#i drew this back when i first remembered the ass cigarette

[pradabambie]

the roommate. rafe cameron x reader x felix catton. pt. 4

masterlist

as felix exited the bar, following your boyfriend's tall figure, memories of the past months living with you flooded his mind.

living in such close quarters had magnified the subtle dance of emotions.

he recalled the late-night talks, the way you would fiddle with the clasps of his bracelets or trace your fingers over the stars tattoo on his hand whenever you talked to him, and the way it secretly made his stomach flutter.

he remembered all the late night talks in the balcony, all the cigarettes you two shared while laying on the grass, the sunlight made you look heavenly, he always thought to himself.

all of the parties, the shared quiet laughs in class—these moments lingered in his mind, etched with an ache he couldn't quite name.

felix couldn’t deny the attraction he felt towards you.

he always found himself stealing glances when you changed in your shared room, unable to resist the pull of his eyes. the way your figure moved, the subtle curves, and the casual grace in your actions created an undeniable allure for him.

he had never felt this way about a girl, it was always about sex with them, but not with you.

not that he didn’t think about it, he did. some would argue he thought about it way too much, but he couldn’t help it. he simply had to have you.

but of course there was rafe, and you would never.

to be fair, you found yourself in a conflicting whirlwind of emotions when it came to felix.

despite your committed and loving relationship with rafe, there was an undeniable, magnetic attraction to felix that tugged at your thoughts.

you couldn’t deny the subtle flutters when felix was near, the way his wit and charm drew you in.

you struggled to admit, even to yourself, the undercurrent of feelings you had for felix. it was a silent acknowledgment, buried deep within, as you navigated the complexities of emotions.

the guilt lingered, but so did the unspoken attraction that added a layer of tension to all your interactions.

as felix opened the door, the chilly night air embraced him and rafe, as they stood outside the pub, the distant sounds of the party acting as a faint background melody.

rafe took a deep breath, trying to clear the tension that had built up inside him throughout the evening.

"so, rafe cameron, the infamous boyfriend," felix remarked, breaking the silence.

he leaned against the wall casually, his eyes studying rafe's reaction.

rafe shot him a sharp glance, unamused. "cut the act. i know exactly what you're doing."

felix raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "and what, my dear, might i be doing?"

rafe crossed his arms, a defensive stance. "you're trying to get under my skin, testing how much i can take."

he was used to this kind of thing. i mean come on, was this the first time another boy wanted you? of course no. he was used to all the dickheads in the island wanting to get his hands on you.

that’s why rafe made it his number one priority to make sure everyone knew you were his, and if he had to kick some pouge ass to do so, he was ok with it.

so let’s say he was not that threatened.

felix's playful demeanor softened, "look, i get it. you're protective, and that's cool with me. we’re just friends.” a hint of sadness breaking through. he wanted to be more than that, and he knew it.

rafe remained silent, his expression unreadable.

“just friends, huh?"

felix sighed, a wry smile on his face. "yeah, friends. and to answer your unspoken question, i know she's yours. i know." his stomach turned as he said the words.

rafe raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and suspicion in his eyes.

felix chuckled. "relax, mate. now, why don't you head back inside? i'm sure she's missing you."

rafe regarded felix for a moment, then turned to make his way back into the pub. as he disappeared inside, felix let out a soft sigh, watching him go, a tinge of sadness in his eyes.

later, back at the table, felix announced, "hey, everyone, i've got an early morning thing with ollie so i should get going. i'll crash at his place. give you two some space," he declared, flashing a smile in your direction, yet there was a subtle hint of longing in his eyes.

leaving you with rafe, felix felt a sense of loss. the special connection he cherished felt like it was slipping away, making him long for the times when it was just the two of you navigating the uncharted territories of friendship.

on the other side, rafe's expression shifted from annoyance to a subtle sense of triumph.

contradictory thoughts invaded your mind. why were you upset that felix was leaving? you had wanted a night with your boyfriend since you got here, but now… it was different.

“let’s go, princess” rafe got up and took your hand “i’m in the mood to show you how just how much i missed you” the boy said while smirking.

your mood switched, and you smiled back “okay rafey” maybe you just needed to be reminded of who you belonged to.

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: With the events of last fall in the past, you attempt to move on, still working on your academics and babysitting Dustin. You and Steve have drifted since your encounter with the otherworldly, but he begins to make more active efforts to talk to you, making sure you have an invite to Tina’s big Halloween party.

Content Warning: swearing, stancy, reference to upside down stuff, billy being an ass, college application stress, drinking, anxiety and trauma

Word Count: 6.3k

Author’s Note: Again, I’m trying to follow a lot of the plot lines of the series for this x reader, so a lot of it is probably a bit familiar! This part follows the reader’s involvement through Halloween, when things begin to turn sour again.

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Next Part

***

You took a deep breath as you looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Half-dressed for the day, your eyes couldn’t help but focus on the scars that littered your upper arm, remembering when they used to be deep gashes.

It had been about a year since you stood in the Byers’ house fighting for your life against the horrifying entity from what the kids elected to call the Upside Down. Though your physical wounds had healed, the emotional ones still lingered. Every once in a while, fear invaded your consciousness as you thought back to the flashing lights and the low growl resonating through the small family room. Sometimes when you closed your eyes, you could still see the rows and rows of razor sharp teeth, inching closer and closer to your face.

It was paralyzing, but you shoved those thoughts and feelings aside as you threw a long sleeve shirt on, covering the physical evidence of your fight against the supernatural. Stop thinking about that, you reminded yourself, it’s all over now.

The walk to Hawkins High wasn’t terribly long, though you did still wish you were fortunate enough to afford a vehicle of your own. Once you finally reached the parking lot, a car honk drew you from your thoughts and you were met with the familiar face of the one and only Steve Harrington as he smiled and waved from the driver’s seat. Sat next to him was Nancy Wheeler. Steve’s talk with her in the hospital evidently had been successful because they’d been back together since then, coming up on their first anniversary. You found it difficult to be happy for the couple, but you pushed the jealousy down in your chest and did a small wave back, a half smile on your face. Nancy didn’t respond with the same enthusiasm as Steve, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

The window suddenly rolled down and Steve called out, “Hey y/n! I’ll see you in study hall! I have a question for you!”

“Okay…? See you then, I guess,” you responded, a bit surprised. Since last year, Steve had rethought his life choices. He wasn’t the same douchebag he’d been when he broke Jonathan’s camera and called Nancy a slut. He dropped Tommy H and Carol, started focusing a bit more on school, and was generally a lot nicer than he used to be. However, despite the way you both risked your lives together, blindsided by the paranormal darkness lurking in Hawkins, you both kind of fell out of touch.

He had Nancy and you had…well, you had your studies. And your babysitting gig. One year strong babysitting the Henderson kid, and only one apocalyptic encounter. Needless to say, you were doing pretty damn good.

Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching on the pavement drew the focus of the three of you away from the semi-awkward encounter, watching as a car with California plates peeled into the parking lot. A boy you didn’t recognize stepped out of the car, flicking his cigarette behind him. A young girl emerged from the passenger seat, turning and making her way down the hill in the direction of Hawkins Middle.

You scoffed, being the impeccable babysitter that you were. Was this guy really too lazy to drop his kid sister off at her school that was less than a block away?

He swung his car door shut and paused, looking you up and down before sending a wink and smirk your direction and turning to make his way into the high school. Your hands gripped your backpack straps a little tighter, feeling like an object to be used or consumed under his gaze. You didn’t have a good feeling about this boy, and something told you that Hawkins High had found its replacement for the King Steve that disappeared when Harrington wisened up last year.

“Who is that guy?” You suddenly heard Steve’s voice ask, annoyance painted on his face. He wasn’t too thrilled with the way he had looked at you. Steve knew the type of guy he was; the type that wouldn’t take no for an answer, and in that moment despite the countless girls drooling over his dumbass mullet, he had zeroed in on you.

“Must be new,” you responded, forcing a smile in an attempt to demonstrate that the mystery boy’s actions hadn’t fazed you. You fought an otherworldly entity; surely you could handle some asshole jock. In a way, you already had, and look how that turned out.

“The two of you should steer clear of him. He’s bad news,” Steve warned. Nancy and you didn’t argue, nodding before you took off to enter the building so you wouldn’t be late for first period.

By the time you were on your way to third period study hall, you had already spent the morning contemplating what Steve could possibly have to ask you. It was your junior year, his senior, and while you were taking it for the extra study time, he was taking it to avoid coursework from one more class, largely using it as a time to take a school sanctioned nap. As such, normally you didn’t interact much during the one hour break from boring lectures and busy work.

“Hey,” Steve whispered as he slid into the chair next to you, a stark juxtaposition to the way he slammed his textbooks on the desk, causing you to jump.

“What? Not taking your spot in the back corner so you can sleep without Mrs. Reed giving you shit?” You asked, staring up at him innocently.

“Actually, I was thinking I could get us out of here for the hour.”

“And how do you suppose that’s going to happen?”

“I’ll put on the old Harrington charm…just watch,” he smirked as he stood up, grabbing you by the elbow to drag you to the teacher’s desk. Mrs. Reed was not the type of person to mess with. She wore her hair up in a slicked back bun that meant business, wearing a scowl like it was an accessory. You seriously doubted the “Harrington charm” was going to do shit to get you out of that classroom.

She glared at the boy through her thin wire glasses, clearly not in the mood for his shenanigans. “Is there a problem?” She droned out, her expression fixing further into annoyance, if that was even possible.

“Actually, Mrs. Reed, I’m afraid there is,” he started, “you see, y/n here was just telling me about how she has this big presentation in her fourth hour class, and she was really hoping for an opportunity to practice. Is there any possible way you’d be so gracious as to let us utilize one of the study rooms in the library? I mean, we can’t go letting Hawkins’ star pupil do anything less than ace this thing, am I right?”

He shook you by your shoulders a bit at the end, and even though the compliment was nothing more than a lie, you still flushed under the praise. It wasn’t everyday that you got complimented in front of your entire study hall class by the most popular student in the school.

“Is that so, y/n?” She turned to you.

“You know me and my nerves, Mrs. Reed; I could really use the help. And besides, Steve is probably about the most rowdy audience I could possibly have, so presenting after this will be a piece of cake,” you pasted a smile on your face. You felt bad lying to her; she’d been a pretty decent English teacher your sophomore year.

“Fine. Don’t worry about coming back before the end of the hour. I know I can trust you to keep Harrington in line,” she answered, glaring at Steve before turning back to the work on her desk, done with the bullshit of high school students; the good ones and the bad ones alike.

You both quickly thanked her before Steve grabbed both of your backpacks and you headed out the door.

“Okay, if I’m going to be completely honest, I was about 85% sure that wasn’t going to work. Mrs. Reed fucking hates me…like a lot,” Steve breathed out as he tossed you your bag, his cocky facade finally dissipating as he continued down the hall.

“This better be a good fucking question, Steve,” you grumbled, not happy about the lie he forced you into, “what am I supposed to do if she asks me about my presentation? What am I supposed to do if she talks to Mr. Hayes?”

“Woah, woah, woah, cool your jets,” he rolled his eyes, “Mrs. Reed is probably a year or two away from retirement and barely even cares about the shit she’s teaching, so I think you’re going to be fine.”

You entered the library, quickly moving to one of the study rooms. You tossed your bag on the floor, already tired from the day and not fully emotionally prepared to spend an hour one on one with Steve.

“Alright, what’s the deal?” You asked as you sat in one of the chairs, crossing your arms as your face fixed into a glare.

“Well, first of all, here,” he shoved an obnoxiously orange flyer at you. You grabbed it a bit aggressively, still not super happy with the boy in front of you. He had a dorky-ass grin on his face though, and it almost broke the cold exterior you were trying to keep up….almost.

“‘Tina’s Halloween Bash, come and get sheet faced,’ are you kidding me? This is what we’re skipping study hall for? Dude, I have an AP chem test this week that I really needed to study for,” you whined, shoving the flyer back at him.

“No, of course this isn’t the reason we’re skipping. I may be dumb, but I’m not an idiot,” he said as he shoved the flyer back at you, “It’s just…I know you never go out, a-and—and it’s Halloween! You can’t stay in on Halloween! Plus, Nancy and I are going to be there, so it’ll be fun, I swear it.”

He leaned across the table, the elbow of his right arm settling right in the middle as he reached his hand towards you. Your focus shifted to his extended pinky. You looked at him incredulously as he waggled it a few times, looking at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes. This boy was going to be the death of you, but you wrapped your small pinky around his anyway.

“I’ll consider it. That’s the best you’re getting.”

“You know what, I’ll take it. Which brings me to my next topic, and pretty much the entire reason for this in the first place, which is that Nancy thinks my application essay sucks and I really need some fucking help,” Steve leaned back while he ran his hands down his face.

You felt a pang in your heart because you knew how stressful this all probably was for the boy. You’d been smart and planned accordingly, so getting into colleges wasn’t the part that was stressing you out; it was the finances that did. Steve on the other hand had screwed around for two and a half years and now somehow needed to manage turning things around enough so that he had even a fighting chance.

“Just give it to me,” you sighed and he quickly handed over the essay he had written.

Steve watched your eyes scan the page as you read the words that he had spent the last week writing. He was a bit embarrassed, to say the least; he had taken one English class with you last semester and knew that he didn’t even write half as well as you did. Hell, Nancy didn’t even come close and her writing was really, really good.

“You…you compared winning a basketball game to your grandfather fighting in the war?” You asked incredulously.

“…yeah?”

“Steve.”

“I know, I know! It’s bad, but that’s why I need your help! I was gonna have Nancy help me but we have this thing tonight and I can’t miss it and—“

You cut him off. “Steve, stop talking. I can help you…but I think you’re going to have to rewrite this whole thing.”

Steve hung his head and buried his face in his hands. Of course I’m gonna have to rewrite the damn thing because it can never just be fucking easy. He felt your hands pull on his wrist and he looked up, finding you staring at him sweetly. A bit pitying, but it was still sweet. With that, some of his anger subsided and he took a deep breath.

“You just need to find something more meaningful to you. I mean, I can tell your heart really isn’t in this. Besides, sometimes the best essays are about the things you’ve lost, not the things you’ve won.”

Steve thought about this. He lived a pretty privileged life. He didn’t want for anything, his future was pretty much set so long as he took the job at his dad’s company, he had the girl, the car, the hair, etc. Sure, his parents kind of really, really sucked but that was small potatoes compared to all of the things he had easy. It was hard to think of something he really, truly lost.

He almost had lost you.

His thoughts flashed to the demogorgon, the way his heart stopped and instinct took over as he had swung the bat with all his might to get the damn thing away from you. He pushed the thought away and suddenly he wasn’t interested in working on this essay anymore.

“You know what? You’re right. I’m gonna need some time to brainstorm some things to write about, but in the meantime, how about we focus on that AP chem test, huh? I mean, there’s no way you don’t have color-coded flash cards and all that jazz”

“Steve, you really don’t have to. I’m sure you have a lot better things to do than to help me cram for some dumb test.”

“Hey, first of all, if it’s important to you, it’s not dumb. Secondly, I might be a shit learner, but I’m a pretty damn good quizzer, so hand ‘em over,” he motioned for you to hand him your index cards as you sheepishly pulled them out of your backpack in their color-coded glory.

“How could I have possibly known?” He feigned surprise.

“Shut up, Harrington.”

***

When all was said and done, you felt moderately better about your AP chem test. Steve wasn’t lying when he said he was a good quizzer; by now, you had every word on every one of those damn cards memorized. During your walk to the Henderson household, you pulled the bright orange flyer out of your pocket. You couldn’t help but smile thinking back to Steve inviting you. He wanted you to be there.

“Y/n!” Dustin drew you out of your thoughts as you quickly shoved the flyer back into your back pocket. The middle school and the high school let out at the same time. He wasn’t far behind you, sat atop his bike as he hopped off and walked with it next to him so he could talk to you.

“You can ride your bike home. I seriously doubt you can get into any serious sort of trouble in the five minutes it takes me to catch up,” you reminded him, though you weren’t entirely sure that was true; in fact, the boy was such a problem sometimes that you considered upping your rate to charge his mom for hazard pay.

“First off, I think you underestimate how much faster I can get home on my bike than you can on foot. Secondly, what was that you just put in your pocket?”

“It-It’s nothing,” you said maybe a little too quickly as your face heated up.

“Bullshit. Spill.”

You sighed. “It’s just some stupid flyer for a big Halloween party. Nothing that concerns you, unless you somehow age several years in the next few days and are suddenly eligible to attend,” you joked, sarcasm lacing your tone as you tried to gather your bearings and act more casual. He didn’t need to know that, to you, it was more than just some Halloween party; it was a Halloween party that Steve Harrington had invited you to.

“You don’t go to parties though,” Dustin was quick to remind you. He was right. Sure, early on in high school you’d been invited to a few, but after you continued to decline, people stopped reaching out.

“Well…there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” you muttered.

“Are you gonna dress up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who invited you?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Was it a guy?”

“No!”

“So it was a guy!” Dustin exclaimed. You rolled your eyes and jogged ahead, trying to put some distance between you and the incessant questioning of the boy you had the great misfortune of babysitting.

“Your silence is incriminating!” He shouted after you, unable to run very gracefully while attempting to guide a bike around.

You shook your head and sighed. Could babysitting Henderson ever be easy?

***

You walked towards Tina’s house feeling more than just stupid. You didn’t even know Tina super well outside of her always bumming notes off of you when she missed fifth period French. After your conversation with Dustin, you began considering the many elements of a Halloween party that had slipped your mind when you pinky promised Steve you’d go. You hadn’t thought about a costume because, frankly, you hadn’t initially been planning on doing anything for Halloween; it was just going to be another Wednesday for you.

As such, you had decided not to dress up, instead opting to pick apart your closet to find clothes that would maybe scream “party,” settling on your favorite pair of jeans, a low cut black tank top, and a denim jacket. So, yeah, you weren’t in costume, but at least your tits had kind of showed up to the party, so you decided that was good enough.

The mess of bodies dancing at different levels of sobriety made it difficult to navigate the front lawn and you hoped with all your might that Steve and Nancy were already there. You got closer to the front door when you heard the headache inducing sounds of high school testosterone as a bunch of the douchebags from Hawkins High hyped up Mr. California for doing an absurdly long keg stand.

Gee. Great.

As you reached to grasp the doorknob to let yourself into the party, a hand from behind you slammed the door back shut just as soon as you had opened it. You were met eye to eye with the mullet headed, leather jacket wearing douchebag himself. Something was off about this boy (besides the fact that he was unbelievably hammered), and you thought back to Steve’s warning to stay away.

“Hey,” he slurred as he looked you up and down, his eyes pausing longer than they should’ve when they reached your chest. You felt small under his hungry gaze, but you refused to allow yourself to visibly shrink so you straightened your posture and forced your chin up as you looked him in the eye.

“Excuse you,” you muttered as you tried to pull on the door handle again. Obviously it didn’t budge, and he laughed at your attempt. You scowled as you met his eyes again. “What’s your deal, man?”

“The name’s Billy. Billy Hargrove,” he shot you a smirk that screamed trouble as he extended his hand towards you, offering up a handshake.

What a total ass. Fortunately though, he was cocky enough to think that striking up a conversation would cause you to stay, removing his hand from the door, so you took the opportunity to maneuver past him, opening the door and slipping inside.

“Frankly, I don’t give a shit,” you added before slamming the door in his face. You saw the look of shock flash across his features before he disappeared from view and you couldn’t help but feel good about it. The feeling quickly dissipated though as you attempted to weave around the living room, nearly tripping as you made your way into the kitchen where you met Nancy.

“What’s in this?” She was asking a guy in a toga. You recognized him from your second period class, but you didn’t know his name.

“Pure fuel! Pure fuel! Whoo!” He shouted back at her, and you realized you were perfectly fine not getting to know him.

“Well, with that ringing endorsement, we’d be dumb not to have a little, right?” You chuckled and Nancy spun around at the sound of your voice.

“Y/n, you made it,” she said, smile not really touching her eyes, “Steve wasn’t sure you were going to show.” Both of you dipped red solo cups into the questionable mixture, filling them up with the red mix of booze and punch.

“Yep, here I am. In the flesh,” you laughed again, trying to dispel the awkward energy. Something about her seemed off; normally she would be much more friendly. You hoped that you hadn’t done anything to upset her. “Nancy, is everything okay?” You asked quietly as you gently grabbed her wrist.

“I’m fine,” she replied as her jaw set and her tone told you not to push the question. You let go of her wrist and nodded, letting her know that you were going to let it go for now. Her body relaxed and you lifted up your cup toward her.

“Cheers?” You asked with a half smile on your face. This earned you a small smile from the girl as she brought her cup up to tap yours. You smiled and both of you brought your cups to your lips, you taking a small sip while she threw her head back and downed the whole glass.

“Hey! Woah, woah, woah, take it easy! Nance!” Steve was suddenly beside you, reaching across you to try and grab the cup out of her hand.

“We’re just being stupid teenagers for the night. Wasn’t that the deal?” She glared at him before downing more punch, wiping away the bit that spilled onto her face, and shoving her way into the crowd to dance.

Steve’s expression fell a bit as he watched her leave, but his focus shifted to you. “Sorry about that. She’s just…in a bit of a mood today,” he apologized and shook his head, “but I’m so glad you’re here! I mean, I was pretty sure you were gonna bail on me considering I know for a fact that you were invited to some of my house parties last year and you didn’t show.”

“How dare I, right?” You rolled your eyes and chuckled. It’s true. You had been invited to his parties, especially after your encounter with the demogorgon had brought the two of you together in a weird but irreversible way. You would always have that experience, but you weren’t interested in changing for him. Besides, he was never the one to personally extend the invitation, instead you heard about it from someone else every time.

“You aren’t in costume.”

“Way to point out the obvious,” you retorted, finishing your first cup of punch. Steve shot you a look, clearly not trusting that you knew your limits with alcohol. “You’re joking, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it seems a bit hypocritical for the king of parties himself to be judgmental about someone else’s drinking habits.”

“Well, it’s exactly that. I don’t get the impression that you have drinking habits, and if it’s your first time drinking, you should watch yourself, you know? Can’t fault me for looking out for a friend,” he added and you bristled a bit at that last word. Friend.

“Y/n, what?” He asked, noticing your reaction. You sighed before responding, not really sure how this conversation was going to go.

“So…we’re friends now?” You asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.

Steve was taken aback, clearly confused by your confusion. “What do you mean? Of course we’re friends! Y/n, we went through so much together last year, I mean, did you really think I was just gonna drop you like all that shit didn’t matter?”

“You kind of did. It’s not like we hang out or really talk or anything remotely close to what friends would do. We’re just two people who know each other a little bit better than we did. I wouldn’t necessarily call that ‘being friends’,” you responded, putting air quotes around the final words. You hoped that your statement didn’t hurt him. It was the truth though. Your shoulders tensed as you awaited his response.

“You know what? You’re right y/n, and I’m sorry. I should’ve done more to keep in touch, and I’m not going to make any excuses. So let’s just start over, okay?” He asked, his big brown eyes staring into yours.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you nodded, not trusting that your voice wouldn’t fail you.

“Alright, perfect,” he smiled, and suddenly he extended his hand towards you, “hey, I’m Steve. I don’t know you but you seem pretty tough, and like you might have some killer fighting instincts, so I thought we could be friends.”

You laughed. Like really laughed, and Steve was beaming. You wiped away a tear that slipped from your eye as you took a breath to regain your composure. It was all so absurd and perfect and so incredibly Steve that you couldn’t help but accept his offer. You willed your palms not to sweat as you grabbed his hand and shook it, “Well, I’m y/n, and yeah, you’re right; I do have some pretty kick-ass instincts, but I can’t promise it will keep you out of trouble.”

“That’s okay because I’ve got some pretty kick-ass moves myself, so I think we’ve got it covered,” he added, smiling at you. He let go of your hand before saying “well, Nancy’s probably halfway to being shit faced, so we should probably go party it up with her while her memory’s still intact.”

You nodded as you turned to exit the kitchen, Steve placing a hand on your back as he guided you through the mess of people dancing to get to Nancy. It was fun to let loose and dance, and you wondered why you hadn’t let yourself party like this before. It felt freeing, and you felt the slight buzz from the drinks that you’d had as you let your body move to the music that was almost too loud to hear yourself think.

Suddenly, you felt hands around your waist, and you instantly sobered up, remembering a big part of why you didn’t like parties: asshole guys who were just looking for a quick hook up.

“Hey!” You shouted as you turned around, eyes met with the same piercing blue ones from earlier.

“Woah, no need to get all angry, baby. I gotta say it’s pretty hot though,” Billy chuckled as he moved his hands to grab at your waist again. You maneuvered away from his grasp, swatting his hands away.

“Can’t you tell I’m not fucking interested,” you replied.

“Baby, come on—“

You cut him off, “I’m not your fucking baby.”

“No need to be a bitch about it, come on. Can’t have a little fun?”

“She said she’s not interested, dude. Leave her alone,” Steve spoke up, having realized the position you were in. He moved to stand between the two of you, pulling you by the wrist behind him. Nancy was pretty wasted but aware enough to act, as she took your hand and pulled you farther away, weaving through the crowd to create some distance.

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware that you had two girlfriends, Harrington. I mean, I’m shocked you even have the one to begin with,” Billy retorted, taking a step towards Steve.

Steve stood his ground, knowing it wasn’t worth it to get heated over Billy’s comments. Billy just wanted to get a rise out of him and Steve wasn’t going to let him have the satisfaction.

“I’m just looking out for a girl that needs help. If you’re not going to listen to her maybe you’ll listen to a guy, okay? So walk away.”

“Whatever, Harrington,” Billy replied as he shoved Steve in the shoulder and turned around to walk away. Tommy H was hot on his heels, a mindless dummy and fair weather fan to whoever he deemed to be top dog at any given moment.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Steve caught up with you and Nancy.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Ugh, I just hate assholes, like come on!” You exclaimed, hugging your arms around yourself in an attempt to be self-soothing.

Steve opened his mouth to apologize when he realized Nancy was going back to the punch bowl. He quickly pivoted, following her into the kitchen. “Nancy, no, you’ve had enough, okay?” He said as he tried to grab the cup out of her hand again like he had earlier.

“Screw you,” she slurred, pulling her hand out of his reach and dunking her cup in the bowl.

“No, Nancy, I’m serious! Stop…Nance, put it down,” he warned, grabbing at the cup again. Nancy continued to protest, and Steve continued to fight it until he lost his grip on the cup and its bright red contents went spilling onto Nancy’s pristine white shirt. An audible gasp rang out through the party as those in the near vicinity stopped their dancing to gawk at Hawkins’ power couple’s power struggle.

“What the hell?” Nancy whispered as she stormed out of the room, and Steve pushed past you to follow, yelling after her. And just like that, you were alone. Without Steve and Nancy’s presence to calm you down, you felt your anxiety rise in your throat. You scanned the crowd, trying to find anyone that you knew moderately well enough to crash their group, and when you found no one, you cursed yourself for being such a loner. That was until your eyes met Jonathan Byers’, dressed equally un-festively, and you sighed a huge sigh of relief.

“Jonathan!” You shouted over the music, making your way over to him. Clearly he had seen what just transpired between Nancy and Steve, eyes darting back to focus on the hallway they’d disappeared down.

“Hey, y/n. What just happened?”

“Nancy’s pretty wasted and Steve was trying to cut her off and he spilled her drink on her. They’re probably in the bathroom trying to clean it up, though I doubt it’ll do any good. That punch is definitely going to stain.”

You didn’t know Jonathan super well, but you resonated with him. Both of you were more inclined to keep to yourselves, but via absurd and inter-dimensional means, ended up intertwined in the lives of your high school’s most popular couple. You saw the way he looked at Nancy when they talked, and it wasn’t dissimilar to how you looked at Steve; wanting for something that you couldn’t have but settling for what you did.

The two of you found a quiet corner and continued to make small talk, catching up on each other’s lives since you didn’t talk much. Jonathan told you about how Will was struggling, still visiting Hawkins’ Lab for appointments in an attempt to sort out his PTSD.

“The doctor says it’s some anniversary effect, and how since we’re coming up on a year, he’s just more on edge than usual. He’s been having these episodes though.”

“Episodes?”

“Yeah, they’re kind of like these waking nightmares I guess. He’s still scared out of his mind, y/n,” Jonathan explained, and you saw the pain in his expression. Your heart ached and you felt a lump in your throat as you thought about the way the poor kid was struggling. You wished you could just make it all go away, that you could erase it ever happening in the first place.

“And you trust this guy? The doctor I mean?” You asked hesitantly.

“He seems like a good guy. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like he’s being completely transparent. I guess I’m on edge too. It just seems like everyone’s bracing for something else to happen,” Jonathan added, and you felt the tension in your shoulders as he said it.

Suddenly, Steve stormed through the family room, Nancy noticeably absent. He quickly maneuvered through the crowd, reaching the front door and slamming it shut behind him.

You looked at Jonathan. “Divide and conquer?” You asked, knowing that the two of you were going to have to pick up the pieces of whatever had happened between the two of them. Jonathan quickly nodded, as you dropped your prior conversation. “Okay, I don’t have a car and Nancy’s not in a state to walk home, so you take care of her and I’ll handle Steve,” you added as you started walking backwards to make your way towards the door.

“Are you sure? He seems pretty mad.”

“I’ve handled worse!” You shouted back as you turned and swiftly made it out the door. Your eyes scanned the front lawn, still littered with people, but they quickly found the brown mop of hair that you had become familiar with just as he was reaching his car.

“Steve!” You shouted, but he ignored you, fumbling with his keys as he tried to unlock the door. By the time he finally managed to get it unlocked and opened, you had grabbed the side of the door so he couldn’t close it and drive off.

“Y/n, just leave me alone, okay? I’m seriously not in the mood,” he warned, his head hung as he tried desperately to avoid eye contact with you. His voice wavered a bit and you could tell by his body language that he was pretty upset.

“No, I’m not going to leave you alone; you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“Then get in the car because I’m not fucking staying here,” he sighed and you hesitated before moving around to the passenger seat.

“What happened?” You gently asked as he began to pull away from Tina’s house, the night that you had all been anticipating clearly ending in disaster.

“Oh, you know, just Nancy saying that our relationship is pretty much complete and utter bullshit which is what every guy wants to hear from the woman that he loves,” he replied. His announcement of his love for Nancy stung, but you pushed it aside; this wasn’t about your feelings.

“What do you mean? What’s going on? You guys always seem so happy together,” you were honestly pretty shocked. They were the perfect couple; the kind of people who would end up high school sweethearts and the talk of every high school reunion. It couldn’t possibly all be bullshit.

“The Hollands are selling their house to pay some private investigator to find Barb.”

Oh.

Your stomach dropped and suddenly your body seemed to remember the alcohol you had consumed.

“Steve, stop the car.”

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s going on? Are you—“

You cut him off, shouting “just stop the damn car! Now!” The car screeched to a halt as he slammed his foot on the brake pedal. You quickly opened the door, retching onto the desolate backroad that you were currently on. Steve rubbed big circles across your back as your stomach emptied its contents. When you were done, you shut the door, tears running down your face.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. Sometimes I just forget about all of it; push it all away because I’m not ready to handle it and I just think about what it was like to be face to face with th-that—that thing and I can’t imagine what Barb’s final moments were like and I just—“ your sobs cut you off, unable to speak through your horror in contemplating Barb’s death.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay y/n. I’m right here,” Steve reminded you, pulling you into a hug as you buried your face in his neck. He held onto you until you were able to calm down and you pulled away from him.

“I’m sorry. I monopolized your turn being the one in crisis,” you let out a weak laugh, wiping the remaining tears from your eyes as you sniffled.

“No, honestly that was helpful. I think I get where Nancy’s coming from a little better now. Maybe she didn’t really mean all that shit about us, you know?” He rationalized.

“Yeah, maybe,” you replied, your voice small.

“Hey, don’t disappear on me now. We’re handling this crisis together and we’re putting it behind us, okay? So what’s going on?”

“It’s just…I was almost her,” you whispered, looking in horror at Steve.

“What?”

“I was almost Barb. If you hadn’t shown up—“

“Y/n, don’t think like that. You can’t think like that. It’s going to eat away at you. You’re here. I’m here. And we’re okay,” it seemed like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you. You nodded, not entirely persuaded but ready to be done with the conversation. “Alright, where to?”

“Just mine, you know,” you said quietly, embarrassed that Steve was going to see your house. It was dinky compared to the Harrington residence. You knew he wouldn’t care, but you couldn’t help but feel inferior.

“Sure thing,” he replied as he put the car in drive, as you both attempted to put the evening’s sourness behind you. You chatted and caught up on all of the normal things you’d missed as you’d drifted apart this past year and by the time he reached your house, you felt a little bit better about things.

If only the two of you knew about the danger that was still lurking right under your feet.

***

a/n: I hoped y’all liked this chapter! I’m so excited to continue this story as we unpack all of the upside down nonsense of season 2! I’m new to this whole writing fanfic thing, so if you really liked it, I would be forever grateful if you would be so kind as to reblog it! It really helps it get to other people!

[madam-wakefield]

Open when... Chapter 12

AO3 Link FF Link

Summary:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 When a few years into their relationship Bernie is asked to go back to the army and deploy Serena isn’t sure how she’s going to get through the nine months without her girlfriend. What she doesn’t expect is for it to be her girlfriend who has the perfect set of surprises to get her through both the best and the worst days. Canon divergent - Elinor lives (well actually the accident never happens), Raf lives, and Cameron isn’t a total ass! The staff of AAU also probably didn’t all work on there at the same time in canon but do in this! The fic is already fully written with the first few chapters having already been Beta’d. 27 chapters including the epilogue. Hoping to post every Monday and Friday!

Open when you want to reminisce…

Serena has spent the day putting up Christmas decorations. She loves Christmas and always has, even as a little girl from which she has fond memories of a house decorated beautifully and the excitement she always used to feel as the big day drew closer.

Elinor had come round to join her and Jason to decorate the Christmas tree, a real one, of course. They’d shared lunch together after that, and she loves the way that Elinor’s and Jason’s relationship has developed since she took Jason in, originally worrying that it would never happen. 

She’d have thought Elinor would have wanted to go home then, but she’d asked if they could watch Elf, her favourite Christmas film and when Jason had said it was one he enjoyed too, Serena couldn’t say no. She couldn’t help but think as the three of them sat on the sofa that there was just one thing missing however:  Bernie. This is their third Christmas together but they are spending it physically apart. She had pushed the thought from her mind, had known Bernie would want her to enjoy this time and not spend it worrying about her.

It’s only now, that Elinor has gone home and Jason has gone up to bed that she’s had time to finish the last few bits of the decorating, adorning the photo frames with silver tinsel. She’s doing okay, until she gets to the one of her and Bernie, taken at the first Holby Christmas party they had attended as a couple, Bernie in a simple navy suit, with that shirt Serena loves on her so much, Serena herself in a deep red floor-length dress. The happiness in both their eyes is strong enough to have been captured in the picture.

And suddenly she misses Bernie more than she has in weeks, and she just needs to be able to remember more happy memories. She goes to her room and extracts the box of envelopes from her closet. She’d brought it home in case she wanted to open any during her week off. She hadn’t wanted to take the time off, but she’s got holiday time to use up and Hansen had insisted.

She finds the envelope she wants and goes back downstairs, of course, pouring herself a glass of wine. She considers turning the main living room light on but then decides she’ll read the letter using the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree, her sometimes dodgy eyesight be damned.  

“Serena, open when you need to reminisce…” and right now it’s exactly what she does need.

My Dearest Serena,

You feel like a little reminisce and this is my way to help you. We’ve had so many wonderful unforgettable moments together and I just want to remind you of some of them, to bring a little smile to your face. I wish I could write them all but if I did I’d be here forever.

I’ve picked a variety of special memories for us, a few of them are from before we even started dating. From the moment we first laid eyes on each other to our last date night before I deployed, I tried to pick memories that we both find special, that we both still talk about frequently.

The first has to be the day we met, you getting mad at your car and telling me I didn’t look like a mechanic. Laughing over my crazy love for cigarettes and your need for a nice glass of Shiraz, we should have known then how well we’d slot together.

I can’t write you a letter about reminiscing and forget to mention a certain ‘plumber by trade’ patient who caused us to have a fun little arm wrestle. I thought in the weeks just before that that I’d messed up with you for good, and well at that point the laughs I got to have with you that day were very much needed.

The next memory has grown to have so much more meaning now than either of us could have ever known when you first said the word: “Equals.” Called into Hansen’s office after lying to you again, even if it was to protect you, I thought I was a goner, and then you told Hansen we were equals. It was one of the first times I’d ever felt truly valued in the civilian world. And how that word has come to evolve, now as girlfriends, partners, lovers, equal in every sense of the word, except for nominal rank of course.

I guess the next memory would have to be the trauma bay, the way you believed in me despite everything. The surgeries we’ve performed together, the people we’ve saved because of it. And now here you are running it for me with Raf! Remember I want my spot back once I’m home.

The next memory comes with more mixed emotions. Our first kiss, there in the theatre of AAU, having just performed lifesaving surgery on our friend and colleague. Even to this day I couldn’t tell you what made me do it, other than that I wanted to. But despite what came for a time after, I wouldn’t change that decision for the world. I kissed you that day and it was like the world righted itself. I know it isn’t what you had planned for your life either, but I think I can speak for you when I say, I guess that kiss really did change our lives.

I’m not going to save your blushes during this little reminisce so I’m afraid I must bring up the girl from Stepney. Talking of Stepney we still never have made it there, I think we should put it in as a date, maybe for four years after the conversation happened?

What can I go on to from there to say other than  an Italian with an extensive wine list? Sitting in that restaurant with you for the first time never could I imagine what was going to unfold the next day or over the coming months. Me running off to Ukraine because I didn’t know how to face my own feelings. At times we were both idiots, but it turned out for the best in the end, and we’ve had many a pleasant date night there since, though not enough for you to have made it through that extensive wine list yet.

You have to know what the next memory is, your delightful nephew playing cupid, and where would we be without him? Neither of us were brave enough to say what we needed to do without him. And I will be forever grateful that he locked us in that office on the day we now call our anniversary. Even just thinking about that kiss, the way it felt to be back in your arms after so long makes me feel tingly all over. It might not have been the most delicate kiss or the average way to get together, but it is so perfectly us!

For one of our first proper dates, we decided to go ice skating seeing as it was December and the open-air ice rink had been erected for Christmas. I very ungracefully smashed into the back of you almost landing us both up in hospital. Instead, I brought you hot chocolate to apologise and vowed I’d never step foot on ice again.

Then it was our holiday together to Italy. I’ll never forget the way your eyes lit up when you first laid eyes on Venice, or that special kiss we shared in the gondola. The special time we had to just be us and learn all about each other. And the sex was pretty incredible too!

It wasn’t long after that you gave me the keys to your house, told me that you didn’t want to have to be without me most nights with the knowledge that I was in my tiny little flat when your house was more than big enough. The idea terrified me as much as it excited me. But for the first time, I managed to voice my worries to you instead of running, I’d gotten good at running by then. I’ll never forget how proud you were as you looked at me as I voiced my concerns to you. I guess that’s when things really changed for us, isn’t it? I learned I didn’t need to run, that you didn’t expect or need me to be perfect, you just needed me to be myself. Two weeks later I did my back in moving boxes, though I guess it was worth it for the amazing massage I got.

It wasn’t until we’d been together a year that Elinor finally agreed to meet me properly. I was so nervous, but you kissed me and reminded me that you loved me and that I didn’t need to be anything I wasn’t. That the fact you loved me should be good enough for Elinor. It was awkward but we made it through, and I hope over time my relationship with Elinor will keep improving, and maybe one day Charlotte will be willing to meet you too.

Then there was that day when we went to the beach together. We had a fabulous day, we played in the arcades, ate fish and chips and far too much ice cream. I even managed to convince you to have a paddle in the sea. Then you told me you couldn’t stand getting sand on your feet once they were wet, so I told you I’d piggyback you over to the bench. You didn’t believe I could manage it, as if you’d forgotten I was in the army for over twenty-five years. I managed it and we fell about on the bench laughing as if we were teenagers and not two middle-aged women.

And then a few months later my call to go back to the army came, and that intense fear to shut people out welled up inside me again, but then we talked it through and for the first time in my life I was with someone who understood that being part of a relationship meant being able to let the other person have what they need and you told me you’d support me if I needed my closure.

You treated me to a final date, a week before I deployed, and you wanted to make sure we could both thoroughly enjoy ourselves. A meal at that posh restaurant which you knew I’d both love and hate at the same time. It’s a good thing I’ve been in the officer’s mess enough times to know how to behave! I’m sure you just used it as an excuse to get me drunk though, and it worked! Though I can’t say I’m complaining, and it’s a good thing neither of us had work the next day, as even if we hadn’t had hangovers, neither of us could exactly walk properly! You really do know how to show a girl a good time!

And then just like that we knew it was time for me to get ready to leave and that’s what led to this letter, and I will never be able to put into enough words just how thankful I am that you’ve let me do this. I’m not sure how far into my deployment I am but what I do know is I can’t wait to make more memories with you.

I’m going to sign this letter off without saying anything else more except that I love you and miss you and that I really can’t wait to make more memories with you.

All My Love, Bernie,

Your Big Macho Army Medic x

[justagirlwhowasbored]

How about a prompt where the reader is extremely witty to the point where even Alastor becomes a flustered mess? Also love your work make me smile like an idiot while reading 🥰

Thanks so much for the compliment! I love this idea, now I am an idiot who has a small vocabulary so I apologize if I wasn’t the best with witty, now without further ado. Here is the fic and sorry if it’s late I don’t check submissions for awhile.

Tw: light swearing and mention of cigarette.

They/them pronouns.

I don’t proof read so sorry if I used any she/her pronouns.

Alastor x witty reader

“Darling if you want to find a man then you should act like a decent human .” Alastor pointed out, after he had enough of your constant witty remarks. And seeing you complain about being single. “And you if you want to find happiness then you should act like food, people love food.” You replied tired and knowing that it wasn’t your best remark.

“That was not your best one, are you getting sick of being rude?” He questioned “Nope just hoping you’ll realize that the only reason I’m talking to you is because I’m bored.”

“Hmm.” He muttered with a large frown.

Ever since you came to the hotel you two had always had banter with you being incredibly witty and sarcastic. Which in no way made alastor liked, though something drew him to you.

The fact that you could be like this to anyone made him fascinated. You have done this to people you have no chance of fighting.

“Well if you wish to be treated like a human you should get more of a brain.”

He once again stated trying to ‘help’ you in life. “Al one, this is hell try and remember that strawberry man. Two if we put your brain in a bird it would fly backwards, so with that what’s your point?” The more you made remarks like this the more intriguing you were to Alastor. Truthfully he noticed you did this epically to him, not even to Charlie or Vaggie were you so ‘rude’

He even talked about this to Husker, when you first noticed this you simply responded with, “ If you’re talking behind my back you’re in a good position to Kiss my ass shit head.”

He was, embarrassed, no shocked, maybe, no you made him flustered. That’s when it clicked he wasn’t intrigued with you he had a crush on you. Yup you just sparked the interest of the radio demon.”

From then on he wanted to try and get to know more about this feeling. So what did he do, he made the worst choice and went to Angel Dust.

“They wants to fuck ya Al.” Angel said said smoking a cigarette, “Wh-what!! Me!?!” Al said with a bright red face and eyes that look like he had just been told he’s going to heaven.

“Oh ya their tryna flirt with ya so you stick yer meat in them.”

Al kinda knew that you don’t want that you just wanted a… relationship? With him!?

So he confronted you, didn’t go well.

Honestly I’m tired so here it is, and if you would like me to continue this then please tell me or if I have to motivation I’ll finish it. I like this fic and also ended it because I don’t know if you wanted platonic or romantic. I thought romantic but I didn’t want to assume things. Anyways thanks for the request I really need some so please give me some!

[writtenjewels]

Monstrous

Jason scrambled through the woods on the hunt for prey. Tonight he managed to get far into the woods before he transformed, so there were plenty of rabbits and deer to get his attention. Even though he'd eaten not too long ago, Jason's stomach growled with the need for food. His nose caught the scent of food nearby and he pointed himself in that direction.

There was something strange about this scent. It reminded Jason of ham. Why would ham be in the forest? But hunger and animal instinct overrode him, pushing him on. He didn't even see the trap until it had already snapped closed over one of his legs.

Fuck! He let out a yelp of pain. Jason pawed at the trap trying desperately to find the catch that would release him. He couldn't let hunters find him! And he sure as hell wasn't going to sit here stuck until morning when he changed back. At least this wasn't the kind of foot-hold trap with sharp edges. Jason tried to remember how one opened these things. It was one of his front legs that got stuck so he tried swiveling around to get his back legs to press down on the levers.

Then his nose caught a new scent in the air. It distracted Jason enough that he stopped struggling with the trap. He took another sniff but still couldn't figure out the scent. He caught some familiar scents: cigarette smoke, incense, but those were overlapping something else. Trying to get at the true scent was starting to make Jason's nose itch.

A figure appeared through the trees and Jason's fur instinctively stood on end. No wonder it didn't smell right: it was a goddamn vampire. Nevermind it was wearing normal human clothes-- probably stole it off one of its victims. Its horns and protruding fangs were all Jason need to know. Jason let out a low growl that alerted the vampire to his presence. The creature looked confused at first but then picked something up off the ground.

It was a fucking ham! Jason thought angrily. It was dripping red with blood, too, which was probably what attracted the vampire.

“I wonder if this was meant for me or you, my friend?” the vampire mused. It spoke with an accent, not that it mattered where this fucking thing came from. Jason growled louder. “How inconsiderate of me. Please, let me help you out of that.” The vampire drew closer and this time Jason showed his teeth.

The vampire hesitated. Then held both hands palm up and showed them to Jason. As if vampires needed weapons to be dangerous! Still, this thing did have opposable thumbs. Jason hid his teeth again and relaxed his body.

“There, you see? There is no reason for us to be enemies.” Jason would argue that but he really wanted to get out of this trap. The vampire pressed down on the levers and Jason stepped away. He gave his leg a few good licks to make sure it was none the worse for wear.

Guess I should thank him. Jason gave a bark and a single wag of his tail. This made the vampire smile, which... made him look pretty nice. He was pretty good-looking, actually. Except he's a nasty-ass vampire! I don't care what he says: we're fucking enemies!

“Did you want the ham?” the vampire offered. Jason gave another tail wag. He didn't go for dead meat in this form, but it'd be a shame to let the ham go to waste. “My name is Salim,” the vampire added as it set down the meat. “Would you like to hunt together tomorrow night? The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all.”

Jason's fur bristled at the idea of teaming up with a vampire. Then again, it wouldn't hurt having someone else along. The vampire could watch out for traps and Jason could stalk the prey.

He looked the vampire-- Salim-- in the eye and wagged his tail in agreement.

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Gojo Satoru general headcanons

Let's get one thing clear: this man is absolutely chaotic. He is always full of energy. His energy levels never reach below 50%. He is loud and proud, always running, and never takes a minute to relax.

Do not give him Monster. Shoko did that once and it took her forever to get him off the ceiling. Also, avoid caffeine. Shoko replaces his normal coffee with decaf and he still hasn't noticed the difference. Keep it that way.

He was the class clown when he was younger. He wasn't exactly a trouble maker, but he may as well be. I cannot word that sentence and I am sorry. Next.

All of his teachers assumed he never listened in class, so they always called in him when they thought he wasn't paying attention. It still shocked them every time he rattled off the correct answer.

Not only did he answer the question correctly, but he could also explain his reasoning behind the answer, and if it was multiple choice, explain why the other answers were wrong. 

This tall man child would march up to the board and absolutely fill it to the brim with work, turn around, drop the chalk-like a mic drop and walk back to his desk with the smuggest look on his face.

That doesn't mean he did the work tho

Idk how schools in japan work but we all know schools in America only care about the amount of work you do and not what you actually know so we'll use that for the sake of the headcanon: he had straight D's bc he never turned in his work

Despite not doing the work snd goofing off, teachers actually really liked him

A lot of people liked him and he was super popular, but he still felt alone

Fake friends, you know how that works, he didn't meet any real friends until he became a shaman

Clean freak. This dude actually makes his bed. He scrubs his bathroom twice a week. His desk can get cluttered but he straightens up once a week. He's not exactly a germaphobe because

He cannot respect your personal space and that's actually canon but let me take it a step further 

He's a slapper. Especially when he laughs. It doesn't hurt, it's playful dw. He hugs you from behind especially when he's cold. He picks you up and carries you around. He will grab your wrist, arm, or hand and lead you around even if you're following him. He lays his legs across you or lays across your lap. Puts his head on your shoulder. Platonic cuddling between friends is mandatory. He's just so hands-on it's ridiculous.

Unless you explicitly tell him you're uncomfortable he won't stop

Don't worry, if you aren't in that type of relationship, your no-no square is safe. Except, if you seem chill, he will slap your ass regardless of friendship status. His ass is also slappable. You can't tell me Geto and Gojo didn't run around slapping each other asses, okay

He was weird and scrawny as a child. He didn't start beefing out until he started training to be a shaman and he's still kinda smaller than most beefy boys

He can pick you up and throw you around easily. He carried around a 170 pound Yuji like a sack of potatoes and can easily carry around three times that weight

It's amazing he's so tiny because you remember 2014 Shane Dawson making all of those wack ass desserts that was just s pile of chaos wrapped in chocolate?

He can eat every last bite of one of those monstrosities without getting a stomach ache, gaining weight, or dying basically

He knows bc Yuji dared him to do it

He has really cold hands and feet

He sounds old. Let me elaborate. He's constantly cracking his joints. They also creak when he moves. He complains about body pains like he's 80 y/o

He also shares wisdom with the kids as if he's actually 80 y/o

It's irrelevant advice that doesn't make sense but is also useful. Megumi can't count the number of times he's asked Gojo for feedback on his technique but had been told to remember to chew 40 times or never go to bed angry

Starts off sentences with "now son" and "when I was your age"

He uses his blindfold as a headband when he wants his hair out of his face. He also uses headbands as... Headbands... When he wants to wear sunglasses but get his hair out of his face

He owns so many pairs of sunglasses but he always wears the same pair

He's only bought a handful of them himself, most of them are gifts

No one knows what to get him for Christmas or his birthday bc he has everything, so they resort to sunglasses

His favorite pair is a pair that Shoko and Geto bought him as a gag. He thought they were dead serious, though, so he wore them around for a month

They were heart-shaped, rose-tinted glasses

Can you believe this man doesn't use any gel or anything to keep his hair spiky with the blindfold on? It just naturally defies gravity when the blindfold is on

Tell this man he's pretty because he already knows. He's narcissistic but not the cringy kind

Photogenic as hell. Takes great pictures from any angle. 

He gives everyone a different story as to why he covers his eyes. Sometimes he says it's because his eyes are too pretty and are a distraction. Sometimes he says it's because the sunglasses/bandages/blindfold look cooler than his eyes. Sometimes he says it's to protect the six eyes from seeing things he doesn't want to see. The world may never know

He's tried covering his whole face before, but he thinks he's too pretty for that. He at least wants one of his many amazing features to be shown at all times.

So about his driver's license;

He knows how to drive. He can be a good driver. When he wants to be. He just doesn't have a driver's license.

Now he TELLS people he just never got around to getting one, however, there's a rumor he lost it due to too many parking tickets

It's amazing the only tickets he's ever gotten have been from that and once he got caught without a seatbelt; he would have gotten out of that one if he hadn't been flirting with the police officer so bad

This doesn't stop Gojo from driving places though

He steals Ijichi's car a LOT and Ijichi DOESN'T KNOW HOW like??? The windows are never broken and it doesn't look hotwired-

Gojo has a key

You're not even supposed to be able to duplicate car keys but Gojo did 

Also; none of the first-year trio knows he doesn't have a driver's license, though that much should be painfully obvious

He whips around corners, speeds up at yellow lights, goes "watch this" and does a donut, it's just a mess

The poor students have to sit in the backseat too. Just imagine Megumi with all three seatbelts around him like that one meme.

He thrives off of Nobara and Yuji screaming from the backseat, and he can see Megumi being smooshed because he thought the middle seat was the safest through the rearview mirror

Which he doesn't even need because of the six eyes

Despite being such a reckless driver, he knows when danger will happen, so he's never once gotten in a wreck

He blasts the radio, which makes up for the driving.

Has a habit of getting in a car and ending up in the McDonalds drive-thru

Steals other people's fries and keeps the fullest one for himself.

He was rebellious as a kid and teenager, but hey, at least his juvie record is sealed 

He's been detained and in the back of a cop car many times, but the reason was never really bad enough for him to be arrested. Mostly he's just being mouthy. And the time he got caught spray painting on the side of a building. And that one time he and Getou hopped the fence to get into the local pool. And that other time-

It got worse after Getou wasn't around to get him out of trouble. Suddenly, breaking the rules wasn't fun anymore and he mellowed out. 

Tried alcohol and cigarettes before he was legal. Decided neither was his thing, however, he did start drinking occasionally when he was legal.

He's a fucking chaotic drunk. Oh my god he's absolutely feral

Most bars in the vicinity know him by name and they sigh whenever he walks in

Shoko is his emergency contact. She hates it

Shoko has to drag drunk Gojo home at least twice a month and is not happy about it

Once she left him in an alley. He made it home okay so she guesses it's fine

Once he got so drunk he spilled beer on his sock. The thought the fastest way to dry them was by sticking them in the microwave. Forgot about it until someone asked, "Who the fuck is cooking socks???"

I feel it important he was in the break room of the local grocery store and no one knows how he got there

As he was escorted out he stole a grocery cart and rode away in it while singing Don't Threaten Me (With A Good Time) by Panic! At The Disco

He has no alcohol tolerance at all what so ever

He will literally just stare at you and giggle

It's funny he's really flirty but also doesn't seal the deal. Literally, every woman in that bar is willing to get in his bed but he declines every offer. No one knows why

Its because he respects women

He helps his students break the rules as long as they're within reason. Once night Yuji was really hungry and after having a temper tantrum he couldn't order Uber eats bc the school is supposed to be secret Gojo helped sneak him out to get food. Who needs curfew anyway.

The shirts in his closet range from like twenty bucks to the iconic rich bitch shirt the kids ruined in that one chapter we all know the one 

He still wears that by the way, he calls it "art" 

When he was younger, Megumi drew a picture of Gojo being eaten by his shadow dogs. Gojo found it and now it's framed in his room.

He keeps up with current trends and memes like no one's business. This is how he bonds with his kids.

Don't call him old, but also, he'll tell you to respect your elders it's a mess

He has a lot of games on his phone. You can usually find him holding his phone sideways playing some RPG game he probably spent too much money on 

He did hop on the Pokemon Go hype train but after becoming overpowered he got bored

This happens to a lot of games. He pays way too much money, gets to be the strongest in the server, and gets bored

He likes games where you can kill other people's troops and likes to watch as they lose all their power

I canon him as being borderline sadistic

This is why he's Sakata Gintoki reincarnated

White hair, sweet tooth, black leather clothes, dad vibes, never takes anything seriously bc when he does he's scary as fuck, the works.

He is Sakata Gintoki

He liked Gintama growing up. He watched a lot of iconic shows as they aired. He considers himself an og

He's hella bilingual

Because he's the strongest he goes overseas for missions a lot. Because of this he speaks a lot of languages and knows a lot about international cuisine 

He takes pictures of himself eating disgusting foods like snails. He never likes them but he loves the idea of Nobara gagging back in japan

Has paperwork sitting untouched on his desk from three months ago that he will not touch for at least another three months

Does the crossword puzzles in the newspaper every week

Uses humor as a coping mechanism and it honestly just became a personality

Constantly popping his joints. I'm sorry if you find this gross I too find it gross.

Probably brought home every stray animal he ever met ever until he was at least like 22 y/o

Tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn

[wolveria]

Inside Your Wires - Ch 6

Pairing: Human!Connor x Android!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ only): Eventual smut, slow burn, fantasy bigotry, violence, brief noncon elements, angst with a happy ending

Chapter summary: Connor gets his new assignment. He's not thrilled.

AO3

Story moodboard by @uh-kitty-got-wet​

Chapter 5 art by @semains​ (18+ only)

November 6th, 2038

Saturday 09:56AM

There was a time when Connor didn’t have to come in on Saturdays. He remembered the days when mandatory overtime was few and far between.

Not anymore. 2038 seemed to be the year shit just kept happening, and now that he thought about it, quite a few of it seemed to be because of androids. Ones gone missing. Disobeying orders. And now, homicidal.

Connor rubbed the bridge of his nose after putting his car into park, regretting how enthusiastically he’d hit the bottle last night. It wasn’t too bad this time, just an annoying throbbing behind his eyes, but it made it more difficult to see and he’d had to squint through his windshield.

Whatever. The reason for his shame-drinking was no longer relevant. Connor just had to survive until lunchtime, and if he were lucky, Hank would let him go early. He tried not to itch at the butterfly bandages on his cheek, applied himself after he’d woken up in a haze with blood on his pillow having completely forgotten the injury existed.

Connor kept his head down as he walked through the lobby of the station and through the security checkpoint to the bullpen proper. He tried not to be completely antisocial, however, and sent weak smiles at the coworkers who bothered to notice he was there.

Helen, Alexander, and Rupert all acknowledged him with various degrees of warmth, some colder than others, and all pretty much deserved. Ralph gave Connor a nervous smile from his chair, though it quickly faded as his eyes flickered to something across the room.

Frowning, he followed Ralph’s eye line across the bullpen and scowled when he spotted Colin leaning casually against Connor’s desk, talking to… someone. He couldn’t see who, Colin’s figure blocking them from view.

Against his better judgement, Connor drew closer, pressure building at the back of his neck, an uneasy feeling of dread that increased with each step.

“Con’s just gonna love this. But seriously, if he bitches about it too much, or gives you a hard time, you can always partner up with me. I won’t mind one bit, promise.”

Connor would have rolled his eyes at his brother’s typical cocksure demeanor, but instead, he went stock still at the familiar voice that answered.

“While the offer is appreciated, Lieutenant, my instructions stipulate that I must assist Detective Anderson with his new, specialized caseload. I’m sure you can understand that CyberLife only wishes to cooperate with the DPD and does not want to interfere with police procedure—“

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The YN800 model blinked and turned its head to meet Connor’s eye, its little blue light blinking for a moment before solidifying again.

It was sitting in Connor’s chair.

“It’s good to see you again, Detective,” it answered, chipper as ever as a fake smile graced its features.

Connor looked the prototype over, his nose crinkling at its appearance. The suit must have been brand new, there were no stains or bullet holes, and her—its hair was once again pinned upwards into a perfect knot.

He felt his insides churn at the near slip, at thinking for even a split second that this thing was a person. Shoving down the crude thoughts of the night before, Connor gave the order through gritted teeth.

“Get. Up.”

The prototype did as it was told, for once. It rose out of his chair, not even having the decency to look chagrined as it straightened its jacket of nonexistent wrinkles.

“I’m sorry, Detective, but I tried to call your phone and left you a message. It was not my intention to surprise you—“

“Oh, no, it’s never your intention to do anything, is it?” Connor snarled back. His headache was in full force now, and he swore he could see the bright lights of the station brighten in time with his heartbeat.

“Aw, c’mon!” Colin slapped him on the shoulder. “Be nice to the temp.”

“Temp?” Connor answered, voice pulled as taut as a wire.

“Yeah, you know. The temporary assistant. The new girl. The—“

He shoved Colin’s hand off his shoulder, leveling a glare at both of them. Colin merely shot him a shit-eating grin while the YN800 stood there, hands clasped behind its back at parade rest, polite and perfect as ever.

“Connor!”

All three of them turned toward the voice booming across the room.

“Get in here!”

Connor glared at the android, as if Hank’s shouting were its fault, which was probably the case.

He turned without a word and stalked to the captain’s office, shoulders hunched as his heart raced and his hands shook at his sides. He let the glass door fall shut behind him, but when he didn’t hear the whoosh of it close, he glanced over his shoulder to see the YN800 had followed him inside.

Great.

Connor stood in front of the desk with his arms crossed.

Hank sat down in his chair, pointedly looking at the chairs in front of his desk. Connor remained standing.

The older man glared, answering Connor’s attitude with a look and a heavy sigh.

“Bet you’re wondering what that’s about.” Hank jerked his chin over Connor’s shoulder. The prototype had taken a spot at the back of the office, observing politely with its hands clasped in front of its hips.

“Yeah, I am.” Connor was a little too cranky this morning to try a more diplomatic approach. “What the hell is it doing here?”

“I’ll get to that. First on the docket, I got a shit ton of android-related cases filling up our database every day and I’m at wit’s end.” Hank took a deep breath, bracing himself as he met Connor’s eye. “Which is why I’m assigning all of these cases to you.”

“You’re what?”

Connor stared at him, dumbfounded.

“You think that case last night was a one-off? We’ve got more android-related crimes rolling in, including assaults and homicides just as bad as the Ortiz case, and right now, you’re the one with the most experience.” Hank leaned his elbows on his desk as he leveled a formidable glare his way. “Is that going to be a problem, Connor?”

 “Yeah, it is a problem, Hank! Why the hell do I have to do this? What about Colin? He was with me at the crime scene and was there for the interrogation!” Connor shoved a finger at the glass wall to prove his point.

Hank’s jaw tightened. Connor had seen that behavior enough times to recognize how he was pushing his luck.

“CyberLife asked for you specifically.”

“What?” Connor blinked, dumbfounded once again, racking his brain but coming up empty. “Why?”

“The hell if I know!” Hank barked back, rising to his feet as he pointed a finger at Connor, “and frankly, I don’t give a damn. Colin’s got enough on his plate—“

“—and I don’t?” Connor interrupted, scowling. Hank sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, and Connor almost felt guilty for his outburst.

Almost.

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you implied.” He tried not to sound like a hurt child, but, well, that’s exactly what he sounded like.

“For fuck’s sake, Connor! There are more people that are gonna start dying from this!”

“Yeah, I know, but—“

Hank lifted his hand, palm forward, effectively shutting Connor up.

“You saw what one of those deviants was capable of last night, and that was with three of you and another android trying to get it under control! You think the average person stands a chance against one of these fucks? That a little ol’ grandma can defend herself against the murderous robot gardener coming at her with a pair of shears? What the hell happens when a nanny bot decides to take a human kid for itself? Oh, wait, that’s already happened, and you would know that if you checked the goddamn case files I sent you!”

Connor was silent as Hank deflated. The older man leaned back against his desk as he looked through his glass wall out over the bullpen. His voice was rough but much quieter for the next round.

“We’re totally in the dark, Connor. We don’t know how bad this is gonna get and how many androids we’re dealing with. This has the potential to turn into a fucking nightmare with Detroit as ground zero.” Hank’s gaze drifted over Connor’s shoulder to the elephant, or the machine, in the room. “CyberLife was gracious enough to send us a state-of-the-art prototype until this issue is contained. It’s gonna be your partner until such a time that these androids are no longer a threat, and then you’re free to go back to being a misanthropic son-of-a-bitch as much as you like.”

Connor was thoroughly shamed by the end of Hank’s speech, that old familiar feeling of disappointment making his gut roil with nausea, but his anger hadn’t entirely flagged. He clenched his hands tightly to his thighs, fingers desperate for either his coin or his cigarettes.

Connor hadn’t felt the need for one in months. This was bad.

“Hank,” he tried again, his voice soft and pleading in that way he knew Hank couldn’t ignore. “I’m not saying this just to be a pain in your ass. I understand the stakes, but I genuinely believe I’m not qualified for these types of cases. I’m not a CyberLife technician, or an AI specialist, or a computer engineer. I’ve never even owned an android.”

That last one was technically true but only in the barest sense, and Hank gave him a knowing look. It wasn’t without sympathy, and his own answer was given with more kindness than he probably deserved.

“I know, Connor. I also know you’re the sharpest pair of eyes on the force, not to mention the quickest brain and the best instinct. You see shit other people don’t, even Colin, and you’ve got this creepy knack for taking one look at a person and knowing what makes ‘em tick. I’d say you’re almost like an android yourself, but I know how much that’d piss you off.”

Connor gave him another narrow-eyed scowl, and Hank immediately put up his hands as a sign of surrender even as a smirk played on his lips.

“My point is, I need you on this, son. I know it’s not ideal, hell, it downright sucks, but I know you can do this. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

And there it was. As effective as Connor’s pleading expressions could be, they were nothing in comparison to his need for Hank’s praise. The old geezer knew it, too.

And throwing a “son” into the mix was a goddamn dirty move, but Connor couldn’t even muster up annoyance. He just sighed, gave Hank the smallest hint of a smile, and said, “All right. But only until these cases are solved. Once the deviancy issue is addressed, the prototype is going back to CyberLife and you never give me an android case again.”

“I’ll pay for the postage to ship it back myself,” Hank said, smile wide and pleased as he patted Connor on the shoulder before returning to his desk. “And I want daily reports on the progress you and your new partner are making. Gotta make sure CyberLife’s best is pulling its weight.”

“I can assure you, Captain Anderson, I am worth every penny. And considering it took a small fortune to build me, I—“

“Yeah, yeah,” Hank interrupted the prototype, using that catchphrase that Connor and all of his brothers had picked up years ago. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

The android blinked almost comically before giving a slow nod. It then turned to face Connor, straightening its back at attention, and he rolled his eyes. He was still being handed the shit end of the stick, but he couldn’t deny that the cases were piling up and Hank really did need the extra help.

But why, out of all the androids in the world, did it have to be one like that.

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Connor turned and left Hank’s office, not waiting to see if the android would follow, knowing with a sinking feeling, it would.

Next Chapter

[221bshrlocked]

Okay. Here me out. Leaving Javi a note telling him to meet you at your place around midnight 😏

Bruh, you’re killing me and you know perfectly well I am incapable of not writing something down when I get these kinds of messages. ugh. now i’m hot and bothered. Again. I blame you for this and for not being able to start on the Pedro/Sebastian/Reader fics...but enjoy this.

He was already having a hard time ignoring you during debriefing, ignoring the side glances and the smiles and the way you constantly moved just so he could spare you a look. But then you had the audacity to slip a note in his back pocket as you left the meeting and he all but lost it, ignoring Steve’s teasing remarks and almost cussing him out when he heard him laugh at his blush.

Waiting until everyone left the room, he fished the note from his pocket and unfolded it, smiling like a schoolboy when he read your words and shoving it back in his pocket as he returned to his desk. You were standing next to Steve discussing something about the meeting and Javier narrowed his eyes at you when he saw you lean over and whisper something in Steve’s ears.

As soon as you left, Javier sat down and crossed his legs, lighting a cigarette and waiting until Steve turned his way before warning him.

“Fucking watch it.” It was more of a growl than a hiss really and Steve snorted at his partner before holding up his hands and pointing at his wedding ring.

Javier wasn’t sure how he’d managed to keep his mind from steering towards you all day long but as the sun set and the moon rose in the night sky, he was sure he has never been edged for this fucking long. As the clock struck eleven, he decided to hit up the bar near the building where you stayed, hoping to relax before making his way towards you.

He should have known better. As soon as he walked in, he saw you sitting and chatting up the bartender, swirling a clear drink around before throwing it back and asking him for another. He walked towards you, pulling out the chair and lighting a cigarette before nodding towards the man.

“Whiskey por favor...” It was a forced request and you shook your head when you remembered how much he hated it when you laughed at others’ jokes.

“You know, jealousy isn’t an attractive trait Javi.” You winked at him before paying for the drinks, downing the vodka in one sip before standing up and leaning towards him.

“But you make it look so sexy baby.” You whispered in his ears, letting your hands trail down his chest before grabbing his inner thighs. He groaned against you, dragging a breath from his cigarette as you kissed his cheek before walking away.

Javier watched as you sauntered out of the bar with an extra sway to your hips, turning around before exiting and winking at him.

“Pinche puta madre,” he whispered under his breath before mirroring your actions and chugging down the whiskey, forcing a smile at the bartender and leaving a tip right before leaving. He wasn’t a desperate man, far from it, but he felt that it would be rude to keep you waiting.

Running across the street, he pushed the code to the gate and went up the stairs two at a time, strutting straight to your door while attempting to calm his nerves.

He shook his head when he saw it was cracked open, slamming it behind him and not caring how loud he was being as he made his way to your bedroom.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? The hell were you thinking leaving the door unlocked?” Javier didn’t expect to see you almost naked and he hated how distracted he became whenever he saw the expanse of your skin.

“Left it open for you mi amor.”

“Anyone could have walked in.” He was finding it harder to stay in control of his voice, clenching his jaw when he saw you walking towards him in nothing but a bra and panties.

“You’re not anyone Javi.” You smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and stepping on his shoes to reach his cheek.

“And how did you know I was going to come now bebé?” His voice was much lower now, hands hovering against the skin of your hips to try and hold off just a little while longer.

“You’ve been undressing me with your eyes all fucking day Javi, that’s how I knew you were going to follow me.” Licking his neck, you stopped right at his Adam’s apple and kissed it before sucking on the cartilage until you felt him wrap his arms around you.

“And you’ve been eye-fucking me all day sweet girl.” He didn’t push you away, enjoying the attention you were giving him and finding it uncharacteristically calming. He thought it was hilarious, the first time you told him just how much his neck turned you on. No one has ever said that to him. Previous lovers usually complimented his lips, his tongue, and not surprisingly, his dick. But then you came along and refused to stop talking about the way his fingers were the right size, and he wasn’t sure if that was in reference to the way he fucked you with fingers sometimes or how he loved to keep hold of your throat as you rode him. And he truly enjoyed those days where you were somehow hornier than him because you went on and on about his mustache and his neck and his jaw and his fucking thighs. It drove him mad.

“Guilty as charged Agent. Now, you wanna put those cuffs to good use or should I just call Steve t-”

“Don’t you fucking dare querida.” You giggled when he growled in response, turning you around and throwing you on the bed. You didn’t bother to turn around, looking over your shoulder to watch him as he stripped down to nothing and joined you.

“Oh, what do we have here?” You smiled when you felt his cock hit your ass cheeks, shaking your hips when you felt him pull down your panties and push them against his nostrils.

“Smell so fucking sweet, all the god damn time.” Javier was talking more to himself than you and he narrowed his eyes down at you when he saw the way you were eyeing him.

“Javi please, I need you. Just fuck me already.”

“You sure you don't wanna call Steve cariño?” He was teasing you, unhooking your bra and trailing his eyes down the curves of your back as you took it off and threw it away. He pushed the head of his cock in your cunt and held himself there, waiting for you to beg for him.

“Please Javi, lo siento...I don’t want anyone else baby. I want you to fuck me, please...missed this cock. Missed having you fill me up with your cum...don’t you wanna feel me baby?” You knew what your words did to him, even if he didn’t tell you. That was the thing with Javier, once he heard you begging for him, he’d forego all plans of teasing you. And just as you knew, Javier was bottoming out and throwing his weight on you, hissing in your ears as he slowly bucked his hips against your ass and filled you up.

“Fucking shit sweetheart. You’re always so tight around me. So warm and tight and fucking heavenly.” Javier bit down on your shoulder, sliding his arm beneath you and cupping your breasts to keep some semblance of control. You were panting under him, occasionally gasping his name when you felt him pinch and roll your nipples in between his fingers.

He alternated between deep and slow thrusts to quick and shallow ones, enjoying the way you whined and moaned every time he changed his pace just to deny you of your orgasm. With each pass of his cock, you felt your cunt squeeze tighter around him, the wet, squelching sounds you were making letting him know just how much you wanted him tonight.

“Come on querida, don’t fall behind.” Javier moaned against your ear, snapping his hips again and again until the only sounds in the room where your combined heavy pants and his navel hitting your ass cheeks.

“Just want your hands Javi, I- ah fuck, I’m so close baby you fuck me so good. No one- oh god, no one fucks me like you Javi. Please, I wanna cum. Wanna cum on your cock oh god, oh fuck- right there, right fucking there.”

“Fucking hell baby that’s it. Taking my dick so deep...so well. Cum on me, let me feel this sweet cunt clench around me. Milk me dry mi cariño..fuck, ah fuck- cum on me. Now!” His pace faltered, and he felt your legs shaking beneath him just as he pushed his cock one last time inside you before coming, and you bit his wrist when you felt him coating your walls with streaks of warm cum. He rubbed at your clit furiously, hissing when you violently squeezed around him as you reached your peak. When you tried to reach down and stop him, Javier shook his head against you and bit your back, continuing his assault on your pussy until you were begging him to stop.

When he finally pulled away and rolled to his side, you turned your face towards him and let out a deep sigh of relief. He reached down to his pants and took out another cigarette, lighting it as he sat up against the headboard and motioned for you to come to him. You grabbed the covers and haphazardly threw them over the two of you, nuzzling into his side as he drew random patterns on your shoulders.

“Next time you want me fuck you querida, don’t give me a twelve-hour heads up.” He looked serious but you knew this was as close to him being playful as he could get.

“Well, I just wanted to give you something to look forward to...”

“Yeah well, I barely got anything done today...’ve been fucking hard since I read your note.”

“I mean you can always just fuck me on your desk.” You smiled when he raised an eyebrow at you before blowing out smoke through his nose. Only Agent Javier Peña could make smoking look this sexy.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Showing everyone how much of a good girl you can be.” He finally cracked that infamous toothy smile at you and you swore your heart was close to leaping out of your chest and flying out the window.

“Only for you Javi, only for you.”

[lupiiifics]

Lucky To Love You

Fic #2 Posted on AO3 on October 1, 2021 for Luzeni Friday on Twitter.

A/N: I swear my stories aren't going to be formatted like this. It's just that I formatted it to fit AO3 so I wasn't sure how to split the chapters here. I didn't want to post them separately, so this is how I did it. Hope it's not too jarring. Next story will be posted on October 8, 2021.

Summary: Zenigata and Lupin agree to a date in Lupin's jail cell. Some hijinks occur, but it's mostly just pining and fluff.

Word Count: 6,988

Chapter 1:

"He's coming."

Goemon appeared between Lupin and Jigen's shoulders, the first sign of him being the hilt of Zantetsuken. His hand gripped the shoulder of the seat in front of him, and Lupin looked back just in time to see blue lights flashing in the distance.

" Shit . How do you do that?" He asked, glancing at the samurai. "I thought we'd have a clean getaway tonight, but it looks like Pops has other plans."

"I thought you kept this one secret? How'd he find us?" Jigen asked.

Lupin shrugged. "Dunno. That guy has some sixth sense when it comes to us."

"When it comes to you , you mean," Jigen corrected. He pulled his Magnum from its holster and popped the chamber to count the amount of bullets. "Want me to take care of him?"

"Maybe. How many are there?"

Jigen turned in his seat, peering past Goemon to stare out the back windshield. "It's just him and his lacky. No one else."

Lupin nodded, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "Hold off for now. I'll signal you when I need you to slow 'em down."

Jigen lowered his hand but didn't put away his gun. "What're you plannin'?"

Lupin waved a hand in front of them, steadily accelerating to try and outrun their pursuers. They were fast approaching a large copse of trees, the plush green blur becoming clearer as the seconds passed. "I'm gonna try and lose them."

"You sure?" Jigen angled his head upwards until one of his eyes was visible, his bangs peaking through to frame his face. "I could at least stall them."

"Don't waste your ammunition. Save it for when we really need it."

Jigen shrugged, leaning back to kick his feet up on the dash. He pushed his hat down over his face again and stuffed a cigarette from his pocket into his mouth. "Suit yourself. Just don't complain to me later when he catches you."

"He won't catch me," Lupin said, matter-of-factly. "I'm Lupin the Third!"

"That hasn't stopped him before," Jigen muttered. “That guy can’t resist putting his handcuffs on you, can he?”

Lupin grinned, glancing through the rearview mirror again. “Hey, I can’t help being irresistible. It comes with the charm of being me!”

The blue lights were fast approaching, as was the forest. He slammed on the breaks and pressed the clutch to the floor, shifting down until he felt the car catch enough to turn. He jerked the steering wheel, pressing Jigen up against the passenger side door, and throwing Goemon against the back seat. He came up with a glare on his face, his fierce stare peering at him through the rearview mirror.

“You could have warned us,” Goemon said, gripping Zantetsuken. The debris from their sudden shift fell through the sunroof, covering each of them in fallen branches, leaves, and dirt. Lupin ignored the yells of protest coming from his two partners, pressing down the small dirt road in hopes of losing Zenigata. The blue lights still stubbornly pursued them, however, a permanent fixture in the reflection of his mirrors.

The sound of the sirens mixed with the sound of crunching metal as long grey streaks appeared along the sides of his precious Fiat. He pressed his cheek against his window, watching as the trees scratched his car. “ Fuck . Pops is gonna owe me for this one.”

“Ain’t the first time I’ve heard you say that,” Jigen drew a pull from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nose. “You gonna actually hold him to it, this time?”

Lupin leaned forward, shifting as he accelerated deeper into the forest. It was a bumpy ride, throwing each of them around the car as the forest grew more narrow.

“Hush you,” Lupin said. He leaned over, not taking his eyes off the path ahead of him. “Gimme a taste of that, would ya?”

“Thought you hated Marlboros?”

Lupin craned his head, shrugging. “Can’t really pull one of mine out right now, can I? I’m driving.”

Jigen huffed. “Fine. Here.”

He held the cigarette out and allowed Lupin to suck on the end of it. As soon as he pulled away, he crushed the cigarette between his fingers, shoving it into the car’s ashtray and pulling another from the pocket of his jacket.

Lupin laughed the smoke forward to filter against the windshield. It rose overhead and escaped through the sunroof. “Grumpy much, Jiji?”

Jigen ignored him, lighting his brand new cigarette. Goemon leaned forward between them again, his face grim and his hair dotted with leaves and spots of dirt.

“The car will not last,” he said, indicating their slowing speed with the hilt of his sword. “Zenigata will catch up.”

Lupin looked between the samurai and the speedometer. “What? No! She can’t give up on us now!”

Jigen held up his Magnum again, eyes glinting with obvious mirth. “You want me to slow them down now?”

The car began to sputter, dying like a star at the end of its lifecycle. “I’m not sure there’s much point. Looks like we’re running from here. Goemon, you got the stuff?”

Goemon held up a duffle bag full of loot, the pockets glimmering with various pieces of gold, silver, and whatever else they could find that they deemed worth enough to take. He hefted it against the top of one of his shoulders, hopping through the sunroof right as the car came to a stop at the end of a clearing. He drew Zantetsuken in one fluid motion, sending the surrounding trees crashing to block Zenigata’s pursuit. They could hear the inspector yelling on the other side, obviously frustrated to be stopped in his goal of catching them.

“LUPIN! Move these trees, dammit!”

“Sorry, Pops!” Lupin shouted over the chaos. “But I’ve gotta run.”

“Oh no you don’t!”

Zenigata exited his police car and began climbing the fallen trees. When Jigen and Goemon saw this, they began to back away.

“Whelp, I’m outta here. You comin’, Goemon?”

The samurai nodded. “I’m right behind you, Jigen.”

Lupin turned to follow them, but found his arm restrained by a familiar set of handcuffs. He looked back, and found Zenigata half slumped over the trees, grinning at him with a thick rope clutched between his fingers. “I’ve got you now, Lupin!”

Lupin turned toward his friends, watching as they continued to run away from him. “Wait, no. Guys, help me !”

Jigen gave him a sympathetic look while Goemon remained stoic in their escape.

“Sorry, boss,” Jigen said, “but we gotta keep the goods safe, right?”

“No! You’ve got to keep me safe, you bastards!”

Jigen ignored him. “We’ll be sure to give you your share when you escape, okay boss? See ya later!”

“What?! No. Jigen , get your ass back here.”

They disappeared out of the clearing, leaving Lupin alone with Zenigata and Yata. Lupin slowly turned to find Zenigata standing behind his shoulder, tugging his hand up to grin at the cuffs.

“Thought you could escape from me, did you?” He asked. He untied the rope and grabbed Lupin’s other hand to trap behind his back. “Now you’re coming back with us to the station.”

“Aw, but Pops. Tonight was supposed to be a quiet night. I didn’t even send out a calling card.”

“I don’t care!” Zenigata beamed, his face absolutely alight with pride. “Wherever you go, I follow, remember?"

Lupin hunched his shoulders and blew out a defeated sigh. "Normally I'd call that romantic, but with you I'm not so sure."

"Call it whatever you want. You're not getting away this time, Lupin ," Zenigata said. He turned toward the pile of trees and pulled Lupin along with him. "Yata! Come help me load our prisoner."

"Yes, sir!" Yata poked his head up from where he had climbed the trees, reaching an arm down to do just as Zenigata had asked. "Boost him up. I’ll pull.”

#

Zenigata fumbled with his cellphone, struggling to dial the number of his police chief. Yata did his best to help him, but there wasn't much he could do for a man as stubborn as the Inspector. Lupin watched helplessly from the back seat, listening as the two bickered.

"Just let me dial the number—"

"No, I already told you I got it. Here, look. See? It's ringing!"

Zenigata held the phone gleefully to his ear, a large grin spreading across his face. Yata's expression was a little less enthusiastic, exhausted against his superior's relentless tenacity.

Zenigata didn't notice this. His voice was bright as he said, "hello? Chief? Yeah, we got 'em! We caught Lupin. We're transporting now."

Lupin had already slipped his cuffs, but his escape was thwarted by this car's lack of back-door handles. This wasn't Zenigata's typical police car. It didn't have a sunroof either.

He wrapped his arms around the headrests of the seats in front of him, leaning to poke his head between the two police officers. Yata jumped when he noticed the thief, while Zenigata ignored him and finished his report.

"We'll be there in an hour. Have his cell prepped and ready for me, alright? Yes, sir. I'll give you the full run-down once I have Lupin locked up tight."

"Sir—" Yata sputtered, staring wide-eyed at Lupin. He held his hand to his holstered handgun, ready to use it if Lupin decided to try anything hasty. Zenigata remained calm as he felt Lupin snake his hand around his left shoulder. He simply said his goodbyes, hung up the phone, and turned to look at their prisoner.

“You slipped your cuffs,” he said, voice flat.

Lupin held up the cuffs in question, hanging them off the top of his forefinger. He grinned. “You know me, Pops. I’ve never been one to be restrained.”

“I beg to differ,” Zenigata said. “Seeing as I’ve got you where I want you, and we’re heading back to the station now.”

Lupin shrugged and fell back against his seat. "I'll find a way out of this. I always do. You got a smoke?"

Zenigata grumbled, much of his initial enthusiasm gone from his body language. He rummaged through his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter, pulling one out, lighting it, and handing it back to Lupin. Yata stared at him as the cigarette left his lips, his entire face twisted in confusion.

"You're actually giving him one?"

Zenigata shrugged. "They haven't been tampered with, so why not? Not like he'll get many opportunities in prison anyway."

Yata slumped his shoulders. "You're too kind, Inspector. He's a thief!"

"Hey, just ‘cause he’s a thief, doesn’t mean I can’t treat him with respect.” Zenigata said.

Yata sighed, and Lupin laughed at the reserved look on the young police officer’s face. This earned him a glare worthy of Goemon, and Lupin’s laughter only got louder.

“Zenigata, with all due respect, you’re hopeless…”

#

His cell was at the back of the police station, past the rows of office desks, people, and officers. The room was dark and windowless, with lights that were controlled by whoever was guarding him. The cell door was heavy and automated, with no obvious control panel, nor way Lupin could conceivably hack it. He realized then that this cell had been specifically created to contain him, at least temporarily, until they could figure out a way to keep him from escaping. It was kind of impressive actually, until he realized the reality of what that would mean.

“You’ve been doing your research,” Lupin said, looking around. There was a bed suspended by wire in the corner of the room, and a mirror and toilet behind a wall for him to use.

“Told you you weren’t going anywhere,” Zenigata said. He pressed his hand against the back of Lupin’s shoulder, pushing him forward into the cell. “Welcome to your new home, Lupin~”

Lupin was beginning to panic, though he hid it under a veneer of careful planning. He straightened the orange jumpsuit they’d forced him into. Anything to make him look, and feel, composed. “ Temporary home, you mean. You know I’ll bust outta here eventually.”

Zenigata smiled at him and started to turn to leave the cell. “Whatever you say, Lupin.”

Lupin stumbled forward, unaware of the movement until it was actually happening. He caught Zenigata’s wrist in a plea to get him to stop. “Wait.”

“What?” Zenigata raised a dark eyebrow at him, turning to stare at their intertwined arms. “Do you need something?”

“Let’s make a deal.”

“A deal?” Zenigata shook his head, pulling away. “I don’t make deals with criminals, Lupin. You know that.”

Lupin was desperate. “A bet then. If I can make it through a week, you have to go on a date with me.”

Zenigata’s face flushed red and he took a step backwards. “A date ? Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably,” Lupin said, “but anyway. What do you say? Will you accept?”

Zenigata pressed his back against the cell door, face still flushed with what Lupin thought was embarrassment. “Don’t you have Fujiko? Or Jigen? Why would you want me ?”

“Why wouldn’t I want you?” Lupin asked, genuinely surprised. “You’re my rival , Zenigata. No cop in the world has ever managed to capture me for more than a night, and you’ve done it more than I can count. You’re my equal .”

“What about the others?” Zenigata asked. “Won’t they be angry?”

Lupin waved a hand. “Nah, they won’t care.”

Zenigata spluttered. “But isn’t that… cheating?”

“ Zenigata …” Lupin stared at him, a smile slowly growing to meet his eyes. “People can be polyamorous.”

“R...Right.”

Lupin edged toward the inspector eagerly. “So? What do you say?”

Zenigata rubbed his face. He was silent for several moments, seemingly going over the pros and cons in his head.

“This isn’t some plan to escape, is it?”

Lupin shrugged. “That depends. Where will the date take place?”

Zenigata scanned the room with his eyes, a plan slowly forming in his mind. “Here.”

“Really? How?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Zenigata said, “but we’re sure as Hell not doing it anywhere else.”

Lupin drooped his shoulders, disappointed that his idea hadn’t quite worked how he expected. “Aw, you’re no fun.”

“Just be glad I’m gonna let you do this at all.”

“So is that a yes?”

Zenigata looked like he was about to sign his soul away. He exhaled and rolled his shoulders. “ Yes , but only if you make it a week. Otherwise, the entire thing is off.”

Lupin shouted his excitement, throwing his arms around the inspector’s shoulders. “I’m looking forward to it!”

Zenigata allowed Lupin to nuzzle into his neck for a moment, enjoying the contact as much as he could allow. A moment later, he pried the thief off of him, and missed the warmth of his arms almost immediately. “Seven days,” he said. He held up seven fingers. “One week from today, or the date’s off.”

Lupin saluted him loyally, stepping back with a grin bright on his face. “Yes, sir! One week.”

Zenigata gave Lupin a small smile, stepping to turn back to the door. He paused for a width of a second, expecting something else, but the only sound he heard was the squeak of Lupin’s bed as the prisoner climbed into it. He wasn’t sure why he was disappointed as he left the jail cell. There shouldn’t have been anything else he was expecting.

#

As soon as the door closed, and Lupin was sure Zenigata was gone, he tugged at the edge of his ear until a small earpiece popped out into his hand. He played with the contraption for several seconds, bending and contracting it until he had it how he liked it. Then he hooked it back to the plastic by his ear, and grinned when he heard the other end pick up.

Jigen sounded tired as he answered, and Lupin wondered if he had woken him. “Boss?”

“Hey, Jiji . Listen. I need a favor.”

Chapter 2:

Report #1, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day one of Lupin’s imprisonment was an overall success. Lupin himself was cooperative. He answered my questions, followed orders, and did his best to seem like a perfect prisoner. Most of his first day was spent lounging on the bed. When I asked if he needed anything, he requested extra blankets. This seemed to be for comfort, as he used them as pillows and laid one over the sheets on the mattress. Otherwise, there is nothing else to report. He asked me for details on the date, and I hesitated to answer. I’m still not sure what I’m feeling over our bet, but my heart keeps skipping beats. Maybe I should go see a doctor?”

Report #2, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day two came with a string of complications, none of which seemed to affect Lupin or his seemingly unwavering determination to make it through this week. I hadn’t expected him to be so positive throughout this experience. So far he’s been nothing but smiles when in the past, it was always grandeur and posturing. I feel like he’s hiding something from me, though I can’t figure out what. I will get to the bottom of it, however. He can’t hide from me! I know all his secrets. Also… he called me ‘handsome.’ I’m not sure if that’s information I should share in my reports, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Report #3, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I think his facade is starting to crack. When I approached his cell at the beginning of my shift, I found him shouting orders to the men guarding his door. Of course, this stopped once I announced myself. The men wouldn’t answer me when I asked what he had been shouting about. Instead, they told me it was nothing and, even when ordered, ignored me when I asked them to tell me. I entered Lupin’s cell angry, which was a mistake, because he caught me off guard with a hug from behind. I was so startled that I threw him off. Of course, he laughed about it. Sometimes I forget how damn good of a man Lupin can be. It takes a lot to piss him off. Apparently throwing him against a wall isn’t enough to break him down.”

Report #4, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day 4 and I think Yata has finally given up on me. He refuses to work with me on Lupin’s imprisonment, instead choosing to pursue the other three. So far, he hasn’t made much leeway. I warned him that this would be the case. Lupin might have screwed up by allowing himself to get caught, but Jigen and Goemon are a whole other monster when put together. And who even knows what’s going on with Fujiko? Lupin doesn’t seem to know where she is, but he’s not concerned, so neither am I. I instructed Yata to keep looking, if only to keep him from judging me. He seems disappointed in my deal with Lupin. Personally, I don’t see the issue with it if it keeps him in jail. We’ll have to see how it goes. That is, if Lupin makes it through all 7 days and Yata stops sighing whenever he looks at me.

Lupin was just as sugar-coated as usual today. He kept asking me opinions on things we could do during our date. I’m not sure if that was his way of flirting with me or if he was simply trying to make small talk. He does seem fairly sincere in his affections, but Lupin is like that with a lot of people. I don’t know if I can trust him. The men cheered when I exited the cell and I found several post-it notes with words of encouragement at my desk. I’m not certain I like what they’re all getting at.”

Report #5, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“We ran into our first actual issue with Lupin today. He seemed oddly defeated when I visited him in his cell, though he put up a facade almost as soon as he noticed me. Otherwise, he was energetic. I don’t know if being in the cell is starting to take its toll, or if he’s accepted his future imprisonment. He wasn’t lying when he said I’d done my research. The cell itself is tailor made to keep him contained, plus it’s at the back of the police station. If he were to escape, he’d have to go through me and every officer on duty in the office. He might be a master thief who had escaped from impossible odds time and time again, but everyone has their limit. He is just one man, and as far as Yata has told me, there’s no sign of Jigen or Goemon on their way to save him. As far as I can tell, they’ve abandoned him. Maybe that’s why he’s so listless? He’s probably missing his partners. I’ll try my best to make him happy during his time here, if only to wipe that hurt puppy look off his stupid monkey face.”

Report #6, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I can tell Lupin is trying to come up with a way of escaping after our date in two days. He was restless when I found him this morning. I don’t think he’s really slept since I caught him, and while that shouldn’t concern me, it does. I tried asking him about how he was feeling, and he just dodged the question. I wonder if this is what he’s like with all of his partners. Is he open with Jigen, Fujiko, and Goemon? Or does he thrive on hiding behind a mask? He seems to be trying to convince me he’s fine, but I can see he’s not. I don’t think he likes being alone. He thrives off of other people, but I can hardly let him around other prisoners. It’s not that he’s particularly dangerous. He’s rarely even violent. He’s just flighty. If I let him anywhere but the bath house and his cell, he’ll get too many ideas and be out of my hands before I even know it. Maybe that’s not a risk right now with our date at the end of the week, but it becomes a risk as soon as that date is over. I’m not sure if this entire thing is just some elaborate scheme to take advantage of me, but he does seem to actually like me. I keep asking what it is he sees in me, an old police inspector, and he keeps saying the same thing. We’re destined rivals, which means we’re destined to be together.”

Report #7, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“The date is tomorrow night, which seems to have revived Lupin’s spirits a bit. He gave me a hug again when I entered his cell, though he waited until I could see him before actually doing it. This time, I didn’t throw him off me, though part of me kind of wanted to. I just can’t wrap my head around what’s happening here. We’re on the opposite sides of the law. I shouldn’t have this pressing need for him to be nearby, but I do. I’ve tried so long to push these feelings aside, or to channel them into capturing him, and now that I have, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve started to realize that this is the way it’s always been. That my desire to capture him was more than just my job. It was personal, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about that. The men seem supportive, with the only detracting person still being Yata. He seems to have overall accepted the fact that this is something that’s happening. I don’t know how to explain to him why I have to do this. Hopefully, he’ll eventually understand.”

Report #8, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I still think Lupin is hiding something from me, and when I tried to ask about it, he once again ignored me. For now, I’m giving up on figuring it out by focusing on tonight. Lupin seemed over the moon when I talked to him about it this morning. I’m mostly nervous. I’m getting off an hour early to go home and prepare. The men seemed excited for me. They kept cheering me on about it. They even got Yata to join in, though he seemed embarrassed. It makes me happy to finally see him come around. Yata’s still new to this. I think it’s taken him a while to understand that the life of someone like us is not all about catching criminals. Sometimes, it’s about capturing them and then going on dates with them. I still can’t believe I agreed to do this.”

Chapter 3:

Zenigata pulled up to the police station embarrassed.

He was dressed in a dark brown pinstripe suit, with a pristine white dress shirt, a cream and gold striped tie, and an old pair dress shoes. He felt oddly stuffy when walking into the station. Like he looked out of place. Most of the people on duty complimented him as he passed, and suddenly he wished he had not gone without his hat. At least with it he could hide, and maybe get rid of this feeling of wanting to flee. This was Lupin’s reward, after all. He couldn’t back out now, not when the thief had buckled down and done what he had promised to, anyway.

He noticed about halfway through the office that most of his colleagues wouldn’t look him in the eye. Normally this wouldn’t be something that bothered him. He could be intimidating, especially to younger officers, based on his title alone, but this was different. People he’d worked with for years didn’t quite meet his gaze. They dodged his questions, welcomed him and asked him what he had planned, but they didn’t look at him. It got to the point that he thought something was wrong with the way he looked, and a wave of self-consciousness washed over him once again.

The only outlier was Yata, who led him back to Lupin’s cell with the same smile he always had on his face. He treated Zenigata as he normally did, and for the moment, that helped to calm him down.

“Is something wrong?” Zenigata asked as they passed the rows of desks.

Yata shook his head. “I don’t believe so. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that everyone seems to be acting weird.”

Yata shrugged. “It’s not everyday a police inspector has a date with a world-renowned criminal. I’m not sure it’s surprising that they’re acting differently.”

Zenigata shifted the basket he had brought with him to rest under one of his arms. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Yata looked back, holding out his keycard, but not actually scanning it against the hidden scanner quite yet. “No. Why would I be mad?”

Zenigata rubbed his neck. “Well, I know this isn’t quite what you expected when you agreed to become my partner.”

Yata laughed and it surprised him. “With all due respect, sir, nothing we’ve done so far has been what I was expecting. It’s been fun though, and I hope we continue to work together.”

“So you’re really not upset at me?”

“No. I thought it was odd at first, but then the men reminded me that this is always how it’s been between you and Lupin.”

Zenigata was astonished. “That’s not true…”

Yata smiled. “Are you sure? From what they tell me, you’ve always been smitten with him.”

“That’s… okay, probably true, but I don’t know if ‘always’ is the word I’d use.”

“Whatever you say, Inspector.” Yata scanned the keycard, and punched in a code that was linked to his work phone. “You ready?”

Zenigata sighed, looking down at himself and the basket. He looked back up to Yata and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The feeling of nervousness was so strong his chest hurt. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting as Yata opened the door. Maybe it would be empty? Maybe this was how they discovered how Lupin had played them? Maybe it would be normal? He didn’t know.

What he wasn’t expecting was the sound of music, the smell of scented wax candles, or the shuffle of feet as Lupin rushed to finish whatever it was he was preparing. He stepped through to see the thief turn on his heel, greeting Zenigata just as the door to his cell slammed shut behind him.

“Pops! Welcome!” Lupin swung his arms aside to showcase what he had been working on. It was then Zenigata noticed that both the room, and Lupin, had been transformed to match that of some fancy French restaurant. There was a tall circular table in the middle of the room, covered by a bright white sheet. On this table sat a basket of red wine and two crystalline glasses, as well as two tall candles and a single red rose in a vase. On the floor near the table was a small black cassette radio playing a song Zenigata didn’t recognize. It said,

“ I ain't got any worries

And I ain't got any money

But luck seems to follow

Wherever I go

When you said hello

My luck disappeared

You didn't even know I cared. ”

Lupin wore a black three piece suit, fancier than anything Zenigata owned, with a white ruffled blouse, and shiny silver cufflinks. He was so surprised by this, he didn’t even hug back when the thief wrapped his arms around his shoulders. His mind was too preoccupied with trying to figure out how he’d done this, along with processing just how good Lupin looked in that suit.

“What is this?” Zenigata asked, voice weak.

Lupin pulled away from him and smiled. He led Zenigata to the table, and pulled out one of the two chairs for him to take. “Our date,” he said. “It’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

“How? How did you do this?”

Lupin’s smile turned into a grin. He picked up the glasses and placed one in front of Zenigata. “I enlisted the help of your men. They planned everything. All I did was order some stuff for Jigen to drop off. Like this wine, or my favorite suit.”

“They… really? Is that why they wouldn’t look at me as I was walking in?”

Lupin shrugged. “I guess they didn’t want to ruin the surprise. What do you think? Did they do a good job?”

“It’s perfect,” Zenigata said, still shellshocked. “Wait, did you say you’ve spoken to Jigen?”

“Yes, but not about escaping. I’ve kept my promise.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about. I just want to know how.”

Lupin looked guilty, and pulled at something at the top of his left ear. A thin flesh colored piece of metal appeared between his fingers and Lupin held it out to show him. “This is how. It’s an antenna with a builtin speaker and microphone. I connect it to this,” he removed another piece by his ear,  “and I can talk to whoever it’s connected to like a cellphone.”

“Shit, didn’t think of that,” Zenigata said. He wasn’t really surprised. With the amount of contraptions Lupin had on his person at any one time, it was impossible to be alarmed by missing something.

Lupin’s expression of guilt shifted to pride and he grinned. “Clever isn’t it? I came up with it for situations just like this.”

“You came up with it for dates with police inspectors?” Zenigata smiled, watching as Lupin’s expression shifted once more into disdain.

“Quit being facetious. You know what I invented it for. Now drink your wine.”

Zenigata nodded and picked up his glass. “About that. You said Jigen dropped this off? How’d he do that without being caught?”

Lupin took a sip of his own glass, tipping it toward him. “He disguised himself as one of your officers. Said something about finding everything I asked for dropped off at the door with a note attached saying, ‘For Lupin.’”

“And they didn’t notice?”

Lupin bobbed his head. “What can I say? There’s truly no one out there like you, Pops.”

“Koichi.”

“Hm?”

“For tonight, call me Koichi. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Lupin laughed. “Yes it is. Doesn’t that mean you should call me Arsène?”

“Do you want me to?” Zenigata asked.

Lupin hid his face in his glass. “I wouldn’t be against it, though I cannot remember the last time someone called me by my first name. It might have been right before my grandfather died. I can’t be sure.”

“Well, Arsène , if it’s any consolation, I don’t remember the last time someone called me by my first name either.”

Lupin shivered and placed his glass back down on the table. “Okay, that’s gonna take some getting used to. It doesn’t even sound like my name anymore.”

“I can call you Lupin instead if you’d like.”

Lupin shook his head. “Nah, if it’s coming from you, Koichi. It’s fine.”

Zenigata smiled. He leaned forward in his seat and took another sip from his glass. “Alright, but we go back to normal after this. I don’t know how the men would react if they heard you calling me Koichi.”

Lupin nodded. “And I don’t know how Jigen would react if he heard you call me Arsène. He might actually kill me. He gets kind of touchy when it comes to things like that.”

“I don’t think Jigen would be capable of killing you,” Zenigata said. “One, you’re well… you and two, he loves you too much.”

“Oh he’s capable, alright. If Jigen wanted to, he’d be able to take me out in mere seconds. Luckily, as you said, he loves me.”

“A lot of people do,” Zenigata said.

Lupin leaned forward. The look on his face was wide and cocky. “Is one of those people you, Koichi ?”

The way Lupin purred his name gave Zenigata pause more than the actual question did. He found himself spluttering for an answer, his entire face flushed and bright red. “I… well . Yes. I suppose so.”

The song playing over the radio had long since repeated itself, playing softly to aid the thoughts running through Zenigata’s mind. Now it said,

“ Lucky-I can't be lucky in love

All my four leaf clovers

Can't do me no good

Funny, just when I needed to be lucky

Couldn't help but lovin' you

Lovin' you… ”

Lupin repeated the last of the lyrics in a whisper between them, wineglass all but forgotten and Zenigata the main focus of his attention. He reached forward and plucked the inspectors hands up off his lap, rubbing calloused thumbs over the top of both of them.

Zenigata stared at their entwined hands, and couldn’t help the thrum of emotion from rising deep within him. He almost felt like crying. He wasn’t quite sure why.

Lupin noticed this and smiled at him. He leaned farther forward, close enough that Zenigata could smell the wine on his breath. “I haven’t gotten a chance to tell you this yet, but you look wonderful tonight, Koichi. I wasn’t even expecting you to come dressed up.”

“I couldn’t very well show up in my regular clothes now, could I? Just because it’s been a while, doesn’t mean I don’t remember how to prepare for a date.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Lupin said. “You’re perfect no matter what you’re dressed in.”

“That’s not true, but thank you anyway, Arsène.”

Lupin looked scandalized. “It is true, but you’re welcome.”

Zenigata felt awkward, but he plowed forward anyway. “You… you look nice tonight too. So nice in fact, I think I short circuited when Yata let me into your cell.”

Lupin giggled and nodded his head. “I noticed that, though I wasn’t sure if it was me or if it was everything we’d managed to sneak in.”

“It was both,” Zenigata said. “Though you were a big part of it.”

“Even in jail, I clean up pretty nice, don’t I?” Lupin looked down at himself and back up at Zenigata. “They even let me shave.”

“I can tell, and yes. You’re probably the most beautiful person I know.”

Lupin looked genuinely touched. “Even compared to Fujicakes?”

Zenigata nodded. “She doesn’t even begin to hold a torch to you. I promise.”

“Hey, Fuji-chan’s a knockout. Don’t underestimate her looks.”

“Don’t underestimate yours either,” Zenigata said. “You’re gorgeous, you know?”

“So I’ve been told,” Lupin smiled. “Hey, Koichi. I have a question.”

Zenigata dipped his head. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Everything stopped, and the blush returned to Zenigata’s face. That song kept up it’s chorus, saying,

“ Couldn't help but lovin' you

Lovin' you… ”

“Yeah…”

Lupin inclined his head, letting go of Zenigata’s hands to press his own against his cheeks. His lips were soft as they met the inspector’s, sweet like wine and cherry chapstick. For several moments they stayed like that, lost in a world of warmth, love, and that happy song playing in the backdrop. Zenigata’s heart raced as the time went on, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. The kiss felt so right against him that he wished it would go on forever. The rush of air between them tickeled as their breaths quickened, and their tongues slid together through parted lips. It was like nothing Zenigata had ever experienced. Like lightning in a bottle or the unmistakable feeling he got during a car chase.

When they pulled apart, he wanted to go back in. When Lupin smiled at him, he did. The second kiss was faster, more passionate, but just as sweet. They pushed against each other, fighting for dominance. For a time, it was unclear who would break away first. It seemed to go on endlessly, but at long last, it was Zenigata who broke contact.

They came up from the kiss huffing into each other’s faces, out of breath but grinning like school girls. Lupin snuck his chair closer to Zenigata, and wrapped his arms around his back to bury his face in the inspector’s neck. He sighed heavily, purring almost like a contented cat.

“I’m glad we made that bet,” he said. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

Zenigata hummed and allowed himself to nuzzle his nose against the thief’s shoulder. “I did too. We should do this every time I catch you.”

“Thought I wasn’t getting away?” Lupin chuckled, and Zenigata felt it bubble between their chests.

“You’re not,” Zenigata said. “But in the case you do, I’m going to be extra determined to get you back.”

Lupin’s chuckled turned into genuine laughter, and he pulled away just enough to see Zenigata’s face. They were close enough that their knees pressed together, the fronts of each of their chairs practically touching. “Challenge accepted,” he said. “Though we don’t have to save these dates for every time you catch me.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Zenigata asked.

“Hey, the chase and date themselves might be fun, but I’d actually like to take you out sometime.”

“I wouldn’t be against that. This turned out to be more than I was expecting.”

“Is that a good thing?” Lupin asked.

Zenigata nodded and pressed his lips against Lupin’s forehead. “It’s the best.”

“Good,” Lupin leaned down onto his shoulder again. He grew heavy until, that is, he noticed something. He perked up. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

Lupin broke away from him to grab the basket Zenigata had deposited beside his chair. He held it out. “This.”

Zenigata slapped his forehead, having completely forgotten about his basket. He took it from Lupin and placed it on the table, opening it up and dropping its contents around the candles and rose. The moment he pulled out two containers of cup noodles, his electric kettle, and bottles of water, Lupin lost it. He nearly fell out of his chair laughing, and for a moment Zenigata grew defensive.

“What are you laughing at?”

The laughing continued. “Why…why did you bring cup noodles?”

“It was all I had.”

“But we’re on a date .”

Zenigata was confused. “So? They’re good and easy to make. There’s not much we can do in a jail cell so I had to improvise.”

“Yeah, but cup noodles? You could have ordered something from a restaurant and brought it with you.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Zenigata said. “And anyway, why does it matter? Why’s it matter what we eat?”

“It doesn’t,” Lupin said. “It’s just so incredibly you . I’m not sure what else I was expecting.”

“I’m not sure what you were expecting either.”

Lupin continued to laugh. “You realize the wine I asked for isn’t cheap, right? Wine and cup noodles. It’s so… perfect .”

Zenigata began to put his supplies away, offended by Lupin’s reaction. “If you don’t want ‘em, I’ll leave. Maybe this was a mistake after all.”

Lupin threw out his hands to stop him. “ No . No. Don’t go. I'm sorry. I’m not mocking you. It just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“I can order something too if that’s what you’d prefer. I’m sure Yata would—”

“No. Make the damn noodles, Koichi. I’m sure they’ll be delicious.”

Zenigata slowly started to place his supplies back down on the table. “You’re sure?”

Lupin nodded. “I can’t wait to tell Jigen about this. He’ll get a kick out of it.”

“Alright,” Zenigata said. “I’ll be sure not to bring noodles with me on our next date.”

Lupin shook his head. “But you have to. At this point, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Perhaps, but it’s only because I love you.”

Zenigata stared at him, all the emotions of the past hour rushing back to flood his brain.

“I love you too,” he said, along with the chorus of that song, and the chuckles of his thief reverberating throughout the jail cell.

[snowgoldwaylon]

And That's When You Came - Naga X Reader

So this is my first Naga x reader fic, I'm a bit nervous about it y'all. I hope you guys enjoy!

TW: Violence, kidnapping, murder, drugs, strong language.

This time around, druglords were swarming parts of the Jungles around the world. This sometimes made working with the CIA and Marines hard trying to tie up loose ends.

So, of course, you took a leadership role, and assembled a small, efficient team to head out to the Jungle, and clean up some of these businesses.

You had gotten word over enemy comms that there was a possibility of trafficking coming up, just a few days short of today. So you know today was the day to make the right move and head out.

You gathered the team up, and took off right there and then. You had to head Northeast until you reached the heart of the Jungle. The plan was to ambush whoever was doing this and make them lead your team right to the main compound.

After 4 hours of constant flying, your heli touched down a few clicks North of the potential location. You took out the evidence from the comm broadcast and looked around.

The druglords were smart around these areas. They communicated in code. Morse code, to be exact. Thankfully you could read and understand morse code like you could in your native language. Looks like some classes pay off!

You took a minute and looked over the past conversation between these unknown individuals. You read the morse code with ease, and quickly you understood what was said.

'TRIBAL VILLAGE, WEST OF THE RED STREAM. FOLLOW IT 5 CLICKS AND MAKE A SHARP LEFT BY THE SKULLS.'

You felt a sick, sinking feeling when it mentioned skulls. Now you knew that you were about to walk a thin line with danger, or possibly even death.

You looked back at your team who geard up. You turned your radio on and spoke to the one man you could trust.

"Lazar, I might not come back from this. If I don't, please send a search team. I'm about to broadcast you my current coordinates." You said calmly.

"Y/N, you will come back. I promise to come to save your ass myself." Lazar said.

"Appreciate that, I'll keep in touch. 2-3 out." And off your radio went.

You rounded your team up and stood upon a rock so they could hear you loud and clear.

"Okay Strike team, we are going in. You will follow me and my orders, we stay together at all times. This could potentially be a large threat, and I will not have any deaths today. Now, follow me. Keep an eye out for any potential harm. Form the formation we talked about. Always check those corners and look back!" You said, strapping your MP5 around you tightly.

You led your team off in the direction that the morse code told you about. You came to the red stream and decided to take a look around and see if you saw any possible movement or another break in the case.

You took your binoculars and scanned the area. In the distance, you saw a small, white building. It was covered by trees, well hidden if you didn't have good vision.

"Hey Houston, take a look over there, almost 3 and a half inches to the left. See the white building?" You said, handing the binoculars to your teammate.

Houston took them and looked, he turned back to you and nodded.

"I see it. Do you think we should go check it out?" He asked.

You thought for a moment. What if this was another building with possible evidence or even someone in there you could question? You looked back towards him and nodded.

"Yeah, I think we should. Let's get in there and at least check it out. It'll be worth it if we do I think." You reasoned.

He quickly gathered the team, and you made a slow but steady movement towards the building in question. There was no doubt you were nervous, you had a really bad feeling and you weren't sure why.

When you came up to the building, it was a garage. It had a large, retracting door and a small door for someone to walk into. But there was no house, just a garage.

"Okay Houston, we're gonna walk into this place very carefully, and slowly." You said.

After getting confirmation from everyone, you walked up to the small door. You carefully took the handle and twisted it. The door creaked open as if this was some sort of horror movie and the killer finds the person hiding.

You took a few steps in and checked all the corners. Your team followed behind and within minutes, the whole place had gotten a clean sweep. There was nobody to be found. So, you quickly gathered everyone in the middle.

"Okay, so this place is clear. What we are going to do next i-" You were cut off by a large bang.

BANG!

You drew your MP5 and took a protective stance. Suddenly, thats when a loud and frantic banging started to happen. What took you off guard was the cries for help that followed.

"PLEASE HELP, I'M DOWN HERE!" The male voice cried out.

You looked all over the room, and noticed a hatch to what looked like a cellar, the doors chained shut with heavy rocks on top.

"Commander, I don't like the feeling of this..." One of your team, Leon shuttered out.

"Cover me, we must save this man!" You said with no hesitation.

You ran over to the doors, and ripped the rock off with brute strength. You smashed the chains off with the butt of your gun, and yanked them off. You could now open the door.

"Houston, Leon, with me!" You commanded.

They stacked up behind you and took stance. You ripped the doors open, and out came a man fell out, wearing some sort of uniform. And behind him was a some of two dozen men, armed. You had been tricked.

"Commander!" Houston yelled, jumping in front of you as a bullet as shot. It ripped through his heart like a dagger. He fell to the ground, going limp.

"You fuckers!" You shouted.

You went to shoot, but a rock came flying and hit you right in the eye. You heard everyone else struggle and a few gunshots. When you came back from the hit, you were grabbed and restrained.

The man you first saw, immediately tied all your team up, but a couple of the guys had you in a hold, rather than tied up. You were so scared, for everyone. The first guy who came out grabbed his walkie and talked into it.

"Naga, this is Blade. I have their Commander. Waiting your order."

"Good, bring their Commander to me. Take the rest to the pit. We have work that needs done." The mysterious voice spoke over the radio.

"Got it."

When your team started to get taken away like cattle, you got pissed. You saw the bodies of a few crew mates and it made you almost get sick. Houston and Leon were dead, all because of you.

When you started to be dragged away, you began to kick and scream.

"Get off me you rat fucking bastards! I'll kill you all!" You shouted.

The men only chucked, and kept walking.

You were able to get an arm free and sucker punch one. The other, you kicked straight in the teeth, which made him double over. You took the opportunity and snapped his neck with ease.

The other man though quickly recovered and tackled you. You both fought for a minute until you somehow got on top, flipping him to his back. You restrained his arms with your leg and grabbed his face.

"I fucking told you, asshole. Now, join your friend." You said with anger. You quickly pulled his head back, killing him. You got off and took a rifle he wore.

You looked around and started to gather your surroundings. Now you were kind of confused. First thing first, you had to find your team. You ran back to the garage and went to the corpses of Houston and Leon.

"I'm so sorry you guys." You said, picking up their dog tags. This was the only way to identify them now.

You left and followed a blood trail to a nearby meadow. There, in the distance, you saw thick trees. You came up to a set of some, and in front of you was a 4-way split.

"Fuck! I'll be fucked if I go the wrong way...." But before you could even think, you felt a presence.

Like, somebody was watching you. You looked up into the trees, and that's when you saw a man wearing a strange cap, sunglasses, and a bandanna. He held a tube in his mouth.

Before you could run, he put air into it and shot out a dart at you of some sort. Luck was not with you today though.

It sucks right into your neck. And it felt like a rock had just dropped on you from a great height. You fell to your knees and collapsed. You tried to crawl, but the world went black around you.

The man jumped down from the trees and came over. He removed the dart and rolled you over to see your face. When he saw it was you, he picked you up and carried you towards his large camp.

"Finally got you."

Meanwhile, back at the safe house

Lazar came up to Adler and Sims.

"Doc, Y/N was supposed to come back 5 hours ago. I was even told if I don't hear anything, to come to find them." Lazar spoke with worry.

Adler almost brushed it off, until he heard your name.

"Wait, as in Y/N Y/L/N? Commander of Strike team?" He questioned.

"Yes, remember they went into the Jungle for the possible compound raid. I think something is wrong." He said.

Adler put out his cigarette and got up. He walked over to a plan made out by you. His eyes went large, and he immediately started to pack up and get ready.

"Lazar, you are right. There is a good chance they are in danger. We leave right now! Get everyone rounded up and locked and loaded." He commanded.

Lazar did as he was told, and got everything in line. The crew left within 5 minutes.

One day later, Y/N POV

You finally woke back up, but you were changed to a wall. Your clothes have scratches, and your head felt like a bobblehead. The room had a bright, uncomfortable light above the head. You looked around and saw so much drug paraphernalia.

You were about to pass out again until the door opened, and the same man from before stepped into the room. You both made eye contact, and you saw a slight smile behind his bandanna.

He came over to you and ran his hand over your face.

"Well, look who is finally awake. I thought you weren't going to ever wake back up, my precious little dandelion." He said in a creepy tone.

You revolted to his touch and tried to kick. But, you were held in place by the tough shackles.

"No no no, little one. You won't be leaving now. Do you know how long I waited for you? And here you fall right into my lap...." He trailed off.

You still kicked and screamed, until he finally walked away over to a projector.

"Oh Y/N, I've been watching you for months now. I knew you had been tracing people like me to raid their compounds. Well, I didn't want you fucking up my business." He said, pulling up the images on the projector.

You looked at them in horror when you realized they were of you, in many different states. You at your own home, on a date with Lazar, out with the safe house team for bowling and drinks, even you in the shower. The fucking shower!

You began to cry. You were very afraid.

The man only laughed upon seeing your tears and started playing audio logs of you calling your family on holidays.

"Don't cry, little one. I've always wanted you in my life." He spoke, slowly walking towards you. You began to panic, and started kicking and muffled screaming again.

When he reached you, he ran his hand up your side, and to your face.

"Don't worry. My name is Naga and I'm here to keep you forever. You are mine now, you know." He said.

He stepped back and turned on an older song. He kept the pictures up as he walked towards you with a knife. Your heart sank.

"Do you see this, honey? This is what you'll get when you misbehave. Understand?" He spat at you.

"I'm going to undo your gag. Don't do anything stupid." Naga said.

As soon as he did, he smiled.

"There. Now, why don't you tell me something with that gorgeous mouth?"

You looked right at him, and spit right into his eye. He jumped back in disgust. That pissed him off, and his gaze turned cold.

"You fucking bitch! You'll pay for that!"

But before he could even lunge, a man came from behind and wrestled him to the ground. That man was none other than Lawrence Sims.

You started to wiggle as you saw Lazar and everyone else behind him. He quickly ran over to you and got you free. Adler jumped in with Sims and restrained Naga. He put up one hell of a fight though.

You were carried away to the EVAC chopper, where Mason sat.

"Y/N!" Mason shouted, helping you get onboard.

You sat up and coughed. Your body hurt so much, you felt drained.

"Please Mason, clean up this cut on my leg. It's getting infected." You pleaded.

Immediately, he started to tend to every wound you had. It stung like hell but you were relieved it was over. Lazar sat with you and held your hand. You felt like you were in shellshock.

After about 10 minutes, everyone came back to the heli. Lazar didn't look happy.

"What the hell? Where is he??" He questioned.

Adler pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Sims just signed.

"He got away. The bastard is like a snake. Plus not to mention, he turned my balls into innies." Adler said with defeat.

You sat up and hugged the blanket tighter around you. You looked around at everyone as the heli flew off.

"Wait, what about my team? They still might be down there...."

Adler nodded at you.

"We sent in spec ops to recover survivors. But we are glad to see you back here safe."

You nodded with relief and lay back against the heli. You looked out over the dark skies and the now ominous trees below. You knew, deep down inside down there, this wasn't over.

Naga still roamed these trees. You looked down over the treetops and clenched your fist tight.

"I promise, this isn't over. I'll be back, even stronger."

[rodeoxqueen]

SMELLS LIKE QUARAN-NEROKIRI SPIRIT 

Nero/Kyrie

“In quarantine, Nero and Kyrie spend time together.” 

Rodeo’s Two Pieces: 

First time writing for Nero/Kyrie. Tread lightly with my take of their dynamic. 

(I)- Dalgona Coffee and Cookies. 

Despite how everything was shut down and the grocery was found vacant of basic necessities, Nero was grateful to at least be with someone he loved the most. 

“Look, we probably need some time off from kickin’ demon ass anyways,” Nico explained, smoking a cigarette during the video chat. 

“Yeah, not like demons care about being six feet away. People don’t even do that.” Nero looked at himself in the little square in the corner of his phone. Clad in a grey hoodie, he hadn’t even bothered putting on anything over his boxers. No one had come to visit since the mandate to stay inside, what was the point? 

Nico was in her garage again, from what he could see in the camera view. Cigarettes and old cups of coffee littered her desk, warbled country music playing off-view. 

“Who knows, maybe I’ll make something to fix that. I was thinking a mask-gun, rapid-fire reloading.” 

“Artisan of Arms, huh?” Nero laughed, getting up from his bed. 

“You fuckin’ bet. Now I gotta go. Got some things to weld.” 

“See ya, Nico. Stay safe, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a peace sign before pressing “end video call.” 

The video chat ended and Nero tucked his phone into his pocket. Even banter just wasn’t the same virtually. 

“Who was that? Nico?” Nero made it down the hallway to see Kyrie, bustling about getting things from the cupboards. 

“Yeah, still building stuff as usual.” 

Kyrie had been in their apartment’s kitchen, deciding to try her hand at some recipes she saw online. A bag of flour, too many bowls, and more chocolate than Nero remembered buying, all laid out on the table. 

Just when he wanted something to eat, he’d have to wait or his girlfriend would practically make enough to feed an army and be surprised when he didn’t want anymore. 

He opted for a cup of water instead. 

Nero admired her hair, how it looked when it wasn’t in a ponytail, how it sat perfectly on her shoulders. Seeing how she started to measure some ingredients, he took the hair tie on his wrist, careful fingers bringing it into a low ponytail. 

“Oh, thank you.” She commented, opening her booklet of recipes she had handwritten. Neat, slanted cursive in a smattering of blue, red, and black read out recipes for cookies, cakes, and bread. 

“You look busy, planning to make all of those?” Nero rested his chin on her shoulder, shrouding her with warmth. 

“Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck at home, might as well try some recipes out. Maybe we can deliver some to the orphanage.” 

“That is if I don’t eat all your prototypes first.” She laughed, birdsong to Nero’s ears. 

“As long as you help me I don’t mind if you do.” Kyrie handed him a measuring cup. Nero sighed, taking it. He always lost count of how many cups of flour he was supposed to put in the bowl. 

A jar of porous dough caught his eye as he sifted some baking soda in his white mixture. He took it from Kyrie’s side of the island. 

“Whoa, what is this? A science experiment?” Kyrie chuckled, watching Nero scrutinize the date on the white tape to the top of the mason jar. 

“No, it’s a sourdough starter! It’s basically wild yeast. We can make bread with it since people bought out all the dry yeast in the grocery store.” 

Nero shook it with curiosity and then opened the silver lid, making an “eh” face at the smell. 

“It’s yeast alright.” 

Kyrie continued whipping up the sugar and butter mixture, Nero helping himself to a handful of chocolate chips. 

“Have you talked to your uncle and father? They must be staying at the shop in Redgrave.” 

Nero shrugged. 

“Most likely, I haven’t talked to them yet. Dante probably didn’t pay the phone bill and Vergil doesn’t know how to use the phone anyways.” 

“Let’s just hope they’re getting along during this time.” 

Nero thought back to all the “family outings” he had since his uncle and father returned from hell, mostly just jobs becoming contests of strength that turned to friendly family fights. Endless banter and elbowing. 

Honestly, compared to that, standing next to his girlfriend while they shaped cookies for the oven was heaven. 

Once the chocolate chip cookie dough was done baking, Kyrie insisted they make some whipped coffee while they cooled.  

“I thought you didn’t like coffee, Kyrie.” She stooped down to find something in the lower cabinets. A robotic hand that was colored dark blue and black, his old Devil Bringer, appeared with a tiny whisk duct-taped to it. 

“Yeah, but that TikTok made it look so good.” Nero handed her the glass container of instant coffee. 

Turning on the Devil Bringer, the tiny whisk spun to life, rapidly mixing sugar, coffee, and water together. With her back turned, Nero popped a thing of cookie dough in his mouth. 

“Honestly, Nico should have patented these Devil Bringers, make a bunch of money, and maybe she’d stop trying to rip me off all those times.” 

“Support local businesses, Nero.” 

He looked over her shoulder, surprised at how an abysmal brown mixture had become fluffy and thrice its previous volume. 

Two cups of milk poured, the practically instantly whipped coffee laid on top like a decadent Mount Everest next to a still-warm plate of cookies. 

“Cheers!” Kyrie clinked glasses with him, stirring her mug vigorously with a spoon. He copied her, taking a sip of surprisingly light and sweet coffee. 

When he lowered his cup, Nero both revealed to the world a mustache of whipped coffee. 

Kyrie snorted into her cup, covering her mouth as she bit back a laugh. Embarrassed, Nero went to wipe it off when Kyrie pecked him on the lips. She drew back to reveal an imprint of the ‘stache on her own upper lip. 

“We match now.” Kyrie giggled, helping herself to another gooey cookie. 

Half a plate of cookies and two mugs properly drained of its contents, Kyrie and Nero loaded up the dishwasher to do the work. 

“This is coffee, why am I tired?” Kyrie yawned. 

The couch was this god-awful IKEA purchase that took hours for Nero to just figure out what the instructions meant. But right now, it perfectly supported both of them while they slept away their food coma. 

(II)- Curl Up And Dye. 

After the second time the mandate got lengthened, Nero could sense that Kyrie was starting to wane in her ever-positive attitude. The news had nothing good to say, and the number of shows they had binged left them indifferent to watching anything more. 

They did a lot of singing during quarantine, Kyrie always being the musical one. Evanescence was one of their favorites to sing together, Nero’s guitar skills and Kyrie’s ability to hit those high notes left many memorable nights of laughter. 

After a while, Kyrie began to just sit on the couch a lot and have Nero pay her company. 

“What’s wrong?” Kyrie sighed heavily, curling into Nero’s hoodie as he opted to stay shirtless. 

“I don’t know Nero, it just feels like everything is the same. We go through the same things every day and I just feel...trapped.” 

Nero kissed the nape of her neck, humming in agreement. 

“Look, I’m usually the one going to you for stuff like this but...it will get better. It’s been a really hard time for all of us, and we’re just watching everything go downhill. It’s not a good situation but, you got me. Always. And there’s still a lot of things we can change up if that helps.” He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, feeling her take a deep breath. 

“You’re right Nero. That really did help. Thank you for listening.” 

“Of course.” 

While he scrolled on his own phone, he didn’t heed all the things Kyrie was watching. She touched her own long hair, seeing the way other people recorded their own home-salon trims. 

“Things to change, huh?” She mumbled. 

So here they were now. 

“It looks so bad!” Kyrie exclaimed, her face in her hands, hair on the bathroom sink. Nero shook his head. 

“No it’s not, Kyrie! You look fine, just let me fix it!” In the mirror, Nero cringed at the way her hair was ridiculously over-layered. 

“Um, what did you try to do-” 

“Curtain bangs! Oh Nero, I shouldn’t have tried to change up my hair!” Kyrie was thoroughly upset, seeing how her bout of bravery lead to her bangs being mauled by her own hands. 

Nero hugged her, noting that she had been wearing his shirt while she trimmed her hair. 

Okay that shirt’s gonna itch for a while until all the hair comes out. 

“It’s okay, let me see if I can fix it.” Kyrie blushed in the mirror, groaning at how bad her hair was cut. 

“There’s no way you could make it worse than what I did.” 

Nero gingerly took the scissors Kyrie put in the sink, a little bit too small for his hands but good enough. Although he was no stylist, he could tell where Kyrie had either cut too much off or unevenly. 

Eventually, they did manage to cut it in a way that hid the previous mistakes. Kyrie took another deep breath. 

“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” She murmured, arms crossed. 

Nero chuckled at her rare emotional outburst. He was glad to have been able to be there for her. She always hid how she felt, helping others her way of expressing herself. Now with no one around but him, he totally understood that she felt helpless. 

No one liked being helpless. 

He kissed her cheek and a lightbulb went off in his head. 

“You wanna dye my hair?” Kyrie turned around in surprise. 

“What?” 

“I mean, who knows how long this shutdown is gonna be, it’ll be fun,” Kyrie noted how Nero had forgone shaving, his peach fuzz becoming something more. 

Honest blue eyes peered at her, wondering what she would think. Her surprise softened to a sort of relief in their solidarity. 

“What color, Nero?” 

“Neon green-” 

“Nico’s going to make fun of you.” Kyrie giggled. Nero shrugged nonchalantly. 

“I don’t mind it.” 

(III)- Can’t Get Out Of It, Get Into It. 

“Nero, you look so fucking ridiculous.” 

“Shut up, Dante.” 

His uncle finally managed to figure out how to work the virtual chat on his fossil of a computer, and Nero was already prepared to end the call. 

His father sat slightly off-camera, not in the mood to entertain Dante’s antics to ridicule his son. Although, he did look oddly radioactive with his washed-out green hair and strong quarter-past five o’clock shadow.  

“Quarantine did not do you a favor, good lord,” Dante commented, kicking his feet up on his desk. Nero flipped him off. 

“Good to know you’re still living in shambles, not surprised neither of you cleaned up after yourselves.” The number of bottles on the floor was a travesty and the couch littered with poetry books Vergil had slowly begun to hoard. 

Nico entered the zoom call, smoking another cigarette Nero was lucky to not have to smell. 

“Nice broccoli head.” 

Nero flipped her off as well. Kyrie came into view, smiling at her boyfriend’s family and their shared friends. Nero decided to get a drink, clicking a few buttons before letting Kyrie have the seat. 

As they discussed how the business would continue with Devil May Cry, Kyrie sat next to Nero. 

It was mainly business, until it got to a certain line that Dante said. 

“I don’t know, it just feels like things are just going to keep staying like this. Hate to break it to you Nero, but it’s going to be tough for a while.” 

Kyrie finally heard enough, scooching Nero aside so she could talk. 

“Kyrie, wait-” 

“We’re going to get past this. As long as humanity still keeps coming together for the sake of benefiting each other, and we keep working to make sure to keep safe, we will get past this. We just have to keep hoping, and sure, hoping isn’t always going to make you feel better. I would know. But in a time where we do feel helpless, we should connect with other people in a different way. That’s why we succeed, we keep moving, we keep adapting! And hope, hope keeps that going.” 

Kyrie took a long breath. Looking at the dumbfounded group, she waited for a response. 

“Um, Kyrie. You were muted.” Nero finally said. Kyrie realized her blunder and how Nero’s hand was attempting to unmute them. 

“Oh.” Kyrie flushed, looking embarrassed. 

“I have no idea what you just said, but that’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry, that was so awkward.” 

“Don’t worry yourself, Kyrie. I bet it was real sweet whatever you had to say,” Nico assured. 

The zoom call was full of laughter since, a business call turned to a time to discuss how each person was doing. 

Dante and Vergil had spent days and nights sparring, Vergil learning more about humanity from Dante, and “making their own pizzas.” 

Nico had continued welding and making weapons for her own curiosity rather than based off of commission-based instructions. The van finally had the vinyl player fixed and she apparently gave herself a stick-and-poke. 

“So what did you two love birds do?” Nico asked, lighting another cancer stick. 

Nero and Kyrie looked at each other, smiling at their shared memories of this strange period in human history. 

“Where do we even start?”  Kyrie said, thinking of all the days and nights that seemed to breeze by and also slowly progress. 

Nero ruffled his longer messy green hair, Kyrie tucking her curtain bangs behind her ear. As they were two peas in the pod, Nero had decided to get another set of gray sweats for Kyrie, matching finally. 

Kyrie bit into a cookie, offering Nero some. 

“Smells like quarantine spirit, huh?” Dante finger-gunned.

Nero chuckled. 

“Hell yeah.” 

[kuradoberijam]

Jinjin for the opinion ask game (if someone else already sent him, then Tsubaki maybe?)

You are surprisingly the first person to send me Jin!!

❄️ Overall Opinion of him:

Literally such a fucking loser (affectionate) I have been attached to this Blorbo for the last 6 years even though he sucks so bad. He is so pathetic (also affectionate).

❄️ Gender & Sexuality Headcanons:

I think he’s bi given the right circumstances and also trans but I’ve also been kinda flirting with the HC of him being in that sort of grey aro area + some sexual aversion (not quite ace) just because I couldn’t really see him dating anyone and that working out for more than a month. Jin at his core is shitty at holding himself accountable which is important for communication in relationships.

❄️ Favorite moment in canon:

Oh 100% when Ragna lectures him in continuum shift to pull his head out of his ass. That in general is actually one of my favorite scenes with them together because it was the last real time we got any potential for their character dynamic. It really showed that despite everything Ragna still cares about Jin because Jin is his little brother but also showcases that their relationship can’t change until Jin pulls himself together enough for them to have a proper final fight. I could talk on and on about that scene but I would be rambling too much. 

❄️ Favorite moment in a fan work:

I’m going to flex on myself a little bit here because I’m one of the few writers on ao3 that doesn’t write ragjin incest shit but I still really like Bury the Hatchet. It kind of aged a little bit poorly considering I’ve gotten better at writing but I still feel like it holds its own with Jin characterization.

❄️ Favorite Line:

I think most of his lines suck so bad but his introspection at the end of his calamity trigger route still gets me. I drew it once but I was 17 then and didn’t know as much about art as I do now so I’ll have to go back and re-draw it. 

❄️ Characters I like seeing them interact with:

Ragna for sure. We could have had so much when it came to their dynamic. I desperately wanted to see them have a satisfying character arc where maybe they don’t necessarily ever become close again but they can tolerate each other at family gatherings and have occasional fun being belligerent towards each other. We should have been allowed to have a dynamic where Ragna smokes a cigarette because it’s just one of those days and Jin takes it and puts it out on Ragna’s hand. Their dynamic would be so much better if it moved to being built around Jin pestering Ragna in non violent ways and Ragna getting got by his shit every time. Either that or go straight for the tragedy but don’t leave us in the middle with no closure.

❄️ Last thing before sleeping headcanons:

Jin wears an ungodly amount of makeup every day. Because of this, that means that he has to spend a total of 30 or more minutes washing foundation off of his face and wiping off eyeliner with make up wipes. Sometimes his eyes get red from the sheer amount of times he has to wipe stuff off of his eyelids. Ragna once said he looked like a melted Madame Tussaud wax figure and the rest of his night was spent evading Jin running around the house with a knife. He’s also very obsessed with skin care and once had to begrudgingly lecture Kagura about what a pore strip was because Kagura found it in the trash once and didn’t know what it was.

❄️ Sleeping habits headcanons:

Jin sits sleeping upright with a weighted blanket because if he didn’t he’d be sleepwalking the way he did when he was a kid. He still remembers the days when he would end up knee deep in the creek by the church with Ragna worriedly shaking his shoulders yelling at him to wake up. Jin did however, forget his routine once and ended up just outside of Torifune’s borders with military personnel prying open his eyelids. Jin also sleep talks and his eyes flicker when he’s in deep sleep which has worried more people than he cares to admit.

❄️ First thing after waking up headcanons:

Jin primarily wakes up to his own nightmares. As a result, he’s grown intimately familiar with the early hours of the morning. He usually starts his day by making some tea and then putting on an insufferable amount of makeup because he can’t stand looking at his bare face in the mirror. 

❄️ Favorite locations headcanons:

Jin likes anywhere quiet. It’s why he used to like the library when he was at the military academy. People always thought that was why he was a good student but he mainly just went there to feel at peace. He hates loud noises and crowds more than he can express (autism gang rise up). 

[nunorism]

Professor Kujo’s Assistant - Jotaro Kujo x [Fem] Reader (LEMON) 18+

Jotaro Kujo always has been known for being a rather secluded individual. He was never one for lengthy monologues on one’s philosophies or emotional matters; choosing rather to let his silence play the part of words for him. There was something so utterly attractive about that in him. The day the first year of Professor Kujo’s marine biology college courses began, you had been tasked to be his assistant. Grading papers, answering questions, and most importantly: making life a little easier for Jotaro. That year you managed to fall head over heels for the man. He was aloof, mysterious and wordlessly charming. All of that made you smile to yourself just thinking about it.

Two short years later, one fateful evening would spell out the rest of your future with him. After class you sat beside him at the desk toward the bottom of the lecture hall; dulling out graded paper one after another until- he sparked a conversation up out of the blue. Something about him that night was divergent in comparison to his cut-and-dried mannerisms. He stuttered, jaw working wordlessly at one point until finally he asked such a forward question that you had to double-take. “Will you marry me?” You felt your heart pulse with life. A fire within you that sparked from attraction of the man of your dreams grew more powerful by the second. It took only a moment for you to say yes.

Months into the marriage you learned just how much of a blessing this life truly was. Living and loving someone who you had always inwardly and outwardly looked up to. It was heaven. Throughout the years of you coming to know Jotaro, you picked up some rather savory mannerisms that he developed. More often than not, his stress from teaching would become too much to bear; his outlet for things like that was put on you. Not in a negative way, however. He never rose his voice at you. Not once- instead he’d lead you into the bedroom and order you to strip while he lit a cigarette and sat on the end of the bed, legs spread. You didn’t hate it- at all.

Another long night goes by. Jotaro had been back at the school for almost fourteen hours today. Whilst leaning over the stove, a pot of chicken noodle soup bubbling tepidly in front of you, you check the time. Dinner was late, sure- but Jotaro needed to eat something when he came home. Whenever that was... 11 pm. Jeez, he never works this late. There must be a big project due. You thought to yourself, worriedly biting your lip as you stirred the pot of food on the stove. You always waited for him to come home, no matter the occasion. Eating dinner with him was an opportunity to catch up like old friends. He was open with you, peppering you with kisses upon greeting him at the door. You smiled sheepishly remembering those lips of his, turning off the burner. Tiredly, you scooped up some of the warm soup into two bowls and made the table.

You sat across from an empty chair, soup sat in front of it like you were feeding a ghost. You stirred the food in your bowl, uncomfortably shifting in your seat as the clock ticked tirelessly, teasing you. Just then- the lock to the front door clicked open without a second thought, prying you from thoughts of longing. You got to your feet, quickly rushing over to the doorway and peering up at Jotaro as he closed the door quietly behind himself. In his hand was his massive white overcoat, brim of his hat tipped over his eyes per usual. “Welcome home,” You pressed your hand up to his chest, standing on your toes just to place a kiss on his cheek. His hand aimlessly snaked it’s way around your waist as he gingerly placed a kiss on your lips with a grumble. “You’re home awfully late. Did something come up?” He set his keys down and strolled into the dining room without an answer.

You felt goosebumps dapple your skin in response to his out of the ordinary behavior. You followed suit- strolling into the dining room to find him not there. “Jotaro..?” You called out worriedly. Something must’ve happened. You couldn’t help but worry. Would it be too much to press? Perhaps you should just give him a little bit of space. “I’m cleaning up dinner if you’re going to bed!” You shouted out, placing your hand on the rim of the bowl. Before you could even think to pick it up a shadow loomed over the table and nearly spooked you out of your skin. Turning around you faced Jotaro, suddenly feeling the mood shift entirely. His hat was gone- his black wavy hair draped over his forehead in a manner that made your heart skip a beat.

Sudden heat began to stir in your cheeks- So, it was that kind of night, huh? “Wait for me in the bedroom.” His tone was entirely telling. He reached over you, grabbing both bowls and taking care of the dishes as you skipped off into the bedroom. You tossed off your apron and patiently sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed patiently. Your eyes drifted to what was beside you. A box of camel cigarettes and a lighter- you felt a smile begin to tug at your lips. Suddenly, the door to the bedroom closed with a near silent click. You knew what was in store, and excitement riddled you as you awaited his instruction. “It’s been a long day.” His words were quiet and monotone, yet I could sense the exhaustion in his eyes. You rise to your feet again, strolling up to him and wrapping your hands around his waist.

He peered down at you, hands finding their way onto your ass, squeezing it lightly with a hum of amusement. You lifted yourself onto your toes again, meeting him halfway to place a passionate kiss on his lips. Closing your eyes for just a moment to make it last a little longer. He was the first to pull away, slowly making his way over to the end of the bed. He lifted a cigarette to his lips, lighting it with a quick single spark of the lighter. He tossed the lighter aside, hands sneakily making their way to his pelvis to undo those pesky belts. “Get undressed for me.” His words were so soft and deliberate you almost didn’t catch them, but immediately you obeyed. You waited for him to take a seat down before getting started. 

He stared calmly at you, pulling his nicotine-stick away from his lips for just a moment to blow a plume of smoke illuminated briefly by the light your way. Your hands gently fell to the hem of your bottoms, slowly but surely rolling them down your legs and gently tossing them aside. You cautiously and playfully caught a glint of Jotaro enjoying the show thus far, a bout of confidence lit the flame of tenacity burning ever brighter. Your fingertips trailed up your belly, tentatively running along the lower hem of your shirt. Exaggeratedly, you drew it up and over your chin before throwing it to the ground. The cold air braced your skin. Delicate, and deliberately, you drew your arms behind you- slowly but surely tugging at the back of your bra. A smirk would tug playfully at your lips as you caught a glint of intrigue in Jotaro’s gorgeous eyes.

One hand found itself on his crotch, gripping the ever-growing erection that made itself painfully aware in his ivory pants. You swallowed a devilish chuckle, finally unclasping your bra and letting it fall naturally to your feet- exposing your breasts. It wasn’t the first time he’s seen your bare chest, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last. You could tell Jotaro’s patience was beginning to wear thin. His free hand dug achingly into the sheets. You knew he yearned for you to be closer; he needed you as much as you needed him right now. You calmly blinked up at him, fluttering your eyelashes in a way that gave him the hint you were concocting some sort of plan. Before you began to strip yourself free of your underwear, you calmly made yourself over to him.

Your hands found their way around his neck, stretching one leg over the other before you had comfortably straddled him. Biting down on your lip you grind your hips teasingly against his crotch, rousing a growl out of him. He quickly lifted the cigarette from his lips, squishing it in his fingers and extinguishing what little flame it had left, surprising you slightly. He flicked the butt aside, hands snaking their way around your hips, grabbing your ass and scooting you closer. He locked lips with you, grinding his hips slowly against yours in return as punishment. You moaned gently into the kiss at the feeling of his stiff dick hidden behind several layers of fabric. You dug your nails desperately into the back of his shirt, silently pleading for him to finally take the lead.

That much he did. With a swift movement he lifted you off of his lap, spinning the both of you around before tossing you onto the bed with a quick movement. You were amazed that he could do something like that so effortlessly, yet as he stripped himself of that black tank top- you reminded yourself of how toned his body had become. You scooted back on the bed, climbing up toward the front to get a good look at him. His defined abdomen and biceps made all the more attractive in the faint illumination of the lamp at your nightstand. God- you wanted him more than anything. He finally yanked his pants down, nothing but a single pair of underwear separating you from him. He climbed up onto the bed beside you, arms resting comfortable at either side of your head as he loomed overhead.

You placed your hand on the back of his neck and forced him into a deep kiss, achingly outstretching your legs to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. He pried his lips from yours, peppering you in kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. You shuddered with every single light kiss he dappled you with, heart thrusting within your chest for him. He made his kisses slowly down to your stomach, finally reaching the hem of your underwear. He snaked one finger beneath the hem, sliding them quickly down and off your legs. The cold air hit your bare skin with a chilling sensation. He leaned in, kissing between your thighs. You stammered, covering your mouth with your hand in a futile attempt to be a bit quieter. You could feel the heat of his breath against your pussy- you were on the brink of begging.

His tongue found it’s way on your sex, immediately eliciting a rather pleasant moan of surprise from you. His large hand rested on your inner thigh while the other tentatively circled your clit. He explored you to his delight, tasting every inch of you that he could access. Your heart punched your chest, delight and ecstasy overwhelming you as he played with you so wonderfully. His free hand left your thigh, leaving a warm imprint of where his large hand was moments ago. His two impressively large fingers teased your pussy as he pulled his glistening lips away from between your thighs, drawing your attention down to him. He was dead silent- yet his eyes were oddly demanding. As if you could subconsciously hear him Say please. “Please.” You whispered, a smirk working it’s way along his lips.

You had not a moment to readjust as he carelessly slipped his fingers inside you. Pleasure overwhelmed you as he fingers you deeply, curling his fingers and getting a good rhythm whilst circling over your clit with his thumb. He knew his way around a woman- that was certain. “Jotaro!” Your hips and legs twitched desperately as release became an ever-present thought. You knew this feeling all too well, and welcomed it. A twisting knot in your stomach would begin to build up. Your breathing became heavier, you fell right over the edge as he planted another delicate kiss on your sex. He pumped his fingers in a couple more times, riding out your high for a few more long seconds before he withdrew. Lifting his fingers up to his mouth and licking you off.

“Fuck-” You whispered, eyes trailing down his thigh to the prominence in his pre-cum stained underwear. You got up for a moment- allowing Jotaro to get in whatever position he liked. He lie down on the bed, resting his head up slightly with his arms. Immediately you knew what kind of ride you were in for. Delightedly, you climbed back onto the bed and gripped the hem of his underwear with inward glee. Pulling them down and off his lengthy limbs to reveal his hard cock. Erect, and shamelessly dripping with precum from your verbal display moments ago. Your eyes cautiously trailed his expression as you moved. Momentarily hovering over him as you prepared yourself for his girth.

Finally getting comfortable on your knees, you lined him up with your entrance- locking eyes with him as you lowered yourself onto his cock. A look of delight contorted your expression as he fought back a fickle moan upon finally being allowed entry. Holy hell did you miss this feeling. The intense heat of his cock entwining with your tightening insides was a feeling so memorable you’d never forget it. Slowly, you lifted yourself up and down- pacing yourself to draw out the pleasure whilst also giving him a bit of a tease. You knew how much it bothered him to be teased- especially like this.

You had to admit, when he got fed up and somewhat hot-headed because of the attention it really turned you on. His eyes darted from you to the action between your thighs every once in a while, his lips parting as he let out a breathy moan whilst throwing his head back. Both of his massive hands comfortably found their place on your ass, taking a bit of control. He made you match his pace, bucking his hips and shamelessly slamming his cock further into you. He hit your sex with such force it caused you to practically melt on top of him. Grabbing his chest and covering your mouth while leaning over slightly. “Cmon baby.” He cursed lowly, egging you on to match his pace- or go quicker for that matter.

You couldn’t resist any longer. You selfishly rocked your hips up and down with a pace slightly quicker than his. His length stretching your tightening walls and showering him in ecstasy that elicited a moan. His deep voice rang in your ears every time he let out a fickle cry of heaven. He finally got into the rhythm, helping by subtly bucking his hips with you. You noticed how with every quick pump of his dick he became more excited- quickening his pace and fucking you harder than you thought possible. It wasn’t long before he looked up at you, biting down on his lip. His face was sweat ridden, and painted with an intense shade of red you only saw in moments like these. You knew he was close- and that thought alone only drove you closer over the edge again.

He slammed his hips into you, and with a loud grunt you could feel his hot cum pour into you. The heat of the moment made you cum again as he gripped your ass, nails digging into your skin as he rode out the same high he gave you moments ago. You crawled off of him, landing on the sheets beside him. It wasn’t long before you realized he’d gotten up. Your eyes trickled over to him, eyeing that familiar birthmark on the back of his neck as he grabbed a towel, tossing it over to you. “Thanks,” You chuckle, placing it under you and sitting up to stretch for a moment whilst catching your breath. He wanders out of the room for a moment, almost immediately coming back in with two glasses of water. He practically chugs the whole thing in a matter of seconds, falling back into the spot he was just moments ago.

You gratefully sip the water and catch your breath, placing it on your nightstand before turning off the light with a small click. Your hand falls comfortably to his chest, and he peers down at you. His fingers quickly cup your chin and force you into a much-needed kiss. It was passionate, and longing. Something you loved about him was the way he treated you after moments like these. You snuggled up to him, breathing in the last traces of expensive cologne that clung to his collarbone. “I love you.” You murmur. From leaning against his chest you can hear his heartbeat quicken, causing you to smile against his skin. “I love you too.” He whispers back, turning over and accepting his fate. Wrapping his arm around you and quietly falling asleep to the sounds of one another’s breathing.

[I hope you enjoyed! This was just a quick one-shot I thought of while eating dinner so I typed it up lol.]

[theseshipsshallsail]

Oliver has developed a particular fondness for dinner drudgery over the past decade. At thirty-four, he felt a greater appreciation for the twinkle in Samuel’s eyes as he lured some unsuspecting academic into a debate he was destined to lose. The all-too-familiar smirk hidden behind a wine glass as Annella caught his gaze mid-rebuttal, the same mischief written over her features as that of her son’s. He even welcomed Mafalda’s regular fretting about his diminuito waistline as she cleared away what little remained of a feast fit for a king.

And then there was the man to his right. The man who held a cigarette in one hand, and his heart in the other. The man who slanted his head on Oliver’s shoulder as the evening wore on, allowing him to drop a kiss to the riotous curls that drew his fingers like a siren’s call. There were no more secrets between the four of them - though according to Annella there had never been any to begin with - and when Elio yawned twice in as many minutes Oliver found his own jaw cracking in sympathy. 

International flights never got any easier, and although they’d managed a short nap on the train in from Milan, they were both flagging fast.

The after-dinner conversation had revolved around his latest manuscript for the past half an hour, and slipping an arm around Elio’s side, Oliver tapped his ankle beneath the table. “You still with me?” he murmured softly, and Elio scoffed as he nestled closer.

“Seulement. One more limoncello and you’ll have to carry me to bed.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Or the last,” Elio said, as Samuel raised a toast in their direction.

“Happiness resides not in possessions or gold, but in the soul. Wouldn’t you agree, our wayward Americano?” he asked, prompting Oliver to back up his argument as he stole the last arancini from Elio’s plate. 

“Big results require big ambitions, Sami.”

“And nothing endures but change.”

“Always with the Heraclitus...” Elio grumbled good-naturedly, leaning over to kiss Annella on the cheek. “Bonne nuit, maman. Remind me to show you that biography in the morning.” 

“The Piaf?” she asked, and Elio nodded as he rose to his feet. 

“There’s a new bookstore just opened in the Village.”

“Che magnifico!” Annella said, stubbing out her cigarette. “Tell me all about it when you’re not falling asleep in your tortelli.” Smiling, she took Elio’s face between her palms. “Dormi bene, piccino. Et toi, Cauboi.”

Oliver laughed as he finished shaking hands with the other two guests - stalwarts of the Bocconi Languages department he vaguely remembered from his brief stint at the university. “I doubt that’ll be a problem. The moment my head hits the pillow I’ll be dead to the world.” 

Elio raised an eyebrow. “The dead don’t snore like Anchise’s old generator,” he said with a wink as Samuel rounded the table to join them. “Papà, siamo stanchi. It’s been a long day.”

“It certainly has,” Samuel said, hugging him tightly. “Go! Go! Don’t make me sprain anything by rolling you out of here.” Stepping back, he clasped Elio by the forearms. “I’ll ask Mafalda to save you something if you sleep through breakfast.”

“Molte grazie.”

“Anytime, figli miei,” Samuel said, embracing Oliver in turn. “Goodnight, the pair of you.” 

“Thanks, Pro.”

Enfolding Elio’s hand in his, Oliver led him towards the villa, taking the time to appreciate the sounds of nature after six months of city living. One day, he’d love to move here permanently - spend his golden years in the country that spurred his reinvention - but there was no rush. Not when the best part of Italy was a permanent fixture in his life, already.

The house was in shadows when they stepped over the threshold, but they each navigated the lofty hallways with ease as they headed upstairs. It was a journey they could do with their eyes closed, and avoiding the creaky top step out of habit they shut the door to Elio’s room behind them with a quiet click. Their room, technically, but in Oliver’s mind it would always be his. He may have usurped it for six weeks in the summer of ‘83, but the overstuffed bookcase and outdated cassette tapes were like a portal to the past, and it never failed to make him feel twenty-four again. 

Conflicting though those feelings might be.

The only obvious difference was the double bed now taking up space along the back wall - though Oliver quite missed the creaky single frames of yesteryear. The shutters were latched apart, letting out the stifling afternoon air, and the bathroom doors were pinned open, turning the space into the large suite that originally befitted Elio’s grandfather.

Toeing off his espadrilles, Oliver watched as Elio fell face first onto the bed. Dramatic as always, he groaned into the crisp, blue sheets, so Oliver hung his shirt up in the wardrobe then walked over to tug off his sneakers, placing them beneath the writing desk where he was unlikely to trip over them come morning. 

“I haven’t been this exhausted since I finished that three week stretch with the Philharmonic,” Elio said, words muffled, and Oliver chuckled as he sat down beside him.

“Fifteen hours by plane, and a ninety minute schlep on the Regionale? I think that’s to be expected.” Reaching over, he stroked a palm up Elio’s spine, bunching his t-shirt in its wake. “You can’t stay young and restless forever.”

“Speak for yourself, old man.” Elio shot him a sideways glance. “Why are you all the way over there?”

Over there, meaning beyond kissing range.

“I thought you were too tired?” Oliver asked, and Elio rolled his eyes like the precocious teenager he’d fallen so hopelessly in love with.

“Too tired for Democritus and his atomic theory,” he said, shifting onto his side. “Never too tired for you, tesoro.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Cradling Elio’s cheek in one hand, Oliver felt a hot lick of satisfaction as he brushed his thumb over the smooth skin, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth, then nibbling gently. A soft whine fell between them, and Elio slung his arms around Oliver’s shoulders, legs banding around his waist like a tether.

“That’s better,” he said, half-hard in his jeans. “Just like old times.”

Oliver sniggered. “Someone better warn the peaches.”

“Connard.”

“And a fine one it is, too,” he teased, swatting Elio’s ass through the stiff denim. 

The resultant yelp was a thing of beauty as Oliver ran his nose along Elio’s collarbone, savouring his scent. Beneath the sour musk of travel were the sweet notes of juniper and cherry laurel, and sucking briefly at his pulse point, Oliver actually felt the yawn building before Elio was forced to pull away, sighing in frustration.

“This isn’t happening, is it?”

“Define this,” Oliver said, licking away his pout. 

They might not be about to set any records for horizontal gymnastics, but the needy whimper Elio pressed to Oliver’s throat was enough to spur him onwards as they quickly rid each other of their clothing. Silver light streamed in through the windows, casting shadows over their naked bodies, and finesse fell by the wayside when Oliver brought their erections together, stroking them both in tandem. Transfixed, he watched the pleasure flick across Elio’s features, treasuring the way his lashes fluttered if he twisted just so - the glazed expression as he kissed him like they had all the time in the world. Leisurely and indulgent.

“I’m going to come,” Elio whispered scant minutes later.

Like it was a secret. 

Like it was something precious. 

And it was, Oliver knew, as the other man rutted into his palm, shuddering against him. It was there in every touch. Every tender endearment. Elio might wear his heart on his sleeve, but none of his previous lovers had been privy to the true depths of his emotions, and as he threw his head back in release Oliver couldn’t help but chase him over the edge, inarticulate and inelegant in his abandon.

Pearly white covered his fist as liquid fire rushed through his veins, each movement growing slower and slower until they eventually ground to a stop, swallowing each other’s gasps between needy pulls of their mouths. Groggy with sensation, his lungs felt constricted by the memory of how to breathe, yet sweaty, sated - and in dire need of a shower - they lay there in the aftermath, neither of them willing to give in as their eyelids started to droop. 

He loved Elio like this. Loved him always of course, but especially like this. With his hair mussed - his face relaxed - his lips swollen as a result of his kisses, and Oliver sighed fondly as he brushed the curls from his forehead, only to receive an incoherent grumble for his efforts. It was his mind he’d fallen in love with first, though. The way he challenged him constantly. Pushed his boundaries day-by-day. Always striving for more. 

He’d been a fool to consider walking away. To give Elio up, however begrudgingly. He was a part of him - perfect in his imperfections - and as Elio drifted off between one blink and the next, Oliver banished such dismal thoughts to the shadows of the past, refusing to give them life when his future lay literally in his arms.

“Goodnight, amore mio,” he whispered, and grinning, hooked his toes in the underwear hanging from the bedpost - his, Elio’s, he couldn’t quite tell - wiped the worst of the mess from their painted stomachs, then followed him into a dreamless stupor.

 Something was tickling Oliver’s nose as he floated in the trance-like state between sleep and reality. It was a familiar experience, and forcing one eye open he smiled down at Elio’s crown where it rested upon his chest. Their legs were entangled beneath the sheets, the toes of Elio’s left foot twitching beside his calf, and Oliver tapped an idle rhythm along his spine as he squinted at the blessedly silent alarm clock. 

It was almost seven a.m, and with zero intentions of moving anytime soon, Oliver watched the dust motes dance in the pink strokes of dawn. He was still foggy, but with his recent promotion and the increased demands of Elio’s tour schedule, moments like these were few and far between in New York, so Oliver indulged himself by listening to Elio’s steady breaths, unwilling to disturb him prematurely. 

The villa was quiet and still as the sun climbed higher in the sky, and when Elio burrowed into his neck, Oliver felt the same dizzy thrill he always had, thanking his lucky stars for the man who’d turned his life upside down in the very best of ways. 

Sappho once wrote what cannot be said will be wept, and this room had seen it’s fair share of tears at the start of their relationship. Even now, it was hard to believe how close he’d come to losing it all. But like Odysseus, Oliver had returned to his love, and he had every intention of seeing this journey through to completion.

“In the crooks of your body, I find my religion,” he whispered, continuing to smooth random patterns over Elio’s trapezius, and it was all he could do not to moan in response as an arm wrapped around his waist, skimming his burgeoning erection.

“Mere air, these words, but delicious to hear...”

Verbal and cognizant was more than Oliver would usually expect before Elio’s first cup of coffee, but taking a chance, he tilted his face up to see him properly. “Morning, sunshine. I thought you were asleep.” 

Elio yawned into the hand at his jaw. “Not with you scribbling Ancient Greek on my ribcage.”

“You caught that?”

“Ovviamente.” Humming, he dug his chin into Oliver’s sternum. “It felt like you were writing your name at first, but then you drew the symbol for pi, and I figured you were just hungry.”

Oliver snickered. “Did you not notice Mafalda’s continued attempts to fatten me up? Maybe I should tell her it’s your hip bones that leave bruises, instead.”

“You love it.”

“More than she’ll ever know,” he conceded, mourning the loss of skin on skin as he eased out from underneath him. “Alright, genius. Since you’re so good at this...” Pushing the covers out of the way, Oliver traced a treble clef from the middle of Elio’s back to his sacrum, finishing it off with a flourish. “What was that?”

Elio smacked his lips. “Too easy,” he murmured into his folded arms. “And a bit crooked. My old music tutor would plotz.”

“Brat.” Oliver smirked as he knelt between his thighs. “Are you challenging my artistry?”

“Might be.”

“Might be, he says.” Chuckling, he ran his thumb up from Elio’s tailbone, sure and certain. “How about my penmanship, then? What letter?”

A pink flush spread over Elio’s cheek. “D,” he decided, squirming slightly as Oliver’s huff stirred the loose curls beside his ear.

“How on earth do you confuse a P with a D?”

“Have you seen the state of your handwriting?” Elio protested, constantly offended by his messy scrawl. “Aren’t you professor types meant to set an example?” 

Oliver scoffed. ”Perish the thought,” he said, dropping a lingering kiss to his nape. Elio’s cock lay flushed with need, and though he had no intention of bringing him off quite yet, Oliver couldn’t resist brushing his palm over the underside. “Indulge me,” he continued, stroking from root to tip. “Let’s play a game.”

“What sort of game?”

“An easy one, apparently.” Fighting his own arousal, Oliver followed the thick vein up then back, tugging gently on Elio’s balls. “But guess right, and I promise I’ll take care of this for you when I’m done. How’s that for an example?”

“Your generosity knows no bounds...”

“Ready?”

“Che diavolo!” Elio turned towards him, and Oliver felt breathless as he looked him square in the eye. “Tell me you’re joking?”

“Just a little longer,” he promised, propping himself on one arm to walk his fingers over Elio’s scapula, leaving a thin trail of slickness when he curved it round to his lower back. “Letter?”

Elio settled down with a put-upon sigh. “An S?” 

“Correct.” Oliver pressed a fingertip to the freckle on his hip. “Next one,” he said, drawing a diagonal line up to his top vertebrae, then sweeping down to its twin. 

“A?” Elio asked, then went rigid as Oliver poked him between his ribs. “Smetilla! That tickles!”

“It’s supposed to.”

“Why?” Laughing, he batted him away. “Did I get it wrong?”

“Not at all,” Oliver said, splaying a proprietary hand over his right buttock. “But next time, let me finish first, yeah?”

“Never heard you say that before.”

“Don’t be jealous of my stamina, Perlman.”

“Stronzo.” Elio arched into his touch. “Another.”

“Eager, are we?”

Elio snorted into his forearm. “Eager. Horny. Non vedo differenza.”

“Fair enough.” Oliver angled his thumb and forefinger towards Elio’s spine, fluid and precise. “This one’s harder,” he said, pinching them together.

“V?” Elio asked before he could go any further, and Oliver tutted as he began a downwards line towards his tailbone.

“Au contraire, mon chéri,” he said with a playful growl. “Not till I’m finished, remember?”

It was the work of a moment to complete the action, and Elio shivered as he glanced back at him through heavy lashes. “Y,” he muttered, shoulders hitching with a snigger. “A few inches can make all the difference, sì?”

Oliver smiled. “So I’ve been told,” he said, the slight breeze from the window lifting the hair from his forehead. “And what can we derive from that?” 

Elio had a specific weakness for his public speaking voice. One which Oliver wasn’t above exploiting at every opportunity. 

“Fuck…”

“Nope.”

Slender fingers circled his wrist as Elio cursed him out in several languages. 

“Spell it for me,” Oliver encouraged, turning his lips to the salt-gleam dimple above his ass, before remembering to narrow it down. “In English, per favore.”

“S-A-Y,” Elio answered obediently, already sounding flustered. “Say.”

“And you thought you’d never complete your Masters…”

“Attaccati a sto cazzo.”

“Rude.” Oliver licked a stripe across his earlobe. “Be a good boy, and I’ll cling to yours, though.”

“Santo Cielo…” Elio huffed in annoyance. “I really hate you right now.”

“No you don’t.” Oliver snuck an apologetic kiss to his temple. “Not even a little bit,” he told him, copying the exact same pattern from earlier. “Second word, if you please.”

“Another Y?”

“Another Y,” he confirmed, watching as Elio clutched the pillow in a white-knuckled grip. 

He remained perfectly still, however, so Oliver drew a deliberate line along his left flank before placing the pad of his thumb back at the beginning, then dragging it to the right. Once more, from the middle, then again from the bottom, and Elio was almost panting when he finally stopped.

“E,” he whispered, causing Oliver’s heart to skip a beat.

Because this was it. 

No turning back.

There was an urgent pressure in his throat, and when he tried to swallow it down, the emotions damn near choked him. “Last one,” he muttered, snaking his index finger in another winding curve, and Elio waited until he lifted it away completely before answering.

“That’s an S,” he said, then paused to string all three letters together. “Yes?” Freeing his wrist, Elio rolled over to face him. “Say yes?” he asked, sleep-rumpled and adorably confused, so Oliver hummed something vaguely agreeable as he mouthed at his jawline, needing the rough scratch of stubble to ground him. “I don’t understand.” Brows knit, Elio pushed up on his elbows. “Say yes to what? What is it that you want?”

Oliver had spent weeks trying to find the right words, but ultimately, only three would suffice. 

“To marry you,” he said, light-headed - and slightly concerned he was about to vomit. He hadn’t felt this terrified since he’d knocked on the adjoining door nine years ago, nothing but a broken heart and the vain hope of forgiveness to his name. “A piece of paper won’t change anything. I know that. But I told you once - out on that very balcony - that I loved you. All of you. Body, mind, and everything in between. You make me happier than I ever thought possible, Elio. This… you… you’re it for me.”

“Cuore mio…” Elio released a plaintive sigh. “I love you, too,” he whispered, taking Oliver’s cheeks in his hands as he sat up against the headboard. “But the courts... you know they won’t recognise -”

“Legally, no,” Oliver agreed, shifting to his knees. “Not yet. But we can do this our own way. Have a ceremony for us alone.”

“Not alone,” Elio corrected absently, hooking his heels behind him. “Together.” His lips pressed into a firm line, and the seconds in which he blinked back at him were the longest of Oliver’s existence. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” he asked, and instead of answering, Oliver reached for the small box he’d hidden in the bedside cabinet upon their arrival. 

“Open it?” he asked nervously, and Elio made a sound that was almost a laugh, high-pitched and fluttering.

“Only you...” he said, and if it weren’t for the tell-tale crack in his voice, Oliver might be worried. “Only you would wait until I’m jet-lagged and sporting a semi to ask me the second most important question of my life.”

“Just a semi?” Oliver slid a palm to the crease of his thigh. “Hang on. Second? What was the first?” he asked, and Elio smiled as he gently butted against him. 

“Does this make you happy?”

“Oh...” 

Elio held his gaze. “So important you asked me twice, in fact.”

“I did, didn’t I?” No doubt there would be a third time, too. He’d always admired the sight of Elio in a tux - slightly more so than the sight of him out of one - and Oliver resolved there and then to fit it into his vows. “Still, that was before your rejection of all things cliché. How’s a man supposed to plan a proposal around that?”

“Quelle question!”

“Such high maintenance,” Oliver murmured, tipping his chin. “But I wouldn’t change you for the world.”

It was a struggle to kiss whilst grinning inanely, but they gave it a good try nonetheless.

“Are you going to open this or what?” Oliver asked, bracing himself as Elio cracked upon the box to reveal the antique gold and onyx band.

“That’s my grandfather’s ring,” he whispered softly.

“It is.” Giddy, Oliver watched the sunlight glint off the heirloom’s polished surface. “Sami wanted you to have it. He’s had it cleaned and resized for the occasion.”

“My father?” Elio raised an eyebrow. “Plotting again, were you?”

“Not as such,” Oliver said, remembering the two word inscription on the inside. “I couldn’t care less about government approval, but I needed to know we have it from those whose opinion I actually value.” His heart tripped over itself as he chuckled apprehensively. “I think your mother’s already chosen a hat,” he confessed, and Elio groaned. 

“She’s going to invite everyone we’ve ever met.”

“She’ll not be inviting anyone if you don’t say yes,” Oliver teased, and the look he received could cut glass. 

“Idiota.” 

“Charming.”

“In what possible scenario would I ever say no to you?” Elio asked, reeling him in by the Star of David around his neck. “You’re a part of me. You are me.” Leaning in, he nuzzled into his hairline. “Oliver… you’re the best person I’ve ever met. Credimi. You’ve always been my forever.”

“Cor cordium.”

“Yes.”

“I can’t even -” Oliver froze. “Wait. Did you just -”

“Yes,” Elio repeated, eyes bright. “Yes, Oliver!”

It didn’t matter that his own vision was blurred. That the full extent of his vulnerabilities were on display. That Elio saw just how lost in him he truly was. Relief purged his body, sparks detonated across his skin, and Oliver made a chorus of his name as he freed the ring from its velvet cushion. It was cool to the touch when he picked it up - the weight of it heavy with promise - yet with unsteady fingers he slid it onto Elio’s left hand, sealing his declaration with a heartfelt kiss to his knuckles. 

“Please tell me these are happy tears,” Oliver whispered, pulling him into his arms.

“Why? Afraid I’ll get a nosebleed?” 

“Way to spoil the mood, Casanova…”

“The sweetest pleasures are those which are hardest to be won,” Elio quoted, studying the black inlay almost reverentially. 

Oliver studied him instead. “You like it?”

“È perfetto.” Elio sniffed as he ducked his head. “I want to get you one, too. If you’ll wear it.”

“Wear it?” Oliver’s lungs were far too tight, but at least that meant he wasn’t dreaming. “Why would I ever take it off?”

“And change my name. Officially, this time.”

His smile was so wide it hurt his cheeks. “Anything you want, sweetheart,” Oliver said, clutching Elio close, pressing his face into the hollow of his shoulder. This was their life, chosen and built together. Theirs to have, now and for always. “As long as I can call you mine… anything at all.” 

[anonniemousefics]

Some jesper and kaz fics pleaseee

I’m so sorry this has taken me foreeeever to get to you! I hope this scratches the itch. :)

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Between You And Me

Fandom: Six of Crows | Jesper + Kaz

Rating: Teen and Up

Words: 3236

Jesper’s feet pounded the cobblestones, his labored breathing filling his head. He was sweating bullets beneath the dead weight slung over his shoulder – his collar and his pits were already soaked through. It was embarrassing how a few months of pencil-pushing at university had hacked away at his endurance. He was going to have to make up for that if he was going to keep pulling off these jobs for Kaz Brekker.

If Kaz Brekker was going to survive the night.

Jesper shook the thought out of his head and adjusted the limp body over his shoulder. He was going to pretend it was a sack of potatoes or a too-full school bag and not a 16-year-old boy’s body maybe bleeding out all over him.

His lungs were burning. He just needed to get Kaz back to The Slat. Haskell would have men there who would know what to do. Probably.

He felt like his knees were going to give out. How had this gone so horribly wrong? It was supposed to have been a simple drop – a brief exchange of kruge for information. Kaz had even not pulled the Wraith off her current assignment – he’d only brought Jesper for back-up. It was not supposed to have turned into a brawl.

“No dice, kid.” In his mind’s eye, Jesper could still see the cruel, yellowing smile of the turncoat Blacktip, his teeth grinning around the stub of a cigarette. “My price is much steeper if it’s intel on Rollins you’re after.”

“We had a deal.” Kaz’s rasp had been like flint on tinder. Jesper’s fingers had lingered at the pistol on his hip.

The Blacktip had laughed. Jesper could have warned him how terribly thin the ice was on which he now stood.

“A deal?” The Blacktip barked. “What are you, twelve? Something tells me this isn’t exactly going down with Haskell’s knowledge. If you’re wanting to make deals like men, start putting up real money.”

Kaz had cocked his head to the side. Just considering the man from his beat up bowler hat down to his scuffed, patent-leather shoes. Jesper had seen feral barn cats do the same thing before they played with their kill. He’d waited, breathless, for Kaz’s orders.

They never came.

Before either of them had moved, they were suddenly surrounded on all sides by Blacktips. Rough hands seized at their arms, at the napes of their coats. And the cruel, yellowing smile in front of them spread.

“Haskell doesn’t know you’re here, does he?” the gangster had cackled. “How much do you think he’ll pay to have you back?”

Jesper wasn’t going to wait to find out. (He knew the truth – Haskell wouldn’t be interested in paying until the Blacktips started removing appendages.)

He’d acted without thinking. Rammed his heel into a set of shins. Slammed his elbow deep into someone’s gut. Grabbed for his pistols and swirled.

Kaz was wielding his cane, its crow’s head hefty like a hammer, smashing into skulls. Jesper fired off a warning shot. No one backed down. He took aim again.

Gunpowder. The glint of a knife. Echoes of shouts through the alley. There was a blur of fists and blood, and several minutes later, a circle of bodies lay around them. And then there was only Jesper and Kaz, back to back, weapons still drawn and breathing hard.

Jesper had had only a moment of relief before Kaz stumbled forward and dropped to a knee.

And he was pressing a hand hard against a stab wound to his torso. In the lamplight, Jesper could see the black wool of his coat growing wet around his leather glove.

“What do I do?” Jesper had caught him by the shoulders before he could fall. “What do I do?” For a moment, Kaz’s dark brown eyes went wide, his brows pulled up, and to Jesper, he looked -- scared? And that was more horrifying than anything that had happened yet.

“Get,” Kaz had breathed, “your hands – off – m--”

And then he’d fainted.

This is fine. This happens. This is fine. This happens. Jesper was trying not to panic.

He just needed to get him back to The Slat. Haskell could do something. Haskell would do something. This was Kaz, his lieutenant, his right hand. He wouldn’t stand for this.

His legs felt like jelly. He just had to make it back to The—

“Jes…” Over his right ear, Jesper heard Kaz’s raspy croak, and what his heart did at the sound almost took him down. It was like someone had reached into his chest and given the muscle a hard wrench.

“Almost there, Brekker,” he said. “Hang on.”

“Jes.” Kaz’s words were methodical even then, even while flopping around like the prize catch of the day over a fisherman’s shoulder. “Put. Me. Down.”

Jesper had learned enough about Kaz Brekker by then to know even his contradictory instructions should be considered. So, even though his gut was screaming at him to get this boy home now, he stopped. Drew in some deep breaths, trying to catch his own. Then lowered Kaz to the pavement.

Kaz dropped hard, then inched back so he could prop himself up against the brick wall of the alley. His hand was still pressed to the inside of his coat as his head lolled back, leveling a glare up at Jesper through his disheveled black hair. Jesper was relieved to see he wasn’t looking quite so pale as before.

No one should be that pretty when they’re bleeding out and furious.

“You touch me again,” Kaz sounded winded, “and I will kill you.”

There’d been a time not so long ago Jesper might have believed him. But tonight, he had his fists balled at his waist like it would help him gulp down much-needed air, and still he can’t help but laugh.

“Good luck with that,” he said. “Maybe you should work on being vertical first.”

“Fuck you,” Kaz groaned, closing his eyes with a wince.

“Or, how about – ‘Thank you, Jesper, for saving my ass and for carrying me a thousand miles, especially since I’m weirdly as heavy as a newborn heifer.’”

“A newborn?” Kaz slit his eyes up at him. “Why a newborn? That’s a little emasculating.”

“I don’t know – they’re your words, not mine.”

Kaz huffed a laugh and then promptly groaned again, pressing the hand tighter against himself.

“Inej is going to kill me,” he muttered to himself.

It wasn’t supposed to sting when Kaz talked about girls. (But Kaz never talked about girls. Never looked at girls. Didn’t seem to care at all about girls. Which meant, maybe… maybe…) Jesper sort of wished there was another Blacktip around to spare a knife and stab these stupid thoughts out of his brain.

But then he remembered something else. Something that Blacktip had said.

“Forget Inej,” he said, crossing his arms. “Let’s talk about Haskell. Did he not know you were doing this? Where does he think we are tonight?”

Kaz gave a pained, rueful laugh.

“What does Haskell know would be a shorter conversation,” he rasped. “Haskell doesn’t give a shit about how I conduct my business. So long as I’m bringing him more kruge.”

My business? Jesper frowned. He’d always seen The Dregs as soldiers of Per Haskell. They were fists doing the fighting for old men in the streets. What kind of business could a kid have with a man like Pekka Rollins?

Some days it was like he didn’t know Kaz Brekker at all.

“If Haskell doesn’t know what you’re up to, he can’t protect you,” and Kaz laughed again when Jesper said it, which was even more infuriating. He pushed harder, squatting in front of Kaz to get at eye level. “I thought the whole point of this gang shit was to have each other’s backs. That could have gone very differently just now, and there’d have been no one to come for us--”

“No one is ever coming for us.”

It was starting to rain. Of course it was starting to rain. Jesper blinked back the droplets from his lashes, for the moment stunned by the vehemence in Kaz’s harsh voice. When he glared at Jesper, Kaz almost looked like could start spitting venom.

“I don’t know what you were expecting when you took this job,” he said. “This isn’t some family business where we give each other birthday cakes and presents on holidays. If you fuck up a job, there is no one coming for you.”

For a moment, Jesper let the weight of this wash over him with the rain. If his father only knew how far he’d fallen…

This is just until your debts are paid.

But it was getting harder to tell himself that these days. Kaz Brekker wielded a king-like kind of enigma that was hard to look away from once you got a taste of its power. And these days, Jesper wanted more than just a look, just a taste. He wanted…he wanted…

He closed his eyes, releasing a sigh and whatever he was about to think along with it.

“Brekker,” he said, trying to find the punchline again, “it sounds like you’re admitting that you’ve fucked up this job.”

Kaz rolled his eyes at him.

“No, I definitely meant to get stabbed. That was all part of the grand scheme.” And then he looked away to mutter, “You stupid podge,” and began to shift his body around in what looked to be a sad attempt to stand again.

“You’ve got a real funny way of showing gratitude.” Jesper would offer him a hand in a minute. This was amusing.

“My dearest Jesper,” Kaz said with a sneer, “however will I repay you for getting me stabbed?”

“You are cranky when you’re bleeding!” Jesper observed, suppressing a grin. “Do you want help up or are you just going to roll around like a worm? I’m good with whatever you decide.”

Kaz sighed the heavy sigh of a much older man.

“A hand,” he said, finally.

Jesper clasped his palm to Kaz’s leather glove and, with one hand wedged up under his armpit, hoisted the Bastard of the Barrel to his feet with a groan. Made sure he could remain steady. Made sure he had a decent grip on his cane.

Then they turned their slow, careful steps back to The Slat as the rain fell harder.

“Stop fussing,” Kaz grumbled, batting Jesper back with a glare and an elbow.

Jesper rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. No touching.” He glanced at the boy sidelong, his face grim and determined against the pain. “So, is it like a religious thing or something?”

Kaz looked at him like he was growing tentacles out of his ears.

“What?”

“The only time you’re ever jumpy is if people are going to touch you. Best I can figure that means you’re either a secret nun or someone fucked you up pretty bad. But I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to talk about that, though, so is it a religious thing?”

Kaz gave a grim huff through his nostrils. Shot him a weighted glance out of the corner of his eyes.

“You caught me. I am actually a nun. Out here on the streets, converting all you sinners.”

“And doing a piss-poor job of it, I must tell you.”

“Ah.” Jesper couldn’t tell if Kaz was wincing or waxing poetic. “You’re just making assumptions about which god I worship.”

“A fair point. Hey,” and Jesper made sure to hold out a hand away from Kaz’s body to stop him, “what if I went on ahead and brought back a medik to you? Your wobbles are scaring me.”

“I am not wobbling.” Kaz said the word like it tasted bad.

“You’re wobbling a little. You’re wobbling a lot. Hey, don’t give me that look – it is not my fault you’re wobbling.”

“Stop saying ‘wobble.’ It makes less sense every time you do.”

Jesper had to bite his own lips to will himself to keep from saying wobble one more time. Really, Kaz’s gait seemed a little more firm every time he teased him. If his goading could fuel Kaz all the way back to The Slat, it would be worth every contempt-filled glance. Which, quite frankly, Jesper didn’t hate. Goading Kaz was its own kind of fuel.

You are getting dangerously close to flirting with gang boss, Fahey. Keep your head on straight.

(No part of Jesper had ever been on straight.)

The Slat was only two blocks away now. Kaz was grunting every time he set down his bad leg, and they were both soaked in rain to the skin. It would have been easy, Jesper realized, to just run on ahead. Maybe someone could bring a stretcher. Maybe someone had something for the pain.

It was killing him to see Kaz in pain.

“We should cut across through the next alley,” Kaz was saying, his voice strained. “Go in through the back. Shouldn’t attract attention.”

“Brekker,” said Jesper, wishing there was some way to make a joke out of this, “you need attention. All right? We should be taking the quickest way back.”

“No.” Kaz was shaking his head as he grit his teeth. “Haskell shouldn’t know. Shouldn’t see. No one should see.”

“Kaz--”

“Listen to me.” Kaz turned on him savagely then, feral in the midst of the pain. “I am still in charge here. I am still the one who hired you. And that’s working out well for you, isn’t it? You like the cuts you’re getting? You’re getting them because of me. But I can make no guarantees about your future if I turn up there tonight looking like some lowlife runner got the best of me. There isn’t a gang in Ketterdam that looks kindly on that kind of weakness. Are you following me? What happened tonight stays between you and me.”

The rain dribbled off the tile roofs, collecting in puddles around their shoes. Jesper wasn’t sure why he was shivering.

“I follow you,” he said.

So, they cut through the alley, darker and deeper into the veins of Ketterdam. Jesper couldn’t think of jokes anymore. Couldn’t think past the painful breathing next to him. That leather gloved hand pressing against blood-soaked wool. Something in him was screaming at him – This wasn’t even the beginning of how dark the Dregs could be.

If your father could see you now…

There was a stoop at the back door of The Slat, underneath a little awning. And that’s where Kaz dropped with a grunt when they’d finally made it. Like he wasn’t going to take one more step.

Jesper huddled beneath the awning, wrapping his arms around himself. The night was darker than any he could remember.

“Can I get Inej at least?” he asked. Kaz was doubled over his gut, one hand in his hair.

“She’s not here,” Kaz replied. “Surveillance at the docks.”

“Right.”

So Jesper slipped into The Slat alone. And returned with a few kitchen supplies he could scrounge up – some rags, some soap, some clean water in a wooden bowl.

Then he sat next to Kaz on the stoop. Brekker was breathing hard through his nose, his jaw clenched tightly. Steeling himself, Jesper realized.

They hadn’t talked at all about what to do once they got to this point. It had been all jokes and snark and light threatening, but now… Jesper was painfully aware of how little he knew Kaz Brekker, really. He’d hired him for jobs, had trusted him with a few gang secrets. But Jesper only knew of Kaz what the bastard wanted him to see – namely, his scary (attractive) face only. (Don’t think about his attractive face, Fahey, what the hell.)

Beside him, Kaz swallowed. Then slowly moved to unbutton his coat.

Jesper stared down at the wooden bowl in his lap, focusing on his own hands.

But Kaz drew in a sharp breath through his teeth, and Jesper couldn’t stop himself from looking over.

Kaz’s white button-down was open wide – blood-red all across the middle. The hard planes of his chest heaved while he peeled back the blood-soaked fabric stuck to his pale skin, his stomach muscles contracting. The stab wound was higher than his navel, off to the far left -- a blackish, thin line, seeping scarlet. It didn’t seem too deep at least – Jesper was trying to focus on that innocuous fact.

“Here.” Without thinking, Jesper had picked up the clean rag. Reached out for the fabric of Kaz’s shirt.

“Don’t--”

“I know, I know. Don’t touch. I got it.”

And, maybe he felt reassured or maybe he was just too tired, but Kaz seemed to relinquish then. He slouched to one side, holding his shirt open, looking away.

And Jesper, gently, softly, cleared away the blood.

There was only the sound of the rain then, and sometimes Kaz’s stifled wincing.

“Sorry,” Jesper would apologize at the sound.

“’S fine.”

And that was all they would say.

Jesper was trying so hard to not touch Kaz’s skin, his own dark fingers started to shake. And that just made him mad at himself – shaking over blood. Shaking over a boy. Jesper clenched his jaw, hard, and tried to think of boring things to distract himself.

But didn’t work. Because there was literally nothing boring when you were around Kaz Brekker. Ever.

You’ve got a serious problem, Fahey – you know that, right?

He had to move to stand in front of Kaz to wrap the bandage around his torso. Kaz lifted his arms a little while Jesper worked and focused his attention on the stones of the stoop, collecting rain. When Jesper did glance at him, his forehead was collecting sweat, the furrows across it deeper than any 16-year-old’s forehead had the right to be.

“Sorry,” again.

“’S fine.”

Nothing about it felt fine. It felt far too real. Far too visceral. It felt like the last time Kaz was ever going to look Jesper in the eyes. It felt like Jesper was never going to be hired again.

It felt like he had something to lose.

When Jesper had finished wrapping the bandage, he stepped back into the rain, unsure of what to do from here. Kaz closed up his coat again, pressing a hand back over the site of the wound.

This would be the telling moment, Jesper realized. Kaz could tell him to get lost. Or thank him. And Kaz Brekker wasn’t known for thanking.

This is going to be over before it even starts…

Kaz sighed one last time. Drew himself up to stand on the stoop, now a few inches taller than Jesper because of it. He looked wan and pained, and Jesper wasn’t sure how to look at him.

“Think you can help me burn this shirt tomorrow?” he asked Jesper.

Jesper breathed out, surprised. Relieved. Tomorrow, he’d said. With that, he’d made up his mind to forget Kaz’s personal business with Pekka Rollins, with whatever strange vendetta had led them to this moment.

Kaz Brekker still wanted to keep him around. That was enough.

“Yeah, sure,” Jesper agreed, with a casual shrug. “Whatever you need.”

Kaz nodded and turned to limp up the steps. But he turned at the door.

“Are you coming or what?” he barked back at Jesper.

Only then did Jesper relax. And smile to himself. And followed him inside.

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Tagging: @loveyatopluto, @raging-bisexual-alert, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @annejulianneh111, @whosanxiety, @addies-invisible-life

[mrsalwayswrite]

Say You’ll Stay - Chapter 7

Fury/Band of Brothers Crossover Fic

We finally meet up with Easy Company!

Tag List: @happyveday​ @alwaysindecemberfeels​ @god-of-dramatic-death-scenes​ @saritanotserena​

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

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

The morning arrived with a slight fog, bringing a sense of otherworldliness with it. As if ghosts stood along the tree line just watching and waiting in complete silence. Everyone moved with shifty feet and wary eyes, voices staying low. The starting of engines only exasperated the stillness around them. It had been decided, with so many men killed and wounded in the company, the whole group would travel to Haguenau. From there the wounded could be evacuated to a hospital and hopefully replacements sent for those lost. 

 Anna wandered around the tanks, checking in with the other medics and just trying to stay warm. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried to keep the wintery cold at bay. A coat taken off a soldier, who no longer needed it, now covered her filthy nurse’s uniform. She tried not to think about wearing a dead man's coat, rather imaging it was a spare. Her legs were still exposed to the elements from the knees down to her short uniform boots, making it impossible to fully warm up as she walked around. 

"Mount up! Let's go!" The call echoed around from several different mouths, stilling the nervous restlessness hanging over the company. 

 The wounded were placed on the tanks to ride since they did not have a truck to transport them anymore. Besides the officers and those in the armored division, all the foot soldiers were forced to continue walking. Not a perfect solution but it was all they afford to do right now. Hopefully they could escape another surprise attack. 

 Ignoring those around her, she made her way towards Fury. Both to keep an eye on the wounded laying or sitting on the tank but to also stick close to the tank's crew. She had woken up that morning, still huddled against Boyd's side, wrapped in Don's leather jacket and the spare blanket from Gordo. They shared what breakfast they could with her before she had to head off and start rounds. Medic Arthur Christianson had taken over lead medic from Joe Hunter. A blow they all felt but this was war and you just learned to keep moving. The two other medics had been courteous enough to her from the beginning so it was not too much of a hardship to work with them. 

 Each medic had chosen a tank to walk next to and keep an eye on its wounded. She had immediately claimed Fury. 

 "Anna!" 

 Looking up, she noticed Boyd staring down at her from his spot on the tank. 

 "What you doin' down there?"

 She glanced around then stared back at him. "Walking." She stated with a casual shrug, not understanding what he was getting at. 

 Grady chuckled from his spot next to Boyd. Smoke curled around his mouth as he exhaled, the cigarette still between his teeth. 

 Boyd rolled his eyes with a deadpan expression. "I see that. Thank you. Why ain't you riding?"

 "Only wounded are riding. I'm fine, Boyd. I don't mind walking." She tried to assure him, a small smile on her face. Hopefully that masked how cold she actually was and the agitated nerves humming throughout her body. She walked a little further towards the front of the tank. Fury only carried five wounded, spread out along its sides. Stopping at a young soldier with a bandage around his head, she touched his leg to gain his attention. "How are you feeling?"

 The brunet opened his eyes, looking down at her from where he reclined on the tank. A shy smile crossed his lips. "My head ain't spinnin' like it was."

 "That's good. Let me know if that changes." Patting his leg, she smiled back at him. The young soldier was one she was particularly concerned about. During the initial explosion, he had been thrown back and landed hard on his head, getting knocked unconscious during the process. Eventually he woke back up but with a bloody head wound. 

 Tucking a few strands of wayward hair behind her ear, she adjusted Joe’s- no, her medic’s satchel across her body. Her heart clenched slightly at the reminder. Her own personal bag had been in the supply truck, now a pile of ash. Her few extra clothing items, her beloved book from home, the few letters she had from her family and friends along with what little money she had been holding onto, all gone. All destroyed in the fire that raged throughout the night as it consumed the supply truck. It hurt more than she thought it would. It was just stuff, but it had helped ground her, remind her of home. Without it, her soul felt slightly adrift. Even as she tried to convince herself it was just stuff, that it was replaceable, that twenty-two men died while she still drew breathe…. she still missed her belongings. 

 "Hey, dollface. Nice legs you got there."

 She pretended to not hear the comment from the lanky soldier sitting on the tank, bandage around his calf. She remembered him. A bullet ricochet hit his calf but he screamed like his guts were being ripped out, then he threatened one of the other medics until he received morphine. 

 "Ah, c'mon, smile. I just gave you a compliment." He called after her, a sleazy smirk on his face. 

 "Hey, shut up." Boyd demanded, having turned to glare at the offending soldier. 

 The arrogant soldier looked over his shoulder at Boyd as if surprised to be called out. "What? Like you can't see them." He snickered, continuing to leer at the nurse. 

 Anna closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Unfortunately, she was used to men like that by now. Even if she hated dealing with them. She had a job to do though. War did not care if the men it wounded were good or bad, kind-hearted or arrogant, gentle or dangerous- it took them all. Her job was to save as many as she could from War's grasp. To allow as many men as she could to return to their families one day. 

 She turned slightly to meet the eyes of the lanky soldier. "Is there something you need, soldier?"

 "Aren't you going to check on me, darling?" He winked at her. 

 In a sudden flurry of movement, Grady roughly shoved the soldier off the tank without preamble. The soldier screamed as he hit the ground, landing on his hurt leg. The sound echoed in the air, bouncing off anything nearby as if to gain momentum in volume. Everyone nearby jumped at the sound, eyes locked on the soldier swearing and rolling on the ground. Anna stared in horror and confusion, a hand over her rapidly beating heart, unsure if she should intervene or stay to the side. Her answer came in the next moment as Grady hopped off the tank to stand between the soldier and Anna. 

 The soldier screamed, grabbing at his leg as he rocked on the ground. "What the fuck was that for?! Christ, I'm wounded, you asshole!" 

 "Yeah, shut the hell up." Grady said, just staring down at the soldier. He turned to look at Anna but never turned his back completely on the soldier. "You good?"

 She nodded mutely, beyond surprised and made quite speechless by Grady's actions. 

 "Coon-Ass! What's going on here?" Don stormed towards them, cigarette hanging from his lips and fire in his eyes. 

 "Nothin', Don. He started talking shit 'bout Anna. I shut him up." Grady shrugged, staring at his commander. A silent understanding seemed to pass between the two. Don gave a curt nod and only after that did he even acknowledge the man on the ground. 

 "You his Sergeant?!" The soldier was yelling, teeth bared like a rabid dog. "He pushed me off the goddamn tank! He can't do that!" 

 "Yeah? Well, sounds like you fucking deserved it." Don pulled the cigarette from his lips, blowing the smoke out. His eyes quickly shifted to Anna to scan her quickly before dropping back down to the soldier. 

 "Cause I complimented the fucking nurse? You know what, fuck you! And fuck the bitch!" 

 Don whipped out his pistol and pointed it at the downed soldier. Every sound ceased. The air froze. No one moved. Tension radiated from the scene. It felt with one wrong move, one wrong sound, Don would shoot. Even the wounded man stared in horror and rage at the pistol aimed at him. Everyone waited to see what Don would do. Anna covered her mouth with her hand, terrified that if she even peeped, Don would shoot the man on accident. When Don spoke next, Anna had never heard him sound so cold, it physically sent shivers down her spine.

 "I highly suggest you shut that big mouth of yours before I put fucking hole in your other leg." 

 If looks could kill, the soldier would have killed the tank commander twice over with the lethal glare he leveled at Don; but he wisely kept his mouth shut. The two stared at each other, almost willing the other to say something and set them both off like ticking time bombs. 

 After several tense moments, Don was the first to rip his gaze away and look over at Anna. Without a word, he beckoned her over with his hand. Worried and a little intimidated, she hurried over to stand between him and Grady. 

 "Anna, up you go now." The tank commander stated, nodding towards Fury, the threatening tone not quite fully leached from his voice yet. 

 "Wha… oh, no, I'm ok, Don. I promise."

 Those intense eyes bored into hers, immediately stopping any further excuses from passing her lips. "I can see you shaking like a leaf from the cold. I won't ask you again."

 "She can take my spot with Bible." Grady said to Don, looking over her head. "Keep her warmer."

 "Good. C'mon then."

 Next thing she knew, she was being manhandled by Don. He lifted her up as if she weighed nothing and set her onto the tank, where Boyd took her hand and slipped her into the gunner's spot with him. Her legs immediately felt marginally warmer as they were no longer bared to the cold elements. 

 Don climbed up to his spot, just on her left. None of the other soldiers, wounded or walking, would meet his gaze as he scanned over those nearby. As if just a shared glance would unleash his terrible ire onto them.  

 "I could have gotten up by myself." She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced over at him. 

 His hands stilled from placing the helmet on his head, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment. "Whatever you say, doll." He winked quickly at her then looked forward, tapping a hand on his comms to speak. "Alright, let's move out."

 After that the tank jerked forward, Boyd had reached over to help keep her upright. Once settled, she tucked her face into her coat; not because of the cold, but in hopes no one would notice the blush on her cheeks. Butterflies danced in her stomach and it took her mentally berating herself to keep the stupid, giddy smile off her face. A simple wink should not have this much of an effect on her. Her mind decided to remind her of how it felt to have his hands on her and how easily he lifted her. That thought made her face heat up even more. 

 To distract herself, she peeked over her shoulder to see Grady sitting just behind her on the tank, watching the tree line with his mouth slightly open. 

 Although she still felt somewhat tense around Grady, he no longer looked at her as if she was a piece of meat to be ogled. She had noticed it the prior night as she joined the Fury crew and fell asleep leaning against Boyd. Followed by his strange actions today, she could not help but wonder what changed… if whatever occurred between him and Don in the French town had more of an effect than she realized. Maybe he was not such a bad man after all? Giving people second chances was something her mother preached and Anna found herself trying to do. Maybe now was a perfect example?

 Those on Fury rode silently for several miles, just watching the surroundings. Her thoughts turned dark, wondering if she should write Joe Hunter's wife. Obviously his wife would receive a condolence letter from the army but maybe it would help if she received a personal letter too from someone who worked with him? Who knew him and how devoted he was to her? Then again, she did not want his wife to misread her letter somehow and think Anna and Joe had an affair and now Anna was writing a letter out of guilt? Would someone do that? Or would they keep quiet about it? Her thoughts bounced around in her mind like ping pong balls, constantly moving but never actually in a helpful way. 

 "Where you from, Anna?"

 "Mmm?" Boyd's sudden question drew her from her inner musings. She lifted her head to look at him from staring at her nails as she picked at them. It took her an embarrassingly long moment of him staring at her with his eyebrows raised for his question to sink it. Heat filled her cheeks but she hoped it was not too noticeable. "Oh, sorry. I grew up in South Carolina but my family moved to Virginia, so that's where we lived the last few years. What about you?"

 He hummed, shifting slightly. "Missouri."

 "I've never been there. Do you miss it?"

 "I reckon. I miss the people there more, ya know?"

 Don cut in, still staring a head. "What he means is, he misses his girl."

 Her eyes widened and her head moved so fast from looking at Don on her left side to staring at Boyd on her right, she almost gave herself whiplash. "You have a sweetheart?"

 "Yeah." He shrugged casually as if it was not a big deal but the small smile on his lips and the light in his eyes betrayed him. 

 "And you haven't told me this?! You were getting on my case about seeing if I had one and this whole time you did!" She smack his chest lightly, making him flinch while Don and Grady laughed. "What's her name?"

 "Sarah Grace." His eyes softened even just saying her name. "Prettiest woman on God's good earth, I swear."

 She smiled at the fondness in his tone. 

 "We was gonna marry but then the war broke out and I felt called to join up. So she's waitin’ for me. When we get back, I'll start seminary and we'll get married."

 "If she's still waiting and not married someone else."

 Boyd narrowed his eyes at the mechanic behind Anna. "Grady, you just tryin' to get me riled up. It won't work. I know she'll wait."

 "Maybe she done run off with someone already." Grady countered, a smirk on his face. 

 "I just received a letter from her last month. You know that."

 "That was last month…"

 "I swear, Grady, if you don't-"

 "Alright, alright. Knock it off." Don said, grinning. It was obvious this was a continuous argument but was born out of teasing than any true malice. Boyd mumbled something under his breath, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 "Well I think it's sweet, Boyd. I'm happy for you." She bumped his shoulder, erasing the scowl on his face. In a split second decision, she looked behind her at Grady. Second chances, she told herself. "Where are you from?"  

 Initially, he seemed startled that she would ask him but quickly hid the surprise with his usual indifference. "California."

 She turned to Don next. "And you?"

 "Kentucky."

 It felt like she had to physically tear her eyes away from his or else she would be trapped in them. There was an intensity in them that balanced on the edge of exhilarating and terrifying. All it took was a small breeze to push him one way or another. So far she had only seen the kind and protective side of him. Now though, after he pulled the gun on the wounded man, she had seen a brutal side. It reminded her of when Norman mentioned about when he first met Don. Now she could see it, what Don had forced Norman to do. It sent a chill down her spine. People were forced to commit terrible crimes all the time during war. Was this side of Don because of war or just something that lurked under the surface continuously? She found herself worried about the answer. 

 Boyd interrupted her thoughts, continuing the conversation. "Gordo there is from Texas. Norman is from Pennsylvania."

 "Y'all are from all over the place." 

 "Yep, all it took was Hitler startin’ a war for us to meet."

 They all chuckled but grew quiet again at the sobering thought. 

 Anna could not help but think about where she would be right now if she had not joined the Nurse Corps. She had hoped to go to college and become a teacher. It was not glamorous but the very thought of it brought a smile to her face. Much to society's chagrin, she wanted more from life than to just marry the first man that came around and start having his babies. But it did not matter now. She was not even on the same continent of her birth. 

 She pushed back the thoughts of before and focused on those around her. The smell of cigarettes from the soldiers surrounding her. The chill in the air that clung to her without reprieve. The sight of what should have been a beautiful forest but set her on edge, expecting another surprise attack. She could not focus on what she was missing out on. War happened. And she answered the call. Even if it had been to get away from her own sins and ruined reputation.  

 *****

 The next afternoon, the company and tanks rolled into Haguenau. Snow dusted everything that had not been trampled yet. The air hung heavy with fatigue and despair. Supposedly the Allies were winning the war, but with the looks on the faces around… you would not suspect that. The sound of a mortar slamming into the ground up ahead made Anna flinch. She could not help but wonder what kind of new hell she had been taken too. 

 "Let's park in the rear. Don't need those Krauts aiming for our tanks." Don said over the comms. 

 When the tanks stopped, everything ground to a halt around them, followed by Captain Evans pulling up in his jeep. "Sergeant Collier! You'll come with me. Let's find out who's running this shit show."

 "Yes, sir!"

 Anna slid off the side of the tank, careful of her cold, bare legs. Instead of riding that day with Boyd, she had instead elected to ride next to a young soldier who had been shot in the shoulder. Tears slipping down his cheeks but the soldier never made a sound. The whole ride she held his hand on his uninjured side. Occasionally, she had to check on the other wounded but she always returned back to the young soldier. He never cried out, just whispered a near silent 'thank you' and held her hand tightly. 

 She could hear the men being told to stay put until further orders were given. Most were used to the routine by now. Stand around until directed where to go next. It was something she was adjusting too. Ignoring those yelling commands around her, she fixed her mangled uniform and coat as much as possible and looked up at her patient/companion. 

 "I'll be right back." She tapped the young soldier's leg before walking away in search of Medic Christianson. 

 She found him talking to one of the other medics, standing near a different tank. "Arthur, what do we do now?" She asked, rubbing her hands together to try and warm them up. Spring and its accompanying warmth could not come soon enough. 

 "We need to find the aid station they have here. Hopefully get the men moved there and transported to a hospital." He said, lighting a cigarette. After a drag, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Right, I'll go. Keep an eye on those around here."

 "I'll come with you." She said probably far too brightly if the looks given to her said anything.  

 His green eyes narrowed at her a moment before he shrugged. "Fine. Let's go."

 She started to follow him, arms wrapped around herself in the large army-issued coat. For a second she wondered if she should tell Boyd where she was going then she dismissed it. He was not her keeper. She was here to do her job. 

 They wandered into the corpse-like city of Haguenau. It looked desolate. A mere illusion of what it had once been before war corrupted its beauty. Bombed buildings, craters in the streets, the staining of blood scattered along the ground and snow. Anna had never seen a place like this before. 

 After receiving directions from a passing Sergeant, they found the building housing the aid station. It was a two-story house that looked semi-stable, but far better than others surrounding it. Which was not a high standard. Anna and Arthur quickly ascended the steps and walked inside, not just to get out of the cold but to avoid the sporadic mortars. 

 "Something you need?" A voice asked them as soon as Arthur closed the door behind them. 

 The two looked over to see a man watching them from a side room. He had short black hair, thin beard, open face and medic badge on his arm. His head was tilted to the side, the cap on his head sliding slightly with the movement.

 "We just arrived with our company and we've got wounded." Arthur said, taking charge and moving another step into the building.  

 "Uh huh." The man eyed them then turned back and called out toward another room. "Hey, Roe!" He looked back at the two by the door, it was obvious the calculations crossing his mind as he prepared his question. "How many wounded?"

 "Eighteen."

 "Shit. What happened?"

 Anna kept back, allowing Arthur to take the lead. The dark-haired medic's eyes flickered towards her occasionally as if wondering what she was doing there but chose not to ask. Rubbing her hands together, a brief smile lifted the corners of her lips. Just being indoors, the permanent chill in her bones receded just enough she did not worry her legs would turn to icicles. It had only been a few days since the company left the small French town but being continuously outdoors, day and night, was something Anna found she disliked fervently. She looked over as she heard footsteps coming around the corner. 

 Arthur was still talking to the dark-haired medic, explaining what happened. "They laid landmines in the road, then when we stopped they fired on us from the surrounding woods. Perfect fucking ambush."

 "Damn Nazis." The medic shook his head. "You hear that, Gene?"

 The one called for came around the corner. He also had dark hair, pale skin and a sharp jawline. His eyes though were dull and a hint of red lingered around his nose like he was getting over a cold. His uniform was clean but even that could not distract from how bone-deep weary he appeared. "I 'eard. We got room upstairs. Won't be an issue."

 She froze, her mind whirling. That voice. She recognized it. Not many medics she had encountered had such a distinct Cajun drawl. Her brain frantically raced trying to remember where she knew it from. 

 "Eugene?" She found herself asking, hesitation in her voice. The man's head whipped over to stare at her. "Eugene Roe?"

 "Yes, ma'am. Have we met?"

 "Yes… I mean." She tucked some loose stands of her hair behind her ear, nervous that he would not remember her. "It…. It was back in Albourne. We did some training together. I'm Anna… Anna Cooper."

 One could watch the light bulb go off in his mind and his eyes light up. "Chérie?" His voice almost held an element of awe to it, that she was here and real. 

 She nodded, feeling tears fill her eyes. There was something in the simple nickname that tugged at her heart's strings. It reminded her of a time before war. Before blood and screams. Before the memories of death were stronger than memories of home. When it would just be the two of them at the aid station in Albourne practicing bandaging one another or swapping stories of their homes when homesickness struck them. 

 He hesitated for a moment before walking towards her. Seeing him move, she practically sprinted to him. They collided in that drafty building in Haguenau and for a moment, both felt like they could feel the sunshine on their faces and a spring rain to cleanse the taint of death from their skin. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. His own arms enclosed around her much smaller frame, surrounding her in warmth. Tears slipped down her cheeks, wetting his ODs. For once, she was not even ashamed. 

 "It's alright, chérie, it's alright."

 She laughed wetly, tipping her head up to look at him. "I can't even tell you how happy I am to see you."

 "I got that impression." 

 "Don't ruin the moment, Gene."

 He chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. "It's good to see ya too." He released her to step back and fully look at her. It was then he seemed to finally noticed her attire, or lack thereof. His eyes narrowed staring at her bare legs and short uniform boots before jumping back up to her face. "How did ya end up here? And what 'appened to ya uniform? Ya must be freezin'."

 "It's a long story...and we ran out of bandages, so…" she shrugged, gesturing to her clothes, self-conscious of her exposed skin. 

 Gene and the other medic shared a look before Gene looked back. "I expect to ‘ear it later, and we'll find ya some spare ODs. Spina, we got any in the new winter lot?"

 "Uh...I think so." The dark-haired medic responded, eyebrows almost touching his forehead. 

 "How many wounded y’all got?" Gene asked Anna.

 "Eighteen."

 "Bring 'em here. We'll make room. Medics?"

 Arthur answered this time, arms crossed over his chest. "Three medics and Nurse Cooper."

 "Good. Know how long y’all stayin'?"

 "No." She peeked over at Arthur, who confirmed her answer with a short nod. "We only just arrived."

 Gene looked over at Arthur. "Careful bringin' 'em here. We'll get space set and some coffee for ya." He peered down at Anna, eyes softening. "Let's get ya some warmer clothes, chérie."

 "I swear you're an angel… a Cajun angel."

 He chuckled, shaking his head. "Whatever ya say." Putting an arm around her shoulders, he guided her towards a different room. 

 And for a moment, she was reminded that one could find joy even in the midst of war. 

 *****

 The tank commander stood in the back of the crumbling, dank room observing the scene before him. He had followed Captain Evans and his two lieutenants to the HQ for the battalion holding Haguenau. Personally, he would rather be back with his men instead of here listening to formal introductions. This battalion did specifically ask for him and his platoon, so he steeled himself to get through this.  

 "I'm Captain Evans of the 103rd Infantry Division. This is Lieutenant Diggs and Lieutenant Cox. Behind them is Staff Sergeant Collier of the Armored Division." The Captain, who was clearly the oldest in the room by at least a decade or two, stood in the middle of what most likely used to be a nice living room, if the damaged chandelier hanging above him said anything. Now the place looked somewhere between trashed and abandoned. His two lieutenants stood just behind him as the introductions took place. "I'll get to the damn point, eh? We were blitz attacked on our way here, lost twenty-two men and another eighteen wounded. Fucking Krauts. I'm requesting permission to regroup and have our wounded taken care of before we move out."

 The red-head with the Captain's bars on his jacket nodded quickly, granting permission before Captain Evans even finished asking. "Of course. We don't have a lot to spare but we will what we can." He reached his hand out to shake hands with the grizzled captain. "I'm Captain Winters of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airbourne."

 "Paratroopers, eh?" The older man eyed the other captain after shaking hands.  "Heard you are some mean bastards. Nice to see the reputation isn't wrong for once."

 "Just doing our jobs."

 "Right. We'll get outta here, eh? Thank you again, Captain."

 "Sure." Captain Winters stated kindly but still with a hint of a guarded tone. "You need anything, ask for myself or Lieutenant Speirs of Easy Company."

 With a final nod, Captain Evans and his two lieutenants walked out. A strange silence fell over those in the room after the door slammed shut behind the Infantrymen. Don suddenly felt like he was back in the elementary school yard and was waiting to get picked for a team. Thankfully the silence did not last long. 

 "Armored Division? Are you our supposed tanks?" A dark-haired man asked, sitting propped up in a corner, flask openly in hand. This was his first time speaking, instead having just watched the prior introductions with a cocky grin.

 Don eyed him, noting the Captain bars on his uniform. "Yes, sir. 2nd Armored Division or what's left of it."

 Captain Winters stepped forward to shake Don's hand. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

 "Yeah, could have used you two months ago. Hell, even a month ago could have saved lives." The other Captain muttered then took a sip from his flask. Don tensed but then noticed the unnamed Captain's aggression seemed more directed at whatever happened two months ago versus Don himself. 

 The red-head looked over his shoulder. "Nix…"

 "Yeah, yeah, I know."

 Winters looked back at Don. "How many tanks do you have?"

 "Four, sir."

 "Good...good. There is talk of some smaller towns nearby we will need you for, to provide assistance with liberating and securing. Until we know for sure, your men find somewhere to stay. As of now, you are under my direct command, understand?"

 "Yes, sir."

 "That'll be all, Sergeant Collier."

 Don gave a quick salute and headed back out into the bombed out town. As he walked back towards the tanks, he thought about the man whose command he was now under. Captain Winters. There was a calculating intelligence in his eyes, not in a malicious way, but more as a chess master. When he asked Don about the number of tanks, it was apparent his mind immediately took the information and began processing how best to utilize them. Don also noticed how when a mortar landed particularly close to the building, making the few pictures left on the walls shake, neither the red-headed Captain nor the dark-haired one flinched. At all. The tank commander was unsure fully what to make of the other Captain- this Nix- but he approved so far of what he has seen in Captain Winters. He was a man obviously in control with his authority but was not so far up in the clouds he forgot about his foot soldiers. A rare trait amongst Regiment in Don's opinion. 

 By the time Don arrived back, it seemed most of the infantrymen had dispersed into the city leaving the tanks and their crews waiting for him. He hoped they could find a decent building to claim without resorting to violence. At this point, he was not above punching a few Privates to make sure his crew got a good roof over their heads. 

 "What's the orders?" Binkowski asked, eyeing the city warily. 

 Don sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before answering. "Under a Captain Winters now. Said to stay put until orders are confirmed but sounds like we'll help secure some towns nearby."

 "Heard they're paratroopers." Davis said. He leaned against his tank, lighting up a cigarette. 

 "Yep." The sound of a mortar went off nearby. Don watched Norman startle out of the corner of his eye then rub his nose on his sleeve. He made a mental note to check on the kid once they got settled.

 "Paratroopers?" One of Davis' crew muttered, standing just off to the side. 

 "The idiots that volunteered to jump out of planes." Binkowski answered with a snort and shake of his blond head. 

 "On purpose?" The crew member's eyes widened. Don tried to remember the man's name. Kohl… Colbert… Coulson… something like that. 

 Gordo said, sitting on top of Fury. "Heard they are some real sonsofbitches."

 Don smirked. "Guess we'll find out. Let's find somewhere to claim before all the houses are filled up."

 The men began to move, ready to find somewhere to bunk down. Don surveyed around once more, wondering what awaited them in this hell hole.

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Alright, what did y’all think of Easy’s introductions? Lemme know what you think!