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fandom-imagines-stories · 3 years

Text

Learning Teamwork

Josh Lyman x Reader

Words: 2184

Summary: Two colleagues that usually butt heads are forced to play nice when the President sends them to attend to a Governor's Ball in his home state.

Notes: I have so much Josh angst I wanted to write something a little fluffier that I could still capture his signature snark in. (For the purposes of this, I made up a Governor that would fit the story so if there was one discussed in the show, they aren’t in this one.) I also wrote this in two days so… bare with me.

If you hadn’t been in the presence of the President, you might have thrown something at him.

“If the President addresses this now, the Republicans will stop at nothing to get back at him for it.” He spoke in that smug, know-it-all tone that drove you insane.

“This is about real people, Mr. Lyman, not the little politics games that you play all day.”

“Okay, everyone, I think that’s enough.” The President’s order may have halted your argument, but you could still feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you stared Josh down. The rest of the team made a very quick exit, hoping to avoid becoming casualties in you and Josh’s on-going battle. But when the two of you started for the door, President Bartlet’s voice called you back. “Not. You. Two.”

You grimaced and turned back around, reveling a little in the fact that Josh looked just as uncomfortable as you did. One stern look from Jed Bartlet, however, was enough to diminish that.

“Is it physically impossible for the two of you to let me get through one meeting without going at each other’s throats?” He urged, his irritated gaze switching rapidly between the both of you. “Not only are you both a part of this team, you are adults for Christ sake!”

“Sorry, sir.” You gulped.

“My apologies, Mr. President.”

God, even apologizing, he had to try and sound smarter than you.

“I’m not finished yet.” The President walked around his desk and grabbed an envelope from under a pile of other papers. “The Governor of New Hampshire is hosting a ball on Saturday to celebrate something that I can’t even remember. Frankly, I think it’s because his wife enjoys parties a little too much, but who am I to judge?”

You and Josh exchanged a look that consisted more of confusion than anger.

Bartlet continued, “Well, seeing as I used to be Governor of my home state, he’s been kind enough to invite me, though I also think this is more of a way to get more Democratic backing for his next election. Nevertheless, while I am unable to attend due to this whole mess with possible terrorism, I know just the two members of my senior staff to send in my place.” He looked pointedly at both of you.

The excuses tumbled over each other as you and Josh blurted them out, desperately pleading to find something that would change his mind. You hated political gatherings in general but the idea of being forced to go with Josh? It twisted your stomach into so many knots you thought you’d throw up.

“There’s going to be political fallout from all of this and I should really be around-”

“C.J. and Toby are going to need me to-”

“Y/N could go by herself.” Josh said suddenly, making your jaw drop. That little snake. “I’m sure there are plenty of young men that’ll be thrilled to see you.”

“Says one of the White House’s most eligible bachelors.” You fired back, forgetting who you were standing in front of.

“Enough!” The President slammed the invitation down on the desk in front of the two of you. “This isn’t about who is more desirable than who. This is about you two learning how to work as a team and not biting each other’s heads off every time you’re in the same room together! Now, I am calling Governor Thompson and telling him you’re going and the two of you are going to be the picture of grace and maturity. If I hear one word of anything else, so help me god, your careers will be so buried, it’ll take years before they see the light of day.” His voice echoed through the Oval Office, rattling you down to the bone. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“Good. Now go do whatever you need to to free up next Saturday.” He sat down, putting on his glasses to look over other documents. “Oh, and find something nice to wear. Mrs. Thompson has always been a bit of a stickler with the dress code.”

With that, you were dismissed and you felt the dread settling in your chest. You were going to a ball. In New Hampshire. With Josh Lyman for a date. As you shouldered out the door together, you cast glowering looks.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you more.”

If the snickers from Sam and C.J. weren’t enough to drive you crazy in the week leading up to your flight, scrambling to find a dress was not something you originally had on your schedule. Even when you had found one you liked, there was the matter of rescheduling everything you had the weekend you would be gone.

At least Josh seemed to be having as difficult a time as you were. Any time you saw him in passing, he looked frantic and disheveled- which would usually bring you a small amount of joy, but for some reason, knowing you were in the same boat actually made you feel better about going with him.

“Hey.”

You looked up from the piles of work from your desk, surprised to see your unfortunate date standing in your doorway. It was the day before you were set to leave and you both had mountains of work to try and finish.

“What can I help you with, Josh?”

“I just came to say that this might not be such a bad idea.” He moved from the door to the chair, but he didn’t sit down. He just stood anxiously behind it, leaning on the back. He actually looked sincere- and a voice in the back of your head pointed out that, without his usual cloud of arrogance that always hung around him, he was actually very attractive.

No. Definitely not. You hated him.

“Which part? Going to a ridiculous dance so that Governor Thompson can get more clout with Democrats or the fact that we have to go as a bonding exercise?” Your tone was cold, even more so than usual. Call it overcorrecting for your brain’s traitorous thoughts.

“I think the President is right.” Josh’s posture changed, standing up a little straighter as his tone grew defensive. “If this is what it takes to get us to work together, then I guess we deserve it.”

“Funny, since when he first proposed the idea you suggested that I go alone.” You stood up, crossing your arms.

Josh mimicked your stance, his brow furrowing with anger. “Look, I came in here to make some kind of peace with you, and I don’t understand-”

“I know what you came here to do, Josh. You want to show me that I don’t understand Bartlet the way you do while you play some kind of martyr for going on this trip.” You leaned forward with your hands on your desk and he did the same. Your faces must have only been a few inches apart.

“Fine!”

You’d never wanted to kiss Josh Lyman more than you did in that moment and couldn’t hate him more for it.

Your seats on the plane were right next to each other. Because of course, they were. Josh got the window seat despite your protests, sticking you in the middle between him and a rather obnoxious businessman who was speaking loudly on his phone.

“Sir, I need you to turn that off as we prepare to take off.” The flight attendant instructed.

“Yeah, just give me a second.”

“Now, sir.” Her voice was a semi-irritated monotone that left little room for any argument. The man gave her an annoyed look and ended his call. “Thank you, sir.” She continued down the aisle to berate somebody else. Without the distraction of work, he sought out a new way to pass the time- you.

“What takes you to Concord?” He leaned a little closer to you than you would have preferred, but leaning back would basically put you in Josh’s lap so you stayed put.

“My coworker and I have an event to attend.” You motioned to the seemingly oblivious man on the other side of you.

“Just coworker?” His casual expression turned into a suggestive smirk and you felt his fingers run up your knee. You jerked away from him.

“Husband, actually, so how about you keep your hands to yourself?” Josh snapped suddenly, giving Mr. Handsy a death glare. You stared at Josh with wide eyes and forced your mouth shut to keep it from gaping in shock. The man beside you must have been as surprised as you because words came out as a whispered stutter.

“Sorry, I didn’t- she said- and I thought-”

“Yeah, well you thought wrong.” He stood up. “Here, honey, why don’t you take the window seat?”

You sat there, without moving, for a few seconds before he nudged your leg with his foot and you climbed over him to get to the seat by the window. Once you were both situated, the other man got suddenly very interested in the papers from his briefcase.

You leaned over and whispered in Josh’s ear. “Honey? Really?”

“Don’t start.” Though his voice sounded irritated, there was almost a small smile playing at his lips. You shifted awkwardly, trying to keep a smirk from your own lips.

“You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Do you want the window seat or not?” Now his smile had grown into a snicker, making you laugh lightly.

“Who would have thought you were such a gentleman?”

“Well, I’m a married man now, apparently.” He teased. You rolled your eyes.

“In your dreams, Lyman.”

After an hour of shaking hands and dancing with the Governor’s persistent son, you were ready to knock your head against the wall until you passed out. Oddly enough, you had yet to see Josh. Mrs. Thompson invited you to come early for tea so you hadn’t arrived together. You were beginning to think he’d bailed when you saw him across the room.

Pushing your way over to him, his eyes widened when he finally saw you.

“You look amazing.” He gasped, his eyes scanning your silky blue dress before settling on your eyes. “I mean… wow.”

You felt blush tint your cheeks as a smile spread across your lips. He cleaned up pretty well himself and you found yourself checking him out for what you wished you could say was the first time ever. What could you say? The man looked good in suits.

You must have stood there, staring at each other, for a few minutes before Ned Thompson came into view. Without a second to think, you grabbed Josh’s hand.

“Dance with me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.” You yanked him with you onto the dance floor, losing sight of the Governor’s persistent son.

Josh looked around, trying to see who you seemed so desperate to avoid as the two of you began to sway to the music. “What was that about?”

You checked one more time to make sure the coast was clear. “Ned.”

“The Governor’s kid?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t he, like, ten years younger than you.”

“He’s only eight, but yes.” You rolled your eyes, annoyed by his pestering. On the bright side, he was a pretty good dancer. “If I dance with him one more time, I think he’ll propose.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Just tell him you’re married to me.” Josh smirked. “Worked the last time.” You both chuckled and continued dancing. For a while, you forgot why you were here to begin with. You were enjoying yourself more than you cared to admit. In a room full of people, the only one you wanted to dance with was the man you loved to hate.

Maybe it was the other way around.

You sat up in bed, sipping coffee and reading the paper while the sound of the hotel’s heater droned on. The fluffy white robe enveloped your body perfectly, but the real warmth came from the sleeping form beside you as he turned over, swinging his arm so it was around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You smiled in both amusement and complete bewilderment as to how you got here.

“I don’t think this is what the President meant by ‘teamwork’.” You noted, folding up the paper and setting it aside.

Josh peeked up at you, half his face still smooshed against the pillow.

“Goodmorning.” He greeted groggily, rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up.

“I made you coffee.” You handed him the little Styrofoam cup and waited until he’d had enough to wake up a little more. “What are we supposed to tell him when he asks how everything went?”

He thought for a moment. “You know, we didn’t fight at all last night.” He was right. Between the ball and, well, everything after that, not a single argument was had.

You shrugged and held out your cup of coffee for a cheers. “To teamwork,” Josh smirked and tapped his cup against yours.

“To teamwork.”

#josh lyman x reader #the west wing #bradley whitford #jed bartlet #the west wing imagines #josh lyman #c.j. cregg #sam seaborn #joshua lemon lyman

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superhero--imagines · 4 years

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Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! / Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here! / Part 17 Here! / < This is Part 18!>

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* Your eyes open, and your hand flies to your throat

* You’re thirsty

* You sigh as you sit up in your bed a little annoyed, you were having such a good dream too

* Only when you look to your night stand to grab your blood bottle, past it you see Edward sitting in your desk chair

* “What are you doing?” Your voice is gravely, and you don’t wait for a response before uncapping your bottle and taking a sip

* Edward fidgets, his hands tugging with the sleeves of his shirt

* “I like watching you sleep” he admits with a shrug and a boyish quirk of the lips.

* Of course the dork likes watching you pretend to sleep

* Somethings haven’t changed from the books at least

* Maybe he’s part owl or something

* “Ugh, it’s already Sunday where does the weekend go?” You mumble, it’s around 3 am right now

* To be fair you know half your Saturday went in self loathing in a tree, and the other half spent with your entire coven congratulating you and Edward on your new relationship

* “I call (Y/N) as my sibling the next time we move!” Emmett grins

* “That’s not fair, I was going to make them my sibling.” Jasper pouts

* “You already have Rosalie don’t get greedy”

* And then they all basically tried to plan out your wedding.

* So the pressure is on

* At least you still have all Sunday before you have to face everyone at school though. You haven’t even tried to look at your phone

* “Edward,” he perks up at the sound of your voice “were they really thinking vile thoughts about me?”

* His eyebrows thread together, head tilting to the side

* “Mike and Conner, you said they were thinking vile thoughts when you...came to get me.”

* It’s been bothering you for some time, Conner you can understand, but Mike?

* You feel....betrayed

* Edward averts his eyes, you’re half hoping he was lying to you and that he was just upset you were kissing other people

* “Were they thinking of r*ping me?” The second the words fall out of your lips he scampers closer, the chair screeching behind him.

* “No! No of course not-at least I don’t think so-“ His hand cups your face, the other cards through your hair. He sits on the edge of your bed carefully

* “They were thinking of taking you...”

* oh well that’s no so bad.

* “At the same time”

* So that’s a little worse

* “So they were thinking about a threesome?” Edward winces at the word but nods

* You let out a sigh of relief, a threesome is still kinda sketchy but that’s just normal teenage boy brain for you

* “At the time I didn’t appreciate their...vivid thoughts but” he looks into your eyes, like two pools of gold. “Maybe you wanted that.”

* He had acted instinctively upon seeing their thoughts, but in reality he wasn’t much better

* He had imagined that same needy expression on your face dozens of times

* Maybe... you might have enjoyed an experience like that. After all two lovers are better than one

* He’s stuck in his own self loathing until he hears you laugh.

* You’re actually laughing at him!

* He’s worried that you missed out on a vital human experience and you’re laughing!

* The nerve

* And yet, he feels his heart flutters when he see’s you smile at him

* “No, I’m good.” You laugh, and he feels himself let out a sigh of relief.

* “What about Jessica? Does she hate me now” Edward shakes his head

* “I think she might have a bit of a crush on you now.” He grins at your confused expression

* Well that’s unexpected

* You know you can’t really sleep but you feel exhausted, completely emotionally drained

* You snuggle back into the covers And pat the space on the bed beside you

* “Sleep with me?”

* Your face feels uncomfortably hot when you realize what you just said. “I just meant like-dream with me-not um no-“

* “I know what you meant” Edward says with a small smile

* He lies down on the other end of the bed, at least five feet away from you

* “You can come closer, you’re my boyfriend now, boyfriend privileges”

* Boyfriend

* He’s always thought the word was garish.

* A boy who was your special friend, how idiotic. But hearing the word tumble from your lips makes him unbelievably happy

* “What are boyfriend privileges?” He repeats carefully. Shifting so he is lying beside you

* “Normal couple stuff I guess, kissing, hugging, public affection-“

* and sex stuff

* “So I get to be as greedy with you as I want?”

* You feel your face grow warm at the thought of Edward being as greedy with your body as he wants

* The way his hands would feel as they ghost over your body, his sweet rosemary and argon scent filling the air

* You can’t manage to get out words so you just nod, and he grins

* “Let’s go out tomorrow”

* To like a hotel or?

* “We can go to the aquarium in Seattle, I think it’s supposed to rain so something indoors would be good.”

* Oh like greedy with your time

* That seems more on brand for Edward tbh

* “The aquarium sounds nice”

* You curl into his chest, breathing in his scent deeply. He feels warm, not as warm as a human, but soothing in its own right. A gentle warmth, like the warmth from a candle

* You feel so safe here with him. You feel yourself drift off into sleep, and Edward’s arms tentatively wrap around you

* Your weight is pressed against him, and he can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have you pressed against him even more

* Your hands clawing at his chest as you plead

* “Great now I’m the one having vile thoughts” he murmurs to himself

* You both sneak out early in the morning, while all your other coven members are still preoccupied

* “Grab a couple blood bags and I’ll get some tumblrs” you nod, shoving it all quickly in his nike backpack, and you both practically jog to your jeep.

* The drive feels a lot shorter than you remember, it’s only 10 when you get there.

* You sigh as you get out, you’re wearing faded blue jeans and a black coat that cinches at the waist

* Edward is dressed in a similar fashion, faded blue jeans, white shirt and a leather jacket

* Both of you wearing sunglasses

* You don’t miss the looks you get as you walk across the parking lot. You already get a lot of attention as is with the hot pink Barbie jeep

* But you and Edward together look like something straight out of a magazine catalog

* “Did you already buy tickets?” You ask, your arm linking through his.

* “Yeah, we just have to pick them up at the box”

* It’s actually pretty busy, it is a weekend day though so it’s to be expected

* “(Y/N)?” You turn to the voice and feel like the wind got knocked out of you

* “Jessica, Bella...” and there’s someone else with them, brown skin and long dark hair.

* Well he’s kinda hot, for a human that is

* “What are you doing here?”

* They’re like the weirdest group for a Sunday hang out

* “My Dad had some tickets, he was going to come with my mom but I guess they got in a fight or something.”

* You get the feeling that there’s more to it than that, but you’re just happy she’s talking to you after you kissed her without consent

* “Oh um , this is Jacob we’ve been friends since we were kids.”

* So this is Jacob, he looks older for his age.

* “Hey Jacob nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N)” you extend your hand and you see him stiffen for a second

* Yeah that sounds about right. All humans get afraid when they first me et you, you are technically their natural predator after all. He seems to get over it and grasps your hand

* “Hey, nice to meet you”

* “Do you go to school with us?”

*You know he doesn’t, but you’ve found it best to pretend in this situation.

* You glance at Edward who hiding a twitching smile, looks like he heard something interesting

* “No I go to school on the res, I’m a sophomore.”

* Oh a sophomore, younger man is more her speed huh? And they’ve been friends for years, he’s to her what Edward is to you

* You ship it

* “Do you guys want to join us?”

* You can feel Edward’s eyes piercing you in the back. Yeah you know this is a date, and he probably wants some quality time with you or whatever-

* But it’s not like you’re f*cking after or anything

* And honestly you kinda wanna see how this whole Bella-Jacob ship plays out

* “Well I don’t-“ Bella starts

* “We’d love to!” Jessica interrupts, and then taking a nervous glance at Edward she adds:

* “That is if you don’t mind?”

* Queue everyone looking at Edward. He looks at you, a small pout bowing onto your lips and let’s out a deep sigh

* “No of course not, I’ll get the tickets and meet you at the gate.” He says with a resigned smile

* He leans down, catching your lips in his. You know you don’t have a beating heart, but you feel it stutter when he pulls away and smiles at you

* “See you in a bit daring” and then he walks towards the empty “reserved pass” line

* Darling?

* DARLING???

* (Y/N).Exe is broken

* And you would stay broken if Jessica and Bella didn’t each grab a shoulder and shake you.

* “Oh my god what was that?!?!” Jessica shrieks

* “Are you guys like...dating now?” Bella grins

* “Yeah, I guess we are?” The human part of you understands that you’ve just agreed you feel the same, and that you have just started a relationship

* But the vampire part of you, the primal part, knows it’s so much more than that

* He’s your mate

* And saving any major changes, he is yours for as long the universe will permit

* “Wait are you guys on a date right now?” Jessica asks, and it pulls you right out of your thoughts

* She’s worried she’s intruding

* “No-I mean maybe? Honestly we both just wanted an excuse to get out of the house.” You sigh

* “Are the rest of the Cullen’s not taking it well?”

* You do live together, and you’re at that age. Sure Emmett and Rosalie and together, but that seems to be under more transparent circumstances

* So imagine her surprise when you card your fingers through your hair

* “No they’re taking it too well!”

* Last night you basically rotated between coven members as they all told you how happy they were you were with Edward now

* “Honestly I thought the nerd would never find the nerve” Emmett confided in you

* “Eleazer you’ll never guess what happened....we’re going to be brothers!” You had heard Carlisle tell Eleazer over the phone before breaking down into tears

* “Carlisle stop crying, the venom is going to make a hole in the floor.” Esme shouted before turning her attention back to you

* “So what colors do you like (Y/N)? I’m partial to gold and white myself-“ she said pointing the color combination examples in her wedding book

* They were driving you crazy.

* “Carlisle keeps rotating between smiling and crying because ‘two kids are leaving the house’ and Tanya called to give me the most smug speech about it- I just need a break.”

* You sigh

* “Wait-did all of this happen after the party?” Bella asks with a smile creeping onto her face

* Before you can answer though, you see Edward walking towards you

* “We’ll talk about this later” Jessica whispers, not that it matters, going on the smirk on Edward’s lips he already heard everything

* “So Tanya called you huh?” He whispers in your ear when the others move ahead

* His breath fanning against your ear causes your stomach to flip. You’ve been around him so long, you almost started to forget how hot he was.

* “Yeah, she’s basically hoping I crush your heart so she can get revenge.”

* You’re mostly joking, but given past history, you know she wouldn’t mind if that’s how things turned out anyway

* “That’s fair.” He looks almost sad. What the hell happened between them to make him like this?

* You want to ask, but you feel like now isn’t the best time. Not when Jessica and Bella are a mere five feet away arguing about whether to see the jellyfish or penguins first

* So you do the only thing you can: You reach out and hold his hand, squeezing it slightly. Edward doesn’t say anything, he just squeezes back

* It’s a pretty nice day, Bella’s dad bought her a digital camera so you take a bunch of cheesy pictures around the aquarium

* “Oh try to get one like a shark is eating us! Like I’m in Jaws!”

* “You know they’re an endangered species and that stupid movie doesn’t help right?”

* “There is no ethical consumption under capitalism Bella”

* Edward just makes a pained expression as he holds up the camera. All he wanted to do was go on a date with his significant other

* “Girls am I right?” Jacob asks, extending his bag of popcorn

* For a second you think Edward might hate him, but instead a smile arch’s onto his face

* “You have no idea.” He smiles, taking a few kernels.

* Aw, it’s Edward’s first human friend 💖

* You kinda wish you were the one with a camera now, or at least a smart phone

* Instead you settle for a grainy picture on your flip phone. They both look at you like confused puppy's when the shutter clicks

* “Aw that’s a cute one” Jessica coo’s

* “You even got a shark in the back” Bella says pointing to a blurry gray blob in the background

* It’s a good day

* You’re almost sad when you have to part at the end

* “You sure you guys don’t want to come with us? Jessica’s dad is letting us have his reservation at the revolving restaurant in the space needle”

* You and Edward exchange a look

* “Nah it’s fine, I’m pretty sure Esme is wondering when we’re coming home”

* “She’ll be pissed if we eat there without here.” You add for good measure

* “Well alright we’ll see you at school tomorrow” Jessica says with a wave, and you smile

* “See you tomorrow”

* Looks like things are back to normal

* Edward drives on the way back

* You hold the plush sea turtle close to your chest as you watch him

* He really is handsome, chiseled cheekbones and full rosy lips. To add he has that mane of auburn hair, and that irresistible splatter of freckles across his nose

* The prettiest boy you’ve ever seen

* “I can feel you staring” he says with a smile twitching onto his lips. Oh god you want to kiss that stupid smile right off his mouth

* “What went wrong with you and Tanya?”

* Way to kill the vibe

* “I’m sure Tanya told you all about it.” He shrugs. There’s that sad look again

* “I want to hear about it from you though”

* And Edward might have denied you if your hand hadn’t found his, resting on top of it

* He grins

* You don’t play fair, do you?

* He sighs, squeezing your hand while keeping his eyes on the road

* “I just...didn’t like the way she thought about me”

* “Like you were a piece of meat?”

* He laughs

* “Like I was some charity case besides-“ he stops abruptly, looking at you before swallowing hard. “Never mind”

* “No tell me!” You lean forward cradling your hand intertwined with his against your chest and he chuckles, you really don’t play fair

* “ I didn’t-I don’t feel attraction to people unless-“

* He looks into your eyes, and you feel his fingers squirm against yours

* “Unless we’re friends first”

* Oh, he’s asexual.

*Or demisexual.

* Somewhere on the spectrum for sure

* Is he coming out to you right now?

* You give his hand a squeeze

* “I get that.”

* You want to smack yourself.

* The boy you love just came out to you about his sexuality and all you can say is ‘I get that’

* You feel so useless

* But Edward doesn’t let you feel useless for too long, he squeezes back looking at you with such warm eyes

* And again you can’t help but think that even though his heart doesn’t beat anymore, he looks so human

* He’s just pulled into the driveway at the house, the car parked. He’s about to say something when you cut him off, tugging him closer to you and placing your lips on his

* If he’s surprised he doesn’t show it, placing his free hand on your shoulder and leaning a bit closer to you

* He’s so careful and gentle...and dazzling

* He’s barely touching you but you can feel yourself seeing stars

* That thing he does with his tongue-it’s indescribable

* Are you sure he’s a virgin?!?

* You can’t help the sigh that passes your lips when he pulls away. You’re still in a daze when he pulls you into his lap, one leg straddled on each side

* His head is tilted back, an easy smile on his mouth.

* You suddenly feel shy, that look in his eyes should be illegal

* “So-“ you lean back a bit “do you-um-do you have feelings like that for me?”

* He tilts his head to the side in confusion and you gulp

* “Y’know sexually speaking”

* He actually laughs at you

* Right there, when you’re only a handful of inches away from his face

* But you’re not annoyed, instead all you can feel is a rush of affection

* His eyes crinkle at the ends, his pearly white fangs sparkling as he grins. Your hands cup his face as he looks up at you with adoration

* You can imagine the rosy blush that would light his face so clearly, the deep emerald green of his eyes. You’re almost starving for the image you see in your mind to be real

* He pulls you out of the image with a simple touch. His arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer

* “I - like the rest of the entire student population at Forks High School- find you absolutely bewitching”

* The way he says it makes you shiver, and Edward’s hand trails up your back.

*He sits a little straighter, bouncing you slightly in his lap as he does, so you’re looking straight into his eyes

* “I find it hard to believe you don’t know that I have been dying inside everyday watching you walk around in those short shorts you love so much,” he whispers in your ear.

*“That I haven’t been dying to absolutely ravish you .”

* You gulp.

* It’s all you can do when he’s looking at you like that

* If you thought Garrett’s bedroom eyes were intense, then Edward is on an entire different level

* You feel your heart stutter, butterflies erupting in your stomach...and something else

* A certain heat you haven’t felt in a long time

* You’ve never seen him look at anything like that, like he’s hungry-

* Starving even

* His lips brush against your neck, trailing down to your collar bone and you sigh

* He really knows everything about you doesn’t he? All your sweet spots, all your stories, every one of your secrets.

* Your hand trails up his chest, entangling in his hair and a low gasp tumbles from his lips

* And then your phone rings

* You hear him groan, and you shake your head

* “Ignore it” you mumble, your mouth meeting his once more

* And you continue on for a few moments, until his phone rings

*He pulls away from you with a groan

* “Rosalie’s calling me a long list of profanities right now” he mumbles, you sigh pulling away to lean against the steering wheel

* It’s probably for the best, no point in getting too turned on when you knew he was going to say ‘you should wait until marriage’

* Like honestly, he died, and you died, and now you live an alternative lifestyle where literally nothing matters anymore

* But you’ll respect his wishes

* “Guess we should go inside” You sigh, you move to get off of him

* But just as your about to crawl off, he tugs you to face him once more

* His thumb brushes over your cheek, and those deep gold eyes bore at you with that same intensity as before

* He pulls you in for one last kiss, before getting out of the car and closing the door behind him

* “We’ll pick up where we left off later.”

* (Y/N).exe is broken

* You walk to the house slowly, like humans do

* “Are you ready?” He asks, holding out his hand

* You smile, placing your hand in his and nodding

* “Ready”

* So imagine your surprise when you and Edward get inside, hand in hand, to find the entire coven is laughing in the living room.

* From where you’re standing you can only see Carlisle

* “Ah your home! Come, I want you both to meet someone-“

* You move forward but Edward stays rooted to the spot

* Three people come into view, a woman with flaming red hair, a man -no older than 25- with rich mahogany skin, and a dazzling young man with hair the color of the sun.

* “Meet our new friends, Victoria, James and Laurent”

* You turn to look at Edward, his mouth pinched into a frown

* Well F*ck

Tags: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @ xxxmuxxx @ideas-for-you-to-adopt @poisoinedhope @maryleigh8796 @moose-squirrel-asstiel @hotmessgoodness @jaimewho @corabmarie @what-am-i-doing10 @alluring-venus @imdoingathingmom @anotheryooniverse @im-tired-not-sleepy @emmettcullenisahimbo @my-super-musical-life @smolvampiregirl @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @mihikaahujaaa @werewolflover3252 @teenagezombiekryptonite @shynz @reclusive-chicken-nugget @monkeyluver4546

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight headcanon #twilight imagine #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen headcanon #jacob black #jacob black imagine #jacob black x bella swan #bella swan imagine #bella swan headcanon #midnight sun #superhero-imagines

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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

Sing me my song.

summary: Harry’s feeling insecure after he sees his girlfriend interact with her ex.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluff with some angst, happy ending tho.

a/n: this was requested by @hazzalightsupmyworld, hope you like it! Let me know what you think :)

Find the rest of my masterlist here.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Relationship wise, Y/N has never been one with luck. She has never had the ability to jump from one relationship to other, it just wasn’t who she was. Instead, she spent several years being in love with the same person.

Ariana and Y/N met after they shared a studio session back in 2015. They wrote some songs together for Ariana’s upcoming album at that time. It took them two months and several cups of coffee to fall in love. Their relationship was mostly private, as neither of them wanted curious eyes all over their every move. Of course the media eventually caught up the two women weren’t just friends, but were romantically involved and after Ariana’s album dropped, it looked pretty serious.

However timing just wasn’t on their side, and for different reasons, they ended up going separate ways. Although that didn’t stop them from remaining friends, Y/N was still in love with her ex-girlfriend. She stayed there through tough times and not even once not dropped everything if Ariana called.

It was some time after their breakup when they found their way back to each other. They thought it was only fair to give it another shot, but it just didn’t work out. They both wanted different things and together came to the conclusion they were better off as friends, so Y/N and Ariana called it quits before they hurt the other bad enough they wouldn’t be able to be friends in the future.

For a lot of time, Y/N thought she wouldn’t be able to fall in love again, or at least have a somehow serious relationship with someone else. It took her time, but eventually she got there. With every day that passed, it got easier to move on.

And that’s when she met Harry.

A kind, shy man who has shown her a completely different side of the world, one that she was completely oblivious of before he came into her life. Although Harry was sure since the beginning about his feelings for her, it took Y/N a little while to open up to him and allow him to take her on a date. Sure, they hung out and stuff, but it was always with other people around in a friendly environment. Now there was nothing wrong with that, but Harry wanted more.

Almost a year after they first met, Harry and Y/N finally started dating. Things were great between the two of them. They both felt like there was something very… real in what they had. Quite frankly, they had never felt like this before. It truly felt like they were building a life together that could easily become a forever thing, and even though for some people it could be scary, for them it wasn’t. It felt good to have something stable after a long time of trying to find something that felt completely real and honest.

It wasn’t until Y/N felt like she was 100% over Ariana that they started talking again. Of course, they had missed each other but they both agreed it wouldn’t be so healthy to try to move on without putting some sort of distance between them. For them, it was so easy to become close friends again. It was like the old times, just with a few boundaries they had agreed on.

Last time Y/N saw her, was on Ariana’s first show of her tour. She had gone to support her, however she did not join her on tour like last time. And it was fine, honestly. Y/N felt like her life was complete now that she had her boyfriend and her best friend in it.

Now Y/N found herself spending more time in London with Harry than anywhere else in the world. And it was slowly starting to become her second home.

Around August, after taking a shower before getting ready to go out with Harry, Y/N received a text. It was from Ariana, she was inviting her to her next concert in London that was in a few days. Y/N bit her lip, thinking what it was best to do. Honestly? She wanted to go. It would be really nice to go see her perform after a few months of not seeing each other, and she could always bring Harry so he’d have a good time too.

“Babe, are you ready? Reservation’s at seven o’clock.” Harry came out of their walk-in closet with his clothes on his hands.

“Yeah, one second.” Y/N sent Ariana a quick text saying she’d ask Harry before looking up at him. “Hey, do you want to go to a concert this weekend?”

“Sure, who are we seeing?”

“Ariana.”

Now, Harry knew their story and how big of a roll Ariana was on his girlfriend’s life, and although it made him insecure at times (not that he’d ever say a word to her about it), he has come to accept that. Also, it wasn’t like Ariana was a stranger to him. They were also friends, just never been really close.

“I mean, I’m down. It’ll be fun if we go.” He shrugged, deciding it shouldn’t have to be a big deal.

“Awesome. I’ll tell her we’re going.” She smiled.

Inside of his head, Harry tried to convince himself they’d have a good time, and everything was going to be fine, although he wasn’t feeling so confident at the moment.

Saturday rolled in and all Y/N could talk about was the concert. She planned an outfit along with hair and makeup that with go along with her clothes. She was excited but also a little nervous. They’d most likely go backstage after the show, and it would be the first time the three of them would be together in the same room.

Harry has called a car that would drive them to the O2 Arena. Unfortunately, they ran a little late due traffic so when they arrived, they had to take her seats in the VIP box immediately because the show was about to start. Harry wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder as they stood there waiting. Now, normally he wouldn’t be anywhere touchy with her if they were in public, but he was feeling particularly clingy today so he didn’t care if tomorrow there would be a billion of pictures of the two of them all over the internet.

The lights when out and the music started, making the twenty thousand people in the arena erupt in screams.

Aside from the two of them, there were other people in the VIP box. A couple of Ariana’s friends Y/N knew and some celebrities.

So far they were having a good time. Harry let loose a little and started dancing with Y/N too. He screamed the lyrics he knew and jumped around just like everyone else. After the fourth song passed, the energy lowered a little as a slower song came into the set list.

Y/N swallowed hard when she recognized the melody. R.E.M. was a song Ariana told her a long ago was written about Y/N a little before they broke up for the second time. In complete honesty, she loved the song. She loved it when Ariana showed it to her that night they stayed up until 2am just talking, long before it was out to the world, and she loved it now that she was hearing it along with twenty thousand people.

It brought a lot of memories back and the song that followed did not help.

Harry noticed her sudden change of behavior but chose to not point it out. Instead, he gave her hand a squeeze that quickly snapped her back to reality. She looked up at him and smiled, leaning into him a little.

Songs like Moonlight, Sometimes or Thinking Bout You, Y/N knew weren’t on the original set list of the concert. They were old songs Ariana didn’t really sing anymore, mainly because they were about her, and she was singing them now.

It only made her more nervous to step into backstage after the concert. And it wasn’t about any lingering feelings, truly. It just was kind of a lot to take in. She was in love with the woman for a long time, for the love of God.

One song before the concert ended, they decided to head backstage to avoid the crowd afterwards. Someone from the security team leaded the way to them and some other people who had the same idea and they waited patiently for the show to end.

“Did you have a good time?” She asked him.

“I did, haven’t danced like that in quite some time.”

“Me too.”

The couple held hands and stayed a little behind. There were people everywhere, both from the staff and friends that were hanging around. They heard Ariana say her goodbyes to the public before she ran off the stage. People rounded her to congratulate her for the show, she went around giving hugs to everybody until her eyes landed in Y/N.

Both girls squealed and crashed into a hug. “You’re here!”

“I promised I’d come, Ari.” Y/N said sweetly.

“I’m so happy you did. I changed the set list after you texted me.” Ariana gave her a dimpled smile, looking directly at her eyes.

“So I noticed.”

Harry caught awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with himself. Ariana and Y/N broke the eye contact as the first one went and hugged Harry. “Thank you for coming, Har.”

“Thank you for the invitation. We had a great time.” He didn’t really mean to, but subconsciously he emphasized the we.

“I’m happy you did.” She said. “I was thinking we could have dinner afterwards. Courtney’s also here somewhere.”

“Absolutely.” Y/N was quick to answer.

“Great, let me take a shower and grab my shit before we go.” Ariana walked away towards her dressing room.

“Do we have to go?” Harry almost whined.

“C’mon, it would be fun. Please?” She gave him those damn puppy eyes she knew he couldn’t resist. So he sighed and nodded, making her squeal. Y/N hugged him before she gave him a quick peck on the lips. “We won’t stay so long, I promise.”

Although he agreed on going, Harry kept quiet for most part of the dinner. Ariana and Y/N sat in front of the other so they were talking the whole time, giggling about things Harry did not understand as they were inside jokes they had. He did not feel comfortable at all by the end of the night, and it didn’t help the fact that Y/N was not acknowledging him.

“You need a ride home?” Ariana asked after dinner was paid and everyone was starting to get up from their seats.

Y/N was about to speak but Harry cut her off. “I have called a car, thank you though.” He didn’t want to sound rude, but he didn’t think he could stand a whole car ride with them probably seating next to each other giggling and whispering things.

“Oh, alright.” Ariana answered slowly. “I’ll be in London until next week, maybe we can meet up?” She said to Y/N.

“Totally, I’ll text you.”

The pair hugged tightly. Ariana waved at Harry a little awkwardly as she has already sensed his jealousy building up.

“Have you really called a car?” Y/N asked when it was only the two of them.

“Are you talking to me now?” He couldn’t help but say. He has in fact called a car, he did it the second they asked for the check. Y/N sighed, not really wanting to start anything while they were still in public.

Not long after that, a black range rover pulled up and they walked towards it to get in. This time, Y/N didn’t seat in the middle to be close to Harry. Instead, each of them sat by each end of the seat. The ride back to the house was quiet, none of them had really nothing to say to the other, but they were also gathering their thoughts because they knew what was going to go down once they entered the house.

The both of them thanked the driver before getting out of the car and into the house. Y/N took off her shoes and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, Harry following her steps.

“Are you going to tell me what is wrong?” She asked.

“I don’t know. Is there anything wrong?”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” She crossed her arms. “There’s something bothering you and I want to know what it is. Did you not have a good time?”

“I was until you started flirting with your bloody ex.” He finally said.

“Flirting? Harry, I was not flirting with her.”

“Yes, you were. And she was flirting with you too!” He accused. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how she was looking at you!”

“According to you, how was she looking at me?”

“Like she was still in love with you! Didn’t you see? She basically serenaded you back in the concert and had no problem admitting it. ‘I included these songs only because you told me you were coming’” He tried to copy her voice. “For fuck’s sake.”

“Well, I can exactly control what songs she includes in her show!”

“Oh, but you clearly enjoyed it, didn’t you? Must have felt good to have all her attention.”

“Now you’re being mean.” She said.

“No, I’m being honest. And I’m sorry if it makes me mad when your ex is all over you!”

“She was-”

“And you can’t even see it. Can’t you see how fucking insecure it makes me feel whenever you talk so highly of her? How am I supposed to top what you had with her?”

Y/N swallowed hard. “It is not a competition, you know? I don’t spend all our time together comparing what we have with what I had with her.”

“For you it might not be. But I do spend a lot of time worrying about you waking up one day and deciding you don’t love me as much as you love her. After all, you have found your way back to each other once, what assures me it won’t happen again?”

“It won’t.” She stated.

“You don’t know that.” He shakes his head. “What if one day you realize you can always go back to her? You’d leave me in a heartbeat.”

“How can you have such little trust in me? I love you, Harry.” Y/N almost cried out. “When my heart was broken, you were the only one there who helped me glue it back together. You. I would have never agreed on going on a date with you if I wasn’t over her.” She paused. “After I met you, I knew I had to get my shit back together so this,” She motioned the space between them. “would work. Because I wanted it to work. You have given me so much,” Her voice broke. “I don’t think I would ever stop loving you.”

“Baby-”

“And I’m sorry if I today I made you doubt that. It wasn’t my intention at all. I was just… I was excited, you know? You have to understand that while I dated Ariana in the past, I’m not in love with her anymore. Do I love her? Yes, I do. But it isn’t the kind of love I have for you, H. What I had with her had an expiration date, and I knew it. But I also know that I want to be with you forever. You’re my forever, not her.”

Harry chocked a laugh, allowing one tear to roll down his left eye. “You’re my forever too, baby.”

“I’m sorry.” She said again before wrapping her arms around his torso. “I love you so, so much. Please believe me.”

“I believe you, I do.” He mumbled before kissing the top of her head, hugging her back. “I’m sorry for being so insecure.”

“I know it isn’t exactly normal to be close with your ex, and i’m still working on setting boundaries.”

“I appreciate that.”

They both sighed happily, enjoying being in each other’s arms. “Do you get as excited as you were today when you listen to the songs I wrote for you?” He asked quietly after a while.

“Just as excited, if not more. I love it when you sing me my song.”

“The one about us dancing in the kitchen or the one about me eating your pu-”

“Way to ruin the moment, Styles.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurbs

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nolanell · 3 years

Text

Apartment 9: Writer Wednesday September 8th 2021

Writer Wednesday: @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape

Pairing: Maxwell Lord (WW84) x Female Reader

Length: 2.8K

Warnings: Mention of divorce, being a single parent, brief consideration of being a woman alone in a big city. A lot of this takes place in a lift. Allusion to an age gap (not a big one, and reader is of age). Aside from being female and other characters describing her as pretty, there are no other descriptors of the reader. There is one kiss described, but no other physical intimacy.

Author's Note: My first ever Writer Wednesday submission! I hope you enjoy. I have read a few soft and fluffy things for Max Lord recently and he's just been in my head. Inspiration struck me with this week's prompt and I just went with it!

You didn’t know much about the man who lived down the hall. What you did know, you didn’t know if you could fully believe as a lot of it was snippets of lift gossip you had heard as you went to and from your apartment to the ground floor. That didn’t seem reliable, or like it would be particularly kind in the way it painted a picture. But if this gossip was to be believed, he had recently lost everything except his son, who he loved dearly. Essentially, he had made some bad decisions and was now paying for them.

You hadn’t seen him in person yourself until he had been there about six months. It so happened he was running for the lift and you held the door for him. You didn’t know who he was at first.

‘Thank you,’ he smiled softly as he stepped in.

You smiled back.

‘Have you… have you lived here long?’ he asked.

You turned to him and raised an eyebrow. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with the question, but you couldn’t be too careful, a woman living on your own in the big city.

‘I- I just meant I’ve been here six months and we’ve not met before,’ he explained.

You softened a little bit. Whoever this was, was just trying to be friendly. ‘Two years, nearly,’ you replied.

The lift door dinged as you reached the ground floor. He motioned for you to go first. You paused a second, a little taken aback at his politeness, but walked out of the lift, turning around to face it once you came out. He stepped out after you, not quite sure what to do given you had stopped. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

‘You live on the eighth floor too?’ you asked, a little surprised.

‘I do,’ he nodded. ‘Number 11.’

‘Number 9,’ you pointed toward yourself.

‘Wow, practically neighbours for half a year and we’ve only just met!’ he laughed. He had a genuine smile, but his laugh seemed a bit restrained, a bit guarded.

You couldn’t help but break into a big smile at the absurdity of it. ‘Right? How crazy!’

He seemed to perk up a bit at your smile; seemed to stand a bit straighter, his smile starting to reach his eyes a bit more. He pushed his floppy, blondish-brownish hair out of his eyes and smiled again.

‘I’m Max,’ he offered his hand. ‘Nice to meet you.’

You offered your hand in return and gave your name. ‘Nice to meet you too, Max.’

‘I’ve got to get going, I’m picking up my son,’ Max said, moving toward the exit.

‘Where from?’ you asked. Couldn’t be school at 10am on a Saturday.

‘From his mum,’ Max explained. ‘I get to see him this weekend.’ The smile on Max’s face showed just how happy he was about it. It was a much more genuine smile this time, and very infectious.

‘I won’t keep you then,’ you smiled back, moving to catch up to him. ‘Have a lovely time together.’

‘Thank you,’ Max was still smiling and this one had reached his eyes fully; he looked genuinely pleased at your remark. ‘Have a good rest of the day yourself.’

You parted ways as your came out of the apartment building. He seemed pleasant enough. Just a single dad, clearly loved his son, trying to get by, as far as you could tell. And after all, wasn’t everyone in the building just trying to get by? And if the lift gossip was true, was that really your business, or anyone else’s, for that matter? Max seemed nice enough to want to say hello to, and hold the lift door for again.

You didn’t see him again for a couple of days, and this time you were both waiting for the lift to arrive. After exchanging the standard ‘hello’, the silence was a little difficult; you weren’t one for inane small talk. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Max stuffing his hands in his pockets and staring at his feet. He looked… nervous?

Come on, you must be able to think of something.

‘How was your time with your son?’ you asked, glancing over at Max.

He looked relieved that you had said something. ‘It was great, thank you,’ he smiled. ‘How have you been?’

‘Not too bad,’ you gave what you hoped was not a tired smile. ‘Just trying to get by.’

Max nodded. ‘I hear that,’ he agreed. ‘Just one foot in front of the other, it feels like some days.’

The lift dinged and the doors opened. Max motioned for you to go first again. ‘To the ground?’ he asked as he went to hit the floor button.

You nodded. ‘Are you seeing your son again today?’

‘No,’ Max said, more than a hint of sadness in his voice. ‘Just out for a walk and a coffee.��

‘There’s a great place round the corner from here, if you haven’t already been. Maria’s?’ you furrowed your brow trying to remember the name.

‘I think I’ve walked past it,’ Max nodded. ‘I’ll check it out. Anything exciting planned for you today?’

You shook your head and laughed. ‘I wish. Just errands.’

‘Never ends, does it?’ Max agreed.

The lift doors opened and again Max motioned for you to go first. As you left the building, Max wished you a nice rest of the day and that he would see you later. You smiled and nodded. You only had two interactions lasting less than five minutes, but Max seemed much nicer than the lift gossip suggested. Which is exactly why you tended not to not give it any credit. At least next time you had something to ask about; whether he tried the coffee at Maria’s, and what did he think of it. You found yourself hoping you saw him again fairly soon; it was nice to have someone to talk to who didn’t just want to gossip about the building residents. Or was it that he was kind of cute? Sure, he was a little older than you, but the way his hair flopped forward when he looked down was adorable. He had a nice smile too. But, you reminded yourself, he was just trying to get by, one foot in front of the other.

But weren’t you, too?

You didn’t see Max for a few days after that and even then, only very briefly. You were coming out of the lift having come up, as he was waiting for it to go down. There was a boy with him you assumed was his son; there wasn’t a huge resemblance, so you assumed he must look more like his mum.

‘Hello Max,’ you greeted him as you stepped out.

‘Hello,’ he smiled at you. ‘I’m so sorry, we’re in a bit of a rush.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll hold the lift for you soon,’ you smirked over your shoulder as you walked to your door. You heard the lift doors close behind you, but not before you heard a chuckle from Max and a young voice ask ‘Dad, who is that?’. So you’d finally met Max’s son, sort of.

You did in fact hold the lift for Max a couple of days later, but on the way up this time. He was carrying a couple of grocery bags and smiled at you over the top of them.

‘Thank you,’ he said as he tried to hold the bags without anything slipping out.

‘Told you I would hold the door for you soon,’ you laughed softly. ‘Can I give you a hand?’

‘Would you mind?’ Max looked relieved. ‘Only if you’re sure, I wouldn’t want to impose.’ You motioned with your hands to pass you one and took the one in his left arm from him.

‘How was the coffee at Maria’s? Did you go in the end?’ you asked, once you were sure the grocery bag was secure.

‘I did, it was lovely,’ Max smiled. ‘Definitely one of the best I’ve had since I got here.’

‘It’s my favourite,’ you agreed. ‘Oooh, and it’s nice to see your son has your curiosity.’

Max blinked at you and looked genuinely confused. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘A few days ago, you were in a hurry as I was coming out the lift? He asked who was that as you got in?’ you explained.

‘Oh! Sorry, yes, I’d almost forgotten,’ he said as recognition crawled across his face. ‘I keep telling him to use his indoor voice. He does keep me on my toes.’

The lift doors dinged, and before stepping out you asked Max if he’d like some help carrying them to his apartment.

‘If you’d hold on to it while I get the door open, that would be wonderful,’ he said, motioning for you to leave the lift first. He followed you as you stepped out and nodded in the direction of his apartment door.

As you got to Max’s door, you were standing either side of the door itself, facing each other as Max fumbled in his pockets for his keys. This was the first time you’d properly looked at him, and you found yourself picking up details you’d not noticed before. His floppy blondish-brownish hair flicked down toward his eyes, that you’d seen before, but you hadn’t noticed how beautiful his deep brown eyes were, and you hadn’t taken in his gorgeous golden skin, and the size of his hands on the grocery bag…

Girl, get it together. This poor guy is probably reeling from who knows what, given he is a dad not living with his son he very clearly loves, and describes living as one foot in front of the other. He does not need you looking at him like that.

You heard Max say something.

‘Sorry, what was that?’ you ask.

‘I… I said thank you so much for helping,’ Max said, his skin a little pink.

His front door was open. He’d found his keys and opened the door while you’d been gawking at him. Your cheeks burned slightly at the thought he might have noticed.

‘Oh! It’s no trouble,’ you smile. ‘Want me to bring this in?’ You raised the bag you were still holding.

‘No, don’t worry, I’ve got it from here,’ Max chuckled. He seemed to be avoiding your gaze.

You straightened up and smiled again as you passed the bag over. ‘Okay, I’ll leave you to it. See you later, Max!’

‘See you later,’ Max replied, as you were already walking back to your own door.

Later turned out to be a couple of days later, and again you met Max going up in the lift. He had his son with him again.

‘This is Alistair,’ Max beamed proudly, after introducing you to his son.

You knelt down, and smiled at Max’s son. ‘It’s nice to meet you, Alistair,’ you hold your hand out.

‘You too!’ he smiles in that adorable, excited way most children do, and shakes your hand.

You stand back up again as the lift dings and you all get in, Max holding Alistair back as he lets you go first again. In the lift, Alistair presses the button for the eighth floor, and looks up at you.

‘Can I press the button for you?’ he asks.

‘You already have,’ you smile down at him. ‘I live on the same floor as your dad.’

Alistair smiles. He gets this expression on his face you can’t place. You don’t dwell on it as you hurriedly try to think of small talk; what can you ask that doesn’t ignore one or the other? Then it hits you.

‘Alistair, has your dad taken you to Maria’s?’ you ask him, a smile teasing at the corners of your mouth.

‘The coffee shop?’ Alistair looks at you, confused, as you nod. ‘No, he says coffee is for grown ups,’ Alistair rolls his eyes.

‘That’s true, but you know what? Maria’s also does amazing milkshakes,’ you grin as you look at Max. He smiles at you.

‘Ooooh,’ Alistair gasps.

The lift dings. Max motions for you to go first. You step out and kneel down to Alistair again. ‘It was nice meeting you, Alistair. See you soon?’

Alistair nods with a smile. You stand up and smile at Max ‘I’ll see you soon,’ you say as you walk toward your door.

‘Dad, is that the pretty lady from number 9?’ you hear Alistair’s voice, and you’re glad you’re walking away as your face flushes red.

‘Indoor voice, please, Alistair,’ you hear Max sigh, as their footsteps move away from you.

You’re beginning to think Max is avoiding you. It’s been almost a week since you met Alistair and you’ve not seen him. You’re standing in the lift waiting for it to start moving, staring at your shoes, as you hear someone get in. Your eyes flick up for a second and you see Max standing in the lift with you.

The lift doors close and it begins descending.

For the first time, you actually feel like there is an awkward silence between you two. You dare another glance at Max and he is doing the same as you, staring at his shoes. That gorgeous hair has flipped forward again, hands stuffed into his pockets…

You clear your throat. ‘Do you normally tell Alistair about all the pretty ladies you see?’

Max’s head whips round to you, so fast your surprised he’s not given himself whiplash. ‘I’m… I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable.’

You smile kindly at Max. ‘Not at all,’ you reply. ‘But that’s not what I asked,’ your expression turns into something of a mischievous grin.

Max blushes. Those stunning eyes meet yours. ‘I… I told him… well, you’re the only one I’ve ever mentioned.’

It was your turn to flush red. ‘Really?’

Max nods as the lift dings for the ground floor, and gestures for you to go first. ‘And even then, it was his idea.’

‘What?’ you ask, confused.

Max looks at the floor, smiling nervously. ‘Remember when we were on our way down, when we were in a rush? Well, he asked who you were, as you heard, and I explained you lived at number 9 and we got the lift together sometimes.’

You nod, waiting for him to continue.

‘And Alistair really does keep me on my toes because he said you were really pretty, and I agreed. And of course he decides to remember that at the point it would cause the most embarrassment,’ Max sighs, risking a glance over to you.

‘I think it was more the lack of indoor voice that was the problem,’ you giggle.

Max laughs, another genuine one that reaches his eyes, and he nods in agreement. ‘It certainly was,’ he smiles, a sweet little dimple emerging on one side of his face. He was so cute, and you were starting to think he had absolutely no idea.

You both stood there for a few seconds in silence, not really knowing what to do next but also not really wanting to end the encounter.

‘Where are you off to?’ Max asks you.

‘Nothing too exciting, just a walk and then coffee at Maria’s,’ you reply.

‘What a coincidence,’ Max smiles. ‘Would you mind if I join you?’

‘Of course,’ you nod. ‘Who would turn down the gorgeous guy from number 11?’

Max flushes red. ‘I don’t know about that. But I’m glad the pretty lady from number 9 wouldn’t.’

Damn, he really had no idea how cute he was, did he?

As you step out of the building, Max offers you his arm, and you loop yours through it as you walk down the steps from the entrance. You pause at the bottom, smile and gaze into those incredible dark brown eyes. Before you know where you are, your lips are on his and you’re running your hands through his hair, curling your fingers at the back of his neck. His lips are impossibly soft, his hands finding their way to your waist, holding you close to him. His tongue gently brushes against your lips, seeking permission, and you are all too happy to grant it. He’s gentle, almost hesitant at first, but his kiss deepens into something so passionate you’re glad he’s holding your waist, as he’s making you weak at the knees.

Eventually you pull back, breathless, giddy, smiling. ‘Wow,’ is all you can offer.

Max smiles and blushes for about the third time in five minutes. ‘Wow indeed,’ he agrees. ‘Come on, let’s go and get a coffee and you can tell me about this gorgeous guy at number 11.’

You roll your eyes, loop your arm in his and start walking. ‘Sure thing, but only if there’s more of those kisses in it for me,’ you tease.

#writer wednesday #max lord fanfic #max lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord fluff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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ivyglow · 4 years

Text

I don’t want you like a best friend - Andre Burakovsky

A/n: Sooo, I wrote this as some kind of gift to my best friend because she loves Andre and she was trying to get me on his train (I guess she did?). She’s always hitting me with “no but you should definitely write about Tito/Andre”. Here’s your piece @skarsgardswiftie I hope you like it! <3 I love you sm Also, a huge shout out to @sebs-aston for proofreading this with such an attentive eye! You’re amazing, liv!

Requested: yes / no

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: brief mention of alcohol

Summary: you’re friends with Andre, but things are about to change after you create a TikTok account and start doing challenges that may lead to news between you and your favorite hockey player.

When it comes to capturing a moment you’re usually the person your friends think about, not simply because you’re always carrying a camera -mainly because of it-, but because you’re great with what you do -either photos or videos-. That’s also why your Instagram profile has more followers than an ordinary girl would and it’s the only place people can find you -besides e-mail-. However, that changed when your best friend -Callie- convinced you to create a TikTok account. You, of course, hated it, but she had the perfect opportunity -you were a bit tipsy, all your friends around, sunny weekend and so it goes.

“Mikko, do you think I’m pretty?” You direct the camera to his face while looking expectantly.

Saturday evening rolled around, the hot weather forcing your friends either to the inside of the pool or under the sunshade and their hands busy with cold drinks. It was a happy day, everyone was around, and you were enjoying the vacation. You had met half of the Hockey team as soon as you moved to Colorado and Erik, your and your brother’s hometown best friend decided you needed to know his crew and the city around. Six months later and you knew pretty much everyone and everything.

“Of course I think you’re pretty” he gives you a confused look before you turn to Tyson giggling.

“Josty, do you think I’m pretty?” you ask and he looks straight at the camera “I would give you 5 out of 10 cause you’re bro.”

You laugh and turn to Andre this time.

“Andre, do you think I’m pretty?”

He seems taken aback by the question and unlike Tyson, he stares at you. “Of course you’re pretty.”

You keep to your task and last but not least is Nathan, he’s sitting at a table while working on some drinks and you take him by surprise by jumping in front of him. “Mac, do you think I’m pretty?”

He rolls his eyes playfully and turns his attention to you for some seconds before looking at his drink again, “I would one hundred percent date you if you were not my sisters’ best friend”

And then your time is over.

“So you’re a tiktoker now?” Erik sits beside you and Nathan just as you uploaded the video. He raises his eyebrows and you roll your eyes lightly, “you know I hate TikTok, but it’s fun, so…”

“She’s gonna end up famous there too”, Andre announces leaning his body on the table and motioning for Nathan to refill his drink. Your eyes roam on his big hands grasping the red cup, his cheeks red from the sun, and the way you could see his dimples when he smiled at you, his hair messy in a cute way.

“Why do you think that?” now he has three pairs of curious eyes staring at him.

You almost chuckled when his point finger scratched his chin. His skin glowing, “I mean, you’re funny and cute…cute girls get famous on TikTok” he reasoned.

“Is this your best, Burki?” Erik asks and for the way his lips were tight against each other you knew he wanted to laugh.

“C’mon, let them be,” Nathan said after giving the blond American a new cup, and before you could ask what was the matter Callie was calling you at the door.

Your best friend started a rant about how she was going to get Chinese take-out for dinner and when you told her she should get Thai too -because it was Andre’s favorite- she started another rant about how you should tell him you’re in love and how it was cute the way you two functioned but also annoying. All you could do was savor your drink and mentally play a Taylor Swift song while she went on, “I mean it, y/n! Just tell him already…”

“Have you seen Andre?!” you whisper-scream to her and Callie sights rolling her eyes, “what about him?”

Swallowing the last sip of your drink you start to draw doodles on the glass with your fingers, “I’m just y/n, he’s Andre Burakovsky”. You usually were not insecure about your looks, but it was Andre, and the fact that he was a famous and good-looking hockey player made you question how in heavens he would like you back. Hell, you were not even sure how you two ended up in such a close friendship, he always being so affectionate and listening to everything you had to say. Your friendship seemed like the most you could take from the interaction. You knew he was ‘just Andre’ too when all your friends were gathered, but being ‘just Andre’ was as amazing as being Andre Burakovsky the hockey player.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met, y/n, and I don’t mean considering only your looks, but everything. You’re funny, smart, and always so attentive with everyone, you listen to everything and always have nice things to say, don’t you ever doubt your value, you hear me?” Callie’s words make you sit up straight in the stall and your eyes water.

“In my defense, this is not me crying, this is tipsy me having an emotional moment”, you joke and it’s seconds before the two of you are laughing the way you used to during a John Mulaney show.

…

It was night when you unlocked your phone only to find a bunch of notifications from TikTok, some of the comments from fans about how happy the boys seemed, but most were about the way Andre looked at you when you asked the question. According to the most liked comment “this is clearly a friends to lovers, mutual pining, unaware love and slow-burn situation” which made you giggle but also replay the video a dozen times trying to figure out if there was really something there and you were the unaware one.

Needless to say, you weren’t able to reach a conclusion, but it felt different when you excused yourself to take a shower after spilling wine in your shirt and you felt Andre’s eyes on you all the way to the stairs. His hands on your shoulders felt heavier and the way he was attentive whenever you needed a refill or wanted a bite of food seemed more intimate and caring than ever.

Hitting the shuffle button, you chose your Taylor Swift playlist before entering the shower. The cold water cooled you off a bit, it was almost like washing out part of the alcohol in your system, but your tipsy mind kept finding evidence that Andre liked you back.

You went through your clothes finding a floral summer dress and sipping on your wine while brushing your hair. Your body was still feeling hot and at this point, you didn’t know if it was from the sun on your face or the alcohol in your system, but when you heard the first notes of “Dress” playing you knew you were going to do something stupid, especially because your cell phone was one arm away. If someone asked you where the idea came from you wouldn’t know what to answer, and usually thinking about how you didn’t have an answer was enough to make you give up on some stupid ideas...not this one though.

Reaching for your phone you unlocked it and walked to the body-length mirror in the room you were sharing with Callie. It took less than 2 minutes to snap a picture and send it to him and it took him less than 1 minute to answer it.

‘Woah’

‘You liked it?’ you sent back

‘Yeah, you’re looking good, cutie’ he answered just as fast, before sending a red heart emoji.

‘I don’t want you like a friend’

‘and I only bought this dress so you could take it off’

It was the exact line Taylor was singing when you reached the send button. You saw the dots appearing and disappearing and your body sobered up even more than before.

“Fuck!” you almost voiced. How would he look at you after this? Could you pretend you confused him with someone else? Of course not, he was the only Andre you knew! And everyone knew better you were not the bold flirty type.

That was it, your secret was spilled just like your wine on your shirt earlier, but now you wouldn’t be able to clean off the stain.

Would he believe it if you told him it was a prank to your new TikTok account?

You were lost in your thoughts before three knocks on your door startled you. And there he was when you pushed the door open. Standing with his hands inside his pockets and his hair still messy, he stared at you. It took maybe five minutes before he spoke, but it felt like an eternity considering his intense eyes studying you.

“You’re looking even better this close” for some reason his voice is low like he didn’t want anyone to hear and pop the bubble of the moment.

You feel your body getting hotter, pretty sure your face is turning even redder, so you reach your hands to both of your cheeks. That gets a giggle out of Andre and you instantly move them to your back, your eyes now staring at his bare feet.

All you wanted to do was bury yourself on a rabbit hole until Andre lost his memory, or you lost yours. You were thinking about the possibility of a secret society -Alice in Wonderland style- inside the rabbit hole that you could live in forever when Burki extended his hand, his palm facing you, silently asking you to put your hand in his. So you did. And it was only a blink of an eye before his body was closer, almost touching yours.

“You’re not that drunk, are you?” he questioned.

You shook your head no and he moved his hand to your waist as a message that maybe -and only maybe- he wanted to be close too. So you moved your right one to his large shoulders.

“I’m glad you’re not drunk…”

“I’m just a bit hot and bothered” and dying out of shame! You screamed inside your head.

“Oh sure you are”, he replied with a small smile playing at the corner of his pink lips. Your brows raised in confusion and before you could ask, he answered, “hot. You’re hot”.

“Does it mean you’re gonna take my dress off?” you have no idea when you got so bold, but Andre seemed amused with everything.

“No, not tonight. You’re not drunk, but you’re a bit tipsy, I don’t want to start things like this” his fingers are in your cheekbone and you lean into him. “I’m gonna kiss you though, can I?”

His lips, so different from his hands, were soft and hot. They found yours timidly, exploring the space while his body welcomed yours closer, he took his time before his fingers were in your hair and his tongue caught your lips.

It felt good.

Like never before.

For some seconds you wished to be able to capture the moment and save it forever. Repeat it in your head every day.

Andre played with the strings of your dress, slipping it off your shoulders and you got into your tiptoes to peck his lips one last time.

“So...I take you really liked the dress?”

“I actually like you, the dress is a bonus” he shrugs and you giggle before finding yourself wrapped in another kiss.

#andre burakovsky #andre burakovsky imagine #Colorado Avalanche #hockey imagine #mels writing #nathan mackinnon #tyson jost #erik johnson

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years

Text

And I confess, babe

Part 6 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Feelings are confessed... sort of.

Warnings: none

Word count: ~2400

“There’s something I haven’t been completely honest about.” You blurted out taking a break from cleaning. It had been a few months since Halloween, and you and Spencer have hung out whenever possible, but never calling anything a date. You had both gotten pretty busy with the holidays, but still made time. He is basically your best friend, but you want more than that. You just aren’t sure he feels the same way.

Spencer turned from where he was reading on the couch immediately mirroring the nervous expression he could see on your face. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything. That’s what friends are for.” Ugh, friends. This is so confusing. As he walked up to you, you thought you noticed a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but you brush it off. You need to focus.

You have never told any of your friends about this. It’s almost like you were living two lives and all the sudden you wanted them to merge. Well, really you just wanted an excuse to sing love songs to the man standing in front of you without completely freaking him out. “You know how much I love Taylor Swift, right?” You could see the confusion growing on his face

“Um, yeah. That’s not exactly a secret…” he chuckles as he searches for the truth in your eyes.

“Well, um... I kind of... well… it’s not really a big deal, but I… you see…”

“Y/N, just tell me. I promise not to freak out.” He interrupted, the confusion evident on his face.

“Okay, just… I’m inaTaylorSwiftcoverband…” You blurt, the words rushing from your mouth. You cover your face with your hands. Of course, boy genius understood the mess of a sentence you just said, realization slowly dawning on him.

“Y/N, why were you so nervous to tell me?” He sounded shocked. “You know I would support you no matter what. When’s your next show? I would love to go see you perform.” The sincerity in his voice made tears well up in your eyes.

You rushed to hug him as you said “I don’t know why I was so nervous. I guess people can be really harsh when you are a Taylor Swift fan. Nobody takes you seriously, ya know? I started the band because her music made me better at conveying my emotions. It was actually a kind of therapy for me at first, but then I fell in love with performing. I actually wanted to tell you so I could invite you, and the rest of the team, to my next show. It’s Saturday night.”

He ran his hands up and down your back before pulling away to look you in the eyes. “I will be there.” He said, matter-of-factly.

“Yay!” You were practically jumping with joy that the conversation went well. It felt kind of stupid to be so worried over other people’s perception of your music interests, but you’ve always been self-conscious of being the “weird” girl. It made even the smallest decision so hard for you. “I want you to invite the rest of the team, but keep it a surprise. I haven’t told Penelope, and I’ve known her 2 years longer than you.” He laughed as you realized how comfortable you must have felt with Spencer to be inviting him and his friends to see you perform. Usually the only way you made it through was knowing there was nobody in the audience that would recognize you enough to make fun of you. But, it was time for a change. You have always been proud of your accomplishments, and the people you called your friends should be a part of that.

“You should know there’s always a theme to the show. I like to tell a story with her songs, pulling from all the albums helps make it more cohesive.” You wanted him to be a little bit prepared for what you had planned.

“What’s the story for this show?” Spencer asked, curiosity brewing in his mind.

“Well Doc, I’m afraid that’s a secret. You’ll have to wait and see.” Spencer kept pestering you to find out the theme, but you refused to tell him. Finally, he returned to reading as you cleaned the rest of your apartment.

Saturday came much faster than you were expecting. The nerves you felt kept growing as you tried to finalize the set list you would be performing in just a few hours. The stories you usually tell don’t normally rely so heavily on your own life experiences. But, that’s why you fell in love with Taylor’s music in the first place. The songs are so relatable. It’s incredible how well she can convey emotions and stories with her lyrics. Plus, this is your chance to tell Spencer how you feel without having too much pressure. If he doesn’t say anything about the obvious theme, you could just pretend you made up the story for the audience. It would be fine. No pressure at all.

The hours until your show drifted away as you got ready and arrived at the venue. You were actually playing in an auditorium instead of a bar for the first time in a few months. The night had been heavily marketed for couples since Valentine’s day is next week, but you knew your friends would all be there to support you. Going over the set list with the band, they knew exactly what mood you were going for. It was clear there were three sections to the night: 1) the break up, drawing heavily on your experience with Drew, 2) moving on from the failed relationship as you form a new crush, possibly on an incredibly hot doctor, and 3) where you wanted this new relationship to go. That storyline is what made the marketing so good. Couples could come and just be in love, relating the music to their own lives. Plus, people were itching for something to do since no real artists were touring in DC right now.

You glance out at the audience as the lights flicker, indicating only a few minutes until show time. You find Spencer and the rest of the crew, barring Hotch and Rossi, easily as you put them in the front row. You wanted to be able to see their faces, or completely look over their heads. It all depends on the expression of the one and only Spencer Reid.

“Hello, and welcome to the show!” You try to hide the nerves. You’ve done this plenty of times, but knowing who is in the audience is taking a toll. “In case you didn’t know, with every show I do, I try to tell a story. Usually, it is based on a movie or a book, but today I am trying something a little bit new. No book, no movie, just a story. It’s got three parts to it. Part one sucks.” You laugh along with the audience. “It’s about a breakup and learning to move on. So let’s get started!”

You immediately jump into the first song Babe. Technically it features Taylor Swift, but she wrote it so it counts. Plus, it is the perfect song to describe your feelings to finding Drew cheating on you, and she did write it.

This is the last time I’ll ever call you Babe.

“Now, I know how hard it can be to get over someone who you’ve been with a long time. Especially when combined with the pain of them cheating on you. This next song describes that mentality of recognizing that someone won’t change because you want them to. Sometimes, the best thing to do is cry and scream and move on.” The instrumental to You’re Not Sorry begins to play as you calm you’re nerves.

This is the last straw. Don’t wanna hurt anymore. And you can tell me that you’re sorry, but I don’t believe you baby like I did before. You’re not sorry. No, no, no no.

“I know, I know. No more sad songs! After you break up with someone, it can be pretty hard to not miss what you had. But eventually, you’ll get to a point where when they call you in the middle of the night, all you have to say is We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. Like ever.”

You make it through the next song without a hitch. The crowd is clearly enjoying the show, which is actually helping with your nerves. You’ve glanced at your friends a few times, but nothing that lingers. You’re not quite mentally prepared to look at Spencer yet.

“With every breakup, there is some amount of time afterward where you can’t help but think about them. No matter how badly it ended, there is at least a day. It could slowly fade out or it could just disappear one day, like magic. Either way, this song is how I personally feel once that window of time ends.”

I forgot that you existed. It isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it‘s just indifference.

This song really helped turn the mood around. Everybody is dancing and singing, clearly enjoying themselves. As the song ends, your nerves return a bit. This is the scary part.

“And with that, we move on to part 2! As the saying goes, the best way to get over him is to get under someone else. Well, that’s not exactly where this is going, but it follows the same general logic.” The instrumental to Enchanted has already started as you finish the intro “Meeting someone who helps take your mind off the bad by making new memories.”

All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you. This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home.

This is the first song you are singing directly to Spencer, even if you can’t even look at him. You glance at every other member of the BAU, but you just can’t bring yourself to admit it to him. Not yet.

Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.

You can feel the sting in your throat that comes from thinking of Spencer being with someone else, finally making you look at him. He seems happy. He’s not dancing as much as everyone else, but he is swaying. You count it as a win.

“Now, I’m not saying the only way to get over a breakup is a new relationship. Sometimes, you just need a friend.” You clear your throat to go right into the next song.

Wanna hang out? Yeah, sounds like fun. Video games, you pass me a note. Sleeping in tents. It’s nice to have a friend.

This is where it’s supposed to be obvious who you are singing to. None of your newly formed friends really know the extent of your relationship with Spencer. But, you’ve convinced him to try a lot of new things. It started small, with hiking, but eventually you got him to agree to a short camping trip over a long weekend. It was freezing since it was November, but you just cuddled together around the fire. That is what makes this so nerve wracking. You are terrified of messing up your friendship.

“Friends are the best resource post breakup. They always know how to put a smile on my face, no matter what I’m upset about. You could go so far as to say I’m Only Me When I’m With You.” You laugh at the corny joke, knowing that’s the next song you’re singing. “To be completely honest, this is kind of a story of the past few months of my life. I had a pretty bad breakup, but I met some new friends who really helped me through it. It’s nice to be completely honest about yourself with someone else.”

I don’t try to hide my tears, my secrets, or my deepest fears. And through it all, nobody gets me like you do.

“Now, we move onto the third and final part of the show. We’ve covered the past and the present, so all that’s left is the future! The future is unknown, which is kinda of scary when you think about it. So, it can really help to have someone who makes you feel Fearless.” So many lyrics make you want to stare at Spencer.

I wanna ask you dance right there, in the middle of the parking lot.

Run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you.

And I don’t know why, but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless.

You’ve decided against looking at Spencer and the rest of the profilers. If you make eye contact you know they would 100% be able to see right through you. Just two more songs to get through. You don’t even pause to talk before the next song is playing.

Cause all I know is you said, “Hello” and your eyes look like coming home.

You’ve spent so long thinking about Spencer and his perfect freaking eyes that you subconsciously glance at him right then. The second you realize, you look away again, missing the look of complete adoration on his face.

And meet me there tonight and let me know that it’s not all in my mind.

“Alrighty folks, I’ve got one more song for you. You probably could’ve guessed it by now, part 3 is about a future relationship, one I’m not currently in. But that’s the thing about the future, you never really know what it holds.” This is where shit goes a little bit sideways. You didn’t plan on changing the lyrics. Most of the profilers seem to miss it, not recognizing that you switched one very crucial word in the song. The one profiler that notices the mistake has spent the last four months listening to every Taylor Swift song ever written because he’s spent so much time with you, and you are always listening to something.

Dark jeans and your converse, look at you. Oh damn, never seen that color blue.

Oh damn is right. You somehow manage to make it through the rest of the song, but now Spencer knows you were singing to him. You can’t decide if you’re glad it’s out there or if you are going to puke the second you run off stage.

“Delicate is about the beginnings of a romance. It’s that point where you are scared any sudden movements will shatter everything you’ve built so far.” You take one final deep breathe. “It’s about admitting your feelings because you can’t move forward without taking the next step. That’s what the future is all about. Thank you all for coming, goodnight!” And with that, you left.

tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat @loveheathens @fan-girl-97

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #Criminal Minds

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timeoverload · 1 year

Text

Ok I hear you!! I will be there on Saturday for sure. I hope everything goes well but I'm trying to avoid getting stressed about it. It will be nice to see you either way. I will have a little bag packed at home just in case I need it. ;) 💖

Anyway, today was a lot better than yesterday. I had 28 cases but they got done by 4 so I had time to catch up on stuff. I found out that my boss approved my time off request for the 26th-28th. I wasn't expecting to get all 3 days off. I kind of fucked up though because I forgot to submit my PTO request for labor day and I only have 4 hours left so it won't be enough to cover the full day. I hope that the people who do payroll won't make a big deal out of it. I still think it's dumb that I'm not allowed to take an unpaid holiday and that they force us to use vacation time. It's not worth getting upset about right now though. I'm just excited to take some time off.

After I got off work, I stopped to pick up my meds and I got a couple groceries. I'm afraid my car is going to die soon. I really wanted to use the air conditioner while I was waiting in the drive thru line at the pharmacy but it makes my car rattle and make scary noises when it's idling. The window on the driver's side is the only one that will roll down so that's annoying too. I got really hot but at least it's going to get cooler outside soon. My car is already loud since the exhaust pipe rusted and fell apart and it's just bolted together. It is so rusty and beat up and I'm just waiting for stuff to start falling off it. I am going to enjoy driving it while I still can. I like that my insurance is super cheap and I don't have to spend a ton of money on gas. I'm about due for an oil change so maybe that will help it run a little better. I don't want to think about it anymore at the moment.

I'm happy that I'm home now. It's so nice to sit down. I don't want to do anything the rest of the night because I'm too tired. I bought a bunch of snacks at the store so I'm probably just going to eat a lot and then get ready for bed.

I don't have much else to say right now. I hope that tomorrow is a good day. It's going to be pretty busy but that's ok. I'm just ready for the weekend now.

I hope everyone has a great night!! Thanks for listening!! 😊

#personal

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thedragonemperess · 3 years

Text

JATP Big Bang Fic

Title: A Job On The Other Side

Artist: @bowtiesareavenged

Cheerleader: @flynn-flynnagan

Art Link: Here!

Tag List: @angelwiththeblue-box @almightygrasshopper @strangeradventures @nyxie75 @beansisarat7 @tronagon @welcome-to-gaytown @jatpbigbang

Summary: An AU where Julie gets a job at the HGC instead of the boys losing their stamps. While Luke comes up with a break-out plan, Julie finds out that Caleb isn't what he makes himself out to be.

Warnings: Suicidal Thoughts and Soul Stealing

Ships: There's some light Juke, Willex, and Rayleb, but nothing strong enough that it should be tagged as such

Notes: This took a really big turn from what I originally wanted it to be but it came out pretty well in the end! And hey, it isn't half bad! I wrote the last, like, 3,000 words today because I didn't have time to finish it at any other time, so a lot of it is unedited. I'm sorry for that, but I hope you enjoy, anyway!

Luke walked up to Julie and looked her in the eye, a million emotions running through all four of them. The jolts were too much, they were fading completely. Playing the Orpheum, something that they had all worked so hard for, ended up not being their unfinished business.

“No music is worth making, Julie, if it’s without you.”

“If that’s the case, then maybe I’ve been going about this all wrong.”

Julie whipped around, Caleb now standing behind her.

“You. You were the one that did this to them!” she yelled, no longer caring about if anyone else heard.

“Yes, yes, I know, I’m evil. But I have…..an offer,” he stated, stepping closer to her.

Julie stood her ground, looking up to him in order to keep eye contact.

“If they won’t perform without you, why don’t you all join me?”

“....What do you mean?”

Alex pulled himself up and leaned back against the piano, clutching his stomach with his right hand. “Don’t listen to him, he’s trying to trick you.”

Caleb ignored him and went on. “You get an afterschool job at the Hollywood Ghost Club and perform with them. Julie and the Phantoms can still exist, you just perform at my club on the side. So what do you say?”

Julie looks back over her shoulders to look at the boys. Reggie was still on the floor, not able to gather enough energy to move, Alex was leaning back over the piano in pain, and Luke was swaying slightly, standing up. She looked back up to Caleb.

“So they won’t disappear?”

Caleb shook his head.

“And you won’t come after any of our friends and family?”

“If that’s what you wish for.”

Julie hesitated to do anything else, but nodded.

“Deal.”

Caleb stuck out his hand and tilted his head slightly. “Shake on it?”

“No!”

Julie turned around completely to face the boys and Caleb retracted his hand.

“He’ll use his stamp on you, too. That’s how he gave it to us.”

Julie looked back to Caleb and glared.

“You never said anything about not being able to use my stamp,” he acknowledged, shrugging.

“We’ll work something out some other time, but for now, can you just stop their jolts for good? Please?” she gestured to the boys, panic starting to drip into her voice.

Caleb rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He waved his hand and the boys’ jolts stopped, forcing them to stand up straight. As Julie ran over to them, Caleb vanished.

That was a month ago. Now Julie was walking down the busy street alone, holding a white pair of dress pants, dress shirt, and black blazer over her right arm and a pair of knee high, black, heeled boots in her left hand. Things had gotten busier, yes, but she could handle it. Flynn hasn’t stopped bothering her about this and keeps going on about how it was a stupid thing to do, but what was she supposed to do? If she didn’t make the deal with Caleb, the boys would have faded from existence, and she couldn’t live with that fact knowing that she could have stopped it.

The HGC was open 24 hours with different performances based on the day of the week and time. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays Julie and the boys would perform. Ray was a little confused on what this place even was, but after a quick explanation from the boys (specifically, Alex, because even though he may suck at lying, the others were way worse), he was fine with it. (“My friend’s uncle owns this incredibly exclusive club. It’s for really rich people only. He thought he would give our band a chance.”) He worried about her not having time for everything, but she assured him that it would be fine, and for the most part, they were. Things got a little hectic at times, but the boys and Flynn were able to help her through it.

Something that was great about working at the HGC was most of the other workers were performers, through and through. They all had different passions and talents. For every singer, there was a dancer, a magician, instrumentalist, acrobat, and more. Everyone was really welcoming, making it a really nice environment overall.

Caleb wasn’t half bad either. Yeah, he was a pretty terrible person, and she still hated him, but he was a good role model, all things considered. Or at least, that’s what she told herself. This entire situation could have been much better, should have been much better, but it wasn’t. Life didn’t go their way, but it was still better than it could have been. There were bright sides. The band’s popularity has grown exponentially, the boys can be made visible, Willie was freed (he still works at the HGC, though), and everything was looking up.

Julie looked around, making sure that no one was looking in her direction, before getting closer to the fence of the HGC. Just before the gate, there was a small opening. Reaching it, she ducked down, getting as low to ground as possible without getting her uniform dirty. Well, it wasn’t really a uniform, she was allowed to wear whatever she wanted as long as it was black and white. After getting through to the other side and brushing herself off, she looked around one more time. Finding that no one was watching, she turned to run to the back of the building.

The Hollywood Ghost Club was the most busy on weekends, so Julie had to try extra hard not to bump into or walk through anyone. The HGC was private property, and the events that went down there weren’t exactly scientifically possible (or legal). After she made it past the gates, multiple people appeared out of nowhere. There was something about the place that made anyone on the property, once inside the gate, became invisible to anyone outside of it, but it didn’t stop her from double checking, just in case. People wearing fancy dresses, some in colorful glitter, others in black and white, of all different fabrics, lengths, and shades. People in suits walked alongside the people in dresses, some more flamboyant than others. A lot of people here lacked creativity, which Julie had learned to decipher as other lifers. If the Hollywood Ghost Club has taught her anything, it’s to never be dull.

Lightly jogging, Julie swerved around the people, not wanting to figure out who was a ghost and who was a lifer. She looked down to the lavender, sparkly watch on her wrist, which read 4:55. Picking up her pace, she made her way backstage.

“Hey guys,” Julie waved to the others.

It was still early, so no one else was there. Luke was sitting on a small table that was supposed to be for props (the variety of performances in this place is insane). Reggie was laying down in a chair, his head hanging back over one of the arm rests while his feet hung over the other. Alex was sitting down the right way in a chair next to Reggie, messing with his drumsticks on his left arm rest. Willie sat across from him, his chair backwards so that his legs were around the back and his arms were crossed on top of the back, which he rested his head on.

“Hey, Julie!” Luke exclaimed, pushing himself off the table.

“Hey, Luke!” She looked around him to the others. “Hey, guys!”

“Hey, Julie,” they all said in unison.

“So, um,” Luke started, lowering his voice, “I have a new song I wanted you to look at. I only have the first verse down and I wanted some of your insight.”

Julie smiled up at him. He was bouncing, his eagerness clear on his face. He was almost like a puppy, with how much energy he had.

“Yeah, sure, I’d love to check it out, just let me change first.”

“Got it.”

Julie gave a small wave and then turned down a hall, looking for a bathroom. Luke watched her leave before heading back to his spot on the table.

“It’s terrible how she’s limited as to what she can wear. If she could wear anything, she’d be the best looking person in this place,” Luke commented, still looking forward.

“Hey, don’t let Caleb hear you say that,” Willie joked. “You don’t want to be jolted.”

“Nice try, Willie, but we can’t be jolted!” Reggie retaliated.

“Wait, why can’t you guys be jolted?”

“Because we don’t have stamps!!” Reggie exclaimed, oblivious.

“Wait, if you guys aren’t stamped, then how come you’re still here? Is Julie stamped?”

“Not that we know of…..” Alex trailed off.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It has to do with the fact that none of our souls belong to Caleb! We don’t have to be here! We can just walk right out of here, and he can’t do anything to scare us into coming back!! He doesn’t have any real power over us!!”

“I mean, he kind of does, he’s our boss,” Reggie countered, oblivious.

“Really, Reg?” Alex asked in disbelief. “You can’t be that clueless.”

“What? Caleb is our boss! He’s in charge of us while we’re here! Sure, he can’t force us back here- ohhhh.” He paused in realization. “You guys are saying that we should just leave him.”

“Yes, Reg!! That is exactly what we’re saying!! Caleb doesn’t have any control over us anymore!! There’s nothing that he can do without the stamp to make us stay!! We can leave!!” Luke repeated, pushing himself off the table, again, in excitement.

“Uh, Luke, I get where you’re coming from, but there’s something that you’re forgetting,” Alex interjected.

“What is it?”

“He still has Willie.”

“Well, we can fix that! We just need to get to the bottom of what else can get rid of the stamps and use that to get rid of Willie’s!!”

“Maybe it’s true love,” Reggie offered, mindlessly.

“Reggie, this isn’t a Disney movie, a true love’s kiss won’t just fix everything.”

“I mean, it’s worth a shot if all else fails,” Willie defended with a laugh.

Alex took a double take. “Wait, what?”

“I mean, true love doesn’t have to be romantic, and you guys are kind of like brothers to me at this point. And an act of true love doesn’t necessarily have to be a kiss..”

“Oh. Oh. Okay, I just-- I thought you meant-- Because I was gonna say--”

Luke put a hand on Alex’s shoulder to stop him. “Dude, stop. You’re only embarrassing yourself.”

“Got it,” Alex responded, lowering his voice.

“But yeah, like Willie said. We can do this!! We might even be able to get rid of everyone else’s stamps as well!! We could overthrow Caleb!!”

“But some people genuinely like being here. Wouldn’t that be unfair to them?” Reggie pointed out.

Luke nodded and rolled his eyes. “Okay, maybe not overthrow him, but anyone that wants to would be able to escape him!! We could give them hope!!”

“But doesn’t he know where Julie lives? Couldn’t he take Carlos, or Victoria and use them as leverage?” Willie offered.

“Or Ray!! He could use Ray as well,” Reggie quickly added.

“Come on, guys!! They’re the Molinas!! They’d be damned if they let some old ghost with a glitter addiction beat them!! You’ve seen what Carlos and Tia have in store in the case of a ghost!! And they’ve learned from us!! Not to mention, Ray wouldn’t let anything happen to his family, even if it was the last thing he did!! And we got the Riders on our sides!! Maybe even the Wilsons and Danforth-Evans as well, if push comes to shove!! Caleb doesn’t stand a chance!!”

The three of them nodded. The Molinas and their friends were a force to be reckoned with. If you dared to mess with one of them, chances are you’d end up regretting it. Even an otherworldly being like Caleb would be in for a bad time.

“See? There’s nothing realistically stopping us from leaving!!”

He glanced behind him at the table before jumping on it with a loud thud, startling the others to their feet.

“I say we revolt and start a revolution!! Stand in our own power!! Sing our own songs!! Write our own lyrics--”

“Don’t we already do that?” Reggie asked, cutting him off.

“It’s symbolism, Reg,” Luke informed him before getting back to his speech.

“As I was saying, we need to step into our greatness and stick it to the man!! Now, WHOSE WITH ME!!!”

“WE ARE!!”

“No, you are not!!”

Julie walked down the hall, on the way to a bathroom she could change in. Sure, she could just use one of the countless dressing rooms there are in this place, but the extra privacy that she was given in the bathroom was comforting to her. In such a busy place, it was nice to be alone with her thoughts. Especially before a performance, when she needed it most. The further she strayed from backstage, the fewer people she passed, and the fainter the noise of the people in the club became. It was like a scene in a movie, she thought, where the dialogue and background noise slowly disappeared to be replaced by the next song in the soundtrack.

It was fun to think of life like a movie sometimes. Or a musical. Breaking out into song while doing a regular task, or being a bit too over dramatic about a dropped ice cube mixed things up. It made things more fun. Thinking of a conversation-cut-short as a cliffhanger or the always dreaded next day of school as the next episode. Setting an alarm to one of her favorite songs to make it her theme song. Random moments of dead silence like the credits. It was weird, in hindsight, but she made it work. It became so natural that it wasn’t strange. Then again, nothing in her life was exactly normal. Julie laughed at the thought. The word normal has basically lost its meaning. She’s in a ghost band, working for an evil ghost, at his magical jazz club. At this point, she wouldn’t be surprised if she woke up in the morning and found out she could fly.

Julie was completely lost in thought, now walking around the building aimlessly. She was humming a random tune to herself, no specific song in mind. This place was like a maze, so easy to get lost in, and forget about telling the time. She was just going over her conversation with Flynn at lunch (who is still not very happy about the whole Caleb thing) when she heard someone speaking from another room. It was unusual, to say the least. She snapped out of her mindless state enough to figure out which room the talking was coming from, and get closer to it. After finding the door, which was left ajar, she leaned in to listen.

Was this smart? No, absolutely not. She should be going on with the band any minute, or at least, that’s how it seems, but that was in the very back of her mind right now. At the moment, she was focused on what that voice was talking about.

The voice sounded stressed, panicked, even. But it also sounded familiar. She couldn’t put her finger on it. She tried to lean in closer, opening the door slightly more.

“I can’t keep doing this with them. They’re too smart for me to trick! They’re performances have lured many ghosts out here. Many naive, young ones. Isn’t that enough?!”

“No, Covington! I need their souls!! That girl--”

“Julie.”

“Is too powerful. And she’s getting stronger. And the boys are getting too....too....too reckless. I can’t wait much longer, Covington.”

Caleb! That’s who the voice belonged to! But wait. Who was the other person? And why were they speaking to him like that?

“I need more time!”

“Well, you don’t have more time. Get the girl and her friends, or else you’ll be in the same position they just got out of.”

“Wait--!!”

Before Caleb could say anything else, the owner of the other voice disappeared, making him slam his fist down on a hard surface.

“God damn it!!” Caleb yelled to noone, before flopping down in a chair.

Julie could hear him mumbling, but couldn’t make out the words, so she tried leaning in further, opening the door wider, if ever so slightly. With all of her weight on the door, she ended up pushing too far, causing the door to swing open and for her to stumble into the room. Unable to find her balance, she fell forward landing on her hands and knees.

Caleb barely gave her a glance, his head buried in his hands.

“Hey, Julie,” he acknowledged her, his voice muffled.

Julie looked up at him, pushing herself to her knees and then standing up. She brushed herself off before taking a look around the room. The floor was a gray carpet that looked far too clean to be anything other than something out of a commercial. The walls were a lighter shade of gray, almost completely empty. In the middle of the right wall, there was a fireplace with a flat screen tv above it. It made her wonder if it was fake or if she had somehow made it to the top floor while lost in dreamland. In the middle of the room, there was a black marble and glass coffee table. Around it, there were a pair of velvet, ocean blue hairs and loveseats. To the right of her, there was a minibar. The countertop looked to be made of black marble as well, with barstools in front of it. Above the cabinets was a white and metallic blue clock O.n the other side of the room, a giant glass window stood between her and a balcony that looked like it could fit 50.

“Uhh, hey, Caleb,” she responded, her voice raising at the end. “Um, what was going on in here?”

“It was nothing, just my boss getting to me.”

“Your boss?”

“Yes, my boss. Things right now are....complicated.”

Julie walked over to the loveseat diagonal of where Caleb was seated and sat down.

“What happened?”

Caleb looked over at her through his fingers for a moment, trying to figure out whether or not he should tell her. He sighed, moving his arm to his armrest, his hand now laying on the side of his face, holding him up.

“He wants you and your friends’ souls, but most importantly yours. You guys are all pretty powerful, but you are......something else. He keeps berating me with questions and requests and demands and updates and you guys keep outsmarting me and if I don’t follow through with this, I’ll be put back in the black room, or have intense, continuous jolts, or worse. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I don’t want it to happen,” Caleb explained, looking in Julie’s direction but seemingly staring off into space. He let his guard down, anxiety creeping into his voice.

Julie didn’t know how to answer at first. Caleb had been a jerk to her and her friends, but has given her quite a few opportunities here at the club that she wouldn’t have had otherwise. But how much of a price really is selling your soul? Is it like in the movies, or does it follow a certain religion? Where would she even go after death? And what about the others?

But Caleb looked so.....scared. He was never like this. He always had a cool, overdramatic, posh, demeanor. Seeing him like this was like looking at a completely different person. And, as much as she hates to admit it, she’s started to like him during the time she’s spent at the Hollywood Ghost Club. Yeah, he’s evil, but he wasn’t so bad. And now he might not even be evil?

“I’m sorry, Caleb. But I don’t.....I don’t want to give up my soul. I want to be able to crossover and see my mom again when I die.”

“I know, that’s the problem. If I can’t convince or trick you into giving me your soul, then I’ll fade from existence and he’ll take matters into his own hands.”

Julie sighed. No one should be in this situation.

“We’ll find a way to figure this out. I promise,” Julie reassured Caleb, nodding her head. She looked him over for a second, thinking her next move through.

“Eh, what the hell?” she thought to herself, before enwrapping Caleb in a hug.

Caleb tensed, looking down at her and holding his arms out at his sides. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her in return, giving her a small pat on the back.

“Thank you.”

Julie retracted, reaching up to push a few stray strands of hair out her face.

“It’s no problem. I mean, it all adds up. It is kind of weird how most of the people here aren’t scared of you. I mean, don’t hate you? Wait, no. That’s not what I-- I don’t--” Julie started to panic, but relaxed when Caleb shook his head and waved his hand, brushing it off.

Caleb glanced at the clock above the bar while he did so, checking the time.

“We’re gonna be late for the opening. I’ll teleport out, you change here, and get back to the stage as soon as you’re done,” Caleb ordered, getting ready to leave.

“Wait!”

Caleb stared at her, expectantly.

“I, uh, I don’t know how I got here. Or my way back,” Julie explained, shyly, holding her left arm.

Caleb sighed, nodding.

“I’ll go wait outside. When you’re done, we’ll walk back together.”

Julie smiled, quickly separating her clothes as she picked out what to put on first.

“Thank you! I promise this won’t happen again.”

Caleb gave a small smile, quickly hiding it and heading out the room, giving Julie privacy.

Talking about this made him feel lighter. Weirdly, lighter. Of course, he shouldn’t be talking about this with a 16 year old. Especially not the 16 year old that he’s been specifically ordered to steal a soul from. Even then, just talking about it briefly had helped. It felt like a curse had been lifted, ironically.

Caleb lean’t against the wall, closing the door as he stepped to the side.

That girl had too much hope. He had known from the moment he made the deal with that man he was doomed. Sometimes you have to go through with something to realize how bad of a mistake it was, and this was one of those times. He was doomed. The moment they had become entangled with the club they had written their fate, too. They might have been able to outsmart him, but there was no way they would be able to outsmart nor outpower him. At least, not yet. Julie still needed training, and there wasn’t enough time for him to teach her how. Yet, here he was, thinking that maybe he could figure this mess out. Maybe they could all get out of this.

The door opening made him stand up straight.

“I’m ready.”

Caleb nodded, silently and started walking back to the club, leaving Julie to fall into step next to him.

“No, you are not!” Julie yelled, grabbing the others’ attention.

The boys looked at Julie, startled by her sudden entrance and confused by her objection.

Luke gave her a saddened look. Julie nodded her head towards Caleb, who was standing behind her. Luke ‘ohed’ silently, looking away.

“Do I dare ask what’s going on?”

“That depends on how much you heard,” Reggie replied, who had shied away, behind Alex’s chair.

“Only the end. Something about ‘sticking it to the man.’ I’d be careful about that, by the way. I do still have some leverage over you guys.”

Julie rolled her eyes while the others glared at him.

“Now, get ready. You guys go on in five minutes.”

With that, Caleb walked out onstage, putting on a cheery voice.

“Sorry about that! We’ve been running a bit behind schedule, tonight. I see some glazed eyes out here tonight,” he threw his cane to his other hand and the music started, “Let’s see if we can change that.”

As his speech blended into song, they had stopped listening.

“Wait, so that means you’re with us, right? And you were just saying no because he was there?” Luke asked, still standing on the table.

“No? Look, something happened. Caleb isn’t that bad? It’s hard to explain. I’ll have to tell you guys later. But for now, we’ve gotta get ready to go on.”

The boys looked at each other with a mixture of confusion and worry. What had happened to their Julie that made her side with Caleb all of the sudden?

The door to Caleb’s office slammed shut. Caleb froze. His time was up. The light dimmed and the room went cold. This was really it. He had put it off for so long, finding ways around it and surviving (if you could really call what he was doing ‘surviving’). But now it is finally gonna end. He deserved it, didn’t he? He should have stayed dead the first time; he didn’t deserve to live. Then he was given a second chance. He could have made things better; help others instead of himself! But look at where he ended up; doing the exact same thing as he was doing before: Hurting others for the sake of himself.

“Where are their souls, Covington?” his boss asked, raspily.

Caleb took a deep breath, standing up straight. He tried to sound confident, but his failure was evident at his shaking.

“I don’t have them.”

The man appeared in front of him, eyes glowing white. You couldn’t really say he was appearing as a man, though. He appeared to be a black cloud, making up a silhouette of a man. In place of his eyes were two glowing, piercing, white dots that seemed to be staring into his soul. At least, if he still had one.

“How. Come?” the figure asked, his voice booming.

Caleb gulped. “The girl - Julie - outsmarted me.”

The figure let out a deep, maniacal laugh. It bounced off the walls, surrounding Caleb. He backed into the door, fear now clearly showing on his face.

“I’ve given you a lot of time for this, Caleb. I’m afraid,” the figure lifted up a part of his shadow, appearing to be his arm, “I can’t afford to give you anymore.”

The figure stepped closer, shooting his arm out in front of him and into Caleb’s chest. Caleb curled into a ball against the door, turning sideways, trying to save as much time for himself as possible. When nothing happened, he looked back down at himself, confused as to what had changed. He looked over to the ghostly figure across from him, who seemed just as confused as he was.

“WHY ISN’T THIS WORKING?!?” he yelled out of frustration.

He tried again. Caleb flinched, but it was for nothing when nothing changed once again. The figure glared daggers at him, causing Caleb to shake even more. The figure lifted up his arm to himself, closing his fist suddenly and tightly. A realization came upon him.

“You no longer have your stamp.”

Caleb looked down at his wrist, pushing up his sleeve. Sure enough, the glowing outline of the stamp that would usually appear when prompted didn’t appear. He pulled down his sleeve quickly, hiding his wrist. He looked back up at his boss, who had stepped closer.

“Fine. There are other ways to take you out. More fun ones,” he stated, deepening his voice, moving closer to him, ever so slowly.

Before Caleb could get away, he grabbed him, teleporting them both away.

“Hey, have any of you guys seen Caleb?” Julie asked the others, who were relaxing backstage.

“Why does it matter? This place is better without him, anyway,” Alex asked, laying down on a couch, his head in Willie’s laugh, twirling his drumsticks.

“He hasn’t been here all week. I’m getting worried.”

“Why worry? He sucks,” Luke asked, not looking up from his song book.

“Yes but….he doesn’t? I think something bad might have happened to him.”

“What did he do to you that you care about him all of the sudden?” Luke looked up, shaking his head.

Julie took a deep breath before relaying her and Caleb’s conversation. She shouldn’t be worrying herself over what was probably nothing, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask around. And she couldn’t hide this from her boys forever, so this was a good opportunity to confess.

“What? Come on, Julie, he’s gotta be lying! He’s trying to trick you into giving him your soul!” Luke exclaimed, getting up from his seat and walking up to Julie.

“Yes, maybe, but he seemed genuinely scared, and--”

“Julie, he’s an actor! He’s lying! There’s no way--”

“I saw him. I saw his boss there, too. The conversation only happened after he had disappeared,” Julie blurted out, stopping Luke from continuing.

Willie, Reggie, and Julie pushed open the door, trying their best to ignore the noise being made behind them. Inside the room was Caleb, sitting in a corner, leaning against the wall. Julie and Reggie rushed over to him, while Willie stayed at the door.

“Caleb! Are you okay?” Julie asked, kneeling down in front of him.

Caleb lolled his head, looking in the duo’s direction, not being able to completely focus on either of them. There were no physical signs of injury, seeing as he was a ghost, but it was clear that he was hurt.

“What--” he sucked his teeth, wincing, “are you guys doing here?”

“Getting you out of here! The others are fighting off your boss right now. He is not a nice guy. He puts you to shame, really,” Reggie explained quickly.

“Come on, help me get him up,” Julie told Reggie.

The two of them lifted his arms and helped him stand up, although he was basically being dragged due to the major height difference between them all.

“How…..how are you able to touch me?”

“I’ve learned quite a bit since you’ve disappeared. Now come on, we’ve gotta get you out of here and finish dealing with your boss.”

They had finished him off. Whether he had crossed over or simply didn’t exist anymore, they didn’t know, but he was definitely gone. The Hollywood Ghost Club still stood, although it was now empty. A handful of ghosts stayed behind; some wanted to take care of it until it was performance ready again, while others didn’t want to leave what had grown to be their home behind. Those who wanted to leave, left. No one blamed them; that place held as many bad memories as it did good, if not more.

Julie and Flynn were explaining the situation she had been in to Ray, Carlos, and Victoria. Caleb was here for the time being, so the boys could become both solid and visible to the others. At first they had thought that was an idea better saved for another time, but Reggie was bouncing at the thought of being seen, and Alex had wanted to talk to Victoria for a while now, so they had decided that once Caleb cleaned up a bit, however he was gonna do that, they would meet each other, officially.

“......Julie, are you doing okay? Do you need to start seeing Dr. Turner, again?” Ray asked, stepping closer to her.

“No, Dad! She’s telling the truth! These ghosts really do exist! I have the proof!” Carlos defended Julie, stepping forward and in front of her.

“I thought the same thing at first, but these ghosts are real! They’re really nice, too!! You’d love them,” Flynn stated, nodding.

Ray looked around at everyone. When he landed on Victoria, she shrugged.

“I don’t know what to believe! All I know is that this house is haunted, and if they’re all saying they know the ghosts, maybe they’re telling the truth?”

Ray sighed, crossed his arms, and smiled. “I guess, if you’re telling the truth, it won’t be so bad. I mean, they brought music back into your life, I’d be crazy to kick them out.”

Julie grinned, running over to give him a hug. “Thanks, Papi!”

Then, she ran over to the stairs, and called up to them. One by one, the four boys descended the stairs, lining up at the bottom.

“Dad, Tia, this is Luke, Reggie, Alex, Willie, and-- Where’s Caleb?” Julie asked, cutting herself off.

“To hell if we know!” Luke exclaimed, ignoring the others staring at him.

“He’s gotta be here, somewhere. I mean, we wouldn’t be visible, if he wasn’t, right?” Reggie pointed out.

Just then, Caleb appeared in front of them with a puff of purple smoke. He was wearing his classic purple suit, save for the jacket.

“There you are! You may have not been the one behind everything, but you’re still on thin ice. You can’t just do that!” Julie reprimanded him.

Caleb rolled his eyes, nodding. “Yes, yes, I’m very sorry. Now, would you mind telling me who hot stuff over here is?”

Julie glanced at where Caleb was looking, and quickly looked back at him. “You mean my dad?!”

Caleb ignored her, walking up to Ray. “Hi, do you know how much a polar bear weighs?”

“No…??” Ray answered, confused.

“Enough to break the ice; I’m Caleb,” he said quickly, sticking out his hand.

Ray absentmindedly took it. “Ray…”

“Do you mind if we take a picture? To prove that angels really exist, of course.”

“I--”

“No! No, no, no. No. You can come over whenever you want and help mend your relationships with this family, but flirting with my dad is OFF LIMITS, you got that?” Julie ordered, rushing to stand in between them.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say, Julie,” Caleb replied, winking at Ray before walking away.

As everyone started chattering and getting to know each other, Flynn and Julie talked about the situation.

“Do you think this is a good idea? For them to be visible?”

“Absolutely not. But they’re happy, and that makes it all worth it.”

Flynn nodded, turning her head to look at Julie. “You know this is gonna cause a lot of trouble, right?”

“Yeah, but we’ll handle it together. Right?” Julie asked, turning her head to face Flynn in return, raising her first.

“Right.”

Flynn fist bumped her in return.

“Double Trouble back at it again!”

“That is not our band name!”

“It doesn’t have to be our band name! It just has to be our name!”

Julie cracked a grin.

“Alright.”

“Yesss! Now I don’t need to trash the new t-shirt design!” Flynn celebrated, clenching both her hands into fists.

Julie laughed. It was definitely gonna be a mess, but it will all be worth it as long as her family is beside her.

31 notes · View notes

sachigram · 3 years

Text

With Teeth Chapter 4

((click here to read on ao3!))

The next few days pass by normally for Shizuo. He's been making more of an effort to be social, doesn't want to make his friends feel left out of his life. He could see how it hurt them before when he pushed them away. As a result, he has more things to do, and he feels better than he has in ages.

Tonight, he's sitting across from Tom, next to Vorona. They're all having drinks to celebrate a successful week at work, and Shizuo is looking forward to the weekend. He doesn't have any plans on his off days, but he likes not having to worry about tracking down some low-life, even if he's only free of it two days a week.

“Any plans this weekend?” Tom asks them both. He's flushed, clearly tipsy already. Shizuo has a high tolerance, and he's pretty sure Vorona does too, because she's drinking faster than either of them, and she seems perfectly sober.

“Negative,” Vorona replies while Shizuo merely shakes his head. “I may go to the bookstore tomorrow.”

“Your checks all go to books,” Tom says. “You should live a little.”

“To acquire knowledge is life's goal.”

Tom looks from her to Shizuo and raises his eyebrows. Immediately, Shizuo feels like Tom is about to do something stupid.

“Why don't the two of you hang out together? Since neither of you have plans.” Tom sips his drink, a smug look of satisfaction on his face. Shizuo's blood boils.

“I—“ he starts, but is interrupted when Vorona speaks.

“That would be nice.”

“Huh?” Shizuo asks, turning to face her. She's looking at him with her usual indifferent gaze, not the least bit affronted by the idea.

“If it would be agreeable for Shizuo-senpai, I see no reason we cannot meet tomorrow,” Vorona says, and she tosses back the rest of her drink. It's straight gin, no mixer, no rocks, but she doesn't even flinch. Just the smell of it has been burning Shizuo's nose.

“Oh, um. If you want to,” Shizuo says, unsure of what's even happening.

“So it's a date then,” Tom announces, and he goes to get them all more drinks.

***

“You shouldn't have done that,” Shizuo grumbles later, after Vorona has split away from them to go catch her train. “You made her feel like she had to agree.”

“Shizuo, come on, man. How do you miss the way she looks at you? She's had a thing for you since she started working with us.” Tom is stumbling a bit as he walks, and Shizuo considers letting him face-plant if he falls.

“She does not. And even if she did, what the hell am I supposed to do about it?”

Tom looks up at Shizuo, giving him such an incredulous look that it's almost reminisce of the way the flea looks at him.

“What are you supposed to do about it?” Tom repeats, and then he laughs. “Oh, my god. You're killing me.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean. I'm not someone that anyone should have a thing for. I'm dangerous, and it's only gotten worse.” Shizuo looks up at the sky, sees the lights of airplanes flying overhead. “I don't want to hurt her.”

“You don't hurt people who don't deserve it,” Tom replies, and Shizuo thinks of that strange dream he had before, the one where Izaya was there, seeing his worst memory. “Give yourself some credit, would you? Have fun. Try to be happy.”

“I am trying. This is a bad idea.”

“Well, too late now. If you stand her up, you really will be an asshole,” Tom says, and then he falls on his face. Shizuo makes no move to help him up.

Shizuo doesn't sleep that night. He's too anxious about his “date” with Vorona, has no idea what they'll do or what they'll talk about. He's tried before to think of himself as the kind of guy who would be lucky enough to have a pretty girl on his arm, but it's always too much of a fantasy, something unattainable and pointless to hope for. Vorona is strong, and she's seen him fight, knows what he's capable of, but it's different to behold someone dangerous from the sidelines and then up close, when it's turned on you. He imagines her look of indifference changing to real fear when he lunges at her, and he doesn't realize until he's waking up that he actually managed to slip into unconsciousness.

“Fuck.” He gets up from the bed, moving to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He's terrified of what will come, of what he is. More than anything, he's sick of being so terrified. His reflection is older, maybe wiser, but all Shizuo can see is that same snotty kid who hurt someone he wanted to protect once.

***

He meets Vorona at the train station. She's dressed the same as she always is, and he's grateful she didn't do anything different in her routine for his sake. She lifts a hand in greeting, studying his face.

“You appear tired,” she says.

“Yeah. Didn't sleep well last night. Sorry.”

“No apology necessary. Perhaps we could get coffee first, both wake up a little more.”

As it turns out, following Vorona around isn't too different from trailing after Tom. She doesn't talk nearly as much, but she doesn't seem to mind taking the lead, and she doesn't take his silence as disinterest. They wind up going to the bookstore Vorona mentioned, grabbing coffee from a little kiosk outside before wandering the aisles. Vorona picks up a book every now and then, explains it to Shizuo in a way he can understand without being pretentious about it, and he finds that he's actually enjoying himself.

After Vorona purchases some new books, they make their way down the street to a restaurant she says she's been wanting to try. This is the part Shizuo was worried about, having to sit alone with her and have her realize he's got absolutely nothing interesting to say, but they manage to keep the conversation going. It's easier than Shizuo expected, and he finds himself thinking he should thank Tom later for setting this up.

“You seem happier than before,” Vorona says when they're walking out of the restaurant. “You were so quiet for so long.”

Shizuo opens his mouth to ask what she means, but he thinks he knows. He was feeling sorry for himself after the bite, wanted to keep everyone out, pushed them away. He is happier now than he was then, but he's still a coward, and he's still scared of anyone learning his secret.

“I'm better now,” he says, feeling that it's true.

“I am very glad,” she replies, and she gives him a rare smile.

That night, as Shizuo walks home after escorting Vorona to the train station, he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket.

“Yo,” he says, picking up the call.

“How did it go?” Tom asks.

“It was...nice,” Shizuo says. He can practically feel Tom's frustrations through the phone.

“Nice? That's not telling me anything!”

“We had a good time. It was much better than I thought it would be.”

“I guess that's all I'm going to get from you. Either way, I'm glad. I think you'll both be good for each other.”

“Yeah,” Shizuo replies. For the first time in his life, he can picture a girl on his arm. “Me too.”

***

The days that follow are slow, but enjoyable. Shizuo goes to work, hangs out with Tom and Vorona, makes plans to spend time with Vorona again on the upcoming weekend. He's almost able to forget all about his ailment, and the bullshit alliance he has with Izaya, who has been silent since storming out of his place the morning after the full moon. Shizuo will have to see him soon so he can stock back up on his potion, and he's not looking forward to it. Part of him worries what Izaya might do if he learns Shizuo is dating Vorona. Izaya wants to ruin every good thing in Shizuo's life. There's no way he wouldn't interfere.

Still, Shizuo is enjoying his period of peace. He's able to sidestep his involuntary entanglement with the other world, with Izaya. He's enjoying feeling like himself again, whoever that may be.

Friday night, before his date with Vorona on Saturday, he's able to find sleep easily, but it doesn't feel like sleeping. He closes his eyes in his room, opens them somewhere else. He hears the sounds of crying, of screaming, and while he should move away from it, he finds himself moving closer. There's a familiar scene before him, one of himself standing in front of a small boy cowering in a corner while two toddlers scream in their cribs. It feels like he's been here before, but he can't place why, not until the small boy looks up at him.

“Izaya,” Shizuo breathes. He doesn't know his own age here, but he can see how small Izaya is, how scared. It's unsettling. Shizuo has never seen fear on Izaya's face before.

“Who are you?” Izaya asks him, looking up at him with wonder.

“You don't know me?” Shizuo asks in disbelief. Izaya has his webs of deceit stretched over everything, over everyone, so time and space probably mean nothing to him either. But when Izaya shakes his head, Shizuo finds he instantly believes him.

“Am I dreaming?” Izaya looks around. “Are you a vision? You're not a ghost, right?”

“No,” Shizuo says. “I'm dreaming. I don't know what the fuck you're doing. You're a witch, right? You've gotta be the one doing something.”

Izaya flinches at the word “witch”, and he looks nervously around himself before looking back up at Shizuo.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Shizuo snaps, and Izaya flinches even more. Shizuo feels concern for the kid in front of him, even knowing who he is, or at least who he'll grow up to be. Is this real? It's not real; it can't be real. It's a dream, one of those lucid dreams he's heard about. He'll ask Shinra about it later.

“Your mind is loud,” Izaya says, and he stands up, padding across the floor to stand in front of Shizuo. How is the flea so tall? He's a small kid, can't be more than twelve if the twins are still toddlers, but Shizuo is looking in Izaya's eyes. Izaya snorts, amused. “I'm not tall. You're the same height as me.”

Shizuo looks down at himself, realizes he's a kid here, too, but with all his memories of the future. He looks back at Izaya, dubious of him, and the amusement drains from Izaya's face.

“You really don't like me,” Izaya says, and he fidgets.

“You ruined my life,” Shizuo spits. “Or you will, anyway.”

“Oh.” Izaya's voice is small. “I've sensed terrible things to come in the future. Things for myself, especially, but I don't know how to stop any of it. I don't think it can be stopped.”

“The future is shitty already, but you make it worse. You enjoy making people suffer. The Izaya I know is—“ Shizuo stops himself, realizes he was yelling. Izaya seems terrified of him, but also curious, his eyes shining even in the darkness of the room.

“You're the realest vision I've ever had,” Izaya says. “I hope I remember you. I forget them sometimes when they're over.” The lights of the room begin flickering on and off, and Izaya puts his hands over his ears. “Go away!” he shouts towards the corner of the room.

“What's happening? Who's doing this?” Shizuo asks, feeling like he should protect this child version of his greatest enemy. The Izaya before him is just a kid, and Shizuo doesn't know how or why, but he can feel how incredibly lonely Izaya is.

“A ghost,” Izaya replies, and he narrows his eyes at Shizuo as if daring him to argue. “I see them all the time, and they want me to help them, but I don't know how. They won't listen to me when I say that.”

“Where are your parents?”

Izaya shrugs, and Shizuo feels rage boiling inside him. He remembers hearing from Shinra once that Izaya's parents were never around, that Izaya raised the twins practically on his own. Mairu and Kururi are weird, certainly, and Shizuo isn't fond of the idea of letting them anywhere near his own brother, but he think they're good kids, all things considered, especially if this is how they were raised.

“My grandparents are around,” Izaya says, seeming to read Shizuo's thoughts. “Or, they will be tomorrow. They already came by today to bring food.”

“That's so fucked up,” Shizuo blurts, and to his surprise, Izaya smiles.

“My parents aren't bad people. They're incredibly busy, and they weren't expecting to have more kids.” Izaya looks to the the twins, who are watching him, still warbling even though the lights have stopped flickering for now. Their little hands are reaching towards him through the bars of their cribs. “As for my grandparents, they're not in great health. They can't do much to help aside from cooking and checking in every now and then.”

“Sounds like a lot of excuses,” Shizuo says, thinking of his own family. His mother never even wanted to leave their family overnight, much less weeks, months at a time. Izaya shrugs again.

“Maybe so. It doesn't matter much to me anymore. They never listened to me even when they were here.” Izaya studies Shizuo for a moment. “Your mind is—“

“Loud, yeah. You keep saying that.”

“It's more than that! It's like static and whirlwind mixed together. I can feel you wanting me out of your head, but you keep letting me back in, pulling me in, really. It's like you want me to hear you.”

“I don't,” Shizuo says flatly. “How are you doing any of this, anyway? I'm not anywhere near you in the present right now. Why are we sharing the same dream?”

“How should I know? I was born with this power, but I don't know how to use it all yet,” Izaya says, and Shizuo frowns at him, wants to bring up the future and all the terrible things Izaya will do once he does master his stupid power, but it would be pointless. This Izaya has no idea of the future, probably isn't even real. This is a dream, probably, Shizuo's brain attempting to humanize the flea.

“You called me a witch,” Izaya murmurs, more to himself than to Shizuo.

“That's what you call yourself,” Shizuo says.

“I've never had a word for it before. I just knew I was...different. People romanticize it, you know, being different from everyone else. Standing out. Maybe for a while, it was fun. But lately I'm like an island in myself, and every day the distance to the mainland grows.” Izaya pauses, as if hearing himself say so out loud is illuminating in some way. “I'm being dramatic, aren't I? I didn't mean to say any of that.”

“I know what you mean,” Shizuo finds himself saying. He doesn't elaborate, but he doesn't really have to. He can feel Izaya in his head, like a prickle on the edges of his subconscious.

“Why aren't we friends?” Izaya asks, and the question is so earnest, so innocent, that Shizuo finds himself bolting upright in his bed, jerked back into wakefulness.

“Fuck these fucking dreams,” he hisses, rolling over to check his phone. It's a little after seven in the morning, an hour before his alarm was set to go off. He's already got a message from Vorona, telling him she's looking forward to their outing.

He doesn't know why he can't get Izaya's face out of his mind.

***

Shizuo's second date with Vorona goes well.

They meet at Sunshine 60, have some drinks with their food. Conversation comes easier this time, and there's hardly any silence between them. While they walk, Shizuo finds her hand in his, and he doesn't hate it. Her hand is soft, but not too soft. She has the same callused hands he does, and it reminds him that she can take care of herself, that she can handle him, so long as he's careful to remain human around her.

He drank enough to have a little bit of a buzz going as they make their way up towards the observatory. Vorona says she hasn't seen it yet, and wants to. It reminds Shizuo that this is the sort of thing people who visit Ikebukuro find exciting, while it remains mundane to the locals. He trails after her as they walk, and he doesn't know why he notices a familiar face off to the side, outside a comic book store, but he does notice, and he stops in his tracks. Vorona looks up at him questioningly.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Hey, I'll meet you up there. I need to ask someone something really quick.”

Vorona studies him. “Affirmative. I will go on ahead.”

Shizuo watches her go for a moment, and then he turns back to the comic book store, making his way through the crowd. A redheaded man is leaning against the building, his arms crossed. He grins up at Shizuo when he notices his approach.

“Well, well. Heiwajima Shizuo. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I don't remember your name,” Shizuo says bluntly, and the man laughs.

“Yeah, why would you? I'm sure you've got more pressing things to manage these days. You can call me Akabayashi, if you bother to remember it.”

Shizuo recognizes him from all that shit with Akane. Akabayashi also was there with the twins that day at the dojo, Vorona's first day of work.

“You know, don't you?” Shizuo asks, keeping his voice low. Akabayashi raises an eyebrow.

“You'll have to be more specific.”

“Cut the shit. You know what I am, and you know who did it. I wanna know why.”

“Well, let's see,” Akabayashi says, scratching his chin. “As I recall, you don't keep your head down much. In fact, you've gotten involved in plenty of things you shouldn't have been. You know that already, so your pressing question really is who, isn't it?”

“I already know Izaya ordered it. I wanna know who it was that did the dirty work.” Shizuo glowers at Akabayashi, hating how amused the man seems. He's not scared of Shizuo in the least. It's refreshing, but it's also irritating.

“Don't make assumptions that we take orders from the likes of that brat. Anyway, yeah, I know who did it, and so would you, if you saw him. He's laying low for now, under orders. I can't give you a name. You understand.”

“Bullshit, I do!” Shizuo snaps, and he lifts Akabayashi up by the collar of his suit. “Give me a name, dammit! It's the least you fuckers can do after you all stood back and let me turn into this— thing!”

“This is the problem with youngsters like you. You're too emotional. It's okay, kid, I was like that before, too, but this city has a way of beating passion right out of you.” Akabayashi doesn't seems concerned at all, even as his feet dangle. In fact, he looks like he's having a blast. “You'll know in due time. A little patience would do you good.”

“It's been seven months,” Shizuo says, offended at the idea he hasn't been too patient already.

“And? What do you want, a medal?”

“You fucker—“

“They had it! They really had it!” A small, excited voice says, and Shizuo finds himself looking down into the wide eyes of Awakusu Akane. She's carrying a bag from the store, clearly over the moon about her purchase.

“I'm glad,” Akabayashi says. “You can tell me all about that story of yours while we get lunch.”

“Shizuo-san...” Akane whimpers, and Shizuo releases Akabayashi. “You're not here to fight, right?”

“I was thinking about it,” Shizuo admits, “but I decided against it.”

“I'm not ready to fight you yet!” Akane says, her voice more determined now. “But I will be! I'm trying extra hard at the dojo, and I can challenge you soon!”

“I look forward to it. Just don't work too hard, okay? Getting strong means taking it easy sometimes, too,” Shizuo says, putting a hand on her head.

“Right! I'll do my best!”

“Anything else, or can I take the little miss to our lunch date?” Akabayashi asks, and Shizuo glares at him.

“I'll ask you again later.”

“Go for it! Maybe I'll give you an answer. Maybe you could ask that information broker friend of yours, too.” Akabayashi turns on his heel, pulling Akane along with him with one hand, his cane in the other. “Or then again, steer clear of that one. He's not right in the head.”

“Bye, Shizuo-san!”

Shizuo growls after them, and then he goes to meet Vorona. Akabayashi was right; Shizuo does have more pressing things to worry about.

***

After parting ways with Vorona at the train station again, Shizuo considers going to see Shinra and asking about the dreams he's been having, but he decides he'll do it later. He had a good day, and he doesn't want Shinra dampening it with his overstepping. Especially while Shizuo has something else even more terrible to deal with.

He knocks, and it takes a few moments for the door to open. Finally, an irate brunette appears, glaring at Shizuo.

“What do you want now?” she asks, and her voice sounds accusatory, as if Shizuo is interrupting more than just her current peace.

“I'm here to see Izaya,” Shizuo says, and she rolls her eyes.

“I didn't think you were here for anything else. Come in, I guess.” She steps to the side, allowing Shizuo inside. He doesn't see Izaya anywhere.

“He left something for you,” she says, moving to the corner. She emerges with a large box in her arms, and she shuffles towards Shizuo, letting him take it from her. “He said he knew you were coming, and that he didn't want to see you.”

“Of course,” Shizuo spits, taking the box that's filled with his potions. He doesn't know why he expected to see Izaya here, why he's disappointed he didn't.

“Please tell me you didn't give him anything to use against you,” the woman says. Shizuo frowns at her.

“What was your name again?” he asks.

“Is that really relevant? I'm your mortal enemy's secretary, and I also hate him. Watching him be angry about you is one of my few joys in life.”

“That's pathetic,” Shizuo says, feeling a vindictive sort of satisfaction when her lip curls at him.

“I wasn't looking for your approval. Answer my question.”

“Where is Izaya?” Shizuo asks, bypassing her and her scrutiny.

“Does it matter? Out. I thought you'd be happy. Now answer me, dammit. What's he holding over your head? Is it worth seeing him so frequently? To my understanding, the two of you only crossed paths before by accident, and it was always antagonistic.”

“If you hate him so much, you shouldn't work for him,” Shizuo snaps, disliking her and her unwanted insight into his life. “You seem capable enough to handle yourself. What do you need him for?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she says flatly, and he scoffs.

“Yeah? Well, I asked you first. The thing is, we both know what we're getting from him, right? And neither of us feel the need to share it with anyone else.”

“Whatever. Sue me for wondering. I won't take pity on you again.”

Shizuo is all but shoved from the apartment, the box of potion vials in his arms. He doesn't like anything about the way he feels, but he trudges home, his stomach in knots the entire way. Not seeing Izaya feels like an omen of sorts, like a harbinger of things to come.

***

He dreams later, first of nothing, and then of that same room, of the twins screaming in their cribs, and Izaya crying out in fear. It seems like the slate has been wiped clean, like this version of Izaya never spoke to any version of Shizuo. But that's accurate, isn't it? This is all pretend. It's all just a dream.

“Why do you keep coming back here?” Izaya's voice asks, and when Shizuo meets his eyes, it's the present version of Izaya. He's standing in the corner, right beside his past self, who doesn't seem to be able to see either of them now.

“I don't know,” Shizuo says. He's not a kid this time. He's towering over Izaya, but of course Izaya isn't backing down. “How are you doing this?”

“Me?” Izaya asks, incredulous. “How am I doing what? You're the one spying on my past.”

“I'm not the one with magic!” Shizuo roars. “Don't act like I'm invading your privacy, not when you're the one who's always linking us. It's not my fault that it goes both ways.”

Izaya pales, as if this thought only just occurred to him. He recovers quickly, schooling his features, turning away from Shizuo in a show of nonchalance.

“You got what you wanted from me. You got your potions, the ones that keep you so fucking tame—“

“Who are you to tell me what I want?” Shizuo interjects. “I never wanted to deal with you at all, especially so frequently. And even then, you couldn't leave well enough alone, right? You had to start haunting my dreams, too.”

When their eyes meet again, Shizuo is filled with a sudden onslaught of understanding, thoughts he knows aren't his own. Izaya isn't doing this on purpose, doesn't know how it keeps happening, doesn't like it any more than Shizuo does. Shizuo's mind is almost impossible for Izaya to pull away from, like a black hole, and even with Izaya trying to pull back, Shizuo doesn't seem to be allowing it. In fact, Shizuo is strengthening the link by being here, by interacting with Izaya's past. He's the one pulling Izaya in, like a child in desperate need of company.

“That's not true,” Shizuo growls, not appreciating Izaya's comparison. He can't help looking over to the younger version of Izaya, who is still crying pitifully. Shizuo feels the need to protect him from his future self's callous words, too, even if he can't seem to hear anything other than the twins and the ghost terrorizing them.

“In case you haven't noticed, I have been leaving you alone. I'm incredibly busy, and every time I actually manage to sleep, here you are, poking around. Snooping. Don't you have better things to do, like entertain that Matryoshka doll of yours?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo whirls back to face him, his mouth a twisted snarl of rage.

“Don't you fucking talk to me about her.”

“Don't talk to me at all. Get the fuck out!” Izaya shouts, and the door behind Shizuo opens. He's yanked backwards by an incredible force, and he falls through the doorway. He keeps falling through black nothingness, images flashing before his eyes as he does, memories he knows aren't his own. He tries to grab onto them, tries to make sense of any of them, but he can't. They're gone as soon as they appear.

Right before he hits whatever ground is below, he jerks awake, finds he's twisted himself into his sheets and managed to topple over into the floor. Cursing, he untangles himself, and he thinks back to the dream, at least, the parts of it he can remember. The image of a young, nervous Izaya talking to older men in fine suits is at the forefront of his mind.

Miles away, he knows Izaya is awake, too.

#with teeth fic #shizaya #Shizuo Heiwajima #Izaya Orihara #werewolf shizuo #witchy izaya

24 notes · View notes

ghstandpucks · 4 years

Text

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch. 3

A/N: Hey everyone, thanks for all the love on the last chapter! I loved seeing that you enjoyed it! Also thank you to @pumpkinpatchmakar and @pizzasloot for your kind words after my update post <3

I do know where the story is going, and I’m excited to write it all out! Just bare with me, between school and my heart being broken, it might take longer between chapters but I will get to them!

Tags are open, just let me know! Enjoy!

Prologue Ch.1 Ch.2

Nate was halfway to his apartment when his phone rang; an incoming call from his captain. “What’s up?” he asked as he answered.

“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for the past hour,” Gabe asked. Nate now realized that he had seen all those calls and texts, but after getting your number he forgot about them. He cleared his throat.

“Sorry Landy. I was at the rink with Y/N,” he stated, unsure of what the captain’s response would be. When Gabe remained quiet, Nate became a bit nervous. “You there?”

“Y/N? As in Coach Y/L/N, Y/N?” he asked, and Nate could hear Gabe’s amusement over the phone.

“Yes,” he answered shortly. Gabe laughed.

“What happened? Practice ended 3 hours ago, what have you guys been doing…or do I even want to ask?” Gabe said suspiciously.

“It was nothing like that. I heard someone still on the ice when I was about to leave and went to see who it was. It turned out to be Y/N and she was just skating around and asked me to skate with her,” Nate explained as he pulled into his apartment complex.

“Oh, so she’s just Y/N now? Seems like you two got close,” Gabe chuckled. Nate groaned as he parked. Maybe telling Landy wasn’t the smartest thing. “Please tell me you at least asked for her number or something before you left.”

“I did actually. I asked her as we were leaving,” Nate said, quieter than he needed to.

“Wow, okay. She’s definitely got you interested, doesn’t she?” Gabe sounded amused on the other end. Nate mumbled out a yes, knowing he wasn’t going to be living this down anytime soon. He was happy with the little progress he made with you, but now he was sure Landy would look for any reason to bring you around, not that Nate wouldn’t enjoy seeing more of you anyways though. “Well, I guess that brings me to why I was calling in the first place. Mel and I are taking Linnea on a hike on Sunday and we’re inviting some of the guys to go since everyone is pretty much back in town. I was inviting you, and I think you should see if Y/N wants to come. I don’t think she really knows anyone here yet, and Mel wants to meet her. After I tell her about your afternoon she’s going to be dying to meet her,” Gabe chuckled. Nate perked up hearing that he had a legitimate excuse to text you right away, instead of trying to play it cool.

“Yeah, I can ask her,” he said, a little too eagerly.

“Great! And make sure you pick her up. She doesn’t need to drive when she doesn’t know where anything really is,” Gabe suggested, knowing his friend lacked skills in the romance department. Nate rolled his eyes, but he was grinning at the thought of seeing you away from the rink.

“I know Landy. I’ll text her and see. I’ll let you know,” he said as he entered his apartment and plopped down onto his couch, saying goodbye as his captain became distracted by his daughter.

On the other side of the city, you had fallen onto your own couch and immediately got on facetime. “Superstar! How are you doing sweetie?” Jeremy asked.

“I think I just gave Nathan MacKinnon my number,” you said in one breath, throwing a pillow over your head. Jeremy laughed.

“You think?” he asked. You threw the pillow off and looked at him.

“I gave him my number. I stayed after to skate and he was still there and I have no idea where I got the courage but I asked him to skate with me and I taught him some skating, he taught me some hockey, and it was just really fun and then he asked me for my number…” you rambled off.

“Hey, deep breath Y/N. That sounds like you both had a nice time. And is it really so bad to give an attractive hockey player your number?” Jeremy tried to be sympathetic because he could see the wheels spinning in your head. He had known you for too long to not know where this was going.

“He’s on the Avs though Jer. I’m technically his coach. How is that ever going to work?” you asked.

“I don’t know Y/N, I wish I could tell you. But it seems like you are starting to like this guy, and if he likes you too then I’m sure you can figure it out. Don’t overthink it. I’ve seen you do that a few times, always putting your career first. And although that worked then, you can’t keep running from everything outside of the rink,” Jeremy tried to reason with you.

“I know,” you said, knowing he was right.

“And know that whatever does or does not happen, I will be here as your biggest supporter,” he said. You smiled at him.

“Thanks Jer. Sorry, I don’t know why I freaked out,”

“Because you are starting to like him,” Jeremy smirked. Your phone chimed and you briefly caught the text from a number you didn’t know at the top. Tapping on it, you saw that it was from Nate. Before you could read anything else, Jeremy laughed. “And I’m guessing that is him?” You nodded.

“I guess some of the team are going on a hike Sunday and he wants to know if I want to go,” you stated, your smile growing.

“I want to hear all about this hike when you get home,” Jeremy said. “Hang up with me and text your Doug Dorsey back.”

“This is not the premise of Cutting Edge,” you laughed at his mention of one of the main characters. Jeremy shrugged.

“He’s a hockey player. You’re a figure skater. Close enough,” he said, before saying goodbye as he had to run to a team meeting. You hung up and opened up Nate’s text. It read: Hey Y/N, it’s Nate. Some of the guys are going on a hike on Sunday and I was wondering if you would like to join us? Mel, Gabe’s wife, is going and he said she’s been wanting to meet you. If you have plans no worries. Just thought I would ask. You smiled, seeing as you had no plans for the weekend beside finishing unpacking and would rather spend some time getting to know the team better…and Nate.

Y/N: Hi! That sounds like fun. I would love to go as long I wasn’t intruding on a team thing. You answered. You were a little worried that your presence would be unwelcomed, being a coach. Your phone pinged with another message.

Nate: No you wouldn’t be. You were about to reply when a text bubble popped up, and the following appeared. I would like for you to be there. You were happy this wasn’t in person as your face became flushed.

Y/N: When and where? 😊 Nate texted you to be ready at 9am on Sunday, and told you where you would be going. He said he would pick you up, and you gave him your address. And as the day continued, you continued to talk with him. Saturday came, and neither of you had technically said goodbye as you fell asleep texting him the night before, so Nate didn’t feel like it was too much, too soon to continue your conversation the next morning. You were giddy when Sunday morning came and you were getting ready. You felt that you had gotten to know him a little more and were excited to spend some more time with him. Right on time at 9 in the morning, there was a knock on your door. You looked in the mirror, fixing your hair quickly before answering it. Nate stood there in basketball shorts and a t-shirt, holding two cups of Starbucks. “Good morning,” he smiled as he handed one to you.

“Morning!” you replied as you took a sip, humming contently as you tasted the pumpkin spice latte. “Is this why you asked what I liked from Starbucks?” Nate shrugged as you turned away to grab your jacket off the back of your couch.

“I’m just hoping you’ll forget about making me do those extra laps tomorrow,” he teased as he looked around your apartment. It was small, but not too small, with a few boxes still sitting in the corner. “Are you still not unpacked?” You let out a sigh.

“I have too much crap. I need another bookshelf,” you shook your head and took another sip, exiting your apartment. “But flattery will get you everywhere in my book. I may overlook your extra laps.” Nate chuckled as you locked the door behind you and followed him to visitor parking. You blushed slightly as he held the passenger door to his car open for you. The both of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment as he started to drive, enjoying your coffee. “So, who’s all going today?” You finally asked.

“Landy and Mel, Tyson, Burky, and Cale I believe. Landy invited pretty much everyone since we’re all back in town, but I think everyone else was busy,” Nate explained. You nodded.

“Well I’m excited. Thanks for inviting me to tag along,” you smiled over at him.

“Of course,” Nate smiled over at you quickly. You kept casual conversation as you made it to the outskirts of Denver and what looked like would be a pretty hike to an overlook. Nate parked and off to the side you saw Gabe with a beautiful woman and a toddler in one of those carrier packs standing under a tree. As you made your way over, Nate leaned down and whispered. “Don’t let Gabe start showing you pictures of Linnea; you’ll be sitting there for like 3 hours.” You giggled, catching the attention of Gabe. The woman who you assumed was his wife, turned also and smiled widely.

“You must be Coach Y/L/N. I’m Mel, it’s nice to meet you!” She said, pulling you into a side hug as to not squish her daughter.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you too!” You replied, barely missing the not so subtle wink Gabe sent Nate.

“Hey Coach, glad you could join us” Gabe said, “This is our daughter Linnea,” he introduced the little blonde haired, blue eyed girl. You smiled at her tired little face.

“She’s absolutely adorable!” You squealed looking at the little girl. You weren’t necessarily a kid person yet, still being in your early 20s, but this little one was just too cute! Just then the others showed.

“Eww who invited our coach?” Tyson grinned at you. You made a face at him, about to respond before Gabe beat you to it.

“I’d rather have her here than you,” he said as Tyson feigned hurt. The others laughed and after greetings were exchanged you all started to walk. As the guys walked ahead, you walked along with Mel and Linnea.

“So how are you liking Denver?” she asked cheerily.

“The weather is a nice change from SoCal, that’s for sure,” you let out a soft laugh. “I’ve really only been to like the rink and the grocery store, so I haven’t been able to explore much more than this. I was happy when Nate invited me to hike with you guys so I could see a bit more,” you smiled.

“We should go get lunch then one day, and go shopping! If you would like to. I know hanging around the rink with the guys gets a little old,” she said sincerely, and you couldn’t help but feel excited at the possibility of making a new friend.

“That sounds like fun! I’m not used to being around this much testosterone.”

“Yeah they are terrible sometimes.” You both started to laugh, catching the attention of the guys in front of you. You locked eyes with Nate, and blushed slightly under the grin he was sending you. Tyson walked over to the two of you and slung his arm around your shoulders.

“Coach, I have a question…” you looked at him apprehensively and he gave you a sly grin. “Who is your favorite so far?” Nate you automatically thought, but were nervous to say out loud.

“Well it’s definitely not you,” you replied, shrugging off his arm to the chirps of everyone else.

“I bet it’s Nate,” Andre spoke up with a grin, Nate shooting him a look. You tried to think of something quick to say, seeing as Nate was looking as uncomfortable as you were starting to feel.

“No, he has extra laps to skate tomorrow,” you tried to joke, hoping to ease Nate. It worked, he grinned at you and chuckled.

“You don’t even know if you can enforce that,” he teased back.

“I will figure it out!” you yelled back dramatically. The rest of the walk went like that, with the guys chirping one another, and dragging you and Mel into it. At some point after talking a bit to Cale, you ended up next to Nate as your little group came to a stop at a look out point. The trees were turning color with the season and everything looked pristine and beautiful. When Mel suggested taking a group picture. You automatically started to back up and were about to offer to take the picture when Nate gently placed his hand on your back.

“Your part of this group too. Don’t be trying to sneak off,” he smiled at you. You were about to reply that it was okay when Andre spoke up.

“Yeah Coach. Grace our picture with your Olympic winning smile.” He said, sending you a wink. You laughed and shook your head.

“Oh God. That one hurts my face,” you admitted. You were known for always smiling throughout your routines. Even if you fell, you kept your smile. By the end of a four in a half minute long program though, that smile usually felt forced and plastered, even if it didn’t look that way. Andre turned his camera around as a selfie and held it up since he was the tallest. You were toward the back with Nate, his hand still on your back and you stood on your toes to try to be taller, your short frame looking incredibly small next to the larger bodies around you. After the picture was taken and sent to everyone, you and Mel exchanged numbers as you all continued the hike back to your cars. It was just after 1pm and you all decided to get lunch. You enjoyed your time with everyone and were starting to feel like Denver could be home. After lunch, Nate drove you back to your apartment. You were slightly sad the day was coming to an end. He parked and insisted on walking you up to your apartment, even though you assured him it wasn’t a big deal. Opening your front door, he eyed your still packed boxes again.

“You know, I could help you put together a book shelf if you’d like,” Nate said, face flushing a bit. You thought it was adorable, someone as large as him flustered.

“That’s kind of you, but I have to go buy one first,” you smiled at him. He shrugged.

“I can go with you. You might need help carrying it,” he smirked and you let out a laugh.

“Wow, I think you are just really trying to get out of doing those laps tomorrow,” you shook your head.

“Are you really going to make me do those?” he asked, leaning against your door frame.

“I’m not sure yet, I haven’t decided,” you shrugged, making him chuckle. You looked up at him and couldn’t help but smile, the thought that someone might actually care about you as a person, and not because of your accolades filling you with immense joy. He was offering to help you build a bookcase after all. “I might just take you up on that offer though.” Nate smiled and pushed himself off your door frame and extended his arms to you. You gave him a hug and have never felt quiet as safe so quickly as his large frame enveloped you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Coach,” he said as he pulled away from you and winked.

“Have a good night Nate,” you smiled. As he walked away you shut your door. Walking further into your apartment, you plopped down on the couch and got your phone out of your bag. You saw you had a few new followers on Instagram, some from the team and a few of their significant others. Mel had tagged you in a picture, and you saw it was the one you had all taken, along with one of just her, Gabe and Linnea. You went and posted the picture as well, captioning it “I’m not sure what I like about Denver better. This team, or the view?”

You busied yourself the rest of the day and checked your Insta around dinner again. There was a comment from Tyson. “This team is the view.” You couldn’t help but laugh and be thankful that you ended up in Denver.

tags: @bqstqnbruin @avsfans95 @andreiaafaria

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagines #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon x reader #cutting edge

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Text

the art of making a move at a kegger

jj x reader

word count: 2877

warnings: drinking, cursing, and towards the end almost sexual content but not actually

synopsis: harboring feelings for jj + getting drunk doesn’t always equal the smoothest of times but it all works out in the end

requested by @maybebanks really hope you like it!

JJ wasn’t on your radar until he slept through three quizzes in a row during your 8:00 a.m. English freshman year. He sat across from you, and you thought he was pretty cute, even when he started showing up wearing Pike letters. Which coincidentally is when he started falling asleep during quizzes.

One morning, when the professor left the room and you were packing your backpack, you heard JJ clear his throat. You glanced up, unsure if it was for you or not, and caught him smiling at you sheepishly.

“Hey,” he mumbled, running a hand through his unruly hair, “I was wondering if you had the readings for Thursday, I lost the syllabus.”

You pulled out your planner, “Yeah, it’s Act 3 of Hamlet and a part from the textbook on dramatic irony, pages 176-179.”

He quickly jotted it down on the corner of his notebook and smiled tiredly at you, “Thanks so much, I can’t keep failing these fucking quizzes, my grade is cheeks right now.”

“Is everything okay?” you cautiously asked, you didn’t want to push but you were a little concerned about the cute boy.

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair again, “Hazing shit, they’re making the new pledges stay up. I haven’t slept a full night in two weeks.”

“That’s, uh,” you weren’t really sure what to say, “not okay?” You settled on.

With a shrug, he tugged his backpack up and pushed in his chair, “Yeah, well, I guess it comes with being a legacy.” And then he was gone.

After that first interaction, you and JJ chatted every so often. Sometimes you’d let him cheat off your quizzes because they were pointless anyway and sometimes, you’d ask your professor to repeat one of the questions so he could get a second chance to answer if he was running late.

The last day of the semester he brought you coffee, “I just wanted to thank you for everything this semester, and I was hoping I could get your number so we can keep in touch.”

The next semester you had two classes together, much to your shock. When the two of you started to hang out outside of class to study for statistics, you learned some stuff about him. He was from the Outer Banks and he had a rough childhood. He was also receiving the Pell Grant so school was totally paid for, his only expense was the frat.

You also learned that the two of you were the same major and had to take all of the same courses, so the two of you decided to try and register for some of the same classes. It didn’t always work out, you had priority scheduling as a note taker for at least one class every semester and sometimes when JJ went to schedule, your section was already full. But sometimes it did work out.

Either way, the two of you always studied together. You used to go back and forth between apartments, one week was yours and one was JJ’s, until he moved into the frat house and no work was meant to be done in those walls. That atmosphere was conducive to parties only, something else JJ loved.

One afternoon, fall of your sophomore year, JJ balled up a piece of paper and threw it at you. It bounced off your forehead landed in your open coffee cup, and you looked up and glared at him, “Was that necessary?”

He gave you an innocent look, “Do you have plans next weekend?”

“I mean, we have a test the next Monday so I’ll probably be studying.”

JJ took the last sip of his coffee, “I have a formal and I need a date, wanna go?”

“Not particularly,” you responded with a shrug.

“No strings attached,” JJ told you, “promise. My friend from home, Kie, normally comes with me, but she has her own shit to do, and me and you get along. If you don’t go, I’ll have to take a stranger and then I’ll be bored.”

You’d been to some of the parties his frat threw, you knew he wouldn’t really be bored all night, he just didn’t want to have to actually work to get a date. Not that he’d have to work hard, his good looks would pretty much guarantee him a date. But you were a little intrigued, so you agreed.

“Great,” he told you, clapping his hands, “let me know what color your dress is and I’ll get a matching tie.”

“Fancy,” you told him with a smile.

“Kie loves matching, she’ll be proud,” JJ responded, and it made you really curious about Kie and the rest of his friends, but you didn’t ask.

Eventually you would get to meet them. JJ invited you to go home with him for spring break and he showed you around the Outer Banks, took you surfing, and threw a party that almost rivaled the ones his frat normally threw. Meeting his friends was nice, but really getting to know JJ was nicer. That’s when you started to complicate the ‘no strings attached’ deal, you felt yourself catching feelings.

By the time senior year rolled around, you were the most tired you’ve ever been. School was hard, having a job while doing school was harder and your social life was suffering. You still hung out with JJ a lot, mostly to study or to unwind and just watch TV, but he was really the only person you spent time with on a regular basis other than your coworkers.

Late on a Saturday afternoon, you were already in your pajamas, studying for an anatomy test, when there was a knock at your apartment door. Startled, you wrapped the blanket you were sitting under tightly around your shoulders and cautiously walked to the door. Peering through the peephole, you saw JJ standing there, looking at something on his phone.

You threw the door open, “What are you doing here?”

He looked up and smiled, “I’m here to kidnap you.”

“What?” you asked blankly, not really in the mood.

JJ pushed his way past you and sat on a barstool before answering, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how miserable you’ve been lately. When’s the last time you went out?”

And, God, when was the last time you’d done something fun? You sighed, “Fuck, I don’t know, like maybe a month ago when we went to that basketball game.”

With a hum, JJ stood up, “Get dressed, Pike’s throwing a kegger tonight.”

You didn’t even think twice before tossing the blanket onto the couch and going to your closet to find something to wear. JJ turned the TV on while you got fully dressed, minus makeup. Peeking your head out, you caught JJ’s attention, “Can I do my makeup at the house?”

He nodded, “Yeah. You almost ready because I’ve gotta pick up the keg soon?”

“Let’s go.”

JJ locked the door behind you and the two of you walked to his truck. The music blasted as soon as he cranked it up and he turned it down with a sheepish smile, “My bad, the song playing when I got here was a banger.”

Plugging your phone in, you put on the collaborative playlist you and JJ made together. He turned it back up a little and peeled out of the parking lot to the nearest liquor store where his frat normally got their kegs.

You bought cups at the convenience store next door while JJ loaded the keg into his truck, and a few pods because you were low and JJ was almost always out. JJ was leaning against the truck when you met him back in the shared parking lot, and he handed you a Twisted Tea, “For accompanying me on this adventure, madam.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” you responded, cracking it open and took a deep sip before climbing back into the truck to head to the frat house.

JJ left you to finish getting ready while he helped everyone set up for the party. You joined him eventually, having finished your first drink, and helped lock all bedroom doors and put all valuables away.

By the time people started arriving you were happily tipsy, hanging onto JJ while he talked to some of his friends, sipping beer slowly out of your assigned cup at the house. You were over there enough that you’d claimed one of your own and all the other guys that lived there respected it for the most part.

The party started to pick up and one of JJ’s frat brothers called you over to attempt a keg stand. You’d always wanted to try but never had, so you handed JJ your cup and kicked your feet up, trusting the two guys were ready to catch you. They did and someone put the spout into your mouth.

A crowd gathered around you and started counting loudly. You made it all the way to a minute before kicking to be let down. Slowly the two guys lowered your feet and your vision swam while beer bubbled in your throat. You almost choked but managed to swallow while everyone cheered around you. JJ wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Not bad for a first time!”

He topped your cup off and guided you away. You cleared your throat, “Thought I was gonna puke for a second there.”

“You turned a little green when you first came down, how you feeling now though?”

“Feeling fantastic,” you told him earnestly, swaying in place.

JJ chuckled, grabbing your shoulders, “You got plans tomorrow?”

“Anatomy.”

“So that’s a no, I won’t cut you off then.”

“Don’t cut me off, please,” you told him seriously, trying to focus on his face.

He gave you a little two finger salute, “Aye aye madam.”

You lost track of how many drinks you had as the night went on. Sometime during the night, JJ disappeared and came back with something besides beer for you which was really nice and you thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. He just laughed and squeezed your shoulder before going off to talk to someone else.

When the party started winding down, you attempted to find the Uber app on your phone to call a ride home. JJ tapped your shoulder, startling you, and in your clumsy, intoxicated state, you dropped your phone. It slid out of your eyesight and you glared at him, “Pick it up, J.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, amused.

“Goin home, party’s over.”

“Why don’t you just stay here?”

“Can’t make it up the stairs,” you told him seriously.

JJ raised his eyebrows, “You live on the second floor of your apartment building, at least here you have me to help you up the stairs.”

He had you there. So, you nodded and he took you to the kitchen for a clean cup. JJ filled it with water and made you drink two before leading you to the stairs. You lifted your foot to put it on the first step and almost fell over. JJ reached out but you shushed him, as if his silence would help you focus more on not falling over.

On the second try, you managed to climb up one step and immediately shuffled close to the wall so you could lean your whole body against it for balance while attempting to climb. It was a really slow process, but you were too stubborn to ask for help, and JJ knew better than to try to help you when you were feeling stubborn.

JJ stayed one step below you to help in case you started to fall backwards. Eventually you made it all the way up and immediately forgot which door led to his room. Huffing a laugh, JJ grabbed your wrist and led you to the second one on the left.

You sat down on the bed and went pretty much boneless at the comfort of finally not being on your feet.

“Fucks sake, dude,” JJ muttered, pushing you up into a sitting position.

“No,” you whined, fighting to lay back down.

It wasn’t hard for JJ to keep you sitting up, “You’re going to be so pissed if you wake up in your clothes with makeup on, you need to change and get ready for bed.”

He was right again, but you didn’t have the comprehension level to remember how to do that so you shrugged in response. JJ sighed and helped you kick your shoes off before going to get you a change of clothes from his drawers. You somehow managed to get your shirt off and your shorts unbuttoned, but he had to help you get the new shirt on and change shorts.

The guy JJ shared a bathroom with’s girlfriend left makeup wipes and JJ helped you get all your makeup off. You kept making faces to be difficult because you liked the furrow between his eyebrows as he tried to focus on being gentle.

“I will intentionally poke you in the eyeball if you do not stop,” he warned.

Pouting, you poked his cheek, “Don’t bully me, I’m drunk.”

He threw the wipe away and looked at you exasperatedly, “Brush your teeth, your breath smells like a liquor store.”

Giggling, you grabbed your spare toothbrush from the drawer next to his and sloppily started brushing your teeth. JJ was standing behind you and leaning on you, trapping you between the counter and his body so you didn’t fall over or sway.

The bright bathroom lights plus the water were clearing your brain a little, but you were still gone and not really able to focus on anything for more than a few seconds at a time. You leaned back to feel his chest moving as he brushed his teeth and giggled at the feeling.

JJ sighed again and gently nudged you out of the way to spit and rinse in the sink and you followed suit, having forgotten to do so yourself. You followed him out of the bathroom and grabbed his hand as he led you back to his room.

From what you could remember, JJ slept on the left, so you climbed into the right side of his bed and stretched out comfortably. He crawled in behind you a few minutes later, and you turned around to look at him. He had a small smile on his face as he looked back at you and reached up to push a piece of hair that had fallen in your eyes out of the way.

Suddenly, you were overcome by the urge that you’d been fighting for over a year and you leaned forward to kiss him. He froze and you almost regretted it until he started kissing you back.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours but could’ve only been minutes until he rolled the two of you over so you were on your back and he was hovering over you. Your lips were only separated for a few seconds before he was kissing you again, more deeply than before.

Sighing into the kiss, you brought a hand up to his head and ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned lightly at the feeling and you felt a hand creeping up your thigh. Before it could get too far, you nudged his shoulders back to catch your breath. He kept stroking your thigh and you shifted, “Hey, can we wait maybe?”

“Wait for what?” JJ asked you, confused.

“To fuck,” you told him bluntly.

JJ huffed out a surprised laugh, “Oh, uh, yeah definitely.”

You grinned at him sheepishly, “Sorry, you’re my best friend and if we’re going to do this, I want to be sober and you know, really ready.”

“Right, yeah, I totally get it,” he reassured you, dropping back down next to you.

You sighed as he wrapped his arm around you again. Lifting your head, you let it rest on one of his biceps and drank in his facial features. He held onto one of your hands and played with your fingers, not looking at you directly.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, feeling a little uncertain.

JJ looked at you, furrow back between his eyebrows but a little different than before, “I’m the one who should be saying sorry.”

“What?” you asked, feeling the urge to press the wrinkle until it went away.

“For forcing myself onto you,” JJ mumbled.

Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t keep up with the conversation, “Wait what?”

He wouldn’t meet your eyes again, so you lifted his chin until the two of you were almost nose to nose. JJ shut his eyes, “You’re really drunk, I shouldn’t have ever returned the kiss because you might regret it in the morning.”

“No, I really do like you JJ, I just,” you paused, trying to find the right words, “I just want it to be special, I guess,” you trailed off, hoping it made sense.

JJ smiled gently and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, “We can talk about it tomorrow, yeah?”

With a giant yawn, you nodded and the last thing you remember is him running a hand through your hair and tangling your legs together.

#jj maybank request #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fluff #outer banks fic #outer banks #obx #pike!jj #frat!jj

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thirstyforoc · 3 years

Text

🎂

I know his birthday was a couple days ago but my brain doesn't work that well and I'm always early for everything else, I can be late for this.

Here's something to read that's probably not great and wordy and rambly and really only relevant to my own interests. I had to hammer this out because I just had to and it took longer than I expected because I can't shut the fuck up. Read it if you feel like it or don't, I'll still love you either way.

Using real names so don't keep going if that bothers you. I didn't post the picture but I make a reference to that one pic of him at Medieval Times, you know the one, at least I hope you do. Enjoy.

Idk, I just like picturing every single birthday Dustin and Jim have spent together since they became friends. Sue me. I have too much time on my hands and like to think about their relationship so I have to get this out. Here. Take it.

It's early in their friendship, a few years in. They're in Philly for a show and Dustin knows it's almost Jim's birthday, he's aware it's coming up but he forgot what day it fell on and that it was so soon until Jim brings it up. He's never super sober or super clear on what day of the week it is, that's just how he lives. If anyone has a problem with it that's on them. Jim never seems to take issue with it though. Maybe that's why their friends?

It's the Friday before his birthday. They're hanging out at Dustin's place before heading to the show and Jim reminds Dustin when his birthday is. "Tuesday? Your fucking birthday is on a Tuesday this year? Gross. Jim Day on a Tuesday. Lame."

Jim laughs a little, the soft laugh he always gives Dustin when he's being a certain kind of ridiculous or obnoxious, like he can't believe he's saying what he's saying. "You know I don't get to pick what day my birthday falls on, right? Tell me you know that. I need to hear you say you know that."

"I mean, yuck. What's there to do on a Tuesday?"

"I dunno. I don't really have any plans this year." Truth be told Jim's not all that concerned with how he's going to spend his actual birthday. Perhaps he'll do something with friends or family back in Jersey? Maybe he won't. It's not a big, special, milestone birthday or anything. No reason to go all out.

Dustin absolutely, positively will not shut up about it. No matter how many times Jim grunts or rolls his eyes Dustin just keeps talking and babbling about how it's a crime for someone's birthday to fall on a Tuesday. Jim's on the verge of asking Dustin exactly what is wrong with Tuesdays anyway when Dustin pauses to look right at him. "We should just start now."

"Huh?"

"Today."

"Today?"

"Yeah. Like, spend the whole weekend partying. Today is your birthday. Tomorrow is your birthday. Keep the Jim Day train on the tracks through Sunday, Monday, your actual birthday. You said you didn't have plans, right? Just stay. You'll stay and it'll be like...like one long birthday instead of a fucking boring ass birthday on a Tuesday of all days. Yeah, you'll stay and...and you'll stay and we'll find things to do every day. So, you'll stay." It's never a question. It's already been decided that Jim's going to agree. Dustin never sounds uncertain, says it with such confidence. He's not fearful even for one second Jim might say he isn't down.

Dustin wants him to stay so Jim does. Sure, he's got things he could be doing at home, was planning on staying maybe through Saturday and heading back Sunday morning, Sunday evening at the latest but he could stay. Yeah, he will stay. Dustin wants him to stay so he's staying.

Work will go on without him. He'll call his family and tell them something came up. If his parents or siblings are upset they can find a way to celebrate his birthday once he's home and recovered from what's bound to be a bender if he knows anything at all about Dustin. Dustin wants him to stay. He'll stay.

Man, go home where he's made no plans, where there's no party, and most of all no Dustin or have the time of his life all weekend with one of his best friends? Wow, that's a hard choice. Dustin really seems to want him to stay so he's staying.

Friday night they head to the nearest bar after the show is over, close down the damn thing and stay up laughing and talking on Dustin's couch for three hours once they get back. They're not even paying attention to the time, neither one cares. Drinking and partying with all their wrestling friends was fun but at the end of the night it's nice that it's just the two of them. It's nice.

The next morning is a bit rough. Ok, they aren't conscious until afternoon but 2pm counts as morning when it's Dustin and Jim you're talking about. Saturday-it's Saturday, right?-is pretty much the same only the drinking begins much earlier, like pretty much as soon as they're both showered and get some food in their stomachs. Day drinking is a lot of fun, so much fun that a short nap is necessary before they head out to meet their friends again. Actually, they kind of passed out together on the couch watching tv, it was completely unintentional and unplanned. They probably would have slept the rest of the day away if not for Dustin being startled awake by Jim's loud snoring. "Thank god we don't live together." Dustin thinks for a moment while watching Jim sleep. Well, maybe that wouldn't be all bad. Whatever, can't think about it too long, they have to get up.

Saturday night is even wilder than Friday night. They drink too much. Way too much. They're tanked. Bombed. Blitzed. Completely fucked. Dustin kept buying them shots and when their bar tab got a little too high he simply shifted to telling everyone who would listen it was Jim's birthday, coaxed a bunch of other drunks into buying them more shots.

Sunday is the worst. They're suffering when they finally roll out of bed and off the couch for good and both agree easily, immediately they should take it easy today. There's a shitty, cheap diner close to Dustin's place so they stop there to eat dinner, share a huge plate of greasy diner food that Dustin pays for. Friends keep asking if they're coming to the bar again but both of them are in rocky shape from the night before. They sit Sunday night out, convalesce on Dustin's couch quietly, chug water and make small talk while they recover.

Monday evening Dustin takes Jim to Medieval Times because the little guy has talked about it so many times since they first met, drops hints constantly about how he wants to go-not this weekend but Dustin remembers him mentioning it-so Dustin figures now would be good. It's the little hunk's birthday after all.

On the drive there they swear they're going to take it easy, agree to have a couple glasses of wine with dinner and call it good. What a crock of shit. After cracking open their third bottle of the night Jim insists he's going to sit on that throne because he'll look badass so Dustin follows. He follows his little drunk blond friend everywhere, why wouldn't he? Gotta keep tabs on him, make sure he's safe, keep eyes on him. Jim doesn't ask but Dustin takes several pictures of him on that throne, laughs the entire time because Jim is hilarious and fun and cute, really fucking cute, especially with almost two bottles of wine in him.

"Ooh. C'mon." Jim grabs Dustin's wrist so fast he damn near drops his phone, leads him towards the photo booth in the lobby. The little shit is lucky Dustin has some cash on him, Dustin can tell from the look on his face he isn't going to take no for an answer. Jim shoves Dustin in first and almost crashes down on his lap, drunk on wine and apparently really fucking excited about them taking pictures together.

The booth is tiny. The seat is narrow. Jim's a compact little guy but Dustin's certainly not. To say they're crammed in there would be an understatement but they manage. Dustin forgets to look where he's supposed to look, far too preoccupied with staring at the little blond planted on his lap. "King for a day." Jim laughs, flashes Dustin a huge, vibrant smile as he points to the novelty crown on his head.

Maybe Dustin's going soft? Maybe he had more wine than he thought? Maybe they've spent a little too much time together the last few days? Maybe. Maybe not. All Dustin knows is it's easier for him to blame the urge to kiss Jim right in this photo booth on one of those things instead of being honest with himself and admitting he has feelings for the guy.

"Maybe Jim shouldn't have such pretty pink lips if I can't kiss him." Definitely can't say that out loud. Hold on. Rewind. Go back to the beginning. Jim's drunk and smiling and the booth is still snapping pictures of them. "Say something that doesn't involve his lips, you moron!"

Easier said than done. Dustin's brain makes it sound so simple. The truth is it's really difficult, borderline impossible to stop thinking about his pretty mouth. Jim's still looking at him so Dustin smiles back, reaches over and brushes his fingertips across Jim's cheek. "You're always a king to me, baby." Why the fuck did he say that? He would have been better off just kissing Jim. Jim just laughs, a huge, easy laugh that goes on until the little voice in the booth tells them to wait outside for their pictures to process. Jim climbs off his lap and the moment is over, gone, finished just as quickly as it came. Oh well. Maybe next time. It's not like Dustin's going to forget he wants to kiss him anytime soon.

They're so drunk at the conclusion of their night at Medieval Times they need to leave Dustin's car there and catch a cab home. Whatever. He'll have someone drive him back so he can pick it up in the morning. They had fun. No harm done. A friend gives them both a lift to pick up Dustin's shitty old car and they're already out so they kick off Tuesday by going out for brunch. It's a lot pricier than the greasy spoon diner by Dustin's place and they'll both be broke by the time they're done celebrating but that doesn't really matter does it? Birthdays only come once a year and today is literally Jim's birthday. It's Jim day.

They're full of delicious food by the time they're through and stop at a liquor store to buy supplies for mimosas to drink at home because they both agreed it'd be the cheaper route. They're not trying to get hammered, just sip throughout the day and maintain a nice buzz until it's time to head to the bar. It's Tuesday. Fuck, when did they start this again? Who cares. It's Tuesday. It's Jim Day. It's not until almost midnight on Tuesday that Dustin realizes neither one of them has bothered to talk to a single girl all weekend. Huh. Weird.

Shortly after midnight they toast with a couple shots of whiskey. They call it a night before last call and pick up the most unhealthy food they can find on the way back to Dustin's place, devour it while relaxing on his couch. That's where they fall asleep too, Jim slumped over in a heap on Dustin's shoulder, Dustin simply smiling before putting an arm around the little guy and drifting off shortly after.

Wednesday is pretty chill. Jim's actual birthday has passed and they've been going pretty hard for the last few days. Dustin's suggestion to hit up the grocery store and make dinner at his place is half because they're almost broke and half because they're both sorta worn out. Jim agrees, seems happy about it if Dustin's being honest and that's a relief. He's not much of a cook but for Jim he'll make an exception. It is his birthday, or was his birthday. It may never end, may never stop being his birthday.

They leave the dirty dishes in the sink and waste the rest of the night playing video games, stay up damn near long enough to see the sunrise before they remember it'd be a good idea to get some sleep. It's strange watching Jim curl up on the couch that final time. Dustin knows he's got to go home at some point. The guy doesn't live in Philly, doesn't live here. He's got a life to go back to. He can't just spend all his time hanging out, that's ridiculous. Dustin knows it's completely, utterly ridiculous but he wants Jim to stay. He can't stay.

When they finally wake up on Thursday Dustin is oddly nervous, uneasy. They've never spent such a long stretch together, this is easily the most he's seen of Jim, the most time they've shared since they became friends. It's difficult to admit to himself but Dustin liked it. He liked having Jim around. He liked what he saw. Yeah, they were already friends, best friends but it seems different now and Dustin isn't sure what to do with that knowledge, that feeling.

Time for Jim to leave comes quickly. Before Dustin's had an opportunity to process everything that transpired from the time Jim got to his place Friday afternoon to now Jim's ready to make the trip home. It sucks. There's got to be another excuse, another reason to ask Jim to stay, right? No. He can't do that. He won't do that. Jim can't stay. His birthday has passed. Back to normal, regular life. He'll see Jim in a couple weeks for the next show anyway. He can't stay.

Dustin's not expecting Jim to hug him goodbye. Normal people, friends hug goodbye all the time, he's not sure why it comes as a surprise when Jim's hands are on the back of his neck and the little guy is mumbling something about how much fun he had, thanking Dustin. "You're welcome. Happy birthday." Dustin barely manages to say. Fuck, he's such an idiot. He's not even hugging Jim back. He really should do that.

He does hug Jim back after a few awkward moments, squeezes him a bit too tight judging by that little noise Jim just made. Why else would he make a sound like that? Dustin eases up, lets go of his waist and looks down at his little blond friend. Yeah, this sucks. What, like he's supposed to spend almost six full days with a guy like Jim and not be bothered when it's time for him to leave? He can't stay.

He can't stay but Dustin's not about to let Jim escape without joking around with him one last time. "So, same thing next year? Holy shit, your birthday is gonna fall on a Wednesday next year! Lame. A birthday on a Wednesday is even worse than one on a Tuesday. Gross, dude."

"Shut up. Your birthday rolls around first, remember? Let's plan for that first."

"Deal."

#I swear this was supposed to be short #I just think they're neat #I'm going back into my hole now don't look at me

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karasimpno · 4 years

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{Day 24} The Party Goes With You | Kuroo x Reader

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Gn!Reader

Genre: businessman!poker-playing!Kuroo AU, angsty-knight-in-shining-armor moment, angst/pining

WC: ~1.3k

Warnings: suggestion of unhappy/borderline abusive marriage, alcohol, gambling, cigar use

⍋⋆*❅｡. 25 days of fic-mas mlist .｡❅*⋆⍋

And we’re dancing nose to nose Darling do you suppose, oh darling do you suppose this party could be just us two? — The Party Goes With You; 35mm (music and lyrics by Ryan Scott Oliver)

You don’t speak of names or faces, but there is one face that always stands out to you.

Well, part of a face, rather, as the businessman with the immaculately-pressed suits always seems to let his hair hang down over his right eye. He’s all flashes of white teeth and heated golden gazes as cigar smoke swirls around the dimly-lit back room of the seemingly hole-in-the-wall bar. His lips move flawlessly as he tells joke after joke, keeping conversation moving as he robs the other players blind.

Though you usually work the front bar, serving cheap, disgusting drinks to equally foul men, on Saturday nights, you’re required to play dealer in the high-stakes poker game that is run out of the discreet back room of the bar. Your husband owns the place but owes money to every player, so he’s never there. But he thought his high-profile patrons could use a pretty face and a nice body to look at while they weekly gamble away some of their highest earnings—the bids rising to numbers beyond what you could ever make in a year.

Dealing is simple. The actual game itself is surprisingly not very heated, considering the fortunes at stake. But the gentleman with the hair as black as pitch and the shining golden ring on one of his nimble fingers is what keeps it so. The cant of his voice and his relaxed posture, suit jacket slung over the back of his chair, keep everyone in amiable spirits, energy flowing between them like the liquor through their veins. His lips move flawlessly as he charms his competitors, periodically lifting a crystal glass with his favorite Armagnac to them as locks eyes with you over the rim of his drink. He is dashing to say the least, and his gaze makes your body temperature rise, but you manage to keep your posture indifferent as you shuffle and flip the cards. With light conversation in sultry tones, the evenings are always interesting, as renowned businessmen do their best to outdo each other, racking up substantial bar tabs all the while.

Oh, and your favorite part.

In addition to taking the pot, at the end of every round, the player with the most winnings earns an added prize: a dance with the alluring dealer. You’d be exaggerating if you said that your mystery man wins every round, but certainly not by much. He ends up on top in a good 90% of the games.

“Sorry, fellas,” he always smirks devilishly, rising from his seat as the losing players grumble, throwing their cards down on the custom-made black felt. In spite of yourself, your heart skips a beat every time he extends his long fingers across the table to you. With a smile that you attempt to tame into mere professionalism, you accept his hand. Ever so gracefully, he lifts your joined hands over the heads of the other players, carefully guiding you from your nook in the table to the open space adjacent to it. Some of the players get up and wander into the front bar to buy more liquor. Others stick around and busy themselves chatting about their businesses and dealings. But you hardly ever pay attention to any of that, as the moment his firm hand snakes around your waist, pressing heavily but comfortably against your lower back and pulling you fast against his chest, everything else fades into the background.

He’s clearly an excellent dancer—feels like he could have studied ballroom dancing—but all you ever do with him is sway and spin as he speaks lowly into your ear, incapable of being heard by the others. He pulls you so close that you feel like every part of you is touching him as your chins hover over each other’s shoulders. He doesn’t speak of husbands or wives or work or his life at home. He always just speaks of the oddest things, some fun new fact, or something interesting he saw the other day. Neglected by your husband, this man makes you feel sexy, and wanted, and alive with your hand wrapped in his strong but surprisingly gentle one. Respecting your privacy and knowing your husband, he doesn’t ask you about yourself but you love just to hear him talk. He always comes up with the most interesting things to tell you and you love that about him.

You didn’t love your husband. Maybe you never did, but he’d grown so aggressive with you since making you manage his debts, the bar, his patrons...you had nothing left for him but resentment. But something about the dashing businessman whose name you don’t even know has you finding a spark in your life again.

“Alright boys,” he always says with a characteristic grin when he’s had enough gambling and drinking for the night. Some weekends it’s ten or eleven. Other weekends it stretches into one, two, once even three in the morning before he called it quits, his competition unraveling into drunken stupors as he stayed just as cool and collected, even as the empty brandy glasses began to accumulate around him late into the night. Your husband had instructed you to continue to deal for as long as the players were making bets.

When the man with eyes as brilliant as the sun stands to make his final call, he slings his discarded jacket over his shoulder, his other hand resting confidently on his hip. The other players chatter amongst themselves, murmurings of “maybe one more game,” or “should we stick around for another drink?” but they almost never do. When he makes his move to leave, the party goes with him. You often find yourself getting distracted watching him walk out the front of the bar with no hurry in the world, each slow step after step making your field of vision narrow down even smaller, until it only encompasses him.

You catch yourself sighing and are snapped back to the reality of what’s left behind: a bunch of men no different than any of the schmucks you serve at the front of the bar, the only difference between them being the withdrawal limit on their checking accounts. Whereas the mystery man always makes a point to thank you before he goes, his golden eyes halting on yours, the rest of the men attempt to sober themselves up and stumble out of the bar with grunts and dirty looks, leaving the mess of their indulgences behind.

And you’re left to daydream, thinking only of the man who comes in once a week, like a shadowy whirlwind of passion and excitement, dashing in and out of your life every Saturday night. The weeks are long, your husband is cruel, and the patrons at the front bar are unforgiving. Cleaning up after messy customers, you long for the weekend to come around, for the sight of that one man who makes your heart race and sweeps you off your feet before even touching you. You wish you could go back and rewrite the story of your life so that you met this man before your husband, and you could live a happy life together, just the two of you. Sometimes you catch yourself daydreaming of what a domestic life with him would look like, and remind yourself that he doesn’t even know your name, nor you his.

But when you’re dancing nose-to-nose, heat emanating from his chest and warming you from head to toe, you can’t help but buy into the fantasy that maybe he feels the same way. You want to ask him what he thinks, always desperate to know more—more about him, more about what he thinks of you, more of the way he sees the world, more, more, more from him. But the dance ends too soon, and you’re back to your role as dealer, him as player. The cards flip through your fingertips but all you crave is your fingers on his skin. The dream is as fleeting as a lead in the game.

And when he goes, the party—your life, your love, your spirit—goes with him.

A/n: okay this song is EVERYTHING to me but to me it’s always captured more of a feeling than like an easily interpretable scene for me. Phrases like “speakeasy, hole in the wall” and “cleaning up for vows in gold” and “the gayest party sad but true” just stick out to me and like I’ve always struggled to like ground it in some kind of narrative. BUT I took little nuggets in the song and became really attracted to the like singer falling in love with someone they barely know but see/serve all the time in sort of a bar setting. I was also really inspired by this scene in Molly’s Game (which is a good movie if you haven’t seen it)....I just love the idea of businessman Kuroo in like a cigar smoke-filled haze, drinking nice brandy, pulling you close and whispering sweet nothings in your ear......phew. This one is for my girl @bluntkingkuroo And THANK YOU GUYS so much for following along for such a fun event! I hope you all liked it!!! Xoxoxoxo -Elle

taglist: @slutawara @musicgetsmeoutofbed @azo-musxas @tsumurai @ghostlydiamond135 @animeboysimppp @honeybunny-sawamura @harokat

#kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo angst #elle writes #25 days of ficmas

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kalaluchi · 3 years

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chapter 03: Game Night

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Marinette found that she could say no to a lot of things.

She could say no to Chloe’s attempts to give her a makeover, she could say no to Kim’s challenges to a 50-meter freestyle race, she could say no to Nino’s invites to a movie screening with a bunch of friends. (Especially on a school night. Waaaay too much work to be done, sadly.)

And usually, usually, she could say no to her best friend Alya’s elaborate schemes.

But apparently not when it was disguised as a harmless game night with some of their classmates.

And definitely not when her best friend got her super ultra crush, the gorgeous Adrien Agreste, to be the one to invite her.

“Hey, Marinette,” he said, walking up to her one day. “I heard from Nino that Alya’s planning a game night this weekend. A sort of class bonding activity, I’m guessing. Seeing as you’re Alya’s best friend, I take it that means you’ll be there, right?”

Marinette suddenly wanted to strangle said best friend. Alya most definitely did not say anything about a game night the last time they talked. This invitation reeked of “Alya Césaire’s Half-Brilliant Plan #143” or whatever the brunette liked to call them. Marinette was fairly sure her best friend would try to pull something to get her and Adrien together.

(Not that she was complaining. She appreciated it, of course, but one still had to be wary when dealing with the great fairy godmother Alya Césaire.)

But more importantly-- how dare Alya not warn her that Adrien would talk to her that day. Then Marinette could’ve at least worn the new top Alya had said looked cute on her.

“Uh,” Marinette hedged, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse to avoid all embarrassment , “I’m actually not sure if I can be there since I have… things… to do. I also have...stuff.” She gulped. “Yup, that’s… that’s what keeps me busy… things and...stuff.” She smacked herself internally.

“Oh, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing you there. I heard you’re a master at board games.” He chuckled, and, no, Marinette’s heart did not flutter and her cheeks didn’t burn at the sound. “But I get what you mean about… things… and stuff. Life of the busy, eh? Try to take breaks when you work, though, ‘kay? Good luck with… things and stuff. Uhm, see you around, Marinette!”

Marinette forced a smile as he turned away. Don’t cave, it’s for your own good, don’t cave, don’t cave, don’t--

“But!” Marinette added suddenly, causing Adrien to turn back in surprise. “If that’s the case, I mean, psh, what’s one weekend, right? I could… probably push my schedule back a bit, have some fun for once. I think I deserve this,” she said firmly, talking mostly to herself.

Adrien grinned, and her heart skipped a beat at the way his eyes shone with excitement. “That’s good to hear! I agree, you deserve this break. See you Saturday night, then!”

With that he walked away, leaving Marinette imagining that he’d said those words in the context of a romantic first date, perhaps a candle lit dinner after a cheesy film, and not in the context of a seemingly harmless game night where she was almost sure her luck would abandon her only for the fates would laugh in her face.

Alya told everyone the game night would start at 8pm. Naturally, this meant Marinette had to be at Alya’s place at 7:30pm, helping set up.

“So, what game are we playing,” Marinette asked, trying for a nonchalant tone as she opened a bag of chips.

Alya laughed aloud. “Ha! Nice try, Mari. But no spoilers. You’ll find out at the same time as everyone else. Now can you pass me those vases? I’m betting Kim’s gonna knock them over if we don’t put them away.”

Marinette handed them over with a sigh. “Okay, that’s fair. But I already know you’re up to something. Isn’t it just easier to tell me your plan so I can mentally prepare for it? Who knows, I might even choose to play along.”

“Plan…? I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Alya turned away, but not before Marinette caught the mischievous gleam in her best friend’s eyes.

She was about to press further, when there was a knock on the door. “Yo, Alya!” Nino’s voice. “Open up, will ya?”

“Coming!” Alya shouted back, carefully stepping around the pillows she’d set up on the floor. Just like that, the matter was dropped as the guests started pouring in.

There were about 10 of them, all talking lively as they sat on the floor around a table. Marinette started passing around bowls of chips while her best friend got the stuff for the games from her room. She tried to hold on to one last bowl though, eyeing the pillow-seats at the far end of the room and trying to come up with an excuse to go over there and hand Adrien the bowl herself.

She was halfway there when Alya suddenly appeared. “Esteemed guests!” she announced in a loud voice. “I have, behind my back, the game we will play tonight. We’ll be playing--” She paused for dramatic effect, making sure everyone’s eyes were on her. “-- the Modified Game of Life, aka Game of Life: Alya Césaire edition!”

Marinette inwardly groaned, her own plan forgotten. Handing the bowl of chips to a seated Juleka, she made her way to a pair of empty seats in one part of the room -- one for her, one for Alya of course. Despite her initial want to approach Adrien that night, a part of her told her she should be grateful she wasn’t seated next to him.

“Alright, everyone, settle down!” Alya said, obviously excited to be facilitating. She took her place next to Marinette and grinned. She moved to open the box… and paused. And looked around the room as if deep in thought. “Actually,” she said, “I kind of want to sit beside my boyfriend.”

Marinette’s eyes widened, knowing where this was going. “Alya,” she hissed, “don’t you dare--”

“Adrien!” the brunette called across the room. “I was wondering if I could sit beside Nino, but I don’t want everyone to move one seat up just for me. Is it ok with you if we switch places?”

“Sure,” the blond said easily, getting up.

All Marinette could do was open and close her mouth as her best friend gave her a wink and a squeeze of the hand. “Good luck!”

Luck? Why would Marinette need luck?

“Hey,” Adrien greeted as he sat down beside her. “You ever played this game before?”

“No,” Marinette said through gritted teeth, “I actually have not.”

“Ah. Me neither, of course. May the best… Life-er win, I guess?”

Despite her apprehensions about the game, Marinette had to laugh. “May the best Life-er win!”

The first few rounds, Marinette had to admit the Alya Césaire edition was pretty fun. Instead of the careers you might normally see in the game (doctor, engineer, accountant, etc.), this one had all sorts you could pick and choose from. 30 minutes into the game, Marinette was quite satisfied with her life as a professional fashion designer who lived in a 3.5 story all-pink cottage-house with her pet ladybug, turtle, bunny, cat, horse, and snake, and who loved to fight crime in her spare time.

Naturally, that was when everything went wrong. Okay… not everything. And not wrong, if Marinette had to be honest. But still.

Of course it was Adrien’s turn to draw a card (right after Marinette got her fifth paycheck. Score!). And of course it was one of those marriage cards. But with a twist. Of course.

“Congratulations!” Adrien read aloud. “You’re married to the love of your life, the person on your right. Collect 2000 for your honeymoon.” He turned to the right, where Marinette was staring straight ahead, stiff as a board, trying not to let the blush on her cheeks spread.

So that’s what Alya meant when she said good luck-- good luck, I hope Adrien picks up the marriage card. She turned to her in-game husband, and forced a smile. “Woah, look at that. Married. Fun.”

“Uh, Adrien,” Alya called out. “I think there’s an additional note at the bottom.”

“Huh, you’re right.” He read it silently, then chuckled. “It says, ‘call your new wife ‘babe’ to get another 500.’” He grinned at the blue-haired girl. “What do you say, babe? Do you want to live the rest of our lives together?”

The only thing Marinette wanted at that moment was to melt into her shoes from embarrassment, but instead she managed to force out a, “Sure thing. Babe.” For a second Adrien looked shocked, and she thought she saw a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. But then he laughed and it was gone.

Which obviously left Marinette wondering whether she imagined it or not. So much so that she lost focus on the game until it was her turn again. And just like real life, the game proved yet again to be full of surprises.

She began to read aloud, “Woo-hoo, you got kids! Spin the wheel to find out by how many your family has grown. Married? Get more people pegs to put in the car you share with your spouse. Unmarried? Get more pet pegs to put in your car, and maybe some doggy wipes while you’re at it.” She spun the wheel. Three.

“Perfect,” Adrien said good-naturedly, reaching for the bag of pegs. “I’ve always wanted three kids. What’ll it be? All boys? All girls? Two boys, one girl? Vice versa?”

Marinette mumbled something under her breath, trying to fight back a blush.

“Hm?”

“Y-you can choose,” she stammered. “I, uh, I think I want more… food.” She turned away, pretending to scan the room. It was only half an excuse. She really had wanted something 10 minutes ago, but she couldn’t at the moment remember what.

“You want popcorn? It’s right--” Adrien stopped abruptly, caught off guard to find himself nearly nose-to-nose with Marinette.

How cliché. Horribly, horribly, absolutely cliché. Marinette felt her face heat up, though she was frozen in place.

“Honey,” she breathed out, finally remembering what she’d wanted to get. Honey to go with the cereal in her bowl.

“Yes, honey?” Adrien replied without missing a beat. “What was it you wanted?”

“Uh, n-no, not, no, I meant,” Marinette sputtered, unable to finish a coherent sentence for a full 10 seconds. She was pretty sure her face was beet red, right down to her neck. She cleared her throat, and stood up. “I’m gonna go look for the honey,” she said, praying he didn’t notice her blush.

Well played, Alya. Well played. From then on Marinette swore to never go near a Game of Life again.

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#adrinette april 2021 #adrinette #miraculous ladybug #idk what im doing sorry #ml #mlb #mlbcn #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #mlb fics #adrinetteapril2021 #game of life

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