#i hope hes not reading this in case i ask to meet him again sometime. for business.
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dont remember if i ever was this angry at anyone before
#keep thinking abt [redacted]#wack. tbh#like embarrassing idgaf abt this guy why is he still on my mind.#this is some ego feeding shit like its cool to hate and be angry or something?#its just that i think he should be corrected. but the system is not in agreement on this.#guy was like my best friend for a couple months never even asked abt the system lol n theyr like looking out for him#or i guess mby theyre looking out for me/us. so as to not go to jail/be haunted by our choices our whole lives.#whatever#i know how to make it stop it is just taking time and effort. because its like 1. kind of addictive so i keep accidentaly/habitually reinfo#cing it and 2. the other option is to face that im hurt and i cant do shit about it realy other than ... LeArN from it or some shit#like learn what? i already went full schizoid over this.#maybe i dont need to learn shit lol maybe i already did it :)#so just the pain then. and overcoming the hate habit. and like just letting it go and forgetting abt it#but the thing is that he needs to die i think.#i want to kill kill kill kill him so bad.#i hope hes not reading this in case i ask to meet him again sometime. for business.#maybe thats why its still on my mind#because im unwilling to let go of the idea that we could help eachother if i wasnt so stupid hurt over some little thing (the nasty shit he#pulled that hurt me lol) like bro. bro. im not going to just get over it. like thts rly the thing. 3-5 yrs ago i would have totally just#elected to get over it and make up or smth like that.#and im v unwilling to do that now while lots of my brain architecture is still built for that interaction style.#so when im thinking kill kill kill kill im going to [redacted as fuck im not putting that shit online this is already bad enough] mby im#actually killing the mental structures that make me a target for abuse :)))))))))#all is good in the world i love myself and my life. and absolutely no one else. except my mom and my friends and that one other guy who als#might read my blog but i really doubt it bc he doesnt evenrly ask me how im doing or anything . its cool though. for now.
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What's Spidys relationship like with the other NY bound heros?
Got a bunch of other hero asks so it's time for Ye Olde Lore Dump!
Johnny and H!Spiderman have never gotten along- in either universe.
They don't even really have any real beef with each other, they're just two dudes who grate on each other's nerves for no particular reason- like two guys at a frat party who are just waiting for an excuse to duke it out.
There's just something about Johnny's playboy easy-come-and-go vibe that makes Spidey want to plant a fist in his face. And Johnny thinks Spiderman is a fucking buzzkill.
Black Widow and Spiderman have a good working relationship. He once helped her out of a tight spot in New York and he was fast, smart and discreet about it- so when she's got some ops she needs a second pair of hands for (under the table), she calls him.
Spiderman admires Nat's competence and single-minded focus in getting things done- they all appeal to the hunter in him. (And he's got a massive crush on her.)
They usually do one or two jobs every few months, and meet up for drinks at one of her safehouses. She's also knows his secret identity, because she's just that scary.
Logan and Peter are BFFs. For real. Logan was in town to help with some shit that ended up involving Deadpool and found himself at St. Margaret's.
He and Peter struck up a friendship that ends up with them going camping every couple of months for a week or so.
Logan likes Peter's no-bullshit sincerity and can tell he's had some shit(TM) go down in his life. Peter's easy to talk to and is good at reading the room. And Peter feels like Logan fills in that space Marko left as a friend/mentor/gruff bro figure.
Logan actually picks up when Peter calls. (most others he leaves on read).
Fun fact, he has no idea Peter is Spiderman.
And another fun fact, it's not Johnny Deadpool is jealous of, it's Logan.
Peter has a very complicated relationship with the Avengers.
On one hand, he knows what they do and what they stand for- on the other hand, he's got a real problem with authority figures. He's been invited to the Avengers multiple times, in both realities.
The answer is always blanket N.O. (And, depending on whether it's stark asking, accompanied by a giant middle finger). (Though he's reluctantly agreed to have an avenger's phone in case there are any massive threats they need help with).
As for the members:
Stark gets on his nerves like nothing else. He's not super easy to rile up, but Stark's playboy arrogance (real or not), way he talks down at people, the self-appointed authority, the entitlement, and, of course, the fucking hypocrisy- it makes Spidey go 0 to 'cashmeoutside' immediately.
He and the Captain sometimes get along, but mostly when the Captain isn't in one of his preachy, pontificating moments. They do work very well together in a combat capacity, but they don't have much to talk about.
Thor is fine, but completely outside of Spidey's sphere and also, difficult to work with given his powers.
Bruce and Spidey just don't have much to talk about, and once again, Hulk is way too loud and can't particularly coordinate when they have to team up.
In general, H!Spiderman gets along with the more 'loner' heroes like Murdock, Deadpool, Black Widow, Bucky, Logan, Clint and so on.
(Side note, imagine he said all these shots fired shit to the Avengers and they were like 'no? none of this happened?' because it's not the same reality and Spiderman has to go home and die from the cringe???) (no we'll let him be cool for this)
-----
Once again, thank you so much for the asks!! I really appreciate all the love this AU has gotten and I hope these answers satisfy!!!
#hunting!spider#spiderman#deadpool#spideypool#wolverine#black widow#the avengers#iron man#thor#captain america#johnny storm#sorry no bromance/romance with Johnny#same shit that makes him want to punch Stark makes him want to punch Johnny.#Every time they're in a room they're fighting demons not to just start fighting#he'd literally do anything for a chance with Black Widow#Hunting!Spider is adrenosexual- anyone who keeps his spider senses at a low constantly tingle is immediately crushzoned
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Day 24 for @steddie-spooktober, Pumpkin. I'll just finish this hellish month and then write all the good Halloween-y stuff when people already look forward to Christmas. There.
"Oh my god. That's Eddie Munson!"
Steve's eyebrow did that treacherous twitch. Here we fucking go again.
Robin just snickered. "Oh wow. That's like what, the fifth one today?" She didn't even look sorry for Steve, the traitor! She just kept making the coffee order, creating a lovely heart in the milk foam.
The woman who ordered the coffee didn't even bother to try and whisper to her friend. She was squealing and pointing at the unsuspecting rock star who had earphones over his head. "What do you think he's reading? It must be something dark. He has a reputation, you know."
Another twitch in Steve's eyebrow, but he was a professional. It was fine. He could do his job even when annoyed. Maybe.
Robin flipped the whiteboard with their seasonal specials. The other side revealed a meticulously prepared game of Eddie Munson-themed bingo. "Wanna play, Steve?"
He scowled at the board. All of those were classics, the stupid shit people say when they meet a rock star like Eddie Munson.
He took an erasable marker and scribbled X next to the questions, comments and other atrocities he managed to catch.
I wonder if he'll show me that special tattoo if I ask nicely. Check.
I heard he's unforgettable in bed. Check.
People say he has a...you know. A piercing down there. Check.
I don't believe the rumors. A guy like that can't be taken for long. He was made to sleep around. Check.
I wonder what he's drinking. Probably something dark and bitter. Mmm, how mysterious!
"Bingo!" whispered Robin. "Now, as per the rules of this humble establishment, once we have a bingo, you get to go there and be a bitch. Do your worst, oh platonic soulmate of mine. I'll be watching."
Who was Steve to deny Robin one of her favorite hobbies? He fluffed his hair and re-applied his lip oil, arranged some pastries on a kitten-shaped plate and made his way to Eddie Munson.
Eddie was lost to the world, but there was a familiar pattern in Steve's footsteps, one that reverbated through the wooden floor. In a second, Eddie had dropped his book and gave Steve the widest smile. One that he couldn't even conjure up on stage. This smile was only for Steve, and Steve fucking hoped the women noticed that.
Eddie made grabby hands at him, pulling him down into a quick kiss. "Is your shift over, Stevie? Can we go?"
Steve shook his head. "Nah, two more hours to go. Ish. Are you sure you don't want to wait for me home? You must be tired."
"Tired?! Pffft. I mean, yeah, but I want to spend time ogling my boyfriend when he's at his sexiest - covered in flour and sugar. And speaking of sugar..." He glanced at the plate. "Is that for me?"
Steve laughed and set the plate in front of him. "Honestly? Even if it wasn't, those doe eyes of yours would persuade me in a second. But yeah. It'll be Halloween soon, and I was testing out some spooky cookies. Do you like pumpkins?"
Eddie gasped and clutched his heart. "Do I?!"
Steve kissed Eddie on the top of his head and put his earphones back on. In a few seconds, Eddie was back in his own world, book, music and cookies.
In a corner of his eye, Steve saw the two young women, speechless. Robin was serving them their coffees, giddy with anticipation. She'd prepared them in to-go cups, just in case.
Steve stood in front of them, flipped his hair and smirked. "Well, ladies. You've had many questions or guesses, and I'm happy I can answer them. You know. To give you some peace of mind" He nodded to Robin. "The list, Rob?"
Robin glanced at their bingo board. "I wonder what he's reading!" she read out.
Steve nodded and returned to the frozen guests. "The book to end all books. That's what Eddie calls the...uh. Tolkien bible thingy. Silmarillion." He pronounced it gery carefully. "He reads it to me sometimes, when I can't sleep. Works like a charm." He might have smirked at the blush creeping up the woman's face. "Next."
Robin saluted him. "Special tattoo?"
"He won't show it, I made him promise he'd no longer get arrested for public indecency. Besides, it's only me that gets to see it. Next."
Robin fake gagged. "Is he unforgettable in bed?"
"Sure is. He talks to my chest hair. I think they're a couple."
Robin gagged again. "Why...ladies, get better questions! That piercing down under?"
Steve snickered. "Very real. Very...effective." He sneaked a glance at Eddie. Sexy and charismatic, yes, but more importantly warm, happy and home.
In a sing song voice, Robin got to the next point. "Is he really taken?"
"Take a guess," Steve winked at them. Or at least tried to, because the customers were already halfway out of the door with their coffee cups, and a very generous tip left on the counter.
"Aw," muttered Robin. "Shame, I thought these two would last longer. It's been ages since someone lasted the full Munson reverse bingo."
Steve laughed and helped her clean the table. "Would a pumpkin cookie console you?"
"Only if I don't have to hear about your bedroom rituals ever again," she said and reached for a cookie. "Or at least until the end of the shift."
#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#steddie drabble#steddie au#robin buckley#steddie ficlet#steddie spooktober
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pink pen
w.c: 1.1k fluff
You didn't know how many hours you had been in that library; you were tired, but needed to study as much as necessary to do well on your final exams. Your concentration was broken when you felt a touch on your shoulder and then came face to face with one of the most handsome men you had ever seen at that university. His bright eyes, paired with the glasses that fit perfectly on his face, the black shirt that hugged his body nicely and the smile that lifted your worries instantly. You realized he had said something, but you had no idea what it was; after all, you had gotten lost in the almost perfect features of the man in front of you.
"Sorry, can you repeat, please?" You thought that must have sounded like an idiot at that moment, but you were sure when he chuckled before replying.
"Ah, okay. Do you have a pen to lend me? I know it's silly to come to study without bringing a pen, but I must have lost all the ones I had."
"Of course." You searched your pencil case and the only pen you found was a pink one filled with glitter and with a cat on top. You felt embarrassed to hand it to the man, but he accepted it nonetheless.
"How cute! This little cat looks like my Lucy. I promise I'll give it back as soon as I finish taking my notes."
And with that, the man went back to where he was studying, a table right next to yours. You wanted to finish studying quickly, but ended up taking longer than you should have because you kept finding yourself looking at him all the time. You had never seen him at the university before, but you would do anything to find out who he was.
That's how you ended up meeting Na Jaemin, a medical student well-known to many at the university, the very definition of sunshine and certainly one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. You were already used to going to the library, but your visits to the place became more frequent, both to study and in the hope of seeing the man again, although he rarely appeared there.
One day you were in front of the library, looking through the large glass doors searching for Jaemin, but found no sign of him.
"Are you looking for something?
You jumped and screamed, startled by the voice that spoke right next to your ear. You were once again so focused that didn't even see Jaemin approaching. The man was laughing at the situation you found yourself in.
"Do you really find it funny to scare others?"
"It's not my fault you're always lost in the clouds." You just rolled your eyes and Jaemin laughed again. "But you didn't answer my question."
Of course, you wouldn't answer that you were looking for him, so you said the first thing that came to your mind. "I... uh... was looking to see if there was any available table because I need to study, but there isn't, so I'll look for another place to study. Bye."
You wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible, but were stopped by Jaemin calling your name.
"How do you know my name?"
"Let's just say I found out." You couldn't help but be surprised by the possibility that Jaemin had asked someone about your. "There's a café nearby that's great for studying. Do you want to go with me? I was already heading there." You could swear Jaemin was nervous about making this invitation to you, but it was probably just your fertile mind creating a scenario that didn't exist.
After accepting the invitation, you were already at the café with their orders placed. Both of you chatted a bit and started studying or at least trying to. Sometimes Jaemin caught himself looking at you. He found it cute how focused you were while reading or when you got a little frustrated because you didn't understand your own notes.
The truth was that Na Jaemin had been watching you for a long time; he always found you beautiful, intelligent, and was really interested in getting to know you better. With everyone else, Jaemin was the most communicative person there was, but whenever he tried to approach you, something stopped him or he just froze.
"Oh..." you said in surprise, catching Jaemin's attention. "You're still using my pen."
"Am I?!" Jaemin said with fake surprise. "It brought me a lot of luck in the last tests, but I guess it's time to give it back..."
"No need!" You interrupted Jaemin, speaking a little louder and becoming embarrassed immediately after. "Since it brought you luck, you can keep it. It kind of suits you."
When tiredness took over, Jaemin insisted on accompanying you to your dormitory, even though you said a thousand times that you didn't need it. On the way, he explained extremely excitedly that he had three kittens, Luna, Luke, and the famous Lucy, and that although they were very similar, the kitten on the tip of the pen you had given him reminded him more of Lucy than her siblings. At that moment, you realized that you could listen to the man talk about the things he likes for hours and that he became even more adorable talking about them.
"Even though I'm allergic, I love kittens." you said when they reached the front of your dormitory.
"You could come to my apartment to meet my babies any day soon..." Jaemin noticed the invitation he had made. "I mean... if you want to, of course."
"I would love to, Jaemin."
Then Jaemin approached and held one of your hands. You were praying that Jaemin wouldn't notice how nervous you were about his touch.
"Can I confess something?" You just nodded. "That day in the library, I asked to borrow your pen because I wanted an excuse to talk to you." Surprise was written all over your face. You wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth. Jaemin noticed this and continued. "I've seen you for weeks, always wanted to get closer to you, but never knew how, and today I made up this excuse to invite you to study just to get to know more about you."
"I've been looking for you all week, but I thought I'd never see you again in that huge university."
"So, does that mean..."
"That I would also like to know more about you..." you handed your phone to Jaemin, in a silent request for him to write down his number. As soon as he did that, you stood on tiptoe and kissed the man's cheek, who was surprised by your gesture. You were about to enter the building when you turned to Jaemin and said, "Oh... that pen suits you more than me."
At that moment, standing in front of your building with a silly smile on his face, Jaemin realized he was stupidly falling in love with the girl with the pink pen.
#nct scenarios#nct#nct fanfic#nct fluff#nct drabbles#nct x reader#nct dream fluff#nct dream au#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#na jaemin x reader#na jaemin fluff#na jaemin imagines#na jaemin#na jaemin x y/n
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Bleeding From The Storm
Chapter Two - Angel
After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.
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READ PLS: hello my lovelies!! So, if you're here from the first part, pls either reread or take note that I have removed all connection to the bianchi family -- the brother is called Louis and the last name is Dupont
Max returned to that spot time and time again. He drove past the café almost every day for his first week in Monaco. Sometimes his angel was there, sometimes she wasn't.
This time, though, when Max drove past, she was there. Sitting in the café with a fruity smoothie in front of her, wearing another sun dress. This time it was green, the skirt slightly shorter and little white flowers decorating it.
Max parked up around the corner. He straightened his tie and climbed out of his car. Always dressed in a suit just in case anybody needed him. Just in case his father called him back to work.
He walked past her, paying no mind as he stepped through the café doors. But then he stepped back, something between a smirk and a smile on his face as he walked towards her.
"Hi," he said, his hand on the back of the chair opposite her own. "Can I ask what you ordered? I'm hoping to get something sweet."
She knew not to talk to strangers. Even before the death of her brother, she had been taught how much danger she was in at all times. Normally Charles would be here to take care of it, to glare a the stranger until they moved away.
But Charles wasn't here. This is what she got for sneaking out.
Thank God this guy was cute. That shouldn't have been a reason to answer him, but she did. She held up her plastic cup and shook it slightly, answering him. "Strawberry banana," she said and put the straw to her lips. Max watched as the pink liquid moved up the straw. "It's incredibly sweet."
Max couldn't stop his smile from widening. He leaned against the chair in front of him now, not just resting his hands on it. "Is it as sweet as you?"
Oh, he was flirting with her.
She couldn't hide her embarrassment. Every time a mad had tried to flirt with her before, Charles had shut them down and scared them off.
But this man, well Charles wasn't there to scare him off. For the first time in her life a man was openly flirting with her. He was flirting with her and it was making het all bashful. And maybe a little bit shy.
He held his large hand out towards her. She couldn't help but take notice of the watch on his wrist. It was no doubt expensive, but that wasn't a surprise, considering where they were. "I'm Max," he said, keeping his hand stretched out.
She took it, but her grip was loose as she told him her name. "But everybody calls me Bunny."
"Bunny," he responded, listening to the way it rolled off of his tongue. He liked it, liked how it sounded. But, if everybody called her Bunny, Max needed something else. He looked at her, really looked at her. Looked at the way her hair fell around her shoulders, the way her fingers, nails painted to match her dress, wrapped around her plastic cups. Looked at the way her pink lips wrapped around her straw. "Angel. I think it's more fitting."
Before Max could say anything further, his phone beeped. Saving her, he couldn't help but think. "Well, Angel, I have to go," he said, standing up straight. "Can I see you again?"Â
She smiled as she nodded. "You know where to find me," she said and sipped the rest of her drink.
Max looked at her once more and walked away, down the street and back to his car. For the last week Max had been waiting for his father to call him back to work and, now that he had, he didn't want to leave.Â
Max disappeared and she was alone. She sipped her smoothie and returned to her small sketchbook, pencil moving against the page.Â
Suddenly, somebody slipped into the seat opposite her. She looked up, hoping it was Max, returning to flirt with her some more. But she was met with disappointment.
"Oh, Arthur," she said when she looked at the youngest Leclerc brother. "Am I in trouble?"
Arthur let out a small laugh and furrowed her brows at her. "You sneak out too often to get into trouble, Bun," he replied as he looked around.Â
"Not because I spoke to that guy?" She asked innocently.Â
But Arthur's face dropped. He may have been younger than her, but he was still tasked with keeping her safe. "Do you remember what this guy looked like, Bunny?" He asked as he grabbed her sketchbook and pulled her from her chair.Â
She nodded her head as Arthur led her down the street. "He was cute," she said and let out a little laugh.Â
But Arthur wasn't laughing as he looked around the streets. "You know that's not what I meant," he replied as he led her into her apartment building. "You know you're not meant to talk to strangers."
He dragged her up the stairs and pulled her into her apartment. Arthur immediately sat her down and checked every crevice of the apartment. He grabbed the knife from the kitchen and checked inside of the bedroom.Â
Nothing, her apartment was clear.Â
"Fucking hell, Bunny," Arthur spat. "You had me terrified."
She pouted as she fiddled with her fingers. "He was flirting with me, 'thur. I think he really thought I was cute," she mumbled and laid herself down on the sofa, pulling her legs into her chest.Â
Arthur released a breath from his nose as he looked down at her. "Of course he did, Bunny," he whispered and ran his fingers through her hair. "It's just... Charles and I don't know this person. We don't know if they can be trusted.â
She didn't reply.
Eventually Charles came to her apartment. When he let himself in, Arthur retreated to the kitchen. To 'make dinner', he had said. (But, something you should know about the Leclerc brothers is that neither of them could cook very well. Arthur stopped by his mothers every night for dinner and Charles wouldn't eat unless Bunny cooked for him).
The first thing Charles did was stride over to her. He sat on the end of the couch and looked down at her. "I'm not mad you snuck out," he said. Which, although it sounded like it, it wasn't a good sign. If it wasn't because of the sneaking out, he was mad about something else.
She didn't look at him, instead staring at her coffee table. There was a light layer on dust on it, and she made a mental note to clean it later. After this stupid conversation.
"But, Bunny, I need you to tell me who this guy is. Did he give you a name? Any indication of who she was?"
She'd made the mistake of telling Arthur something, she wasn't going to do it again. She tried her best to shrug her shoulders from the position she was sitting in, but it didn't much work. "He just asked what flavour my smoothie was," she said and sat up slightly.
She couldn't tell if Charles believed her or not. He simply let out a sigh and patted her leg. "Wanna get take out?" He asked softly. "We can kick Arthur out, share Chinese food and watch a movie. How does that sound, Bun?"
Her arms were folded over her chest as she sat up and looked at him. "Are you paying for it?" She asked through a pout.
"Yeah, Bun, I'll pay for it," he said and went to the kitchen to grab the menus. At the same time he kicked Arthur out of the apartment (grateful that he hadn't started cooking any sort of monstrosity yet).
Charles knew exactly what he was going to be ordering, but he still handed her the menu. She asked for the same thing every time, and this time was no different. He was on the phone, ordering food within minutes.
He couldn't concentrate on much through the movie. Charles watched her, but he couldn't help but think of some faceless stranger, snatching her in the middle of the night.
He'd let her get away with sneaking out, even if he hadn't meant to. But not again. There was no way Charles was going to let her out of his sight now.
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#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen x you#mv1#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv33#mv33 imagine#mv33 x reader#max verstappen smut#max verstappen x reader smut#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#mafia!f1#mafia!au
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Do I still wish it was you?
Satoru Gojo x ReaderÂ
Masterlist (If you're into marvel)
Summary: You were content in the darkness his absence had left you, his memory keeping you focused on one plan. It had to be a white-haired sorcerer with an annoying personality and the bluest eyes you had ever seenâthe one who came and saved you from it.
12.7 k words
Content warning: ANGST, mentions of suicide, depression, violence, grief, past Toji x Reader, foul language, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it yâall). fluff, Satoru is the sweet, jumping from a building but not a bad way, fighting, fReader
A/N: Ik this is out of my usual content but I can't get over the JJK men so, I hope you guy's like it. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this. đ
Sweat covered your forehead as you fought to recover your breath, the smell of sex and humanity filled his bedroom along with the sound of heavy breathing. It took a couple of minutes for you to finally stand from the bed, making your way to the bathroom, not bothering to cover up.
You saw your reflection in the mirror. Naked, disheveled hair, flushed skin along with droplets of sweat, and a minor bruise on your collarbone, the result of a certain white haired sorcererâs lack of restraint. A small smile placed on your lips before you could stop it as you touched it, the skin still a little tender.
Your sight landed on the small tattoo you had on the left side of your chest, a small black lined heliotrope carefully placed on top of your heart. A prickling sensation invaded your eyes along with the painful sensation of guilt, what were you even doing here? How could you smile when he was gone?
The feelings didnât get a chance of nesting in you though, as firm hands wrapped around waist and lips caressed your neck. Your sight darted to the mirror, meeting the most breath taking blue eyes you had ever seen along with a smile.
âIf you donât get any clothes on, I might have to fuck you again.â
You smiled at him, desire igniting again as heâs hands caressed your skin.
âIs that supposed to be a threat?â
A cocky smirk showed up on his face, not that it was unusual to see it. Satoru Gojo was nothing but confident, sometimes overstepping to egocentric, but you would be damned if you didnât admit he had good reasons for it.
His lips brushed your ear, hot breath hitting your skin.
âItâs a promise that I very much intent to fulfill.â
Satoru Gojo was going to be the death of you.
Correction, Satoru Gojo was going to be the reason you would live.
You hadnât planned for this. You had a set plan: to become a sorceress, completing missions, breaking curses, and fighting battles, one after another. A non stop cycle of violence and war until your body gave out and if death came for you, it wouldnât bother you. You would receive it as a long awaited friend as nothing mattered to you anymore, never since the day he died.
He was supposed to meet you back at your apartment in Kyoto, he had promised you he would be there. You waited for hours, and hours turned into days and days turned into weeks.
The last thing you heard him was a couple of text messages that read:
Jobâs almost done. Maybe we should takeÂ
a vacation, go to Las Vegas and stay atÂ
one of those casino/hotels you were talking
about. 11:13 pm
Anyway, Iâll see you in two days. Iâve
missed you. 11:14 pm
He vanished without a trace after that.
You moved to Tokyo as you were tracing his last steps. You had talked to Kong, who could not give you any answers. Years of dead ends and unanswered questions finally led you to give up. That day, you drank yourself to sleep.
Everyone was sure he had left you behind, taken his payment for his last job, and left the country. You couldnât blame them, it was on brand for him to do something alike, but this wasnât the case. You knew he wouldnât do that to you, not when he promised he would see you.
There was also this strange feeling that had settled on your chest the day after his text. It had taken you by surprise as you were just having lunch and suddenly a sharp pain hit you in the chest and the sensation that something had gone wrong hit you. You had thought it was just stress of not seeing him, maybe a little of an overreaction from you, but as time passed, the emptiness in your chest never left.
He was dead.
After over a year of wandering aimlessly in Tokyo, a certain blue-eyed sorcerer found you. You felt his stare while you were getting your coffee, the burning sensation of a powerful presence followed you around the streets of the city. You pretended you were oblivious to it, changing your path every once in a while to double check you were being tailed.
Once the amount of people around you dissipated, you made your way to a bench in the park, sitting in it so calmly it almost seemed everything was normal for your follower. That was until you looked to the buildings on your left, your eyes connecting with a white-haired man with blackened Windsor glasses. For a second he looked surprised, as it was almost impossible that you couldâve sensed him, but a playful smiled replaced it as soon as it came.
It took him less that 60 seconds to come to approach, you crossed your legs once you felt a presence taking the remaining space in the bench you had sat on. Even when you didnât look at him, you could still feel that cocky smile on him.
âHow did you know I was following you?â He questioned, his arms spreading along the back of the bench as he made himself comfortable.
You took a sip of your coffee. âI could feel you.â You said, nonchalantly. Imitating him, you leaned back. âHow did you get here so fast?â
âI teleported.â He shrugged.
âHuh, interesting.â
âYou donât seem surprised at all.â He turned around to look at you.
âWhy would seeing a Jujutsu Sorcerer surprise me?â you asked, now facing him.
The air in your lungs almost disappeared as you found two blue eyes peaking over his glasses, it was almost as if they could see inside your soul. The shiny speckles that seemed to dance around his iris called you, entrancing you into looking at them longer.
Was that his power? Who was this man and why was he stalking you?
âSo you know about Jujutsu Society?â
âWhat does it matter to you?â You barked, your harsh tone only making him smile more. âWho the fuck are you, and why the fuck are you following me?â
He lifted his hands. âWoah there princess, I donât mean any harm, I promise.â He extended his right hand to you. âIâm Satoru Gojo. The strongest sorcerer in the world.â He winked as you shook his hand.
You rolled your eyes the pet name and his ego. âSure you are.â
At the moment you didnât believe him, thinking he was just an over confident asshole that was just pushing your buttons. Looking back, it made you chuckle at how wrong you were.
He laughed, amused at your response. âYou really are something else, arenât you?â
âWhy donât you just tell me what do you want?â You huff, already exasperated by him.
Blue eyes locked on you as he leaned forward. âWhy donât you tell me about that special grade knife you keep in that purse?â
Your pulse picked up, the feeling of your heart smashing against your ribcage so hard you felt it would burst out. You couldnât let him take it, he gave it to you. Perhaps you were too obvious with your worries though, as his eyes traveled to the tight grip you had suddenly imposed on your bag.
âDonât worry, Iâm not taking it away.â He reassured you. âI was assigned to take it, but now youâve captured my attention. I have a hunch youâre much more interesting than that old piece of steel.â
You had found yourself entangled in the world of Jujutsu, at least more than you already were.
He had told you about the sorcerer world, the clans, the sorcerers, the customs, the curses, and everything that came along with that. You had known you had abilities to see things no one else seemed to notice, abilities to get rid of the monsters that crawled all over the world that you had perfected on your own, but you were never sure what to call them or what to call yourself.
Not until a black-haired man with green eyes and a purple worm surrounding him bumped you in the street. A man whose name you couldnât even mutter without breaking down.
Now you had joined the same world he despised and worked alongside the same people he hated. The sorcerer world had found your abilities useful, at least for the time being, and they had decided, with some pressure from Satoru, that you could be a good addition to their dwelling numbers.
You didnât like working for them; you didnât want to do it for a long time, but you had thought it was a good way to just let go and prepare yourself for death. A jujutsu sorcerer's life span was never long; sooner than later they would find their demise. Sure, you could just kill yourself; it would probably be way faster, but if there was an afterlife and you found him there, he would be disappointed in you. Besides, it reminded you of him; he had helped you be as strong as you currently were.
So you fought, day and night; you took whatever they had; there was no small or too big of a curse for you to take. Everything seemed fine for a while; you were content with how things were for a week, until Satoru decided to intervene.
An annoying little prickâthatâs what you usually describe him as. His interest in you hadnât dwindled even after you agreed to join him; it even seemed to have made things worse. He pestered you, following you around with a cocky attitude and bad jokes, forcing you to go with him to places just so he could buy desserts. He got in the way with your missions, babysitting you in as many as he could.
The thing that annoyed you the most was the fact that he was always looking at you, not in a weird, sexual kind of way that you couldâve handled, but he did it in a way that it felt he was trying to look into your soul. Even if you couldnât see his eyes behind the black pair of glasses, you could still feel the burn of his stare on your skin. It felt as if he wanted to know all your secrets, and for the same reason you tried to stay away from him, but the more you tried to do it, the more he seemed to put an effort into crushing it.
Satoru Gojo was the bane of your existence.
âI told you it was a good idea to get this peach daifuku for the way home.â He said, mouth full of food. âWant one?â
âSure.â You muttered, snatching it out of his hand.
This was the third time in a week he had decided to come with you for a mission, your patience running thin the more time you spent with the white-haired sorcerer. You had done your job without any hiccups, and the worst part about it was that it seemed he wasnât even there to intervene if anything did happen, evidently by his relaxed stance along with his arms crossing his chest.
That could only mean that he was tasked with babysitting you or he had actively chosen to follow you everywhere, and you didnât know which one was worse.
âHey, Gojo...â you started, unsure on how to make your point. âYou donât have to babysit me, you know that, right? I think Iâve shown you Iâm capable enough of doing this.â
âThatâs not why Iâm here.â He answered, lazily stretching his arms along the subway seats.
âThen why are you here?â You questioned, slapping away the arm that was on your side.
âCause I like keeping you company.â
Cocky blue eyes met yours, except this time they werenât all cocky; they were sincere. They looked at you with precaution, gaging your reaction towards his words as if they were almost afraid to scare you away.
You didnât give an answer to his words, opting instead for eating your snack in silence. Maybe it was worse that he had been babysitting you; if that had been the case, you wouldnât have had a small smile on your face.
A knock on your door woke you from your impromptu nap; the banging was so loud it reverberated throughout the house. You looked at your watch and noticed that it was only 7 p.m., but that didn't make it any better; whoever it was, you wanted to kill them.
With angry footsteps you made your way to the door, not caring that it looked like you had just woken up.
"What?!" You yelled, flinging the door open.
Your sight was flooded with snacks and movies before revealing Satoru, his glasses slightly tilted down as he looked at your clothes.
"Nice outfit." He winked.
Suddenly you realized that the only thing you were wearing was a gray sweater, barely big enough to cover your thighs. You pulled the sweater down, warmth infiltrating your face.
"Why are you here?"
"Movie night." He said simply, pushing his way into your apartment.
Once he was in the living room, his eyes scanned his surroundings, which in turn made you a little too aware that your apartment was too empty, almost as if no one lived there.
"I don't remember inviting you." You pinched the bridge of your nose, sure a migraine was on its way.
"Hey, it's not like you have anything better to do."
After a few seconds of delivery, you grabbed the bag of instant popcorn to make it in your microwave, rolling your eyes at his smile.
Maybe it was because you were too tired to argue with him; having just woken up, your brain wasn't working so well. Maybe it was because you knew it would take less time to go along with his shenanigans than it would to argue with him.
Or maybe, just maybe, you felt lonely. Sure, Satoru wasn't your first choice, but he seemed to want to be there, even when you tried to keep away from him. There was something about his persistence that made you smile, almost like a puppy you couldn't keep away.
If you were honest, he wasn't that bad. In another life, you might have enjoyed his company, maybe even become friends, but you weren't interested in anyone else coming into your life, not with a hole in your chest with a name on it.
But just for one night, you decided to give in.
You sat down next to him and put the bowl of popcorn between you. "So what are we watching?"
"This." He handed you a DVD case with a foreign title on it, Italian, it seemed. âThe movie is great; there's a lot of action; the only bummer is the main guy dies.â
You slapped his arm.
"Thanks, dickhead. Way to spoil the movie."
âDonât be a cry baby; you couldâve guessed it within the first 10 minutes of the movie.â
You scoffed. "You don't know that."
"Sorry, my bad." He raised his hands. "You're acting like I said the main guy's love interest turns out to be working for the bad guys."
"Dude!"
He laughed, the echo of his voice resounding along the walls.
"I can't believe you fell for that."
"Just play the stupid movie."
You ended up watching two more movies that night before you both fell asleep. And in the warmth and comfort of your lonely apartment, it was the first time in a long time that you didn't think of green eyes and black hair before you closed your eyes.
"Ah, come on. You need to give me more details." Satoru complained, walking alongside you.
"I don't have to give you shit."
It had been a few months since that movie night and you had found yourself not completely rejecting Gojo's presence, and on good days, you would say you enjoyed it. You didn't argue as much when he joined you on missions, and you didn't fight him when he wanted you to go with him to get something to eat or to your apartment to watch a movie. It was... a routine of sorts, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it at least a little.
"You can't just tell me you have a tattoo and not tell me what or where it is."
"And you'll never know."
He hurried his steps, standing in front of you, but walking backwards. He put his hands together and begged you to answer.
"Please, you must tell me, the secret could kill me. What would you do if the strongest sorcerer in the world died and it's all your fault?"
"I'd probably throw a party." You snorted.
Satoru, the drama queen he always was, put his hands over his heart, a playful 'ouch' escaping his lips.
"You hurt me, Princess. I thought you would be devastated if something happened to me." Gojo pouted, the sight making you chuckle slightly.
"Oh yes, absolutely. I would mourn you for at least ten years." You joked.
"Make it fifteen and I might consider forgiving you." He winked.
You made your way through the busy streets of Tokyo until you found yourselves standing in line for coffee, the cozy environment of the place giving you a sense of warmth.
"If I pay for your drink, will you tell me about your tattoo?" He whispered next to your ear.
The smell of his mouthwash hit your nostrils, the cool mint scent lingering in your mind for a few seconds.
"It's going to take a lot more than a bad cup of coffee for me to tell you this."
He rolled his eyes, arms outstretched in defeat as he wrapped one of them around your shoulders. You shook your shoulder, trying to get him off of you, but he didn't budge. You told yourself that just for once you would allow it.
"How about dinner sometime? Would that be enough for you to tell me?" He said casually.
You turned to him, one eyebrow raised in disbelief, thinking he was joking. Although the way he had said it made you think for a second that it was real and there was another intention behind his invitation. That thought only lasted a second as you found it impossible that he was talking about a date, so you played along.
Your eyes turned back forward as you shrugged. âDepends where you take me. Spend enough money on me and I might give you a hint."
"Oh, you're one of those girls?" He chuckled. "You only go out with someone who takes you to expensive places and showers you with gifts?"
"Well, Gojo... if you want to know all my deepest, darkest secrets, you might as well try a little harder."Â
Silence fell upon you, making you think the conversation was over, but a few minutes later he spoke again, surprising you with his words.
"Alright, I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight."
The dim lights of the restaurant made for a more private, intimate atmosphere. Gojo had actually kept his promise, you could tell the restaurant was way over your budget, the cutlery alone seemed to have cost a fortune. The waiter had been very attentive, leading you both to a table at the back of the restaurant and taking your coat to put it away.
Once the two of you were alone, you had assured Satoru that you had only been joking, that you had not really taken his offer seriously.
"Why did you come?" He asked, taking a bite out of the appetizer he had ordered.
"I mean, who am I to turn down free food?"
He chuckled, "And what do you think so far? Worth your time?"
"Ask me after dessert and I'll give you an answer."
Dinner continued with ease, and after a few glasses of wine, you began to laugh at his jokes and make some of your own. You never thought that spending time with Satoru would make you so... happy? You weren't even sure how to describe it, the only thing you knew was that it wasn't horrible.
It was actually quite nice. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to get to know someone.
You talked about where you grew up, how you got your powers, and about your family. In return, he talked about his clan, how he had mastered his powers and about some of his years at Jujutsu High. You talked about little things, your hobbies, your favorite color and your favorite movies.
Talking with Satoru made you realize that you knew so little about him, even though you had known each other for almost a year. Sure, you knew some little details here and there, but you never went in depth, to you, Satoru was nothing more than a pain in the ass and a pawn of the Jujutsu society. Unfortunately, it seemed that almost everyone else thought the same.
That night, you realized that only a handful of people saw him as Satoru instead of Gojo, the greatest defender in the Jujutsu society. Perhaps that was why, despite his colorful personality, he seemed lonely. He seemed to be missing someone in his life who would see him as something other than the power he was born with. For whatever reason, this thought made your heart ache.
Throughout the night, you found yourself staring at him more than usual, noticing every little detail of his face. You noticed the way his hair sometimes fell over his eyes, the way his smile showed most of his teeth, the wrinkles that appeared at the corners of his eyes when he laughed. You also noticed the tenderness of his eyes, how every so often he looked at you in a way that would make your heart hammer against your chest or the way he would look at your lips every so often and you werenât sure if he knew you noticed or he just didnât care.
At the end of the night, you were having trouble deciding which dessert to get, not sure whether to get the cheesecake or the assorted mochi, so he told you to get both.
"I don't believe you, there's no way you don't have hobbies."
He laughed. "I really don't. I'm just too good at everything I do."
You rolled your eyes at him. "And you have the biggest ego I've ever seen in my life."
"Some would call it ego, I call it confidence. And well deserved."
You finished your last mochi, enjoying the last bit of strawberry flavor. As soon as you had taken the last bite, Satoru spoke eagerly.
"So, was this dinner good enough for you to tell me about your tattoo?"
You pretended to hesitate for a second, but you had to hand it to him, he went all out.
"I guess I have to tell you now that you spent so much money on it." You said with a sigh.
"Yes!" He exclaimed, pumping one of his fists in the air.
"Don't get too excited, it's nothing too scandalous." You pulled your cleavage to the side, exposing the left side of your chest.
His eyes locked on the drawing on your skin, heat burning inside you the longer he stared.
"It's a flower?"
You nodded. "It's a heliotrope."
"What does that mean?"
Your voice wavered, your chest tightening. You couldn't talk about it. You didn't want to. But you couldn't show him.
"That's a story for another time."
As much of an asshole as you thought Satoru was, you knew he wasn't an idiot, he understood that you didn't want to talk about it, so he seemed to let it go.
"Alright, that's fair. I got a lot of secrets tonight." He stood up and straightened his black suit. "I'm going to go to the bathroom real quick and then we can go, is that okay?"
"Sure, take your time."
You lost sight of him as he turned the corner and your mind wandered over everything that had happened tonight. You hadn't expected that Satoru would actually buy you dinner and in such a place, and even though you knew that this was just a peasant's change for him, it still surprised you.
You were also surprised by how... human he was. He had surprised you once when he told you about the children he was sponsoring and taking care of, since their parents were nowhere to be found. You didn't get the change to ask for their names, but you were sure you would get another one, you were sure Satoru wasn't done surprising you.
A man called your name and made you look up.Â
Shiu Kong stood in front of you, his desvihebeled appearance intact, except for the way he had done his hair, a small attempt to soothe it.
"Kong." You said as you stood up. You shook his hand in greeting, wanting to get this conversation over with before Gojo returned. "What brings you here? Pleasure or business?"
"You know it's always business." He scoffed. His eyes took a double look at your dress before a small grin appeared on his face. "I would ask the same, but it looks like it's all pleasure for you."
"I guess you could call it that." You shrugged nonchalantly.
Neither of you said anything for a second. It wasn't like you were friends, you were barely a step above strangers and the only connection you had was gone. Fortunately, Shiu broke the silence.
"I never expected to see you here." He cleared his throat. "It's good to see you moved on."
Her heart fell to the ground, replaced by a painful sting.
"I... no, it's not like that." You tried to explain, your words stumbling.
Why did you try to justify yourself? This wasn't a date, was it?
"Hey, I'm not asking for explanations." He said. "I'm not judging you, it's been a while since anyone has heard from Toji."
Toji.
His name came back to haunt you as if it was the first day he didn't go home. The pain was excruciating, almost blinding you to the point of passing out. You hadn't heard his name in over a year, you didn't even dare to say it.
That was a date, right? What the hell were you doing going on a date with Satoru Gojo? How could you do that to Toji's memory? How could you be in a restaurant, laughing and enjoying the company of someone who wasn't his? A sorcerer nonetheless?
How could you?
A man in a suit called out to Kong, motioning for him to come over to where he was.
"Anyway, I have to go now. Have a good life, kid."
You barely registered his handshake or when he walked away, all you could do was stand there and try not to collapse. The sudden realization hit you, you hadnât thought of him throughout this whole night, only at the very end of it.
You had forgotten him.
A hand on your shoulder made you jump, worried blue eyes looking at you through the usual black glasses.
"Are you okay?" Satoru asked, worry lacing his words.
No.
How could you be okay when you forgot him? How could you even do that?
You didn't know what to do, the hole in your chest threatened to swallow you whole. It was what you deserved.
"I-I have to go." You said simply.
With quick movements, you grabbed your purse and made your way to the exit. You didn't care about getting your coat, not when your lungs couldn't breathe, each inhale bringing you closer to suffocation.
The heels you wore hindered your steps, almost causing you to trip twice. With frantic movements, you kicked them off, your bare feet touching the streets of Tokyo as you tried to run from the white-haired sorcerer who kept calling your name.
Calls and texts flooded your phone, finally forcing you to turn it off.
You avoided Satoru after that.
"The wound will heal in no time, but I would still recommend you to take a few days off." Shoko said as she took off her gloves.
"I'll think about it." You said, no real promise behind your words.
Shoko looked at you, studying your face carefully. You knew what she saw, the dark circles, the carelessness of your appearance. But most of all, the pain behind your eyes. Maybe a while ago you would have been careful, trying to hide it so no one could see it, but at this point you didn't really care anymore.
As you rolled your shirt down to cover your torso and the large cut that had been made there, the door burst open, making both of you jump.
Satoru entered the room, taking strong and determined steps towards you, and within seconds he was standing next to you. He lifted your shirt just enough to get a glimpse of the damage the curse had caused, cold fingers poking at the newly healed skin.
It took you a few seconds to snap out of it, but eventually you were aware of how close he was and how exposed you felt.
"What the hell are you doing?" You barked, taking a step away from him and dropping your shirt.
"What the fuck am I doing?" He repeated, an incredulous tone in his words. "What the hell were you thinking? We were supposed to go on this mission together."
You got his text, along with several others telling you to wait for him before going in. Just like the ones you got before, this one was ignored.
"I don't remember asking for a partner."
He scoffed. âYou canât be serious right now? You almost fucking died and youâre mad at me for wanting to go with you.â
"I don't need your help!"
"You do when you've been trying to get yourself killed ever since I met you!" He shouted, his chest heaving with anger as he came closer to you.
"Satoru-" The doctor tried to intervene but Gojo stopped her.
"Stay out of this, Shoko."
"So what if I am?" You said and came closer to him.
"Do you know how fucking crazy this is?" His hands went to his hair and pulled it back in despair. "You've had a bad life? Tough shit, everyone here has been through tough times, you think that makes you special? That somehow that makes it okay for you to say fuck it and act so fucking stupid?"
His words burned deep inside you, you didn't know what he was talking about. He couldn't even imagine how it felt. He knew the effect of his words, but he kept going.
"You want to know why I still go on missions with you? Because of shit like this. Not only will you get yourself killed, but you might end up hurting someone else. Is that what you want? Don't you care about anything but your own selfishness?"
Your eyes began to sting, his face just inches from yours. Blue eyes were once more focused on you, once again searching in your soul. This time though, you could see something in them, a type of pain you didnât understand. It almost made you back away.
Almost.
"My life is none of your damn business. Drop the 'savior' complex and stay the fuck out of my life." You pushed him away. "We're not friends, I can barely stand you, and I sure as hell don't need you pestering me with whatever this is. Stay. The. Fuck. Away."
His hands became fists and you thought he was going to grab you, maybe even shake you. Instead, he walked away, the only remnant of his presence being the sandalwood scent of his cologne. You stood there for a while, your chest heaving as you tried to fight back the tears.
"He's not wrong, you know?" Shoko spoke, her voice startling you. For a moment, you forgot that she was in the room. "It's pretty obvious that you're trying to get yourself killed."
You thought about arguing with her the same way you had with Gojo, only you didn't have the energy anymore, the weight of everything hit you all at once. You sat back in the chair where you had been examined, your head hanging from your shoulders.
"I don't know what to tell you, Shoko. Life sucks."
She laughed. "Yeah, I'll give you that much." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She grabbed one before holding her arm out to you. "You want one?"
"Do you have anything stronger?"
"Not today, sorry. Cigarette is the best I can offer."
You took one out and put it between your lips. Shoko lit yours before hers, the smoke filling your lungs immediately. The raw sensation in your throat almost made you forget your pain, a good side effect you more than welcomed.
âI know that Satoru can be a little too much but he means well.â She paused, trying to find the right words. "We have seen this before with one of our classmates, not exactly the same, but close enough. He was Satoru's best friend."
You were surprised, not once had he ever mentioned it, although you hadn't exactly asked questions about his life, not until this dinner.
"Is he dead?" was the only thing you could think of to ask.
"Oh, no. He's very much alive, he's just..." She took a drag on the cigarette. "I don't think it's my place to tell you this, so let's just say that things have gone very badly for him. So you can understand why he's a little worried about you."
Neither of you said much after that, preferring to smoke in silence. Shoko's words made sense to you, there was always a hint of sadness when Satoru talked about his school days. Even when he smiled and told you about his pranks as a teenager, at the very end of his stories, his eyes would flash with pain, just for a second.
After a few minutes, you finished your cigarette, stubbing it out on the sole of your shoe. You thanked Shoko for her care and for the cigarette as you made your way to the door until she called your name.
"Satoru told me about your dinner and how you avoided him." Heat flushed your cheeks, slightly embarrassed that someone else was aware of your actions. "I like you and I don't know what's going on between you two and it's none of my business, but he's my friend." Her eyes hardened as she spoke. "So don't hurt him or I'll have to hurt you. Don't make me hurt you."
Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment, the look in Shoko's tired eyes replaced by a certainty that sent shivers down your spine.
"I'll try not to."
Rain in Tokyo always seemed to take you by surprise, especially because you always forgot to check the weather before going out. It was something you weren't used to, but every time you were forced to run in the rain, you told yourself you'd remember next time.
With a plastic take-out bag in your hand and your leather purse covering your hair, you ran like hell through the sea of umbrellas. You looked at your watch once you reached the stop sign, sighing at the time.
10:45 a.m.
"Shit." You muttered.
You could still make it, you tried to tell yourself. As soon as the light changed and you were able to cross the street, you took off. The purse you held over your head hindered your movements, so you had decided to just let it hang by your side as you rushed through the streets, making your way back to the school.
After a few instances of almost slipping and a few assholes passing you with their cars and making it their business to splash you with the water pooled next to the sidewalk, you finally arrived, the food still safe in your hand. You reached the building, wet marks leaving a trail behind you, and you checked the time.
10:59 a.m.
Yes.
Finally reaching the classroom you wanted, you stood outside. Voices could still be heard from the inside of the room, relief washing over you as you decided you wait outside. Only you felt the cold sensation of your wet clothes, making you shiver unconsciously.
The door flung open, a group of teenagers stopping in their tracks as soon as they saw you. They looked at you, confused not only to see you there, but at the state of your clothes.
"Uh-" one of them tried to speak, but you cut him off.
âOut. Now.â
With a quick pace, they left. You took a deep breath before venturing inside the room.
Satoru sat on top of a desk at the back of the room, eyes focused on his phone. He seemed to be typing a message, a mask of worry as he seemed to type and delete over and over again. You stayed by the door, words dying on your throat. What were you supposed to say? Should you just say hi and pretend everything is good even though you havenât spoken in weeks? Or just go right to the point and apologize?
A ding from your phone brought back your attention, as well as Satoruâs. Your eyes widened, feeling as if you had gotten caught somewhere you werenât supposed to be. You reached for your phone, glad that it was still dry enough to still function.
A small smile formed on your lips.
Greatest Pain in the Ass
Hey, 10:01 a.m.
You looked back at him, a light rose tinge spreading through his cheeks.
âHi.â You said with a shy smile.
âWhy are you soaking wet?â He questioned, eyes scanning your appearance.
âItâs raining outside.â
Satoru rolled his eyes. âYou forgot to check the weather again?â
âPerhaps.â You answered, making your way to him. Once you reached the desk he was sitting on, you plopped down, opening the plastic bag you were carrying. You took out two honey lemon cold teas along with a couple of cheesecakes, two crepe rolls, and a package of sour candy.
âWhatâs this?â He asks as he grabs the tea.
You knew Satoru wasnât going to be able to resist it, his sweet tooth always coming on top of everything.
âTake it as a peace offering.â
The sorcerer took off his jacket, handing it to you. You considered not taking it, but the shiver down your spine convinced you otherwise.
âThanks.â You muttered.
In what seemed less than a minute, half the food is gone, the other half barely having a couple of bites. You sit in silence as you keep eating your cheesecake, occasionally sipping your tea.
âIâm sorry, by the way.â You broke the silence, the heaviness in your chest lifting as soon as you said the words.
âDid you just say sorry?â Asked Gojo, too incredulous to your annoyance. You nod, eying him. âYou? You said Iâm sorry? The rain must be toxic.â You rolled your eyes at him, and in return, he grabbed you by the shoulders, his face filled with fake concern. âIt must already be in your brain! No, please donât die!â
âAlright, asshole. I get it.â You pulled yourself apart, completely annoyed by his antics. You take a sip of your drink; you knew you deserved it. âI really am sorry, though. Iâm sorry for leaving you at the restaurant and snapping at you back at Shokoâs.â You looked down to your hands, the feeling of shame creeping up over you. âI guess Iâm sorry for being a dickhead in general to you, especially when youâve been nice to me.â
âWhy did you leave that day at the restaurant?â
âIââ your words were caught on your throat. Should you lie? Tell the truth. Avoid the question? You looked at him, and even without being able to see his eyes, you knew what he was thinking.
Tell the truth.
You took a deep breath. âI used to be with someone, a man older than me, and he was... he was involved in a bad world. He left for one of his jobs, and one day he didnât come back; he simply disappeared.â You stopped for a second, a knot on your throat almost breaking your voice. âI came here to find him; look for any clues that might tell me what happened to him, but I didnât find anything, not a single word about him.â A tear took you by surprise when it fell from your left eye. You quickly wiped it, as if that could clear out the pain your heart felt. âThe guy that used to be his handler was at the restaurant; we saw each other, and heââ you scoffed. âHe thought we were on a date and that he was glad I moved on. After that, I just couldnât stay; I felt as if I was betraying his memory, betraying him, and everything was just too much for me. I felt like I was drowning the more I stayed there, so I did the best thing I could; I ran.â
Another tear made its way down your face, but you stopped caring. No matter how hard you tried, the pain of losing him would always be there.
After you finished your explanation, seconds went by without any response, something you attributed to him processing your story, but you werenât sure. It had always surprised you how volatile Satoru was, sometimes easy to read as a first grade book, and sometimes, like now, where you might as well be reading a forgotten foreign language.
âIs that why you always put yourself at risk?â He finally spoke.
âYes.â You answered, a tinge of shame crawling up over you. âI had a plan, you know? I was fine dying doing this. I needed it.â
âWhat changed?â
âYou, I guess. Itâs very difficult to die when someone keeps getting in the way.â You chuckled to yourself, Satoru, not finding any humor in your words. âI donât know; one day I woke up and I realized that I didnât want to die. I also realized I like being here.â
He looked at you, and this time his eyes carried a sadness too big to bear. âAre you still looking for him?â He asked, almost hesitantly.
âNo, I know heâs dead.â
âHow are you so sure?â
âI just feel it.â You shrugged. âI think I felt it the day he died; there was this painful and heavy sensation that got in my chest, and I couldnât shake it off.â
âWhat would you do if you found the people that killed him?â
His question took you by surprise, as you didnât expect it from him. You had thought about it a couple of times though, on long nights where you missed his presence and the scent was almost gone from his clothes. On nights you wished you had gone to Tokyo with him instead of staying back in Kyoto in your normal life. On nights you wished you could have his touch at least one more time.
âIâd kill them. And Iâd make sure they would suffer.â
You both stayed in silence after that. A heaviness in the air had surrounded you, almost as if you had made things worse by telling him the truth. You knew that he wasnât mad or disgusted by you, but there was a storm of thoughts going through his mind that made you wish you could read minds.
The silence was agonizing, and the longer it kept going, the more your chest would tighten. You wanted to break it any way you could, so you decided to ask a question that had been gnawing at you for weeks.
âCan I ask you something?â
He looked back at you, coming back to reality. âShoot.â
âWas that supposed to be date?â
He smiled, almost sadly, as he fixed his hair. For some reason you got the feeling he had something more to say to you, but after careful deliberation he gave you a simple answer.
âOnly if you want it to be.â
It was up to you.
God, why did he do that?
Was that what you wanted? Your mind was nowhere close to thinking about a relationship with someone else, let alone having a date. There were so many things wrong with you: dead boyfriend, inability to move on, active desire to die, walls so high up they could probably compete with the Great Wall of China. You had an attitude problem, a dangerous job, and you hated people getting too close to you. You were not looking to date.
But.
If you were going to have a date with anyone, the idea of it being Satoru didnât bother you in the least.
Maybe you even liked it.
âI think I do.â You whispered.
You smiled at him.
He smiled too.
Satoru opened his mouth to say something, but a ding of his phone interrupted him. With annoyance, he unlocked his phone, his fingers typing up a quick response before putting the device back in his pocket.
âCâmon, lets go.â He said as he put together the trash from your snack and threw it in the can.
You downed the rest of your sweet tea, throwing the bottle to the same can and getting it in the first try. Satoru turned around and gave you a thumbs up. You caught up to him with a little stride.
"Where are we going?â
âTo your place so you can get changed.â
Right. You were still soaking wet from the rain. Suddenly you were hyperaware of the squeaking sound your boots made and the smaller but still present trail of water you left on your way.
âAfter that, we have to go to Shinjuku.â
âAlright.â
His arm wrapped around your shoulders, and for the first time since you met him, you didnât slap his arm away.
âWait, I have another question.â You said.
âWhat is it?â
âWhat did you text me for?â
ââŠâ
âYou were going to apologize, werenât you?â
âI was not.â
"Yes, you were! Man, I shouldâve taken longer buying all this shit.â
âWhatever, it doesnât matter anymore. You apologized first, so I win.â
âOh, so it was competition now?â
Your voices filled the empty halls of the building, the bickering between you not stopping even when you were on good terms. This time there was something different though, and as laughter began erupting from both of you, you were sure there was no going back to how things were before today.
You liked that thought.
âââââ
Pink petals fell from the sky, swept away by the chill winds of April. Groups of people were scattered around Ueno Park, admiring the beatty of hundreds of cherry blossom trees along with hanging lanterns that decorated the main path to follow. Conversations, laughter, and music filled the air, and once you walked further into the park, the smell of food reached your nose.
Satorus hand pulled you towards one of the food stands, making both of you wait in line for some croquettes. You looked down at your joined hands, entwined fingers and all, and your heart skipped a beat.
Coming to the Cherry Blossom Festival had been an impromptu plan. Satoru had just texted you to dress up for the night in something you found comfortable enough to walk, and 20 minutes later he had knocked on your door, a blanket on his shoulder and a small basket on hand.
You liked that about him. Most of your dates had been improvised, to a certain extent. It was either him wanting to do something right in the moment or with him barely giving you time, just like when he asked you to pick you up the next day.
He brought spontaneity to your life in a way that made you happy. Satoru brought a lightness with him that you didnât think a lot of people saw and how you wished everyone could. Maybe then they could see past the confident facade he always seemed to carry, and instead they would find the human, annoying as ever but with a heart the size of the world.
After getting your food, you went to find a place to sit that would allow you to have some privacy. Gojo guided you over a no trespassing sign, and when you expressed your concern, he simply smiled.
âTrust me, weâll be fine.â
So you followed him until you found a good spot; there he extended the blanket while you put down the basket, making sure to take everything out. Petals fell all around you, and the darkness of the night enveloped you, except for the dim light of the moon and a couple of lanterns.
Everything was perfect.
Then his hand grabbed the side of your face, making you turn to him. He had taken out his glasses so the totality of his blue eyes were exposed. God, they were beautiful. His eyes went from your eyes to your lips, a quick but intense glance. His hand traveled to the back of your head, almost as if they were asking for permission to go forward. You grabbed his arm, your finger giving him a slight caress.
That was all he needed.
He kissed you. He kissed you in a way that made you forget to stop breathing. He kissed you in a way that you felt every single sensation around you, yet the only thing you could focus on was his lips on yours. He kissed you, and you wanted more. You wanted everything.
He kissed you with desperation, like he had wanted this for a long time.
He kissed you, and you tasted his mint toothpaste along with something else you couldnât place.
You pulled apart to face worried blue eyes, looking for a sign that perhaps you didnât want that. He thought he mightâve overstepped his boundaries, and you were going to run away again.
You kissed him again to erase his doubts, and you knew it.
He tasted like the future.
Moans filled his bedroom. The squeaking of the bed pushing against the wall made you glad you were at his apartment instead of yours; if anyone had to deal with angry neighbors, let it be him. Satoru hadnât even let you take off your clothes completely; instead, he had pushed down your underwear and lifted up your skirt, your underwear still hanging from one of your ankles.
Your face was facing a pillow, but you had heard him pull his pants desperately. He was big; he had warned you, but once the tip of his cock had tried to breach your entrance, your confidence in taking him had severely dwindled. He knew what he was doing though, his hands traveling in front of you, finding your clit.
A gasp left your lips, the coldness of his hand surprising you. He drew small, precise circles on it; every time he would hit a certain angle, you could feel yourself getting wetter. He knew what he was doing.
âYouâve been driving me crazy, you know that.â He whispered in your ear.
Electricity traveled all over your body, the anticipation of him finally being inside you driving you crazy.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â You panted, grinding all over his fingers.
You felt his hand smacking your ass. Hard.
He pulled your hair back, your head lifting from the pillow. âDonât act dumb with me, princess.â
His lips found the right place on your neck, and the sensation of him sucking on it made your knees weak.
âYou know this is my favorite skirt.â
Smack.
His fingers never gave you a rest; the longer they kept going, the more the pressure built inside you. Your skin felt on fire; every kiss, every caress, and every smack made you feel like you could almost cum. Satoru had a way of overwhelming your senses; you sometimes wondered if it was a side effect from his six eyes.
He went faster, fingers using your own moisture to slide all over your bundle of nerves. You were so close, your moans getting louder and louder. You wanted it. No, you needed it. You need it like a thirsty man needs water.
âPlease.â You begged.
âPlease what, princess.â
âD-donât stop, Iâm so close.â You breathed.
So, so close, the coil inside you tightening, ready to snap.
He stopped.
âWhat the fââ Your whine was cut short by his cock sliding inside of you.
He did it all at once, not giving you time to adjust. God, he was huge. With one sharp thrust, he was completely inside. You felt a little pain, but the overwhelming amount of pleasure you felt washed it away to the back of your mind when he started thrusting.
âIs that what you wanted?â He asked, his voice gruff as he digged his fingers on your hips.
Smack.
âAnswer me, you little slut. You wanted my cock so bad?â
âY-yes!â You were barely able to say.
Smack.
âYou thought you could tease me all night.â
Smack.
âGrind your ass against me.â
Smack.
âYour fucking hand was under my pants while we were in that meeting. You thought that was fucking funny?â
Smack. Smack. Smack.
âFuck! No!â
His pace was relentless and punishing. He seemed like a wild animal who had just caught his prey. His thrust was too much; you found yourself pulling away from him, but strong hands pushed you back to him.
âWhere the fuck do you think youâre going?â He growled. âYou wanted it so bad, now you have to take it.â A hand pressed your head against the bed, and you felt his left leg hoping on the bed.
You didnât think he could reach deeper inside you. Once again, you were proven wrong. You couldnât last longer, not when you felt the tip of his cock almost hitting against your cervix. Your walls tightened around him, causing him to hiss in pleasure.
âGod, this pussy is perfect.â
He buried himself again and again and again until tears rolled down your eyes. He knew you were close.
âYouâre going to come all over this cock, princess?â
A pathetic mumble resembling a âyesâ escaped your lips. That gave him the signal he needed.
This time his rhythm never stopped; consistent hard, deep, and quick thrusts punished your pussy over and over again. His grip on your ass tightened too; you were sure you would have marks on your skin tomorrow morning. He kept going, faster and faster; you heard moans that left his lips, and you were sure he was also close.
âCome on, baby, come all over this cock.â
That was all you needed to come undone.
He kept going for a couple of thrusts, rhythm gone as the desperation for chasing his high became bigger and bigger. His hands grabbed the sides of your hips, using them to bounce all over his cock. It was almost as if you were his own toy.
He came no long after that.
Both lay in bed, sweat covering your forehead and back as you gasped for air. Satoru was the first to stand up, grabbing a towel from the bathroom to clean himself. You were too tired to move, so the sorcerer took it upon himself to clean you himself. The cloth felt weird against the raw skin of your pussy but the carefulness of his touch made it better.
The towel flew across the room, landing in an unknown location. After picking up the now crumpled-up sheet, he covered both of you with it, his arms bringing you to his chest. The bluest eyes in the world looked at you, admiring every inch of your face as his hand caressed it.
You took the lead this time, reaching to him for a kiss. Your lips touched his, and his lips parted slightly, allowing you to deepen the kiss, his hands burying themselves in your scalp, pushing you in as if the closeness that you had wasnât enough.
For the first time in a long time, you were happy at night; your heart didnât ache as you fell asleep in the warmth of his arms.
âGod, why the fuck did I listen to you?â You mumbled, dangerously close to the edge of the building.
Tokyo's city lights shone below your feet, the never-ending life of its streets still buzzing no matter how dark the sky was. The altitude you were in made the wind strong enough that you felt you were going to be swept away by it. The jacket you had brought was no match for the wind, your hands clenched on the material as if that would warm you more.
âBecause itâs going to be fun.â Satoru said before kissing your cheek.
âNot if I freeze to death.â
Satoru stood next to you, tall, powerful, and beautiful, with his eyes free from the typical dark glasses. Even as you were at the edge of the top of a twenty-nine-story building, he seemed so nonchalant it couldnât help but annoy you.
How could a man so annoying be so perfect?
How were you so lucky to have found two perfect men in your lifetime?
âYou were the one that wanted to try this.â He laughed, a big smile on his face.
âWhatever, letâs just do it.â
His hand extended towards you, waiting for you to grab him back. Your hand went halfway before the corner of your eye caught how tall the building actually was. You had refused to look down for this very reason, but you couldnât do anything now; your eyes were locked in.
What the fuck were you doing?
Fear settled in the pit of your stomach along with regret, as Satoru was right; you were the one that said you wanted to see how his teleporting worked. When you had asked him what his favorite part of it was, he answered free falling from a building and teleporting back to where he had started. And now, the longer you looked, the dizzier you felt.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
âI canât do it. This is fucking insane.â The volume of your voice was an octave higher, but you couldnât control it.
You began backing away until hands on your face stopped you.
âHey, itâs ok.â He said calmly. âWe donât have to do this if you donât want to. We can just go back and do something else.â He waited a moment, trying to see if you would back away, but you didnât. âIf you want to do it, though, you have to trust me; trust that I wouldnât let anything happen to you.â
He backed away, moving close to the edge. His hand reached out to you once more.
âDo you trust me?â
Your hand finally took his, trembling legs making their way to him.
You took a deep breath. You trusted him, even when your senses told you it was a bad idea. You trusted him even when your survival instinct fought hard to push you away from the edge.
You trusted him.
Wholeheartedly.
Fully.
Unconditionally.
You both jumped.
The rational part of your mind told you it had happened in a matter of seconds; it couldnât have been more than four, considering the height of the building and the fact that you didnât splatter all over the floor. For the other part of your mind, though, it was endless. You fell, and you fell, and you couldnât stop falling; the floor was close but never close enough.
The scream that left your lungs made your throat ache, your chest rumbling as the scream kept coming and coming. Your heart wasnât in your chest anymore; you were sure it had already exploded the moment your feet left the building. You were even surprised you were still breathing; your lungs didnât seem to get enough air in them. You had heard how people that fall from skyscrapers die from heart attacks rather than the fall itself. Now you could see that happening; the longer you thought about it, the more you felt close to death. That was until you felt pressure on your hand. Satoruâs hand never left yours, even when you tried to pull your arms to your face, trying to cover your eyes from the ever-closing floor.
One moment you were in the air, and next you were back at the edge of the building.
Your legs failed, almost making you drop to the ground, but his arms were there to keep you steady. Miraculously, you still had a living heart, as you felt itâs beating on your ears every time. Gojoâs worried face gained your attention, his eyes scanning you as his lips moved, but his words never reached your ears. Only then did you finally process what had happened.
You had jumped from a building, and you had teleported back.
You were still alive.
The fear was quickly replaced by blinding excitement. The adrenaline coursing through your veins felt like hot liquid fire, this time the trembling of your body caused by it. The sudden feeling that you could conquer the world overcame you; you wanted to do it again and again and again so you could feel like this forever.
A laughter came out of you, which initially had scared Satoru, but the more you laughed, the more he was sure you were ok.
âI canât believe I just did that.â You said as Satoruâs hands helped you stand up.
âI told you it was awesome.â He laughed along with you.
You jumped to his arms, pulling him in for a kiss. Your hands traveled all over his hair, pulling it as you deepened the kiss. His hands brought you up, settling on your ass once your legs wrapped around his waist. Something in him was desperate for your touch, his hands holding you in place as both of you kept exploring each other.
You pulled away from him, excited to tell him you wanted to try it again, but he interrupted you.
âLetâs do it agaââ
âI love you.â
Your heart stopped this time.
You knew he had loved you for a long time. Every moment you spent together you could see it. His love was in everything he did. It was in the way he made you laugh, in the way he would make sure youâd have enough to eat, in the way he would buy your favorite snacks on the way to your apartment, on the way he would offer to do the dishes so you could go take a shower, on the way he would caress your face, his eyes screaming the words he didnât dare to say. His love was everywhere.
A long time ago you had never thought you would love someone the way you had loved Toji, and in a way you were right. Loving Toji had been intense, warm, and comfortable; for a man so closed up to love, he had surprisingly shown you so much of it, even if it had taken some time for it. You had loved Toji first, and you had given him your unconditional love even before he knew your feelings. Loving Satoru was different; it was quick and unexpected, but most importantly, it made you feel alive. You had gotten used to the shell of yourself you presented to the world, something you had gotten comfortable with, but Satoru had managed to break it with his bubbly, eccentric persona. He had teared the walls you had built, little by little chirping them apart, until your heart could beat for someone again. There was no comparison between Toji and Satoru; they both had your heart forever, just in different ways.
He loved you even when you felt like you didnât deserve it.
So how could you not love him back?
âI love you too.â
The smell of pancakes filled Satoruâs apartment, along with the sound of his tinkering around the kitchen. You stretched yourself along his bed, your skin welling the coolness of the expensive sheets he had. Your body was sore; the toll of yesterdayâs curse, along with your nighttime activities with Satoru, had left you drained.
You stood up, using one of his shirts to cover up. The sight that welcomed you once you reached the kitchen made you laugh. Pans and food were scattered everywhere as the sorcerer went back and forth from the pans to the freshly made orange juice he was trying to make.
âWho wouldâve thought pancakes and orange juice would be your one true enemy?â You chuckled.
He turned around to face you, his hands carrying a bowl with what you assumed was pancake batter. A shy smile adorned his face, which managed to swell your heart with love.
âItâs not my fault the instructions on the recipe werenât clear; how was I supposed to know you had to grease the pan with butter?â
âIâm pretty sure every recipe says so; even then, itâs basic knowledge.â
You walked closer to him, reaching out to him for a morning kiss, but he backed away.
"Don't; I have a raw egg all over me.â
âNow, how did you manage to do that?â
Satoru shrugged his shoulders, going back to his duty. You propped yourself on top of one of the kitchen stools, looking at the white hair sorcerer finish cooking the last of the pancakes.
âYou need any help?â
âNah, Iâm almost done. I was trying to bring you breakfast to bed, but I was sabotaged.â
âSure you were.â
After a few minutes of cooking, the last of the pancakes rested well on top of the mountain he had created. The orange juice was now in a clear crystal jar right in front of you. It wouldâve been a nice scenery if it wasnât for the mess that tainted the background. Satoru began throwing everything in the sink in a rushed manner, his hand reaching out to grab the kitchen towel.
You stood up from your seat, snatching the towel out of his hand.
âWhy donât you go take a shower while I clean this?â You offered as you thought it would be uncomfortable to eat covered in eggs, flour, and orange juice.
He shook his head. âNo, I had this whole thing planned andââ
You interjected âAnd Iâm very grateful that you did this, but I also want you to enjoy breakfast. Besides, itâs just going to be a little cleaning. I promise, as soon as you get out, Iâll stop cleaning.â
Satoru, as stubborn as he always was, was about to refuse your help, but to his dismay and your amusement, his hand landed unspilled batter that covered a part of the counter. You tried to control your laughter, which only made it more obvious, earning an eye roll from the sorcerer.
âFine, but no more cleaning as soon as I get out of the shower.â
You lifted your right hand. âI solemnly swear.â
He left the room with quick steps, the sound of his discarding his clothes echoing from his bedroom. You put yourself in action, focusing on just cleaning the counters as it felt like a more important task than tackling the mountain of dishes; Satoru could take care of that.
You were almost done throwing all the trash that you had gathered in the can when a ringtone surprised you. Satoruâs phone had somehow ended behind the toaster, and surprisingly, it had survived being stainless with all the food flying around it. You wiped your hands quickly before grabbing it, Ijichiâs name flashing on the screen.
âIjichi is calling you.â You yelled at him, sure that he would be able to hear you even in the shower.
âIâll call him back later.â He yelled back.
You put it in the counter, letting the call go to voicemail. You were about to keep going with your duties when the phone rang againâanother call from Ijichi. This ringing kept going for a little while until it went to voicemail once more, then the texts came, one after the other.
A sudden heaviness installed in your stomach; maybe it was something important; it had to be for him to be so insistent. You grabbed the phone in your hands, typing the four-digit password to unlock it. Another message popped up on his screen, and you clicked on it.
Ijichi
Iâm sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Gojo, but we have a situation. 9:37 am
I wouldnât be so insistent if it wasnât serious. 9:37 am
Please get back to me as soon as possible. 9:38 am
Itâs about the Fushiguro kids. 9:38 am
Fushiguro kids.
Fushiguro.
You dropped the phone; itâs screen is cracking as it touches the ground. It couldnât be them, could it? There was no way Satoru had anything to do with those kids. Why would he? You had never even told him Tojiâs last name, none the less told him about his kid and stepkid. It couldnât be, could it?
âWhatâs wrong?â His voice startled you, a concerned look on his face as you walked towards you.
You gather all the strength you have, unsure whether the words will actually come out of your mouth without getting stuck in your throat. You looked at the floor, thinking it would be the only way you would be able to talk.
âWho are the Fushiguro kids?â Your voice was barely audible, the straining in it impossible to miss. You looked back at him, hoping to find his usual smile or perhaps just a confused look on why you were acting like that.
You hoped for anything that would tell you it wasnât the same Fushiguro family you were thinking about.
Instead, wide, panicked, blue eyes looked back at you.
âIââ
âDonât fucking lie to me.â
It didnât take a genius to figure out Satoru was thinking of an excuseâanything he could bullshit you to take away the anger that began simmering in you.
âWho the fuck are the Fushiguro kids?â
A heartbeat went by, then he answered.
âMegumi and Tsumiki.â
A scoff left your lips. Everything in the room was spinning, the beating of your heart pounding incessantly on your head. Millions of questions ran through your head, but you were unable to focus on one, each second passing you by and flooding you with emotions you werenât sure how to process. Was this how it felt to be in his unlimited void?
âHow do you know them?â
âToji Fushiguro told me about Megumi.â
âDid you know who I was?â Your voice was barely above a whisper.
He hesitated, not wanting to reveal himself, but there was no point in it, not anymore.
âYes.â
âWhatâ? How did youâ?â
There it was, the same sadness you would sometimes catch behind his eyes. You had never dared to ask about it, sure that he would come to tell you with time. You had guessed it had to be with Suguru; the things you had asked about him earning almost the same sad look of losing his best friend.
But this wasnât a sadness about losing someone. It was a sadness knowing everything would end as soon as you knew the truth.
No. It couldnât be. It couldnât be him.
He couldnât be the one.
Not Satoru.
âNo.â You backed away from him, his presence digging a hole in your chest. âNo, no, no, no.â
âPlease, let me explain.â His hand tried to reach you but you slapped it away.
âWhat the fuck are you going to explain?â You screamed, the last syllables of your sentence breaking as tears pooled in your eyes. âThat you fucking killedââ you couldnât even say the words; they tasted like vile rising from your esophagus.
âIâm sorry.â
Rage.
Pure, blinding rage.
Your senses, your body, your thoughtsâeverything was swarmed by rage. Your hand, almost like in automatic motion, punched the sorcerer square in the face, landing him across the room. His body left a dent in the wall; the few frames he had hanging were now broken apart, all scattered over the floor.
Before you could think about it, your hand had already reached out to your bag, taking out the knife Toji had given you. The shock from your hit had passed, and now Satoru stood up, a small cut on his cheek. You sensed him before he had even teleported, the sudden cursed energy surge behind you alerting you of his moves. You grabbed him by his throat, slamming him back down to the floor.
After spending time, you had learned to read every part of Satoru that involved his fighting techniques along with the signature of his cursed energy. You had learned everything that was to learn about the greatest sorcerer in the world, and now you were going to use it to finish him, even if you died.
You grabbed your knife, your cursed energy amplifying the one the object already owned, and you aimed it at his heart. You wanted him to feel the same pain he had caused you when he killed him, the pain he caused when he had lied to you. You were going to carve his heart out, and maybe then he could understand a fraction of what you were feeling.
His teleportation worked again, this time placing himself further away from you in the room. The tip of your knife crashed against the wood panels, leaving a dent in them.
âPlease, stop.â He pleaded, the sorrow in his voice making your heartache ten times worse.
You didnât stop; you couldnât allow yourself to stop.
Your body smashed against his, knocking him down against the bed. Slash after slash he dodged, your knife unable to pierce his skin. In between movements, he kept pleading with you, the desperation in his voice increasing with each attempt.
Somewhere along the fight you saw an opportunity at his feet. You werenât sure if it had been on purpose or maybe it was just a coincidence his guard wasnât as high as you had expected, but you seized the moment, your arm managing to pin him against a wall.
The knife you held shoots up straight to his neck, the blade making contact with his skin. You were ready to slash a straight line along it, but the back of your mind told you something was wrong.
You could touch him. All along the fight, you had been able to touch him. The cut he had from your punch still bled slightly, another piece of evidence of your proximity to him. Every kick, every punch, and every tackle had made direct impact with his body.
Not once during the fight had he activated his infinity.
The blade dug on his skin, and a faint drop of blood trailed down his neck.
âWhy the fuck arenât you using your infinity? I could fucking kill you.â You screamed in his face, digging your knife deeper into his skin. âWhy arenât you fighting back?â
A despairing smile showed on his face.
âBecause I love you.â
Hot, salty tears cascaded along your face, the bridge of anger finally snapping as the sorrow took over everything you could feel. You couldnât stop them; the more you tried to contain them, the bigger the hole in your chest grew.
He loved you, and you believed him.
You loved him back, and that love made you want to die. You couldnât kill him no matter how much you pretended you wanted to; you knew you couldnât survive losing someone that you loved again.
No matter how much you hated him at the same time.
You stood up, ready to grab your pants and bolt through the door. His hand stopped you, steading you in place.
âPlease, donât leave.â His begged, tears matching yours. âPlease donât leave me.â
Two bleeding hearts pleaded for each other that morning; one begged for forgiveness while the other begged to be put out of its misery. Both of them were entwined by the love they had for each other, along with the hurt they caused.
Yours was the only one that got what it wanted.
âNever contact me again. Iâll kill you if you do.â
If you like the story please interact: reblogs, likes and comments go a long way. Feedback is always appreciated! Feel free to message me about it.
#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo fanfiction#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo angst#satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#jjk fanfiction#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojo angst#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru fanfiction#jujustu kaisen#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader#toji fushiguro
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first date || spencer reid x fem!reader.
warnings: none just fluff.
a/n: im sorry for being gone for like forever guys, but hereâs a short and simple first date story, itâs kind of a continuation of them meeting in the coffee shop, but you donât have to read that to read this.
spencer reid stood nervously outside your apartment, his fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against his thigh. he adjusted his glasses for the third time in as many minutes, his mind racing with facts about first dates, statistical probabilities of success, and the best ways to make a good impression. when you opened the door, his thoughts scattered as he took in your warm smile and the light in your eyes.
"hi spencer," you greeted, your voice soft and welcoming. "you look great."
he blushed, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "thank you. you look beautiful," he replied, his words sincere. "i brought you these." he handed you a small bouquet of wildflowers, their vibrant colors reflecting the excitement and hope in his heart.
"they're lovely," you said, your smile widening as you accepted the flowers. "let me put these in some water, and then we can go."
spencer nodded, watching as you moved gracefully into your apartment. he took a deep breath, reminding himself to stay calm and enjoy the evening. it was, after all, just a dateâa chance to get to know you better and share a few moments together.
you returned quickly, flowers now safely in a vase. "all set," you announced. "where are we going?"
"there's a little bistro downtown that has great reviews," spencer said, his voice gaining confidence. "i thought we could try it."
"sounds perfect," you replied, linking your arm with his as you stepped outside. "lead the way."
the walk to the bistro was filled with easy conversation, spencer's nervousness gradually melting away in the warmth of your company. he told you about his latest case, carefully omitting the more gruesome details, and you shared stories from your work, your laughter a soothing balm to his anxiety.
at the bistro, you were seated at a cozy table near the window, the soft glow of candlelight creating an intimate atmosphere. spencer found himself relaxing even more, his natural curiosity and enthusiasm taking over as he asked you about your favorite books, movies, and hobbies.
"i didn't know you liked science fiction," he said, his eyes lighting up. "i have so many recommendations for you."
you chuckled, delighted by his passion. "i can't wait to hear them all," you said. "but only if you let me recommend some of my favorites, too."
"deal," spencer agreed, his smile wide and genuine. he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. "i'm really glad we did this."
"me too," you replied, your touch lingering on his hand. "i've been looking forward to this for a while.
the rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, shared stories, and the comforting realization that this was only the beginning. as spencer walked you back to your apartment, he felt a sense of contentment settle over him.
"i had a wonderful time tonight," he said as you reached your door. "thank you."
"so did i," you replied, stepping closer. "we should do this again sometime."
spencer's heart skipped a beat as you leaned in, your lips brushing softly against his. the kiss was sweet and brief, but it held the promise of many more to come.
"i'd like that," he said, his voice filled with warmth and certainty. "goodnight, y/n."
"goodnight, spencer," you whispered, your smile lingering even after the door closed behind you.
as spencer walked away, he couldn't help but feel that tonight was the start of something wonderful. and for once, he didn't need statistics or probabilities to tell him that. he just knew.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#reidmaniac đ”#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff
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So Close
Summary: You meet Colter and Russell at the morgue to help them gain access. Had you known how this was really going to go, you might have pushed Colter's call to voicemail.
Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader; Russell Shaw x FBI!Female!Reader
A/N: I have zero idea what this is. My muse demanded I type this out after watching the morgue sneak peek scene and at this point, I'm giving her whatever she wants. I have never seen this show, know nothing about the characters and any relationships they may have or their background stories, only vaguely know what the premise is, and I'm waiting to see the episode like everyone else. And yet, the muse still put me to work. She can be so brutal sometimes.
I wouldn't call this speculation for 1x12 because I have no idea what's happened before it yet. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. Full text in italics is dialogue from the morgue scene.
Warnings: mention of dead body; angst
Word Count: 2096
Sequel | Series (please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the series or any future Russell or Tracker works)
Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel
Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat
You can also read on AO3
You met Colter and Russell Shaw at the morgue, telling them that you were only doing this one small favor and that was it and only for Colter. Colter, as always, understood. Russell, not so much.
The older man turned to look at his younger brother. âI thought you said sheâd be a big help to us on this one.â
Before Colter could answer, you narrowed your eyes in Russellâs direction. âIâm putting my job at risk helping you,â you snapped.
And still just as infuriating as ever, he gave you a smile, that teasing gleam in his eye. âItâs good to see you again, Y/N. You are lookingâŠâ He worked his fingers into the all-too familiar gesture of approval, giving you a glance over.Â
âGo to hell, Shaw.â You spun on your heel and started marching towards the building. âLetâs go,â you barked. âWeâre on a timeclock.âÂ
You never looked back to see if they were following you but you heard Colter mutter not too far behind you, âYou mind not pissing her off until after we get to see the body?âÂ
âYeah,â Russell quietly agreed, sounding far more serious than he had a moment ago. As a matter of fact, he sounded a little down, which made you wonder what was really going on. You already knew of the strain between the brothers so them working together was odd in itself but Colter hadnât given you details when he called you and you hadnât asked for them. You hoped this case they were working had nothing to do with anyone who Russell might⊠You forced away the thought and renewed your focus on the task at hand. You werenât here for anything pertaining to that. You needed to keep your mind clear, and your eyes and ears open.Â
Once you were all inside, you noticed an older woman sitting at the reception desk. You were about to walk in and pull your badge, ready to lie your ass off and give your official spiel when Russell held a hand up. âI got this,â he assured you both, before waltzing right in. You and Colter exchanged a look before following him.
The woman glanced up briefly and saw you all approaching before going back to her computer. âWhat can I help you with?â
âHi, umâŠâ Russell glanced down at her nametag as Colter moved to stand next to his brother, sporting a small smile. âYolanda. Well, that isâthatâs a beautiful name.â You slowly shook your head and crossed your arms. He was seriously going to try to charm his way in? Well, this ought to be fun to watch.
You werenât surprised when she barely spared him a glance before going back to typing.
And of course, that didnât deter him one bit. âSadly, we, uh, we heard about Len Claimans. Recently deceased and, uh, we just need to see the body.â
That caught the womanâs attention as you expected it would. She immediately turned to face him and slipped her eye glasses onto her head. âWhat for?â
âHow do you like working here?â You nearly smirked at the increased pitch in Russellâs voice, betraying his attempt at bullshitting and also a small case of nerves. It was almost as if heâd never lied before. Funny that.Â
From Colterâs expression as he watched this trainwreck up close, he had to be thinking along the same lines as you, but more so wondering why this was even being attempted with you standing right there.
âHuh?â Russell continued. âI get a good vibe from you, you know. Kind eyes â helpful eyes, I like that.â You bit your lip to keep from saying something you shouldnât. Russell had never been what you would call a good flirt, but he certainly was dialing up the charm to try to compensate.Â
Too bad the charm didnât seem to be working. Yolandaâs eyes immediately transferred to Colter. âWhatâs he talking about?â
Colter shook his head and turned to look at her. âThe body might be connected to the disappearance of another man,â he explained. You noticed Russell glancing back at you out of the corner of his eye and you arched an inquisitive brow in his direction which made him immediately focus on Yolanda again, nodding along as his brother talked.
âOh.â Yolanda looked regretful for a moment before going back to her computer. âIâm sorry, but unless youâre family, I canât let you back there.â
Knowing this was the point Colter needed your intercession, you began to step forward but immediately froze when Russell snapped his fingers and spoke up. âI didnât mention.â He gestured between him and Colter, giving Yolanda a smug grin, almost as if he had finally found the ruse that would work. âCousins.âÂ
If you could have facepalmed right there without anyone seeing you, you would have. Wow. How was he so bad at this? And why didnât he just let you do the talking? Or his brother for that matter?
Yolanda huffed out a breath of impatience. She was clearly done with this conversation and quite frankly, so were you.
Russell suddenly leaned forward. âWe just-we just need a minute. Or two, you know? I promise we wonât disrupt a thing and then afterwards, maybe, uh, go grab a drink or, uh, somethinâ somethinâ.â This time, you did briefly cover your face with your hand. This was just beyond embarrassing. Why did you agree to help these two again?
You could not believe what you were hearing and neither could Colter. You watched as he stared at his older brother before he decided to give it one last ditch effort and played along, turning a strained smile onto the woman.
And as expected, Yolanda finally reached her limit. âNo. Sorry.â She got up from her chair and walked away.
Russell let out a disappointed breath. âThat was so close.â
âNo,â Colter rightfully disagreed.
Youâd now reached your limit as well. Stepping forward, you loudly cleared your throat and came to a stop next to Russell. Yolanda turned to look at you, wondering what was coming next from the circus act that had apparently decided to roll into her office this afternoon. You gave her your best professional smile. âHi there. Iâm Special Agent Y/L/N with the FBI.â You slipped out your badge and held it up for her to see before putting it back into your pocket. âMy associates here are correct. Weâre currently investigating a missing persons case that may be connected to Mr. Claimansâ death. Iâm going to need to take a look at the body as well as the autopsy report.â
Yolanda, clearly not believing anything you were selling today, stared over at you, unimpressed. âDo you have a warrant?â
âI can have one sent over to you in the next hour,â you lied. âBut right now, weâre on a bit of a timeclock as Iâm sure you can imagine.â
She glanced between you three, thinking it over. Russell and Colter looked back and forth between you two.
âLet me see that badge again.â
You grabbed it and handed it to her as she walked over. She studied it and then gave it back to you after a moment. âTen minutes,â she decided. Both of you ignored Russellâs little smack to the counter and triumphant grin mixed with a quiet âI knew I liked youâ in Yolandaâs direction.Â
She looked bored. âThatâs all I can give you.â
You gave her a nod of gratitude. âThatâll be plenty. Thank you.âÂ
She nodded and passed next to you to lead the way. You glanced in Colterâs direction and he nodded his thanks. Russell turned to you, his grin all but gone now, the serious tone from before back. âThank you,â he murmured.
âSure.â He gave you the beginnings of a grateful smile, his gaze never leaving yours. You could feel yourself being sucked in, almost as if there was a strong magnetic force trying to pull you back in. There was so much going on behind those eyes that looked almost as if they were pleading with you for something â something that you werenât entirely sure you were ready to give. You were still putting yourself back together, trying to repair the damage that his chaotic whirlwind had caused.
Colter quietly cleared his throat and it shattered the moment, and for that you were grateful. Especially when you noticed Russell had been discreetly moving closer to you. You moved away a bit, making Russellâs jaw tighten and his eyes harden, and started after Yolanda. âWe should go,â you told Colter, happy to look upon him once again while you regained your bearings. âWeâve only got ten minutes and I really donât need an ass chewing from my supervisor because your brother has no game.âÂ
Colter smirked and followed after you. Russellâs jaw dropped and he appeared alongside you once more, keeping pace with you. âI have game!â
âNo, you donât,â you snorted, keeping your eyes straight ahead, unwilling to look at him.
âYes, I do. It worked on you once upon a time, didnât it?â
You leveled a menacing glare on him before turning to look at Colter on your other side. âWhy did you ask me to help you again?â
Colter pressed his lips together and decided to keep quiet, focusing on waiting for Yolanda to open the door to the morgue. âI appreciate everything youâre doing.â
Russell leaned closer and murmured to you, âI do, too. And Y/N, after we get out of here, why donât we go grab that drink I talked about? Just you and me? We can talk and catch up.â You turned your wide eyes onto him. Was he serious? He shot you a charming grin but you could also see the tiny gleam of hope in his gaze.
You ignored the familiar scent of his cologne as it wafted over you and you tamped down the painful memories it induced.
Colter looked like he would rather be anywhere else right then. You wished you were anywhere else right then. You turned your eyes forward, refusing to look at him anymore, not wanting to see any part of his reaction to what you were about to say. âYouâre both on a timeclock, remember?â You asked quietly. âAfter we get what we need, you should go to the spot that's next on your list or immediately chase down any leads. As for me, I have to get back to work.â You then surged ahead, standing right behind Yolanda and stepping into the room when she opened the door.
After a moment, you heard the brothers enter behind you and Colter muttered to Russell, âYou good?â
âYeah.â You nearly closed your eyes hearing that tone that you were starting to hate once more. âSo close.â This time, when he echoed the words from before, there was no false bravado attached to them, no playfulness or humor, only what you detected as regret.Â
This time, Colter didnât say anything in response. Both brothers joined you and you all watched as Yolanda selected a drawer and slid it out. Feeling Russell next to you, you swore to yourself that this would be the last time you would take a call from Colter for a long time. While you liked the younger Shaw, it was the older Shaw you didnât want to chance running into ever again.Â
You stared ahead as Yolanda unzipped the body bag, tensing as you felt the sleeve of Russellâs jacket unintentionally brush against you. So close? Too close.
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Russell watching you intently, his expression serious and that regretful look in his eyes once more. You forced your gaze back to the woman reminding you of your ten minute window, refusing to allow any sympathy for the older man on your left. You hadnât been the one to ruin things between you; youâd only been left to pick up the pieces. You were done feeling sorry for Russell Shaw.Â
You took the report Yolanda offered to you before she left and began flipping through it, skimming the text, as Colter took a closer look at the body. From your peripherals, Russell stared at you a moment longer and then moved to stand next to his brother, their backs to you. Sadly, a familiar sight of the man youâd once loved. You blinked away rapidly forming tears and went back to reading.
As much as you hated to admit it, Russell had been right. So close indeed.
dividers by @firefly-graphics
#russell shaw x reader#russell shaw x female reader#russell shaw x y/n#thebiggerbear writes#so close#russell shaw fanfiction
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The Past đ Atlas
My hand is resting on Ashâs chest as we lie together in comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The quiet is soothing and Iâm grateful he doesnât feel the need to fill it with conversation, that we can just be here together.
Slowly, I begin tracing my fingers lightly across his collarbone, then up his arm stretched over his head, and back again. He closes his eyes and smiles contentedly, so I continue, brushing my fingertips back across his chest and down his abdomen.
His skin is so soft and pale, it reminds me of the flowering dogwoods that would bloom in spring at the park near the house where I grew up. I read about them in school once and became fascinated by them. I would sit in the grass underneath them and run my fingers along the white petal-like blossoms, examining the tiny flowers at their center.
I make a mental note to tell Ash about them sometime. I bet heâd love them, want to study them and draw them.
The velvety texture of his skin is contrasted by a coarse trail of jet-black hair. I follow the trail down, stopping as my hand grazes past two small scars low on his belly, just inside his hips. âWhat are these from?â I ask.
He glances down briefly and then rests his head back, âTheyâre from a hysterectomy.â
âOh. So, you canâtâ?â
âMm-mm, you canât get me pregnant or anything.â
âGood to know. So, if you want kids one day, youâd just have to adopt?â
âNot necessarily. I had my eggs frozen, just in case. So, I could have a biological child, Iâd just need a surrogate.â
âReally? Do you think youâll do it? Have kids?â
âOh, god, I donât know. I had them stored for ten years, so I have plenty of time to decide. Itâs not really something Iâm worried about right now.â
âMakes sense,â I whisper as my hand resumes its journey, brushing my fingertips up and down one thigh and then the other before making my way back up again, all the way up to his face, turning it gently toward me. When he opens his eyes again, before I can stop myself, I say, âAsh, youâre perfect, you know that?â
His eyebrows stitch together in a pained expression, âAtlasâŠâ
I know. I know itâs not fair. I canât say things like that if weâre âjust friendsâ. He doesnât have to tell me. Itâs written all over his face. But look at us, weâve already crossed so many lines tonight that the walls Iâd built up are crumbling around me, and Iâm not ready to put them back. Not yet. Not tonight. So, even if I shouldnât, I have to ask, âWill you stay? Will you sleep here tonight?â
Putting his arms around me, he smiles, âYeah, of course Iâll stay.â
âThank you,â I exhale, relieved. "Can I get you anything? Do you want some water?"
âYes, actually, that would be amazing.â
âOkay, Iâll go get some.â
âThanks. And, um, can I use your bathroom?â
âYeah, itâs just out the door to your left.â
In the kitchen, I drink down a large glass of water in one breath, practically gasping by the time I finish it. As I refill it, along with a second glass for Ash, I turn my head slightly to smell myself⊠just in case. Thankfully, I donât stink yet, but Iâve accumulated enough layers of sweat throughout the night that Iâm certain Iâll be ripe by morning.
I glance at the bathroom door, debating, wondering if itâs a step too far, too intimate, but decide to ask him anyway.
When the door opens, I walk over to meet him on his way out. Â I hand him the glass of water and he drinks it nearly as quickly as I did. âThank you,â he says, breathless.
âAre you tired?â I ask.
âNot really, why?â
âDo you want to take a shower with me?â
âThat shower?â he points to the door he just came out of, âIs there even enough room for two people?â
âNot really,â I shake my head with a smile, knowing itâs ridiculous, but still hoping he says yes.
He considers for a moment, searching my face as if heâs waiting for me to tell him Iâm joking. When I donât, he replies with a shrug, âFuck it, sure.â
Some find it strange, but I enjoy showering with people. Itâs intimate in its own way. I mean, aside from the obvious, like being naked in a small space not really meant for two people, placing hands on an arm or waist or back as we maneuver around each other. That has its own pleasures too, of course, but I like getting a glimpse into peopleâs routines, their daily habits. All those little things that no one else notices, or pays attention to, or has the privilege of witnessing. Like the way Ash never puts his face under the water. He tips his head back to rinse it, gets right up to the hairline, but no farther, ensuring gravity prevents the water from running down over his face.
When I ask him why, he says, âI donât like it. It makes me feel like Iâm drowning.â And then I understand. I remember the story he told me about nearly drowning in the ocean, how he was caught in the undertow when he was a child, how he would have died if it wasnât for his mother.
We laugh as we awkwardly squeeze past each other, trading places so I can rinse my hair. As I stand under the water and close my eyes, I feel him place his hands gently on my abdomen, slowly tracing the lines of the muscle just below the surface with his fingertips. âJesus, look at you,â he says, âmaybe I should take up rock climbing.â
I let out a small laugh, âItâs fun. I could teach you.â
âNah, I donât think itâs for me. Itâs a shame you ever have to put clothes on, though.â
âNot tonight, I donât.â I shut off the water quickly and then turn back to him, âI wonât if you wonât.â
âDeal.â He answers a little too quickly, and then adds, âNot that I have anything to wear anyway.â
âI wouldâve given you something if you wanted. Too late now, though.â
He laughs as I hop out to grab a couple of towels.
After drying off, I walk over to the sink and grab a fresh toothbrush from the cabinet below. Itâs brand new and still in the package. I hold it up to show it to him and then set it on the counter, âIf you want,â I say before grabbing my own toothbrush and running it under the water.
He picks it up and raises his eyebrows a me, âYou do this often enough that you keep these on hand, huh?â
I shake my head to reassure him, âNo, theyâre Dawnâs. Sheâs super weird about brushing her teeth all the time. Sheâs almost always carrying one around. Thereâs like ten of them down there, she wonât care if you take one.â
âThank you,â he says sincerely as he opens the package and discards it in the trash. He squeezes toothpaste along the bristles, but then stops and looks up at me.
âWhat?â I ask.
âNothing. Youâre just⊠youâre really nice.â I canât quite read the expression on his face when he says this, itâs almost as if the sentiment makes him sad.
In a pitiful attempt to lighten the mood, I tell him, âWell, if it makes you feel any better, itâs purely selfish.â
He gives me a small smile, âOh yeah? My breath is that bad?â
âNo, I just want you to be comfortable. Because the more comfortable you are, the longer youâll stay.â Instinctually, I lean over and kiss his forehead. I donât know why, it just felt natural to do so, like Iâd done it a hundred times before. As soon as my lips graze his skin, I know that I have. I see it. Many times, in many different places I donât recognize. On a couch or in a bed or even standing on a beach. It feels so real that it takes me aback. Â I pull away and he looks up at me with that same look in his eyes.
âIâm sorry,â I tell him, knowing now whatâs making him sad. Iâm not acting like a friend; Iâm acting like a boyfriend. And we both know I canât give him that. Though, Iâm starting to have trouble remembering why. Seems like itâs taking more effort not to. âWe should get some sleep,â I say, suddenly feeling exhausted.
âYeah, Iâll be there in a minute,â he replies, and then turns away to brush his teeth.
I put fresh glasses of water by the bed, turn off the lamp, and lie down, turning to face the wall because I donât know what Iâll do if Iâm facing him when he comes to bed. I donât trust myself, and I feel like Iâve done enough damage already. Heâs probably upset with me, and I wouldnât blame him if he changed his mind and decided to leave.
I prepare myself for the worst when he finally comes in, but he surprises me by getting into bed, scooting over to me, and pressing his entire body against the length of mine. He wraps his arm around me and squeezes me tight, kissing the back of my shoulder. I donât know why heâs chosen to be so sweet to me, but Iâm grateful for it. I close my eyes and allow myself to relax into him as I drift off to sleep.
Prev // Next
#the desire to stay in their little bubble for as long as possible#but also knowing it can't last forever#at least that what he believes#cracks are forming in his logic tho#ts4#ts4 simblr#ts4 story#sims 4#sims 4 storytelling#sims 4 challenge#starsignchallenge#starsignlegacychallenge#gen1 aries#aries pt4#past#atlas stephens#asher goode
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In The Silence : part 2
The case had been brutal, the kind that clings to the mind long after itâs over, weighing heavily on everyoneâs spirits. It was close to midnight, and you sat alone in the hotel bar nursing a drink, the dim lighting casting shadows across the room. You had tried to sleep, but rest wouldnât comeânot when you knew Spencer was just down the hall, oblivious to the heartbreak he had caused.
You sighed, the memory of his gentle rejection still fresh, still raw. Weeks had passed since that conversation, and youâd done everything possible to focus on work and distance yourself, to bury the ache of his words and the hollow emptiness they left. Yet every time you looked at him, you felt it all over again. It was as though every shared glance, every professional exchange, only served to remind you of what you could never have.
âCanât sleep either?â A soft voice broke the silence, and you turned to find Spencer standing a few feet away. His face was drawn, exhaustion settling into the delicate lines around his eyes. He gave a tentative smile, one that you struggled to return.
âYeah,â you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. âI guess tonightâs one of those nights.â
He took a seat next to you, and for a moment, the silence between you grew heavy, thick with unspoken words. You could feel his eyes on you, as if he were trying to read your thoughts. If he noticed the shadows under your eyes, the quiet resignation in your gaze, he didnât say anything. Instead, he simply ordered a coffee, his presence warm and familiar despite the awkwardness that still lingered.
You wanted to leave, to save yourself the agony of sitting so close to him, of pretending that everything was okay. But you couldnât move. Maybe it was the tiredness, or maybe it was that last shred of hope that refused to die, that somehow being near him would fill the emptiness inside you.
After a long pause, he finally spoke. âAre you⊠holding up alright?â The question was so soft it almost got lost in the quiet murmur of the bar. There was genuine concern in his eyes, but it only made things harder.
âIâm fine,â you said, forcing a smile that didnât reach your eyes. âItâs just⊠the case, I guess. And everything else.â
He nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. âI understand. These things⊠they can weigh on you.â
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away from him. The last thing you wanted was for him to see through the thin walls you had built, to notice the tremble in your hands or the way your voice wavered with barely restrained emotion.
âYeah,â you replied, your voice cracking. âIt just⊠sometimes, it feels like too much.â
Spencer shifted closer, his presence a silent comfort. âYou know, you donât have to carry it alone.â
You clenched your fists under the table, the words coming out before you could stop them. âBut what if I am alone?â
The bitterness in your tone surprised even you, and you immediately regretted it. But Spencer was watching you, his gaze intent, a hint of something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
âDo you really feel that way?â he asked quietly, his voice gentle.
You swallowed, unable to meet his eyes. âSometimes, yeah. Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I try, it doesnât change anything. Like Iâm⊠invisible.â
The silence that followed was heavy, the weight of your confession hanging between you. You could feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them back, refusing to break in front of him. Not again.
Spencerâs hand rested on the table, inches from yours. For a brief, reckless moment, you thought he might reach for you, offer some comfort. But he stayed where he was, his expression somber, his gaze full of understanding that somehow only deepened the ache in your chest.
âYouâre not invisible,â he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper. âNot to me.â
The words were gentle, sincere, and they cut deeper than anything else. Because for all his kindness, for all the comfort his presence provided, it didnât change the fact that he could never feel the same way. He saw you, but he didnât love you. And that knowledge was a hollow echo that would haunt you long after this night was over.
You looked down, your voice barely a whisper. âBut it doesnât matter, does it? Not when itâs⊠not the same.â
Spencerâs face fell, his eyes clouded with a sadness that mirrored your own. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he simply looked at you, the weight of your unrequited feelings settling between you like a chasm that couldnât be crossed.
âIâm sorry,â he finally whispered, and those two words shattered what little composure you had left.
You nodded, your heart breaking all over again. âI know,â you replied, voice shaking.
The silence stretched on, the unspoken truth hanging in the air, painful and unyielding. There was nothing left to say, nothing that could ease the hurt or make things right. And as you sat there, alone in the quiet hum of the bar, you realized that some wounds couldnât be healed with words. Some things were simply meant to be carried, no matter how heavy the weight.
Without another word, you stood, your heart aching with every step as you left Spencer behind, the echo of his apology following you into the empty night.
Iâm so glad you guys enjoyed the first part! This one is a bit shorter, but part 3 is coming soon!
#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#dr spencer reid#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds angst#spencer reid criminal minds
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Hi there! Found your account through a moot and wanted to maybe request a Sam x nephilim!reader where he finds out that she had been keeping that she was a nephilim a secret to try and protect him, but the truth comes out when they're on a hunt together? Maybe with established relationship?
Heaven Hellbent- Sam Winchester x Nephilim!Reader
Summary: When a hunt goes wrong, Sam discovers a secret you've been keeping for years. Part 1 of the series!
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: F!reader! Canon-level violence and language!
A/N: THANKS SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE ON THIS! I literally loved this request so much but really desperately wanted to do it justice, so it took me a little while. Seriously, this was one of my most re-written fics so far. I really wanted to finally get something out to you, but I have a lot more to write on this topic so I AM MAKING IT A SERIES!! This is a bit out of canon context but I really really hope you still enjoy, thank you again for such an amazing prompt and for your patience!
Ever since you had come into Sam's life, things felt lighter. You were this warm, radiating presence that had wrapped itself around every facet of his life. Sometimes, when you lay together late at night, when he would trace your body with his fingers and plant soft kisses on your forehead, he would silently pray- he still did that from time to time- addressing God, fate, the universe, or sometimes simply to whom it may concern, thanking anyone he could for the miracle of you.Â
You were one of the most skilled hunters Sam had ever encountered. It felt like even having your presence on a hunt was an asset- when you were around, cases were solved quicker, monsters went down easier, and everyone walked away with far fewer injuries. He expressed this to you once, in your early years together.
âIt just feels like everything clicks when youâre around. How is it that you make everything so easy?â He had asked you, eyes so full of admiration and innocence. Sweet, clueless Sammy.Â
âHmm, I must be a pretty serious good luck charm then, sweetheart. Better keep me around,â you had purred, eliminating the space that separated you in a sensual attempt to change the subject.Â
Sam chuckled. âI like to think of you as our little guardian angel. My little angel.â Sam ducked down, meeting your lips with a soft, open-mouthed kiss, but not before his words sent a pang of anxiety through your body. It took a moment for you to reciprocate Samâs kiss- you had to focus all your energy on keeping the lump that had formed in your throat from spilling to the surface.
Hiding your true identity from Sam was the hardest thing you had ever done, and yet the easiest choice you had ever made. You had been with him for years and had watched him and Dean go through so many horrible things. There were so many times you had wished you could step in- so many nightmares that could have been avoided if you had used your powers. But being a nephilim, you couldnât. Because if you had, you wouldâve had Heaven hellbent on your trail. And not just yours- anyone you had ever known or loved. Just the knowledge of your existence was a ticking time bomb, and the last thing you wanted to do was put yet another target on either Winchesterâs back.Â
It wasnât without hard work that you had gone unnoticed this long. Keeping under the radar had been much easier before you had met Sam. You had spent more years than you could count traveling, reading, learning, anything to fill your seemingly endless time. You didnât use your powers, didnât meddle in matters of Heaven or Hell, you just kept a low profile. That was, until you crossed paths with two of the highest profiles out there- Sam and Dean Winchester.
Falling in love with Sam was the last thing you had ever planned to do. But the more time you spent with him, the more you were drawn to him. You marveled at the fact that anyone could meet him and not fall in love- a man so inherently good, so kind, practically an angel in his own right. Sometimes, it felt as though there were three forces that worked to keep you alive- your soul, your grace, and your love for Sam Winchester, all three intertwined, braided together to tether you to the Earth.Â
So you stayed. You fought alongside Sam and Dean through every battle they faced. You did everything you could, finding ways to use your powers that would go undetected- by heaven and by the Winchesters. You could weaken demons and cast protection towards the boys, speed their healing subtly so that they wouldnât notice. But there would be times when it would be far too dangerous to even let a glimpse of your powers show. Those were times that you would watch in agony as the man you loved faced horrors beyond your imagination. And those were the times you swore to protect him whenever you possibly could.Â
Sometimes, however, things wouldnât go to plan. You and the Winchesters were hunting a demon that had been causing trouble in a nearby town. Dean had suggested the three of you split up to try to catch the demon by surprise. You had protested, but the moment he barked the order, him and Sam had split, leaving you behind. You cursed to yourself, silently willing that you would find the demon first so you could smite him with ease and not risk either brotherâs safety.Â
Unfortunately, it hadnât quite worked out that way. It had been well over an hour with no luck as you searched the stretch of abandoned warehouses. And neither you nor Dean could reach Samâs phone. Fear set into your heart, a cocktail of worry and grace coursing through your veins. Your whole body was buzzing- normally, you would stop to calm it to avoid revealing yourself, but a horrible intuition left you no choice but to use it as fuel.
Meanwhile, Samâs eyes blinked open, the dull pain in his head sharpening as he regained contact with his senses. There was a rope tied around him, anchoring him to a rickety chair and rubbing abrasively against his biceps.Â
âSam Winchester. Good to see ya, champ. Rare to find you without your partner in crime these days.â Blinking back the spots in his vision, Samâs eyes focused on the man in front of him- scratch that, the demon, as revealed by a quick flash of black.
Sam, struggling against his restraints, retorted. âDean will be here-âÂ
âWho said anything about Dean?â The demon cut him off, cocking his head. âIâm talking about your other little⊠friend. Howâs it been, running all around town with that pet abomination of yours?â His smile was sickening, and there was something sinister about his words. He knew something Sam didnât, and that was never a good thing.
âWhat are you talking about,â Sam hissed through clenched teeth.
âNice try, Sam. Better get talking.â The demon sent Samâs chair flying back into the wall to punctuate his command.
âI donât know what the hell youâre talking about.â The demon pulled Samâs chair back to him.
âOh, you really donât know? Scoutâs honor?â He paced a lap around Sam, lurking over him as spite radiated off his every stride. âThat crafty little bitch. Thatâs too bad, I was hoping to ask you a few questions⊠I guess I have no use for you, but why not break the news before I kill you? Secrets donât make friends, right?â He knelt, drawing himself eye to eye with Sam, before practically spitting the words. âThat pretty little girlfriend of yours is really a-âÂ
Before the demon could finish the thought, he was flat against the wall and screaming his way back to Hell. Sam, still tied to the chair, had a view limited to the empty room in front of him and the vessel the demon once possessed, now slumped in a pile on the floor. He released a breath, having watched the danger dissipate, before tensing back up. Whatever was behind him was powerful. He could feel every hair standing up on the back of his neck as his pulse began to pick up rapidly. Something was screaming inside him, begging him to get out, get away.Â
âOh, Sammy. This wasnât supposed to happen this way,â called the creature from behind him. The words hung heavy in the air, tinged with heartbreak. Sam froze. He knew the origin of the voice, but it couldnât be. He whispered your name and you came running.Â
âSam, sweetheart. Are you okay?â You knelt to the floor in front of him, unsheathing your knife to cut away his binds.Â
Sam simply stared in response, mouth slightly agape and confusion nestling into his furrowed brow. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.
âCatâs out of the bag, I guess. Iâm sorry. I really didnât want it to happen this way.â Guilt weighed heavy on you, as if you had done something horribly wrong. No, it was always to keep him safe, you reminded yourself.Â
Sam sat dumbfounded a moment longer. âWhat are you?â he finally coughed out. It was as if asking the question had triggered his brain to process the situation, and he tensed in preemptive self-defense.Â
This was it. No going back now. âIâm a nephilim, Sam.â Saying the words out loud felt like lifting the world off your own shoulders and watching it crash down all around you.
Your confession melted Samâs expression into a series of reactions. You watched him work through the idea as if he was tossing your heart back and forth in his hands, weighing its pros and cons.Â
âPlease tell me you understand why I didnât tell you, Sam. Why I couldnât-â
Samâs tone was tense- his lack of reaction almost made things worse. âThereâs no way you didnât tell me about this. Iâve- weâve known you for-â
âFor years, Sam! Before you knew there were even angels, before Dean went to Hell, before you had any idea about the bigger picture! That just goes to show you, Sam- Iâm not part of any of this! Iâve kept my head down for thousands of years, not raising any flags or drawing any attention to myself. And then I met you- I met you and I had to love you, Sam, I had to. And then I had to watch you go through so much pain and suffering and all I wanted to do was help however I could but I-â
âBut you couldnât. Because it would put you in danger.â If Sam had landed on a stance, you sure couldnât decipher it. His voice was soft and gentle, but his jaw flexed and his expression narrowed. Â
âIt would put you in danger too, Sam. And Dean. And everyone else.â Your response was quick, calculated. You had played this conversation out too many times in your head. Except you never had thought very far beyond the why didnât you tell me and into the well what the hell do we do now?Â
There was silence for a beat.
âThe demon knew.â Sam spoke somberly, like he was hand-delivering you a death sentence.
âAnd now you know,â you contended, defeated. A heartbroken breath wracked through your body, shuddering out of your lungs as you stabilized yourself to avoid teetering over. It was like the wind had been knocked out of you- like you and the man you loved most in the whole world had been plucked from safety and tossed out into open season.
âSo what does this mean?â Samâs tone sat on the fence between concern for your apparent emotions and the fear and confusion that had characterized the rest of your exchange.Â
âIt means you canât tell a soul, Sam. Not Dean, not anyone. Anyone who knows is at risk. And it means I⊠should probably leave.â Your stomach churned as you spoke. All of your worst fears were materializing in front of you. Try as you might, even your powers couldnât zap them away. Your eyes rose to meet Samâs, and finally, you could read his expression with clarity.
âNo,â Sam shook his head.
âSam, I canât put you in danger-â
âAnd I canât lose you!â You recoiled at his outburst. âI canât lose you.â The second utterance was softer, bearing a greater resemblance to the sweet words Sam often shared with you.Â
âSam, if anyone finds outâŠâ you pleaded. As much as it broke your heart, you couldnât bear to put Sam in any more danger.
âThey wonât. Tell me what I need to do, and Iâll do it.â Samâs gaze was intense as he studied you. It was as if he was learning you all over again- like you were someone brand new to him. And yet, you could still see the love in his eyes. You were still you, after all. This was just a new layer of you. Sam had promised to love you, all of you. And if nothing else, he was a man of his word. He lifted a hand to your cheek and ran a thumb over your cheekbone, as if maybe you might feel different under his touch. And when you didnât, his last scraps of hesitance melted away. Tears welled in your eyes.Â
âJust⊠promise me not to tell Dean until we figure this out.â
âPromise not to tell me what?â
#sam winchester x reader#sam x reader#sam winchester angst#sam winchester x f!reader#sam winchester x you#supernatural angst#sam winchester#sam winchester fanfiction#supernatural x reader#sam winchester fic#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester oneshot#spn fanfiction#supernatural oneshot#sam winchester imagine#supernatural sam winchester#spn sam winchester#supernatural#sam winchester supernatural#spn fanfic
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30 hours J. H.
Pairing: Jay Halstead x female!reader
Warnings: mention of injuries and violence, swearing, slight mention of blood, kidnapping, possible bad writing and mistakes
Wordcount: 4,076
A/N: please be kind, this is the first oneshot I wrote in a year or two and I am still super unhappy with this, but keep working on it would just make it worse I think. And my friends said I should just post it, so ⊠Also, English is not my first language, please keep that in mind while reading. I hope youâll like it anyway
Now without further ado⊠I present to you:
30 hours
You rub your face sleepily as you slowly wake up.
As you feel the weight of an arm around your waist, you can't help but smile.
You turn to Jay, whose arm is pressing you against him.
What started as a friendship has become so much more. And yesterday he finally asked you to marry him.
Gently you trace the contours of his face with your finger. Memories of last night come flooding back and you bite your lower lip as you think of Jay treating you to a little corner cafe before you took a walk along the Chicago River and him finally getting down on one knee in front of you.
Your eyes fall on the beautiful silver ring with the little stone set in it, on your finger.
"Morning," you say as you see Jay waking up.
"Morning," he replies in a raspy voice, giving you a smile that takes your breath away. "Sleep well?"
You nod before reaching a little further towards him and placing your lips on his.
God, you still can't believe that this wonderful man is now your fiancé.
Happily, you smile into the kiss and slightly part your lips for him. You feel his tongue gently nudging against yours and you feel yourself catapulted right back to last night. What his tongue had done to you...
You can't hold back a soft moan at the memory and you feel his knowing smile in your kiss.
As it becomes more intimate, Jay rolls over you and....
Your kiss is abruptly interrupted when a cell phone rings somewhere in the room.
Last night, on the way from the door to the bedroom, you had spread your clothes anywhere in the flat. His trousers had apparently made it into the bedroom.
"Don't answer it," you plead, wrapping your arms around his neck, knowing it's Jay's phone because Intelligence most likely has a new lead in the current case and he needs to get to the precinct. "Let's just stay in bed for a week," you suggest, with little hope of agreement, though.
Jay leans down a little towards you and kisses you intimately again for a few seconds before pulling away and going in search of his jeans. "As tempting as that sounds, I'm afraid I can't do that."
You sit up with a sigh as he gets out of bed and fishes the phone out of his pocket.
As expected, there's a new lead that needs to be followed up.
So you get up to make breakfast to go for him as he heads into the bathroom for a quick shower.
Wearing only one of Jay's t-shirts, you are standing at the kitchen counter pouring coffee into a to-go mug when you feel your fiancé standing behind you.
His hands are on your hips as he plants a kiss on your cheek.
"My angel," he murmurs and you turn your head so that your lips meet. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"
"Once or twice..." you reply with a smirk.
"So not often enough."
You press the sandwich and the to-go mug of coffee into his hand and push him towards the door.
"I love you, too. And now you have to go. Work needs to be done."
It's Saturday, so you don't have to work and can devote yourself to other things, like grocery shopping or housekeeping.
Jay steals one last kiss before disappearing out the door with a "love you".
Heavens, even though you've known each other for five years and been a couple for three, you're still as much in love with this man as you were at the beginning of your relationship.
At first it was hard for you to come to terms with the fact that Jay often has to work late and sometimes he has to leave just because of work. But by now you've come to terms with it and Jay always makes it up to you in one way or another. Either with a romantic date, or little presents he gives you, and of course with the love he gives you every single day.
Lost in thought, you finally make your way to the supermarket. But soon you wish you had just stayed in bed with Jay.
"Y/N?", you hear an unknown voice behind you and turn around in confusion.
You don't know the man standing in front of you. But he seemed to know your name. He held out a wallet to you. "You just lost this," he says.
Unsure, you take it from him and look inside. Indeed, it contains your driver's license, your bank card, cash... and yet it is not your wallet. You've never seen this thing before in your life.
What the fuck?
You are about to reply that it is not your wallet when everything happens really fast. A black van pulls up next to you and the man who handed you the wallet before now pushes you backwards so that you lose your balance. Someone behind you catches you and you are finally thrown into the van. Your head hits the wall and an unpleasant hammering makes its way to the back of your head.
Doors slam and two seconds later the van speeds on.
It takes you a few seconds to realize what has just happened.
You have just been kidnapped.
That afternoon, Jay comes home in excitement at the sight of his fiancée in his arms again.
The current case, which has kept them on the go for a fortnight and got Jay out of bed this morning, has now been solved and he just wants to be with you, eat something and sleep.
But when he enters the flat, you are not there.
He checks all the rooms in the flat, but you are not to be found.
Are you with friends and forgot to tell him? Normally you always let him know if you're meeting someone, because you know that otherwise his detective brain will spin banal theories about what might have happened to you.
With a frown, he pulls out his mobile phone and tries to call you. But he is sent straight to voicemail. After the third attempt, he gives up and calls your best friend instead, deeply hoping that you are with her, or at least that she knows where you are.
But with her, too, nothing.
Now Jay is really worried.
Worried, he calls Ruzek, who is a good friend of yours and through whom you and Jay met in the first place, hoping that he is still in the bullpen for paperwork.
Jay was lucky.
"Hey man, what is it?" asked Adam exuberantly.
"Can you ping Y/N's phone? She's not there, I can't reach her, and I don't have a good feeling about this."
"Just a minute," Adam replies, recognising the concern and urgency in Jay's voice.
Shortly afterwards, Adam gives an address of where your cell phone was the last time before it was turned off.
With a quick thank you and a promise to let him know when he has found you, the two colleagues and friends on the phone say goodbye and Jay gets back into his truck to drive to the address.
It wasn't far and as he got out his heart stopped for a moment.
A wallet with your drivers licence is lying on the small footpath of the side street and a few metres away is your phone, the screen shattered. There are black tyre marks on the road from a sharp braking.
Jay pulls out his phone again and calls Adam for a second time.
"Found her?" he asks hopefully, but Jay doesn't even let him speak. "Y/N's been kidnapped."
Jay knows his colleague has just sat up straighter.
"Jay, are you sure?"
"Yes." Jay describes what he sees in front of him and then asks Adam to call the team together.
Less than fifteen minutes later they were all standing on the scene.
"Okay, you know what to do, check PODs, residents' CCTV and ask residents if they saw anything. Jay's girlfriend, one of ours, has been kidnapped. And we're going to get that asshole!" the sergeant ordered his team before putting a comforting hand on Jay's shoulder and saying, "We're going to find Y/N and she's going to get through this. She's tough. You'll see your girlfriend again."
"Fiancée, to be exact," Jay replies, but Voight hadn't heard him anymore.
Back in the bullpen, with all the evidence and statements from the residents, they create a board with all the facts so far. Photos of the skid marks, the wallet and the mobile phone. In the middle hangs a photo of the victim. He has seen this board so many times before, with disturbing and nightmare-inducing images. But now it is different.
Worse. Creepier. Because this time there's a photo of you hanging there.
Jay is standing in front of it, looking at it.
The photo doesn't do you justice, he thinks. The sparkle in your eyes is not there and the smile on your lips is nowhere near as beautiful as he knows it. Everything seems so dull and lifeless ...
An elderly lady watched the abduction from her kitchen window, but thought nothing more of it. However, she was already somewhat demented. Therefore, her statement is less reliable, but her description, apart from a few exceptions, matches those of the other residents of the street.
According to her, a man spoke to you, then a black van appeared, then flew away and you were gone.
Jay ran an agitated hand through his hair. He had to concentrate now. Intelligence had already solved a case with less clues, so they could solve this one too.
At the stroke of midnight, his phone buzzes, showing that he has received a video message.
He plays it while the others look over his shoulder.
There you sit tied to a chair with your cheek visibly reddened and a small gash on your cheekbone.
"Jay. The three wankers in front of me ..." you get kicked in the shin as you insult your captors as wankers and you curse a soft "ouch" before continuing. "Anyway, they want you to turn yourself in, Jay. A trade. I get released and they take you in exchange. In 30 hours, you'll ... what? I can't read the scribbling ...â your look shifts to one of your captors. âIf you're going to make me read rubbish like that, at least write it neatly enough so I can read it dramatically ..." you grumble, and Adam has to suppress a snort. It would be funny if it wasn't so serious.
One of the kidnappers gave the address you couldn't read before. "Right there... That's where you'll be standing in thirty hours, unarmed. They will release me and take you with them. Should you not do it, they will kill me."
Your eyes shift from what you are supposed to be reading out and you look at one of your captors. "Oh, go bury yourselves, or throw yourselves in front of a train, I don't mind ..." You wrinkle your nose slightly at the last sentence.
Then one of the kidnappers speaks again, "Detective, follow our instructions or your little friend will die. Know that this is revenge for the death of my brother."
While the kidnapper is still speaking, you shout, "Jay, don't do it! Don't make the trade!"
You catch a slap, your head flies from the punch to the side, and then the video ends.
It's only when he exhales now that Jay realises he's been holding his breath. As did the rest of the team.
Adam made the comment that you're pretty brave to be so defiant to the kidnappers. Or you're tired of living. It's going to be one of those two.
Over the next few hours, Intelligence investigates whose brother it might be, who was capable of such a thing, and where those, as you called them, wankers, might be holding you.
But when nothing new comes of it, Voight sends everyone home for the time being to get some sleep and to be able to continue working in new freshness. After all, they still have 27 hours.
But Jay doesn't want to go home. He could never sleep there now.
In your bed, knowing that you're sitting somewhere kidnapped, tied to a chair....
Which is why Adam finally offers to take him with him, so that he can at least get a little sleep on the couch there.
20 hours until the exchange:
By now they've figured out who wants to see your fiancé suffer.
A few weeks ago Jay had shot someone, Paul Lancaster to be precise, on a case after he in turn had opened fire on him.
Jay had escaped with a bruise at the time due to the vest, but Paul had died on the way to hospital. He had hit well.
Now Paul's brother, Jeremy Lancaster, seemed to want revenge on him and this man had quite an interesting sheet. Jeremy had been charged several times for smaller felonies and had served two years in Stateville for aggravated assault. But even though Intelligence now knows who's holding you, they still have no clue where Jeremy and his two accomplices might be holding you.
Frustrated, Jay now throws a stack of papers against the wall and rubs his face in dissolution.
He's on the verge of giving up, of just turning himself in. He'd rather die than let them hurt you more than they already do.
They went through everything again, repeated all the residents' statements, looked at all the traffic camera recordings, but they got nowhere. The van had disappeared at some point at a corner without video surveillance.
"Play the video again," Jay finally asks Kim, who is currently at her computer trying to draw any clues from it as to where you might be.
"Jay ..." she started, but he interrupted her and took it upon himself to play the video from the beginning.
At the end, when you wrinkle your nose, he pauses the video.
"There! Y/N always wrinkles her nose when she bluffs while playing. I always tease her about it ... because she looks so cute at that moment and it annoys her when I say that, ... that was a hint ... She was giving us a hint."
Kim rewinds a few seconds and plays it again.
Burying themselves ... jumping in front of a train ...
They play the video again and again.
"Train ... bury ... buried train ... underground!", Jay finally combines and writes it immediately on the case board.
Seventeen hours until the exchange:
If they didn't find you soon, Jay knew, he'd turn himself in. No matter what you had said, no matter what Voight will say. He can't let you get hurt.
There are seventeen hours left to find you, and Jay can barely think straight when they find out Jeremy is in an on-off relationship with an Angelina Perry. Maybe she can help.
God, Jay hoped so much.
Adam and Kim bring the girlfriend to the station and Jay watches the questioning through the mirror, his partner, Hailey standing beside him, watching him with concern. She knows how much Jay loves you. Every time Ruzek brings up one of the stories from your childhood and your name comes up, his eyes light up and a smile spreads across his face. But now there was nothing but worry and fear.
"What am I doing here? I don't know any Y/N," Angelina clarifies.
"But you know Jeremy Lancaster. Don't you?" asks Kim, unimpressed.
"Y-yes? Why? Did something happen to him?"
"No ...", Adam picks up, but Jay is no longer listening, because he has just received another video message.
Alarmed, he looks at Hailey, who nods once and finally gets Adam and Kim out of the interrogation room. Meanwhile, Jay gets Voight out of his office and has Kevin run the video from his phone onto the computer.
With held breath, the team watches the video.
You are still sitting in the chair with your head hanging, probably unconscious. Your hair hides the view at your face, but kindly Jeremy grabs your hair ungently and pulls it back so that he lifts your head and the team can see you properly. Your face is swollen and you have a laceration on your forehead, a bruise is starting to form on your left eye.
"Fuck!" curses Jay, even before Jeremy has begun to speak.
"Hello Detective. A real fighter you got yourself into, I'm looking forward to making you feel what I did to her before I shoot you in front of her like you shot my brother. Or would you prefer I shoot her in front of you?"
Jay's blood boils in his veins. He is so angry at this monster of a man called Jeremy Lancaster for laying a hand on you, an absolute innocent.
With his phone in hand, he storms into the interrogation room where Jeremy's girlfriend or ex-girlfriend or whatever is sitting.
With a slam, the door shuts behind Jay. Angelina flinches in fright and looks at the frustrated and distraught detective in front of her.
The rest of the team have followed him and are now watching through the one-sided mirror.
"You better tell me now where your boyfriend likes to hide. Because if he kills her, I'll hold you responsible too!" he threatens, knowing very well that he couldn't do that. But he just wants to have you back, to hold you in his arms again and hear from you that everything will be all right again.
With these words, he slams the mobile phone down on the table and lets the video play.
Angelina looks shocked and tears glisten in her eyes as she watches the video.
"That ... that's Jeremy? Wh-why?"
"His brother Paul messed up and got himself killed. Jeremy blames me and has been holding my fiancée for over 13 hours now. God knows what he's doing to her. And every minute that goes by, he could hurt her. So if you don't want to be responsible for murder, you'd better think really hard about where your boyfriend could be hiding with her!" he rages and Angelina flinches again, however Jay can see that she is starting to think.
The team, watching the whole thing through the mirrored glass, are quite flummoxed. Did Jay just say you were his fiancée?
They all caught your complicated love story, how Jay initially thought you and Adam were a couple and ended up with Erin. How you buried your crush on Jay deep inside when you found out. How you then held him when Erin left, dumped him, and how you both had to get your asses kicked by Kevin and Kim first before you confessed your love to each other.
They know how much Jay loves you and how much you love him. And they have taken you to their hearts as well. As Voight had said, you are one of them, even if you don't work for them. You are their friend. It takes all the more out of them now to know that Jay is not only about to lose his fiancée, but that they could lose their friend.
"Did he ever say anything about an underground or anything?" His voice was no longer loud and threatening now, but quiet and desperate.
One could see it in Angelina's face as she thought of something before she said, "The old underground warehouse...he...he told me once that when he was a kid he used to play in the factory hall with his brother. Maybe that's where they are ... he is ... was ... really close with his brother." With that said, she looks hopefully at the detective in front of her. He nods and finally leaves the interrogation room.
The team leaves the room at the same time as Jay, from where they have been watching everything.
They would all like to say something to him, but they all know that nothing they could say would make anything better.
Sixteen hours until the exchange:
The team storms the building from all three entrances.
Jay and Hailey, Kevin and Kim, and Adam and Voight.
Flash grenades are thrown, "Chicago PD! Drop your weapon! ... Hands in the air! ... on your knees!" are shouted from all sides and Jeremy and his two accomplices had to admit defeat.
Jay's gaze wanders searchingly down the hall and ....
There you lie. On the floor, hands and feet still tied to the fucking chair, not moving. From his position he cannot see if you are still breathing. Your hair covers your face, but you seem unconscious. At least Jay hopes you are only unconscious and nothing more.
God, he hopes so badly that you're still alive.
While the rest of the team arrest Jeremy and his accomplices, Jay gets down on his knees next to you, unties you and frees you from the goddamn chair. You don't move and anxiously he feels your pulse.
It is there, but very weak. But he can't feel relief yet, because as he brushes your hair out of your face, his examining gaze sees not only your wrists, chafed and blue from the ropes, but also your face. A nasty wound is emblazoned on your forehead. One half of your face is covered in blood, the other is red, swollen and a black eye is already forming. What had they done to you?
"Fuck ...", he curses softly and searches frantically for something to press carefully onto the wound.
By now Adam is standing next to him. In his face the same concern as in Jay's when he sees your bruised body and your hair, which is sticky with your blood but still shines moistly. "5021-Ida, shots fired by the offender and the police, offender in custody, one female victim down, multiple trauma to the head and body, roll an ambo to my current location asap," he quickly relays through his radio to the dispatcher.
You hadn't lost much blood yet, but head injuries were always treacherous.
Jay keeps mumbling that you should hang on. That an ambulance is on its way and that you should just hold on a little longer.
Seconds that feel like hours pass.
You hear Jay's voice as if from far away, begging you not to leave him, to open your eyes, to stay with him. You want to follow his plea so much that it seems to tear you apart, but your body no longer obeys you. Several times you try to speak, to say that you hear him, that you are there after all and that you are not planning to go anywhere else. But nothing. Not a single sound comes from your lips. You can't even move your fingers to show that you are still alive, that you can hear him....
Instead, you fight the complete blackness that threatens to overwhelm you. You cling to the love you feel for Jay where you know he returns it. You cling to his voice that seems to fade.
They always say that when you die, a warm white light appears to you, awaiting and welcoming you.
But it is the other way around. The light that holds you begins to shrink and is taken over further and further by the darkness, the blackness, the nothingness. Jay's voice is further and further away. You can barely hear him, barely understand what he is saying. And yet you know that he still commands you to hang on and tells you how much he loves you and can't lose you, that he needs you.
Then suddenly you hear female voices reciting foreign words. "V-fib" is the last thing you hear before there's nothing left. Just the empty, lonely, cold, blackness and you. You wonder if this is what death feels like.
At least you could die knowing what true love feels like. What it feels like to love someone more than yourself and to be loved just as much.
You had the chance to meet Jay and those few years with him were the best of your life.
Jay ...
Your last thought belongs to him, to him alone, and that yesterday morning you didn't say the last "I love you" back.
And then there was nothing. No light, no thought, no blackness. Just nothing.
back to masterlist
#jay halstead#chicago pd#jay halstead x reader#x reader#love#30 hours#short story#writing#fiction#imagine#writers on tumblr
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(Before I say anything this isnât meant to be hate this is just my thoughts)
I think the reasoning on why people are thinking you are romanticizing Ganymede and Zeusâs story is because youâre making it look like instead of making Ganymede scared of Zeus, it looks like Ganymede is proud to have been kidnapped by Zeus and that he wears a badge of being SA by Zeus. For example, in one of your drawings you said how Ganymede would react to one of Zeus's kids wanting to fight him to where Ganymede said that he had sex with their father, Zeus, making it sound like he was proud and not that affected by Zeusâs actions.
(Again, this is not hate; I'm just explaining what might have caused people to think you're romanticizing Zeus's and Ganymede's relationship.)
No worries, I actually sometimes dont understand when someone is being hateful, so I would read it as just normal.
SO! Again, dosent matter how Ganymede is portrayed, people will think it shouldnt even exist any discussion of him (like, there was an artist that literaly make Zeus as a vile abuser of Ganymede and Hebe was consoling him - EVEN THIS SITUATION THAT SHOW EXPLICIT HOW BROKEN GANYMEDE WAS, PEOPLE HAVE COMPLAINED AS ROMANTIZATION ;w;). So just dont try to look for a reason, there are a lot and none depending sole on who is interpreting my drawings.
This specifc drawing you mentioned, I did way after this recent wave of hate and was just a joke. This case dosent have so much meaning behind the joke, but like, you can have your interpretation as him coping, or he feel for Zeus, or he just want to mess with other gods as he is the only 'mortal' and use Zeus as a shield so he can just be lying... LET YOUR IMAGINATION FLY.
Look... my very firsts drawings and tiktok of Ganimedes was him mad... He literaly mad cry... Even before any nsfw I have done or more nuansed art... and yet people also thougth as romantization... So really, dosent matter what I do, to some people just because of my style or because Zeus is hot its equal to be ok with anything he does (as if abusers cant be attractive... its good those people never meet someone like this, but still makes me worry about them). Ah! There re two expections: some eagle interactions re sweet because its before any harm; and Ganimedes smiling one time on a tiktok video (I though people would be intriged and make questions, but nope, they stick to Ganimedes liking being abused I guess - welp the fetish exists, but I know they mean as me saying 'abuse is ok because he liked it').
I dont know where people think that just because Ganimedes its not suffering in every single second means he is ok to all harm and struggle he will pass... I want to make him suffer as an OC, but like, let him have happy moments... and this also means happy moments with Zeus... and all of this dont erase any bad things... this binary way to see stories its just so not my thing -w-
Oh! and its not because you have intimacy with someone you also love them (like, rage f*cking is a thing and I want to explore it, maybe outside the comic, idk yet u.u). I also have some cannibalism drawings Gani x Zeus, cause imagine eating a god!! So exciting!
OK now for real, I will not answer anymore romantization discustion for some time. I'm tired of this, I will do my things and hope people have patience before stating something that its still in progress. Aske me about it in two months maybe...
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Hi how are you? đ May I request some headcanons of RE characters (you choose, i can't choose because I like most of them đ
) with a reader who worked 13 days straight and has insomnia so they're pretty much in autopilot or zombie mode at the end of that but are more polite then usual? I hope I don't have to work that many days in a row again đ©
HI yes i can relate as someone who doesn't know how to say no to picking up shifts. my record is only ten days thought, rest in peace my love that sounds HORRIFIC. i chose some guys at random (along with chris and leon, my favorites lol) i hope you enjoy!
Chris Redfield
literally him too
this man has never known a good nights sleep since he was like 21 and even then it was kind of rocky
he has less sympathy because of it. to him it's kind of normal
he works like no one else has ever worked because he cares about his cause. it's a bit hard for him to understand that not everyone does in the case of work
he feels bad seeing you this way though and he knows it
he may have done it before but seeing you go through the zombie nature was affecting him now. you were his person, his safe spot, and you weren't safe
once the sympathy comes it doesn't leave
calls your boss!!!!
on your phone!!!
he's so scary. he's a scary big man. tall. big. large. so large.
they gave you three days off in a row actually
they also mentioned to not have your boyfriend call on your phone again because of professional reasons and it wasn't until then that you knew he even called
you were so out of it you hadn't checked your outgoing calls (and why would you?)
anything he can do to help, he will. just ask it of him.
The two of you sat in front of the TV. His arm was over your shoulder as you leaned against him, more comfortable now than you had been in weeks.
"You hungry?" he questioned, glancing down at you.
"I could eat."
"Anything specific?" You glanced up at him, meeting your eyes. He could read your look. You wanted him to go and get food. He narrowed his eyes, playfully. "It's late."
"I know. I'm being silly."
"Well I didn't say no."
Leon Kennedy
Leon is the most likely on this list to also have some sort of insomnia. He can't even talk against you either because he has the same exact issues
working too much, not sleeping enough
he drinks sometimes till he can't feel the effects of either
so who is he to say that you should go to bed or that working so much was destructive?
despite it being hypocritical, he sees the overall exhaustion within you
you're suddenly quietly polite, you have nothing in you to fight against him, even when he makes his normal banter and you don't return it
that's what really affected him. until you got rest, you could never really be back to him. your polite tired nature made him want to protect you. you were his, he couldn't let you go on like this
he showed up at your work
he didn't chew out your boss, no, he just 'brought you lunch' and then politely demanded that you be given two days off
he may have brought a weapon. it wasn't very good of him but then again, neither was having someone work 13 days straight
you promised him that you would do it for him next time
"What about when you go off to Japan for a month and I know you aren't sleeping?" you questioned. You sat in bed together, eyes heavy, no work in the morning.
"If you were in Japan I couldn't know if you were sleeping either," he pointed out.
"I feel like you would find a way." He smiled, that charming gentle smile. Comforting, homey.
"You're right. I would." You rolled your eyes.
Carlos Oliveira
was a fierce advocate for you taking a day off and is mid contact with your boss
he doesn't care if it was your choice. he really doesn't. he loves but you but damn if he won't let you go through that again
you're so quiet that it scares him sometimes. the life in your eyes is just barely there
he is a bit of a workaholic himself sometimes but he knows how to take breaks. he prides himself in being able to separate himself from that when he can
he tries to lull you to sleep (like you don't know what he's trying to do)
you're stubborn and he knows this and you're also far too tired to admit how tired you actually are
the kind of boyfriend to give you tea and hope it does the trick. to give you massages, make you listen to him talk so much that hopefully you'll fall asleep in his lap
he adores you to pieces. he really does. how can he bear to see you like this?
it's like you're a zombie and not the bad kind. he wanted you to spend the whole day in bed and again, he will call your boss on your behalf, he'll pay for the rent if he can, he doesn't care
he'll do whatever he can to save you from the fate of another awful night like that
His hand massaged your shoulders as you sat together on the couch. You had been silent for a while and although it used to worry him, he was just happy to have you beside him.
"No work tomorrow," he mentioned quietly.
"Don't talk about work," you whispered. He nodded, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer.
"Sorry." You looked at him at your side. "I think I might lock you in the bedroom so you can get some sleep."
"You know that's not how that works," you whispered, though you smiled at the gesture anyway.
"It's how it should work."
Ethan Winters
Ethan understands better than most how hard it can be to let things slide
he knows that working sometimes helps. it helps the silence in his head when all he can focus on is that he's so tired and the has to work
because he understands, he also has a certain degree of protection he has over you
he knows what it feels like to be unable to feel his eyelids anymore because they're so heavy
the very second you have off he demands that you stay inside
he would rather you be laying down and not moving for a while if he could stand it, allowing you to bask in the quietness
he would make you promise him that you would try your hardest to sleep because he thought that once exhaustion came over you it would be too hard not to
he wanted to tell you about how hard it was for him after the Baker house to sleep because he had so many bad memories that he didn't want to relive
he tries to relate to you about that. he wants you to know that sometimes his bed is a demon in and of itself
insists you take time off afterwards. he doesn't care how it happens but you need a day of rest and that's final
"They'll probably need me in sooner," you admitted, quietly. He shook his head over dinner. He had made it for you that night, happily, some of your favorite foods.
"Two days minimum," he said.
"You're not my boss Ethan," you told him honestly but he shook his head. He was having none of it.
"You should quit."
"I know. But I can't."
"I know," he hummed, shaking his head. "Two days. Two. In a row."
#chris redfield x reader#chris redfield imagines#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy imagines#albert wesker x reader#albert wesker imagines#carlos oliveira x reader#carlos oliveira imagines#ethan winters x reader#ethan winters imagines#resident evil imagines
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I lied, I don't want Megatron's confession constantly getting interrupted. I want them to kiss, I wanna see Megatron being a simp for his small spider wife.
bonus
Optimus - Thank you for putting aside our differences and meeting me here. And I'd like it to be known that right now, I am not speaking to you as autobot to decepticon but as mech to mech. With that being said, I will find a way to kill you if you hurt buddy
SHOVEL TALK PLS
another thing to tag on, Im sorry I only got ideas after requests are closed, i hope when you see this you have a nice day and drink water.
Will we finally get the confession? Yes? No? You'll have to find out.
I had other request similar to this one so this will have some of their elements too.
Better context, read the last Elita One's twin sister post
Hope you enjoy!
Elita One's twin sister and Megatron confessions?
SFW, Platonic, Romance, Cybertronain (techno organic) reader
TFA
All Decepticon projects had halted when Buddy disappeared through that portal.
Not that anyone would object to it anyways.
Everyone was worried about where Buddy would end up.
Blitzwingâs personalities all agreed to work together to find her, causing a near cohesive flow.
Near, the faces would sometimes have a fit over little details in the search.
Starscream halted all his plans to overthrow Megatron until Buddy was found.
Lugnut messaged Strika to keep an optic out on the space bridges they were thinking about taking in case Buddy was around.
Shockwave was also notified about Buddy sudden disappearance.
Megatron was by far the most worried in the group.
He could still see Buddy trying to reach for his servo.
After 3 days of searching Megatron knew what he had to do.
He didnât like it, but Buddyâs life potentially at risk and time was at the essence now.
The entire Decepticon group had flown to the city and landed in the center of the park.
There was no way he was going to message the smaller Prime, but at least showing up would do something to alert the Autobots.
Within no time most of the Autobots had shown up at the park.
Megatron walking towards Optimus.
Optimus walks to him.
They meet in the middle.
âMegatron.â--Optimus
âPrime. I have news.â--Megatron
Optimus doesnât like the look Megatron is giving him.
They look frightened.
What could possiblyâŠ
âMegatron, whereâs Buddy?â--Optimus
Megatron looks down a bit and clenches his servo.
âA portal opened inside the base. We wereâI was unable to stop her from getting sucked inside.â--Megatron
Optimus and the Teamâs optics go wide.
âHow? When?â--Optimus
âThree days ago. We have not found a trace of Buddy.â--Megatron
âDo you think that she may have been kidnapped again?â--Optimus
âNot likely. There would have been traces ofâŠâ--Megatron
Optimus clenches his axe.
âHow can we help?â--Optimus
âFirstly, a truce needs to beââ--Megatron
Optimus shakes his servo with Megatron.
âAll right, next?â--Optimus
Optimus managed his team to start looking for Buddy.
Prowl and Bulkhead went to Dinobot Island to see if Buddy was around.
They came across Dinobotâs there.
They were worried that Buddy hadnât shown up either.
Grimlock managed to organize the Dinobots to help with the search.
Ratchet, Bumblebee and Sari searched more in the city for Buddy.
Optimus managed to get in contact with Elita and tell her what was going on.
She nearly turned the entire ship around hearing that.
âElita you canât come back to Earth without the right jurisdiction.â--Optimus
âOptimus, Buddy is in trouble. My twin needs my help.â--Elita
âIâm with Prime on this one Elita.â--Sentinel
âWhat?â--Elita
âWhat?â--Optimus
âWe have orders to get back to Cybertron and thatâs what they expect. They donât know Buddy is still alive. Ultra Magnus still doesnât know. Itâs going to give us and Buddy more trouble if we go back.â--Sentinel
ââŠFine.â--Elita
âWeâll keep an optic out on our end Optimus.â--Sentinel
âThank you, both of you.â--Optimus
âOptimus, if you donât mind me asking, how did you know.â--Jazz
âMegatron told me.â--Optimus
ââŠCome again.â--Jazz
âHe told us he needed help finding Buddy. Sheâs been gone for three days.â--Optimus
âThree days?!â--Elita
âHow do you know this isnât a trap? How do you know that Megatron isnât lying?â--Sentinel
âTrust me, he wouldnât be lying about Buddy.â--Optimus
âHowââ--Sentinel
âTrust me on this.â--Optimus
ââŠI hope youâre right.â--Elita
A few days laterâŠ
Megatron is flying around early in the morning when he sees that same blasted portal open in the middle of the sky.
Something shoots out of it and the portal closes.
He looks closer at the thing and nearly has a spark attack.
It was Buddy.
âWHY CANâT I HAVE A SAFE LANDING?!â--Buddy
Megatron dives down and grabs Buddyâs waist slowing her descent and flies upwards.
Buddy has her optics shut closed preparing for the worst.
âBuddy?â--Megatron
Buddy opens her optics and sees the shocked optics of Megatron.
Her Megatron.
âMegatron?â--Buddy
Megatron just pulls her in a tight hug.
Buddy does her best to hug back.
âIâŠI thoughtâŠâ--Megatron
âMegatron, even after all this time, you still doubt me?â--Buddy
Megatron gives her a slightly unamused look.
âYou know what I mean.ââMegatron
Buddy giggles a bit.
âI do, but sometimes it too easy with you.â--Buddy
âToo easy?â--Megatron
âYes, like this.â--Buddy
Buddy cups both her servos on Megatronâs faceplate.
Megatronâs optics grow slightly but close them when she starts gently stroking her digit on his face.
âIs this fine?â--Buddy
Megatron just nods.
âI missed you.â--Buddy
âAs did I.â--Megatron
Megatron looks at Buddyâs optics longingly.
âI love you.â--Megatron
Megatronâs optics go wide as the three words slipped out of his mouth.
Buddyâs optics went wide but then a happy smile graces her face as she pressed her helm against his.
He leans in too.
âItâs a good thing I feel the same way too then.â--Buddy
âFeel what?â--Megatron
âLove. I love you Megatron. I love you so.â--Buddy
Megatron lets a smile loose and closes his optics focusing on the moment with Buddyâs helm still resting on his.
They both come back to the park after Megatron let everyone know that she was okay.
The Decepticonâs want to high tail it to the park, but Megatron tells them to get back to the base.
Begrudgingly they agree.
Optimus is the first one to arrive at the park and tackles Buddy down.
Optimus locking Buddy in a tight hug on the ground.
âDonât you ever do that again! Do you hear me!?â--Optimus
Buddy just chuckles and hugs him back.
Optimus helps Buddy get off from the floor.
Budy moves her way back to Megatronâs side and takes his servo in hers.
Optimus gives Buddy a look before getting the message.
Optimus turns to Megatron flashing the axe in his servo.
âI thank you for putting the war aside for Buddy, I do. And right now, still has nothing to do with the war, but as mech to mech.â--Optimus
Optimus gives him his best death glare.
âIf you ever hurt her in anyway, shape, form, and I find out⊠Youâre going to have to deal with me. And you wont like the ways I deal with things angrily; you can ask Buddy that.â--Optimus
Buddy having flashbacks to Optimus fighting a whole group of cadets because they hurt her.
She had tried to get Elita and Sentinel to get him to stop, but in the end the two joined in.
Megatron looks at the Prime for a moment before taking out his other servo.
âYou have my word, Optimus Prime. For what ever its worth to you.â--Megatron
Optimus shakes it before giving Buddy one last hug.
Prime transforms and gets back to the plant to call off the search party.
After getting buried in more hugs and light scoldings, there is a mini celebration at the base for finding Buddy.
Buddy had to make many calls during the party to make sure everyone knew she was okay.
âI see the Spider survived.â--Strika
âYes, I did Strika. Iâm home.â--Buddy
âI must ask what happened though. Megatron had most of the projects stopped to go look for you.â--Strika
Buddy blushes a bit at the comment.
âWell, thatâs a story for the next time you come over.â--Buddy
âI see, but one last question.â--Strika
âYes?â--Buddy
Strika points to Buddyâs servo that is off screen.
Buddy lifts it up a bit showing Megatronâs servo carefully intertwined with hers still.
Strikaâs optics go wide.
Buddy smiles sweetly.
âHmmâŠI believe Iâll have to make my visit sooner then.â--Strika
âOkay then! Bye Strika!â--Buddy
Strika cuts the video call.
Megatron squeezes her servo a bit.
Buddy smiles and squeezes back.
SLAM!
Megatron and Buddy jump at the sound.
Megatron pulls Buddy closer still holding her servo.
âLord Megatron we have theââ--Lugnut
Lugnut zeroes in on the servos.
âOh⊠MyâŠâ--Lugnut
âUmm, Lugnut? Are youââ--Buddy
âITS HAPPENING! ITS HAPPENING!â--Lugnut
âWhat?â--Megatron
Starscream and Blitzwing come running in and spot Megatronâs servo in Buddyâs.
Blitzwing throws his servos in the air with utter joy and relief.
âFinally! Itâs over now!â--Blitzwing
âWhatâs over now?â--Buddy
âThe endless pinning! You two have been pinning over each other for years and finally, FINALLY got together!â--Starscream
Buddy hides half of her face with her other servo.
Megatron feels embarrassed but knows that he canât really punish them for this.
It was torture for him too.
Megatron drags Buddy away from the cheering mechs.
âHave fun you two!â--Starscream
Megatron stops and gets ready to go back and punch Starscream.
âMegatron no.â--Buddy
Megatron follows Buddy as if nothing happened.
#transformers x reader#maccadam#bot buddy#tfa x reader#tfa x platonic reader#tfa optimus prime#tfa megatron x reader#tfa megatron#Elita One's twin sister
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Library
Summary: You meet Spencer at the library when going to check out The Fisher KingâŠ
Warnings: none!!!
Word count: 700
Ally: This is based loosely off the fisher king episode kinda but not really, sorry about the length!! I plan on having a second part to this one soon!!! Enjoy lovelies!
You loved reading, any free time you had was spent reading, and it served as a distraction.
Your friend had been telling you about a book she had recently heard of, it was called The Fisher King, you did a tremendous amount of research on it only to find out the only possible way to read it would be to get it from your local library as it was no longer being sold due to its old age and rarity.
You decided to visit the library after work to pick it up, luckily someone had just returned it, and just as you were checking out a nerdy, tall, and lanky man walked towards the front desk next to you.
âDo you mind if I read that book in your hand before you leave?â Itâll only take like ten minutes,â he quickly said eyes bright as he bounced his foot nervously.
âTen minutes?â you questioned cocking an eyebrow.
Spencer bit his cheek for a second before replying, âI have an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute, I know it sounds crazy but just trust me, it's really important,â he mumbled quickly.
âI-uh okay,â you stuttered handing him the book.
Taking the book in his hands, Spencer carefully flipped through it, fingers running over every page as he read, his eyes glancing over the words quickly, taking in every detail. After what seemed like only a few seconds, he closed the book and handed it back to you with a small smile.
âThere's no way you read that all,â you blurted eyes widening.
âI promise, I did. My name's Spencer Reid by the way,â he said extending his hand for you to shake.
you shook it hesitantly still in disbelief.
With a smile, Spencer continued, âI'm a psychologist and criminal profiler for the FBI, always on the lookout for new books to read, this time it was actually for a case.â
You gasped in realization, you remembered before you graduated he had done a lecture at your college. âI've seen you before, you do lectures right?â you asked.
Spencer's cheeks reddened slightly, and he nodded. "Yeah, I've given several lectures on various topics, mostly about the human mind and behavior."
âYou're one of the reasons I became a counselor,â you smiled.
Spencer smiled warmly, "That's amazing. I'm glad to have played a small part in your journey." He glanced around the library, trying to think of something else to say. "Would you like to get coffee or something sometime?â
âAbsolutely, do you want my number?â you asked breaking into a smile.
"I'd love your number," Spencer replied, pulling out his phone. He tapped on the screen a few times before handing it over to you. "Here, add your number, sorry for not asking your name earlier, if you don't mind me asking now what is it?â he blushed slightly.
âit's y/n,â you smiled putting in your number and handing his phone back to him.
"Thank you, Y/N," Spencer said, pocketing his phone. He couldn't help but feel a bit flustered at the interaction. It was rare for him to meet someone who understood and appreciated his work so deeply. "Well, I should probably get back to my research now.â
âYeah, sorry for keeping you so long,â you blushed holding the book against your chest.
"It's quite alright," Spencer reassured you with a gentle smile. "I hope we can catch up again soon, maybe over that coffee or even another book." He waved goodbye before disappearing into the stacks of the library.
You stood there for a moment still in disbelief at what had just happened, the librarian laughed before saying, âhe's a cutie isn't he?â
You blushed deeply turning to face her to answer, âJust a little,â you mumbled making her laugh again.
âHe works for the FBI actually,â she added laughing again as your eyes widened.
âGood to know,â you smiled waving at her as you left the library and headed home to read the book. Which would probably take YOU a lot longer than ten minutes.
#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencerreidssockss#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine
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