah, yeah. You guys finish up your thing early you know where to find us,” he said. He headed back up the yard as you and Jensen ducked inside.

“I am going to shower,” you said. Jensen grinned and grabbed your free hand. “Do...do you want to shower too?”

“We would save a lot of time if we did it together,” he said.

“I like the way you think Ackles.”

“I am so confused,” you said an hour later, sat on the hood of Baby with a blindfold on. “You know normally you would do the blindfold and then give the ring, not the other way around.”

“Eh, quiet with your back sass. I have a surprise for you that requires some preparation,” he said.

“Oh you know prep work is very important,” you laughed.

“Jared’s a bad influence on you.”

“You’re a bad influence on me,” you said. “So to recap, after we showered and got dressed in what I should say is a particularly flattering romper-”

“I like the red one but you had to go with the blue, didn’t you,” he chuckled.

“The red one is so tight on my ass it’s not even funny.”

“We have different definitions of problems with clothing,” he laughed.

“Well, this light blue one is strapless.”

“I know. I find that very, very appealing.”

“Anyways, my randy fiance hits me out of nowhere with a ring he’s had in the closet apparently and then he kidnaps me away to his muscle car, throws a blindfold on me and after approximately twenty one minutes of driving, mainly highway, we park and he has abandoned me like a damsel to fend for myself in the summer heat.”

“You trying to win an Oscar over there?” he chuckled.

“I’d settle for an Emmy.”

“Oh yeah. Everybody can get one of those,” he laughed. “You can calm yourself little lady. I am almost done and frankly your timing estimation is scarily accurate.”

“Well I know how far the brewery is from the house so not that impressive,” you said.

“We’re not at the brewery,” he said.

“We are literally at the brewery. I heard someone shout your name.”

“Technically we’re on the land next to it, smarty pants. Two more seconds,” he said.You leaned your head back, enjoying the breeze and smell of fresh pizza.

“Hey Jensen. What’s this dinner tradition thing with the Padaleckis?”

“Oh we started it a few years back. This is the kids last week of school. Since tomorrow and wednesday are half days, we kinda always get together as like an end of school celebration that Monday night. We’ll go out this weekend with them but we do a home cooked meal, normally a tex-mex blend sort of thing for this. I got a guy we can get some marinated brisket from on the way home. We’ll put her in the grill on low and she’ll be good to go.”

“You ever have a sandwich with brisket, coleslaw and jalapenos? It is so, so good.”

“I’m gonna have to try that out tonight,” he said, his hands on your arms. “For now though, please remove your blindfold, madam.”

You undid the bow in the back and pulled it off. A small table was set up with a two candles on top, a box of pizza at the end and a six pack beside it.

“You really do know the way to my heart,” you said. You laughed and he walked you over to it, pulling out your folding chair. “I thought I smelled pizza.”

“I know you like the one we sell quite a bit,” he said, taking a seat next to you. “I actually...don’t laugh but this was kinda my idea of how I actually wanted to propose. It’s private but simple. You’ve never been the fanfare type. I thought you would have liked it.”

“You could always ask again.”

“Wanna marry me?”

“Yup,” you said. He wiped off his brow and and you gently smacked his arm. “I do like it. Just us. It’s really peaceful here.”

“I’ve always thought so. Our own little slice of country,” he said.

“I never told you, did I,” you said, smiling to yourself. “I grew up on the outskirts of Austin, about ten minutes down the road.”

“That’s all farm country out there,” he said. You shrugged and he chuckled. “You grew up on a farm?”

“My mom owned acreage from her parents, their parents before them. She left it to me. I haven’t been in over a year. A local farmer makes sure the house is in order but we got fields and a house and barn. I never sold it in case I needed a place between nanny jobs.”

“Would you show me sometime?” he asked.

“Yeah. We can go after our lunch date. Promise.”

“What do you think?” you asked when you walked up the front path to the house nearly an hour later.

“This is gorgeous out here. It’s so quiet,” he said as he looked around at the small hills and trees, the swaying long grass in the breeze. “We should keep this.”

“Huh?”

“You said you kept it for a place to stay between jobs. I think we should definitely keep it though, for us. It’s like a different world almost but it’s within driving distance of home.”

“I haven’t lived here since I was sixteen,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “But...I think you’re right. Mom would want us to keep it. I really did love it here. It’d be great too for when your family is in town. We only have the one guest room but this is a much shorter drive for like your siblings families and they don’t need a hotel or anything.”

“That’s a great idea. I know they’d visit more often if they had the space for the kids and some grown up space even,” he said. You picked up a rock by the steps and grabbed the key, undoing the front door. It smelled only a bit musty as you stepped inside. You left the door open, leaving the screen one shut to air it out as Jensen turned his head. “This place is huge. Your mom got it from family?”

“Her parents died when she was in college. Only child. There’s five good sized bedrooms,” you said. “That was the dining room which honestly we only used for holidays. Stairs, hallway to the back. Left is the family room.”

He started to wander and you followed after, showing him the kitchen before taking him up.

“This was my room,” you said as you opened a door. It was fairly empty aside from a bare bed and a few boxes. He thumbed over the doorframe, catching each notch in the wood.

“Hit your growth spurt around twelve?” he asked. You nodded and he smiled. “I was so short.”

“Not short anymore,” you said while he walked around.

“Do you have any pictures of your mom? The downstairs looked a little bare.”

“Yeah,” you said. You showed him down to the master, opening up a box on the bed. “That’s where they all are.”

“Would it be alright if we took these home with us?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, taking a seat. He sat beside you and you took out an album, Jensen smiling at the first page. “Don’t laugh.”

“That is the ugliest dress I’ve ever seen.”

“I didn’t have much say in the matter,” you said. “That’s from the day I got adopted.”

“You were adorable, even if it looks like you’re wearing a drape,” he chuckled. He turned the page and cocked his head. “Is this your mom?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s so happy,” he said. “I bet that was one of the best days ever for her.”

“I agree,” you said, Jensen flipping some more before stopping at one. “What is it?”

“Where’s this from?” he asked.

“I think Miami. We went there on vacation one year with Ray. I was nine I want to say,” you said.

“Was it March?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Dee went on her spring break to Miami one year in college,” he said. He pointed at a couple of girls that were in the background behind where your set up was, one of them looking very familiar.

“That looks just like-”

“I know. Might not be her. Odds are-”

“How many Danneel’s have you ever met with their name on their bag,” you said, pointing at the purse.

“Oh my God. She was such a little preppy nerd,” he chuckled. “I bet she did that cause of her friends.”

“You can have that if you want.”

“I think we can share it,” he said. He turned through the pages and finished with the album, picking out another. You let him look and ask questions for a while before he’d gone through most of the box. He carried it downstairs with him and packed it away in the backseat before you brought him around to the back of the house.

“Come here,” you said. You dragged him over to the tree with the wide swing, space enough for the both of you to sit. “I used to stay out here all day sometimes. Day of the funeral I must have sat here for hours and hours.”

“Not a bad place to grieve. It’s pretty.”

“It was the last time I sat on this swing. I said I’d never feel at home here again,” you said. “Ray and I got an apartment closer to town, moved the next week.”

“How do you feel now?” You smiled and leaned back.

“Now...home is people, not a place. I want to share this with you, the kids. Our family. I was so unhappy as a child and this place changed that for me cause of my mom and even Ray. It’s a good place again for me. Home is somewhere else now but it feels warm here again, not sad and cold.”

“Thanks for taking me out here today,” he said.

“Maybe we can even do that camping trip in one of the fields. You gotta see the stars out here, way more than at the house.”

“Camping with indoor plumbing only steps away. Best of both worlds,” he said. “Do you own anything else big? We never really talked about that kind of stuff I suppose.”

“Actually I own the Dallas Cowboys. I didn’t want to intimidate you,” you said. He rolled his eyes while you bumped his arm and giggled.

“Okay wise guy.” He threw his arm over your shoulders and you expected a noogie but only got a kiss on the head. “You’re lucky I know how long you spent on your hair this morning or else you’d be so screwed right now.”

“Losing your edge, Ackles.” He didn’t hesitate that time to put you in a headlock and you managed to ruffle his some before he gave in with a laugh. You could feel a few strands out of place but he stood and undid your hair tie, moving behind you and scooping it all up. He hummed and put it back in a messy bun for you, smiling as you leaned back to catch him fixing his hair. “I don’t have much else besides this place, my car and a savings account.”

“You know, speaking of your car...I’m gonna have to be an asshole about something,” he said.

“Oh? What’s that?” you said as you stood. You walked in front of him and he rested his hands on your hips.

“I’m going to have to insist on a new one.”

“Ah, come on. It’s my first car. I got if for my sixteenth birthday,” you said.

“That car is almost as old as you are. I know you don’t have to drive it as much lately since we take mine but please can we get something from the current decade? Pretty please?” he asked, jutting out his lip.

“Are you worried?” you asked. He nodded and you smiled. “I will look at something newer, I promise.”

“Thank you,” he said, checking his watch. “Want to go get that meat, get started on it?”

“Oh I bet you want to handle that meat,” you said. He gave his bitch face and walked away as you laughed.

“Your crude humor is very immature,” he said as you caught up with him. “I don’t go for that kind of low brow thing.”

“I watched you make a dick out of a banana and two oranges at the grocery store yesterday.”

“Touche,” he said.

“You’re silly,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist. “But I like that.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your temple. “Anything besides the brisket you want to pick up? Chicken? Burgers?”

“Hm, I’ve never made my world famous chicken thighs for you yet. I gotta grill ‘em but the secret is you heat them up in the oven again with this marinade sauce. I got a raise out of it once actually.”

“First off, the face you can grill is extremely attractive. Second, how’d you manage a raise?” he asked, stopping by Baby.

“I made them for the couple I was working for at the time. She took credit of course but they had a fancy dinner party with her boss and she got named partner at her firm for it so she gave me a raise for helping out.”

“Well now that you’ve hyped these things up to here we gotta have some for sure,” he said. “Why don’t we head out to the store. We only got about an hour before we need to grab the twins from daycare.”

“After you babe.”

________

A/N: Read Part 14 here!

#supernatural #spn #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #jensen x reader #jensen series #rpf #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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reidyoulikeabook · 4 years ago

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A is for Ankle Socks

Summary: The first installment in my A-Z of Spencer Reid series. Spencer Reid is very particular about his socks.

Ship: fem ! BAU reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussions of case-typical violence, blood, brief description of a fight, minor injury to reader that requires some stitches.

A/N: hello! this is my first ever series and i’m very nervous about it! it’s going to be a chronological a-z series with Spencer, detailing the progression of your relationship!

Spencer Reid permanently wears odd socks. The only time you can recall him wearing matching ones, in the year you’ve known him, was on days he had to go to court. Then, it was required that he wear the technically mandated uniform of proper leather shoes, and monochrome socks. On those days, Hotch would turn up with a pair of black socks tucked into his briefcase, just in case. Spencer had needed them, twice.

However, today is not a court day. Today is day 8 of a case in back of beyond Oregon that, quite frustratingly, seems to be going absolutely nowhere.

It says quite a lot, really, that in a day spent combing over convicts with domestic violence charges, the sight you look up to see is more viscerally disturbing. Spencer’s perched on the end of a desk, as he so often seems to be, his ankles crossed over each other. Signature black converse on his feet. And he appears...not to be wearing socks?

He notices you looking at him, and flicks his eyes downward self-consciously, “Is something wrong?”

“Are you wearing socks?”

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Uh. No. I meant to go to the laundrette last night but then Hotch called us into that meeting. I wasn’t expecting to be out here this long.”

“Is it comfortable?” You ask, “Wearing those without socks?”

He kicks his feet around just slightly, “Not really. I guess I’d forgotten about it until you mentioned.”

“Sorry,” You say, with an apologetic smile.

“Not your fault,” He says, looking back at the paperwork in his lap, “Hey would you mind coming to take a look at this actually? I think I might have something.”

***

By day 2, you’d learnt that the only sandwich shop in town had a reputation for bad food hygiene that none of you felt like risking. Normally, everyone would roll their eyes at Spencer for his investigation into such things. However, in this case, everyone else seemed to be as thankful as you always were.

It’s your turn to do the lunch run today, so you head to the grocery store that isn’t too far out of town. Putting your car in park, you mentally run through the list that the team had given you: cheap pasta for everyone but Rossi, who was willing to risk running foul of their microwave meal selection, as many coffee supplies as you could manage, some sour gummy worms for Spencer, mineral water for Hotch, and tights for you. It was frankly quite impractical to wear the things. You ran through so many brambles, fell down so many times, that you almost felt you should get pantyhose hazard pay. In fall in Oregon though? You’d splash out the $6 for the sake of preventing frostbite. If only because Hotch would be furious.

You smile at the thought. Wandering through the aisles, you collect everything you need. Spencer only asked for a pack of sour gummy worms, but, with a smile on your face, you decide to get him the strawberry laces he likes too.

It’s only when you scan the cart, last minute, that you realise what you’ve forgotten.

Tights. Shit.

Wheeling the cart around, you weave through the aisles looking for them. The underwear aisle is aisle 20, and it looks like it’s been ransacked. Flicking through the disorganised display, you see them.

A five pack of socks, adorned with farm animals and backgrounds of a completely clashing colour. It’s almost too bright for you, but you know a certain sockless Spencer who will be sure to appreciate them. Out of curiousity, you navigate your way over to the men’s section and have a look through. Mostly, it’s all black and navy. Right at the back though, you spy a similarly garish looking pack, this time with vegetables on.

You put them in the basket, eyes flickering over a pair of matching aubergine patterned boxers, as you make your way over to the tights. You select your usual kind, turning your attention back to the boxers.

Is it weird to get him boxers?

He’d know it was a joke, right?

Is it weird to get him socks?

Well he didn’t have any

Yeah but you don’t need to get him two packs

Yes I do we might be here a while

10 more days?

He could fall. He could spill coffee on his shoes. He could get shot.

How would socks help with him getting shot?

Your internal monologue gives you a moments reprieve, and then.

Kinda weird you got him socks

Nobody else would have got him socks

Yeah well I’m just thoughtful.

The last thought crosses your mind without permission, and you almost bristle at the brazenness of your lie to yourself. However, you decide, examining the real reasons you’re so eager to provide comfort to your favourite co-worker would require mental stamina you didn’t have right now. Mental stamina that would be better put to use on the case at hand. Mental stamina that definitely wasn’t being used to employ the BAU’s favourite defense mechanism: denial.

***

“I got you a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Spencer spins around in his chair to face you.

“Yep,” You say, plopping the sweets down onto the desk in front of him and grinning.

“Strawberry laces!” He says, smile lighting up his face, “Thanks ____!”

“That’s not the surprise.”

He quirks his brow, confusion tugging at his features, “Then what’s the surprise?”

You untuck your arms from behind your back, handing him the pairs of socks.

He looks down at them. He’s silent for a moment, and your heart thuds.

Fuck.

Told you it was weird.

It’s definitely weird.

He definitely thinks you’re-

You don’t have time to finish that thought, however, because Spencer scoots his chair back. Standing up, he pulls you into a hug. He gently squeezes you, and when he speaks his voice is low, cracking a little.

“Thank you,” He says quietly, “That was really thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

You lean into him, allowing yourself to be enveloped, “No problem. I know you have some issues with sensory things sometimes and I just thought, you know,” you trail off, “Anyway, I didn’t know which ones you’d prefer and I know you like to mix and match anyway so I just got both.”

He doesn’t say anything. But he squeezes you again, tighter this time, before releasing you. Strangely, he won’t meet your eye as he does.

“I’m gonna go put them on, okay?”

“Okay,” You say, watching a little quizically as he hurriedly heads out of the room.

Derek happens to be heading back to the room, bumping into Spencer on his way out.

“You alright kid?” He asks.

“I'm fine," Spencer says, waving him off. He tries to avoid meeting Derek’s eyes, knowing as well as he does that if the profiler catches the look on his face he’ll be found out.

Derek allows him to shrug past him with a confused glance over his shoulder. He walks into the room, scooping the nearest file off the desk and asking in your general direction, “You know what’s up with him?”

“Nope,” You say, popping the p.

You don’t. And it’d bother you, except you genuinely don’t have time right now to dwell on it. Although, try as you might to focus on narrowing down this list of factories in the area, it niggles at you.

***

You don’t see Spencer again until you’re heading out to the unsubs location. You get called out by Hotch in the minute before he returns, and then it’s all guns blaring. Emily and Dave managed to work some magic with Penelope, and the place he’s holding the hostage has been narrowed down to a factory quite far out of town.

You’re perched in the back, discussing entry tactics with Hotch when your eyes travel down to Spencer’s shoes.

One chicken, and one broccoli sock sit on his left and right feet respectively. It’s hard to see them though, with how far they are down his feet.

Hotch answers his phone then, immediately barking down commands at the local PD who are apparently failing to summon adequate manpower, in Hotch’s opinion at least.

You take the moment to cautiously lean over to Spencer, whispering, “Were they not the right size?”

He smiles at you, “They fit just fine as ankle socks.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to check the sizes, womens ones are pretty much all one size. I completely forget that men have massively different sized feet.”

He laughs, “Are you suggesting I have huge feet?”

You feel yourself flush a little, “I don’t think that’d necessarily be an inaccurate suggestion.”

Amused, he smiles. Hotch turns around to you both, momentarily taking his eyes off the road, “I need you to call Penelope, and tell her to get us all the CCTV she can get in the area. If we’re going to have to go in without enough men to cover the perimeter we’ll need all the tactical advantages we can get.”

“Of course, sir.”

***

Lunging forward, you tackle the unsub to the ground, effectively freeing Spencer from the grasp he’d previously been held in.

“It’s over Peter,” Hotch’s voice comes, even and steady.

“No it’s not.”

Before you can even register what’s happening, you’re being tossed backwards, landing against some barbed wire. Immediately, you’re on your feet again, running after him. Not noticing how the wire has ripped a hole in your tights, and cut into your leg a little.

Grabbing his arms behind him, you use all your strength to subdue him to the floor, handcuffing him. Wiping the sweat off your brow, you breathe out a deep sigh of relief.

Derek has it from there, patting you on the shoulder and giving you a “Good job kiddo.” He leads Peter out.

You rub your chest, feeling the adrenaline start to flood out of your body with all the excitement now over. A stinging senstation in your calf gets your attention, and looking down you see the nasty wound oozing blood. It isn’t much, nothing that two stitches won’t fix.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asks, having gotten up from his position on the floor, “You didn’t have to...Derek would have gotten him.”

“Why should he be the only one that gets to tackle people?” You ask, letting out a breathless tinkle of a laugh.

“Statistically, he is the one who does the most tackling out of all of us. Then Hotch, then Emily, then Rossi, then me, then you.”

“I am not the one that tackles the least,” You say indignantly.

He tips his head to the side, “Are you gonna argue with the guy who has an eidetic memory or are we going to get you stitched up?”

“Both, please.”

He laughs at that, linking his arm around your waist. You limp against him a little, out to the paramedics. Mostly it’s for Spencer’s benefit. That’s what you tell yourself, you’re letting him help you so he doesn’t feel emasculated.

When has Spencer Reid ever fallen pray to toxic masculinity?

He might have

When?

Well he could

You just like how he smells

It’s true. The faint waft of his cologne is incredibly comforting. He doesn’t loosen his grip on you for even a second, helping to hoist you so you can sit on the ambulance bed while the medics attend to your leg. You’re feeling a little woozy, so Spencer sits next to you, allowing you to lean on him for support.

“Can you tell me something?” You ask, gritting your teeth, “Distract me?”

It doesn’t really hurt, getting stitched up, you’ve just never found it the most comfortable of processes. All your favourite cases have ended with you not having to get sewn up. You know that much.

“I’ve actually only tackled one more person than you in my entire BAU career,” He says, deciding to return to your former discussion, “I didn’t really go out in the field all that much until a couple years in, it was only because of Hotch that I really went out in the field to take down an unsub for the first time. That was March 12th, 2005. You’ve only been here 9 months and have done almost as much physical stuff as me. One more and we’re even.”

“Well, if you could try not to be the person getting tackled by the unsub next time. Then I might not have to make a tackle.”

His mouth turns up at the corner, “You tackled him for me?”

You feel yourself growing embarassed, “Not for you. For the socks.”

“Oh the socks?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s a little unfair to go putting yourself in harms way while wearing a gift someone got for you. 5 dollar socks Spencer, practically designer at that price, I’d hate to see them ruined day one.”

He laughs, his tone playful, “Well you’ll need to bare that in mind.”

“Huh?”

He tilts his head towards Emily, strutting her way across to the ambulance with Spencer’s go-bag in her arms. She hands it to him, smiling at you.

“Should I let Morgan know the team will no longer be in need of his services?”

You snort, “I’d hate to steal his brand.”

She shakes her head, “Drinks when we get back? Hotch said the jet’s ready for whenever you’re done, and Rossi says he’s buying.”

“You got it,” You nod.

She pats you on the shoulder, exaggeratedly eyeing your leg again and rolling her eyes as she walks away, “Idiot.”

You smile, turning back towards Spencer, “Are you coming for drinks? I can drive you home.”

He visibly considers it for a moment, “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

“You’re all done here,” The paramedic interrupts, wiping down your leg with an anti-bacterial wipe, “Was a really smooth tear for barbed wire, shouldn’t leave that much of a scar.”

They press a bandage over it and you thank them, getting to your feet with the help of Spencer.

“Wait, why’d you get Emily to bring your go-bag if we’re going home?”

He looks almost bashful. Out of his bag, he pulls a three pack of tights. Just the kind you always wear. Down to your preferred brand, and everything.

“When did you-?”

“I noticed you rip them a lot while we’re on cases. I didn’t know if it was weird but then...the socks?” He gestures at his feet, floundering, “I’m sorry if that’s...I just didn’t-”

“No,” You cut off his ramble, “No, Spencer, that’s really sweet. Thank you, thank you so much. Can I hug you?”

He nods, happily. You wrap him into your arms, pressing your face against his chest. Inhaling the scent of him. Reveling in how safe you feel, how protected, thinking how you’d take three hundred stitches if it meant you got Spencer out of harms way. He was so thoughtful, so kind, so attentive to detail.

Oh fuck.

You can barely look at him. It hits you like a train, the realisation. Co-workers save each other from unsubs. Friends buy each other gifts that have meaning and value. But only somebody who is in love feels like this when they get handed tights. Oh.

It’s a warm feeling. Overwhelming. So much so that you miss Spencer saying he’ll be right back, scooting off to Rossi who’s shouting him over with a question the local PD need answering for their report.

You stumble a little, thankful that you have the blood loss and adrenaline rush to blame if anybody were to notice.

You wait for the wave of denial to hit, to come and lock your feelings back in the treasure chest you’ve managed to shove them down into now. It doesn’t come. Instead, you look at Spencer with a sense of awe that feels newfound, but has actually been here all along. Watching him speak to Rossi, you really notice him: just how much he gestures with his hands, how quickly he relays information, how the huge smile on his face, when he turns around to notice you staring, truly meets his eyes.

***

You can’t tell if it makes you a good profiler, or somewhat of a stalker, that you notice Spencer wears the ankle socks you got him to work everyday for the next 9 days.

Spencer worries he’s being a little too obvious, but he can’t help that whenever he sees the socks he beams at them. They remind him of you. Unbeknownst to everybody but Dave (who somehow notices everything), he spends a good minute or so a day sneaking a peek at the novelty socks under his converse. And then trailing his eyes over to you. Thinking how much he loves the person who got them for him.

----

B is for Blindfolds

Tagslist (this is just people who replied to the post about this series and said they’d like to be tagged! let me know if you’d like to be added/removed to this series masterlist): @reidingmelodies @rem-ariiana

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years ago

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Heartbreak For A Gift (Part 1/?)

Synopsis: Sometimes relationships start off like love stories in books. And sometimes they fall apart in a minute.

(Kind of an AU! I guess??)

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst bruh

Warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, but nothing else that I can remember. Minimal editing

Word count: 2547

A/N: Please note I don’t know what the situation is between Harry and Olivia, if it’s a stunt or they’re actually dating. Whatever the case do not harass them. This is fiction and only for the purposes of the story. If they’re actually together - GOOD FOR THEM!!! No one is entitled to other people’s private lives!

Can be read as a one-shot if ya want, but I might turn this into a very small series cause I already have ideas as to where to go further with this, so hit me up if that’s what you’d like :)

If you know you’re a part of my tag list and see you’ve been crossed out, it means I can’t tag you for whatever reason. If you still would like to be a part of my tags please message me with your previous username and updated so I can update my lists :)

When she’d first said yes to going out with Harry, she’d had zero ideas as to who he really was. Well, that was a lie, she obviously knew of him, it’s not like she completely lived under a rock, and she’d seen a couple of his interviews, but 'One Direction' or Harry Styles as a solo artist hadn’t been that big of parts of her life, so she didn’t really care much for it. They’d met at a bookstore on a sunny day in London. That’d been a good day. Her boss had let her go home a bit earlier than usual, the weather was warm, but not it’s-so-warm-I’m-sweating-my-ass-off kind of warm, sunglasses covering her eyes and hair free as the warm summer winds blew through her locks she was walking beside the Thames on her way inside the heart of the city. Because she had a little bit more free time, she decided to pop into Waterstones, which was generally not a good idea for Y/N to do if she had things in store for the day; this time she could spend the rest of the evening if she wanted to, browsing books and living her best life. Surprisingly for London, that particular Waterstones, even though it was in a densely populated area, was pretty empty, so Y/N felt free to skim through the options without having to press through a crowd of people to find the next section. As she scanned what the shelves of New-Adult fiction offered, a man also came to look at the books. He stayed a bit further away, but he was certainly someone who caught people’s attention with the bright green daisy-print covered T-shirt, chequered shorts and the three scrunchies on his wrist. The thing was as much as he’d grabbed Y/N's attention, she was more interested in the Waterstones exclusive edition of a book she’d been dying to buy, so when she saw it just sitting on the shelf, a small gasp escaped her lips. Two eyes were immediately on her, and Y/N could feel them slip back onto her form from time to time as she greedily paged through the book, but she couldn’t say her own Y/E/C eyes didn’t flit over to the man as well. He had a small bun on the top of his head, curly hair pushed away from the face, cheekbones for days, which were shaved and smooth and perfectly groomed brows arching over what seemed to be green orbs which were looking at the spine of a crime book way too intensely for it to be genuine interest. All in all, his side profile would be that of one of the characters Y/N’d simp over in a book, let alone the nails painted all colours of the rainbow which made her happy because nothing was better to see someone sticking it to the patriarchy. But their little meet-cute was interrupted as an employee apologised while he tried to squeeze past them with a giant cart filled with new release books, and almost like a lost puppy, she started to follow the stacks of books when a hand on her shoulder made her spin around only to be faced with the man. She instantly recognised his face, but, at the same time, couldn’t really pinpoint what it was about him that was so familiar.

“Sorry,” he said in a rough voice. “But you left this behind.” And in his hands was the Waterstones exclusive. Y/N’s eyes widened as she gingerly took it from him. “Oh my god, thank you! I’ve got no idea how I let it out of my fingers.” He chuckled, motioning with his chin to the employee disappearing by the corner. “I’d say you got distracted.” “Yeah, a little.” She bit her lip and drummed her nails against the cover of the book. “Well, uh… thank you. For not grabbing it for yourself.” But he just lifted his hand. “More of a Murakami kind of a man.” “Yes, well, I,” she nodded towards the book in her own hand, “like to read about people living out my dreams.” He raised his eyebrow. “It’s a murder mystery.” “Your point?” “Would you say I have issues then if I wanted to ask you out on a date?” Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest, but he looked so nervous, so genuinely open and almost scared, she couldn’t feel any ill intentions from him, so she tapped her chin a bit as if contemplating before saying, “No. I’d say you have good taste actually.’ The relieved laugh he let out made him seem even prettier than Y/N already thought he was. He extended his palm towards her, swaying on the balls of his feet a bit. “ ‘M Harry. Would probably be proper to know my name before we go anywhere further.” “Y/N.” She smiled and clasped his hand in hers. “And it would probably be proper to know I was kidding about the whole ‘watching others live out my dreams’. People living out my dreams are actually in the books having hot sex with Fae.” His laughter was loud and sudden, making Y/N duck down like she was in her Uni library and the librarians would come and shush them. But now, almost two years later since they’d first met, there was no sign of those butterflies she’d felt in the middle of the thriller section of Waterstones. Now Y/N was sitting by a large table, body slowly numbing as was her mind to keep the pain from her heart spreading. Whatever Jeff was talking about now, she didn’t hear. There were eyes on her, had to be to gauge her reaction, but they wouldn’t get anything more than slightly parted lips and a blank stare turned towards the marbled top. She knew Harry was nervous; from her peripheral vision, she saw his thumb scraping at the rest of his nail lacquer, chips of pastel yellow and green polish flaking off and floating to the carpeted floor. Y/N didn’t like LA. She’d never wanted to go there. Maybe as a tourist for a couple of weeks sometime down the line, but because of Harry and his commitment to ‘Don’t Worry, Darling’ and because he’d basically pleaded with her for days on end, she’d agreed to move there with him for the time he was shooting the movie. It’s not that the city wasn’t beautiful. The sun, the sea, the greenery surrounding her was absolutely breath-taking, but it was the people that she didn’t really mesh with. Sure, she knew dating Harry came with a lot of what LA’s society was like. The need to look absolutely physically perfect to match the unachievable barbie standard, the fake niceness people usually exhibited just to get something for themselves or possibly raise them higher on the popularity scale, but Harry had always wiped away those doubts. But now all of that seemed like one big lie. He’d told her he didn’t care for any of it, not when it concerned Y/N nor when it concerned himself. But the contract in front of them said something different. A hand touched her back. “Y/N?” Harry’s voice was tentative, wavering at the end of her name. For the first time since the proposal had been thrown out, she lifted her eyes to look around at the people in the room. Harry, Jeff, both their attorneys and Olivia Wilde and her attorney. The other woman, once their gazes met, immediately looked away. Y/N wanted to scoff at that. “What…” Harry gulped, brushing a hand across her back. She’d never flinched away from him, but this time she did. Harry visibly shrunk in his seat and pulled back. “What do you think?” What did she think? Well, she was thinking a lot of things, and the urge to say all of them was immense, but instead Y/N bit down on her tongue, reaching for the legal papers in front of her and skimmed through them. She’d read each and every word as they’d been read out loud by the attorney, and every letter had been burned into her brain now. There was no way to get them out from her mind, and they’d haunt her forever. “The fact that you’re asking me what I think of it already means you’re considering this.” Surprisingly enough, her voice was steady even though she was on the verge of collapsing after everything. “So, I’ll make this really easy for you – do it. Because, from now on, you’re a single man and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” Harry’s face paled immediately at her words, hand moving to grasp Y/N’s, but they were in a tight ball in her lap, not moving an inch at his touch. “Y/N, please.” Olivia was the one reaching out now, a pained and terrified look on her face, but the girl just stood up from her chair and went to the coat rack taking her coat and the bag that was discarded by it. “No, you asked what I thought.” Tears had started to form in her eyes while she shrugged on her jacket. “This is what I think. If you even for a second assumed I’d be alright with this shitty stunt, Harry, then through the last two years we've spent together, you’ve learned nothing about me, and to me, it means it’s not worth it.” Harry was now standing, desperate to touch her face, but Y/N once again pulled away. “You two,” Y/N said pointing between Olivia and Harry, their faces twins of fear and regret. “Have never needed publicity. Not like this, so don’t try and bullshit me that this will make great promo for the movie. There are so many other ways you could drum up interest, but this…” She let out an unamused chuckle. “How could you think I’d be okay with you pretending to be in a relationship with someone else?” “No, please… just hear us out. You don’t know what it’s like.” Harry tried to plead, hands in his hair, but it was the wrong thing to say, as she took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief. But Y/N was calm, and with how rigid Harry became he knew he’d fucked up more than before. “I don’t understand?" she breathed. “The number of things and events I’ve said ‘no’ to… the…” Her voice was as still as the sea before a storm as she took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Harry wants Y/N there for the opening of his tour, so Y/N drops everything and flies out even though she misses a presentation that could have her up for a promotion. Harry doesn’t want to be seen walking inside a club with someone, so Y/N goes to the back entrance to save his face. Harry is tired and just wants to sleep, so Y/N passes on her friends’ birthdays because he wants cuddles. What Harry wants, Y/N does. And I did. I did all that happily while keeping our relationship private while snaking in and out through back doors like I was some dirty secret of yours just so you could keep the illusion you’re single…” Y/N shook her head. “I think I understand very well… But now… it’s my turn, my time to ask of you something.” “Anything,” he pleaded, probably thinking that Y/N was going to ask him not to go with Jeff’s stunt, and he’d gladly tell them all to fuck off if it meant her staying. “I’ll do anything.” “Let me go.” If Harry’s heart hadn’t been in his chest you would’ve been able to hear it break as it smashed against the floor. “Let me go,” she repeated. “And don’t come after me. Because I won’t take any part in this.” “But –,” he was choking on his words. “But I don’t want to. I love you; I can’t just let you walk away like that. I won’t do it, none of this is worth it.” “And I didn’t want to do a lot of things, especially sit in a meeting on Valentine’s day where my boyfriend was talking about faking a relationship to promote a fucking movie, but here we are.” This time when he reached out to cup her cheek, Y/N let him. “Please. I swear I won’t do it, just please let’s talk about this. Don’t give up on me.” But she was unwavering. “For the rest of our relationship, however long that might’ve been, I would’ve wondered if you hated me if you despised me for not agreeing to go with it if the movie didn’t do as well as your management predicts it will with this. And I won’t have that. I won’t be in a relationship where every second will be spent in doubt that I’m stifling your career and you could potentially resent me.” “I could never hate you.” “Yeah.” She let out a sob. “You actually claim to love me but would be willing to put me through that kind of fuckery, so something has to be a lie.” Without looking at anyone else in the office, Y/N stepped away from the man who once made her feel like she could conquer the top of the world and opened the door, but didn’t even manage to take a step outside when the voice of the person she never wanted to hear from called after her, and although Y/N had been calm and collected, she snapped at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Jeff,” she snarled. “It’s not like I can talk about anything that happened here. You made sure of it. Smart move, by the way, I’d say you should continue it. NDAs right before any meeting… I guess that’s how you keep your clients' careers spotless, so your stunt won’t be exposed.” The way she whipped around to move towards the door would’ve given her whiplash, if not for Harry standing in front of her, arms weaving around to keep her in place. “I’m sorry." He was verging on hysterics. "Please just… please Y/N don’t…” It seemed like he no longer even understood what he was pleading for. For Y/N to not break up? To not leave the room? LA? All he knew was that if he let her walk out of the door, he’d never see her again, and she’d make sure of it. “No, Harry, I think I actually will, because the thought of being in the same city as you, is going to make me throw up right now,” Y/N said eyes not daring to meet his, because if she did, she'd break and her resolve would dissipate. “Besides, you have loads of things to talk about. By the time you get back, I’ll have my stuff out of the hotel. And Jeff?” His manager looked sheepish as she glanced at Y/N. “The least you owe me is a ticket back home. The first flight you can find.” He didn’t answer, just nodded. She didn't deign to thank him. “Happy fucking Valentines to you two.” She looked at Olivia and Harry, who was breaking apart at the seams, but no longer could she find it in herself to care. He didn’t care enough about her anyway. “Hope you have a very happy relationship.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland @raylovessarcasm

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

A/N: I’m (kinda?) back? I guess. I dunno. I’m in this weird place where I’m writing my books and then I get inspo for fics and I start writing them, but can’t seem to finish them so I dunno :D

P.S. what did ya think?

P.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms (Wattpad Ao3 etc without specific written permission)

P.S.S.S. my tags are always open :)

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles and you #harry styles and y/n #harry styles and reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader smut #don't worry darling #olivia wilde #one direction #one direction imagine #harry styles fandom

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woodsteingirl · 3 years ago

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A case in suburbia, domestic dynamics, and a forever home. What could go wrong?

the moment i’ve been waiting for! chapter one is up now! read here or under the cut.

Cas and Dean were searching for a forever house. They had been pretty much since Cas got back from the empty. They were ready to distance themselves from hunting. Dean had always wanted a sort of suburban, white picket fence life, even if he didn’t admit it to anyone. And since he already admitted how he truly felt to Cas, why not throw his need for a domestic lifestyle into the mix. Cas was all for it. Ever since Jack had given up most of his powers to Amara, thus causing her to take his place as God and him almost human, Cas had been hoping for a place to raise him like a normal child. The bunker was great for hunting and a place for Cas, Dean, and Sam, but not so much for raising a 5-year-old kid.

House hunting had been a burden to bear, but they were making out alright. Up till this, they’d looked at about 3 other houses. They were all a no for different reasons. The first one Cas decided was in a school district that wouldn’t be good for Jack, the second didn’t have a big enough garage or backyard, and the third didn’t have enough bedrooms for all of their family to stay. With the whole credit card scam they’d been running for as long as they remember, budget wasn’t really a problem, but they didn’t want something extravagant.

There it was, 538 Chapel Street in Pine River Crossings. It wasn’t too far out of Lawrence, only a few hours' drive, and all the houses looked nice. Very cookie cutter, but that was sort of the appeal. They couldn’t guarantee that they would fit in with the traditional, upper middle-class people, but what the hell, if they could kill god they could take suburbia.

A few days passed, and they were set up to look at the home. They drove the hour and a half to the next medium-sized town with the belief in their minds that this was the one. It had all they needed, a two-car garage, a respectable school district, and two guest bedrooms. They were so caught up in this concept they made the mistake of not checking the news for the nearby areas. Once they arrived, a realtor who showed them around the dwelling greeted them. It was all they could ask for and more practically too good to be true, especially for people like them. The actual presentation of the house went over without too many problems. The person exhibiting the residence commented on how it had been on display for almost a month now, which was the first red flag. A house as nice as this, in a densely populated area, would usually not be on the market for that long in weeks unless there was some hidden con.

They signed on it not a day after seeing the house in person. It was all set up and they could officially start moving stuff in the next week. They officially shared the good news with everyone the day after they signed. Sam was beyond happy for them. Not only would he finally have a space to himself, he was proud of his brother for living the life he’d always wanted. Jack was thrilled that he would get to go to actual school and have friends that were his age and not cosmic entities. In the meantime, Cas did more research into the neighborhood. There was their hidden con. The newspaper Cas had pulled up on his phone said, “Local Couple Murdered in Own Home.”

“Dean, look at this.”

Okay, that was a setback. A murderer on the loose in the neighborhood they were moving into was not exactly what he had planned, but he had delt with worse. “Alright, that could be a problem.”

“I think it’s a little bigger than a problem,” Cas retorted.

“Is it our type of thing or just something local law enforcement could deal with?”

Cas read on in the article, “the couple was stabbed, there was no sign of forced entry, neighbors reported nothing amiss besides lights flickering before the murder. The weapon, as well as the perpetrator, was never found. No official suspects have been labeled, everyone has seemed to have an alibi.”

“It definitely sounds like our thing. Lights flickering, no breaking and entering, and all.”

They decided they could pose as residents, as it seemed perfectly normal for the newcomers to be concerned about the literal murderer on the loose. Since Cas was newly human, and Jack was, well, 5, Dean thought they might need outside help. Being out of practice to spend more time with your husband and child really had its fallbacks. Sam was off the table as backup. He was out of town and Dean didn't want to interrupt his first weekend without him in god knows how long. Plus, they needed someone who wouldn't draw too much attention to their family dynamic.

“Hey, Cas, what do you think about calling in Claire to help us with this one? You think she’d do it?”

“Calling her in for help is a good idea, whether or not shed actually do it is another question.”

“I’ll call and ask, and if she wants to help, and if not then I can think of something else.”

He kept his promise and called Claire not an hour later. He decided it might be best not to tell her it was undercover work, or that it was taking place in a white picket fence neighborhood, as that might turn her off from it almost immediately.

“Hey Claire, its been too long since we’ve talked,” he started.

“Hi Dean. what do you want, there’s no way you’re just calling to catch up if you’re starting with ‘its been too long.’”

“You got me there. I was just wondering if you wanted to come with me and Cas on a hunt. Its not too far from the bunker and we’d have you back home in a week.”

“Sure, that works. When do we start?” She hadnt seen Dean and Cas since they rescued Cas. That was over a month ago, she’d been meaning to visit, but she’d been so busy with hunting, and getting to know Kaia again now that she was finally back. This seemed like a perfect opportunity to reconnect and not miss out on anything too big back at home.

“If you could come down here by Wednesday, that’d be great.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” She was tempted to sign off with an ‘I love you’ but she was never a lovey-dovey person in that way.

On tuesday she promised Jody she’d be extra careful and would be back in under a week. Kaia told her to make sure to call every day and update her on what was happening. Claire agreed, promising to keep in touch. She spent the rest of the day driving down to Kansas.

Back on Dean and Cas’s end, they were trying to get the house set up for 4 people when they had no furniture prior to this. Cas had always loved furniture shopping even before he had a use for it. When he worked at the Gas-and-Sip, he would browse the home improvement magazines in his spare time. Dean was pretty much the opposite. He had never had reason to care for it, so he didn't. Maybe his hatred for Swedish furniture was rooted in his deep-seated commitment issues. It didn't matter much why he hated it, he just left most of the choices up to Cas. there was then the issue of appliances and such you couldn't find in a furniture store. That was left up to him. Cas sent him out to Walmart to get things for the kitchen. That was something he could do. He picked out a mixer, some silverware, and a pioneer woman kitchenware set. It came with pots and pans, mixing bowls, and a few normal sized plates. That was enough for him to consider it an absolute steal. He brought his finds home to the bunker, setting them on the table designated for things that were to go in the new house. Jack was sitting on Cas’s lap, pointing at things on the computer.

“What’re you guys finding?” Dean asked, hovering behind Cas’s shoulder.

“Djungelskog!” Jack exclaimed, showing Dean a photo of a large stuffed brown bear.

“I thought you were looking for furniture?” Dean directed the question more at Cas, but he was still looking at Jack.

“We are. Jack just got us a bit sidetracked. We found the majority of what we need. Among other things not of as grave importance.”

Dean looked over the shopping cart and then gave the go ahead. Not before adding the stuffed bear to the cart, though.

The next day Claire arrived. Everyone was thrilled to see her. Jack ran up and threw himself around one of her legs and Cas gave her an awkward dad side hug. Dean wondered when he would tell her what the hunt would actually consist of, but he didn't want to interrupt the moment.

A few hours later, Dean fixed everyone a real dinner and had them sit down at the kitchen table. The realization dawned on him that this was going to be his last sit down meal officially living in the bunker. Everyone sort of just sat in silence for a beat. Perhaps reflecting on their own lasts of officially living there. “Claire, I sorta forgot to add this when I called you, but the case is a lot of undercover work. Also its in a suburban area.”

“And why didn't you tell me this sooner?”

“Well to speak freely, I wanted you on this case and I was worried it would make you not want to come.”

“It almost does, but i'm already here now, and i wouldn't want to waste a days driving on something i'm not actually going to do.” She guessed this would probably take longer than a week. “And i'm guessing this isn't just something you decided to do out of the goodness of your hearts?”

“We bought a house in the area, and we just wanted to make sure it was safe,” Cas explained.

“Hang on, you bought a house for real and you didnt even think to tell me? You didn't think that that was valuable information?”

“It didn't come up in our phone call,” Dean said.

“And? That’s no excuse to leave your daughter out of major life events!” The ‘daughter’ part just sort of came out without her noticing, but seconds after she said it she regretted it. God, how embarrassing.

“You’re right. We should’ve told you sooner. It was kind of a recent decision, though, so you haven’t been out of the loop for too long,” Cas said.

The next day was moving day. Dean loaded the appliances into the back of Claire’s car, since the back of the Impala was already full. Claire took her own car, while Dean, Cas, and Jack rode in Baby. Their real furniture was being delivered as they spoke. Cas offered to ride with Claire, but she assured him she’d be fine by herself. The drive wasn’t even that long, especially compared to the distance she drove yesterday.

Dean was silently nervous. He wouldn’t admit it out loud but it was written all over his face. His first real stable house, with the man he loved, and his two kids, he could only hope that he didn’t mess it up. Cas put a hand on his shoulder showing he saw how Dean was feeling.

They turned onto Chapel Street and pulled up into the driveway of the house. It somehow looked bigger and more daunting than it had during the walkthrough. Claire arrived almost ten minutes later. Everyone just sort of paused in front of the house for a minute, reveling in the stability most of them had never had.

#pspspsps you want to reblog my hard work sooo bad #supernatural #spn #castiel #dean winchester #supernatural fic #samael speaks #sammy sires

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peralta-guaranteed · 3 years ago

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When they met Jake had a mop of hair (still looked cute) but then he got it cut and went from cute to HOT AF wonder what Amy’s reaction to that was 🤔🤔 or what her reaction to first time seeing him in a suit (suit Jake can step on me)

(gonna smush those together and add the awesome triple Ask part 2, "Amy realizing how hot Jake is early in their friendship like a moment of realization and then it won’t get out of her head)

also, Jake’s suit: like this

and Amy’s dress: like this but in blue

for your imagination pleasures :D

He was cute in a dorky kind of way, she had to admit even before she ever dared to think she might like him.

Well, she didn't exactly have to admit that to anyone, because no one really asked (except for Kylie, who only got a shrug and an eye roll when she inquired about her new co-workers). But she kind of admitted it to herself, whenever she caught a glimpse of his mop of hair bobbing past her desk with a new file, or leaning over her when they were discussing a new case. He was kinda cute.

Annoying and childish and boisterous and a pain to work with, but... in a cute way.

It made no difference to admit that, anyway. It didn't matter. They were co-workers, and that's it. She wasn't here to make friends - especially not with someone as wild and career-hobbling as him. She’d made that decision before she even came to the 99, and it wasn’t going to change.

-*-

He came in with no curls left at all six months into their working relationship, about a month after she’d also admitted to herself that maybe she wasn’t intentionally here to make friends, but had accidentally ended up with a strangely loyal one.

“Good, right?” He grinned at her with a proud double-pointer to his head, sitting or rather plonking down into his chair across from her while she tried to pry her eyes from him. She had been staring the whole way from the elevator to their desks, but maybe it wasn’t too late to hide that.

It was a bit harder to hide the blush that started at the top of her ears, but she cleared her throat quickly to pull his eyes away from that.

“That’s quite a change.”

��Yeah, Gina set me up with one of her stylist friends. Didn’t work out, but, uh, guess I got something out of it. Which is probably what she was planning for anyway.” He shrugged, answered with a resounding “Uh, duh!” from behind Amy before he stuck his tongue out at the childhood friend she was separating him from.

Something in her face twitched at the mention of another one of his dates - he seemed to be going on a lot of those, and he had no qualms telling everyone so, even though he never elaborated. Why it made her stomach drop a bit every time, she wasn’t quite so sure. Probably because it was so unprofessional to discuss at work, and she was already toeing the line too much joining in with some of his jokes and pranks. He swore McGinley didn’t give a damn, but she was sure she’d seen their captain’s disapproving stare through the half open blinds the last two times Jake had pulled her up from her desk for something definitely not police-related.

Jake was still low-key squabbling with Gina over her head, so she could slip out of that conversation easily, focus on the files she was working on before he came in looking like that, disrupting her… everything.

“It looks good.” She said instead, cursing herself for opening her mouth the second it closed again, but continuing. “Frames your face much better.”

The infighting stopped, and she could feel Gina’s stare burn into the back of her head. But far more pressing was the look Jake was giving her now, a short blink of… surprise, maybe, before his face broke out into a grin that wasn’t half as goading or over-the-top as usual.

“Uh, I, mh, thanks.” He mumbled, quickly staring down at the files he’d left open yesterday before he left, and she almost thought she could see a blush on the tip of his ears now, finally visible without being hidden underneath all that hair.

But that was surely just her imagination.

-*-

A very overactive imagination, she sighs as she stands in the copier room. An imagination that couldn’t stop staring at him throughout the day, at the way his profile had changed so much now without those curls always in the way, at the short hairs on the back of his neck, her fingers itching to run through them to find out if they’d feel soft or bristly. An imagination that refused to go back to the simple description of ‘cute’.

“I see you, Santiago.” A terrifying voice behind her interrupts her, and she’s glad her files are already in the copier so she can’t throw them at Gina in shock as she turns around to face her.

“What?”

“I see you, staring at my boy.” Gina points two fingers from her eyes into Amy’s direction, a grin breaking out on her face that almost rivals the ‘boy’ she’s talking about. “Getting the hots for the class clown? Gonna go smoochtown on my little bro?”

“As if.” Amy scoffs, maybe a bit too loudly, shaking her head a bit too much. “We’re talking about the same guy here? The one who claims that jelly beans have 4 calories each, so eating 500 a day should fulfil his caloric needs?”

“Uhu.” Gina seems bored now, which is not unusual for her whenever she’s talking to Amy, staring at her fingernails instead. “Keep trying to delude yourself with those negatives, poor girl. Just channel all that unfulfilled desire into some boring paperwork. I’ll be waiting for the day you snap and tear his clothes off right at his desk, so I can be out sick that day and not have to witness it.”

“I’m not going to-” Amy tries to protest, but Gina has already hopped out of the room, her hair bouncing behind her as she gives a wave and leaves her behind with a growl.

She’s not. She’s not going to do anything. There’s nothing to do something about. There- it’s- he’s-

She’s allowed to think someone looks attractive without immediately devolving into sexual thoughts or interest. She can think one of her friends is good-looking without making that weird. She can… she can admit that Jake is her friend and that Jake is attractive and it doesn’t change anything.

It doesn’t.

-*-

They’re all standing in front of the precinct, half shivering because of the wind swiping through their legs, and Amy curses whoever’s idea it was to meet up there instead of straight at the NYPD party two blocks down. We’re supposed to show a unified front as a squad, she remembers Terry saying, arriving together will help with that.

Well, they apparently won’t even start off together, because they’ve been waiting for Jake - of course, who else? - for close to 15 minutes now, and none of their messages were even answered. (Amy duly noted that hers were actually the only ones signed off with a ‘read’ notification, but she couldn’t think too much about that now, not while she was freezing in a dress she was still worried might be too low cut for a work event, even while Rosa next to her was sporting the most amazing little black dress she’d ever seen.)

“I swear to god, if Peralta isn’t here in 5 minutes, I’ll-” Terry is interrupted in his rant by a far too familiar voice sprinting at them.

“I’m here! I’m here.” Jake coughs a little as he comes to a stop and leans forward, hands on his knees, before standing up with a wide grin as if nothing happened. “I’m here! Let’s go! What are we waiting for?!”

Terry gives him the most dead-set stare he can muster before the group starts moving, all eager to finally get to a place that not only offers free drinks and food, but also heating.

Amy falls back a few steps, fighting with some uncomfortable heels she also should’ve rethought as much as her dress, and finds herself next to Jake, who’s apparently still trying to catch his breath from his run to the precinct. At least that’d explain the little gasp and baited breath as she bonks against him in her next stumble, and finds she’d rather like to stay there - on account of him being warm, of course.

“Geez, Santiago.” His arm wraps around her, suddenly, an even warmer hand rubbing up and down the thin sleeves of the stylish yet impractical soft coat she’d picked. “If you know you run cold all the time, why don’t you bundle up for the weather?”

Because bundling up doesn’t look good, she thinks with a sigh. Bundling up doesn’t leave an impression with the captains at that party. And because, maybe, Kylie had been a little too convincing about her online shopping cart after two glasses of wine each and clicked Buy before Amy could stop her.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting to spend more than 5 minutes out in the cold today, but we had to wait twice that for you.” She bites back instead, and hates herself for it, because it makes his wonderfully warm arm drop from her side almost immediately.

“Sorry.” He mumbles while staring at the ground. “Hey, you want my coat? It’s fresh dry-cleaned, I promise.”

“I didn’t know you even owned anything but that leatherjacket and at least twenty similar hoodies.”

“Yeah, it’s my grown-up nice jacket I only wear for special events.” He decides to ignore her dig, stroking down the soft grey wool with a strangely proud grin before unbuttoning it. “Here, put it on. Pre-warmed.”

She can’t protest anymore before he slips it over her shoulders, and it is incredibly warm and soft, but that’s not what freezes her mind entirely.

Jake’s in a suit. That much was to be expected, considering the event they were going to specifically asked for it, but it only now dawns on her that she’s never seen him in a suit before, not accounting for his dress blues. And what a suit. It’s dark green, emerald, she thinks it’s called, a colour that works perfect with his light brown curls (slightly grown out again), and there’s- there’s a waistcoat involved, and a pocket square, a navy blue coloured pocket square, and she realises it’s the exact same shade of blue as her dress, and her mind can’t even focus on how the cut of his suit seems perfectly tailored around his waist while thinking about that, until Charles’ wolf-whistle pulls her out of her fugue.

“Hot damn, Peralta.” Terry nods next to him. “Didn’t expect you to make the effort, to be honest.”

“Gina has this friend who works at a tailor.” He coughs, and yes, there is definitely a blush on his ears now. “Plays himself as a bit of a stylist, but I think he went overboard.”

Charles “Nuh-uh!” mixes with Rosa’s “Why does Gina keep trying to hook you up with horrible people”, and almost overshadows Amy’s “Do you make any fashion choices that aren’t basically Gina-led?”

“Because she’s Gina.” Jake shrugs and seems to answer both Amy and Rosa with that, staunchly ignoring Charles for the moment, which is probably his best bet.

Amy wants to shoot something back, anything, to keep her mind off of that suit and her eyes from staring, but she can’t. She’s glad she has to look forward as they move on, though, focusing more on not stumbling on the uneven pavement with Jake’s warm, heavy coat over her shoulders.

So he looks good in a suit. That’s fine. He cleans up well. Lots of men do. Terry is wearing a nice suit, too. So’s Charles, she has to admit.

But neither of them pull at the seams of her mind like his does. Neither of them makes her wonder how it feels to let her hands slide down his lapels, maybe grab them midway and pull him forward-

The two block walk is far too short to cool her down again, especially with that cursed warm jacket around her, smelling so much like him and his unusual cologne that he’s definitely never worn to work before, but that will be burned into her nose for a while now.

-*-

He helps her slip both his and her jacket off at the coat check, and there seems to be a short moment where he almost drops hers as she turns around again, his eyes rushing up and down her wrap dress, sporting a cleavage and a high slit that really can only be explained by two glasses of wine and Kylie. At least the sleeves are long enough to not make her freeze anymore now that she’s inside.

“Wow.” He mumbles even as she begins pulling at said sleeves, adjusting the collar that already feels like it’s dropped too far.

“I know, it’s too much, my friend-”

“Too much?!” He interrupts with a stare. “Ames, you look-” He seems to be grasping for something to say, and she can see a flash of a lot of words across his mind before he stares at the ground again for a second to find himself. “Good. You look really good.”

She smiles as her eyes drop to the ground as well.

“Thanks. You look good, too.”

He snorts, before lifting his arm in an inviting gesture, and she doesn’t want to rethink it too much as she slips her arm into the hook of his elbow.

“Well, let’s go look good together then.” He says, and yep, she’s definitely rethinking all of that. For the whole evening. Every time he catches her eyes - she’s not staring, she’s not - and smiles at her. The first time he points to his pocket square, mouthing We match! with almost childlike glee in his eyes. The following five times he does it. Even the one time Charles points it out as they find each other in their little group again, met with a round of sighs and a disgruntled “No, Charles” from Jake himself.

She thinks about it - and about him, and that suit - when he picks up their coats, both swaying and giggling just a little from the free champagne.

And then she thinks about something a bit more, when he slips his jacket over her shoulders immediately, his hands gliding over her bare neck for just a second, the scent of his cologne from the collar only strengthened by the scent of him right behind her.

So he’s cute. So he’s attractive. So he looks amazing in a suit.

So she might be a little bit attracted to all that.

It still didn’t change anything.

-*-

what r u wearing 2 NYPD party, he texts her a year later, and she crinkles her nose at his appalling writing.

You know how to write proper English, I’ve seen your reports. She texts back, and then… Why do you want to know?

Thought it would be fun to match again. comes the well-written answer, and she stares at it for a good ten minutes before finally answering.

Green chiffon.

She was going to change her mind about that dress Kylie helped her pick again, but she won’t. Not now.

-*-

What r you gonna wear babeeeee, he pesters her with the 5th message about it in as many days, ever since she sent him the reservations info for their first anniversary dinner.

I told you it’s going to be a surprise.

Not fair! How am I supposed to match?! She grins as she reads it.

Won’t look good on you if you can’t figure that out, detective.

-*-

“I knew it!”, he grins at her wide at the bottom of her stairs as she descends in her navy blue wrap dress, glad it still fits after years in her closet.

“Easy enough for you to say. You probably have a whole colour range of pocket squares ready.”

“Nuh-uh.” He shakes his head, reaching for her hand on the last step already, his other hand unbuttoning the same ‘grown-up nice jacket’ she knows so well by now. “Look?”

She lets out a happy laugh as she’s met with his emerald green suit jacket, a memory burned into her mind for probably forever.

She’s so glad he never changes.

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet #fic

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mercurygray · 4 years ago

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Interview at the Ritz

In The Darkening Sky, there's an allusion to a trip Joan makes to London for the Army Press Office. I wanted to fill in for myself what some of those interviews would have been like for Joan, and was privledged enough to borrow @shoshiwrites's OC Jo Brandt. Jo, for those of you who don't know her yet, is a girl reporter trying to make good on a war reporting job - she has a quiet and keenly observant mind, and something of a tendresse for Joe Toye, who makes an appearance at the start of this drabble.

Quite a coup, getting to interview the woman everyone wanted a piece of at the moment.

And Jo Brandt had an inside scoop - a scoop she was currently pressing for something, anything, that would help her really nail this interview.

But Joe Toye was being...less than helpful on the scoop front. When Jo had explained her story, and her reason for asking, his expression seemed...almost afraid. Protective, even. “Look, Jo, she’s kinda...she ain’t like us, okay? Grew up in a fancy house, never had to worry about where dinner was.”

“Sort of woman who shops downtown with her chauffeur?” Jo could picture her now, a dainty woman in a dainty suit-set in dove gray, one of those tiny ornamental hats perched on her head and a tiny ornamental dog in the car, who spent more on clothes in a month than Jo paid in rent for the year. (It was hard to imagine a woman like that doing all the things that Joe did, but it was the Army, right, and the Army did some dumb things.)

Toye made a face. “Kinda? But she’s not...she doesn’t look through you like those people. She’s got her head on the right way - smart, you know? Knows things, pays attention when people talk. And...and tough. Best running time in the company. Wants to pull her weight.”

No impractical hat and suit, then. “Sounds like you almost respect her,” Jo accused, joking just a little.

Joe made a face at that, mildly uncomfortable, but he also didn’t say no, and that told Jo a lot. Still - the woman had been a debutante, and Jo had covered enough society page events in a dress from last season and scuffed-in shoes to remember what those girls could do when they didn’t like the way you looked at them.

Even the hallway at the Ritz seemed fancy - white walls and gold paint only just starting to show that there was, indeed, a war on. Jo had given her name at the front desk and waited, feeling out of place, as the concierge rang upstairs to announce her before she was sent on upstairs with directions and a room number.

She was half expecting a butler, like they had in those fancy movies - she knocked, and someone answered “Come in!” from the depths of the suite. The handle of the door felt warm under her hand - she could still turn back now, if she wanted...but she didn’t.

It was a larger, lighter, and fancier hotel room than Jo had ever seen in her life, a whole apartment complete with a sitting room and a cart for coffee service - and the woman in question herself, beautiful in her Class As on the couch. Guess Joe was right about one thing - she’s a looker. “Lieutenant Warren? Jo Brandt, Philadelphia Clarion.”

Her subject rose from the couch, confused for a moment until her face, seemingly despite itself, broke into a laugh.

"I'm sorry," Jo said, feeling immediately defensive, her hand dropped a little. Do I have ink on my blouse or something?

Warren recovered quickly. "Please, Miss Brandt, I'm the one who should apologize. The press officer said that your name was Joe Brandt and... I assumed you would be a man." She shortened her smile and took a few steps forward around the coffee table, offering her hand to shake. "Which is rather rich of me, given the circumstances. Please do forgive me. We'll start over."

Jo looked down at the hand being offered, and, tentatively, shook, looking up at the tall woman and realizing what she was seeing was a genuine smile. "Can I get you a coffee?" the lieutenant offered. "It's usually quite good,here."

“Thank you, that’d be...much appreciated.” Jo smoothed her slacks and sat down, watching what was, in fact, a whole service rather than just a nickel cup of joe.

There was certainly something of the society hostess about the way Joan Warren moved through the hotel room, an actress’s awareness of how she fitted into a space, the movements of pouring the coffee practiced and assured. Coffee at Jo’s apartment came from a stainless steel percolator, not a...a china pot with a spout and a lid that had to be held on as one poured. “Cream or sugar?”

“A little of both?” Jo managed, unsure what one usually said when one was being served and the sugar sifter wasn’t right next to the little chrome napkin dispenser on a chipped lino counter.

“I’m no great shakes at entertaining, but I was taught how to pour coffee,” the lieutenant said, setting the cup (and saucer and spoon) down on the table in front of Jo, as if she were a guest, and not just the hired help. (Those society girls had never even offered so much as a glass of water, not even on those unbearably hot days in May.) “I’m rather terrible with most of the rest of it.” Now, why do I doubt that? Jo thought with a barely raised eyebrow. Man I know says you can’t stand to be terrible at anything, Lieutenant Warren.

“I imagine you get that quite often, people assuming you’re a man?”

“Comes with the territory,” Jo offered, gingerly picking up her coffee by the saucer and stirring a little, trying not to slam the spoon into the sides of the china. “I’m sure you know the feeling,” she added, feeling it was only appropriate.

Another smile. “Some people assume that Joan has been mistyped for John, though...what the a and the h are doing next to each other on that keyboard I couldn’t say,” Lieutenant Warren offered.

She was friendly, this upper class girl from DC, not trying to frost her out or make her feel inferior, and Jo appreciated that. She was trying to remember all the bits from her research - that she’d gone to Goucher for her undergrad (how do you feel college prepares you for officer training?) majored in geography (did you find yourself wishing you’d learned something different?) and was a state record holder in the women’s ten thousand meters. (how physical was training?). Did she feel a certain responsibility towards her uncle’s legacy? Did her cousin and brother have the same pressure?

“I imagine you’ve got questions you need to get through - I’ve gone ahead and made a note of the names and colors of my makeup for you; I know marketers are very particular about their spellings and I wouldn’t want you to get into any trouble.”

Warren didn’t seem particularly happy to offer this - the paper was folded neatly, slid across the table in the same way that one offers a bribe, or a peace offering, resigned to her fate, and it was all Jo could do not to stare. Was...was that really all she was expected to ask? She looked at this woman, ramrod straight on a chair that was meant for lounging, a lifetime of accomplishments suddenly reduced to a list of what she was wearing to the interview, and felt a sudden, angry kinship with her, and made a promise to herself and God: whatever she wrote today, lipstick colors would not be making an appearance.

She took the note and slipped it into the back of her notebook, smiling a little as she did so. We’re friends already, you and I, Joan Warren - we’re in this together. She sat up a little straighter herself and uncapped her pen, leaning in towards the table with the real question she knew millions of women would be wondering as they read the article.

“So, what’s jumping out of an airplane really like?”

#i have written a thing #joan warren #jo brandt #i hope you like it sho!!!#1940s girl gang #mercurygraypresents

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indigo-wendigo · 3 years ago

Text

#500: Redamancy

Happy 500th Piece for Deviants! I thought this one should be significant, so I made it about the current time period; the below piece happens in the year 2022. Cheers, William! Here’s to a million words and a million more!

Victor’s nose became attached to William the second he opened the car door. He scarcely had room to slip out with the great beast attempting to Hoover vac all the hospital smell off of him. Ed shooed the dog away when his tail wags became so vigorous that he swept the work cart clean of all its tools. Maxine circled around to escort William up the stairs from the shop to their home. When she put a hand against his lower back as if to support him, he half-turned. “Maxine, I’m fine.”

“I’m just making sure! You looked a little wobbly—”

“I’m not wobbly.”

“All right!” she hissed.

Ed unlocked the door ahead of William and Maxine nearly shoved past her husband to scurry to the hall closet. “Now, you go ahead and get comfy on the couch.”

The young man rubbed his shoulder. “No, thanks, I think I’ll just go to my room and chill for a bit—”

“NO, sit down, lay down on the couch. Here.” Maxine hurried to position a pillow against the arm and another about where his knees would be.

William felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Ed winking at him and giving him a pat as he took off his shoes. The younger turned back to Maxine. “Okay. Thanks.” He took a seat and leaned back per her instructions.

She fluffed the pillow under his knees. “How’s that? Not too high?”

“It’s perfect, thank you.” He took his shoes off when he realized he forgot, finding it odd that she didn’t bark at him for it.

“Can I get you anything? Glass of milk?”

He blinked. “Yeah, that’d be great, please.”

She poured him a tall glass and brought it to him. “I’m gonna make you a shepherd’s pie.” Maxine patted his bicep twice.

William could almost feel his pupils dilating. “You… You don’t have to do that.”

“I’ve got ground lamb that needs to be eaten and it’s your favorite, isn’t it?” She began setting out ingredients.

He sheepishly picked at the cotton ball that had been stuffed inside his left ear. “Yeah…”

“That’s what I thought.” She turned a knob on the stove to heat an eye.

Ed sat down in the armchair adjacent him and turned on the television. Just about the time he started rubbing the lump on his head, Maxine brought him an icepack to hold against it. He smiled at his wife and thanked her as he put up the footrest with a contented sigh. “How ya feelin’, son?”

The truth was his burst eardrum hurt quite a lot. He had a full headache in addition to a strange sensation of pins and needles when any part of his body touched anything at all. “Well. My tongue stopped itching, so that’s a good sign, I guess.”

“You got lit up like a Christmas tree!” Ed teased, “I bet ya looked like a Looney Tune, skeleton flashin’ and everything, haha!”

“Did Bugs Bunny get a hole blown in his foot?” William pulled his ankle up and removed his sock to scratch the bandage taped to his sole.

“No, and Bugs Bunny certainly never jumped in front of anyone to save their life by taking millions of volts of electricity,” Maxine added as she approached. “Here. They said we could take the bandage off when we got home.”

William responded by sitting up and hunching over, still picking at the tape on the bottom of his foot that was itching between his toes. Maxine pulled his shirt up over his head and carefully peeled the bandage away, yet another uncharacteristic moment. He heard her sigh. “What,” he said.

“I didn’t know… it would spread like that. Ed, look.”

When Ed made a noise of surprise, William attempted to look over his shoulder to see what the spectacle was. Maxine snapped a picture with her phone and handed it to him. He took it and squinted at the photo. It was the oddest mark he’d ever seen on a person’s body before, on the Internet or anywhere else. And it was right behind him.

Of course there was the terrible hole in his shoulder where the lightning struck, blackened and red on the edges from an awful, instantaneous burn. But that wasn’t the weird part. It was the lines that branched out from it. They were mostly red, but blue and green in places, like a watercolor tree root system. Some of these lines had strange, feathery textures. While staring at the picture, he reached a hand over his shoulder to see if he might feel one, but he couldn’t really tell.

Maxine pulled his shirt back down. “Does it hurt?”

“It’s a little sore I guess.” He handed her phone back and reached for his glass of milk for another sip. After he leaned back again, he must have dozed off, because the next thing he remembered was opening his eyes to the television where Ed must have turned on The Twilight Zone. It was the episode about a mean stepfather and a vindictive doll. Now he definitely felt worse though. His muscles all throbbed as if he’d pulled a semi-truck along behind him. It was enough to make him wince, but he still lifted his head at the aroma coming from the kitchen. Shepherd’s pie.

“I was wondering when you’d wake up,” said Maxine near the stove. She was getting down a bowl from the cabinet. “Just in time to have some while it’s still hot.”

He sat up and she brought him the bowl on a tray. It looked wonderful, the way the mashed potatoes had gained a golden, crispy layer on top. Just before he stuck his utensil in to pick a bite, she brought him his glass of milk.

“I put it back in the fridge for you so it would be cold.”

He froze. A sudden and overwhelming feeling of anxiety caused him to set his fork down and lean back.

“You had a nice little cat nap. Do you feel better?”

William saw visions when he blinked, pictures of the past in the dark intervals. Scarlet scooting his chair up to a table filled with sweets. He bit into an apple slice dipped in caramel when she told him his next task. He opened his eyes and it was his serving of shepherd’s pie.

“What’s wrong?”

He could feel his heart beating in his chest, and it seemed to stab his injured eardrum. William swallowed. “Um… Sorry, I’m not hungry right now. Can I have some later?”

She didn’t answer right away. “Sure,” she said gently, again, kind of out of her nature. He felt a tremor take hold of him. Maxine took his bowl back to the kitchen before returning to sit near him on the sofa. “Are you sick to your stomach?”

He shook his head. “No, just not hungry. Sorry.” He should probably say something about how he was looking forward to it, but at the moment he was gripped by impressions of impending doom. When he glimpsed a white-garbed figure passing from the guest bathroom up the stairs, he took to rubbing his eyes roughly.

The old woman took a breath. “I know I should probably be… coddling like this more than I am.” She turned her head, keeping her posture straight. “Ed always said I wasn’t a nurturer. And I suppose I’m not, but… there’s times it calls for it. And I think that nearly getting yourself killed to protect me and Ed would be cause for some extra babying.” She looked back at him. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He stared ahead. Somewhere he could feel crimson eyes on him and he anticipated he might feel a thump at the base of his skull soon. His skin practically vibrated with the sensation. “I’m not really used to it, I guess. At least not without it coming before something bad,” he chuckled. William tilted his head. “Or after.”

She watched him. Most people might have inquired as to what he meant, but she said, “She was nice to you to manipulate you.”

It was conflicting. Yeah, that had to be the truth. But part of him still believed that she was nice to him because she cared about him. At least sometimes. “Or she felt guilty about something she’d done.”

“Did she do that a lot?”

He shook his head slowly this time, almost like he was in a trance. “No. Just made it really confusing when she did.”

Maxine kept her hands in her lap. “Well, I want you to know that my only motive is to show you how much I appreciate you.”

He lightly pursed his lips. “I know. Thank you.”

“And let you know how proud of you I am.”

William nodded.

“For everything.” Her voice broke.

He looked at her, finding her fighting tears. “Oh,” He patted her arm and chuckled. “It’s okay, Maxine.”

She threw her arms around him and nearly plowed him down with her mighty hug. The old woman put her mouth in his shirt. “You’re a good boy!” she cried. “I don’t care what all you ever did, you’re a good boy! And don’t you ever let anyone tell you different!”

He hesitantly held her, shocked by such a sudden and raucous display of emotion from someone he wasn’t entirely sure was capable of it. William patted her back. “It’s okay, Maxine.” When he thought she might let go, she didn’t. So, he held her until she did.

She quickly dried her eyes as if she were embarrassed, and stood up. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m good.” When she started to walk away, he touched her wrist. “Maxine.”

She turned back to him without making eye contact.

“I’m really lucky and grateful… to have you and Ed taking care of me. And I appreciate you.”

Her chin dimpled up as she gave a stiff nod and left the room.

William softly sighed and sat back, absently massaging a muscle in his arm that was tingling. His anxiety had already faded by now. It may have been a weird couple of days, but he finally felt safe.

#ya fantasy #ya fiction #urban fantasy #original work #writblr #writing community #milestone

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deakydeaky · 4 years ago

Note

HC of you meeting of of the boys(preferably Ben or Joe) before COVID and when it hit you stayed with them because you were far from home. Is this too much? Btw I love your posts and just want you to post more again ��

How it started:

You were traveling around a lot before it was finally after the holidays

You were in New York, staying in a hotel when the news about COVID was getting big

In your final days you were going to a shop everyday, just to grab what you needed for the day

That’s when you ran into Joe. You knew you knew him from somewhere but didn’t say anything until you saw him there the next day

“Are you stalking me?” You would ask as you grabbed a bag of chips. He would let out a loud laugh as he looked at you

“Yeah actually, what gave it away?” People sworned around them.” This is crazy huh?”

“Yeah, I gotta get home soon if this keeps up.”

“Or stay in New York? Maybe run into each other before we turn into zombies?” He joked. “Totally.” You would agree and leave it at that

You two saw each other a few more times and gave flirty smiles through out the week and some small talk. He told him about his place and you talked about where you lived

A few days later when you realized that things weren’t going to get better you packed your bags. You first stopped at the shop to grab a few things because you didn’t know what the airport could be like

When you walked in, you saw Joe with a big shopping cart

“Oh my god, I totally started the zombie apocalypse.” Joe said when he saw you

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” You told him as you walked down the isle

“Are you going to be comfortable staying in a hotel?” You would give him a weird look. “I’m heading to the airport.” You told him with a laugh. “All of the airports shut down. No flights anywhere right now.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” You would start to call every hotel as Joe was checking out. Everything seemed to be booked or they were taking anyone new. How caught you outside as you stood by the cab, calling places

“You okay?”

“Everything is booked, Damnit!” Joe would hate to see it. “S-stay with me.” You gave him a look. “You could be a murderer.” You told him before he laughed. “I’m not and I’m serious. You can’t be on the streets right now and I have another room. And I think I have more reason to be worried, get in the cab crazy.”

You stayed in the guest bedroom, and even alone you felt awkward. You thought you should just try to call someone willing to drive all of the way to get you but you couldn’t ask anyone to do that and you didn’t think they would

The next morning you woke up to him pouring coffee. As he gave it to you and started small talk you stopped him.

“Stop. This is super nice but weird. I will call someone and leave. I- I think I should leave but this is great. If you start a bed and breakfast I will def give a good Yelp review.” He would laugh at you.

“Please don’t. Just stay until something opens up and you can safely be on a flight or a hotel. It could be fun. You could tel you kids about it one day or something. I swear I’m not a creep and I really would feel bad if I left you ok your own.”

Staying:

You called your family and told them you were staying with a friend and to not worry

It was awkward at first because either of you knew how to be comfortable with the other but it got better

Making breakfast for each other, being a good house guest, watching a few movies together a week, all around stuff

After two weeks of being in a house together, you thought it time to know each other and started to cook dinner. But horriblely messed up and Joe called his mom for cooking tips

“Mom I’m not joking, no she didn’t add water.” You blushed heavily as he talked to her. He ended up cooking for you which made you feel even worse

“Why were you cooking anyways?” He questioned. “I wanted to be something nice. We’ve been in the same house now for two weeks straight and I don’t know you. You could still be a murderer.”

“I’m an actor actually, pretty sure you knew that. I’m a Virgo, I play bass-“

“And you like long walks on the beach? Real stuff Joe! Also, I guessed Virgo, your earth sign energy is crazy, what’s your moon?”

“I- I don’t know. Ask me something then, anything.”

“Do you like coffee?”

“You crossed the line.” He told you, making you both laugh

Through out quarantine:

Going through 2020 together was the most chaotic thing that happens to you

Watching just about every show on Netflix

Everyday something worse happens you two take a shot and then put a tally on a peice of paper

Having 2020 bingo cards, literally

Ordering a lot of games to pass time

Making bets about what next month will hold

Getting to know Joe in weird ways

Having to explain to where you work that you’re now working from New York

Joe being the most chill person, even with the things that are happening

Him trying to make the days better

Joking about separation anxiety with each other but lowkey if one of you goes to the store for too long the other ones is worried

“What day is it?”

“Thursday.” Joe would question everything he’s done all week but can’t remember a single thing

Becoming rather close and very chaotic

“This is everything we need to do after it’s over.” You would tell him

“An aquarium?”

“Well it’s that or we could get high and watch Jaws, your choice.”

“I’m glad we aren’t those people that go on walks and zoom with their families, that’d make us seem way to normal.”

Trying your best to pass the time, April and May being the worse

Getting a lot of little arguments

“You called me a child when I bought them, and then you took HALF!” You would yell

“You’re fighting with me about this?”

“Yes because you made fun of me. You either get more or we fist fight.”

Neither of you know how to shop for food in the beginning because everything was being taken from the shelves

“You bought two packs of energy drinks?”

“Everyone was taking the water and soda, I had to act fast.”

Catching yourself falling for him

How could you not? He took you in, cooks dinner, helps ease your pandemic anxiety

Him being the biggest goof

“Joe, it’s 1am, I’m not making a fort with you.”

“Why not?”

When the summer came you two held out hope for better things to come but they just seemed worse

Meeting the boys over zoom

“Sorry, we’ve all been really surprised when we heard the story. It’s very Joe but we were scared some weird things would happen.”

“Yeah, I don’t watch him sleep or anything like that.”

“Really? I’m a beautiful sleeper.”

Making him tea

Hearing him over sing in the shower

After the summer with numbers rising again, going home seemed like a dream

You didn’t want to risk your family getting sick but staying with Joe more seemed too much

Wishing you had met at another time because it seemed too weird to make a move. You were getting almost a middle school feeling crush. This ended up in a debate with yourself, talking about pros and cons and leaving and all of the things you have wanted to say since March

“You can do this. You are a strong woman, you are to the point and the worst thing he could say is no and that’s okay, you’re still that bitch.”

“Who’s saying no?” Joe asked you as he came in

“No one, maybe you, I don’t know, wanna watch a movie?” Joe would look at you as you stood awkwardly.” Don’t look at me like that.”

“What’s happening right now.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not you. It is but it’s like your fault but I also have some blaming but you did it.” Joe would nod his head, trying to make sense of anything that was happening.” I have developed, a sorry of, very tiny and minor, crush. That I’m sure it just because another man hasn’t looked at me since March but at the same time I think it’s because you’re a really great person and now I’ve made this awkward and we won’t talk about it ever again.”

“A crush?” “I just said we won’t talk about it.”

It worked out because he ended up liking you back but it was definitely weird for a little

You two felt more in the way or each other than living together

But after a few weeks you two realized how weird you were being and figured out it was nothing

“Trump got COVID.” “Shots?” “Yep!”

As you two were drinking you looked at each other and laughed, spitting the drinks everywhere.

“Wanna order in? Act like this week didn’t happen?”

“Yeah.”

Felt like you were living out a literal movie

Making the best of 2020 although it was weird

Dating:

The same as before but now it’s this new part of Joe

He’s more romantic but still funny and himself

Having “date nights” once a week. That just meant he would light candles and turn the lights out and pretend it was a fancy restaurant

Finding out a lot about each other

Him telling his family about you and how it’s been with you. Making you freak out a lot on the inside

The boys all telling him they were calling it

“You can’t just threaten to lock yourself in the bathroom just because I said I didn’t want pasta tonight.”

“Watch me!”

Still tiny agruments but nothing serious, ever

“It doesn’t matter why! He just did!”

“Then where did the hammer go when he left! He took it with him but when he came back old all he had was the shield!”

Planning out where you two would travel next

You two having the weirdest comfort level with each other

Talking about what would have happened between you two of the pandemic didn’t happen

Game nights becoming twice as better now that you’re both more comfortable with each other

Making both of your guys friends join a zoom to play with

Flipping coins to see who makes dinner

Whenever you don’t eat what he makes he always threatens to never cook again

“Have peanut butter and jelly everyday, I don’t care. You’re missing a real Italian man right now!” He said, coping an accent

Coping each other all of the time just to see what the other one will do

Having the most fun you’ve ever had with him, even with you two stuck in a house

Realizing the a pandemic made you find the love of your life

#Joe mazzello #joe mazzello headcannon #joe mazzello headcanon #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello x reader

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erifin-alt · 4 years ago

Text

Ok so I’m gonna go ahead and spit ball some Hiveswap theories despite the fact they may end up being incredibly wrong as expectations vs reality for the writing of Hiveswap is currently 6 feet under. This is going to be a long one, so to save y’all time the theories will be under the cut.

First off I’d like to state my own theory on the creature that that shot the train in the ending scene. Everyone is believing that it’s Fiamet’s lusus that did it, but why would Fiamet send her lusus to potentially hurt/kill Joey and Xefros especially knowing (or maybe she doesn’t) that Xefros is Dammek’s moirail? Honestly it wouldn’t make sense, given that she was the one that warned Joey about the world ending in 11 days. If it does end up being her lusus then she has a lot of explaining to do. Cause it kinda makes her a villain by hindering Joey’s and Xefros’ travel. Though I don’t think it’s Fiamet’s lusus. Here’s what I believe the beast could be-

1. The monsters from the first game.

We don’t really know the origin of the monsters from the first cut scene in Hiveswap act 1, and I don’t really think it’s all that much discussed. So where did they come from? Perhaps it was to do with something to do with the portal? Maybe. And we do know that the monsters can come in many varieties, including a monster with wings. (Though, more so bat wings compared to the feathered wings in HS:A2 final cut scene)

2. It’s someone else’s lusus. Okay, so I’ll actually be going into depth of how the beast looks like in the final cut scene. And with everyone theorizing that Fiamet’s lusus being an axolotl, I’ll try debunking the “Fiamet’s lusus shot the train” theory.

First off, the beast doesn’t even remotely look anything similar to an axolotl.

Let’s first look at the couple of screenshots I have (apologies for the bad quality)-

Does that tail look anything like an axolotl’s?? The answer is no, but of a course.

Here’s how an axolotl’s tail looks like btw.

Here’s some more screenshots of the beast that I managed to get-

Now, I know what you’re thinking- “But Erifin! Look at the side of the head! It obviously has external gill stalks like a true axolotl!!” That could be a red herring, though, as the things protruding from the side of it’s head could be fluff or feathers. And even it is gill stalks, and it IS an axolotl then why does it’s body look so different than that of an axolotl? Maybe because axolotl’s abilities of regeneration? It kinda seems far-fetched, to be completely honest. But who knows?

So who does the lusus belong to then? Well, maybe there’s going to be a new troll introduced in act 3 that will serve as act 3′s main antagonist Or maybe it’s just a wild lusus that itself will be the main villain.

So now it begs the question, what could this be? Well here’s some ideas I thought of:

1. It’s a weird lizard/amphibian and bird hybrid. It’s not the crazy for there to be a lusus like that, this is Alternia after all. I’m also getting some chameleon vibes from it. Though, this may be relating to the mythology of feathered serpents. Which, by the way, is a spirit deity from mesoamerica. Roughly around the same area that axolotl’s live.

2. A griffin. And yes, I’m bringing up mythological creatures into this. If the Pyropes can have dragons as a lusus then other trolls can have other mythological creatures as lusi as well. The body and proportions fit nicely to that of an griffin, even the tail! However, griffins don’t breathe fire so it’s unlikely that this is a griffin.

3. A chimera, to me this seems like the most obvious choice, sense chimeras are already hybrids to begin with, as if number 1 is true technically this theory is gonna still be true (at least somewhat). Chimeras in mythology are a mash of an lion, goat, and snake, and I’m sure if the crew wanted to make creative decisions they’d also add in some avian wings in the mix. The proportions are similar to that of a lion, the fluff can also be it’s mane. The need to be on a rock, and keep low to the ground could a be a mix of a predators stalking skills and the serpent part. The tail? Obviously the snake head. Oh, and chimeras can breathe fire as well. However the goat part has me thrown off, so who knows if I’m even right.

4. And finally, number 4, I was somehow wrong. Somehow this was Fiamet’s lusus all along, and somehow it is an axolotl. Who knows, we probably have to wait another 1000 years to find that out.

That’s it on the beast theory, now let me ramble a little longer about certain hopes I have about certain characters that may end up becoming more important in act 3. Particularly the trolls that show up in the final cut scene. That is- Martsi, Cirava, Lanque, Tyzias, Elwurd, Mallek, Ardata, Chaut, and finally, Marvus. Now why would they be important? I don’t really know either, but I can sure take a fucking guess! And given that the train fell into a river, I guess one can go ahead and guess that many of the trolls on the train did die. And given that the train was shot near the rust/bronze and gold/olive carts I think it’s safe to say that the most fatalities are going to come from the lower bloods and not so much the high bloods (high bloods are tougher to kill after all).

Hopefully all the troll call trolls end up surviving the crash, but considering hmmm y’know I don’t think it’s likely. But, one can keep their hopes up! However, I do think the certain set of trolls that did show up in the final scene will survive. But why? What will they do that will earn them the chance to live? Let’s get into that.

Martsi’s up first. She was the closest to the blast zone, so there’s a chance that she ends up dying later on. However, if she does live, and from what we have seen in her friendsim (regardless of whether or not friendsim is canon) she seemed to take interest in being a doctor. So I can see her trying to look for survivors and tending to their wounds.

Next is Cirava, I don’t really know what Cirava would do, perhaps they decide to join the rebellion after being convinced by Joey and Xefros. Especially given that Xefros is starting to gain more confidence and thinking for himself for once. Meaning Xefros may go around trying to recruit some trolls to join him and Joey. Or maybe it has to do with something with psionics? Though, that would mean all other gold bloods are dead or passed out. I hope Joey and Xefros do get a party of sorts while they travel I think that’d be fun!

Next is Lanque and Tyzias. Tyzias is a little more obvious, her want to change the system, especially the judicial system, could lead to her joining the rebellion. If Xefros and Joey are trying to recruit others she’d probably join in a heartbeat. Lanque is a little more complicated, I think he will die, but will come back as a rainbow drinker. He does have the title as a life player after all. I think he will die either because the crash killed him, or he died saving someone. I can imagine if the other jades do survive, they’d probably be very shocked. Personally I think Wanshi would take it the hardest as I believe he’d protect her, thus showing us a softer side to him. And as they mourn him he comes back! And it’s very much shocking for everybody! As a monster of sorts he may end up deciding to leave since he’d no longer fit in, since he’s technically dead. He could also take it as an opportunity to finally be free from his duties. His glow/immortality can even come in handy in certain parts of the potential game play.

Next are these two, as for what they’ll do honestly I think Elwurd is just there for fanservice and Mallek? Well, he may help with certain electronics if all the gold bloods besides Cirava do die. Like he takes apart certain parts of the train to make something? I do think they may want to join Joey and Xefros, but Mallek for rebellion moreover then Elwurd given we don’t really know what Elwurd’s loyalty lays.

And then there’s Ardata. She looks very suspicious, no? She may end up becoming a more important villain in act 3. Overall, she looks very...............shady.

And finally, the two eldest clowns. I don’t think they’ll join Joey and Xefros, rather I think they’re still going to be villains. Perhaps they decide to hunt Joey and Xefros down? Maybe they think they’re the ones who crashed the train?

That’s all I gotta say, I don’t think any of my theories will end up becoming true anyways. But hey, one can dream. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my rambling, and apologies if my writing is terrible and there’s grammatical errors everywhere. But what do you think? Let me know!

#homestuck #hiveswap #hiveswap act 2 #martsi houtek #cirava hermod #lanque bombyx #tyzias entykk #gaegrl elwurd #mallek adalov #ardata carmia #chahut maenad #marvus xoloto #long post #glub glub.txt

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zigtheeortega · 4 years ago

Text

thieves in the shadows

part one | read on ao3

pairing | mal x mc [but other pairings could be implied]

word count | 6.5k

warnings | this is a crime au, so there are quite a few warnings. violence, blood, knives, guns, police, criticisms of religion etc. my mc is a detective in this series.

tags | @raleighcarrera, @pixeljazzy, @natesewell, @choicesarehard, @jaxmatsuo, @pantcmime

author’s note | so for the last day of blades week, the lovely @pixelsandkink hosted a sleepover and one of the questions were “what type of au’s would you like to see?” and the idea of a crime au wormed its way into my brain and i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it! i tried to get the whole story done by epilogue day for @bladesappreciationweek but i only managed part one, so more’s to come – i really hope you like it !!! disclaimer: i had to make the names a bit more realistic since they’re human in this au, so tyril is ty, imtura is immy, and my mc zilyana is yana. another disclaimer: people hc imtura as black so she’s written as such in this fic!

•─────────────────•

bullets pelted the crates they were crouched behind, wood splintering in every direction. bodies were strewn across the warehouse, the unmistakable pools of blood streaking across the stone.

“raine! to your left!” immy yelled her way, barely sparing her a glance before unloading her clip, shell casings clinking against the ground.

the gun trembled in yana’s hands. she’d shot one before – practice at the gun range, glass bottles in a back alley – but never a live target.

before she could edge around the shield of crates to take her aim, the cold steel of the blade dug into the skin at the base of her throat.

“well, well,” the voice said. “you seem to be in a bit of a bind, detective nightbloom.”

––––

when she first got assigned to the case, she didn’t want anything to do with it. she was minding her business, just coming off of the high of the egovore case – she’d busted a druglord selling hallucinogenic laced opiates that’d killed a handful of teens in the area.

she turned the new case down initially, citing she needed a break, but in reality… she didn’t care to go undercover again. she’d been asked to do things she never wanted to do, like flirt with vicious criminals who could snap her in half without an ounce of remorse.

don’t get it twisted – she was meant to be a detective. it was in her blood.

but the things she was asked to do took a bit of a toll on her and she needed time to recuperate. she was exhausted, and quite frankly, wanted to be yana nightbloom for a couple of weeks before jumping into another identity.

however, when mayor valleros showed up to the station requesting to speak to her privately, she knew there was no getting out of it.

that night she curled up in bed, reviewing the sensitive case files as well as her new identity, hoping that she could wrap it up in a couple of months.

––––

the taxi dropped her off at the seedy motel on the outskirts of the city, just a couple blocks away from the auto shop.

she suited up in an outfit that “raine” would wear, tucking her gun into her belt, before making the trek.

the sun was low behind the old buildings, most of the strip abandoned or looted, graffiti covering nearly every inch of wall space. tents were scattered in empty lots, a handful of homeless people pushing their carts towards the tents as the last slivers of light dissipated.

all she knew about the area was that a man popped up a couple months prior, bought almost every plot, and set up shop.

he clearly bought the dying businesses so they would stay out of his way.

she’d memorized every inch of her file, committing her persona to memory as well as any details about this crew, which were surprisingly next to none.

mayor valleros couldn’t prove it, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the string of robberies targeting big businesses and millionaires was somehow connected to this rinky dink shop.

the garage was halfway open, the light coming from it trickling out onto the street. the trunk of an old convertible poked out, and she could hear the bass line of a soft rock song the closer she got.

the file she’d received was nearly bare – she was walking into the situation blind. from her knowledge, they were always open to recruits, but they turned away quite a lot of people. they had a serious vetting process and didn’t trust just anyone.

she probably had little to no chance of getting in, but she was gonna do her damnedest to earn their trust.

when she approached the car, she took a slow cautious step inside, hand firmly on hip, ready to pull her gun out at a moment's notice.

a quick cock of a handgun pulled her attention south.

the man rolled to a stop from underneath the car, flat on his back against the scooter, brow quirked, the barrel of his gun pointed up at her.

“and who might you be?”

“i could be asking you the same thing,” she said, hand still on her hip.

“toss the gun over.”

she sighed, tugging it out from her waistband, squatting slowly to place it on the ground, skitting it towards him. she stood up slowly, hands in front of her in surrender.

he snatched the gun, before pushing himself up till he was standing. he slid her gun into his waistband with one hand, keeping his other trained on her.

“gimme the blade in your boot, too.”

she tried keeping her composure – she always kept a pocket knife on her but she nearly forgot it was there. how the hell did he know?

“fuck me,” she cursed under her breath. “if you insist,” he grinned, then motioned his hand towards himself.

she dug it out of her shoe, tossing it over. “how could you tell?”

“lucky guess. didn’t really know if you had one,” he shrugged, pocketing the blade.

they stood in silence, sizing each other up. his eyes raked over her body, lingering on places she was glad she had covered in baggy clothing.

“so, you gonna tell me your name?”

“no.”

“have it your way, rando. you’re not getting past this garage unless you give me something. doesn’t bother me a bit.”

“you clearly seem bothered,” she muttered, shifting her weight to her other foot.

she probably shouldn’t have been so bold, but if he wanted to shoot her, he would’ve done it already.

“nope. i don’t have shit to do. i could do this all day,” he raised a single brow, the one with a slit shaved into it.

“raine,” she said, the one syllable begrudgingly making it past her lips.

“now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he cocked his head to the side.

“you’re not that smart if you think that’s anything more than my street name.”

“street name? what are you, a fed?” He laughed, motioning the barrel of the gun upwards. “show me your waist and back.” “didn’t know ty hired perverts as door greeters,” she rolled her eyes, tugging her shirt upwards, slowly rotating to show off her stomach and lower back, proving she wasn’t wearing a wire.

his brows furrowed as a loud, booming cackle sounded from the doorway.

“you’re just gonna let her talk to you like that, mal?” the tall woman laughed, crossing her arms when she came into view.

“why’d you just say my name like that? i had a whole thing going,” he all but groaned, running a hand over his face.

“eh, who gives a shit. not like she’s in a position to do much, anyway,” she shrugged, her biceps flexing with the motion. “plus, she clearly knows who ty is. she didn’t just waltz in here – armed, might i add – for nothing.”

“who sent you, raine?”

yana shook her head, already slipping into the new, abrasive personality, scrunching her face up in disgust. “i’m not telling you two bozos shit. bring me to ty.”

the woman closed the gap between them in a couple steps, towering over her. she was easily six foot (even taller if you counted the locs piled atop her head), tattoos riddling every exposed inch of her body, her menacing grin gleaming in the dim light. her hands fisted the fabric at yana’s neck, tugging her just high enough that the tips of her shoes brushed the concrete.

she leaned in, quirking a pierced brow. “bozos?”

yana’s resolve was weakening with every second she was dangled by the tall woman. mustering up the last bit of her strength, she furrowed her brows and looked her dead in the eye.

“yeah. you heard me. bozos.”

the woman howled with laughter, and set her down, tousling her hair. “i like this one. she’s fiery.”

“of course you would. you like ‘em when they talk back,” mal chuckled, lowering the barrel.

she sucked her teeth, shrugging. “the harder to tame, the better.”

“i’m not here for either of you.”

“raine, was it?” she ignored the dig, holding her hand out to yana instead. “immy. i’m kind of the brawn around here if you haven’t noticed.”

immy jabbed her thumb at mal, smirking. “he’s not the brains of the operation. don’t worry about that.”

“hey!” he said, holstering his gun. “you’re really gonna disrespect me like that in front of some rando?”

“damn right i will. right this way, raine,” immy said, offering her arm. yana eyed it, forcing a grimace.

“i highly suggest you take my arm so i don’t have to restrain you.”

yana laced her arm through immy’s, her taut muscle telling her everything she needed to know – she could not fight her way out of this one.

they weaved through the shop, making their way down a dim hallway towards a back room. the decor was modest, much like a bar you’d see on the edge of town where the patrons are always the same and everyone minds their business.

mal walked in front of them, approaching the big wooden door, rapping his knuckles on it a few times.

she was so wrapped in the adrenaline rush of it all that she hadn’t really noticed quite how attractive mal was. she’d dealt with attractive criminals before, but none that were as infuriating and arrogant as him. most of them minded their business and didn’t let those feelings surface, even if it was in a joking manner.

she guessed she was staring a bit too long – when she met his eyes, he winked.

“ayo, someone’s here to see you,” he yelled, leaning his hip against the door frame with a smirk.

“come in.”

“wow, bossman didn’t even hesitate,” immy said, seemingly impressed.

“maybe he knew she was coming,” mal mused before pushing the door open.

the room was large, the bookshelves lining the walls filled left to right, top to bottom with books. the black leather couches looked straight out of a casting call room, much to her distaste.

his desk was massive, seemingly a bit out of place with the rest of the more toned down decorations – long, polished mahogany with intricate carvings up and down the sides.

his posture was perfect, his fingers laced in a neutral pose. as they approached the seats facing his desk, he pushed his book to the side, slipping his glasses off and placing them on top of the cover.

“i’m assuming someone sent you,” he stated, rather than asked, expression unreadable.

“no one sent me. i don’t have a crew,” yana answered, trying to keep as calm as him.

“someone must have told you about our operation.”

“well, you’re not infamous by any means, but people are definitely talking,” she shrugged.

he stood, taking slow steps until he was at the front of the desk. he glanced at immy, then the chair, and before yana knew it, she was shoved down into a sitting position.

she tried to remain nonchalant as he leaned against the edge of the desk, arms neatly folded.

“so what do you think you know about us?” he asked with a small smile, bright blue eyes piercing.

“i know you’re ty, the head of the group. i don’t know much else,” she was being completely truthful with him, glad to drop the facade (albeit briefly).

he nodded. “that’s good. we want as little information out there as possible.”

he leaned down, long strands of hair falling in front of his shoulders, holding her gaze.

yana wasn’t one to squirm under pressure, but the way he was looking right through her, as if he was browsing the core of her being, she couldn’t help but ball her hands into fists to stop them from trembling.

“what’s your name?”

“raine,” she murmured, struggling to keep her face neutral.

his eyes subtly flitted around her face, probably trying to pick up on her microexpressions – she’d been trained in the art of facial expressions and lying, so she was thankful in that moment that she’d actually paid attention to the presentations.

he leaned back, looking at mal and immy. “she’s trustworthy.”

just like that? she kept her breathing even, trying not to visibly relax. she expected it’d be a bit harder than that.

“so, raine. what exactly do you want to do here?” he asked, walking around the desk to sit back in his seat.

“last time i worked with a crew, they cheated me out of most of my cut.”

ty nodded, eyes focusing in on her face again.

“i’m not here to make friends. i just want to make enough money to stay afloat,” she said bluntly, letting a bit of the truth shine through again.

he nodded again, putting his glasses back on, flipping through the book.

“we all pull our own weight here. we’re all expected to defend ourselves in any situation we’re in,” he said, voice low, scrawling notes in the margins of the book.

“can you shoot a gun?”

“yes.”

“can you wield a knife?”

“yes.”

“hand to hand combat?”

“yes.”

most of the training was because of the academy, but she’d been a scrappy teen – she’d got into plenty of fights and had always been able to hold her own.

mal plopped onto the seat next to her, leg strewn across the armrest, popping a stick of gum in his mouth. “she’s gonna need a little bit of training. immy and i got her.”

ty arched a brow at mal, seemingly in slight annoyance. “training?”

“oh yeah, she strolled in here with a gun and a knife and i took her out before she could cock it,” he laughed, shooting a wink her way.

immy laughed, too, but ty wasn’t nearly as amused. “she’ll need to be at Mal’s skill level at least by our next phase.”

“‘mal’s skill level’? what the hell does that mean?” mal asked, sitting up straight.

immy’s soft chuckles morphed into her friendly booming cackle that yana had been introduced to a couple minutes before.

“you’re clearly weaker than immy. no one’s touching her,” ty said simply, delving back into his work.

mal sighed, standing. “cut me some slack, boss. not my fault she’s taller and buffer than me.”

“yes, you should blame genetics.”

yana found herself rolling her lips together, failing to back a smile. ty caught her eye and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

for just a second, she felt comfortable with them, but she had to bury that thought and keep at the task at hand.

they were criminals, this was an investigation. no attachment, no complications.

“when nia gets here, ask her to go shopping for raine,” ty said, then resumed his work.

“you got it, boss,” immy said, pulling yana to her feet, leading her to the bookcase across the room.

she pulled a book back, revealing a keypad. she typed a long string of numbers and popped her thumb on the screen at the bottom, stepping back so that the bookcase could shift. a set of stairs appeared, leading downwards, most likely towards a basement of some sort.

“are you guys gonna kidnap me or something?”

immy grinned. “nope. all the good stuff is down here.”

the concrete staircase led to a long hallway, multiple doors on either side. “your room is the last one on the left, right after the gym.”

“gym?” “yeah, you think i could upkeep these guns without a routine?” immy joked, walking with her to the end of the hallway.

her room was surprisingly big. king sized bed, walk in closet, huge bathroom with a separate shower and tub – it was larger than her apartment.

“i’ll leave you to it,” she said, pointing towards the dresser against the wall. “there’s some spare clothes in there.”

and then she was alone.

the shower she took was quick – she even stuck a chair under the door handle just in case. she didn’t trust anyone here enough to take a long shower.

she tossed on the clothes, wrapping her long dark hair up in a towel. right about then she’d wished she’d planned things out a bit better. all of her case materials were back at the motel, and she desperately wanted to update the case files with what she’d learned.

ty, mal, immy, nia. ty, mal, immy, nia. she committed the names to memory, and the appearances of the former three, too.

a knock at the door took her out of her train of thought.

she answered it, surprised to see mal standing there in a loose fitting floral top, way different than the hoodie he’d worn when she first met him.

“here,” he said, handing her the gun and blade. “forgot to return these in the excitement of it all.”

“thanks,” she said, turning to put both on the side table near the door, leaving mal standing there.

“you gonna invite me in?” he asked, leaning against the door frame.

she shrugged, feigning nonchalance as he strode in, plopping on the edge of her bed, legs sprawled wide while he leaned back on his elbows.

“so… raine. ready for training?”

“yep.”

“not talking much? understandable. i should probably introduce myself, though. properly.”

she eyed him, crossing her arms.

“i’m mal. i own all of this,” he said, gesturing around him. “volari’s the last name. well, the last name i picked.”

she nodded, knowing that she couldn’t reveal any personal information unless directly asked, trying to calculate out how to skirt around questions without being suspicious.

“the shop’s a front. kind of our homebase, ya know?” he popped his gum, gaze flitting up and down from her loose fitting clothes to her face.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“just trying to figure you out, raine,” he emphasized her fake name, a knowing grin spreading.

yana rolled her eyes, crossing the room to the mirror, tugging the towel off her hair. “there’s nothing to figure out.”

“yeah, sure,” he said, sarcasm lacing his tone. “meet me in the gym tomorrow at 5 a.m.”

“that’s super early,” she said, watching him through the mirror as she raked her damp hair into a bun.

“we’ve gotta fit in your first training before we open shop,” mal winked, standing up from the bed.

“oh.”

“‘night,” he said, giving a lazy salute, before tugging the door shut with the toe of his shoe, leaving her standing alone.

––––

she barely slept that night, unable to stop the unending rolodex of details flitting through her mind.

names, height, build, tattoos, notable scars, voice – anything that she’d recognize regardless of a bad dye job or style change.

she gave up after a while, getting up when the clock said 3 a.m. slipping her blade into her waistband, she headed to the gym, hoping that she could cardio her way into a short nap.

the gym was immaculate – top notch equipment neatly lined the walls with more than enough space throughout for a group of five.

after scanning the room, she opted for a treadmill, deciding that sprints were the best way to tire out both her body and mind.

each pump of her legs was more painful than the last, the aching burn flickering up her legs with every slam of her shoe against the belt.

keep going, keep going, keep going.

yana didn’t give up. never was a quitter, never would be a quitter.

sweat beaded across her back and forehead, her breathing in tandem with her strides.

when she crossed the mile line, she slowed her pace, opting for a light jog for as long as she could handle it (another mile or two).

the sound of a singular shoe squeaking had her grasping for her knife, ready to point it at the intruder. But before she could get a grip on it, another hand snatched it from her waistband, flicking the blade out, training the tip at the base of her neck.

mal grinned at her. “not bad.”

she panted, flyaway hairs sticking to every slick patch of skin. he used the tip of the blade to delicately flick a strand off her shoulder.

“reflexes could be a bit faster, though.”

he lowered the knife, tossing her a cool towel instead.

“it’s 3 a.m. and i wasn’t expecting anyone,” she grumbled, dragging the towel down her face to sop up the sweat.

“correction: it’s 4 a.m. and you should always expect the worst.”

“why are you here so early then?” she snapped, flinging the towel over her shoulder in exasperation.

“same reason you’re here. can’t sleep,” he shrugged, before reaching behind him to tug off his white tee.

she finally got a full look at him and she wasn’t disappointed.

tanned, muscled torso, riddled with scars and tattoos alike, peppered with hair all across his front. It was really fucking hard not to stare.

she averted her eyes as he did a couple warm up stretches, leaning and stretching and looking oh so gorgeous while he did it.

his right arm was covered, a full sleeve from shoulder to wrist. the other arm was a half sleeve, his forearm bare except for a small tattoo with daggers and blood drops.

she’d noticed his gold earrings when she’d met him, since it was one of the flashiest things about him.

but the singular nipple ring? that was new. and definitely something she didn’t think would stir something in her.

she strode across the gym, trying to put some distance between them, grabbing the small weights. yana squatted and lifted and squatted and lifted but nothing she did could distract her from the soft grunts coming from mal across the room.

he was on a fucking pull up bar, tugging himself upward, hair tied back, sweat beading on his brow.

one of the biggest undercover no-no’s was getting involved with anyone while on the case. Even if they’re surrounding the case – not even a main target – it was all but forbidden.

unless… it was for intel.

get a fucking grip, dude. she shook the thought away, all but spraying herself with a hose at the thought.

“it’s about that time,” he said, a while later.

she pushed through her last few crunches, shaking off the burn as she stood up.

“i fail to see why i need to be trained. i don’t even know what we’ll be doing,” she said nonchalantly, stretching her arms.

the easiest way for her to get intel was to pretend like she didn’t care. It worked with most male egos she came across – the second she acted like she’d rather be anywhere else, the man would all but spell out his diabolical plans with a diagram and a play-by-play.

“i think you’ll at least need to know how to defend yourself. never know what situations we’ll get into,” he said, vaguely, scrubbing his own towel across his chest and torso.

unfortunately, that told her nothing.

“alright, so first thing’s first, we’ll need to roll out these mats –”

immy slammed the door open, cutting off mal’s first order.

“nia brought the grub! get in here before i eat it all,” immy said, throwing a knowing look at yana.

she looked to mal, waiting for his direction.

“go ahead. i’m gonna finish up my workout. save me a plate, alright?” he asked, striding towards the weights.

yana slipped past her and into the hallway without a second glance, trying to look anywhere but the sly grin that stretched immy’s mouth.

“so what was going on in there?” immy asked, teasing.

“nothing. just training.”

“just training. suuuure,” she said with a laugh, clapping yana on the back, knocking the wind out of her.

they trudged up the stairs to the autoshop, yana’s legs crying out with each step. she was regretting the workout in that regard, but a tiny part of her brain was revelling in the time she spent with mal, mind reeling over each physical detail of him.

they made their way to the tiny kitchen (much smaller than the one underground), greeted with a few platters of breakfast food and a smiling woman.

“hi! i hear you’re the one who took over my bedroom,” nia grinned, giving a friendly wave. “it’s so nice to meet you.”

she cocked her head to the side, making sure to make a slight spectacle of almost not trusting nia’s friendliness – had to lean into the “raine” persona, right?

nia’s smile didn’t waver as she gestured at the food. “i thought i could give you a bit of a warm welcome. it was undoubtedly nicer than theirs, huh?”

ty chuckled under his breath, stepping away from the counter with a steaming mug of coffee. “you know us too well, nia.”

immy snorted, grabbing a plate and piling up the bacon and pancakes. “thanks, chief.”

nia laughed in response, handing a plate to yana, encouraging her to eat.

it was such a weird atmosphere. the night before was pretty tense – yana was tense. she was petrified of sleeping through the night for fear of someone coming in the room and offing her.

and to be greeted with platters of food and a chill atmosphere? madness.

it made her a bit nervous considering in her experience some of the most heinous crimes were committed by tight knit crews that considered each other family. she couldn’t help but wonder what kind of shit she’d gotten herself into.

she piled her plate with fruit and oatmeal, leaning against the wall as she popped a spoonful of cinnamon oatmeal in her mouth, chasing it with a sliced apple.

“glad to finally tip the scales. i didn’t think we’d be adding anyone to the crew, but i’m so happy you’re here,” nia said, taking a sip from her mug.

“i think immy’s woman enough for the both of us,” yana shrugged, shoveling another spoonful in her mouth.

“don’t tempt me, raine. i have no issue telling you exactly what i wanna do to you,” immy lifted a brow, licking the underside of her spoon very slowly, holding her gaze.

nia nearly choked on her tea, mumbling a soft “excuse me” as she grabbed a napkin to blot her mouth.

“flustering the nun. another tick off my bucket list,” immy cackled.

“former and i was training,” nia threw a pointed look at her, locking eyes with yana right after.

“you’re here with us now. that’s all that matters,” ty said, with a bit of finality, hushing the rest of the conversation.

mal burst into the room, drenched in sweat and half naked. “pancakes? oh fuck yeah. thanks nia.”

he piled the food on his plate, plopping down on the barstool at the counter. he glanced back at yana, then patted the seat next to him with a smirk. “i don’t bite.”

she rolled her eyes, rigid stance betraying the fluttering in her chest. she slid in next to him and ate silently, eyes trained on her food.

“so, boss, what’s on the agenda for today?” mal asked through a mouthful of food.

ty stared at him in disgust, setting his mug down to address the room. “we have a lot of planning to do. these next few jobs have to be absolutely seamless if we want to evade law enforcement.”

“what, you’re saying that the pigs caught wind of us?” immy asked, annoyance lacing her tone.

“no, not to my knowledge,” ty shook his head, a single wrinkle appearing between his thick brows. “but we won’t be able to keep this up for long.”

he strode over to the spread of food, grabbing a single grape, tossing it into his mouth. “each his has to count. there’s absolutely no room for mistakes.”

everyone nodded in agreeance.

“mal and immy, you’re with me. we’ll be planning escape routes, seeing if they match up with our physical map, scouting the areas – the grueling work. nia,” he said, glancing down at her. “you’ll take raine shopping. she’ll need a dress for the gala.”

he trained his gaze on yana, gaze penetrating right through her. she held her breath, hoping that nothing about the way she ate, sat, breathed tipped him off –

“get her a wig, too.”

––––

a power nap and a couple hours later, yana and nia were in nia’s car, driving towards the center of the city to the mall.

“i’ve never been to a gala before,” yana murmured honestly, watching the storefronts pass by, gradually getting more and more expensive.

“once you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all,” nia shrugged, flicking her blinker before turning into the parking garage.

shopping was fairly painless. nia took her to her favorite store, forced her to try on a handful of dresses, and thankfully the second one fit (and was both of their favorites).

“this is too much,” yana said bluntly, trying to mask her eagerness to wear the floor length gown.

“no it’s perfect. you’ll fit in seamlessly,” she said, swiping her card. the cashier handed her the plastic covered gown, and they were out again.

“i have a few wigs back in my room that you can try on. i’m thinking a short blonde bob for you,” nia said, reaching out to gently push yana’s long dark strands over her shoulder.

nia was beautiful. her long red curls soaked up the sun and reflected the gold – she was clearly the best of them all with a heart big enough for everyone and then some.

her eyes were soft, smile even softer, with curves even softer than that.

there was something about nia that felt like home. yana brushed the thought away, redirecting her mind to the event.

“what am i supposed to do at the gala?”

“schmooze some rich people, make them think you’re high society, gain their trust, all of that,” she said simply, unlocking the car.

–––

after a quick wig fitting, nia flipped a hand mirror yana’s way, grinning widely. “you look gorgeous.”

“oh... that’s different.”

nia frowned. “different as in bad?”

“no, not bad,” she said, running her hand through the short blunt bob that didn’t even graze her shoulders. “just different. i’ve never been a blonde.”

“oh, you’ll be alright,” she reassured her, grabbing a mannequin head with a long blonde wig on it, pre-styled with curls and braids galore. “there’s always a first time for everything!”

when they emerged from their room, ready to head to the event in an unknown location (which made yana insanely nervous), the rest of the crew were neck deep in planning, mumbling amongst themselves.

“we’re out! be back in a few hours,” nia waved without a second glance, jingling the car keys as she went.

the three of them looked stunned when they laid eyes on yana. immy’s mouth upturned into a smirk and mal’s scarred eyebrow lifted – even ty looked a bit taken aback.

“you clean up well, raine,” immy nodded, gesturing to her gown.

“thanks,” she said, a bit uncomfortably.

as yana, she was flattered; as raine, she was bothered.

“uh, well, i’ll be back soon. bye.”

“wait,” mal called as she turned her back. “here.”

he slipped a blade and a thin leather strap into her hand, gently closing her fingers around it. “just in case.”

“is this –” she stopped, looking at the buckle and pouch. a thigh strap for the blade.

“yup. stay safe, raine,” he winked, returning to the table, which was covered in maps and loose papers.

–––

the gala was pretty boring.

maybe it was because she wasn’t exactly sure why she was there quite yet, so she couldn’t properly gather intel, but either way the attendees were bland.

nia blabbed on and on about mundane things with the men, laughing, twirling her hair, and gently resting a hand on a shoulder at the right time.

they were putty in her hands.

yana on the other hand was as charming as she could manage, trying to coax information out of the men who were two seconds away from getting handsy.

an hour and a half in, nia took the stage, which surprised her.

what shocked her even more was the fact that the gala was for charity. specifically nia’s charity.

she commanded the stage like she belonged there, and by the end of her speech about taking care of the people of their city, every socialite was scrambling to add an extra zero to their checks.

“this is your event? for your charity?” she whispered in nia’s ear between shaking hands and thanking the patrons.

“yeah! i’ll tell you more about it on the way back,” she said offhandedly, before leaning in to hug a woman covered in decadent jewels.

when they made it to the car, nia spilled immediately.

“so, i’m the face of the charity by day. it’s fairly new and pretty small,” nia started, keeping her eyes on the road.

“and you failed to mention your connection to it because…?”

“the crew thought i should wait to tell you.”

“i feel like i don’t have all of the pieces here, though.”

she sighed. “you don’t.”

yana raised a brow.

“i’m a former novitiate. a nun in training, if you will. i trained at a large church in the heart of the city, and my dream was to eventually head an orphanage and lead troubled youth to christ.”

“what changed?” she asked cautiously.

“my eyes were open to the corruption of the church before it was too late, thankfully. i couldn’t handle the greediness. it felt like every decision was driven by profit, not spirituality. their numbers were dollar amounts, not souls saved,” nia sighed, slowing to a stop at the red light, tugging the wig off her head. “each case was hand chosen for potential monetary gain. nothing was genuine.

“after leaving the church, i created the charity specifically to take care of homeless citizens, since we have a huge population of them. we’re focused on small victories like proper kitchens and distributing survival kits right now, but we’re working towards bigger things.”

“so… why was i involved tonight?” yana asked earnestly.

“because you’re a new face. a pretty face. virtually undetectable to these people. i can’t do all of it on my own, you know,” she smiled.

“so what does this have to do with the crew?”

“i’ll let them explain that to you,” nia said simply, ending the conversation.

––––

when they entered ty’s office, the rest of the crew were there, sitting around, drinking and chatting.

“there’re the pretty ladies,” immy slurred from her seat, holding up her nearly empty mug of beer.

“any news?” ty asked after taking a small sip of what looked like scotch.

“raine did awesome, just as i suspected,” nia beamed, throwing her arm around yana’s waist.

“that’s what i love to hear,” mal said from the seat next to immy, winking when yana caught his eye.

“i told her a bit about the gala, and my charity, but i thought i’d wait till we were all together to explain further.”

ty nodded. “that was the right move.”

“i’m all ears,” yana said, slipping into the open seat next to immy.

“you ladies earned a drink. let me grab you one before we get started. beer okay?” mal asked, jogging out the door towards the kitchen.

“beer’s fine,” yana called, slipping her heels off and rubbing her aching feet.

as soon as they both had their drinks, ty addressed her, launching into a full explanation.

“nia’s our best judge of character. i’d apologize that you weren’t kept in the loop until now, but you know how these things work. we can’t compromise the mission,” he said, stepping up from his desk to pace.

“nia is also our decoy, if you will. she’s the one who draws in the potential targets so we can gather information and plan. the rest of us are… not quite on good terms with the law,” he said, pausing his stride to look at yana.

immy laughed, throwing back the last of her beer. “you can say that again.”

“what’d you do?” yana asked, eyes darting between mal and ty.

“well, i’ve just done a lot of dirty work for people,” immy sighed, wincing. “and it backfired.”

“i’ll refrain from speaking about personal matters,” ty said, a hint of pain in his gaze.

“unlike the boss, i don’t mind telling you. i can’t remember a time where i wasn’t pissing off some cop. the list is endless,” mal grinned.

“you can’t just ask us and then not tell us what you’ve done,” immy complained, sliding her mug onto ty’s desk, quickly grabbing a coaster when ty’s gaze turned sharp.

yana shrugged. “i don’t know. i’ve always been a bit of a problem.”

it was true. growing up in foster care toughened her up pretty early. protecting her brother from bullies kept her in trouble.

they were never formally adopted, but they spent so much time in the same foster homes over time that kade just became her brother.

she got into the normal scrappy kid problems, stopping eventually when she’d racked up enough petty misdemeanors to potentially get time.

instead, she begrudgingly joined the force. she never liked being a cop, but she loved detective work.

it wasn’t her dream job, but it was the job that let her be whoever she wanted to be. yeah, sometimes she hated slipping into a different identity every couple of months (or years), but she couldn’t picture herself doing anything else. at least right then she couldn’t, as she sat amongst a crew that she’d infiltrated with no issue – she was playing them like a fiddle, and they had no clue.

“good thing we like to fix problems here,” mal said, eyeing her as he tipped his drink back.

nia laughed nervously, gripping her bottle tight. “okay, can we continue? please?”

“thank you, nia, as always, for keeping us on track,” ty said, nodding her way. “our operation is one that some would consider the… vigilante sort.”

“as in, you’re taking matters into your own hands?”

ty nodded again. “we’ve all experienced corruption in the city at different levels, and we’ve grown tired of sitting idly by while nothing gets done by the same officials who get reelected term after term while having no record of accomplishments.”

“and you think i’m a good fit here?” she didn’t know why she blurted that question out. it’s like every time she was on thin ice she ventured farther and farther, begging for it to crack.

“i saw it in your eyes, raine. you want to help people,” he said, holding her gaze. “this – our operation – can be how you do that.”

“i still don’t know what i’m getting myself into. i can’t decide anything without knowing,” she said, honest again.

“you’re going to have to decide.” his voice was firm, unwavering. he knew exactly what he was doing – every step of the past twenty four hours was a test, each interaction with each member converging to this moment.

she looked to each person in the room, from immy’s bright gaze, to nia’s warm inviting eyes, to mal’s sultry stare, to ty’s – his icy blue eyes were piercing. like the first time she met him, he was staring right through her as if he could see the essence of her being if he searched hard enough.

“i’m in.”

––––

#playchoices #bladesaw #mal volari #mal volari x mc #tyril starfury #nia ellarious #imtura tal kaelen #my fic #jade writes choices fics

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