#everyone guess in the comments how many docs are in my drive | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wing-ed-thing · 4 years ago

Text

Group Project (Shino x Reader x Kisame x Temari)

Request:

Word Count: 2,282

Tags/Warnings: Language, Alcohol Mention, Gender Neutral Reader @brokennerdalert @narahanabi

Notes: I have never written for Temari before. I think I got her spot on tho. This was actually too fun to write. Enjoy, y’all.

The only time that worked for everyone was 10 o’clock. Which, by the way, sucked ass. At least, that was what Kisame said in the groupchat just ten minutes before you dragged yourself out of your dorm and into the rain. You trudged through the puddles, holding your jacket closed over your body to protect your backpack-encased laptop. Shino had a night lab. The earlier he finished his work the earlier he could leave. Temari had been insistent about that. She had some sort of circle and you remembered Kisame asking her why she couldn’t just skip for the week only to be met with a passive aggressive response. And Kisame himself had hockey practice. Even the sports houses were off campus, only impeding your scheduling efforts.

When you got to the longue, Temari had already set up all of her belongings. She sat herself in a cluster of four shallow armchairs and spread out a flurry of papers on the long coffee table. With the packed schedule that she threw into the chat, you wondered how she got there so quickly. Temari looked up at you with one long, slender brow raised.

“Oh good, at least you’re here.” Unsure, really, of what to make of her backhanded compliment, you sat down in the chair across from her and wordlessly unpacked your laptop.

You never liked general classes. At the end of the day, you worked on a few big, group projects, ultimately learned nothing, and your grade depended on the work ethic of others. You glanced over at Temari. She likely didn’t even have the same major as you. Granted, that was probably the point of the class, but nonetheless, it weighed on your already drooping eyes knowing that you’d have to pour so many late night hours into a project that would amount to nothing.

You pulled up your school account and sifted through your notifications.

“I signed us up for a research question. I thought that censorship in the classroom was an easy and relevant one. I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to get into the intricacies of drones at this time of day.” You couldn’t help but nod. Temari sure pounced on top of things quickly and for that, you were thankful to have received an easy prompt.

“Sounds great,” you mused and the heavy door from the outside to the longue slammed shut. You glanced over your shoulder to find Kisame, still in athletic clothes grinning as he approached.

“Well this is bullshit, isn’t it?” Those were the first words to come out of his mouth and you could practically hear Temari groan in exasperation. Kisame plopped down in the armchair beside you, offering you a wink as he did. “What kinda professor assigns a project on Tuesday only for it to be due Thursday? Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

You averted your eyes back to your screen, pretending to sort through your notifications. You hummed in response, too easily flustered and too tired to process. Temari’s fingers flexed over her own keyboard.

“It’s the beginning of the semester. It’s to test out organizational skills and teamwork,” she managed through half-gritted teeth. You looked between your two teammates, wondering what exactly happened between them that made them so hostile to each other. You made a mental note to not get in the way of whatever that was. Kisame scoffed, sitting back in the arm chair and reaching for his own computer.

“I don’t really care what it is and why it is. What I care about is that I’m wasting my Wednesday night…”

“Ah, yes, Wednesday night,” Temari repeated mockingly, “Because I know that I like getting plastered in the middle of the week.” Kisame leaned towards you on his left arm cushion.

“Soy Sauce over there is just sore that her brother picked a fight with one of my boys and lost. Sasori’s a short guy too, you should link with us sometime.” You heard Temari scoff.

“Yeah, like Kankuro would lose to any of the thugs you hang around—”

“Who are you calling a thug?” Temari met Kisame’s pointed glare. Even so, he sank farther into his seat, lifting one ankle to rest on his knee. “Though, I think it says something that you knew exactly what I was talking about—” He punctuated every word with a smug swing of his head before Shino walked in.

“Nice to see that things are lively in here.” He made his way across the lounge before plopping down next to Temari. A white piece of cloth hung out from his backpack, something that Temari didn’t miss as Shino prepared his materials.

“That’s a hazard.” She bit the inside of her lip.

“Don’t listen to her. She’s been grumpy since before you came here,” Kisame quickly explained, much to Temari’s disdain.

Looking across from you, you almost wished that you had just been paired up with Shino. You didn’t know him that well, but he seemed smart, capable and overall, quiet. Temari had drive, but her approach felt intense. Meanwhile, Kisame seemed like he couldn’t care less about the project. Or perhaps, it was more that he couldn’t care less about Temari.

“So the paper,” you began out of sheer nervousness. “And the presentation…” The three sets of eyes turned to you. You glanced at the clock. You had already wasted more than a half hour.

“Let’s be real here, a five page research paper is nothing,” Temari said, also crossing her legs. “It’s the presentation that we should worry about.” Kisame let out a breath.

“Well, here I was about to say the opposite.” He turned his neck to the side and you heard a few audible cracks. “What about we split it up if the paper is so easy for you?”

“I’m not just doing the paper by myself. Besides, I’d need to find sources and by the time I’ve found sources and written everything up, I’ll have done most of the work.” Temari wrinkled her nose at your partner next to you. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what you were banking on.”

“Here.” Shino’s low voice broke through the room. With one exaggerated click on his keyboard he looked up at the three of you. “I just put a list of sources in the shared doc. There’s ten of them which should be more than enough. I pulled a few articles and a few academic papers which should meet the criteria from the rubric.”

Temari blinked down at her computer, furiously switching tabs. Her lips formed a round ‘o’ shape.

“Nice work, Shino,” you praised only to receive a shy nod. “I think if we take an anti-censorship stance, it’ll make out work easier given the time that we have to finish. Maybe Temari, you can start the paper and I can start the slides.”

“I can help you with that,” Kisame offered and you typed his email into the share box.

“I’ll help Temari with the paper,” Shino said with another nod.

“Start with the counterarguments. I’ll work from the top, you work from the bottom.” Temari gestured widely to Shino’s screen and you let out a relieved sigh. Maybe you’ll be able to get all of this done after all.

Time flew during the late hours of the night. You didn’t know what it was about the nighttime that made time feel quicker than usual. Soon enough, the clock struck one. Temari plucked ferociously at her laptop and it surprised you that Kisame hadn’t asked her what she was punishing her keyboard for. Shino, on the other hand, liked to stand. About an hour ago, he had stood up from his seat, and with one foot on the low level of the coffee table, kept at writing his part of the paper. Temari and Shino didn’t speak much. Rather, their side of the table mostly sounded of clicking.

Meanwhile, you and Kisame were having a great time. He made you laugh much to Temari’s annoyance, but knowing that you were getting your parts done, she didn’t comment. Despite his outward physique, Kisame had a sense of style when it came to design and organization. You flew through fonts and images quickly and by the time you had cleared the first few slides, even you were impressed by how professional it looked. The clock read two o’clock.

“This was your conclusion, right?” You turned your screen in your hands to face Temari. She squinted over and her eyes lit up.

“Actually, that’s a way better wording. Imma just steal that…” She clicked some more. “That’s some great work.”

“It was actually all Kisame.” And to your surprise, he didn’t gloat. Instead, he remained eerily focused. Temari glanced at him before glancing away.

“Like I said, great work…” she muttered.

“We’re almost done with the slides,” you announced, “Do you guys need help with the paper?” Shino shook his head. You found that he preferred non-verbal answers.

“We’re wrapping up over here, too,” Temari answered.

“Good, because I’m fuckin’ starving.”

And with the one mention of food, you all looked up at each other.

***

There was only one place open this late at night and it was one block away from campus. Fast Food, of course, but no one in your group complained. The dining halls were closed and most of you didn’t keep your rolling pantries stocked with anything worth eating at two in the morning, so you packed up your things.

It felt odd walking down the road with this group of people. You chattered amongst yourselves about anything other than your assignment.

“Me? I’m a biology major. I want to study beetles but I have to get my undergrad before I can do anything really specific.” By far, Shino had to be the most interesting of you all. You made your way off of campus, the restaurant in your sight. And as the walk continued, so did your conversation.

“I’ve wanted to try the new place that they opened up by admissions but they’re always closed when I try to go.” Temari pouted and you crossed the street together. You wondered if spending four straight hours having to communicate with any three people could make talking to them this easy.

“Marine biology?” You stared up at Kisame. “I don’t think I would have guessed.” He let out a hearty laugh that sent a few birds flying.

“Oh yeah, they have us go out of labs for the whole day. And when I say the whole day, I mean the whole day. I’ve always loved the ocean, but I think I’d have to transfer if I had to wake up at seven and come back at eight for more than one day a week.” Kisame reached for the handle, only for it not to budge in his grip. He tried again.

“Are they closed?” you asked, getting slightly agitated at the prospect.

“No.” Shino cupped his hands around his eyes as he stared through the window. “Wet floor signs are out. This must be the time that they clean the dining room.” Shino hardly had to finish his sentence before Kisame was already on his way to the drive thru.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Temari yelled after him as she jogged to catch up. “You can’t just walk through the drive thru.”

“Sure you can.” Kisame stood directly in front of the speaker with his hands in his pockets. “There are no cars around and even if there were, they’d have to take our order to get us out of the way… Hello?” The speaker crackled and Kisame shot a pointed look at the rest of you before moting for you to come closer to order.

“What can I get you?” the apathetic worker droned.

“Can I get a number nine?” Kisame started.

“Oh me too,” you whispered to him, not entirely sure why you spoke with such a hushed tone. He crossed his arms with a smirk.

“Make that two number nines? One large—” He stepped back to let Temari come up to the speaker.

“May I please get a number six with extra sauce, please? And, uh, a number seven too, please.” Like Kisame before her, Temari stepped to allow Shino to talk.

“Two number forty-fives, one with cheese and a large soda.”

With nowhere else to sit, you claimed a spot in the empty parking lot. Temari ended up paying. You put up a fight, but she insisted. You were secretly convinced that she was loaded anyway.

“You two got a lot of food.” Kisame handed you your fillet burger. Temari hummed, taking one of her backs and folded it behind her.

“One’s for my boyfriend,” she said, and before Kisame could get out a snarky comment about how Temari could ever land a boyfriend, Shino answered,

“I just usually eat all at once. Can’t usually grab dinner while doing night labs.” You all grimaced to yourselves. You knew the feeling of skipping meals because of your schedules.

You looked out at the city. Your school sat on a hill just outside of the twinkling lights. You found comfort in the blinking that came from below and your surroundings made the atmosphere feel completely still.

“You know, if we have a choice, we should just stick together for the rest of the semester.” Shino’s monotone voice cut through the air. You turned to the rest of them. Temari shrugged.

“It’s less of a gamble since we know each other, I suppose. I know that most of you won’t mess up our assignments…” You and Kisame nodded along, both stuffing your faces with french fries.

The decision was unanimous.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes:

Shino’s lab coat was in with his regular supplies which is technically a hazard when working in chem and bio labs since lab coats should be sealed.

Not all fast-food places well take your order without a car, but if you block the line they’ll give in (that’s what I did). Don’t blame me if you get arrested for doing that though.

"I'll have two number 9s, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45s, one with cheese, and a large soda."– Melvin "Big Smoke" Harris

122 notes · View notes

zepskies · 10 months ago

Text

Aw thank you so much, Wayne! I'm very excited to see what you thought...

One thing I absolutely adore about Firefighter AUs is that the firehouse is always a second (or even first) home and they are all a big family. And you captured that whole flair so perfectly in the way they all joke with each other. I laughed out loud several times during this chapter! ❤️‍🔥

That's exactly what I was trying to capture here, thank you!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 I drew heavily from my love of Chicago Fire and other Dick Wolf procedurals (i.e. Law & Order, Chicago Med, etc.) to create the atmosphere here. I'm also so glad you enjoyed the lighter moments. Sometimes I wonder if things I think are funny will be funny to anyone else. 😂😂

First of, the whole “soil water” and tea discussion was so random and so amazing! Especially, Benny’s “that ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son” got me 😂

Lmfaoooo okay I love that you shouted this out, because this came from a convo I had with my dad about coffee and the shittiness of Folgers. As a Cuban/mixed Latina, I fucking LOVE coffee (but I love tea as well). ☕

And then, as expected, poor Y/N walks in with the best intentions and it’s super awkward with everyone staring and listening in. And boy, she really does love to bake! I figured she go simple with chocolate chip cookies, considering she has a demanding job, too, ya know? But girlfriend went aaaaall out. She’s a true Girl Scout 👀👏

Oooh this was intentional -- you'll see why she's such an intense baker. (And it was awk as hell, wasn't it? lol She did her best to push through.)

“Call me Dean, baby girl” – I gasped and snorted 🤣 Meg’s my favorite so far. Loved the whole teasing! Of course they’d do that lol

LOL Meg was so fun to play with in this story. It was my first time really writing her, but I just love her vibe. (Though you might not like her so much in a future chapter coming up...)

And I must have watched too much This Is Us because I read Gordon’s “introduce her to a brother” in full Randall nerd voice instead of creepy Gordon voice 😂

Ooooh I still need to see This Is Us, but I've heard it's fantastic!! Though you might have mixed feelings about Gordon in this story. 😅

And oh my God! There is indeed MURDER! YAY! I’m legit so excited about this. I love a good murder mystery. God knows I watch too many true crime docs and cop shows 😆 Also love that John is a detective and Cas is his partner. What an odd pairing that surely leads to a lot of fun interactions 👏 Also love how you tied the murders in with canon! So clever! Now watch me guess who the murderer is for the next fifteen parts like a game of Clue 🔍🤓

Girl SAME. I grew up on L&O and other procedurals. It's part of the reason I couldn't not make Sam an ADA in this story.

And ikr, John and Cas are an odd pairing, but it was an idea that just sort of clicked in my mind, as well as trying to tie in some canon storyline into the murder mystery to provide a main drive for John. Thank you! Lol ah-la Clue, all I'll say is, it might not be who you expect...

The sheer anger I felt when that “subhuman Neanderthal” opened his trash can of a mouth… My whole body tensed! Can we please murder him? Please, please, please! God, I hope that ape becomes the next victim of our serial killer 🔪💀

LOL I don't blame you for wanting to throw feces at Nick. He's worse than pond scum. 🤢🤮 And unfortunately, he's gonna be around for a while as a main antagonist. But you'll eventually see what his ultimate fate is...

But then came thankfully my second favorite part of this chapter, which was some good ol’ Winchester brothers bickering and some more teasing of Dean. Again, Benny killed me with his “Clap” comment omfg 🤣🤣🤣 What the hell, Dean? Carpet burn?! Get your shit together, man 😂

Lmfaoo I'm so glad you enjoyed that scene -- it was probably my favorite to write, besides Dean meeting her again at the firehouse. And oh, Dean is ridiculous for sure. He's been a special brand of "hit and run" guy up until now, though you'll also see how he tries to do better going forward. 😂😂

Though totally agree, hitting on someone in front of Jo isn't classy. He's honestly so lucky the reader has no idea he used to date her. 🙄 Fucking men indeed. Thought she really has no idea what she's getting into with Dean, or even he with her. 😂 It's gonna be a bit of a roller coaster with these two.

Again, thank you so much for your lovely review of this chapter!! I'm so excited for you to see what's coming up! 💕💕

Smoke Eater - Part 2

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: I was overwhelmed by the response on Part 1 (in the BEST way). 🥹 Thank you so much for everyone who read and sent me your lovely amazing comments! Here's Part 2 a bit early for ya. 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: Idiots flirting, with a side of sexual harassment. 😪

Part 2: "Lieutenant Winchester"

Firehouse 25 was just as much a house as it was a home.

Especially for Dean Winchester.

In the common room, he sat down at his preferred corner of the sofa with a cup of coffee. By now, the guys knew this was his spot, perfectly angled toward the new flatscreen TV someone donated last month.

Up until then, they’d had to hotwire the same tank from 1995, which had only got basic cable. Now at least the newer smart TV came with a subscription to Netflix, courtesy of the donor.

Dean raised his favorite Batman mug to his face, expecting to imbibe some rich dark roast. What he got was a travesty.

Spitting out the brown soil water back into the mug, he coughed and grimaced.

“Jack!” he called out.

Jack Kline, the newest addition to the house, raised his head from where he was trying to scramble eggs in the open kitchen directly behind the couch.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he replied.

“Why does this coffee taste like ass?” Dean asked. His voice was still gruff with sleep, as he depended on his morning coffee to wake him up, not assault his tongue.

Behind him, Jack blinked in confusion. “Uh…”

Dean finally turned around and gave the younger man a raised brow.

“What brand did you buy, Candidate?” he asked.

A candidate was a freshly graduated firefighter on probation. They were the rookie, the bottom rung of the totem pole, and Jack was that proverbial whipping post.

“Um…” Jack went to find the coffee canister he’d put away in the cupboards. He showed Dean the red plastic jug. “Folgers. It was on sale.”

“Fuck me,” Dean muttered. “Never Folgers, Candidate. Anything but fucking Folgers. The one thing we don’t skimp out on is quality joe.”

“That ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son,” Benny remarked, as he and Gordon entered the common room. Benny held a to-go mug he’d brought from home. After he’d seen what Jack brought for groceries yesterday, he’d taken no chances.

“What you wanna get is Gevalia,” Benny added.

“That European crap?” said Gordon. He took his usual spot at the dining table, leaning back in his chair. It left Benny to sit at the other end of the couch with Dean.

“Better than that piss water you drink,” Benny said with a smirk. Gordon raised a brow at him.

“Tea is medicinal, jackass.” The Black man raised a finger to punctuate his point. “It’s good for you. Unlike that carburetor fluid y’all drink.”

“Whatever, man,” Dean said, even though a grin edged at his lips. “All I know is, we need premium coffee, stat. Or it’s gonna be a cranky shift.”

“I can go to the store real quick,” Jack offered.

Say what you want about the kid’s poor taste in grocery buying, he was always willing to jump in when you needed him.

“Nah, stay on breakfast,” said Dean. “I’ll go afterwards. But remember, today you’re practicing rappelling drills.”

Jack nodded. “And lunch duty. And helping clean the truck, and all the bathrooms…did I miss anything?”

Dean shared a look with Gordon. Not only did he drive the truck, but he was one of the men Dean relied on most, as he had the next highest seniority on the job out of the whole firehouse.

Well, except for Benny Lafitte, Captain of the Rescue Squad. Squad members were considered specialists in complex rescue situations. They were highly trained on more sophisticated technical rescue equipment and rappelling, even scuba diving.

It took long years for a firefighter to make it onto Squad; something that Dean used to have ambitions for. But ever since he got promoted to Lieutenant on Truck 79, he realized that his role in this house was best served on the Truck, not on Squad.

“If he gets through all that, Meg might have something for him too,” Gordon said.

“Oh, don’t bring me into this,” remarked a droll voice. “I’ve already got one pound puppy to look after.”

Their Paramedic in Charge strode in with Chuck on her heels. They’d just pulled into the firehouse driveway on Ambulance 7.

“Nice. That’s how you talk about your partner of three years?” Chuck said with a frown. Meg turned to him with a wry grin.

“Only the ones who can hack it on my Ambo,” she replied. “What can I say. You’re special, Shurley. Either that, or a glutton for punishment.”

Gordon shook his head and looked over at Jack.

“Careful with that one. She chewed and hacked out her last partner in under a month.”

“Poor guy didn’t even transfer,” Dean added, making a “flatlining” motion with his hand. “He just quit. Dropped out of the Fire Academy that same day.”

Not all firefighters were made through Meg’s department, but it was a common route, working as a paramedic while getting put through your paces in the Fire Academy. Dean himself had gone straight to the Academy after getting his EMT certification.

But at Dean’s words, Jack’s eyes widened a fraction. Meg turned to him with an almost feline smile.

“How was the call?” Benny asked her, speaking of the job they’d just returned from. Meg’s expression dimmed a little, as did Chuck’s as they both sat down at the table.

“Ah, just Henry again,” she said. “Overdosed on his insulin.”

Benny frowned, while Dean shook his head. Jack’s brows furrowed.

“Who’s Henry?” he asked.

Meg sat back in her chair with a subtle sigh. Knowing his work partner’s mood, Chuck answered the young man’s question.

“He’s homeless, lives by the river,” he said. “He’s one of our ‘regulars,’ you could say. When we get the call, usually he’s passed out. Dehydration. But sometimes it’s more serious.”

“You can’t take him to the hospital?” Jack asked in concern.

“Today we did,” Meg said. Her brown eyes met Jack’s, her mouth in a thin line. “But without health insurance, there’s only so much they can do after they get him stable.”

That fell a bit heavily into the room. It wasn’t a pleasant fact, but it was the reality. Jack was learning more and more about that aspect of this job, and learning if he could handle the darker shades of what it could bring.

“Well, breakfast is ready,” he said, bringing a large plate of eggs and toast onto the counter. Dean tossed him an appreciative half-smile and got up from the couch.

“Thanks, kid,” he said, walking over along with everyone else. He took a moment to pat Jack on the shoulder.

“What do you want to do first: run drills, or help me and Gordon wash the truck?” Dean asked.

Jack looked up with a smile. “Can we run drills first?”

Dean nodded, grinning back at him. “Good answer.”

The rest of the Truck and Squad crews ambled in at both the announcement and the smell of food. And before long, the common room was filled with conversation, good-natured teasing, and shitty coffee all around.

From his vantage point facing the open door to the driveway, Benny caught sight of a young woman heading towards the double doors with a large tupperware bin in hand. Bonnie the receptionist happened to be coming in at the same time. You asked her a question Benny couldn’t quite hear.

“Dean… Oh, you’re looking for Lieutenant Winchester?” Bonnie asked. Her voice tended to carry. “Right in there, hun.”

“Well, that sure is interesting,” Benny murmured with a smile. He glanced over slyly at his friend. “Heads up, brother.”

Dean looked up from his plate of eggs expectantly. Benny gestured over with his eyes, just as you walked into the firehouse, both cautious and unsure of where you were going.

Dean’s brows raised. He found himself setting down his plate and getting up from the couch before he really knew what he was doing.

You looked exactly how he remembered. Though this time, you weren’t coffee stained in your professional blouse and black pencil skirt. His attention drew briefly downwards to your heels, this time solid black (and even taller than the last pair, damn).

He noticed all the same things he had last time: the shade of your hair, pinned up again with a clip as stray pieces framed your face. The way you carried yourself when you finally saw him, straightening with a subtle confidence in your shoulders, even though you looked a bit nervous. And the pretty curve of your lips when your eyes found his.

“Hey, there,” Dean said. He gave you one of his trademark smiles. “Good to see you again.”

“Uh, hi,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you remember me.”

Dean nodded. “‘Course I do. What can I do for you?”

Your face seemed to freeze up a bit as you looked up at him.

“Oh, um, nothing really. I just wanted to say thank you, again,” you said. And you glanced past him, where the rest of the firehouse members were discreetly watching. “All of you, actually. And my friend told me that firefighters really like food…but, I mean, doesn’t everyone?”

You laughed a little, in a nervous way that made Dean struggle not to smile too much.

“Anyway, I like to bake,” you twittered on, “and I had some time this week after…well, you know what happened. So…I brought this!”

You raised up your tupperware with a smile.

And you were damn adorable, Dean thought. His own smile deepened as he glanced down at the offering, then at you. He took the container and opened the lid, and was honestly surprised at what he saw.

He could’ve sworn these were Bonafede, just-poured-out-of-the-box Girl Scout cookies. Dozens of them. He saw shortbreads (complete with the little wavy lines), Samoa cookies with the coconut flakes, and even what looked like chocolate covered Thin Mints. They also smelled delicious.

“Wow. Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, with genuine warmth. “I’m pretty sure the guys are gonna tear these apart the second I put ‘em down.”

Your face brightened, and Dean noticed how it reached your eyes with a bit of a blush.

“Well, I hope you guys enjoy,” you said. Your hands fiddled with your purse next.

“Heading off to work now?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, with a certain glint in your eye. “I plan on taking the stairs this time.”

Dean raised a brow. “All 22 floors?”

“Gotta get my steps in somehow,” you joked. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to become a repeat offender, make you guys come all the way back across town again.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t mind,” he said, meeting your eyes. And he found that he meant it. In fact, he didn’t think he’d mind if your building’s elevator broke down every damn week.

Your expression shifted towards amusement. “Well, you must be very dedicated to your job.”

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you. He had half a mind to heed his instincts, to take advantage of the signals he thought you were sending him, and ask if he could take you out sometime.

But it was unprofessional here at the firehouse (not that that had stopped him before). He’d been making efforts to curb that kind of behavior for the past few months.

He also remembered the 30 floors of your massive, fancy office building. He considered the price tags that probably came with the admittedly sexy, high-powered corporate look you had going on. Those were probably a lot more zeros than he was used to seeing on his paycheck.

So for once, he didn’t pull the trigger.

“Well, thanks. I really do appreciate that,” Dean replied. His smile then was more sincere, if also more professional. He gestured at the container in his hand. “And on behalf of all the guys, thanks for this too.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “I have to go, but…thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester.”

“Ah,” he shook his head, “just call me Dean.”

You agreed by smiling, just a little bit more.

“Dean.”

He nodded back, sending you off with a smile of his own. He forced himself to taper it down after you left, and he had to turn around to meet his friends. Their grins reminded him of piranhas.

“All right. Out with it, you freakin’ jackals.” He waved his free hand in a “bring it on” gesture.

Meg was the first one to burst out laughing. It spearheaded the rest of them, whooping and catcalling and generally being menaces. Even Jack was grinning at his lieutenant’s expense.

Meg got up from her seat and bumped Dean’s shoulder on her way to the kitchen, where she dumped her dishes.

“Thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester,” she mocked in a saccharine sweet voice. Then she lowered it into an exaggerated mimic of his deeper one, “Call me Dean, baby girl. Fucking priceless. You should get your own Hallmark movie.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He’d been prepared for this, but his face was still getting warm.

“Shut up, Meg,” he tossed back. They all had an ongoing Family Guy joke that never failed to make their PIC narrow her eyes. And she did so now, giving him a fake grimace as she left the kitchen.

“All right, kiddos. If you need me, don’t,” she said. “Chuck! Let’s sort the ambo’s inventory.”

“Got it,” her partner nodded. He too got up and placed his dishes in the sink before he took off after Meg.

This left Dean with the rest of the guys, who still gave him knowing smiles as he set your bin of cookies down on the table. He blew out a breath before he returned to the couch and sat down heavily across from Benny and Gordon.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Dean Winchester bitched out,” Gordon remarked.

Once again, Dean rolled his eyes.

“Truly incredible,” Benny added. He shook his head when Dean just crossed his arms. “She was eying you like a pork cutlet, and you just let her walk outta here.”

“We’re in the house, guys. What was I supposed to do?” Dean groused.

Benny and Gordon looked at him like he’d just denounced Led Zeppelin (his favorite band of all time).

“Get her goddamn number, Winchester,” said Gordon. The man’s lips curved. “Or at least, introduce her to a brother.”

Dean shot him a glance. Gordon Walker was damn good at driving the truck, but he was also known for being a hunter of the ladies himself.

“She seemed nice,” Jack put his two cents in with a smile. He was standing behind the couch, leaning his elbows on it. Gordon scoffed, nodding his agreement.

“Yeah, with a fat ass too,” he said, sipping his tea.

Benny reached over and hit his shoulder to shut him up.

“That’s a lady, Gordon,” he said. Though a suspect smile graced his lips as he glanced at Dean. “A lady with a nice ass.”

Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t disagree. The first time he met you, he’d been impressed by the way you stood your ground with your asshole boss. Dean thought you were going to chuck that lethal looking heel at the guy. But behind that steely exterior was a kind little softie.

Today, he got your sweet side. It was equal parts sexy and adorable.

And damn if you didn’t have a nice ass, nice curves, and a nice mouth.

But your eyes, he thought. Those were nothing short of beautiful.

About twenty minutes across town, an apartment building was swarmed by police cars. One unit in particular was sealed off with yellow caution tape as a team of officers drifted in and out.

What a fucked way to die.

Detective John Winchester observed the unnatural angle that the victim—Jerry Stillwell, a certified public accountant—had his throat cut with a jagged weapon.

It hadn’t been clean in the least. And he’d bled out across his work desk and a stack of papers, as well as his desktop computer. He was 45, unmarried, and murdered in his own home in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

The computer wouldn’t turn on, and not because of the blood. It had been wiped with magnetized technology, most likely by the intruder. Though there was no sign of forced entry, according to John’s partner. The murder weapon was missing as well, though it looked like a knife wound.

John leaned over the on-site medical examiner’s shoulder to peer closer at the man’s wounds. Stillwell had most likely been grabbed from behind. So far, the signs pointed to the culprit being someone the victim knew.

They probably took Stillwell by surprise, but he was a large man. If John had to guess, over 250 pounds, unathletic, but still, not easy to overpower. Likely the suspect was a man over 6 feet; strong, and efficient. Though the messiness of the kill made John think this guy took "pride" his work, so to speak.

“Signs of struggle,” said the M.E. “Skin under the fingernails. He fought back, and…huh.”

John’s interest piqued at the man’s shift in tone. “What?”

“Take a look at this.” The M.E. was holding Stillwell’s right hand, palm-up, revealing a small burn on the inside of the wrist. John’s gaze sharpened on the mark.

“Cas, come here,” he said. Across the room, Detective Cas Novak paused in his task of examining the entry points of the apartment to join John at his side. His blue eyes widened a fraction at seeing the burn. It was a symbol of a snake eating its own tail.

“That makes four,” Cas said.

“Yep. We’ve got ourselves a murder cluster,” John said. Cas nodded. He beckoned John to the side, making sure the M.E. was out of earshot before he spoke. “Isn’t it time we brought Sam up to speed on this, at least?”

John’s brows furrowed.

“No,” he said. “Sam’s an ADA. We don’t go to him until we have someone to indict.”

He walked away from Cas, who frowned. John knew damn well that wasn’t what he meant. This was the fourth murder within six months of this nature. The fourth to be branded with the mark of Azazel…a criminal who supposedly disappeared decades ago.

Shortly after November 2, 1983, the day of Mary Winchester’s death.

Seeing Dean again had gone better than you thought it would. It left you feeling light and downright cheerful when you left the firehouse this morning. Unfortunately, the great start to your morning only crumbled when you reached your office.

Now, even at the end of your day, finally back at home and in the familiarity of your kitchen, the tension headache was back.

“Dre, I’m tired. Can’t we do this another night?” you asked.

Your cell phone was balanced between your ear and your shoulder as you counted out your grandfather’s pills, and placed them in each “Monday through Sunday” box in the blue container.

“No, we absolutely cannot. Because today was horrific,” Andréa said. “For me, because my coworker decided to play hookie on the day our top account needed the mockups of their new website. Never mind that she hadn’t even started.”

Pause for an aggravated breath, through which you frowned in sympathy. She’d told you the entire story over lunch today.

“And for you, because Nick once again displayed why he’s a subhuman neanderthal, in spectacular fashion,” she added.

Your grimace deepened at the reminder.

Earlier today, just before a sales meeting you were set to lead, you’d turned away from the conference table to set up the projector. Nick was early for once, making it just him and you in the room.

He’d sat back in his chair and uttered a remark that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“I’ll tell you what, babe. You sure know how to wear a skirt.”

Your back straightened, and slowly you turned. Your face was set in stone, save for a solitary raise of your brow.

“Excuse me?”

Nick’s smirk was lazy as he kicked his feet up on the table. His hand held a tumbler of whiskey. You noted the half empty carafe, which just yesterday had been full and untouched.

“Fucking fantastic legs,” he said, vaguely outlining your shape with his hand. “I applaud you. It’s all very…sexy secretary. Oooh! Sexcretary. Fucking brilliant.”

You gaped, trying to put a clamp on the furious spike in your blood.

“Are you drunk?” you asked incredulously.

He raised his fingers an inch or so apart, scrunching up his face and trying not to laugh.

“Actually nah, not at all,” he bluffed.

He let his hand fall back into his lap. You shook your head and set down your papers in order to cross your arms.

“Good. Then you’ll hear me clearly when I say, I’m filing a formal complaint with Billie in HR,” you said.

“Whaaat? Why?” he complained. You huffed incredulously.

“For your little comments, which are getting more and more heinous. Not to mention your excessive drinking during company hours.”

Nick pursed his lips. “Christ on a stick. Can’t you take a fucking compliment?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “What I refuse to take is any further sexual harassment. This isn’t the first incident I could disclose, but I’m damn sure you’ll want it to be the last.”

He kicked his feet off the table and slowly stood. You didn’t want to be afraid of this sloppy, frat boy drunken attitude, but a tendril of trepidation still laced down your spine as you took a step back.

“You could do that,” he nodded, tilting his head. “Or, I’ll give your Zimmerman account to Josh, along with your commission.”

You frowned, and shock made your entire body tense.

“You…you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. Your insides fairly shook with frustration tinged with anger. “I’ll sue you.”

“With what money?” Nick scoffed.

Your brows knitted together then. How the hell would he know anything about your finances?

The man noted your reaction with a nod.

“Yeah, I know all about grammy and gramps. Surgeries, funerals, treatments…” he said. He leaned against the table with one hand, and still he fairly loomed over you.

He wasn't as broad as someone like Dean, but he was tall and lean. His dirty blonde hair was swept to the side, his blue eyes bearing down on you.

“I am this company. If you don’t like it, you can get the fuck out, sweetheart,” he said.

His gaze lowered, roaming your glowering face.

“And good luck getting anywhere else without a reference from one of the biggest corporations in Lawrence, Kansas.”

You sighed. Yeah, you might’ve shed some frankly embarrassing tears in the women’s bathroom after that. You hadn’t even told Andréa the full story, which included the details of his comments, along with his threats.

You didn’t want her to worry. And maybe, more selfishly, you were embarrassed at having to deal with it at all.

Truth be told, you still didn’t know what the hell you were going to do. About Nick, or your job…but somehow, getting drunk at a bar seemed about the last thing you should be doing.

“I need a drink,” Andréa insisted. “Which means you definitely need a drink. And I know exactly where we’re going.”

After a long moment, you leaned your elbows on the kitchen counter and rubbed through the persistent ache in your forehead. Maybe, just this once, you deserved to forget about reality. Just for a little while.

“Fine. Where?” you asked.

“It’s this great bar Meg told me about. The Roadhouse.”

“Ah, the usual suspects,” Ellen drawled at the men who managed to find seats at her bar, next to the rest of their party. The Roadhouse was packed on a Friday night, but she always had room for these two.

Benny and Dean wore similar tired, but pleasant smiles as they greeted their esteemed barkeep.

“What’s it been, Ellen, a whole shift since I’ve seen your delightful face?” Dean said.

Ellen gave him a mocking smile as she poured him his favorite beer on tap. Dean grinned and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder as he sat down. He and Cas had been waiting for a little while.

…Well, maybe longer than a little.

“Hey, dude,” Dean said. Sam perked up from his second beer with pursed lips.

“You know we’ve been waiting on you for like an hour, right?” he said.

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy,” Dean teased. He nodded his thanks at Ellen when she set his beer in front of him, and a glass of whiskey for Benny. “We had a last-minute call. Some guy just couldn’t wait to start his Happy Hour. Drove his car into the company fountain.”

Sam’s brows raised incredulously. He looked over at Benny for confirmation, and the other man gave a resigned nod.

“Apparently it set the ducks into a tizzy,” he said. “The guy’s fine. Probably gonna get slapped with a DUI.”

Dean smirked and raised a finger at both Sam and Cas. “Duck Guy’s your problem now.”

Cas shook his head and raised his beer to his lips.

“Not my department.”

“Mine either,” Sam scoffed. Both of them worked in homicide cases, just from the differing sides of law and order. In fact, they worked together more often than Dean and Cas did.

Dean looked over at his friend Cas for a moment. He looked like more of a hot mess than usual, with his tie half undone, and a scruffy half-beard covering his face.

“Geez, man. You look like shit,” Dean remarked. “You and Meg fighting again?”

“No,” Cas replied, his brows furrowing. “…Well, yes. But nothing more than her usual insanity. Something about the cat preferring to sleep next to me than to her.”

“Well, that’s not so bad,” Benny said. “My dog don’t like her either.”

“Maybe they can smell that she’s feral,” Dean quipped. Cas sent him a dry look at that.

“She threatened to move out,” he revealed. “Even packed a bag at 3:00 in the morning. I spent two hours unpacking what she was re-packing, all while we argued in our underwear, not sleeping.”

Sam and Dean shared bemused looks, while Benny shook his head into his whiskey.

“So how’d it end up?” Sam asked. Cas sighed and took another long sip of his beer.

“Like it always ends, Sam,” he said, his lips quirking. “With our neighbors calling the precinct to complain, and me, somehow ending up sleeping on the couch for a crime I didn’t commit. If she wants to blame someone, blame the goddamn cat.”

Dean chortled. He brought his beer to his lips, but couldn’t resist a light jab at his best friend first.

“Dude, I love her like a sister, but your girlfriend’s unhinged,” he said.

Cas could only nod. “Most are, I’ve come to find.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head. “Not mine.”

“Yeah, that’s because Eileen doesn’t have to see you more than two minutes at a time,” Dean teased. He and his brother still shared an apartment, and Sam’s job as an Assistant District Attorney wrought demanding hours.

Sam shot his brother a flat look.

“Oh, I’m not taking that from the serial playboy,” he said.

Dean’s brows knitted together.

“All right, calm down,” he said. “I’m not Hugh Hefner.”

“Mr. Hit and Run,” Cas added, a smirk gracing his features.

“Chief ‘No Daddy Issues,’” Benny tipped in, giving his annoyed, green-eyed friend a sly glance. “With a side helping of the Clap.”

Dean’s lips pressed into a line. He leveled a finger at Benny.

“That girl was clean, okay? False alarm,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward as he sipped his beer. Thank Christ for that one. “The rash was just carpet burn.”

Sam shook his head and turned to his brother more seriously.

“Bottom line: until you date a woman for more than two weeks—hell, two days at a time—you don’t get to comment on the happily committed,” he said.

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew his track record with relationships. As in, he didn’t really have a record…but it wasn’t for lack of trying. At least, not for the past few months.

Sam managed to break Dean out of his thoughts by clearing his throat, pushing his empty bottle across the counter.

“All right, speaking of. I gotta go,” he said.

“Aw, why? We just got here. Let me buy you another,” Dean offered.

Sam shot his brother another knowing look. Dean knew it well; it said, if he’d been here on time, they would’ve shared the first two drinks.

“I’m picking up Eileen,” Sam said, grabbing his blazer and fixing the collar when he put it on. “There’s this Latin club she wants to go to.”

Dean raised incredulous brows.

“My brother’s going salsa dancing?”

Sam sighed in exasperation, despite his smile. “Bye, Dean.”

He shot his other two friends a nod.

“See you guys.”

Cas and Benny both saw him off with a subtle raise of their drinks, while Dean just shook his head.

“All right, Samantha,” he called out. Sam didn’t bother to turn around as he raised up a choice finger behind him.

Dean snorted into his drink. “Very mature.”

Benny and Cas shared a wry look. They were relieved when Ellen’s daughter Jo came by, picking up the slack for her mom, who was serving a rowdy group of college kids at a nearby table.

“Hey, guys. Need another round?” Jo asked. She gave them all a familiar smile, but her eyes lingered on Dean. He gave her a more reserved smile back.

“Hey, Jo,” he nodded. “I uh…actually think I’m good right now.”

“Me too,” Cas said. He even stood up and grabbed his trenchcoat in similar fashion as Sam had. The two had paid for their beers before Benny and Dean even got there.

“Aw, not you too,” Dean groused.

“If I don’t make dinner, we run the risk of the apartment going up in flames,” Cas informed him. Dean could only assume he was talking about Meg. “Despite working with the Fire Department for ten years, the woman can’t manage to boil an egg without supervision.”

Jo raised a brow, but her smile was bemused as she turned to Benny. “Anything for you?”

“Nah, darlin’. I’m good,” he said. But sensing the unspoken request in her eyes when she glanced at Dean, Benny straightened and raised from his seat. “But I’ll be back. Need’a hit the head.”

Dean internally sighed as Benny left him alone at the bar. Or, well, relatively alone. Jo lingered in front of him to wash and dry out a few glasses. The air between them was stiff, and a little awkward.

Dean’s thoughts shifted back to his brother then; while he still couldn’t believe Eileen had wrangled his gangly Sasquatch of a brother into going dancing, Dean was happy for him. Truly and sincerely. Sam deserved having someone who softened him, made him break away from his endless cases and have some fun.

Dean could also admit, if only to himself, that he was maybe a little jealous. Sam had something good with his girl. Something real.

Dean had carpet burn.

“So, how’s studying going?” he asked Jo. He couldn’t stand awkward silences. “Still planning on giving your mom a heart attack when you get into the Police Academy?”

Jo’s blue eyes flicked up to his. She brushed a coil of blond hair behind her ear after she finished drying a glass, and a smile raised the corner of her lips.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I gave her something to yell about,” she quipped. “But since you asked…my exam is in three months.”

“Good,” Dean nodded. “You’ve got time. Study your ass off. Keep up the conditioning routine I gave you, and you’ll be set. Just don’t forget the strength training. Very important.”

“I got it,” she said, this time with a brighter smile. “Some old firefighter gave me some pointers.”

Dean tilted his beer at her accusingly.

“Hey, don’t pin that old shit on me yet. Benny’s got more mileage than I do…”

He considered her then, after briefly looking down at the counter.

“What?” she said.

He kept his lips tight. “Nothin’.”

“No, Dean. What?” Jo pressed. “You want to say something. Say it.”

He blew out a breath and shook his head.

“Ellen’s not the only one who’s gonna worry about you on the job, that’s all,” he said. Jo flickered at a rueful frown.

“That’s ironic,” she said. “I can handle myself, Dean. Something you so often seem to forget.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he shot back. His hand tightened around his beer.

Jo’s face fell into irritation, mostly to cover up the hurt he saw buried deep behind her eyes. She gave him some relief by glancing away from him.

“And this is why we didn’t work out,” she muttered. Sighing through her nose, her eyes met his again. “You know what I hate, more than anything? People worrying.”

Dean carded his fingers through his hair, his brows knitting together in aggravation.

“Yeah, well, maybe they have good reason to,” he said. He could’ve predicted the way she tightened up. “And if I remember right, you did your fair share of hand-wringing the next time I responded to a fire on the job.”

He knew it was a low blow. But his point was made, and he fully expected the anger in Jo’s tight frown. They’d dated for a few weeks, mostly in secret.

That had been enough for Ellen to blow her top. Not because she had anything against Dean…just his job: at the very same firehouse her late husband had once served.

So Dean had backed off. He’d ultimately felt he had to end it. And clearly, Jo still resented him for it.

Slowly, however, the fire in her eyes dimmed. Her finger tapped on her side of the bar counter.

“You think I don’t worry anymore just because we’re not together?” she asked him.

Dean didn’t have a good answer for her. So his gaze fell to his nearly empty beer.

But he was even more relieved when Benny finally got back from the bathroom, or wherever he’d fucked off to for the past few minutes.

He did seem to know that he was interrupting a rather tense moment. Seeing as neither Dean nor Jo wanted to break the silence, Benny supposed it fell on him.

He reclaimed his seat and raised a smile up at Jo.

“I think I’m ready for the next round,” he said, glancing at Dean’s soured mood. “Two whiskeys, please, Joanna.”

Jo treated Benny with a half-smile. He was the only one besides her mother who called her Joanna (and got away with it). After one last look at Dean, she reached over for the Jim Beam.

You met Andréa at the bar in your own car, just in case you needed to dip out early to check on Grandpa George. He was happy to see you going out.

“You’re pretty as a doll, sweetheart,” he’d said, patting your cheek after you kissed his goodbye.

The thought made you smile, even though you thought you were dressed casually in your dark wash jeans and blouse. When Andréa met you outside the bar, she nodded in approval.

“Good. I like the hint of sexy,” she said, plucking at the sweetheart neckline of your top. You rolled your eyes and tried to cover up the cleavage a little, but she batted at your hand.

“No, no. Leave your professionalism at work,” she said. “Tonight, you’re going to relax and have some fun.”

It was hard to think about loosening up when you were literally getting belittled and threatened at work…but you supposed she had a point. You always had to be put together. You had to be sharp, because this world wouldn’t hand you anything on a silver platter.

And not to mention, you couldn’t just think about yourself. You also had to provide and take care of your grandfather too. He was the only family you had left, and you were it for him too…

But you took in a slow, deep breath. Tonight, you could have a couple of drinks with your friend. You could just be yourself, with no responsibilities other than not getting too drunk to drive yourself home later.

So with a sigh, you smiled and linked your arm with Andréa as you headed inside the Roadhouse.

It looked kind of divey from the outside, a worn-looking brown building with a faded red sign. But inside it was all dark wood and leather barstools and rows of soft lighting overhead.

There were records displayed on the wall; Prince’s Purple Rain, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, and David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, among others. Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” played on the wall speakers.

There were several tables, both high top and regular four-seaters, as well as a long bar that spanned the far wall, where rows and rows of liquor were showcased. You followed Andréa’s lead to the bar, where you took a seat at the far end and tried to feel like you belonged here. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to a place like this.

“This is nice,” she leaned over into your ear to say. “Next time my cousin should meet us here. She’s a handful, but I think you’d like her.”

You agreed with a smile. “If she’s anything like you, I think I’m well trained to handle your brand of insanity.”

Andréa leveled you with a playfully mocking look.

“Ah, you’ve got jokes tonight. Okay.” She waved over the blonde bartender.

“Hi, ladies,” she greeted. “I’m Jo. What’re we starting off with tonight?”

Before you could order for yourself, Andréa grabbed your arm and spoke over you.

“Do you have absinthe?” she asked.

Your eyes widened. “What?! I’m not drinking that—”

“Sure do,” Jo replied in amusement.

“Great,” said Andréa. You didn’t like her sly grin. “She’ll have an Aunt Roberta. I’ll have a vodka cranberry.”

“What the hell is an Aunt Roberta?” you asked.

Jo listed the ingredients on her fingers. “A nice molotov of brandy, vodka, gin, blackberry liqueur, and of course, absinthe.”

Jesus Christ. You shot Andréa a glare, even though you were trying to dim your smile.

“Are you trying to chill me out or fucking end me?” you asked.

Andréa smirked. “Whatever it takes.”

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded your agreement. Jo’s smile remained as she went to prepare your drinks. Meanwhile, your eyes wandered as you once again took in your surroundings.

Really is a cool place, you thought. And it was busy without being overbearingly crowded. There were even a few seats between you and the rest of the patrons at the bar. Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

AN: *rubs hands together* It begins. 😏

Lol how'd you like Dean's little moment with the reader at the firehouse? Plus the introduction of the rest of our cast!

(And a possible serial killer on the loose?) Though sorry about Nick. He's a douchecanoe.

Next Time:

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said.

Keep Reading: PART 3

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #smoke eater feedback #Lieutenant Winchester

828 notes · View notes

jamiedc-they-them · 4 years ago

Text

Choices you (and us) stand by (Platonic)

Requested Imagine - An operation that brings you back home after being cleared is met by some resistance. But, your friends are there to help.

You had been in the hospital for a bit now. You had been resting, but your friends had made an effort to see you when Malivore wasn’t spitting out monsters.

You appreciate it, really. You really did like seeing your family.

Plus, you felt better with this operation. And they had supported you the whole way, even going with you when the operation came.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw Lizzie smiling at you. You ignored the slightly creepy factor, and just smiled at her, “Hey.” You greeted, voice still groggy from not fully being awake yet.

“Hey back,” She said back. You heard her happiness, and your smile grew; she was doing better, it seemed. You were happy for her, really.

And, by the shine in her eyes, you saw that her feelings for you were vice versa. She saw how much more comfortable you looked now.

“Dad and the others would’ve come. But –”

“Malivore?” You guessed, “Look, Liz. It’s cool, I get it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there. But, I needed this. I know not everyone is, but I don’t think Malivore would go that low. If they did, I know I’m happy with it.”

Lizzie nodded, but didn’t answer your guess. She just held out a hand, “Doc says it’s time to go. So, what you say, ready to go home?”

You looked at your friend, and smiled hugely this time, “Ready.” You confirmed, taking her hand.

The drive back wasn’t too long, but it was filled with idol chatter about what you had missed. It wasn’t too much, just the norm.

What you knew, and what Lizzie told you, was that Hope had redone your room for you. You knew your sister would do a lot for you, but you didn’t expect that.

“And, here we are.” Lizzie announced as she parked the car. Together you got out. And, as expected, there was your two other sisters awaiting you with a little banner in their hands.

You smiled, and the Josie used a spell to keep the banner up as they hugged you, minding to not rip any stitching.

“Wow, you look great.” Josie complimented as she pulled away from the hug.

“Yeah, you look amazing, Y/N.” Hope agreed, beaming smile on her face. It was unusual for her, but she mainly reserved it for you. And she knew this was a big moment.

“Where’s Alaric?” You asked, wondering where your father figure was.

That made the smiles dim, “What?” You asked, looking between the two. With Lizzie being next to you, you missed how she also looked between the pair in alarm.

“You didn’t sort it?” Lizzie asked through clenched teeth. When she didn’t receive an answer, she stormed inside.

“What’s going on?” You asked your two remaining friends. They shared a side glance, not sure on how to say it.

“Not…not everyone was…positive about it.” Josie said, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“…Oh.” Hope heard the voice tremble, and was quick to put a hand on your arm.

“Hey, it doesn’t reflect on all of us, ok? It’s just a minority. I’m sorry.” She said, seeing how deflated you looked.

“It’s not your fault.” You assured Hope. Both your smiles were dejected and sombre.

It was Josie who then spoke up, “Why don’t we go inside get you to your room?” She offered her arm for a loop, you obliged with the want and were on your way.

You weren’t even if it for two seconds before Lizzie barged in, a pissed off expression clear on her face.

“What is it?” You asked after a moment of silence.

“They know you got back,” At those words, Josie and Hope came to stand by you as they looked to Lizzie; their question was one you didn’t understand.

Whatever it was, Lizzie shook her head before looking at you with a smile, “I’ll be right back. Rest of the squad is looking for hobbit, but I got this. You just relax, Y/N.” Lizzie told you, before she left the room.

“Come on, sit. We’ll help you set up.” Hope said, sitting on said bed and patting the spot next to you.

You sat.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I meant what I said before, you look great.” Hope said as the three of you had moved to laying down at the top of the bed; you in the middle and two of your sisters on either side of you. They were both on their sides, facing you, with you looking up at the ceiling.

“You don’t need to keep saying that.” You laughed through your words softly. Hope’s smile grew. She was happy you were happy and allowing yourself time to recover.

“How many disagreed with it?” You asked. That created a lull in the conversation; an uncomfortable atmosphere there.

Lizzie, in any other situation, would’ve probably been more worried about how this would go. Despite the small groups, there were more of them than there was of her. But, in this moment, she didn’t care. To be honest, it went against what the school was about –

Acceptance. And they just seemed to be the anti-all of that despite their own differences.

The levels of irony was not lost on her. In fact, if anything, it was what drove her on further.

“Hey, asshats!” She called out to them. They turned, one even opened their mouths to talk.

That was quickly stopped by a quick silencing spell by Lizzie. She was talking, and they were sure as hell going to listen, “I get that you all are going through your edge grunge phase, but you do know that Y/N is an actual person, right? They chose this, and all you had to do was allow it and move on. I mean, you guys are with Josie, even if she’s just here on visit I haven’t seen one comment against her…”

“I just…I can’t describe it, but –”

“It’s euphoric?” Josie asked, your head then turned to her.

“In a way. I feel…I guess that, yeah. But, I mean, those out there…”

“Ignore them.” Hope said without missing a beat.”

“I can’t, Hope. You know how they stare and whisper. I’m not changing it back. I just…I don’t know…” You trailed off, not sure how to fully get your point across.

“You remember when you came out to mum and dad?” The question got both you and Josie sharply looking at you; it was rare for her to ever bring up your deceased parents. A sore spot for you both.

“You remember what she said?” You nodded, yet your sister continued, “’Ok, honey. I’m just glad you’re being you.’” You gulped as she then said, “And dad. God, dad was so proud, ‘I’m proud of you little one, for being true to yourself. No one can take that from you, ever.’”

“No one can or will. Not as long as we and you have someone to say about it.” Josie concluded, holding one of your hands in her own; it didn’t break you and Hope’s stare however. Josie respected that, it was a big thing to talk about your parents.

“…And I get that my dad is away, but that doesn’t mean you have to come and ruin this for my friend who has been nothing but kind to all of you. And, what? One little change and choice and suddenly they’re dead to you? This school was built for acceptance, not hatred or anarchy or rebellion.” Lizzie was just getting more and more frustrated; more and more angry; more and more defensive.

Some of the group even looked ashamed. Her words were working. They were changing their minds.

Then, some of those faces shifted again. And she turned to see what had caused it.

It was you, with Hope and Josie stood next to you as a united front.

She wasn’t done, but it seemed that the crowd she had riled up were getting antsy again.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The spell had worn off, and there were words. There were a lot of words. You had seen Lizzie hateful before, but this was something else.

You heard the words they used to almost try turn it on her, say that she was relapsing. Say that this was why, that she was losing control. They tried to make themselves the victims. They were the ones under attack, not you. Why would it be you? In their minds, as of right now, that seemed to make no sense.

They then saw Josie. They saw how she was doing better at Mystic Falls High and almost happy and content with herself. They blamed it on Josie, that the girl had someone influenced her sister into this; a kind coercion of sought. They brought up the black magic saga she had gone on. Seemed Lizzie was wrong, they hadn’t fully moved on, they just instead waited for the right time to strike with their words.

Oh, and try they did. They swore, cursed – seemed Alaric being gone for the time being really made them go more off the rails than this “protest” already was – hell, one even tried to attack Josie, had Hope not thrown him back.

Josie had backed up in fear, but also moved a bit in front of you; just in case.

Then there was Hope, the oldest of the Mikaelson siblings; the one that mirrored Klaus more and more every day more than you ever would.

They tried to provoke her. They tried to make it seem like it was her fault for your actions, as if she – like they had accused Josie of with Lizzie – swayed you into this decision. Hope knew it made no logical sense, but she was already growing more and more pissed, nails digging into her skin.

Hope knew that, if she needed another forest screaming session, this would have to wait. And there would be a lot more trees knocked down this time because of it.

Then. Then they made a mistake.

They looked at you.

They looked at you, the whole reason they had banded together.

The whole reason Lizzie had gone after them.

You.

To you, it was just noise. Your ears were ringing as you tried to remember the words Josie and Hope had given you before, along with the other affirmations your parents had given you.

Your friends had been there every step of the way. They had tried to do what they could. And now you had done and all they wanted was to help celebrate it and help you settle back into your life at the school.

Now though, now you were just being yelled at. You saw your friends look to you, and you saw the concern on their features as your eyes did fill with tears. But you also felt the hurt and pain inside, and how that morphed into two things; fight or flight.

As the leader of the group got closer to you, Hope was quick to fling him back.

As you heard what you didn’t doubt was a fight ensuing, you chose flight.

You ran into Alaric’s office, glad for once that he was gone. You didn’t need him right now. Well, you did, but –

You knew you needed what had been done. You knew it, that was why you had it done. You knew you had support and you knew that not everyone would.

You just didn’t expect it to be so…extreme.

Maybe you could transfer along with Josie, maybe there they would –

“Y/N?” A voice asked. You turned, seeing the three at the entrance to the office, Josie and Lizzie with a cut and bruise or two, but nothing major.

Still –

You sat in the chair, face in your hands. You heard feet shuffle, a chair scrape, and someone grunt a bit as they sat on a table – as you heard papers being shuffled.

You felt someone put their hands on your shoulders, trying to massage them as best as she could.

“I’m sorry.” You said in utter despair, “I didn’t mean to –”

“You didn’t cause anything. Those guys were just assholes for the sake of it.” Lizzie was blunt, and used more colourful language, but it was what you loved about her.

You felt two hands grab both of yours and hold them in the gap between you and them, “They just can’t accept it. But, we’ve got your back on this. On anything. You deserve to be and look the way you want.” That was Josie.

So that meant – “I think I speak for all of us, when I say that we’d do it again.”

“You helped me out of my subconscious, helped me find my strength. And, if I’m honest, I’m jealous, Y/N, you took a stand for what you wanted and went for it.” You opened your eyes when Josie had stopped talking, seeing her soft face and gentle smile on her lips.

You sniffled a bit, looking to Lizzie, who rolled her eyes half heartedly but nodded with a smile.

Hope then moved out in front of you, “What do you say? You ready?” She asked, holding out a hand for you.

“Ready.” You confirmed, holding her hand and leaving with your three sisters.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You got more smiles than you expected, but you smiled back as you all went back to your room. It had been a day, even before this conflict, and you definitely needed your rest now.

You all made idol chatter as you went. Most of it about the school and Malivore, but you were calmer now. You were freer with each other.

It was like nothing had changed.

However –

“There they are, Doctor Saltzman.” One of the old group said as Alaric followed her, she even pointed to you as if he needed to know for sure.

Alaric looked to you four for an explanation.

As the other three went to speak, you put your hand up. They paused, looking to you. You gave them a smile, and went over to Alaric as the three trailed behind you.

“Doctor S, I’m sorry for the fight that happened. I didn’t want it to turn into a scrap. It was just a group of people not really liking what I’d done. But, to be honest, I didn’t really see how it effects them at all. All it did is help me and do good. I don’t see the bad. But, I am sorry for the fight.” You said, as calmly as you could.

Alaric nodded, “Thank you, Y/N. There’s gonna be some cleaning needed, but we’ll figure all that out after. I’m just glad you’re ok.” He said with a smile. With that, he passed you and went to the office, with the student following, this time in a sombre way.

You looked back at the three, who all smiled at you, “Come on, let’s go back. You’ve had a long day.” Hope offered, holding out her hand.

“I’ll go get the ice-cream.” Lizzie said, Josie going with her to help with the bowls.

You took your sisters hand, going back to your room.

Sure, there would always be naysayers about your choice. But, who were they to judge? They weren’t you.

The school was built on acceptance, not hate. And you were sure Alaric was going to instil it in that student or have them leave.

But, to you, you just felt better.

You felt at home, both internally and externally.

You let out a breath of content.

#hope mikaelson imagine #hope mikaelson x reader #josie saltzman imagine #josie saltzman x reader #lizzie saltzman x reade #lizzie saltzman imagine

113 notes · View notes

whatthefuckisasweep · 3 years ago

Note

Grif

For the character ask! Sorry this took me a while, I can't copy and paste on mobile, so I waited till I got on desktop tumblr! Thank you so much for asking about him, I could go on forever lol so this is gonna be fucking LONG. Please, anyone, feel free to ask about any other character, too. These are fun.

Why I like them: Grif is, for lack of a better word, complex. On one hand, it's like, okay he's just a funny comedy character. But on the other hand, he's like every all of my favorite archetypes of a character. He's crafty but stupid, selfish but selfless, antisocial but friendly, the straight man but the dramatic guy, he's snarky but oddly caring: the reluctant hero. It's kind of paradoxical, and I feel like not only do I relate to him, but I just really enjoy him overall. Whether it's because he's a good brother, being a complete dickbag because he doesn't know how to handle emotions, being a complete cynic on the battlefield, or being hyperactive and snappy, it's just... ah. He. Everything in his life just happens, and he has to deal with it, and yeah he'll kick and pout and probably eat everything but in the end, he's gonna choose his family and he cares deeply... even when he can't really show it.

Why I don’t: I see this a lot in myself too - the fact that he's impulsive and inherently negative when he speaks specifically. his words don't match his actions. He often doesn't hesitate when it comes to making negative comments because they are easier than saying something nice, but what his intentions are are completely different. in other words, he's a jerk, lol. Especially in season 15. I know people felt bad for him because he was partially right and went insane on Iris, but he lowkey deserved it. He said he hated his friends, and even his closest friend. He didn't want to admit that he was a good person just because he didn't want to help. yeah, it was valid, but he needs to learn how to make a case without fucking everyone emotionally and being so clammed up. >:/ sometimes it feels like he regresses in character, as much as he's matured. i guess that's realistic and just the writers making comedy, but also the way he handles Doc specifically irks me. so mean spirited for no reason, as funny as it is.

Favorite episode (scene if movie): OH MY GOD, okay, literally, every single episode with Grif starring as a main is fucking gold. I think for this I'm going to say, uh, This One Goes to Eleven. Even though it's not Grif-centric, it's the episode that's my favorite overall because it introduced me to RvB and made me like Grif right away, simply because he was attacked so much and I felt so bad for him. Another great one that sticks out right now in my sleep deprived state, is Grif does a Rescue. Augh. And the episode where Grif and Simmons get stuck underground in the caves.

Favorite season/movie: Season 8 (shotgun!!!, hyperactive ai grif), Season 11 (hanging in the canyon with simmons), Season 4 (the tank and blue simmons w/ grif), Season 5/6 (kai and rat's nest), Season 12/13 (the recruits, grif building the snowmen), Season 14 (backstory with simmons, Room Zero), Season 15 (you know why)

Favorite line: OK, don't make me choose. There are SO many that are good!!! I think one of my most favorite things that Grif says is "yoink!" It's so adorable! I also really enjoy "BLUEEE TEAAAAM SUCKKKKKS" with his epsilon double, the whole "invisible nap" scene, "what are we, on a date?"/"I can tell you what we weren't doing", "no one made me, I made me", "WERE GONNA FUCKING DIE" when charging at the meta, "that's a figure of speech?" [when carolina says im so hungry i could eat a horse is a figure of speech], "dexta grif he who shall not be messed with!"... I'm sure I'm missing a lot, he has SO many snarky funny lines, but these are some off the top of my head.

Favorite outfit: LOL THIS IS SUCH A FUNNY QUESTION BECAUSE THIS IS RVB. HAHAHA. Uh. Season 6 probably. I just like Halo 3 Graphics. Also s14 Room Zero because THEY DREW HIM FAT CANONICALLY. THANK YOU.

OTP: I'm with the majority of people in the fandom who like Grimmons! I think Grimmons is the only ship that I really vocally ship with my whole heart besides OC ships. I just very much enjoy their dynamic -- it's very angsty, dialogue full, intimate yet so unspoken. It's just a really good pair to write about and see the development of through canon. And, not to mention... season 15... hrk...

Brotp: I really REALLY want grif/tucker, grif/church, grif/locus BROTP. SO SO SO BAD. I've always seen grif and tucker as bros, grif and church are HILARIOUS together and we were ROBBED of more time together, and grif and locus are fucking adorable.

Head Canon: I have a lot of headcanons about Grif, but one of my favorite ones is that he has half-lidded eyes, like he's always sleepy. I also headcanon him as bisexual, though I think that is a popular headcanon!

Unpopular opinion: I dunno if I have super unpopular opinions about Grif... maybe that I think that his labryinth wasn't as bad as it seems at first? A lot of people seemed to think that though, yknow. Like if you look deeply into it, it's actually kinda fucked. But I feel like we should have gotten the Hawaii scene anyways. Hm. I also didn't like how they altered the canon so that Grif wasn't drafted. I think it does add something to his char that he chose to go, but I always really liked the aspect that Grif didn't control that, and yet he still did this on purpose. He was good on purpose.

A wish: A badass Grif carchase scene for the love of FUCK. We need to have him drive more stuff !!!!!!!!

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: Have him betray the reds -- i think every other red has betrayed the team at some point. please god for the love of god dont do this to grif. it really adds and says something about his character that he doesn't ever betray his team.

5 words to best describe them: (eye roll) eh. fuck it.

My nickname for them: this isn't really my nickname, since I mostly just call him grif -- but 'gif'. It's cute, and my QPP came up with it! I also really like dex. augh

#rvb #grif #dexter grif #red vs blue #ask #asks #thank you for this #sorry for the length you just gave me a place to infodump #and i really thank u for this

40 notes · View notes

a-simp-20 · 4 years ago

Note

Ok, either Kuina teaching Chishiya how to roller skate or Chishiya teaching Kuina how to roller skate 💖

Roller skating Besties [Pre-borderland AU]

[AIB Masterlist]

Characters: Chishiya Shuntaro,Kuina Hikari, Takeru Danma, Aguni Morizono, Arisu Ryohei (briefly,he's there! Just wait~)

Summary: Chishiya is at his college,studying medical health care and other med student things,Kuina came to visit him and asked him if they could hang out together.

Warning!: none

Genre: Fluff,Crack. just two besties roller skating :3

Word count: 2.1K

Tag's: @niragis-right-hand-rabbit hope you like it girl!

I'm sorry this took so long!, I had to write other fics and the request on my wattpad account 😖

It's a normal day in medical school,Chishiya is at his college's lab studying on things with the other people who are in the same class as him. This time their learning about how to: Cut open a person's chest/stomach for surgeries only 101-.

I'm serious "Now beneath this white sheet,there is a dummy that you need to cut open with this small knife here..but we're not in to that step yet,the first step is to..get use to the smell of someone's corpse...without your medical masks on" His professor said,as he take's out his hand to all of them,signaling to hand their masks over to him. Everyone reached into their pockets and took out their masks,handing them over to the professor.

"Everyone ready?" The professor asked,everyone shook their head confidently while Chishiya just smirks. The professor took off the white sheet that was covering the dummy now not covering it.The smell of a corpse was fresh coming from the dummy,everyone puked and some of them holding their breath and passing out as Chishiya closes his eyes calmly as he inhaled the scent of the corpse,smirking like the Cheshire he is "Everyone failed...except for you Chishiya,you passed..now cut it open" His professor said smirking back at him "Gladly professor~" He said,as he grabbed the knife and went to the dummy.

He stood right next to it "Where do you want me to cut it open professor?" He asked,looking at his professor "The most scent able part...the stomach" His professor replied. Chishiya nodding as he brought his left hand up to the dummy's chest as his right hand cuts open the stomach of it, the scent of the dummy's stomach now filling the air, everyone once again puked and passed out in the floor and holding their breath,Chishiya? No he inhaled the scent again "Good job Chishiya!, I'm very proud that ONE of my students will TRULY become a doctor" His professor said,mentioning to the other students who failed.

[TIMES SKIP]

It is now lunch time,Chishiya sitting in the cafeteria alone eating his vegetables...specifically peas. He got out his phone,seeing a bunch of text messages from Arisu and four from Kuina. He read through the text's that were from Arisu. Arisu was talking about a medical game that he just brought that included doctor's injecting some needles into zombies to cure them back into human, Chishiya just chuckled and went into Kuina's messages.

[QUEEN-Na]

QUEEN-Na: Hey! Hey Chishiya!,ya still in school?

QUEEN-Na: guess you are. So I was hoping maybe we could go like hang out together??,Oh! Maybe we could go to a cat Cafe.

QUEEN-Na: and after we go to the cat Cafe...wait for ittt.....WE'RE GOING ROLLER SKATING BESTIE!

Doctor Cheshire: after I finish my peas we'll go.

QUEEN-Na: HECK YEAH!,I knew it you could agree!

Doctor Cheshire: yes yes now I want to enjoy peas,thank you very much.

After the chat ended Chishiya continued to chew on his peas,while looking at the window that was beside his table where he ate..he then realized...he didn't know how to skate-.

He just shrugs the thought off of his mind as he continues to eat his peas.

[AFTER MED SCHOOL]

Chishiya waited for Kuina outside his college. Kuina told him that she's going to pick him up with her car, so he waited with his hand's inside the pockets of his white jacket that the zipper was loose and revealed his black and white striped shirt,he wore black jeans and a backpack that had cat ears on them...that was given by Kuina of course for his birthday. He heard a honk of a car. He looks up to see the girl inside the car on the right driver's seat, Chishiya smirks as he walked towards her car and got in the passenger seat that is right next to her "Welcome aboard Doctor Cheshire" Kuina said smiling at him starting the car "Thank you for welcoming me..Miss Sexy butterfly girl" Chishiya said as he turned on the radio to hear some music.

Kuina began to drive "So what did you learn this time?" "Why do you want to know?,are you my mom now?" He asked,looking at her by the corner of his eyes "As if!, she's a cruel Bish! You don't deserve to be forced to do anything ya know?"

Kuina said,keeping her eyes on the road "Yeah..we're going to the cat cafe first right?" He asked her. Kuina just smiles and nods "Yup! After that we're roller skating" She said with a wide grin on her face now. Chishiya just lay's his head back into his chair as he closed his eyes.

They both finally made it to the Cat Cafe. Kuina shaking Chishiya's body lightly "We're here doc" She said sarcastically "I can see that clearly sexy butterfly" He said, looking at the Cat Cafe through the passenger's seat window "Well,time to get out!" She said,getting out of her car. Chishiya following her as they both got into the Cat Cafe to be greeted by so many cats "Look at all these little cuties!" Kuina squealed, as she grabbed a yellow munchkin cat "Look how teensy his leggies are!!" She said, holding the cat up to Chishiya's face "Are you mocking me?" Chishiya asked "Mocking?, how am I mocking you! Look at him!!! He's so cute!!!" She chirps again.

They both finally found a place to sit and ordered their food and drinks "So Chishi, do you know how to skate?" Kuina asked him while petting the yellow munchkin cat that's on her lap "Well..for someone like me that is likely to have a GOOD childhood...no" He said stroking a cat that was laying right next to him,showing it's belly demanding belly rubs which Chishiya did do.

The cat meows and purred at his touch "True,true..Oh! Maybe I could teach you how to!?" Kuina said excitedly "Sure..i would love to" Chishiya said, as the waiter put their two puddings on the table and one iced coffee for kuina. Chishiya got himself a black coffee which he is now sipping calmly while still stroking the cat beside him.

They chatted for awhile. Saying about how their doing and how work is going for Kuina and how college was going for Chishiya "Everyone didn't like the smell of the dummy..me? I liked it. I felt really at ease when I inhaled the scent of the fake corpse-" "Now you're making me want barf.. But at least it sound cool" Kuina said cutting Chishiya's sentence while sipping at her iced coffee "How is work at the shop going for you?" "Well,customer's come by and go. Buy some clothes ask if there any available size's for it, they buy it and leave" Kuina explains, swaying her spoon while explaining "Like always then?"Chishiya asked and she nods.

After the chat, they played rock papers scissors to see who would pay for their meal. Apparently, Kuina won and Chishiya lost, but Chishiya didn't care because he is wealth of money thanks to his dad. They both got out of the Cafe and went inside Kuina's car again "Next stop!, the mall!" Kuina said starting the car "So the roller skating rink is at the mall?" Chishiya asked "Yup!, I can't find any that was close in this city and your college,only the mall" She said while driving"That sucks...i hate the mall" Chishiya replies "Why?, because you don't like people surrounding you while you're walking?" Kuina asked "More like I don't like places that are crowded by..peasants.." Chishiya continues as he had a Cheshire like smirk on his face "That's the same thing but in Chishiya language" Kuina said while chuckling.

They both made it at the mall. Kuina parks her car and gets out,Chishiya following. They got into the big building "I haven't seen the mall since...last month" Chishiya said, while looking at the ceiling of the mall "What!?,you haven't gone to the mall that much before...never mind I just remembered on what you said in the car" She said. Both of them spend their time keeping each other company, both of them walking side by side. They didn't go straight to the roller skating rink no, they stopped at a hat shop that was in the mall, checking out some of the cool hats in the shop "These are some hats" Kuina said, grabbing a top hat and putting it on Chishiya's head "You look good with a top hat Chishiya" Kuina comments "Thank you..and yes I do love top hats. I really want one ever since when I was kid..my father won't let me have on cause-" "Let's not talk about that old man of yours right now, we're here in a hat shop. You live alone in an elegant apartment by yourself, you could buy the top hat if you want to!" "And the young woman is correct!" Someone said after Kuina finished her sentence "Allow me to introduce Myself, I'm Danma Takeru..also known as Hatter and the owner of this fine shop you may say" Hatter said, grinning widely "Nice hat you got there Mister Hatter" Kuina said, pointing at his hat "Why thank you!, my father gave it to me" He replies with a smile.

The shops bell rings, revealing a tall buff man with no hair. He looks like a tired dad "Ah! Mori Chan!, welcome" Hatter greets the man "This my friend, is Aguni Morizono. He's my best friend!" Hatter explains with a grin. Chishiya and Kuina nodding "So what brings the both of you here at the mall?" Aguni asked "We're here to roller skate!,and I'm teaching this kid how to do it properly" Kuina said, mentioning to Chishiya "Well that sounds fun!, maybe we could join in? It's okay if you don't want us to be there" "Sure..as long as you don't get too close to me" Chishiya finally spoke "Great!, what do you think Aguni? Would you like to?" Aguni nods "Sure" He said.

After that the four of them said their good bye's, Hatter and Aguni said that they will catch up when their both done taking care of the shop "Those two were nice" Kuina smiles as she looks down at Chishiya that was still wearing the top hat on his head, Hatter gave it to him for free. Hatter heard Chishiya's story of life and felt horrible so he decided to just give the natural blonde headed cat a gift, which was the Top hat that he likes so much.

"Ah!, and here we are!" Kuina said. Chishiya looking up to see a sign that had roller skates on it "Let's go in" Kuina said, as she opens the door "After you" Kuina mentioning to the open door for Chishiya to enter. Chishiya did enter and Kuina did the same.

The room inside was filled with neon lights and...peasants Chishiya say's. Everyone was on the rink, laughing and having fun "Doesn't this look great?" Kuina looking down at Chishiya that had a disgusted look on his face "Look at all of these peasants" Chishiya say's pointing at one of them "C'mon now, don't get your Cat attitude out!, let's go" Kuina grabbed Chishiya's hand and dragged him to the main counter.

They both got in the locker room to pick out their roller skates that were their foot size "Chishiya!,look at this one!" Kuina said excitedly. Chishiya looks at her and saw that she's holding two pair of roller skates that is black and had cat faces all over it "Huh..interesting" Chishiya said, while grabbing the roller skates that Kuina held "I knew it you would like them" Kuina grins as she grabbed a pair of blue roller skates that had white and yellow and pink flowers on them. They both put on their roller skates as they walked to the rink.

Kuina holding Chishiya's hand, guiding him to the rink. They both stepped in, Chishiya wobbling a bit "Keep your balance, it's okay. I told you I'll teach you right?" Kuina grabbed Chishiya's hand as she started to move. She let's go Chishiya's hand,leaving Chishiya at his will "okay, the first thing you have to do is walking. Just like normal" Chishiya took Kuina's advice and started taking little steps "Like this?" "Yes!, keep going...aaaand stop. Okay the next step is to balance yourself, don't panic and stay completely calm" Chishiya stayed still, balancing himself "Good! Just like that, now push your upper body to the front while lifting up your right feet and dragging it" Chishiya then did exactly that...and he did it "I- I can't believe I'm roller skating" He said, skating across the rink until he fell on his butt. Kuina trying so badly to hold her laughter as she went towards him to help him get up to his feet.

Chishiya grabbing his top hat and cleaned the dust out of it as he put's it on top of his head again "I hate this." Chishiya mumbles as he stood up again "Oh come on!, you just fell like..once" Kuina crossing her arms, looking down at the short blonde figure that was wearing a top head "Fine..i'll try again" He grumbles, Kuina smiling widely while cheering "Heck yeah!" She said as they both continued skating.

The end-

[Meanwhile Hatter and Aguni]

The two men are now skating happily together with happy faces "Isn't this fun Mori?" Hatter said, smiling at his friend that is skating behind him "Quiet so" "Oh come on!, I don't see a smile on your face" Hatter said pointing at Aguni's emotionless face "No..i am happy..this is my happy face" He said "Well whatever you say" After that Hatter didn't looked where he was going and bumped into a ln angry Chishiya.

The end~

#alice in borderland #aib #aib fanfic #imawa no kuni no alice #chishiya shuntaro #kuina hikari #Hatter #danma takeru #aguni morizono #niragis right hand rabbit #ask

36 notes · View notes

transsergio · 4 years ago

Note

154 ("Are you sure you two aren't married?") with Moreid !

this is an ask i asked myself (ashdsd) a month ago and i’ve had the draft sitting in my docs for that long it’s driving me nuts just t a k e i t (ROUGH EDITING WARNING)

1.5k words, Moreid, rated G for God Why Can’t I Finish Anything

The case was over. At least, in terms of the unsub. In terms of their trip home, they were yet to leave LA. The rest of the team were on their way to the airport, but Morgan demanded a detour.

“We’re going to make everyone wait,” Spencer complained.

Morgan shrugged, casually parallel parking their hulking SUV. He leaned over the center console and pointed at the coffee shop wedged into the street corner. “The team will be fine. I need whatever they’re selling if you want to make it to the jet in one piece.”

Spencer sighed but gathered his shoulder bag in his lap. If nothing else, he really didn’t want to spend any more time in the California heat. How many cases did they really need in the dead of summer? Spencer knew the statistic, but it didn’t make the temperature bearable.

Before Spencer could reach for his door handle, Morgan had yanked it aside for him. He beamed down at Reid like this was some kind of victory.

“I can open my own doors,” Spencer grumbled as he scrambled from the car. Morgan scoffed behind him.

“I would also accept a ‘thank you’,” he teased.

Spencer didn’t return the favor. Instead, he strode into the coffee shop by himself and let the glass door shut behind him. He only looked over his shoulder once he’d claimed a place in line. Waiting in the Los Angeles sunshine, Morgan stood with his hands on his hips and an eyebrow raised. Spencer was sure he was glaring behind the sunglasses as he stood, statuesque, a full ten to twenty seconds before breaking down and opening the door himself. Spencer didn’t try to hide his smirk.

The line was only six or so customers long, but the room was tight. There were no tables inside, only staggered chairs to discourage patrons from sitting around and having a bite. Nonetheless, the glass case beside the register was stuffed with pastries – most of which were loaded with some kind of cream cheese. While Spencer debated going back to the car and grabbing his Lactaid, Morgan scanned for the options with the most protein.

They shuffled forward bit by bit and tried to settle their order, knowing Derek would be the one to do the talking.

“I’ve got a tall black coffee and a breakfast sandwich. You?”

“Do you think they do Frappuccinos?”

“I would say, yeah. This is LA, Reid.”

“Fair point. Alright, then an iced caramel Frappuccino and… a chocolate croissant.”

Morgan folded his arms over his chest. “Really? You’re going to put away all that dairy?”

Another customer cleared the counter and they inched closer.

“Yes, Morgan, really. I know what I’m doing.” Reid rolled his eyes.

“I know you do. But I’m the one sitting next to you in a metal tube for five hours.”

“So?” The more Morgan tried to parent him, the more defensive Spencer became. “Parent” wasn’t even the right word, but Spencer was never sure what Morgan was doing – it felt protective, but verged on condescending. And it was different when they were out in the field. Reid didn’t mind being tackled to the ground when they were suddenly under gunfire, even if he whined about grass stains later. Morgan never hit him too hard anyway. What he did mind was being thought of as a child, even if he was one comparatively.

Morgan shrugged. “Don’t come crawling to me when you’re gassy for half the flight.”

This conversation was now bordering on paternal.

Spencer kept his mouth shut as they scooted over the sticky tile floors. God, he wanted to go home. When they finally reached the register, he cringed as Derek laid his palms on the cashier’s counter. He watched Morgan mask his disgust as he slowly drew his hands back and wiped them on his pants. At least they had that much in common.

The cashier took Derek’s order and asked, “Anything else?”

Derek looked to Reid expectantly. Spencer furrowed his brown and nodded. Morgan didn’t need to double-check with him. He was an adult who’d made up his own mind, for the love of God.

Derek returned to the barista as if they were throwing caution to the wind. “And I guess, a grande caramel Frappucino with a chocolate croissant, please.”

“Iced,” Spencer mumbled, nudging Derek’s elbow.

“Sorry, an iced grande caramel Frappucino.”

The barista’s eyes flitted between the two of them, though she said nothing. She handed Derek his change and they moved to wait at the end of the counter.

“Was that so hard?” Spencer asked under his breath. He didn’t need to glance up to know Derek heard him; Derek always did, even when the team was working too fast and their voices piled on top of each other. Spencer’d have his eyes trained on some mark in the table, a wrinkle in their documents, or the only non-bloodied piece of evidence as he spoke. When he eventually made eye contact, Derek would be set on him and him only. Reid wasn’t sure if he felt like he was being watched, or paid attention.

And since Derek made no comment, he must’ve ignored him. Like he was a petulant child.

Or, he was still trying to wipe the mess from his hands.

When Spencer realized it was the latter, he dug into the outside pocket of his bag.

“Here,” he offered, taking Derek’s hand in his own. He squirted a hefty helping of hand sanitizer into Morgan’s palm and without thinking, rubbed it in himself. It was an economic decision, Spencer decided, considering he only had so much hand sanitizer. Sharing is caring, right?

Morgan kept quiet until the little bottle was tucked into Reid’s satchel again. He murmured, “Thanks.”

Spencer nodded. It was Derek’s turn to avoid eye contact. Maybe he just didn’t like the reverse; that Spencer could take care of him for a change.

“Reid? Spencer Reid, your order’s ready,” a barista called.

Spencer rolled his eyes. Of course Morgan used his name. It was a turn-taking system that allowed Spencer to speak as little as possible, but made Morgan feel like coffee was a two-person job.

At least they each carried their own drinks. As they were heading out, Morgan ahead of Spencer just to hold the door for him, the barista yelled after them.

“Mr. Reid, wait! Your husband’s food!”

Spencer whirled on his heels to see one of the staff dangling a paper bag over the edge of the counter. He stumbled towards them with intermittent glances behind to make sure Morgan didn’t follow him. God, he hoped Derek didn’t hear that. The whole jet would be in on the joke in under an hour.

Reid thanked them and took Morgan’s sandwich, all while trying to correct the mistake. “Actually, we’re just co-workers.”

The barista looked him up and down. “You sure you two aren’t married?”

“Pretty sure,” his voice cracked, “But, thanks again.”

Reid’s cheeks heated. They had to be bright red. He could hope he was as pasty as always, but he’d also need Morgan to be so hungry he didn’t notice… whatever this was. Spencer had been humiliated plenty of times in his life, and this didn’t feel like that. It wasn’t his mistake, after all. But something inside him burned.

Sure, there were indicators that they were closer than your average peers. Those same indicators popped up with everyone in the unit. It was bound to happen when you spent the majority of your time around the same six people, more-so when four of those six people were highly trained behavior analysts. But had anyone ever thought he was dating Prentiss, or engaged to Rossi? If they did, they’d never be confident enough to say it out loud.

Spencer flashed through the last twenty minutes of his life. He had never shared hand sanitizer with Prentiss, had never had Rossi care enough about his dairy intake to say something. Had never felt so over-protected and playful and embarrassed at the same time. Was that how Morgan flirted? It couldn’t be. He saw how Morgan and Penelope treated each other. It was blatant, grossly sweet, or plainly gross. But they were kidding (on some level). If Morgan was genuinely flirting, would he hide it?

He was at the car before he could come to a conclusion. Morgan swung into the driver’s seat and took his sandwich from Spencer’s limp hands.

“Reid. Kid. What’s going on?”

“What?” Spencer asked. He turned to Morgan. Derek’s sunglasses sat lower on his nose now. His brow was creased and he held Spencer at eye contact-gun point.

“What’d the barista say in there? Looked like you were talking.”

“Oh,” Spencer shook his head. He tried to focus on situating his bag under his seat. “Nothing. Just making sure it was the right order.”

“You sure?”

Spencer sighed. “Yes, Mom. I’m sure.”

Derek backed onto the street and the tangled web of LA highways in silence. The radio filled in some of the gaps as Reid fiddled with the stations and LA drivers were liberal with their car horns. As they slowed into stop and start traffic, Derek relaxed his grip on the wheel. He cocked his head to the side.

“Kid?”

“Yeah?”

“Never call me ‘Mom’ again.”

Oh. So maybe this wasn’t paternal after all. Reid blushed.

#criminal minds #moreid #derek morgan #spencer reid #cm #mine #Anonymous

47 notes · View notes

dreaming-of-assclass · 4 years ago

Note

Do you have any science project group headcanons like for groups like Nagisa, Kayano, Maehara, and Kataoka that were grouped for science class like in season 1 episode 5 (Assembly Time)

Oooooh! Love asks like these!!! 💚

And thanks to this post by the awesome @/greengargouille, we know all the canon groups!

Itona and Ritsu aren’t in official groups, so I put them in where I thought they’d fit in best!

1. Isogai, Mimura, Nakamura, Okano

Wow...I forgot that Nakamura and Okano were ever in the same group

But I love it because I HC their friendship to be a casual but hella fun one

Isogai and Mimura are old friends from last year! I imagine there’s slight awkwardness on Mimura’s side given that they’re in different friend groups now. But Isogai is very friendly and aware, so it passes pretty soon

Nakamura is one of the biggest causes of Isogai’s headaches lmao. But hey, at least they’re on the same wavelength academically.

POOR OKANO. SHE IS A JOCK SURROUNDED BY ACADEMICS.

Well at least she’s interested in science and it’s her best subject. She still feels bored unless they’re dealing with physics, then she’s completely on top of her game.

Nakamura and Okano are the chaotic half. Isogai and Mimura are the ones who wanna get shit done. Unless the girls manage to drag poor Mimura into doing dumb stuff

Have I ever told you guys that once in my Chemistry lab, one of my friends and I managed to break the sink faucet? Like we destroyed it lmfao

That is Nakamura and Mimura friendship energy ngl

Okano is one of Isogai’s most dependable close friends, but she also loves to annoy him for no reason sometimes.

So she’ll ask obvious questions with a smug smile, trying to watch his patience explode. But jokes on her because Isogai has an infinite amount of patience sadly

2. Kurahashi, Yada, Takebayashi, Kimura

They’re a...fairly productive group lmao

Tbh I don’t think Kurahashi is the type to really pay attention to any science outside of biology like me

So she’ll be a BEAST when it comes to that and get 100′s on everything. But like in chem and physics, she’s not as great

Yada is the best at design and organization, so she always takes that job. Making colorful presentation slides? She got it. Need to type up the final report in a google doc? Yep, she’s your girl

Kimura is a gremlin, like I always say. He’s the clown of the group lmfao and will spend more time stalling and messing around than doing actual work

He also tends to lowkey distract Kurahashi with unrelated convos. He tries to talk to Yada too, but she goes into girlboss mode and ignores him

Guys, everyone give it up for Takebayashi. King is hard carrying this entire group

He’s the one who stays the most focused but on occasion can be distracted by Kimura bringing up topics they’re both into, like certain comics or something.

Kurahashi and Yada also can get caught up in their own conversations since they’re besties. Also they will roast the boys all they want, if they feel like it.

All around, they’re kind of a mediocre group haha

3. Nagisa, Kayano, Maehara, Kataoka, Ritsu

Woah I LOVE this combination of students

I couldn’t help but add Ritsu here hehe. I also like the idea that she’s kind of attached to Kataoka in the beginning, considering all their moments together in canon.

Nagisa and Kataoka act like parent friends, as usual. They’re the ones who wanna work diligently and just get things done.

Maehara and Kayano are the more lenient ones haha. They’ll claim that they have low attention spans. Both Kayano and Maehara much prefer labs and getting to do cool science stuff, at least.

Also!! It’s good that they’re in this group because they’re social types who can reach out to other groups and get help/answers from them ^^

Kataoka, sighing: “Well, Maehara, at least you have a talent for networking, I guess.”

Ritsu is in between the lenient side and the diligent side. She’s very good at science and can do her work very well!! But sometimes she gets swayed by Maehara and Kayano’s fun attitudes and doesn’t concentrate haha

Kayano keeps getting flustered whenever she’s sitting right besides Kataoka haha. Bonus points if their arms brush or she has to lean over her or something.

Also best believe there’s lots of Big-brother-Maehara and Little-brother-Nagisa moments

4. Kanzaki, Hazama, Yoshida, Muramatsu, Terasaka

So...this is basically just AU where Kanzaki joins the Disaster Squad lmfao

Hazama, Yoshida, Muramatsu, and Terasaka are already besties, we know this. They’re probably totally used to working together.

Enter Kanzaki. A newcomer.

Lmao I don’t think she’d be totally friendly at first. I think she’d be polite but distant, and barely speak up unless they were discussing.

Sgsjhakdj who thought putting the squad together was gonna lead to productivity, they’re probably gonna create so much chaos lmao

Something definitely explodes at least once.

They’re dealing with an acidic chemical and literally the whole class manages to not get burned, except for Terasaka.

Yoshida voice: “dude you had ONE job”

After a couple classes, Kanzaki breaks out of her shell more and more, and she gets pretty chill with them.

She’s closest with Hazama, and they like to roast the boys at times. Also have random literature discussions that drive Terasaka crazy. “Can y’all not? Like this is literally physics class?”

The squad teasing Yoshida about his crush on Kanzaki whenever he blushes or stutters talking to her

Idk why but I really like the idea of a Kanzaki and Muramatsu friendship

5. Hayami, Okuda, Karma, Chiba, Okajima

AWKWARD

THIS IS SUCH AN ODD GROUP LMAO

My bestie Nao made a post on them before which I love

And yeah...I don’t have much to add lol.

Chiba and Karma definitely join forces to insult Okajima at some point

Okajima kind of constantly digs himself into a grave with stupid comments. He almost dies after pointing out how Karma and Hayami act like cats

Okuda doesn’t have to carry the group that much since they’re all fairly smart for the most part. But if you want verified answers, then yeah definitely check in with her

6. Sugino, Fuwa, Hara, Sugaya, Itona

I think this is a really cute and funny group

Sorry, couldn’t resist adding Itona mainly because Hara is in it, and I would love their interactions in a schoolwork-group setting

Tbh?? None of them are very sciency lmao, so they’re that one group you always see in irl class that are very lost. And they’re super vocal about how confused they are adjkhjda

Sugaya, yelling across the room: “Can someone help us? Please?”

Hara takes the reins as leader but more in like a “getting everyone organized and harmonious” way

Sugino takes the charge in the actual lesson work and lab stuff, but he really shouldn’t lmao. I love the boy, he’s a talented genius in so many ways, but he leads them to chaos

Fuwa surprisingly isn’t as vocal in these groups as she usually is. In fact, it’s a little concerning how quiet she- WAIT FUWA ARE YOU REALLY WRITING FANFICTION IN THE MIDDLE OF OUR LAB

#fuwagotexposed

Itona, as usual, is around to make blunt and sarcastic comments that are in no way helpful. If you voice this to him, he will insult your intelligence even more while still looking adorable

He especially comes at Sugino and Sugaya, who feel very attacked. Like?? WHAT DID I DO TO YOU ITONA?

I feel like...while the group descends into confused chaos, Itona just watches with blunt criticisms. Then in the very last seven minutes of class, he takes over and finishes the assignment with 100% accuracy

Sugaya: “YOU LITTLE BASTARD GENIUS-”

Sugino: “WHY DIDN’T YOU DO THIS EARLIER?”

#assclass #ansatsu kyoushitsu #assassination classsroom #headcanons #3-e #shdkfhsdkas i didn't expect to enjoy the last group until i started writing them #now im obsessed with this dynamic haha #they give me sitcom vibes

41 notes · View notes

slothgiirl · 4 years ago

Text

maybe together we can get somewhere (noah x mc)

the gang finds out noah is alive. he and mc have built a life together while no one was paying attention (12k)

this was fun and experimental to write, trying to build a relationship through the limitations of the gang only getting snippets of noah and mc and hopefully giving enough information to piece together a plot without being to expository. hope u enjoy (noah x mc are soulmates change my mind)

Stacy.

It's a family vacation. Only the second one after her college graduation since she's only living an hour from Westchester.

It's her mom and dad and Connor and his girlfriend and her girlfriend.

Sofi laughs easily, fitting right in at some story Connor is telling and Stacy’s still annoyed that her brother brought up what she and her friends had found in the woods as children when they were at the airport: when anyone could have heard. She doesn't want to deal with it ever again. And she'll get up and move across the country if she has to.

Connor catches her gaze and offers a small smile and just like that; Stacy let's it go.

“Oh a farmers market,” her mom cries out, “we should check it out!”

Her dad laughs, “alright but don't expect me to eat any frankenstein fruit.”

Stacy snorts, finding Vancouver both amazing, and like any other city she's been to. Canada is hardly an exotic travel destination, but it's nice, waking up to a view of the pacific ocean. She wonders if she should visit her old friend since she's in town.

She'd last talked to you on the phone a month ago, surely she could just drop in.

Sofi slides her hand into Stacy’s, before asking, “what are you thinking about?” It's the first time Sofia's really spent time with her family. And her girlfriend knows about her tendency to overthink and now is one of those times.

Stacy's sighs, “just-I have a friend who lives in Vancouver. I was wondering whether I should visit them or not.”

Her girlfriend smiles, leading them into a stall with lots of fruit samples, “You should! If they're your friend I bet they'd be really happy to see you.”

Stacy shrugs. “Yeah, I guess you're right. It's not like I'm going to be in Vancouver again anytime soon.”

She grabs a second sample of the blood oranges, before telling Stacy as she decides to get a few for the road, “so who is this friend?” Because Sofi doesn't know about the whole Redfield thing and she'll never know because Stacy doesn't want to burden her with Redfield and also doesn't want to talk about it herself. It's over: in the past. Finished.

“One of my childhood friends like Lucas. There was this whole group of us,” Stacy explains.

“Like Dan,” Sofi nods, understanding. “Do you guys still talk?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you should totally drop by! Personally, I could skip the biking tour.”

Stacy laughs, “my parents really just got us all the types of tour.” It was nice, how much things had changed and the boat tour had been fun even if she’d gotten pretty cold over those two hours, it had just been the perfect excuse to snuggle up with Sofi and a cup of warm coffee inside. Connor and Vy could be outdoorsy together, taking millions of photos of the water and skyline.

“It’s cute,” Sofi comments, “my dad would just grumble about the expense and lead his own tour, no doubt getting us all lost.”

Stacy shrugs, “that’s why we have google maps.”

Sofi laughs, and pays for her oranges.

Stacy’s tired of the crowded stall, so she steps outside to wait. Canadians may be polite, but there’s only so many people brushing past her she can take. She takes out her phone and asks Lily for your address because of course Lily has it; she had sent everyone care packages and birthday presents without fail. Stacy had just sent an electronic gift card and called it a day.

There’s a good crowd but this isn't a sad little farmers market like the one back home that has like nothing but a stall or two.

She finds that she does miss the small town feel of the city she lives in even if she has to drive everywhere and living close to her family is nice even if she’ll forever hate the woods, any woods. Andy and tom had confirmed nothing was out in Westchester but she won’t chance it.

It’s second nature to go through her emails while she’s on her phone.

She scans the crowd, seeing if she spots her family somewhere. And sure enough Connor and Vy are sniffing at some tea samples, looking disgustingly sweet together and Stacy makes sure to take a picture because she went with Connor and Tom to pick out the ring. He just has to pop the question.

Wait! Was she or Sofi going to ask the question? Oh god, Stacy wanted to marry this girl. It hits her like a ton of bricks and they’re only 23, been dating two years so they have time, but Stacy’s sure. This is the one.

The panic subsides as she realizes, yeah, this is the woman she wants to spend the rest of her life with and that’s no big deal. They’ll take it day by day.

She locks her phone, glances around, ready to go get Sofi who probably struck up a whole conversation with the vendors and is getting invited over to their house for dinner as Stacy stands out here, waiting, and sees. . .well not Noah Marshall because he’s dead. So that’s not possible. And it’s not like she’s in Westchester.

But-but it certainly looks like Noah at a glance.

She can’t actually make out the man’s features, just the back of his head, which wow-Stace, she might just be losing it if she’s starting to see Noah Marshall walking around, but there’s something about the way the man walks and the shade of hair even if the haircut has changed. . .she shakes her head.

She’s imagining things.

“Ready to go,” Sofi asks, putting her hand on Stacy’s arm, “Your mom texted, she said to meet in front of Whole Foods wherever that is. Also, hilarious that there’s a farmers market in front of Whole foods.”

Stacy snorts, nodding, “yeah, let’s go.” And then looks back because it’s been five years and she still wants to kick Noah’s ass even though he’s dead so it’s a non issue at this point.

The man’s gone.

Stacy soon forgets among trying to keep up with the itinerary that her family had made on google docs over the past few months.

They take a ferry in the general direction of the address Lily gave her because it’s a fun way to travel. Connor comes along but Vy stays behind in the hotel because she wants to call her parents.

“Did they go to school here,” Connor asks, because it had been a few years and he hadn’t really kept in touch with you the way Stacy and the others had.

“No,” Stacy explains as she double checks the address while Sofi points out cute houses as they walk down the street google maps is saying the house is on. “They went to UWash. I think they studied something boring like finance which I know Ava made fun of them in the group chat about.”

Sofi, a current law student, asks, “what’s wrong with finance?”

Connor snorts, “you’re talking about the same woman that helped organize supplies for her campus’ black lives matter protests.”

“Ava’s very anti-establishment,” Stacy explains because Sofi hasn’t met Ava. Her old friend had transferred to Berkeley before Stacy started dating Sofi, but not before showing everyone her minor magical abilities. “You know, the whole break up the banks, give native americans their land back, will definitely end up a granola anthropology professor in some university after her goth phase.”

Sofi nods, “Ah, I get it. She’s not wrong about the banks. Did you watch the big short?”

“You have the most boring taste in movies,” Stacy teases because this woman made her watch Dunkirk which was long and boring and the soundtrack gave her a headache.

Her girlfriend shrugs shamelessly, “I did do a film studies minor so. . .”

Stacy knocks on the door. “I hope they’re in.” It’s a cute if small house on the edge of the city, close enough to still be part of Vancouver without being in the middle of traffic. There’s a subway station just two streets over, but taking the ferry had been much nicer. Subways had lost their charm in new york after all the times Stacy had been an hour or two late because of some issue.

“Wait,” Connor asks, raising a brow, “you didn’t text them?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Stacy admits. She hadn’t seen you in over two years. You had even less of a reason to be in Westchester compared to everyone who’s family still lived there. Your house had sat empty since you left for college.

“I think it's cute,” Sofi says, wrapping her arms around Stacy’s waist from behind.

Stacy smiles, blushing slightly.

The door opens up and holy fuck.

Stacy gasps, her mouth forming a wide O because she can’t even form a coherent thought.

A very much alive and happy Noah Marshall opens the door, wearing a pink apron that says something inane “kiss the cook”, with more than a bit of food stains, and flour on his chin. He’s not wearing a beanie, but it’s summer and Stacy is sweating even in shorts, and his hair is cut and styled instead of long and greasy like it had been in high school. His eye color has somehow changed from brown to a strange shiny blue that seems too catlike to be natural but that’s whatever when he’s apparently risen from the dead.

What the hell!

Connor is just as flabbergasted as she is.

And Noah’s caught off guard, the easy smile dying on his lips as he realizes who’s at the door.

It’s Sofi that spares them, asking Noah if you’re home, because she doesn’t know anything about what went down in your senior year of high school.

Noah nods wordlessly, “yeah, yeah, come in,” even though he looks like that's the last thing he wants to do looking as grim faced as he had been in school, sitting in the back and refusing to talk to anyone.

For once, Stacy wishes Sofi wasn't here because she wants nothing more than to kick Noah’s ass. She took kickboxing lessons, she totally could. Noah's taller, but not exactly built in the same way Andy is after all the years of exercise; though he's not exactly a scrawny teenager anymore.

How long has this been going on?

You're sitting at the kitchen table, a cheap flimsy thing from Ikea that at least has the decency to look nice, laptop open while wearing a moth-eaten oversized t-shirt of the beastie boys. You don't even look up, when you ask nonchalantly, “so who was at the door?” You reach a hand from another chip, eating straight from the bag.

“Stacy,” Noah says faux cheerfully. And Stacy did not miss how annoying he could be. “And Connor Green.”

You finally look up. A couple thousand emotions running through your face: surprise as you open your lips to speak and then close it without a word, your brow furrows as you frown, then you exchange glances with Noah, then you're blushing red as you meet Stacy's questioning gaze, caught red handed. After a second, you can't meet her gaze, instead looking at Connor the same way you had that year as if he could single handedly save you from everything and no wonder you asked him to the dance, oblivious to Stacy's crush on you at the time.

“Hey Connor, long time no see,” you get up, crossing the length of the small kitchen to hug him, “Andy's always going on about you, you know.”

Connor manages a smile, “it's good to see you, too.”

“Hi, I'm Sofi,” she says, extending a hand, “Stacy’s told me a lot about you.”

You shake her hand, inviting her to down sit, “all of you. Dinner’salmost ready.” You glance at Stacy asking. . .

She shakes her head. Of course she hasn't mentioned Noah. She's tried to erase him from her memories the same way she's tried to forget all about the ruins in the woods and Dan disappearing.

“Not that you helped,” Noah quips, proceeding to slip back into the kitchen.

“Self care.” You smile back, confirming her suspicion that this had been going on for a while. And you haven't mentioned anything. Not once. But then, you stopped bringing him up when you realized everyone was on the same page, the page you weren't, after what he had done, no amount of childhood tragedy could excuse the fact he had been willing to kill all his friends for some monster. Stacy couldn't find it in her to forgive him, even in death.

Meanwhile, you had spent too much time after everything that happened crying over this jerk.

“What are you making,” Sofi asks as Stacy takes a seat, everything clicking together as you offer everyone something to drink, exchanging lovesick smiles with Noah even as he bats you away from the stove with a spatula.

You loved him.

Despite everything he had done, you loved him. Stacy couldn't understand: had been closer to Dan and you than Noah even as kids. The way you looked at him said everything; the way you'd chased after him, unwilling to let him go into the woods alone.

It made sense why you were so willing to forgive him, and why you had spent so much time mourning him.

“Vegetable pot pie,” Noah explains, starting to roll out the dough, “This one decided to become vegetarian.”

“Since when,” Connor asks, deciding to just go along with it all. Maybe Connor was just mentally stronger, better able to cope with all the supernatural weirdness having helped Tom out at the lake, and still trying to understand the power from all of Pritch’s journals.

“Just a few months ago,” you admit. “It was this whole vegan challenge at work for the month but I missed yogurt a lot but giving up meat was pretty easy.”

“Where are you working now,” Stacy asks, taking a seat carefully, making sure not to turn her back on Noah.

“Oh,” you smile, closing your computer, resting your chin against your hand, “UBC, at the anthropology museum. It's why I-we moved here. I do financial analysis for their investments. Ava found it really funny that I got a job at a museum before her.”

“Oh,” Stacy wonders, glancing at Noah again, who's just as tense if the line of his shoulders is anything to go by, and the telling line of his mouth that reminds Stacy of the first and last time she tried to include him: a APUSH presentation that Noah had waved off and preferred to bomb. “You told Ava?”

She feels the sting of hurt but Ava makes the most sense considering you were closest to her and Lily. Not to mention Ava was still messing around with the occult. A heavy lead ball of anxiety always forms whenever Ava has shown Stacy her magic tricks.

You get the double meaning.

Noah pointedly ignores her, carrying a conversation about the best places to eat in the city with Sofi.

You force yourself to smile, “about the job yeah. Thought she'd laugh since she's the anthropologist. She called it the encroachment of late stage capitalism.”

“That sounds about right for Ava,” Stacy snorts.

You'd chosen Noah over her: over your friends. The choice had already been made before Stacy had even known this was an option.

You two were a packaged deal.

Stacy takes a deep breath, and turns her back on Noah, joining the light conversation of local things to do in Vancouver and how you had completely face planted while trying to ice skate.

“-and instead of helping me,” you tease, getting plates out for everyone, “Noah just sat back and laughed!”

“And took a video,” Noah points out. “You don't have any balance babe.”

“I wouldn't do you like that,” you wrinkle your nose, smiling fondly as Noah brings the food out of the oven, the smell filling the small house and suddenly Stacy’s mouth is watering.

“You have,” he replies all mock offended, “you left me in the cab!”

“I was very drunk,” you shrug shamelessly, then turn to Sofi and Connor with an explanation. “Too much fun on date night.”

“Shut up,” Noah utters, placing the food on the table, looking incredibly soft and it finally sinks in. He's alive. He's alive and you're together and while Stacy doesn't care for him, she's glad you're doing well.

She's still going to punch him the first chance she gets.

The food’s some of the best she's ever had.

She hugs you goodbye two hours later: a great big tight hug that says everything she hasn't been able to because of distance. She puts all her love and tenderness into hugging you. “It was so good seeing you,” Stacy says and means it. One day they'll talk about this.

But not now.

She's dragging Sofi into this.

You nod, hugging her back just as tight, before whispering in softly into her ear, “please don't tell anyone.”

And how could she refuse, with your sweet chocolate eyes looking at her like that, as if she holds everything you hold dear in her hands. It's easy for Stacy to make the choice to look away and say nothing.

Lily.

Britney makes them take a hundred selfies before they even leave the airport. Lily beams at the camera even as she pays for starbucks. “Aw man we should've tried tim hortons now that we're officially in Canada.” Lily muses, shooting you a text, letting you know she'd soon be out of the airport.

“But do they have peppermint frappuccinos,” Britney asks, leading the way as they head to the exit. Airports were always so big. It took forever to get anywhere.

“I'm not big on peppermint,” Lily comments even though Britney already knows that, before taking a long sip of her pink drink. She really had been craving a drink. That was another thing about planes: dehydration. Still, it would be worth it to visit you for the first time since you moved to Canada.

“I know,” Britney winks, “that's just more peppermint bark for me.”

Britney's the one that spots you first. Lily's taller than you, but still pretty short. “Your loser friends over there.” Britney teases and it shows how far she and Lily have come that they're able to laugh about the time wasted in high school where she bullied other kids including Lily.

Lily follows on her heels, fixing her coat to try and look cute. It had only been a three hour plane ride but it was three hours plus dealing with airport security so it felt closer to three years. Gosh it had almost been three years since she graduated college. Time just flew by.

Excitement bubbles up and Lily’s smiling hard when she sees you in an olive green jacket and grey hoodie combo, still the same as ever if happier now that you weren't stressing about school.

She had meant to visit you sooner but being an adult meant things often got in the way.

Then Lily spots Noah Marshall hovering behind you, laughing at something you just said , face lit up like a kid who's just been told they can finally dig into their Halloween candy. Except it can't be Noah because he's dead. Yet here he is, wearing a black coat, washout blue hoodie, and of course a beanie. If Jocelyn was here, she'd say he looks like an asshole wearing aviators indoors.

Removing any doubt of who he is, Lily having already come up with a reasonable explanation of you having coped with Noah's death by finding a lookalike, dies when he spots Britney and Lily before you. “Lily,” Noah grins as if he didn't die after trying to kill her, “you looked like someone kicked your puppy.”

You smack his shoulder. “Behave,” you tease as you try and smother a gasp. You meet her gaze sheepishly, but Lily's still too flabbergasted to respond.

“Aren't you supposed to be dead,” Britney asks.

He deadpans, “Mandela effect.”

This time, you dissolve into laughter.

Noah glances over at you with a smile, pleased with himself.

Lily finally manages, “explain.”

You nod, “let's get you settled in first.”

Britney hands her bag to Noah, “here. I need to carry Lily's bag.”

“Sure thing,” Noah snorts, taking her bag.

Lily had imagined Canada to be much more green. Like a national park green, with so much plant life she could smell it thick in the air, but it's pretty much just another downtown metropolitan area like Seattle. You'd really only moved a few hours away from Seattle so that made sense.

She keeps glancing over at Noah as if he'll disappear and this is some trick from whatever thing still lived in Westchester. But he's still there, flesh and blood, his arm draped around your shoulder as they stand by where she and Britney have taken a seat, bags under their feet. They had only brought carry on bags.

You're obviously together but Lily keeps getting stuck on the fact that Noah's alive.

She isn't surprised. Noah only ever had time for you that year; both of you slinking off when you thought no one was paying attention. Lily remembers seeing you hug Noah in some lonely corner of the school if you didn't skip fifth period math.

And Connor had said he'd seen you both out in town during school hours.

Maybe it's the glasses.

Noah won't be alive to her until she sees his entire face, leaving no room for error.

“Can't believe you're moving to Seattle!” You repeat because yeah Lily had gotten a nice job offer there.

“Neither can I,” Britney complains, “I like SF, and I'd like to live somewhere warm one day. Aren't there any major tech firms in Miami?”

“Nasa,” Lily says thoughtfully, “I didn't have the experience to apply though.”

Her girlfriend frowns, “You went to Berkeley though. That has to count for like ten years.”

Lily laughs.

“You should've shot your shot,” you agree.

“Isn't Florida super humid though,” Noah mentions tilting his head, reminding Lily that he's there and she can't help but flinch. “And there's tons of snakes and agitators everywhere.”

“I like snakes,” Britney notes.

He had been so sweet those last few weeks, Lily thinks to herself. Noah was always saying how she was much stronger because she could be kind even as everything was going to hell. In english, she'd burst into tears, sick and tired of having nightmares just to wake up to a living nightmare, and he'd chased after her, comforting her.

It had made his betrayal hurt all the more.

“So how exactly are you,” Lily asks, dancing around the subject. Surely it was rude to bring up that Noah had been dead.

“Alive,” he replies, quirking his brow, holding Britney's bag as he opens the door.

“Yeah. . .that.”

This time, when you and Noah look at each other, there's no boundless joy that fits in perfectly with the holiday season. You've even put up snowmen in the house's windows, and there's lights wrapped around the porch: off right now. It's just you looking at Noah with glassy eyes and Noah with an amount of tenderness in his eyes that Lily didn't know people were capable of in real life: the look people get when they're finally able to confess how in love they are in movies.

It's only there for a second and then Noah's making light of the whole situation, as if he can't stand to see that haunted look in your eyes, “Well you know what they say, when you wish upon a star-”

You roll your eyes, lightly smacking his arm, then changing your mind and squeezing his arm. “Don't be a dick.” Then you round your attention on Lily, “there's the shoe rack.” Before ushering the group into the living room. “I-I didn't,” you take a deep breath, tugging your coat off as you take a seat on a cheap navy cotton couch. “I guess I never stopped looking for a way,” you glance at Noah, “for a way to fix things. I mean, I still went back there for all the school breaks.”

You've stopped looking at Lily, gaze locked on Noah's. Pink dusts his cheeks and he ducks his head, looking alway, out into the quiet street, skyscrapers in the distance.

Britney purses her lips, listening intently. She heard accounts of this nature from Jocelyn. Dan knee better than to tell her anything about the woods back home.

“And I found it,” you finish without elaboration. Lily understands. Some things were, there were some things too awful to speak once again into being.

He slips his hand into yours, threading your fingers together.

It's sweet and though Lily's reservations remain, it's clear he loves you.

“Okay then,” Britney claps together, knowing full well she was ruining the moment, “how soon can we go shopping. I'm doing all my christmas shopping in Canada.”

“Because of the exchange rate,” Noah sneers, not missing a beat.

“Hardly,” Britney snaps back, “I'm a certified trophy wife now.” She smiles as she looks over at Lily who giggles.

It's two in the morning and Lily keeps tossing and turning. It's warm with the heater chugging away in the night. But she can't sleep.

They'd spent the whole day out, exploring the city. You'd gotten a few days off work. Britney had made you both carry bags and bags of gifts as promised.

At least she'd have plenty of time to wrap them. December had only just begun.

But Lily can't sleep.

It isn't the nightmares of her childhood: of Jane and all the things she wishes she had said no to, or those terrible months in which Lily had nearly died from sheer terror, but a pool of anxiety masquerading as restlessness.

She gets up, having visited you before back in Seattle, back when you had shared an apartment with Ava and a revolving door of roommates during college, and wonders if Ava knows. Ava, who messes around in the more supernatural corners of the world, who you had always been closest too.

Lily gets up and decides maybe a glass of water will calm her down as she chews over the idea of Noah and her both under the same roof.

She slips into the dark kitchen, with that weird anxiety that she was sneaking around that she could never shake even knowing that you wouldn't mind her going through your kitchen. She slips into the kitchen and nearly faints at the sight of Noah at the table.

He's sitting in pitch dark.

Only it isn't-

“-your eyes,” Lily hisses, breaking the calm of the twilight hours.

Noah's sitting in the dark reading.

Because his eyes are glowing blue like redfield when she was little and redfield was a friend and hadn't shown it's true nature.

Noah's eyes are glowing.

“Shit,” Noah says gently, reaching up to flip the lights on.

He moves slowly, but Lily still flinches.

“I'm sorry Lils,” he says, those three words encompassing so many years and the darkest parts of her life, casting a shadow over her whole life she can never escape because Westchester is home but it's also where it happened and Noah's a big part of why Lily spent a year having panic attacks: having flashbacks to that awful game. He says it and the last itchy scab over the deep wound Lily has harbored for years flakes off.

Lily does a little nod of acceptance, but keeps her eyes on his unnaturally reflective eyes, a light in the dark.

She swallows thickly.

That glass of water sounds amazing right about now.

“What are you doing reading in the dark,” she asks. It seems Noah had been right all those years ago; Lily was able to keep trying, a flower growing in a crack of cement.

“Studying,” Noah says calmly. “It's pretty boring actually. Sort of makes me wish I was still haunting the woods.” His smile is small, testing the waters.

Lily-she can't. She shits her eyes, shaking her head once, slow.

“Sorry,” he says easily, shutting a thick textbook, “coping mechanism.”

Lily thinks about all those nights she'd wake up in the middle of a nightmare, “is it a glitch then?” She tilts her head curiously, the way she spent hours going over the same file of code checking for any bugs: and mistakes that had slipped through the cracks.

“You could call it that. . .but they reckon that it's more of a give and take situation.” He fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt. “The power takes people but gives them power, and when, when they brought me back, I took something with me.”

For once, dread doesn't fill Lily at the mention of what lies in the woods back home.

Lily nods, and pours herself a glass of water. “What are you studying?”

“Psychology,” Noah answer's, “trying to do developmental psychology. I want to,” he waits a beat before finishing in a rush. “I'd like to be a child therapist.”

“I thought you wanted to go to culinary school,” Lily questions. She remembers you mentioning that once. Then there's the fact that Noah had brought her lunch to school a few times when he'd learned that Lily's parents had forced her into a diet.

“I did,” he shrugs. “Turns out I like to cook for myself more than anything.”

Lily smiles.

She's glad he's able to move on like she has.

“You know I use to have nightmares. Nothing really helped apart from-.”

“Tiring myself out,” you both finish.

Noah smiles grimly.

Lily drinks he water and keeps him company for a while.

Lucas

Logically, Lucas knows that Canada is not that different from the states yet he still feel like the place should be more exotic as he steps off the plane for work. It's grueling work really, the pay is bad and he flies economy more than is healthy for his back, but he likes keeping private corporations on their toes. That was the whole point of environmental science, though going to law school for the same thing is starting to look more and more appealing everyday.

He just feels like he doesn't have the weight to truly go after these people and hates having to pass off the cases when he knows he could do more.

But law school is. . .stressful.

He'd have already started his third year of law if he had just gone straight to law school after undergrad.

Lucas wonders if he's ready to manage that type of stress.

He gets off the plane and has to go directly to the non-profits office. It's a tiny little thing in a rougher part of the city; gone are the shiny sports cars and whole foods.

There's boxes of paperwork dating back from the 60s and he gets to work, drinking the cheap donut shop coffee that the office head, an amicable black man who still has a rhythmic african accent that Lucas isn't worldly enough to place, gives him with a shrug, “got to support our local businesses eh?”

Lucas nods. “Tell me about it. I feel like I missed out on the New York that was happening.” Ava had sent him a buy back the block patch and he really hadn't been surprised because she had always been opinionated and headstrong about it. If she was the town witch, well then she was going to be the biggest baddest witch.

He types a reminder into his notes to get her a souvenir.

He uses yelp to find a cheap diner, where he continues to pour over a thick manila folder--have to break up the work--and finds that he can smell the ocean here even when he can't exactly see it.

Lucas sets a reminder to himself to go enjoy the beach at least once.

Then he sees the reminder to call and ask Stacy where you were living. Lucas half wanted it to be a surprise, but worried he'd miss you.

He knew you liked going out dancing. And he had arrived on a Friday night.

It was unorthodox.

He usually worked strictly in the states since each country had their own laws and environmental precedent established by the courts. And alright, Lucas’ phone had a lot of law school tabs open. He was only twenty four. That wasn't too old for law school.

Weren't some students in legally blonde in their thirties?

Experience could give him an edge.

Lucas calls Stacy but it goes straight to voice mail.

Right, time difference.

He'd have to wait until tomorrow.

Having not exchanged any money as of yet, Lucas pays for his breakfast for dinner with his card and hopes the fee isn't too bad. Then he stuffs the folders and decides to walk to his hotel.

It's an hour long walk through town but years of being incredibly stressed had left him with the purposeful choice of slowing down when he could. Sometimes it felt like forcing himself to slow down, but he always felt better after a walk through a new city or sitting down with a fictional book even when he swore he didn't feel all wound up.

As far as cheap diners, tonight's was good and he had fun trying poutine.

Lucas walks through the tall buildings and wishes he hadn't worn a suit jacket. He should've worn a plain shirt or one of those gag gifts Andy was always sending him from various thrift stores. It might be further up north than even he grew up, but it was still hot in the summer.

Walking an hour in a casual suit was not his greatest idea, but the city carried the same vibrant energy the new york had. The energy that had encouraged Lucas to go to a house party--once.

He's walking by a street full of dive bars all blaring out nostalgic hits from his teenage years from Hannah Montana, which okay, to Kesha which sounded about right, and of course, Blackpink. The chalkboards outside all promise cheap drinks but Lucas isn't a big drinker.

He isn't sure how much of that is avoiding any substance that could get him hooked or if he's making that choice because he really doesn't like alcohol.

Lucas is just about through, about to by a monolithic building that has a bunch of displays in the windows, when he does a double take.

Noah fucking Marshall is smoking on the curb outside a bar, face flushed.

There's no doubt about it. Lucas would know that asshole anywhere. The same sharp jawline and prominent nose, brown hair curling around his ears only a few inches showered than it had in high school. He's wearing dark jeans and a black leather jacket over a white shirt and looking way too happy for a murderer.

Noah Marshall wearing aviators at night like the rat bastard he is!

The intense feelings of rage and wanting to hit something until the world righted itself surges in Lucas’ chest until there's a white hot anger in his throat and red clouding his vision.

He blacks out.

One second he's furiously gapping at the man-

the next

-Lucas is standing over Noah Marshall, knuckles on fire having just sucker punched the fucker.

Oh shit.

Noah looks just as surprised for a second as he looks up, blood beading up where his lips split open.

Lucas watches as recognition hits those bambi blue eyes---wait, blue.. .?

And then Noah shrugs, the ghost of a smile forming on his lips as he states, “yeah. I deserved that.”

There's a couple people looking over.

Lucas is still pissed as Noah gets up, dusting himself off and looking at the barely smoked cigarette on the ground as if he wants to smoke it, before grabbing the glasses and placing them back on instead.

Then, he grabs another cigarette, “want one,” he offers Lucas who no, wouldn't want one: wouldn't want anything from Noah if he was drowning and Noah had the only life jacket.

He was good with drowning.

Thanks.

Lucas, anger still fizzing under his skin like boiling water, asks, “how the fuck are you here!”

Noah shrugs, before slurring and it's then that Lucas realizes the other man is flushed drunk, “I live here,” without an ounce of sarcasm.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Lucas says, curling his lip and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh you know me. I'm just plotting world domination and decided Vancouver would be the perfect location for my evil villain lair. I've got a neon sign and everything.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, grinding his teeth together. “Do you always have to be such an asshole?”

Noah spreads his hands out and proceeds to do jazz hands, before taking a drag of his cigarette.

Fuck, Lucas feels like punching him again.

He's really thinking about it as he watches Noah, sure the idiot will try something again, when he hears your voice as you stumble out of the bar, “I knew it! You were going out for a smoke break!”

Noah's entire demeanor shifts, no longer the boy Lucas has built up in his head as the cause of all their problems. Over the years, he's decided that Noah had known from the start. In the depths of his denial, Lucas had told himself that Noah had kidnapped Dan. But, you appear, and Noah's turns bright pink as he hurried to stomp out the cigarette you've already seen like a naughty school boy, even as he turns and smiles as if you hung the sun in the sky and painted the night stars. It's lovesick the way you both look at each other with the fondness of ancient couples out for a walk in the park, lost in their own world.

However the fuck he's alive, Lucas realizes that this Noah, the real living Noah, has been just as freaked as the rest of them. It's something he hasn't thought about in years.

Noah had lost Jane.

It's enough for Lucas to unclench his hands even if he's still seething because what the hell, he still offered them all up on a silver platter. Redfield or Jane--whatever it was in the end--had given Ava powers and she hadn't stabbed your group of friends in the back.

You cross the distance quickly, and throw your arms around his middle, tipsy. That's probably why your smile is so pure-untouched by all the trauma and boring adult problems like remembering to pay the bills and having to call the cable company for the fifth time.

You don't even notice Lucas.

“What happened to your face,” you ask, raising your hand to cup Noah's cheek, frowning.

Noah nods over at Lucas.

You finally notice him.

“Lucas,” you wag your finger at him, still cuddled up to the man in question, “You can't punch Noah. Do you know how much trouble I went through to get him back?”

It shouldn't be possible, but Noah turns pinker.

“Aw babe,” Noah teases you with a familiarity that carries depth.

This wasn't a new development then.

“You really do care about me.”

This time, you round on Noah, wagging your finger menacingly, “Don’t be an idiot! Of course I love you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me!”

Which has Lucas majorly side eyeing you.

Sure, Noah had grown up to be tall and not unattractive, as far as pasty white boys were concerned, but he'd still tried to kill everyone.

Noah also looks skeptical.

“What are you doing in town Lucas,” you then ask.

“Work,” Lucas replies blandly, as he tries to come to terms with this reality altering discovery. “You were dead.”

“That's not entirely true,” Noah muses philosophically, “Physically I was dead but technically I was still roaming the woods as a monster.”

Reflexively, you interject, resting your hand on his chest, “you're not a monster.”

“I thought you liked the shape of water.”

Which sends you squealing. “Noah!”

Lucas doesn't get it. You are the strongest person he knows who can talk to anyone and has a sense of determination that rivals a gold medalist: the one who kept everyone together during one of the shiftiest times in his life, and he's who you settle for! “If you have to say technically, you've already lost the argument.”

You snort.

Noah rolls his eyes good naturedly.

“Wait,” you realize, eyes going wide, “does that mean you're younger than me now.”

Noah tilts his head in thought, “physically. . .”

“Pretty sure that means yes,” Lucas adds, wondering how long Noah had been back for.

“Oh my god, I'm stealing from the cradle!”

Noah looks incredibly affronted as he blinks rapid looking down at you like you'd grown a second head.

“You mean cradle robbing?”

“I'm. . .twenty four,” Noah says. Not even he sounds convinced.

“Twenty two,” you correct archly. Then look at Lucas with a friendly smile, “you want to go get pho?”

“Right now!” Lucas checks his watch. It was already midnight. He should've been at his hotel room sleeping by now.

You nod.

Noah elaborates, “it's pricey but the broth hits different. They have some pretty good view of the city too.”

Two years. Noah had been back for two years and you never said anything.

Lucas can put up with Noah for a few hours to spend time with you. After all, you were the one who was putting up with him for life apparently.

“Should we let-,” you begging to ask, amusement dancing in your eyes, city lights reflected in the dark brown hue that had a quality of depth that made it easy to open up to you.

“Nah,” Noah smirks, “Sheer chatted some dude up, they won't even realize-”

“Rahul will though.”

“Psst, it's fine.”

You've both built a life here, far removed from any traces of Westchester. Maybe that's where he had gone wrong. Lucas had been so desperate to escape he's never found a place of his own, and still haunted by his one and only home: a place he wants nothing to do with. He needed to make a new home.

Law school wasn't sounding too shabby.

Noah leads the way.

A lightbulb turns on.

“What's with your eyes?” Lucas asks.

Noah chuckles, “sometimes you fall into a vat of radioactive waste because that's just the type of luck you have.”

You shake your head, amused. “Side effect. It's nothing serious. We checked.”

That doesn't comfort Lucas at all.

He wonders if Connor or Tom could fix that just to be sure Noah wouldn't suddenly go Redfield on you while you were sleeping.

Ugh, that was one mental image he didn't need.

“So what terrible horrifying government secret are you here investigating and does it have to do with a company hiding vats of radioactive waste,” you ask.

Lucas takes the bait.

He could and has talked people's ears off about the loose regulations on place on waste disposal among an array of industries.

Andy, Dan, Tom

This all starts with two things as far as Tom is concerned. First, they've all been talking for ages about doing a guys road trip after everyone still around Westchester had driven down to visit Ava. Not that the girls weren't fun, Tom thought to himself, but it just sounded nice.

He never had a sleepover growing up so this would make up for that. At least that was the idea.

Then Lucas called Andy freaking out about Noah Marshall and Connor could only nod and go, “yeah he was with them about a year. . almost two since we visited. I think it's already been two years.”

Which was a total mindfuck because why hadn't he mentioned anything.

Why hadn't Stacy?

Tom’s done some research into necromancy and it never ends well which is why they pile into Dan’s prius and hit the road to Vancouver Canada. Sans Connor because Vy is pregnant and Connor is glued to her side. “I think they were dating,” he also adds, bookmarking some cases around New Orleans that scream supernatural activity. That throws everyone for another mind loop as he clues the Pine Springs gang who wasn't there that senior year, why Noah Marshall shouldn't be alive, much less freely walking around. The only person who takes the news relatively well is Dan, who scratches his chin thoughtfully before saying, “that makes sense,” he nods to himself.

Andy rounds on him, ready to kick Noah's ass on sight which Tom will totally back him up on. Tom still can't handle spiders for which Danni and Jocelyn continue to tease him about.

“How in the fuck does that make sense,” Andy seeths, “that motherfucker landed you in a coma! I broke my leg and had to repeat senior year!”

Dan adds, “well you know, they spoke about how tragic his death was. And they used to have nightmares of him dying-”

They all turn to look at Dan.

“What,” Andy says, “when did they tell you that?”

Dan shrugs, “well they were always coming over that year and making a point to spend time with everyone but I always thought they looked sad and thinking about them alone on the edge of town,” he trails off. He’d never brought up your parents absence, but it was clearly felt. “So I went over to theirs when I could,” Dan finishes.

Andy shakes his head, “no. I don’t know what or how, but people don’t just come back from the dead and everything's sunshine and roses,” he crosses his arms against his chest and fumes across the entire state of New York.

Tom has to agree with Andy. There’s nothing in their research to suggest that people can just come back okay. Everything taken by the power ended up twisted into a funhouse version; it never ended well.

They stretch their legs in Cleveland, Andy still scowling. Every now and then he’ll rant about how Noah has to be up to something and he has to go save you from dying. Tom doesn’t bring it up, prefering to let Andy work through it now and wrap his head around Noah Marshall being alive on the car ride up to Canada, but Connor had said Noah’s been back for at least two years--wouldn’t he already have done something? He thinks of you and how you had been alone with Noah at the end. Maybe you had kept some things to yourself.

It was hard to relive trauma aloud.

It made it more real.

Tom sends Imogen a few snaps in Toledo as Andy blasts The White Stripes, to fit his mood.

He wishes Parker had been able to get the days off. Having someone at a distance from the situation might help everyone keep their cool. He knows he won’t stop Andy from beating Noah’s ass.

Dan picks up postcards in Chicago for everyone, as they sit by the famous Bean eating pizza.

“I can’t tell if this is better or if I’m fucking starving,” Andy admits, on his third slice.

Dan snorts, looking up from his lap where he’s writing out the postcards, wanting to send them quickly, “so they make it back before we do.”

Tom takes a walk around the plaza, thinking that fall really was the best weather, cold enough for a sweater without being too freezing and the sun didn’t burn.

They don’t stop in Wisconsin or Minnesota except for gas and Mcdonalds.

Andy sleeps as Tom takes over the driving.

Dan’ll be up next.

“Please play something other than Beach House,” Tom complains at Dan, “this is going to make me fall asleep.”

Dan chuckles, “Its good night driving music.”

“No Dan,” Tom shakes his head with a smile

The sun rises, and Tom gets to sleep.

He wakes up in Rapid City, South Dakota and they have to recreate that awful Hilary Clinton, “just chilling in Rapid City,” Andy says mockingly.

Dan almost chokes on his coffee.

Montana is so fucking beautiful and Tom’s seized with the sudden urge to come live out here. “We could totally do it,” he tells the other men, “it’s cheap out here. We could buy a huge piece of land and never have to deal with any bullshit again. Our friend group could do it. Danni’s really handy and Lily could set us up with wifi!”

“Bro,” Andy says gravely, “you know I love you, but I’m not moving to Montana with you.”

Dam smiles softly, “Danni would have a field day taking pictures here.”

Montana is beautiful and green and none of the nature here has that heavy feeling the woods in Westchester do, but they’re tired and exhausted from being on the road for the last two days. They crash at a motel 8 and sleep for the next twelve hours.

They ask this beautiful woman who's wearing birks and has a tote bag emblazoned “love your mother” with a planet earth painted on, to take a picture of them in front of Pike Place Market. Dan has her number before Tom’s done sending the pictures to his Pine Springs groupchat, teasing Parker about having stayed behind to yell at teenagers smoking weed while driving boats around the lake: accidents waiting to happen.

Tom has never been to Seattle.

He knows most of his friends from Westchester have to visit you or Ava, and he's grown close to Ava, but at the time he was more of a friend of a friend and so never flew up to Seattle.

“Is it lame I'm still tired,” Andy asks, as they find a park to sit down at. It felt so good to be able to lay in the grass instead of sitting cramped up in the car.

“Age is starting to hit us.” Dan muses. “Either of you want to come get some things with me.”

His friend snorts, “Haven't you gotten enough gifts for everyone?” Which, yeah, Dan has been accumulating a small horde of souvenirs in the back for all his friends. He's a thoughtful guy. Tom’s not surprised the man’s a nurse. If he'd had Dan as a nurse when he was a kid, he might not completely hated going to the doctors office.

“I was kinda thinking about getting something from every state,” Dan says, blushing red as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I think it's sweet,” Tom says, clasping a hand on the other man's back. “Cheesy, but sweet.”

Andy shakes his head, “we should've gotten there by now. If only we hadn't stopped in Montana-”

“Noah's not going anywhere,” Dan points out, “you can kick his ass tonight or tomorrow.”

“They know we’re coming,” Andy scowls, “He could be halfway around the world by now.”

“Just remember Lucas already sucker punched him,” Tom offers his friend as consolation.

Dan shakes his head a little, but stays silent. Tom hasn't been able to get Dan’s feelings on the whole situation. He can’t imagine him being completely ambivalent or cool with Noah getting off scot free, but then again, Tom doesn’t know every little detail.

No one talks about it in detail even in their little power club that Connor and him started up.

He gets it.

It’s not something anyone wants to linger on.

And he understands better than most.

His monster was different, but no less horrifying.

“I’ll go with you,” Tom offers Dan, because this is a new city and even though the point is to go see what's up with Noah, and make sure he isn’t still the shadow monster he was the last time Tom saw him, he still wants to make the most of it.

“Two hours,” Andy says with a warning. “Two hours or I leave you in Seattle.”

“Sure, sure,” Tom shakes his head. Andy would never do them like that.

“If you’re coming we should go to the space needle,” Dan says thoughtfully, taking out his phone to begin google mapping the places he wants to hit up.

“Two hours!” Andy calls back from where he’s watching a couple people play basketball.

Tom discovers he has a thing about heights as they ascend via an elevator. It’s a slow day and the elevator operator talks him through it, telling him all sorts of bad puns and more information about the space needle then he can remember. “Sarah Palin came by the other day,” the woman who looks to be about their age with green ringlets and a friendly smile that doesn’t seem to be forced like most customer service workers smile (smile through the pain), “and she said she could see Alaska from here! Get it?”

Tom tries to smile, but yeah, he’s never doing this again. “Did you see the masked singer with Sarah Palin?”

The girl nods, “how the mighty have fallen. You think there's an alternate universe where she was vice president and insead Joe Biden’s on Dancing with the Stars?”

Tom’s laugh dies in his throat as the elevator jolts to a stop. It certainly feels like a huge jolt, but that may be his anxiety making everything elven times worse.

“Well thank you for riding air force two,” she salutes as Tom finally steps into the platform.

Sweet, sweet relief.

He sort of has to go take a picture or two off the viewing platform. He’s made it this far.

“She was totally into you,” Dan says, stepping in to take Tom’s mind off things.

“Was not.”

“Totally was.”

Tom rolls his eyes, “she was just being nice.”

“Sure man, sure. But she was.”

They arrive even later than Andy had predicted. It’s midnight and proof that they had dallied in Seattle for two long. This is the first time Dan has ever left the country so of course they stop and take pictures.

And then they stop and eat at the cute little cabin lodge just off the highway.

And even Andy forgets about the Noah business.

They pull into the street, disappearing from the city in the turn onto the street. It’s crazy how much of a difference a street can make. A little quiet row of houses tucked under the twinkling lights of the city lights.

Your house is a small one story thing, clearly an older home from before cookie cutter houses came into fashion, and with a certain amount of charm even with the dead plant by the doorstep: closer to a cottage than a house like something out of Snow White. There’s even a ouija board doormat that Tom thinks is completely in line with your humor and probably Noah’s as well. He just doesn’t remember much about Noah when he was alive. Last time Tom saw Noah, Noah was saying sorry to the birds. People could change.

Right?

It’s not like Noah had gone all Zodiac Killer on his friends.

The lights are off and Tom feels kind of bad that he’s about to wake you up, but he also really wants to crash in an actual bed.

Dan knocks on your door as Andy paces behind Tom.

A minute later, you peak your head out the door. Your navy blue sweater is cuffed around your hands, clearly meant for someone taller, helping to stave off the autumn chill, and grey flannel pajama pants. You rub your eyes with the back of your hand as you yawn. “You’re here,” you smile and hug Dan with one arm, “do you need any help with the bags.”

“The bags can wait until tomorrow,” Dan answers for the group, “I just want to sleep in a real bed.”

You snort, “don’t actually have a guest room,” you admit, keeping your voice down as you usher them all inside, “but I do have a pretty comfortable pull out couch and way too many quilts. I have to stop going to Victoria Island.”

Andy looks around, tense.

Tom’s a little surprised when you hug him too. “Want any food? There’s a ton of leftovers. Noah’s been stress baking. He has a bunch of exams this week.,” you say with such casualness.

“We already ate,” Dan offers, “there was this cool looking log cabin that sold me on pumpkin spice muffins.”

“Where is Noah,” Andy asks, cutting right to the quick.

You look at him pointedly as you explain, “he went to sleep early. He’s got school at like 7 am. I have no clue why. . .college was all about afternoon classes for me.”

Andy wisely, let’s it go for the moment.

You show them where things are, the couch is already extended. The TV’s sitting on a pile of textbooks with a nintendo switch right next to it.

Tom is out before his head hits the pillow.

They wake up and eat the promised leftovers as you rush to find the spare key to leave with your friends before you too have to go to work. “I would've asked for the day off like I did for the rest of the week,” you hastily explain, filling the electric kettle with water, “but it was Maureen’s birthday and I would’ve felt like such a dickhead.”

You make Dan promise to come look through the Museum you work at before it closes, and then you’re running off with a tumbler full of tea, putting a hand through your hair as if that’ll save it from looking like a mess. Tom’s unsurprised at your easy nature when they’re all imposing, making no secret of the real reason they had driven all the way to the other coast of North America.

Andy conducts a walkthrough of the house, leaving the sole bedroom of the house alone.

Dan shakes his head, flipping through the TV channels, before logging onto your netflix account, the most recent show having been played was Avatar the Last Airbender. “Anything you want to watch?”

“The good place,” Tom offers, “everyone’s always saying it's good.”

Dan shrugs. “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have netflix.”

Andy comes back with a picture frame clutched in his hand, “He’s such a dick!” Red seeping into his neck as he fumes.

Tom looks over at the picture, but it’s just a photo any normal couple would have hanging around their house: a blurry polaroid of you and Noah, each with a red solo cup at some house party, with the date, over a year ago, written on the border. He gets it, he does. And Andy’s his friend, so he nods.

Dan on the other hand, “okay. . .”

Andy disappears back down the hall. “I just don’t understand how they kept this from us! I mean-after what he did!”

Tom nods the same way he always had when his dad would start lecturing him in japanese even though his japanese is limited to whatever the japanese equivalent of Dora the explorer teaching spanish is.

“Probably so we wouldn’t freak out,” Dan offers, not looking away from the screen.

Andy marches back into the living room with a deep set frown, “Noah was fine offering us up to that monster and now they’re here playing house like nothing ever happened.” He sits down next to Tom, head in his hand. “I just don’t get it.”

He clasps a hand on Andy’s shoulder in comfort.

“Maybe they just wanted to forget as much as we did,” Dan notes quietly. “Some of us left and never really went back.” He’s talking about Lily and Lucas, who only visits during the holidays, then there’s Ava out in Arizona, busy doing field research and only going to Westchester in between jobs. Dan’s an hour away, a world away, near Stacy.

It’s really just Andy and Connor who stayed.

He’s in Pine Springs, a good hour to the west of Westchester.

“He died,” Andy grumbles out, “it could’ve easily been them, or any of us, or all of us. We’re lucky no one else did.”

Dan frowns, looking over at Andy, “I don’t like this anymore than you do. I’m not jazzed that Noah’s been back for years and we just found out. But I trust their judgement.”

“Necromancy is serious business,” Tom says, breaking the staring contest that’s started between the two friends.

Noah’s at least a little bit of a coward, as he saunters up to them, running a hand through his hair as he takes a seat at the table.

You had said this diner had the best malai kofta in the neighborhood.

He’s resting expression is still skewed towards sour, even as there’s other noticeable changes from the Noah Tom remember’s who’d kept to himself in school. His hair cut into a flattering undercut, clothes no longer on the angsty scruffy side but still decidedly casual as he opts for a dark palette, and of course, the blue eyes that seem to glow even in the afternoon light Lucas had mentioned in great detail. Noah’s clean shaven and lean, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

He only spares Tom a second’s glance before he focuses in on you, his lips quirk-ing up in a small smile. Sitting down, you lean forward expectantly as he plants a kiss on your cheek by way of greeting, before saying, “C’s make degrees right?”

“Mhm,” you nod, “but you did fine so it doesn’t matter. I ordered you the chicken and waffles. That’s what you usually get right?”

“Actually,” Noah starts, clearly about to tease you.

You shove his shoulder lightly, “beggars can’t be choosers.”

Dan extends an olive branch, “hey Noah.”

Which Andy immediately shoots down, “so it’s true.”

Tom’s only glad they’re already sitting and yeah, Noah’s a coward for meeting them in public, not that it had stopped Lucas from sucker punching him. It probably won’t stop Andy, only he’s sandwiched in between Dan and Tom and there’s no way Dan is getting up and out just so Andy can punch Noah. That’s not the kind of friend Dan is. Dan’ll take someone away to cool off, sprouting lines about being the bigger person, but Tom thinks that sometimes a punch is well earned.

Noah nods, sobering up, rating his arms on the table. “Yeah. It’s still. . . it’s still a trip nearly four years later.”

You cover his hand with yours, giving Noah’s hand a squeeze.

Now that they’re here with Noah, a burst of curiosity that’s been brewing in the back of Tom’s mind finally surges forward. “Do your eyes always glow? Or is it light a cat’s iridescence and that’s why you can read in the dark?”

“Gee, let me give you the paperwork the doctor diagnosed me with after I explained that my sister became a shadow monster and I came back to life. He was super nice and helpful about everything. We really don’t pay doctors enough.”

Andy rolls his eyes, “So are you still a monster or not.”

Noah frowns, before leading forward, gripping a glass of ice in hand pointedly, lifting it off the table, watching his own action with a sad fascination, “you can’t begin to imagine how nice it is to be solid again--to be more than a lingering ghost who can barely remember who it used to be.”

Which doesn’t answer the question but--

Some monsters were all too human for comfort. And some monstrous beings ended up friends and allies back in Pine Springs.

You and Dan walk up ahead arm in arm, chatting about everything from how cozy ll bean’s wool socks were to how you wanted to branch out and leave your job but it just couldn't be a bank, working in a cubical all day seemed like a death sentence. Dan fills you in on the news from back home and you both catch up as you walk at a leisurely pace back to your home.

Somehow, Noah manages to be patient as Tom rattles off question after question.

“Do you remember much?”

“What was it like coming back?”

“Can you do any magic thought,” he purses his lips in thought, “that doesn’t tell us much, since Ava’s out there levitating feathers.”

“Are any of your other senses better?”

“Do you have any other changes after coming back?”

“Can you speak to animals now?”

“Do you ever get a craving for human flesh?”

“Your limbs don’t fall off or anything? Right?”

“You have all your memories back?”

“Do you ever see any ghosts?”

“Can you see ghosts?”

Noah answers them patiently, if amused, as Andy skulks behind, clearly listening in on the conversation.

“How did they bring you back,” Tom finally asks, having spent countless nights researching necromancy. It had crept up in the Pine Spring’s society books, journals detail all sort of gorey accounts of their attempts to harness the power to gain power over the dead and living, but none of it had ever amounted to anything. At least in the best case.

One member had rotted away from the inside out, black mold blooming in his lungs, incurable as he choked to death after trying to raise a simple cat from the dead.

Noah tenses up, glancing over to where you’re laughing as Dan does a spot on Bernie impression about how it’s time to once again, “ask for a The man from U.N.C.L.E. sequel,” before meeting Tom’s gaze again. “You’ve formed a little club to keep the power away from people right?”

He nods, “I just-I don’t want more people to go through what we have,” he explains. They had to be proactive and learn so that no one else would stumble upon the power and exploit it to violent ends. Ava’s magic wasn’t derived from the power. Tom had double checked that. Ava’s magic was her own through her own sheer will.

But the power-that was something else entirely.

He swallows thickly.

Nothing had happened so far. And he couldn’t tell if their plan was working, or if they had gotten lucky. It had been a handful of years. But then, a decade had passed between Jane Marshall’s death and her awakening.

“And no one else ever will,” Noah says forlornly.

“Explain,” Andy says, walking up on Noah’s other side.

The man looks up at you, as you and Dan wait by the street corner for the rest of the group to catch up, and he shakes his head. “All you need to know is the power won’t be a problem again.”

Tom runs the problem over and over in his mind as they explore Vancouver and Andy continues to get digs in at Noah while Noah lets him.

He thinks about it as Andy makes everyone watch #Alive. And then Dan reminds them how obsessed everyone was with Inception when it came out. And Tom thinks about Noah’s words. And then you suggest watching something lighter: Zoolander.

Tom plays Noah’s words over in his head as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to Andy’s snores.

He puzzles over what Noah meant, why he didn’t want to bother you with it, as he drives back across the continent.

The power takes.

The power gives.

He gets it as they stop for gas in New York.

Oh, you really must love him.

Ava

Ava walks into Tom’s house out in Pine springs. It’s summer and she’s ready to spend the entire week swimming and continuing the search for a black lipstick that won’t stain. Fenty came pretty close.

There’s tons of cars in the driveway and she knows she’s the last one to get there; she always did like an entrance.

She tries the doorknob before knocking, hearing the laughter and conversation carry outside. The house is unlocked so she lets herself in; she likes to make entrances, guilty as charged, before following the sound of voices into the back porch overlooking the lake.

Tom had lucked out in buying this place during the summer the lady of the lake terrorized the town.

She’s frozen in shock when she sees Noah sitting with everyone like he hasn't been dead for over eight years. He’s sitting with an arm around you, beer in his other hand, talking with Lily, in a faded AC/DC shirt and dark jeans despite the heat.

Ava pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming.

“Ava,” Lily cries, spotting her, “you’re here.”

“What the fuck!”

Realization dawns on your face as Noah looks over at the resident goth chick who’s withered into a refined goth woman, less fishnet and more victorian mourning shirts paired with flared black and white leggings, for the first time in eight years and seven months.

“Hey Ava,” he says, lifting his hand up in greeting from where it’s resting on your shoulder.

Your face heats up, as you look at Ava, realizing you’d never gotten around to telling her. Not when you’d visited her for Thanksgiving even though she refused to participate in a propaganda holiday that “perpetuates colonialism” or the time last year when you’d gone to support her big lecture at UMississipi. It had never seemed the right time and now the time to calmly explain was gone.

“Someone explain before I light him on fire,” Ava utters, feeling heat grow in her fingertips. It was easy after years of practice. She was toying with the idea of buying a house in Salem.

Noah doesn’t even flinch.

How could he, having grown up with Jane for a sister that had gone around filling people shoes with mud and shoving people into pools with a laugh. That girl had been fearless, and Ava has long thought if she’d been an inch more scared, you and Jane never would have gone into those ruins.

It almost warms Ava’s cold dead heart.

Ha.

If Ava had sometimes been the third wheel with you and Jane, then Noah had been the ugly duckling waiting for a scrap of attention because Jane shone bright, a sunflower soaking up light, thriving on attention. Maybe Noah hadn’t been all that bothered to let his sister take the lead as kids, even as he grumbled about the trouble they were sure to get into, but neither Marshall twin had cared about anyone’s attention more than yours.

Jane had always been a limpet, her hand in yours.

Ava had been too independent even at nine to always go along with Jane, or want a friend that close.

But you didn’t just go along with Jane, you encouraged her, and dragged Noah along when Jane got too caught up in her made up games to remember to play nice. Noah who even at nine seemed clued into the fact that you were hurt that your parents were never around, something that never occurred to Jane.

So she’s not surprised that Noah and you are a thing.

Figures.

You’d kissed more than one white boy that could vaguely pass for Noah if you had enough to drink in college even if you had only dated twice and neither had been Noah Marshall knockoffs.

It’s glaringly obvious in hindsight.

What she doesn’t get is how he’s alive.

And everyone’s just cool with it.

“I thought you already knew,” Dan says.

Lily looks at you, “didn’t you tell Ava first?”

You raise a brow, “I thought Lucas told everyone?”

Lucas shrugs, wearing a suit in the summer, “I did. I just figured Ava already knew”

Stacy sips her cocktail, “awkward.”

“Wow,” Noah jokes with a grin, “you guys are terrible friends.”

Andy almost chokes on his beer, sending Noah a look that would’ve made Medusa jealous.

Danni shakes her head, “too soon dude, too soon.”

Maybe she should move into Cora’s old house. That way she could keep up with her friends' news.

How the hell did she miss Noah coming back to life.

That was metal as fuck.

She and you would have words about keeping secrets.

“Just give me the strongest drink you can make,” she says with a shake of her head, taking a seat next to Imogen, the resident mixologist.

#noah marshall #ilitw noah #noah x mc #maybe theres two left #reposting bc it didnt show up in the tags #lily's part was my favorite #toeing the line between making noah a sarcastic shit and a traumatized man and a soft boy in love #mine

61 notes · View notes

anotheronechicagobog · 4 years ago

Text

Functional Dysfunction - Rheese - Chapter 1

written by @anotheronechicagobog

A/N: This is a new series I’ve been trying to work on and I’m so happy that I’m finally done the first chapter! It’s IMPORTANT to note that this the fic I took a survey for a while back so; Sarah Reese has a double specialty of ED and Neuro. Also, it’s a bit AU so be prepared for that.

Warnings: swearing, vomit, unplanned pregnancy, talk of abortion

The waiting room was a decent size, but she still felt small. Surrounded by medical diagrams and leather couches, and pregnant women, and pregnant women with children. She felt completely out of depth and she was finding it hard to breathe. Her tunnel vision was only broken when the nurse called her name. The older woman smiled at her obvious nerves and Sarah was instantly relieved, not because of the woman’s assuring demeanour, but because she knew that if she had gone to a doctor at MED instead of Planned Parenthood, she would have instead been met with shock, judgement, and awaiting a comment from Doris.

“Dr. Singh will be with you in a few minutes.”

“Thank you.”

So Sarah laid back on the examination table in the flimsy blue paper gown with her unmentionables in the breeze, because of course, Sarah found herself in a situation where she’d need a transvaginal ultrasound instead of a pap smear. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, trying to calm herself down.

“Ms. Reese?”

“Hi.”

“Hello, I’m Dr. Singh. You believe you’re pregnant?”

“Yes, I took two home tests, I’ve been nauseous but only between two and four in the afternoon and one and four in the morning, I missed my period, I’ve been fatigued, and my breasts have been sore. And it’s... Uh, it’s Dr. Reese, actually.”

“Okay, then. Are you in your residency?”

“Halfway through my second year.”

“So you know how this works then.”

“Yes.”

“Did you bring any support? We have counsellors and resources you can use. Your mental and emotional wellbeing is just as important as your physical health.”

“I’m fine. I just want to get the pregnancy confirmed and then book an abortion. I’m in my second year of residency, the father was a one night stand, and my main source of income comes from my mother who would not approve of me having a baby out of wedlock.”

“I completely understand. Med school was hard enough for me without pregnancy and then a baby. We’re still going to have a counsellor talk to you about it beforehand, make sure that you’re making the decision for you and not for anyone else.”

“Alright, I guess.”

“Well, let’s get started, shall we?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah was right, she was pregnant. She wasn’t surprised and it didn’t change how she felt. So when she walked into her next shift she didn’t expect a concerned Maggie to approach her. “Hey Sarah, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Maggie, why? Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

“You’re pale, you haven’t been eating much lately, and you’ve been more tired lately. What’s going on Reese, are you sick? You can talk to Goodwin and she’ll give you time off.”

“I’m grateful that you’re worried about me Maggie, but I’m not sick or anything, I promise. It’s just stress.” Sarah tried and failed to tell herself that she wasn’t technically lying, but pushed that thought to the back of her mind and took in Maggie’s disbelieving demeanour.

“If you’re sure...”

“I am.” Maggie gave her a look that clearly said ‘I don’t think you’re telling the truth but your lie is plausible so I’m letting it go for now’ as she exited the doctor’s lounge, leaving Sarah alone. She took a deep breath as she put her stuff in her locker before grabbing a clean pair of scrubs. After she’d changed into them she looked into the full mirror of the dressing room, staring herself down. She willed against herself not to do it and lost. She turned to the side and placed her hands over her abdomen. She knew that the fetus inside of her was tiny, the size of a sesame seed, but... She didn’t know what she was doing, truthfully. So she shook her head and squared her shoulders before tying her hair back and walking up to the nurses’ station. “What have you got for me, Maggie?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Andrew Pierson was seventeen and optimistic, something that both she and Rhodes admired. It made their daily rounds and checkups much easier. On most days they both went at the same time so that both departments were able to get first-hand results and to prevent miscommunication. The only problem was that they were always at 3:30 pm, smack dab in the one-hour afternoon window of Sarah’s ‘morning’ sickness. She did her best to quell it in advance; ginger tea, fresh air, mindful of what she’d had for lunch, and she was always drinking water. Sometimes though, like today, morning sickness couldn’t be quelled or repressed. She and Rhodes were discussing Andrew’s latest brain scan and what his injury meant for a valve replacement, when it reared its ugly head like never before. The bile was rising up her throat, fast and hot. She stopped talking in the middle of her sentence, drawing attention from her colleague and her patient. She didn’t register dropping her tablet. She darted into the adjoining bathroom and emptied the little liquid she had in her stomach. Even after it was all out she had to sit there dry-heaving. The burning discomfort in her throat didn’t bother her like it used to, and the painful twisting in her stomach annoyed her more than anything else at this point. When the hellish nausea finally passed she was able to register that she wasn’t alone. Rhodes stood behind her, holding her hair back for her. She turned to look at him and he clearly felt unbelievably awkward, like her, but she did see worry clearly on display behind his eyes. “What’s going on, Reese? You’ve been sick all week.” She hastily got on her feet, only for Rhodes to have to steady her when her balance wavered and mind spun from doing it too fast. After she was okay enough that Rhodes could let go, she warily made her way to the sink to rinse her mouth, only to find that there was some vomit on the edges of her lips and chin, only furthering her embarrassment as Rhodes tried to make eye contact in the mirror.

“It’s nothing-”

“Okay, stop. This is not nothing, you don’t think I’ve noticed how pale and nauseous you get every day? I may have my head wrapped around for too much but I’m not an idiot. Not to mention, you literally just dropped our patient’s brain scans to vomit. You are not fine, actually, you know what? Let’s just go down to the ED, get you checked out-”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Reese, these are continual symptoms, they could be the sign of-”

“I’m pregnant.”

“... Oh.” Sarah bit out harshly, turned the water off, and left the bathroom, leaving Rhodes standing by the toilet, as she blinked back tears. The look in his eyes, the acknowledgement, the pity. She picked up her, thankfully undamaged tablet, as a demure Dr. Rhodes came to stand beside her again. “I’m very sorry Mr. Pierson, I think I ate some bad sushi yesterday. Let’s just finish our appointment and then we can get you started on your new preparation plan so that you’re ready for surgery, okay?”

“Sounds good, and I hope you feel better soon, doc.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Rhodes had spent the remainder of Andrew’s appointment standing beside her clearly shocked and somewhat muted. When they both left though, he steered her into the closest conference room he could find. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am, now if you’ll excuse me I have other patients that need my care-”

“What about you? Who’s caring for you? You’ve been really sick, and although pregnancy explains it, it doesn’t change the fact that you have concerning symptoms or that Maggie is one bathroom trip away from admitting you into the hospital herself. Because I haven’t heard anything about you in any of the gossip I’m going to assume that you haven’t told many, if any at all, people here. So is there anyone who knows? Anyone who can help you out? And what about the father? I mean you’re pregnant, you’re going to have a baby. Have you spoken to Goodwin yet? She’ll work with everyone to make sure that you’ve got everything you need-”

“Okay, stop! No one knows and I want to keep it that way. I’m not... I’m getting an abortion. And I just...” Sarah took a deep breath as she blinked her tears away. Not now, not at work, not in front of Dr. Rhodes.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay.” He stood there awkwardly, his arms hovering around her form, unsure of whether he should embrace her or not. Sarah shrugged his hand away and took a few controlled breaths. “I won’t tell anyone, but, does anybody know? And I don’t mean from work, I mean in general, do you have someone to talk to about this? Or take you to and from the procedure?”

“No but it’s fine, I’ll just call a cab after.”

“What if something goes wrong during the procedure, who are they going to call? You have to list an emergency contact.”

“I’ll be fine, everything will be fine.” Sarah took a steadying breath as she tried to quell her morning sickness, again, and stop her body from shaking. “Are you trying to reassure me? Or yourself?” Sarah honestly didn’t have an answer for that.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah cursed herself constantly over the fifteen-minute drive it took to get to Molly’s. Not only did she reveal a pretty damning secret to one of the hospital’s top surgeons, but she hadn’t been able to get out of going to the bar with the rest of the ED staff. And since Molly’s was a firefighter bar, owned by a few members of the 51st firehouse, the father of her child was most likely going to be there. She sat in her car, trying not to let the dread fill her as she stared at the ornate door of what was now her least favourite bar, not that she enjoyed drinking enough to have a favourite. She took the seat next to Maggie and tried to join in on the laughter that was being shared amongst her colleagues. But she couldn’t, she felt hot and cold all over, her breathing was tense, her chest was constricted, and her smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. The fact that Jimmy Borrelli, the father of the unborn child inside of her that he didn’t even know about, was staring at her with familiar lust-filled eyes, and that Connor Rhodes, currently the only person who knew about her pregnancy, just entered and looked at her with a mix of shock, horror, and concern, did absolutely nothing to help with her stress or her pregnancy symptoms. Rhodes made his way over to the table with a guarded look on his face. “Hey guys, how about I get the next round?”

“You’re not new anymore Rhodes, we know you’re not a complete stuck up ass, you don’t have to keep trying to bribe us.”

“Thanks for your words of kindness, Halstead, but this isn’t bribery, this is me offering beer.”

“... Fair enough, man. I think we’re all up for it.”

“Great, hey Reese, would you mind helping me carry it all over?” The meaningful look Rhodes sent made it clear he was using this as an excuse to talk to her away from their co-workers. “Sure.” She tried to sound chipper as she hopped out of her seat, but her voice was tired and it cracked partway through the word. Rhodes visibly frowned and Sarah could feel the concerned stares from her co-workers. They walked to the counter and nodded at Hermann, ready to wait until he was available. “I know that you’re... ‘Cancelling your subscription’,” he spoke lowly, mindful of all the ears around them and how fast gossip flourished among the groups present, “but you still, you know, have it. Should you be drinking?”

“I’m not. I’ve missed too many get-togethers and because of my, uh ‘binge-watching’. People, Maggie in particular are getting suspicious. And honestly, even though I’m ‘cancelling my subscription’, I can’t bring myself to do anything to harm... You know. I, uh, I don’t even drink, really.”

“Yeah, I know. Is there anything else I can get you, then?” Sarah shook her head even though her stomach had turned on her and was eating itself. The bodily organ betrayed her, making an audible growl that could be heard above the music bursting out of the speaker directly above them and the loud mixture of conversations that made nearly everything inaudible. He raised his eyebrow as she scolded herself internally and tried to ignore the warmth creeping up to her cheeks at his bemused expression. “You sure about that? How about some food? I hear that Mills has taken up working the kitchen here, the food should be good.”

“The food is great! And I’m not just saying that because I own that place.” Sarah jumped at Hermann’s voice, not knowing he’d gotten back to them.

“Would you mind showing me a menu then, Hermann? I won’t turn down free food.” Sarah nodded her head at the man standing next to her with a slight smile on her face, feeling better than she had all day if she was being honest. “Oh, is the good doctor buying again?”

“Yes I am, which reminds me, three pitchers of Coors please, and-”

“Spaghetti and meatballs.”

“And spaghetti and meatballs, please.”

“You got it. Here’s your beer, glasses for everyone, and your food’ll be brought over to you when it’s done.”

“Great.”

“And Reese?”

“Yeah?”

“Give us a good review, will ya? We could use all the help we can get to gain some traction for the kitchen.”

“You got it.”

Sarah eyed the tower of glasses she had in her right hand, concentrating far more than necessary if she was being honest, to make sure that she didn’t drop them. When Sarah set the glasses and full pitcher down she took the opportunity to look around the tables at her colleagues. Everyone had gone back to their conversations, and weren’t regarding her with caution, except for Maggie and Manning. They shared a look with each other, then her. “I’m fine, promise.” They shared another look with each other before discreetly taking her hands into theirs. “We don’t believe you.”

#One Chicago #chicago med #Chicago Fire #Sarah Reese #connor rhodes x sarah reese #connor rhodes #maggie lockwood #Natalie Manning #jimmy borrelli #will halstead

19 notes · View notes

bramblepeltao3 · 4 years ago

Text

Hey why am I still doing this?? This has become my ‘just for fun’ little thing I go to when I’ve finished doing all the other writing stuff! And it’s become just stupid fun for me.

So then, on to more Prince Prompto AU of my AU fic specifically!

Prompto felt his heartbeat quicken. They were here. Facing the Lucian royal family. He, as the Prince, stood at the front of the procession. He knew what he was supposed to do. He practiced several times on the train ride over, and he got it perfect a couple of times. He could do this.

Prompto bowed slightly towards King Regis and Prince Noctis. “The Empire of Niflheim thanks you for your hospitality. We hope that with this extension of good will, we can forge a future of peace and prosperity between our nations.” Nailed it. Prompto stood back up, perhaps a bit too quickly, and saw a look of humor on Noctis’ face.

….did he mess up? Did he say something wrong and sound stupid? Was his shirt on inside out?!

Prince Noctis took a few steps forward, closing the distance between them.

“Nice to finally meet you.” He said, extending his hand.

Prompto felt his face flush. This was...less than formal. Not as he was coached to expect. He offered his hand as well, and Noctis quickly took it with a crooked smile. There was applause from behind, the crowd of Insomnians who had come to see the display were cheering but they sounded so very far away. It felt like it was just them. Prince Noctis and himself.

He didn’t deserve to be here. His ears began to pound with the sound of his pulse. The King was saying something, Prompto couldn’t hear it. His throat suddenly felt very dry and he wanted nothing more than to reach out to Doctor Del and ask for help. Make the dizziness and nausea and hotness on his cheeks go away.

“See you at the party, then.” Prince Noctis said with a wave, turning and following his father back into the palace.

“Good job, Shortcake.” Aranea was then at his side.

Oh. It was over. He did it? He turned to see the others, hoping for further validation of his success.

Loqi was standing at attention, no sign of approval or disappointment on his face. And Del was...angry?

“No one said anything about a party.” She sneered.

“Awe, what’s wrong lemon tart, didn’t bring a ball gown?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m sure a doctor isn’t important enough to be in attendance.”

“Not a doctor, perhaps.” Loqi said, in a very strange way.

“I’d really like it if we could all be there!” Prompto found himself saying out loud by accident. It was true. He needed everyone he could get to stay by his side. “I mean, I bet the dinner will be really good. I’d hate for anyone to miss it.”

Del’s face softened with a smile. “Of course we’ll all be there, Prompto.”

“Guess we’re going dress shopping then.” Aranea shrugged. “You boys are lucky, you can get away with your military and royal regalia. Us girls tend to be held to a higher standard.”

“Yeah, I’m not-”

“Hey you, you look like someone who knows things.” Aranea pointed at a young, well dressed man. “Where can a girl get a party dress around here?”

Prompto’s mind was flooded with his crash course in etiquette and felt himself jumping into damage control.

“My apologies for my shield, Sir.”

The young man smiled, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and nodded. “Ignis Scientia, royal advisor to Prince Noctis. No need for apologies, your grace.” Prompto felt his throat close up. How many ways could they possibly mess this up before they were all kicked out in shame?

Ignis turned to Aranea and Del. “If you’re looking for a gown for this evening’s event, I know the perfect establishment of tailors who are more than capable. Allow me to call you a car.”

“Commodore, Doctor, I will happily esco-”

“No way, Loqi.” Del frowned.

“Yeah, you’re not going anywhere. You need to stay here with the Prince and make sure he doesn’t trip on his shoelaces or something.” Aranea emphasized her point with a harsh stab of her finger to Loqi’s head.

“But...these boots don’t even have laces…” Prompto said, looking down to check just in case.

Ignis hung up his cellular phone and approached their little party once again. “Ladies, I have informed your escort where to take you. And should you wish to see any other parts of our lovely city, please feel free. You are in safe hands.”

The advisor bowed to them, then Prompto, and left with a smile.

He seemed nice. Prompto hoped he’d be there this evening as well.

“...why didn’t you yell at him?” Loqi asked. “He addressed you as ladies! Aren’t you-”

“Oh put a sock in it Loqi.” Del rolled her eyes.

“It’s different. Obviously.” Aranea said with a smirk.

A shiny black car pulled around and stopped by the curb.

“Looks like our ride, Doc.” Aranea coiled her arm around Del’s, pulling her towards the vehicle. “You boys be good! Auntie Nea and Auntie Del will be back soon!”

Prompto watched in stunned silence as Aranea dragged his doctor into the back seat of the car, the door shutting behind them. He hoped they’d have fun. They both worked so hard for him, they deserved a break. And pretty dresses.

---

Cor really should have seen this coming, but somehow he was still blindsided. Scientia called asking for a high security escort for two of the Imperial diplomats. Well, it didn’t get more high security than the Marshal. And with the flurry of preparations and excitement, he needed a moment away to refocus.

An hour to drive a couple of diplomats to some store downtown, wait in the car, and drive them back. Easy.

Easy until he took a look in the rearview mirror and immediately recognized the blonde woman sitting right behind him. She was scowling, exactly like he remembered her.

“Awe come on lemon tart-”

“Quit calling me that!”

“Doctor tart then, listen, I know you’ve never been involved in politics before but if you’re planning on staying by Shortcake’s side it’s time to get used to it.”

“I’m just a doctor.”

“And tonight you’re a doctor in a fancy dress charming all the eligible bachelors Lucis has to offer.” The other woman seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in needling her.

Brave of her, that.

“Speaking of, I’m not seeing a ring on our escort’s finger.”

Oh she was very brave. And just as much a pain.

“Aranea, leave him alone.”

“What’s your story, Driver? Excited to watch two young women play dress up?”

“ARANEA!”

“We’re here.” Cor said, thanking the Astrals for the small blessing. He was ready to simply sit there quietly, wait for them to finish their shopping, and hope the tinted windows did their job. But then he just had to take one more look into the rearview mirror, and there was that little girl’s face again. Looking scared, just like she did the last time he saw her.

Shit.

Just rip the bandage off, it was going to happen eventually. Best to get it out of the way somewhere far away from the paparazzi.

Cor stepped out of the car and opened the rear door, standing with all the respect he’d show to any important guest of the crown.

Del stood up, looked at the store, and then a tree planted in the middle of the sidewalk, then the sky before looking up at him.

For a moment her face didn’t change. Then realization must have struck, because her eyes went wide. And her brow furrowed. And her shoulders raised up.

“Quit dragging your feet, Doc, the longer you mope the longer this’ll take.” Aranea dragged her away and into the store before she had a chance to start screaming. “Wow your face got red. I mean sure he’s hot, but he’s twice your age. You can do better.”

He followed them in. If nothing else he needed to make sure this place was genuinely secure. There were whispers of citizens not too happy with the possibility of getting chummy with Niflheim. The last thing Reggie needed was an international incident right on the precipice of treaty negotiations.

Cor stood at attention next to the door, watching as young sales people hungry for a commission off the royal account bombarded the two women with measuring tape and color swatches. Del looked like she was in hell. His presence probably wasn’t helping the matter.

Aranea was the first to emerge from the fabric tornado, sporting something barely meeting the dress code as it barely contained fabric.

“Hey flaunt it while you still got it, right Doc?” She called back to the other changing room as a young man showed her jeweled accessory pieces. “You’re being awfully quiet, you know?”

“And you’re being awfully obnoxious!” Del screeched, pulling the curtain back. “No I don’t need shapewear, what the fuck is that? I’ll wear whatever shape I have, fuck.” She was wearing a very sensible green gown.

“Awe look at you, Lemon Tart, so modest. So practical. No fun.”

“Yeah I guess you can call what you’ve got going on fun.”

“What do you think, Mr. Driver?” Aranea grabbed Del around the shoulders, pulling her right next to her side so they were both facing him. “Think she’ll be the belle of the ball?”

Del was staring at the floor with a fierce determination.

“No comment? Smart guy.” Aranea chuckled.

Cor moved his gaze over to a tailor sewing glittering embellishments to a bright pink gown. It looked like something meant for a very young girl. Incredibly gaudy. One of the small rubies fell from the dress.

...but it stopped. And moved-

It wasn’t a gem.

“Get down!” He yelled, rushing the two women and forcing them to the ground right as he heard the glass window shatter and two of the sales clerks scream.

“Shit.” Aranea’s eyes darted around, seeming to be searching for the gunman based on the trajectory of the bullet that barely missed them.

Cor opened the emergency channel on his ear piece. “Coyote on 3rd and Grace Street. I have two ducklings unharmed and a store full of civilians. Requiring backup.”

“Heard, Red Drake. Backup en route.”

“Ducklings? Really?” The older woman joked, helping him drag the trembling doctor behind a sales counter as another shot went off.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t come up with the system.” That was all Reggie.

“What’s the plan, Driver? Cause unless our killer is a gold medal sprinter it looks like there’s at least two of them. If we stay here we’re sitting duck- oh, I get it. Funny. Doc you’ve gotta pull yourself together.”

Cor looked down at Del who was folded in on herself, hands grasping through her own hair and trembling.

“Hey, kid.” He said, gripping her shoulder. She looked up at him, terror naked in her eyes. “You’re going to be okay. I’m getting you out of here.”

The irony of his words were not lost on him.

The store manager joined them, removing her jacket and rolling up her sleeves. “There’s an emergency exit through the break room, it leads into the same hallway as the other stores. There’s an elevator too, goes all the way to the roof.” She gestured for them to follow, taking cover behind clothing racks and display cases.

“Sounds like you’ve done this before.” Cor commented.

She chuckled. “I’ve worked here for decades, since I was a teenage sales clerk, I have seen some shit.”

Cor made a note to make sure she was commended officially for it.

The break room door slammed shut once everyone was safely inside. The manager, who introduced herself as Marigold, got to work moving the table in front of the door.

“What are the chances our killers know about the access hallway?” Cor asked, helping with the barricade.

“It’s there specifically so the clientele don’t have to think about us as people who have lives outside of their consumer needs.” One of the men said. “So unless they work in one of these shops, unlikely.”

“Not like we planned ahead to be here, either.” Aranea offered. “In fact...the only person who would’ve known we were here was that Ignis guy.”

“Scientia? If he had a stake in extending the war he has a funny way of showing it.” No one was closer to the Prince than his advisor, and a war running into Noctis’ reign would bring him nothing but pain. “More likely someone’s been following since you arrived and waited for their chance.”

“Shit, this glass is really stuck.” A very young woman cried out, trying to pull a large shard from her arm.

Del immediately snapped out of her panic and rushed over to her. “Please tell me there’s a first aid kit in here.” She took the woman’s arm, shooing her hand away from pulling at the glass.

“Just one, and it’s very old…” The male sales clerk got the white box from a cabinet and handed it to her.

“As long as there’s tweezers and gauze, I’m good.”

“Oh wow, you’re actually a doctor.” Marigold laughed.

“I’m going to check the hallway, make sure no one’s waiting for us.” Cor reached into Reggie’s armiger, choosing a pistol in place of his blade. He opened the door.

“Cor!” Del yelled, gripping a bandage to the girl’s arm. Her green dress was covered in blood stains that most assuredly would never come out. “Don’t you-”

“I’m coming back, Del.” He said flatly. Maybe don’t run off anywhere this time.

The hallway was well lit with hard flooring. After several minutes of no shadows or footsteps, Cor was satisfied.

He turned his ear piece on. “Status update.” He whispered.

“One coyote down, two confirmed on the run.”

“Can we get an evac on the roof?”

“Negative, Red Drake, too many rocks in the pond, stay put until cleared.”

The door behind him creaked open, Aranea slipping through.

“Not sounding like good news there, Driver.”

“Listen, I have two ducklings and four civilians that need to get to safety. Send an eagle to the roof of the Statler building for immediate evac. That’s an order.” Cor switched off the receiver.

Aranea’s face fell into a look of suspicion. “Funny, on our way in I could have sworn I saw the word Nelson.”

“You did. It’s a decoy.” He tapped his earpiece. “If I’m right, our assassins are tapping our communications. They’ll think we transferred to the building next door and wait for us there. In the meantime, we’re taking the elevator to the fifth floor. There’s a walkway connection to the fine arts center. From there we make our way to the auditorium.”

“Oh? And then what?”

Cor smirked. “Dress rehearsal.”

---

Somehow, some way, the piece of absolute stupid idiot garbage got them out. And thank the Gods too, because Del wasn’t sure how to say the girl needed a hospital. The bandage was only doing so much and it wouldn’t be long before her wound bled through.

Cor flashed his fancy badge, got them into the costume room, and for the second time that day Del was forced to play dress up. This time with hats and wigs! Fun!

She was fuming. Having to rely on him again...after what he did? And he had the absolute balls to say “I’m coming back.” Like?!

Fuck him. He was an even bigger dickhead than she’d remembered. And she remembered everything so that was a hell of a feat.

“Oh, a shame. This was my personal pride of the season.” Marigold sighed, holding the ruined green dress.

“Send the bill to the Citadel, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Think there’s anything you can lend out for a royal ball in six hours?” The asshole moron asked.

“Seriously?!” Del screeched after finishing getting into a weirdly form fitting newsboy costume. “Some fuckos just tried to put a bullet in our heads and you expect us to go mingle with canapes like nothing happened?”

“What did I say, Doctor Tart? Politics. Get used to it.” Aranea was somehow completely cool headed in some gaudy bright retro outfit.

“Nothing about this can get out, the last thing we need is any more tremors in this shaky situation.” Fuckhead McGee said.

“Understood. Shame about that armed robbery in our store.” Marigold shrugged her shoulders like it was nothing.

She looked at her staff who all nodded in agreement.

“Are you all batshit?!” Del screamed. “We’re supposed to act like that wasn’t an assassination attempt on our lives?”

“Delphia, listen to me.” Aranea took her shoulder and turned to face her. “We both want the same thing: to protect Prompto. Anything less than a perfect visit is only going to raise tensions for both sides. Not to mention, Prompto would freak if he knew we were almost killed. So here’s our story: Driver got lost on the way to the boutique. The robbery happened before we arrived, and the guard went overboard in trying to protect us. We’re wearing dresses from the robbed store tonight to show our support and hope for the business to recover.”

“You’ve done this before.” Shithead said.

“I’ve had a lot of free time to read spy thrillers.” Aranea replied coolly.

“I’m sure I have some perfectly exquisite pieces in my personal collection that should fit. Ooh, we could advertise a throwback collection for the fall!” Marigold cheered.

“YOU! YOU...YOU YOU…” Del pointed at Aranea, feeling completely unable to voice any of the thoughts screeching around in her head.

“Del, please calm down, the people responsible will be taken care-”

That was it. She spun around and slapped the Marshal across the face.

“YOU DON’T GET TO TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!” You lying shitty child abandoning piece of enabling gods damned shit fuck ass bastard!

He seemed unphased by her attack. Aranea though looked like Del had just kicked an innocent puppy into an oncoming train.

“Alright. Get it out.” He said.

Oh, she was done. Completely fucking done. He just shows up, acts like the big fucking hero, pretends like he didn’t ditch her, and then dictates the terms of her emotional breakdown?!

Fuck.

This.

“Fuck you.” She said, emphasizing her point with a finger in the air.

Cor nodded. “We’re going to take the front entrance, it leads out to a courtyard. Plenty of trees, bushes, a large pool down the middle, and lots of cover. We make it across the courtyard and we’ll be on a Crownsguard HQ doorstep. I’ll have a better grasp of the situation, and we’ll figure it out from there.”

The nerve. The fucking nerve.

“Come on Newsie, Prompto needs you.” Aranea took her by the arm.

“Were the accessories really necessary?” Del asked, noticing the fishnet gloves, knee socks, and neon colored plastic jewelry.

“It ties the outfit together.” She replied, pulling her in step at the end of the line. “Now, you wanna tell me why you’re so familiar with the Immortal, or do I have to abandon all the trust we’ve been building up?”

Shit.

Fuck.

“He infiltrated my father’s facility when I was a kid. I was stupid and naive and trusted everything he said. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Aranea seemed to be rolling that answer around. “And you knew he was a Lucian operative?”

“I was six, what do you want from me? Anyway, he lied and bailed on me. Didn’t get anything he was after either so it was a big waste of time for everyone.”

“...hm. Wonder what it was he was after?” Aranea asked, acting like the very much not rhetorical question was one.

Oh, you know, just baby Prompto. Normal shit.

“We’re here. Keep your heads down and ears open. We’re going to be alright.”

Del scoffed quietly.

“Wonder why these guys are targeting us instead of the Prince?” Aranea whispered.

“Opportunity knocked, I guess.” Del shrugged. All this for a shitty dress.

“I’m just saying, Lucian terrorists need to get their priorities in check.”

“You’re sure they’re Lucian?” Del whispered. Aranea’s face broke into a wide smirk.

“Clever girl.”

“You feel it too.”

“This entire mission was doomed from the start.”

“Why else would anyone put Loqi in charge?”

Aranea chuckled in spite of herself, and the sound inspired Del to laugh in turn.

“Oh Gods, we’re so fucked.” Del whispered.

“WATCH IT!”

In a rush of air and movement that blew her hat off, hair tumbling back down, Cor was by her side with his blade unsheathed and held in front of her eyes.

She heard a soft ‘clink’ before he lowered it. Her vision came back into focus in time to see a splatter of blood in the distance.

“Was tha….did you…?”

“Run.” Cor barked, grabbing her around the wrist and pulling her back towards a line of trees.

“Either your Glaive suck at their job, or there’s a lot of people here who want us dead!” Aranea yelled while guiding the shop workers to cover.

“At this point I’m willing to assume both.” Cor positioned his blade to use as a mirror, checking for any sign of further danger behind them. “Aranea, think you can get them-”

“Way ahead of you, Driver.” From their position, she could easily lead the others behind cover with only a short sprint left to get them to the station.

But Cor and Del had a large gap of open space.

“I’m not asking you to trust me.” Cor started, his blade dissipating in a spark of magic.

Oh that was rich, super rich.

“But I need you to do exactly as I say, and you will get back alive.”

“That’s LITERALLY asking me to trust you!” Del hissed between her clenched teeth.

“Right. Well, I have one question. Can you swim?”

Del blinked. “What? No…”

“That’s unfortunate.” Cor tightened his grip on her wrist, and before she could protest he was pulling both of them down, using the momentum to roll over. She was then wrenched back upwards on her feet and pushed backwards, stumbling until she fell. Right off of an edge.

And into the pool.

She wasn’t lying, she really didn’t fucking know how to swim. Everything was dark, she couldn’t tell which way was back up, and she was reaching peak panic until her wrist was once again being pulled. Over, over, until she felt her lungs would burst and then finally, up.

“Take a deep breath.” Cor commanded.

She wanted to screech and curse and slap him again but instead she obeyed and inhaled. He dragged her back down, much further. She didn’t know what else to do. She simply let him pull her on until once more everything in her chest burned and her mind began to spiral and then-

Her head was above water once again, Cor holding her up under her armpit and slowly guiding her out of the pool.

Del wiped her hair from her eyes to see a large number of people in uniforms surrounding them.

“Marshal, Sir.” A woman in a helmet said. “We’ve done a thorough sweep, land and air. The last identifiable terrorist has been neutralized.”

Del struggled to breathe, feeling like she might just pass out right there sitting on the ledge of the pool.

“Thanks Monica, get our guests a ride back to the Citadel. I’m sure they’d like some time to freshen up before the party.”

Oh.

Oh, Del was going to kill him.

2 notes · View notes

wordynerdygurl · 5 years ago

Text

Costumes & Kittens

Summary: You convince Loki to dress up for a Halloween party and then enjoy a private after party.

Loki x Reader

Warning: SMUT, Funny, Loving Loki

"Are you really going to put on a costume?" Sarcasm dripped from every syllable Loki uttered over the idea.

"Heck yes! And you are too! Right?... Right?" But the look on Loki's handsome face explained exactly what he thought of the idea. Begging him you continued, "Oh, come on! It's so fun!! You get to be someone... or something else for a night."

Waiting for the walk signals to change, Loki looked up and down the street but not at you while saying, "I understand the custom. The appeal of it... but isn't this just child's play? Nonsense?"

You shrugged. "So what if it is? What's so wrong with letting your inner child out to play?"

"My inner child is a miniature frost giant with daddy issues and a desire to conquer... I don't think that's a costume one buys at Target, dearest."

You laughed, he wasn't wrong, really. "No, I guess not... but maybe you're looking at this all wrong. Maybe the question is, 'If Loki Odinson could be anything, what would he be?' Ya know what I mean?"

Shrugging Loki replied, "Anything? I'd be King of Asgard. Or the Universe."

"Be serious for a minute?" It's a tiny bit exasperating trying to explain these kind of things to Loki.

"Serious about a children's fancy dress party?" His eyebrows lifted archly.

"No. Serious about the question. What does Loki want to be when he grows up?" Punching his strong arm playfully, you drive the point home by batting your long lashes at The God of Mischief. He pulls you into a one armed embrace and kisses you sweetly.

"You know I'm over a thousand years old, right? I'm technically over grown at this point." Loki reminds you as he pulls open the door to your favorite restaurant.

"Funny, you don't look a day over 800." Loki nods, chuckling at your quick wittedness. You lean against him, waiting for the hostess to acknowledge your famished existence.

"So, you're going to dress as what, exactly?" Curiosity had Loki caught in its web. Reaching up on tiptoes you kiss his cheek and reply, "That, my dear, is a surprise, unless you want to do a couples costume? Like Doc and Marty... or Westley and Buttercup?" Loki scrunched his nose up.

"Ok. Too soon... so, what about you? Any ideas of what you'd like to be?" The pair of you are flirting like a teenagers as the restaurant hostess finally smiled at you. Leaning into your neck Loki nips your ear gently then husks, "The man who makes your quim quiver."

"How many?" The hostess, slightly put out by your public display, is looking at you with impatient eyes. Your mouth has gone dry with lust so Loki answers, "Just two, dear."

---

"This party is amazing!" You shout to Wanda over the pulsing music. She looked so cute as a rainbow unicorn, her golden horn bobbing in time with the 'Monster Mash'.

"You look so good! Oh my goodness, how funny!" Doubling over, Wanda was in tears at your costume, and you had to admit it was pretty hilarious. "Nat! Come here!"

"Noooo! This is great!! Loki's gonna lose it!" Natasha clutched her flapper's boa closer as she giggled.

"Thank you guys! I worked really hard on it!" You were incredibly proud of your look tonight. Black boots laced over your calves to your knees. The armour you'd pieced together from leather scraps and duct tape hugged your torso in green and gold flaring into a matching skirt. The best part was the flowing emerald cape that had started life as a satin sheet but now followed behind you like a green shadow.

Recreating Loki's horned crown had taken weeks of meticulous papier mache, sand paper and gold spray paint but damn, you felt like Asgardian royalty. Did Loki have this sense of power all the time? You shivered a little at the thrill of it.

Knocking back a long swig of your beer, laughing at Sam and Bucky dressed in those tuxedos from Dumb and Dumber, you realized this party was in full swing. Maybe that's why you were taken by surprise when a low, familiar voice crooned in your ear, "My queen."

Spinning on your heeled boots, you found Loki at your side, hands behind his back, smirk firmly in place. His eyes swept over you, taking in the details of your costume with a raised eyebrow, causing blue flames of excitement to curl low in your belly. You felt a creeping blush rise over you and channelling your inner God of Mischief you defiantly raised your chin Loki's direction.

"Yes... kitten?" Now, Loki called you kitten almost everyday, and it never failed to make you purr. Tonight, you used the endearment because the Trickster was dressed in a jet black three piece suit, black shirt and tie, with two tiny ebony cat ears on his head. His cheshire grin didn't hurt his ensemble at all.

"You look... well, almost as good as I do in that suit." His tone is light but you read a touch of approval in the mix. With a hand over his heart, Loki adds, "I'm honored that you went to all this trouble, little one."

Feeling emboldened by the role you're dressed for, you look down your nose at Loki, just like you'd seen him do countless times before. "Trouble? Not at all. This was something I had lying around. I thought these mortals would appreciate seeing a goddess in all her splendor."

Laughing, Loki replies, "Well you are certainly fearsome, my lady. And may I say, you have excellent taste."

You laugh too, "You may! Come on, let's get you a drink!" Grabbing Loki's hand in yours you pull him towards the bar. The crowd thins a bit as you get further from the music so it's easier to chat. Once you each have a cold beer, you perch on the countertop while Loki leans against the kitchen counter, again looking you over.

"I would be a beautiful woman." He stated wistfully. You snort, almost spitting up your suds. "I don't know about that, but you're a pretty sexy cat, Loki." You reached out and flicked one of the furry ears.

After a sip from his bottle Loki counters, "Of course I am." Curling his free hand into a claw, he does his best feline impression, "Meow!"

With a wide smile you casually say, "You dressed up. I wasn't sure you would."

"You said I could be anyone or anything." Loki's lip lifted into a knowing half smile. Nodding, you concede, "I did." Clinking the necks of your beer bottles together you flash Loki a slow smile. You draw your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at your black kitty cat, practically purring yourself. Loki watched your mouth move, his own lips parting slightly, as he leaned towards you.

You closed your eyes in anticipation of Loki's lip lock when you heard, "Reindeer Games! That is not an acceptable costume!! You can't just wear your battle gear..."

Tony stopped short when he saw your head snap around, golden horned crown bobbing slightly with your movement. Loki peeked at the intruder over your gossamer green shoulder. "Oh. My mistake. Great outfits. Party on." And with that Iron Man, dressed in a perfect replica of Elton John's glitter baseball uniform, swiped a bottle of vodka, and swaggered towards the noise.

"Wanna dance?" You're hopeful that he'll say yes because Loki is great on the dance floor, and he knows it. Grabbing you each a fresh beer, Loki nods, "Yes, my liege." And you laugh again at his deference to your implied title. "Then let's go!" Impatiently you stride back to the waiting crowd of friends singing and partying the night away.

The night passes in a blur of dancing, drinks and laughter. Everyone gets a kick out of you as Loki. You play up the role, ordering people to kneel like he would usually do, cracking sarcastic comments and snide remarks with regularity. You're overconfident and you're high on the bossy bitch this get up brings out in you.

"Kitten, grab me another, will you?" Rubbing under his chin like you'd do to a real little black kitty cat, you stroke one of Loki's velvet ears sweetly before brushing a kiss over his lips. He moans softly at your gentle petting and murmurs, "I think this kitten is ready to call it a night, darling."

You catch his eye and see what he's really saying. It's bedtime, not lights out, something that causes a blush to rise over you. Swaying away from Loki you tease, "You got it, cool cat."

Goodbyes take forever because all of you are well over the tipsy line. Wanda squeezes you for five minutes, unwilling to part from you, trying to tell you a story that she swears is hilarious but you just can't seem to follow. Tony tries to steal your crown but you wrestle it away just in time, blocking Steve from snatching it back again. You wave at Natasha but she's got Bucky pinned under her on the sofa, his orange top hat perched on her head and his hands on her ass.

Loki was waiting for you at the elevator, doors open. "How did you leave everybody?"

"Natasha and Bucky are totally hooking up tonight!" It spilled out of you with a drunken laugh as you stepped inside the mirrored moving cube. Pushing the down button with a skeptical smile Loki asked, "Really? Any other odd couples come out your costume convention?"

Suddenly serious, you step into Loki's space saying, "I'm going home with a black cat. That's fairly odd, since, ya know... I'm allergic to cats."

"I promise you, this tom cat is hypoallergenic. No mangy fur... no troublesome litter box." Boxing Loki against the reflective wall, your eyes lock on his ice blue ones, "And is he well behaved? I don't want a naughty kitty in my bed."

Swallowing thickly, Loki husked, "Maybe just a little." You pushed your body into his, collapsing the space between you, kissing along his throat. Loki lifted his chin with a hungry moan as you nipped his Adam's apple, leaving your mark on his pale skin. Grazing your lips over his strong jaw you make sure to pay extra attention to that sensitive spot just under his ear, where tendon and muscle meet.

"Good kitty." Your whispered praise makes Loki blush faintly, his trousers tighter now, as his body responds to your devious teasing. Pushing away from him when the elevator dings, you clasp his hand and drag an excited Loki into the night air.

With your heavy boots and swirling cape it seems like your stride has widened. There's a power in you that dressing like The Trickster has released and it made you feel other wordly. If you were behaving like your god, cocksure and dominate, then Loki was a mewling furball right now, content to be led wherever you went. You lace your hand to Loki's and start steering you both through the neighborhood, back to your home.

It takes a little bit longer than normal as the streets are full of Halloween party people enjoying the chance to be different for a night. You have your keys ready so it takes no time to slip it into your lock. As you bend over, ready to turn the knob, you feel Loki at your back. His strong hands roam over your hips tugging you into his hard, honed body.

"Uh uh little kitten. It's not time to play just yet." You admonish him while forcing him to release you. "Darling!" It was a whine. You'd never heard Loki beg before and the sound of it made your core clench, unchecked excitement coursing through you. Stepping inside, finally, you didn't pause for a drink or a trip to the ladies room. No, you stomped right into your bedroom, Loki in tow.

There's a moment right before snowflakes start their fall when all the world waits in quiet silence for the flurry to begin. A beat, maybe two, where the balance of nature breathes before being tipped one way or another.

This night, when you faced Loki across your soft carpeted floor, dressed in a replica of his armor, you felt that peaceful pause. Loki stood beside your closed door, eyes snapping with unreleased heat, looking sweet as homemade sin, in that black double breasted suit with pointed pussy cat ears and a hungry grin.

To him you looked like a vision come to life. Where Loki was long and angled hidden in that leather and steel, you were curvy and soft. The corseted costume accentuating your bust, those tall boots lengthening your legs, even the helmet looked sexy and dangerous framing your sweet face.

"Loki..." Reaching out a hand to him, you felt the world tip into frenzy as the flurry started.

It took him two steps to reach you. One hand wrapped around your waist, tucking you into Loki's side, the other curled around your neck, supporting it, as your mouths met. Feasting on your lips like a starving man, Loki deepened the kiss when he buried his hand in your hair and pulled your head back firmly. You felt his other hand brush over your ass cheek before Loki squeezed down hard.

Moaning, "Loki... Loki..." you were being driven out of your mind by his talented tongue. His hand followed the hem of your skirt and you moaned when you felt Loki's fingers slide under the elastic leg of your panties.

Placing a flat palm against Loki's chest, you push away from his embrace. He lunges for you once more but you wiggle free of his grasp, cheeks enflamed and breathing hard. You stop to straighten your helmet before asking, "Little kitten... your goddess has a question for you. Why is no one licking my thighs?"

Loki growls, sounding like an actual rabid animal, as he stalks over to where you're standing by the bed. He shoves you down to the mattress, following you into the soft surface, and kisses you deeply again.

"Be gentle, little kitten..." You teasingly remind the dark prince who is laying between your parted knees. Looking down at you like a cornered mouse, your black cat promises, "You're going to find out that kitties have claws, lovey."

Without pausing, Loki's palms push roughly over your long leather boots. You sigh when his rough skin connects with the smooth satin of your inner thighs. He follows the path blazed by his hands with his moving mouth. A lick, teeth tasting, thumbs kneading, trailing closer to your apex, warm and wet and waiting. Loki switches sides, searing his route to your molten core into your memory.

Reaching for him, you run your hands through his long dark locks, fingers connecting with those little furry triangle ears. You groan when Loki yanks down your underpants, pulling them free over your footwear. Echoing your need, Loki chuckles, "Look at this... my queen, wet and writhing before me. Being me for a night did this?"

Eager to get Loki back to business you counter, "Yes... it feels... amazing."

Rich laughter bounces around your bedroom as Loki says, "It certainly does! Listen, I really like this suit, so give me a moment, won't you darling?"

Sitting up on your elbows, cape bunched beneath you, legs open obscenely you stare at Loki, already loosening his tie. "Um... your queen is NOT ok with taking a break. Get over here and finish what you started!"

One arm free from his dark coat, Loki freezes. "To do that I need to be unencumbered by these clothes, my lady."

Huffy now, you grumble something about rotten timing and shimmy your skirt off without leaving the bed. Loki's shirt buttons are abandoned as he watches you, naked below the waist, corset and cape still shrouding you, helmet on but askew. It's ridiculous and righteously sexy.

"I'm just gonna do it myself. Don't worry Loki, I've got it." You move your hand down your soft tummy, closer to your throbbing clit, anticipating the firmness of your arousal.

"Wait! That's not fair!" He has one leg out of his trousers, hopping around, trying to get them off so he can get back to getting you off.

"Fair schmair, kitty cat." Your fingers spread your lower lips, sweetly dipping into your wetness, the friction making you shiver. Loki, naked except for those ears, locked a tight hand over your wrist. "Allow me."

You try to shrug him off but Loki is able to bring your hand to his lips. Slowly he draws those tasty fingers into his warm mouth savoring your flavor. Blue eyes piercing yours, Loki drops your hand, saying "Now... my troublesome little dictator, this kitty thinks you need a tongue bath."

It's your turn to growl. Loki's strong hands fan over your hips, sliding seductively over your legs. You gasped when he jerked your booted knees over his broad shoulders bringing your liquid center closer to his hungry mouth. Exhaling a hot breathe against your aching cunt, Loki chuckled lowly as you thrust forward, searching for his touch.

Your sigh of frustration turned into a squeal of pleasure when Loki licked firmly through your drenched skin. Flicking his tongue over your clit with tiny licks, like a cat lapping at milk, Loki had you near to climax in minutes. His cat ears tickled the rarely touched place where your pelvis meets your thigh, sending shivers through you. With a rough bite to your straining nub, he pulled away. "Loki! Keep going!", you practically shouted.

But you needn't have bothered. Slowly circling your fleshy pearl, Loki drew it between his soft lips, sucking lightly. You bucked against this delicious torment but Loki's grip on you tightened. His thumbs opened your dripping slit, giving him full access to plunder your depths with his articulate fingers.

Rocking your hips against Loki's hand, his mouth still taking nips and nibbles of you, your orgasm gains power. Your breathing catches, happy hums streaming out of you, as your inner walls tighten around Loki's driving digits. "Loki...... I'm going to cum..." It's a warning and a promise.

"Oh, sweetling, let go. Let me feel the power of your pleasure!" When Loki pressed down on your clit while curling his fingers against your velvet walls you lost your battle with control. First your muscles locked together in glorious, bone cracking tension, then you fell apart like a puppet with cut strings.

Loki stroked your silken skin through your climax, easing your body back to earth. Instead of stealing your energy, your release made you want more. Rolling up onto your knees you reach for your little kitten, tangling a hand in his ebony locks, before forcing your lips together.

You rush your hands down Loki's strong core, over the corded muscles of his abdomen, stopping at the heavy length of his cock. Through gritted teeth Loki sighs, "Careful darling."

"Would you be careful, my kitty cat? I don't think so." Sliding your soft palm along his steel length, you add a touch of pressure, and rub your thumb across his glistening head. Stroking Loki, you kiss him again, your tongue working against his mouth to the same rhythm as your hand.

Loki breaks your grip with a strained groan. "Inside you. I have to be inside you.", he whispers as he drops his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes.

Tenderly you sigh, "Fuck, Loki. That's hot."

Smiling broadly, he nods, "I know, Right?"

Before you can respond, Loki's laid himself on your bed, back resting upon the headboard, his erection proud and ready. "Come here!" Patting his lap, excitement evident, he's in a rush for you to join him.

Pausing to unzip the restricting corset you've been in all night, you let it and the satin cape slide off your shoulders but you keep the boots on. Loki's eyes drink in your gorgeous body, his bottom lip held in anticipation. You reach up to remove the paper helmet hugging your brow only to stop when Loki hummed, "Keep it on."

Giggling softly you nod. There's something carnal about your near nudity which makes you feel emboldened. It's that same power you had in Loki's costume, the feeling of infinite possibilities, all uniting for you. The thrill of it makes you slick with need for the wicked man you're straddling between your thighs.

Your pelvis streched over Loki's, his straining cock pressed between your bodies, those large hands of his molded to you hips. Stroking his length once more, you raised up on your knees and guided him into your tunnel. Loki pushed down on your curves, driving himself inside of you with glorious purpose in one stroke.

Stuttering out a curse word, your head fell back, exposing your neck to Loki and his ravishing lips. With his strong arms pulling you tighter, you rolled your being onto his, taking more and more of Loki's body each time.

When his lips found your breast you groaned. Out of instinct you gripped Loki's head and pulled him closer. His hands drifted down your spine, over your ass cheeks, and hugged you tighter than you thought possible. Your nipples were covered in wet kisses, faint impressions of Loki's teeth were red on your skin, and still you wanted more from him.

Grinding together, your sensitive bud rubbing so deliciously against Loki, your body nears the peak of its passion. His grip on you drags you down, harder and harder, spearing your spiral of desire. Your tender walls shudder around the hard heat of his member. "You're going to cum, little one. I can feel it. Please, please cum for me."

The humid breath of his broken whisper in your ear sends your body into bliss. Shuddering around Loki's bones, you hear him grunt and hold your hips wide over his own as he spills his sexual release into your receptive skin. Gripping him hard enough to bruise, you're locked together, sharing a single body... a single breath.

It takes you both a long while before your breathing returns to normal. Never taking his precious blue eyes off of yours, Loki brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I hope my queen is satisfied..." he teases.

"Hmmmmm... yes... yes she is... and my scary black cat?", you ask as you flick one of the flocked ears, now slightly askance. "Oh, he'd purr in pleasure... if that were possible."

Loki stirs inside of you making you jump. "Wait... please. Just a little longer, Loki." You're not ready to let go of his body, his spirit, his heart, just yet. Wrapping your arms across his shoulders, you rest your chin in the crook of Loki's neck and idly play with a lock of his hair.

"Loki?" You murmur, drowsy and still a teeny bit tipsy.

"Yes, darling?" He turns his bright eyes to yours.

"Next year we're going as Westley and Buttercup, from The Princess Bride..." You yawn and slide off Loki's lap, wrapping the comforter around you both.

With a gentle smile, Loki answers, "As you wish, little one."

#hot loki #loki smut #loki of asgard #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki fluff #loki #marvel smut #marvel #mcu smut #marvel fanfiction

477 notes · View notes