#i kept an eye on the cat and she was DISTRESSED (god I feel so bad) I HAD to get her out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

candycandy00 · 1 year ago

Text

The Trade Part 2: A Dabi x Reader Zombie AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Smut. 18+. Zombie Apocalypse AU. Oral, stripping, voyeurism.

For a few moments, you just stood there, silent and unmoving. You were trapped in the van, with your only exit being blocked by its owner. How could you have been so stupid? One of the first things Toga had taught you was that you never place yourself in a position without at least two exits. The temptation of all that food and water had overpowered your instincts.

The black haired man stepped aside and motioned for you to come out of the van. You did so, slowly, then as soon as both feet were firmly on the ground, you broke into a run. You only made it a few feet before you felt strong arms wrap around your shoulders and pull you back, right up against a firm body.

“Whoa there, where do you think you’re running off to with my shit?”

The man’s voice was close to your ear, and something about the tone of it made you stop struggling and go still in his grip. He released you, but stood close enough to reach out and grab you if you made another run for it.

You stared at him, trying decide your best course of action. Should you pretend to be confused and helpless? Just a damsel in distress who stumbled upon this van full of food? Or should you be honest? Or perhaps be friendly and compliant until you found a chance to run again?

“Not gonna talk?”

You hesitated for a moment longer, studying his face. He was much better looking close up, with piercings you hadn’t noticed before and eyes so blue they could make the sky jealous.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, “I just saw this van here and thought it had been abandoned. I’ll give you back the stuff I took.”

He grinned, the expression resembling a cat’s. “You just stumbled across my van, totally by accident, right?”

You didn’t like the way his tone suggested you were lying, but you tried to look innocent as you nodded.

He laughed suddenly, the sound startling you. Then he narrowed his eyes and said, “What about all those times you were watching me from the trees? Were those accidents too?”

Your face froze in whatever dumb innocent expression you’d been wearing. In your confusion, you could only utter one word. “What?”

He took a step toward you, so close now that you could feel his breath when he spoke. After watching him from afar for so long, the nearness of him made you feel dizzy.

Oh God, he smells good.

“The first time was when I killed the deer, right? I could tell someone was watching me. In the middle of the night I went into the woods to look around and what did I find? A girl sleeping in a tree. All by herself, completely defenseless.”

He said that last part in such a suggestive way, with a gleam in those blue eyes, that you couldn’t help imagining what terrible things he could have done to you that night. Then there was the small but growing part of you that kind of wished he had.

You didn’t have a response to that, so you kept your mouth shut and glared at him as he went on.

“Then that time I killed some zombies outside a store. I came back a few minutes later to get something I forgot, and there in the middle of the street was that same girl from the tree, being hounded by a zombie.”

“Thanks for jumping in to help,” you said sarcastically, unable to stop yourself.

“Didn’t look like you needed my help,” he replied dismissively, seeming eager to move on to the next point. This was the one you were dreading. His lips curled into a wide grin as he continued.

“Then yesterday I heard something in the woods while I was relaxing at the waterfall. When I came back later to check, what do you think I found?”

All color drained from your face as his words sank in. But he kept going, mercilessly.

“It was that same girl, totally naked, frolicking in the water! She didn’t notice me at all, even when I was just a few feet from her while she was drying off. So I left and decided to set up a little trap for her.”

“Pervert,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. He’d seen everything you had.

“Hey, don’t forget the free show I gave you!”

Ugh, he was right. You’d spied on him bathing first. You didn’t have any right to complain. But where was he going with all this? He didn’t seem particularly angry at you, but he’d just admitted to setting a trap for you specifically.

You tried to play it cool, despite your increasing anxiety about this situation. “I already said I’d give the stuff back. What more do you want from me?”

His grin faded as his expression darkened. “You were following me so you could rob me. You would’ve stolen everything I have if given the chance.”

“No, I-“

“Don’t bother denying it,” he snapped.

You winced at the sudden harshness of his voice, then fell silent. Maybe he was angry after all. You wondered if you should try running again. He was close enough to catch you, but perhaps you could distract him like you’d distracted those two men the night before. Maybe throw the stuff you’d stolen several feet away and hope he’d be surprised enough to turn his back on you?

That probably wouldn’t work. He was focused intently on your every move. You remembered the rage he’d displayed when he’d killed the zombies, and a question slipped out of your mouth, quietly but clearly: “Are you going to kill me?”

He laughed again. “Why would I kill you? I just want to propose a trade.”

“A trade?” That surprised you, and confused you. “You have lots of stuff I want,” you said, glancing back at the interior of the van, “but I don’t have anything to trade for it.”

He looked you up and down, that cat-like grin back on his face. “Oh I think you’ve got plenty.”

It took you a minute to realize he was talking about your body. So… he wanted to trade supplies for sexual favors? Your face reddened, but it was a struggle to keep your expression neutral. A war broke out in your mind.

He’s gorgeous! He gives me supplies AND I get to fuck him? That’s win-win!

No, no, do not go weak for this guy! He’s just a horny scumbag who wants to take advantage of you!

But I actually want him! I’d let him do anything he wants to me for free!

You say that now, but what if he gets violent? What if he turns out just like those two who tried to rape you last night? Say no, and you’ll find out what kind of guy he is!

You tried to keep calm and collected as you looked at him and asked, “What if I say no?”

He shrugged. “Then you’re free to go. No hard feelings. I’m not gonna force you to do anything.”

You hesitated for a moment, trying to quiet the excited voices in your mind. You looked him up and down as he’d done you, more for show than anything else. You already knew he was custom made to appeal to every taste you had. Then you sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. “What will you give me for a blowjob?”

His eyes widened slightly, as if he wasn’t expecting that question. Maybe he thought you’d need a bit more convincing. Maybe he didn’t yet realize how thirsty you were for him. He seemed to think about it for a moment, then said, “How about… everything you can fit in your backpack?”

You fought hard to not appear too eager. You couldn’t let him find out you would have gladly sucked his dick for free. “Plus the stuff I already took?”

“Sure,” he replied.

“Okay, deal,” you told him, and then you both stood there awkwardly for a few moments before you stepped closer to him and got down on your knees.

You moved slowly, mostly because you were unsure of what to do. You’d had a little sexual experience, but not much. Nothing to prepare you for blowing a hot guy in the woods in exchange for food. You’d performed exactly one blowjob in your life and, honestly, you’d just found it gross. But you hadn’t been very attracted to the guy, so this was an entirely new experience.

Your hands fumbled with the belt of his jeans, and he watched you with an unreadable expression as you moved on to unzipping and pulling open his pants. You saw the bulge right away, somehow even bigger than you expected. Carefully, you slid the front of his boxers down to allow his cock to spring free. It almost slapped you in the face.

His cock was even more impressive up close. Perfectly sized, elegantly shaped, and a row of small piercings dotting the head. You reached up with one hand and gently grasped it, holding it upward, then you leaned forward and ran your tongue along the underside of it, from base to tip. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as you took the whole thing in your mouth.

You moved your head back and forth, plunging his cock all the way in and then almost out, using your tongue to swirl circles around the tip. This went on for several minutes before you felt his hand come to rest on your head, his fingers softly threading through your hair. You kept going, enjoying the way his touch felt, getting lost in your own passion, living for the way his breathing quickened and the delicious little moans he was trying to hold back.

Finally, he groaned louder and tried to pull out, saying, “I’m about to-“

You held on tighter, clamping your lips onto his cock. He exploded in your mouth, coating the entire inside of it with his cum. You kept his cock in your mouth until he’d completely emptied himself, then you licked the tip clean as he pulled out.

He looked down at you with a surprised expression. “You don’t have to swallow…”

But before he could finish the sentence, you’d gulped it all down. Oh no, had you appeared too eager? You didn’t want him to realize you were getting the better end of the deal. You stood up as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and tried to project indifference. The man seemed to be at a loss for words, but was that a faint blush on his cheeks?

“Well, I’ll be taking my stuff now,” you said in a cool tone, grabbing your backpack and emptying it on the ground. Your scant belongings fell out, but you could gather them in your arms later. Right now, you needed all the space you could get.

“Sure,” he said, his voice a bit lower than before, “take whatever you want.”

You climbed up into the back of the van and searched around, carefully deciding what to take. The first thing you chose was a large leather “fanny pack”. You’d need it to put your other things in, so you folded it up and shoved it into your backpack. Then you loaded up on canned foods that would give you protein and carbs, a couple of bars of soap, a pair of socks, a small box of matches, and then as many bottles of water as you could cram inside.

As you jumped down from the van, the man stood nearby, watching you. He was probably making sure you didn’t take more than the agreed upon amount. You had to stop yourself from thanking him.

You pulled out the fanny pack and shoved your extra clothes and other meager items into it, then secured it around your waist.

“Are you going to keep following me?”

You turned at the sound of the man’s voice. “Maybe,” you answered. “Why?”

He smirked at you. “Just thought you might wanna trade again sometime.”

You turned away from him so he couldn’t see how red you were getting. “Probably. We seem to be going in the same direction.”

He sat down on the edge of the back of his van. “Wanna hammer out some details? Things you won’t do, things I won’t share, stuff like that.”

“Sure,” you said, still looking away until you could calm yourself down, “you go first.”

He started immediately, which implied he’d already been thinking about it. “There’s a chest with a padlock on it in the van. Everything in it is off limits. That’s my personal shit.”

You hadn’t even noticed the chest, but now you were curious. “Anything else?” you asked as you pretended to still be arranging your items in your bags.

“Oh yeah, you probably don’t want it but… don’t take all my hair dye.”

This caused you to look at him again. The hair dye was all black. He had black hair. You suppressed a snicker at the thought of him diligently dying his hair and maintaining his roots in a zombie apocalypse. Still, you wondered what his natural color was.

“I won’t take your hair dye,” you said, keeping your tone flat to hide your amusement.

“Your turn,” he said.

You thought for a moment, trying to decide if there was anything you wouldn’t let this extremely attractive man do to you. Finally you said, “Actual sex is off the table.”

He looked surprised, and maybe a little disappointed, but he nodded.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to have sex with him. Of course you did, but not right away. Also, you were a little embarrassed for him to find out you were technically still a virgin. “I’m not doing anything weird either, like drinking piss or something,” you added.

He laughed. “That’s not something I’m into.”

After a few more minutes of fake-sorting your stuff, you zipped your backpack and started to pull it onto your shoulders.

“How about another trade?” the man suddenly asked.

“Already?” Jeez, how horny was this guy?

He looked around at the woods surrounding the van. “It’ll be dark soon. You can stay in my camp tonight, sleep in an actual sleeping bag. It can’t be comfortable to sleep in a tree every night. I’ll make sure nothing hurts you.”

The faces of the two men from last night flashed across your mind. They could still be out here, looking for you. And how long had it been since you’d actually stretched your legs out to sleep? You crossed your arms over your chest and asked, “So what do you want in exchange?”

He looked you in the eyes and said, “Do a strip tease.”

You almost stumbled from the shock. Somehow you didn’t expect that. He must have noticed your reaction, because he grinned and said, “What’s the big deal? I’ve already seen you naked.”

You frowned. “Yeah, so why do you want to see something you’ve already seen?”

He shrugged. “Why do rich people buy fancy paintings to hang in their houses? They see something pretty and they want to see it again and again.”

You blushed. Did he just call you pretty? You looked around. It would be dark soon, and the woods were already shaded. Would he even be able to see much? More importantly, could you stand the embarrassment of having this beautiful man watch you strip? But he did seem to like what he’d already seen…

Oh, what the hell.

“Okay,” you said, “I’ll do it. But I’m not dancing, and I’m standing close to the van in case anyone or anything approaches, so I can jump inside.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, standing up from his sitting position at the back of the van and moving several feet away from it to give you room. He was still standing a little closer than you’d hoped, close enough to see everything very clearly, even in the fading light.

You stood with your back against the open van, the edge of it pressing against the back of your thighs. You took a deep breath and then pulled your T-shirt up and over your head. You dropped it inside the van, then unbuttoned your denim shorts and slid them down your legs, stepping out of them while keeping your ankle boots on.

Standing there in only your underwear, you felt your face getting hot again. The man just stared, no discernible expression on his scarred face. You took your time unhooking your bra from behind, then pulled it off, dropping it onto the growing pile of your clothing in the van. You avoided looking at your lone viewer as you slipped your panties down, sliding them over your thigh holster and then over your boots.

When finished, you had no idea what else to do. You instinctively covered yourself with your arms for a moment before realizing that was defeating the purpose of a strip tease, so you dropped your arms to your sides. It suddenly hit you then that you were outside in the woods, just standing there completely naked, in front of a man you’d just met. The thought made you feel frightened for a moment. But then you glanced up at the man, and saw his face.

His blue eyes gleamed in the haze of approaching dusk, his lips slightly parted, a hint of a blush across his face. He looked at you as if you were one of those “fancy paintings” he mentioned. As if you were art. Suddenly, you didn’t feel frightened at all. Instead, you felt… beautiful.

“Sit down,” he said, “and open your legs.”

He didn’t say it in a commanding tone, but rather the tone of someone desperate and needy. You could practically feel the desire radiating from him. It left you utterly defenseless. So you did as he said. You sat down carefully where he had been sitting until a few moments ago. The metal was still warm from his body heat. You maintained eye contact with him as you slowly spread your legs apart, giving him a full view. You really hoped he wouldn’t be able to see how wet you were.

His eyes broke from yours to travel down your body, drinking in every inch. You’d never felt so exposed in your entire life. It’s not that no one had seen you naked before, but somehow those few and brief times hadn’t felt anywhere near so intimate as this.

The man stepped closer, and you tensed up. He stopped just a foot away and said in a low voice, “Touch yourself.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” you said, still sitting there with your legs open.

“I’ll throw in a hot meal. I killed two rabbits earlier.”

God, that sounded good. And you were so turned on already, your fingers were twitching. It was a good deal and you knew it. But… it would be incredibly embarrassing. After mentally weighing the pros and cons, you decided to go for it.

You slowly moved one hand to your breast and squeezed, while the other hand slid down your torso and settled between your thighs. You rubbed yourself first, spreading the wetness around, then slipped a couple of fingers between the folds to stroke your clit. You tossed your head back and closed your eyes, moaning softly.

Pleasure had been so scarce since the outbreak began, and you’d had precious few opportunities for it despite masturbating regularly before the world went to hell. You felt so good now, sitting on the edge of the van, gently rubbing your most sensitive places. You almost forgot you had an audience, until you blinked your eyes open and saw him standing there, so close he could touch you. The rapturous look in those blue eyes as they stared at you nearly sent you over the edge.

You suddenly felt extremely vulnerable, being so exposed and doing something so deeply private and personal in front of this stranger, but that very feeling was in itself exciting. You met his gaze, and you couldn’t help wishing he would close the small distance between you and put his own hand between your legs. Or better yet, his face.

But he remained perfectly still as he watched you. He wouldn’t touch you without permission, and that fact alone made him more desirable to you.

You finally climaxed, clenching both hands, squeezing what flesh they could grip. When finished, you closed your shaky legs and sat there for a moment, getting your bearings. Then you stood up and began dressing. The man turned away from you as if giving you some privacy, which felt laughable now. But he waited patiently for you to finish and step away from the van before he climbed inside and gathered some items.

He placed the familiar garden stakes around the perimeter and tied the wire and empty cans around them. Then he went to work starting a small fire. You took over stoking the fire as he skinned and cleaned the two rabbits. If he timed it right, he could have the rabbits cooked and the fire extinguished before it was totally dark.

Everything went smoothly. The two of you were sitting on the ground, eating rabbit in the darkness an hour later. There were small glowing lights on the garden stakes that you hadn’t noticed before. Not enough light to be seen from a distance, but enough for the two of you to know where the perimeter was at all times. He also had the same lights on his van. It was a pretty genius way to keep aware of his surroundings in the dark without drawing in zombies.

When you finished eating, you took a drink from your bottle of water and then pulled your knees up to your chest as you watched the man pick the bones of his rabbit clean. Neither of you had spoken much since your “strip tease”, but he kept looking at you as if he wanted to say something, so you decided to start a conversation.

“What’s your name?”

He looked over at you and finished chewing before saying, “Touya.”

You smiled at him. “Nice to meet you, Touya.” Then you told him your name before he asked.

“Can I ask you something?” he suddenly said, to which you nodded. “Why are you all alone out here?”'

You shrugged. “Groups scare me. The more people there are, the more ways the group can fracture. I’ve seen it happen, and it usually ends in violence. Much simpler to stay on my own.”

There was one group you met that seemed like they’d make it, that you sometimes regretted not sticking with. It was a group Toga had introduced you to. First, the two of you met up with a pair named Jin and Magne. The four of you then traveled a few days until you reached a secluded bar that somehow hadn’t been completely stripped bare yet. There you met a former stage magician that everyone called Mr. Compress (apparently his stage name) and two gamer bros named Spinner and Shigaraki who spoke exclusively in video game references.

Apparently they had all met long ago online and formed a group. When the outbreak began, they’d all agreed to meet up at a specific location (the bar) if the internet went down, since that would be their sign that the world was ending and they’d rather take their chances surviving together. Most of them referred to each other by their online names, and they mentioned waiting for the last member, someone named Dabi.

“He might not even show up,” one of them had said. “He’s from a rich family so he might just stay with them.”

The group had seemed welcoming and friendly, even if Jin was a little too chatty and you were getting sick of the gamer bros comparing everything to Resident Evil. But you had seen close-knit groups fall apart already, even in the early days before supplies became scarce. You really didn’t want to watch this group of friends, who clearly valued each other as much as family, turn on each other.

You felt a little bad about leaving Toga behind, but at least there was another woman, Magne, in the group. You would have tried to convince her to go with you before leaving a teenage girl with a bunch of men. But Toga had seemed happy with them, and they all seemed strangely calm about the whole zombie apocalypse thing.

One morning you packed up your things, said your goodbyes, and left on your own. They didn’t make a big fuss, which you appreciated, but they did tell you their general plan and where they intended to go, in case you wanted to meet up with them at a later time.

Now, sitting across from Touya, barely able to make out his shape in the darkness, you found yourself thinking of that group for the first time in weeks. You looked toward Touya and asked, “What about you? Why are you alone out here?”

His face wasn’t visible, but you could make out the silhouette of his shoulders rising in a shrug. “I do better on my own. No one to slow me down.”

“No family?” Though you couldn’t see it, you got the distinct impression that he’d stiffened at your question.

“I got family, but none I wanna be cooped up with during the apocalypse. I’d rather live out of my van than be locked in some bunker with my dad.”

There was a story there, clearly, but it was obvious that Touya wasn’t ready to give anymore details, so you dropped it.

He spread out two sleeping bags on the ground, far enough apart to be respectful, and climbed inside one of them. He gestured to the other one and said, “Better get some rest while you can.”

You did so, and it was probably the best sleep you’d had since this whole nightmare began. The next morning, you woke up when daylight broke, and quietly gathered your things while Touya slept. You wanted to be long gone when he woke up, because you were just now feeling the embarrassment and awkwardness from yesterday’s events.

As you moved through the woods later that day, still keeping close to the road but also just a short distance from the river, you heard a sound that froze you in your tracks.

A gunshot. More specifically, a shot from a rifle.

It was pretty far away, judging from the sound, but close enough to make you worry. It meant two things: the men who had attacked you two nights ago were still in the area, and any zombies from the surrounding towns or neighborhoods would now be heading toward that sound. The woods were about to get much more dangerous.

Tag List:

@crunchtits @jabberwocky-92 @myst1cfish @missrosegold @dreamybxnny @hotvillainapologist @faetheral @touyasmaid

Note: There were some people who asked to be tagged but didn’t have an age listed. I’m very sorry but I won’t tag someone in a smut post if I don’t know they’re an adult. If you’d like to drop me a message telling me your age or list it in your bio, I’ll be happy to tag you in the next chapter!

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #dabi #touya todoroki #touya x reader #x reader #bnha x reader

208 notes · View notes

tales-from-a-little-witch · 2 months ago

Text

A little kitten saved my life

Tw: men being horrifying in the dark

This happened not too long ago on a late cold night that I was craving something sweet, was around 1:40 or 1:50 am, I grabbed my bag and decided to walk down the gas station.

Let me paint you a picture of the way to the gas station. It’s a pitch-black road that goes on for at least five minutes, and the only light you’ll see is the light from the gas station. There are no streetlights down this road.

I got down to the gas station, and everything was normal. But leaving the gas station is when I got a bad gut feeling �� that sort of feeling that turns your stomach and gives you goosebumps.

I reached into my bag for the knife that I always kept inside of it.

Now, admittedly, this is where I messed up. I didn’t check my bag for my knife, and my knife wasn’t in my bag...

Instantly, I was on edge. There I was, without a weapon, and with this terrible, gut-wrenching feeling.

I figured I'd walk home quickly, and as I began walking, I heard the most gentle mewing from behind me. I turned around and saw a beautiful little tricolor tabby.

She was tiny, and her little legs were rushing to catch up to me as she mewed and meowed the whole way to me. Then, she stopped at my feet. I’m thankful that she caught my attention because as I was looking at her, I spotted a movement in the darkness behind her.

To my horror, it was a man...

I tried not to freak out. I tried to rationalize it, thinking,

"He must have just been walking back from the gas station, just like I was."

There was no need for me to worry about it. I've walked that road plenty of times with others, and this was no different.....Or so I tried to convince myself....

The sweet little cat looked back at the man and then back at me and suddenly darted off, and something inside of me told me that I needed to follow her. Intuition told me that I needed to run, and fast.

The little cat kept looking back at me as she ran, her eyes checking to see if I was still there. It was as if she was making sure that I was still running alongside her. We ran and ran through that dark and empty road.

She darted straight towards my apartment and stopped under the one light that was illuminating the darkness.

Relief flooded through me, and my heart pounded furiously in my chest, my breaths coming out heavy and ragged. But I took comfort in the fact that the man was still a considerable distance behind me.

I stood there with her in the light for only a moment before gently scooping her up into my arms, stroking her head and thanking her. After all, I’d always been taught to be polite to cats.

I was planning on taking her inside with me......

That’s when it happened.

She looked off into the darkness and began hissing and yowling, struggling desperately to break free from my arms. She positioned herself in front of me, facing the pitch-black darkness. And that stomach-churning feeling of dread returned…

Her fur stood on end, and her yowling became so loud that she was practically spitting. My eyes slowly followed hers to the source of her distress. There, standing in the darkness right outside my apartment line, was the man. He was staring at me, that awful smile curving his lips.

My heart dropped straight into my stomach, and I felt nauseous in an instant. I was absolutely dumbfounded; he was supposed to be a good distance behind us. We had RUN. We had sprinted, for god's sake. How in the world had he made it here so swiftly?

I hadn't even heard him, my mind swirling with a thousand racing thoughts, and my body beginning to tremble. I tried to rationalize it, grasping at any logical explanation.

He must have run after us, I thought. This man had pursued me all the way here while I fled with the kitten.

I spun on my heel so swiftly that the Devil himself would have grown dizzy. In a heartbeat, I dashed into my apartment, only pausing for a brief moment to glance back at the little kitty. She stood her ground, hissing fiercely like a little sentinel determined to guard me or buy me some time.

Once the screen door slammed shut, the little kitty dashed away, seamlessly vaulting over the neighbor's fence and into their backyard. As she disappeared, I watched the man lingering in the shadows, his gaze locked on me. I watched him from behind the safety of my curtains, my eyes glued to the spot where he had been standing. Gradually, as time ticked on, he finally turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows. Of course I reported it but that did a shit of a lot good.

He knew where I lived now, knew exactly the apartment in which I resided. That realization sent tremors of terror coursing through me, yet the even more chilling thought that sent ice-cold dread into my heart, was what he might have done to me on that darkened road if it wasn't for the brave little tabby.

I guess all that cat karma did me some good, I don’t think that little kitten showed up by coincidence.

8 notes · View notes

thatonehighschoolreject · 9 months ago

Text

The Merc's Final Kill

Where V chose the easy way out. Saying goodbyes on a rooftop. He was hoping to make amends with Johnny and himself. Thanking each other for their time together.

wordcount 6k canon compliant spoiler warning V's third POV TW for suicide

Relic Malfunction Detected

V stepped into the elevator and raised an unsteady hand to press the down button on the touch screen. He coughed hard as the doors slid shut. And then he fell to the ground, barely able to save himself from a broken nose by catching the ground with his elbows.

"I warned you," Johnny groaned from behind him, pissed beyond belief. He approached V. Then suddenly a chrome hand pushed the stop button.

The lift came to a sudden stop, unsettling the bile in V's stomach. He kept it down nonetheless, surprisingly. "What're you doing?" V was baffled. How the hell did Johnny press the button anyway? He was in the cockpit- not piloting. He frowned and lifted his head to see Johnny standing by the doors now.

The engram scoffed, "What am I doing? I'm showing you what it's like to feel fucking trapped." He paced as V flipped over and backed into the corner of the elevator. Right now, he was wishing he was in any life but the one he currently lived. "Asked you. Warned you. But you've insisted on not giving a shit." He was using a tone that one would use when explaining something complicated to a toddler, like he believed the mercenary wouldn't understand him no matter how simply he worded it. "Now this porcelain cunt is gonna use you in her fancy scheme." He looked down at the dying man like a cat would a wounded mouse - with disgust and primal disrespect.

V didn't stand for disrespect.

He fought off the lightness in his limbs and the spinning in his head. He tried to pull himself to his feet and sputtered the words : "Fuck off." V didn't see that he had much choice in the matter. And who was Johnny to say what he could and couldn't do? It was his body not the rockerboy's. "I haven't agreed to anything yet." He was only half standing now, the rest of his body weight he was forcing the wall behind him to hold. He was gripping the railing, holding on for dear life so he wouldn't fall.

Johnny glared daggers and his words were soaked with venom, "But I know you still don't understand how these leeches operate." He threw his hands in the air in frustration before continuing. "She met you face to face. She revealed her plan. She sunk her teeth deep into you-" The ghost lowered himself to be on V's level, "Not gonna be able to pry yourself out."

V weighed his options, considering the latter. "Well, we could ask the Aldecaldos to lend a hand." His mind wandered to Panam. And he briefly wondered if he would be able to say goodbye. If he'd even have the guts. God, she was like the little sister he never wanted. But he loved her to death. Well, death doesn't hold much value nowadays. Especially considering he'd be lucky if he had a month to live. Definitely not enough time to tie up any loose ends.

Johnny rolled his eyes as if V had suggested he ask the Tyger Claws for help instead. "Listen up, V. Those guys are trailer tuggers!" He stood back up straight and continued to pace, this time even faster than before. He seemed very distressed. "An assault on Arasaka's just not another convoy to jack. You already tried this with amateurs." He tilted his head as he looked over to him. "We both know how that ended."

"And you tried it with pros. It didn't end any fucking better." V's voice sounded weaker this time. Like he was grasping at straws to stay conscious. His bones felt so sore and weak. His head felt like it was going to explode. And it seemed like Johnny didn't even care one bit. He managed to stand all the way upright before a wave of pain struck his body once more. And he had never felt pain like this before. Like he was being crushed between two semis both going 200mph.

Relic Malfunction Detected

"Johnny…" That was all he could get out in a broken breath. Then V came crashing down to the floor again, landing on his side. If he made it through this, he would definitely be bruised from shoulder to knee. And he had sworn that he heard something crack. Was that his wrist?

"Great! You checking out again?!" Johnny moved to get down by V. Hoping that maybe if he got closer maybe V wouldn't lose consciousness- or his life. Well, both their lives. He was hoping that he could save him. Just like he had so many times before.

Just before he could reach a knee to the paneled flooring everything went black.

It was so dark. So damned dark.

V had never seen such darkness. His eyes were open- at least he thought they were- and he still couldn't see a thing. Couldn't feel anything either. Fuck. Had the biochip really taken V clean out of the land of the living?

If he had flatlined, then that would mean Silverhand's name was the last thing to leave his lips. God, that would be a damned pathetic last line. Definitely not one to go down in a documentary.

The darkness seemed to swallow him whole.

"Wha… Am I…?" V muttered this thoughts, begging to get an answer on if he were actually dead or not.

"Not yet," Johnny said confidently from the confines of his mind.

The black faded to a white. V opened his eyes and was met with a blinding light. He winced at the throbbing stabbing in his body.

"Easy there. Don't move just yet." He had heard Viktor's voice before he had seen his face.

"Vik?" He let out breathlessly.

"You're in a lot of pain, I know. Delirious when you arrived so I had to dose you with betalaperadol." The ripperdoc looked at V's narrowed pupils and squinted eyes, "But light oversensitivity's a good sign. Means your optic nerves aren't damaged." He looked back over to his computer. "Almost done stabilizing the biochip."

V was overwhelmed by the pain. His words were barely more than a whisper. "My head…" He groaned as another spike of soreness washed through him. "Feels like…"

"Like someone's using your head as a knife block?" Viktor finished for him. Well, it wasn't an inaccurate way to describe it. A good way to put it even, it did feel like that.

V didn't even remember walking into the doc's clinic. All he remembered was that damned elevator. And what it felt like to be inches within death. "How… How'd I get here?"

"Dragged yourself here beat to hell and back. Gave Misty a hell of a fright. Then, you shoved my patient at the time off the table. And demanded you be treated immediately." Viktor stared him down, as if hoping retelling the ordeal would help rejog V's memory or at least strike him with an ounce of shame.

"Tell him it was your guardian angel," Johnny whispered aloud. It was then V realized he had the engram to thank for him to be still kicking. He had seemed so mad before, V never would've guessed he'd want to save him after that conversation.

"Huh?" The doc replied as if he had heard him. But that was impossible. V's eyes wandered to find the ghost leaning with his arms crossed, just a few meters away from the table he found himself crumpled on.

"I, uh… wasn't completely myself." V struggled to explain his actions. If he admitted that Johnny had taken over so easily the doc might've underestimated V's sense of control in his own body.

Viktor looked to him, a look in his eyes glinting an unreadable emotion. "I know. It's a bit worrying."

The mercenary struggled to show a small smile as he offered a light comment. "I'll order a weaker poison next time." He would almost laugh if he didn't know it would hurt.

Viktor had hardness in his stare and his voice somehow got even more stern. "This ain't no joke, kid." He briefly glanced away to follow V's eyes then turned back to face him once he found nothing. "As I see it, there won't be a next time."

His words really hit where it hurt. Metaphorically, because literally everywhere was hurting. Even parts of him he didn't know could hurt. Was this really the end of the line for him? For Johnny's second go around as well? Maybe Johnny didn't care about V's life. Why would he care about anyone but himself? He had hated the kid since the day they met so why would he feel any different now?

He probably just saved V to deal with some more of his unsettled business, to use his second chance at life to pick up the pieces of his previous one. After all, almost nobody dies without a speck of unfinished business weighing in their heads and on their souls. Johnny was certainly a prime example of that matter. That man had more loose ends to tie up while dead than he ever had even attempted while he was still alive.

It really struck him. He didn't have much longer did he? A couple days? Maybe less?

In not much time he'd feel just as lost as the ghost that haunted his mind. He would have just as many things he'd wished he coulda done. Just as many regrets and grudges, too. Just as many guilty deaths weighing on his conscious moments before his own end came to meet him.

V had once doubted that the biochip would be the death of him. A month ago, he begged Viktor to say it was just some crude joke. Now, it seemed that Viktor was right. But at least Johnny had attempted to save him and prolong his inevitable demise. But what would that matter now?

The doc typed something into the keyboard with a glum expression. "Alright. That should be a little better." He nodded his head, shutting the display. His eyes fell back on the dying man. "Try sitting up. Carefully."

"Okay." V huffed, "Don't expect a miracle." He braced himself on the table with his hands against the arm rests. As he straightened out his legs, he whimpered in pain. His joints were flooded with uncomfortable static. The mercenary slammed his eyes shut, face contorted in discomfort. His sharp inhales struggled in assisting him to not scream.

"I said slowly-" Viktor repeated, eyeing him with worry.

V groaned as he straightened his back out, speaking through grit teeth. "Another victory for the history books."

"Hmm." The ripperdoc hummed, crossing his arms. He clearly wanted to say something but he was holding back.

"Well, looks like I can sit up alright." V trailed off, prying at him, "But I can tell you don't have good news." He feared the next words that would come out of the other's mouth. What could be more important than what he was going through right now? Nothing better than this shit, that's for sure.

"How much longer is this going to go on?"

He averted his eyes from Viktor's troubling gaze. "You tell me."

This was the most serious V had ever seen him. "Looking at you, not long at all." Viktor shook his head, seemingly overwhelmed by guilt. He felt to blame for the man's state, even though he had nothing to do with it. "Next attack, you won't be able to crawl back here. You'll flatline in some back alley. This is your last chance to take matters into your own hands. Understand?"

"Take matters into my own hands? The fuck you think I've been doing?" He narrowed his eyes in anger, pushing himself to sit up so he was finally upright.

Viktor raised a brow at the other. "Well, whatever it is, it keeps landing you on my table." He stepped to the side and V's eyes landed on a medical cart that was behind him. Johnny appeared beside it. "You see that setup over there?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"You'll find the last dose of pseudoendotrizine there. A gift from Misty. Want to give in to the voices in your head? Go ahead. Take a puff. Go silent. Get out." Viktor let out a long sigh that sounded as though he was holding it in for hours. His gaze was heavy on the dying man. "Or, find another way. End things on your own terms. Got a little present from me over there too. Blockers. Managed to walk those few yards to the table. The rest will be up to you and you alone." He stepped away from V and walked to the other side of the room.

"On your own terms, huh?" Johnny pressed, now standing right in front of V. He glared in Viktor's direction then looked back to the mercenary. "Really subtle there, doc."

"Enough, Johnny. I just…" V looked down at his legs. "I gotta think about it." He got off the table and onto his own two feet.

"Need to stretch your noodle?" Johnny's voice echoed. "Fine, just not in this basement."

"V, christ. You're talking out loud." Viktor called out.

"Out loud? What?" V paused. That echo wasn't an echo after all. It was V speaking as Johnny. Fuck, he was really losing it after all, huh?

The ripperdoc huffed, "Just go fix this thing."

V stumbled a bit as he tried to take a step. He groaned. "I think I can do it."

Johnny walked beside him just as slowly. "Whatever you decide, let's make sure to get outta here first."

The mercenary nodded his head and went to the medical cart. He grabbed the pills and stuck them in his pants pocket. He ignored the growing lump in his throat as he grabbed the pistol and holstered it on his hip. He turned to walk towards the exit. Misty stood by the door. Fuck, he hadn't noticed she was there. Did she hear all of that?

"Hey, V, I heard…" She began to speak, "Well… your thoughts?"

V swallowed hard in reaction. "Shouldn't have had to. Sorry… bout that."

Misty shook her head, "No need to be. I know what's going on." She empathized, "And I know it won't be easy. For either of you." She glanced around the medical room. "If you don't want to decide here, I know a much better place."

He considered it. "Sure. Got a feeling Vik's had enough of me, as is." He frowned, looking at him in his peripherals.

"Don't be mad at him," the psychic eased, "His chakras are all blocked up today. Plus he's had too much coffee."

V fought the urge to laugh. "Lemme guess. My aura's sputtering?"

She seemed to look at him as though he were the saddest thing imaginable. "Mhm, afraid so."

"Lead the way." He nodded his head towards the door. "Why's this spot so special?" He wanted to calm his mind. Hell, could barely think, let alone with both Viktor and Johnny's eyes staring him down.

And lead she did. So V followed. "I took Jackie there once. It's not far." Misty made her way up a flight of stairs and he struggled to keep up with her pace.

"Jackie? What's he gotta do with any of this?" He narrowed his eyes. He hadn't heard anyone say his name in a long time. It hit with whiplash only comparable to being in a high speed motorcycle wreck.

One could hear the smile in her voice. "You'll see. C'mon." Misty slowed her walking to match V's speed.

The walk was so ominous. What could possibly help him decide what he wants to do with his last days alive? Was it really that grand of a spot that Jackie would've fallen deeper into love with her? Misty walked through elevator doors and V followed. Not without being reminded of his last time in an elevator but at least someone would be here to help him if his brain and body were to shut down again. That and he was only a short walk away from Viktor's clinic.

"Top floor." The psychic nodded her head to the display. V pressed the roof button then looked back at her. Really, what could help at a time like this? "He had the same glum face."

"Who, Jack?" He narrowed his eyes in doubt.

" 'This is it, chica. I'm done for.' " She quoted, not seeming to be hit as hard when talking about him as V did.

V never thought of Jackie to ever be in a pessimistic state. Even in his last moments he still seemed to be planning what he would do next. "Doesn't sound like the Jackie I knew." He admitted.

Misty offered a soft smile. "That was a long time ago. His mom had just found out he signed up for the Valentinos." The elevator came to a stop and she lead the way to another set of stairs. He followed blindly. "Trust me, Señora Welles on one shoulder, your gang choombas on the other, no choice can ever seem right."

He hummed in agreement though he had never been in that situation before. Not any like it really. He never had anyone looking out for him or trying to stop him from making any rough choices. Save for Johnny but he didn't really count. He just made a decision and if it came to bite him in the ass then oh, well, he'd deal with it then.

"Life wasn't easy for my Jackie. But he found the courage to bet on himself." After walking through a long hallway, Misty opened the door to the rooftop. V followed and greedily took in a breath of the fresh city breeze. "After, I brought him here."

The getup was pretty mellow. There were a couple of plastic beach chairs placed near the edge of the roof with a small table placed between the two. It gave a perfect view, you could see every skyscraper in the entirety of Watson. There werebits of trash littered around but that was true for anywhere in Night City.

"Ah, that's more like it. Air." Johnny commented from V's right, not hesitating to take a joying lungful, as well.

The air felt like ice hitting the back of his throat. It helped ease the pain in his head, clear it a bit too. He didn't feel as sore anymore.

Misty continued, moving to sit in one of the chairs. "I come out here when I need a break. Be alone with my thoughts."

"She's onto something," the engram agreed, surprisingly. "Ought to sit. Mull through some shit yourself."

V made his way over to the edge, taking a seat in the other chair. "Thanks, Misty. You were right, choice spot." His mind lingered before he was able to voice his thoughts. "So what… What did Jackie decide up here?"

"Oh, you know, 'Gonna be a legend in this city!' " She quoted him, even putting in that enthusiasm he had always seemed to have.

At that moment V was heavily reminded of his departed friend. His voice. All that he had left behind. All who he left behind. Misty, V, Momma Welles. Countless others for sure. He was grateful to have met Jackie but had wished he had known him a bit longer. Wished he could've spent more with him. And he was sure Misty felt the same way.

"I'm gonna leave you alone. Take your time." Misty sent a smile his way before getting up and leaving.

As she shut the door behind her, Johnny appeared again. He was sitting on the edge of the roof, right in front of the amazing view. "Fuckin' scared me, you know that? Thought you were on your way out."

"No." V didn't let his eyes leave the rockerboy. "Still here."

The ghost grimaced. "For now. Y'know, you should call anyone you wanna say goodbye to."

"Worst case scenario. That what you expect?" Did he really have so little hope in him?

Johnny shook his head. "No, but whatever you decide, risk's gonna be high. If things don't go our way…" He couldn't seem to place his thoughts together to continue the way he would've liked. "Just fucking do it. Anyone you gotta talk to, now's the time. Pills can wait." The only reason Johnny would bring it up is because he wishes he had been given the chance.

The chance to call Kerry and let him know he might not make it past the next night. To call anyone that had ever once mattered to him and say his final goodbyes.

He wished he had taken that opportunity and given those around him the tiniest bit of closure. But he hadn't. Maybe because he only thought about himself in that moment and didn't care to think about the after.

And he can't undo that now. All he can do is attempt to stray the kid in a different direction than he had gone.

V considered it. Considered all the people he could call. Just to talk to one last time on the holo in case this was his last night alive. He couldn't call Panam. He didn't have the courage to. How would he explain this one away? 'Yeah, sorry, Panam, I don't have long to live. Don't cry about it for too long.'? Yeah, right.

And it would suck the life outta him to have to call Judy. Let alone Rogue. To have to tell her that she was about to lose Johnny for the second time and lose him as well. That would crush her. He couldn't do that. He wondered, if he did drop dead, who would be the one to find his body? Who would be the one to spread the story? Who would be the one to tell the people he knew that he was no longer? Would he end up being a legend after he died just like Johnny had been? Unlikely. Yet, he held onto that thought.

But why was he thinking about all of this? Maybe there was a way to save himself. To keep from ending up six feet under. Even if there wasn't, it wouldn't do well to dwell on the after. Because he wouldn't be there to see it. So it shouldn't matter. Right? He wouldn't be the one to mourn for it. He wouldn't be the one to grieve his death. Still, it was a lot of pressure to put on those around him.

If he had much choice in the matter he'd choose to live longer instead of going out like a sick dog that others would just want to put down. To be put out of his misery and suffering. Hell, if it were that easy he'd choose life instead of death. And maybe, just maybe, he'd choose to let Johnny stick around. Because why should the guy have to go through death twice? Wasn't dying once enough for him? Once is enough for anyone, really.

"No. Not really my style, goodbyes." He came to the conclusion. One he would likely regret if he was alive long enough to. A hard choice. That's what this place was for, right? Choices.

Johnny frowned but didn't protest. "You do you. Come a long way to get here, haven't we?" 'We' that word stuck with V. To think of him and the ghost as a duo, as an 'us,' well, that made him feel less alone in the matter. Made him feel like maybe all this hard work and fighting his way through was actually worth it. "Just think. It all started in a fucking landfill."

V scoffed at the memory. Reminded of Takemura and being told he didn't have long to live. The beginning of this whole mess. "Then you tried to kill me." He wondered where he was going with this.

"Exactly what I mean. Here we are now, together. Soaking in this sweet vista of Night City. I only regret I won't get to see how it all ends." Johnny continued, moving to sit in the chair the psychic had been in prior. He had a point, though the use of the word 'together' sat with him. Such a small word for such a big thing. Together meant that neither of them were alone. That brought comfort to the both of them.

Hey, who knows, maybe in another fifty years some poor, unknowing guy will put the engram in his head and Johnny will get to see what happened after this life ends. V, well, V wouldn't be so lucky since he couldn't afford to become an engram.

"Gee thanks. Got that little faith in me?"

Silverhand shook his head, disagreeing. "Not in you, in the rest of 'em." He looked off into the distance at the landscape. With the tiniest beat of silence that lingered, his eyes were back on V again. "Listen, wanna trust Panam and her tarmac rats? Fine, but it'll be their lives weighing heavy on your soul. And if you take Arasaka's deal, well, that'll be your own soul on your conscience."

Without hesitation V spoke, "Gonna try to ask Panam for help."

"You absolutely sure?" He eyed V, not wanting to go through with either choice, really. "No going back on this, you know."

He paused to gather his thoughts before speaking them. "There is another option, though." V wondered if he would regret this one or not in another life. He took the pseudoendotrizine and omega blockers out of his pocket and stared down at them in his palm.

"What?"

"We put all this- the pills, everything to bed."

"If we don't try something, anything, we're both doomed." The rockerboy frowned, hoping the other truly knows the consequences of what he does next.

"I know." He gripped the pills tight and chucked them off the ledge. "Exactly why we'll do one last thing." V's heart was beating out of his chest.

"Okay… You lost me." Johnny swallowed, "Realize the shit we've been through to get this far, right?" It only took him one look at V to tell that he wasn't bluffing. That he was serious.

"Sure do."

"To let it all go now, why?" He asked such a simple question but V was grasping at air to find the words to say next. Why does anyone else commit suicide? They see it as their best or last option.

"Cleanest, least bloody option. We try anything else," V thought of the casualties of the other options, "people die."

Johnny didn't seem to understand, "People die. It's the way of things."

V was convinced he was thinking clearer than ever, convinced that this was a rash decision. "Am I worth their sacrifice? Are you?" That was a good point.

Would a thieving mercenary and the ghost of a suicide bomber be worth the lives of countless others?

Would it be worth it for kids to bury their dads or moms?

Would it be worth parents burying their daughters or sons?

Worth someone their losing brothers and sisters?

Worth someone losing a good friend like Jackie?

Worth partners left to bury their boyfriends and girlfriends?

No. Of course not.

Neither of them were worth ruining a family. Let alone several. They weren't worth it all. Certainly not in this lifetime. "Besides, it's the only way we'll both be aware." V finished.

"Of what? Death?" Johnny seemed heartbroken to be letting go again so soon.

"Mhm." V's voice was softer now. "The moment life escapes."

The silence seemed to linger in the air for so long. Is this what death would bring? Silence? Or would be loud and repulsing.

What if death would be better than the entirety of this life he had lived? From what he's heard, most people never realize there's better things out there until they find it.

V didn't realize he could find a friend until he met Jackie, until he met Johnny. He thought he would live and die alone without anyone batting an eye or caring to notice.

Who knows, maybe if he had chosen to live the extra twenty-four hours longer he would've died without anyone. All alone. Nobody to say goodbye to. Nobody to say they'll miss him. Without even Johnny to ground him and reassure that death isn't that bad. This could be his last chance at a good, honest death.

Was it worth the risk?

V would argue yes.

"Hmm. Never really gave it a thought." Silverhand examined the other's features, maybe trying to read out more than what he was being told. "Funny how you still manage to surprise me, sometimes."

V laughed softly into the chilly air. "Might be something I learned from you."

"V," Johnny looked at him with a face of concern. "You sure about this?" He wanted to be sure that he truly wanted this. That he was actually willing to give it all up. Johnny never had anyone to ask him if he was making the right decision before he died, so he had to be sure he was that person for V. To give him what he had never received.

The mercenary glanced at the gun at his hip. "As long as you have nothing against it." He would hate for Johnny to not feel like he got a choice in the matter. Especially since this was now his life just as much as V's.

"Not how I'da done it, but that's alright." He seemed to finally feel the weight of what was going to be done. And he accepted it rather easily.

V raised a brow, "Just like that, no pushback?"

"Huh, mighta learned a little something from you, too." Johnny reached his chrome arm out and placed a hand on his shoulder.

It was the first time V had felt his touch since the time he tried beating him to death in his apartment. Hell, he had forgotten what his touch even felt like. Or the touch of anyone not trying to punch him, really. He was sure he was one of very few, or quite possibly the only one, to ever experience a gentle touch from the rockerboy. It was exactly as Johnny had intended it, to be comforting.

"Is it time?" He held great sorrow in his eyes. Not for himself but for V. To see one lose the will to fight hurt to watch. Still, it was V's choice to make, not his. And he respected that. Even if he thought V was stupid for it.

V nodded. He looked back out to the cityscape, admiring the neon lights and metal buildings from afar. "It really is beautiful."

"Been nice working with ya, V." Johnny said his goodbye, tenderness in his voice that not many had the luxury to hear. The sincerity of his words made the mercenary pause and think again.

So, this was it, huh?

The end?

Everything would be gone forever.

For good.

"Yeah, with you, too, Johnny…" The words were barely able to make it past V's lips. He wanted to cry but he couldn't. Instead, the lump in his throat almost cut off all breathing.

Was this really how it ended?

At least he wasn't alone.

At least he had Johnny.

And at least Silverhand didn't have to die alone this time either, left crying out to empty air. Someone would be there for him this time. Someone who cared.

V would give him something he never had. Something he never knew he needed.

V looked at his chrome hand and took it in his. He squeezed Johnny's hand. Neither of them could recall the last time they had held someone else's hand. But they were both sure that it didn't mean nearly as much as this time felt now. Wasn't as significant. Nothing would ever be as important as this.

This was a final goodbye.

He met Johnny's eyes with regret.

Not regret of sticking his biochip in his head, nor regret of having met Johnny.

Instead, it was a regret of not having had more time. Of not having met each other sooner.

Neither V nor Johnny were the same men they were before they were forced to each other.

V had been a suckup for corpos, always trusting in officials to make the best choices for the city. He saw no life purpose other than to make a name for himself on the streets.

In so little time, he learned so much about legends and that being one wasn't worth the price to pay. He learned that within the blink of an eye you could lose everything. That and sometimes the hardest to make decisions were the most important ones.

Johnny had refused to see any purpose in life other than to change the present for future generations. He thought to take down the higher-ups by whatever means necessary would be the solution. That it would save the world.

In so little time, he had learned so much about the connections of those around him and how they mattered more than anything. That and one man can't take down an entire family philosophy with only one bomb.

Even if he had never had the honour to meet someone like V in his life, to change him for the better, at least he had him in his death.

Who knows? Maybe after all this is over, they'll meet again.

In heaven or another life.

Maybe they'll be reunited under better circumstances and won't have to worry about putting aside their differences to see the decency in each other.

And maybe V would be the one saving Johnny next time around.

As V reached for the pistol and pulled it out from his holster, he felt the rockerboy's grip tense. He pulled back the hammer and saw there was already a bullet in the chamber. He placed the barrel against the underside of his jaw, aimed straight up towards his frontal cortex. He spared a look to Johnny as he rested his finger on the trigger and was met with the saddest eyes imaginable.

Johnny reached his other hand over and wiped a tear from V's cheek with his knuckle. V hadn't noticed he was crying. So that's why the ghost looked so sad- because he had never seen V cry before. His organic hand fell back down to meet with his chrome hand, gripping V's. Both their hearts were beating out of their chests in fear.

So much was left unsaid.

They weren't doing it alone. That's what mattered most.

Yet they couldn't find any way to shape them into coherent statements. So while V steadied his trigger finger and kept eye contact with his ghost as he squeezed the trigger.

V heard the blast just as everything went black.

This time, he didn't have to beg the question if he had flatlined. He knew it to be true. And this time, there was no panic in the darkness. He just let it envelope him.

And this time, Johnny didn't feel so alone. He finally felt like he had pursued a purpose.

If in their lives they hadn't been granted the luxury of peace, at least in death they would.

And even if they weren't perfect men, at least they would be remembered by friends.

That's what counts, right?

Johnny would argue yes.

#johnny silverhand #male v #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cp77 #canon compliant #this is the first time ive ever published a fic on tumblr i have no idea what im doing #i recorded ten minutes of dialogue of the sui ending and managed to write a solid 6k because i didnt have wifi and i was bored #no beta we die like men

2 notes · View notes

seitmai · 7 months ago

Text

AHHHHHHHHH (more under the cut lol)

Your friends kept you busy on the weekends, and Jake stopped by the Craftsman on occasion with Jeremiah when Cat needed a break.

Someone please get Jake this shirt:

It's a funny shirt but also very true!🫶🏻

"When Rooster gets back, I'll give him a hand building that jungle gym," Jake drawled as you handed a cracker to Jeremiah. "We'll have it finished in a weekend, and then Jer can test it out."

I just know Jer is gonna be the best jungle gym tester, he's gonna take that duty seriously 🫡

You watched Jake kiss Cat's son on the cheek as you said, "He can teach the Nugget all about the slide and the swings when the time comes." Your belly felt a little tender as you ran your hand over your shirt, loving the feel of the bump beneath your fingers. You were nineteen weeks along, and when Bradley left, you'd still looked just bloated. Now you were starting to get round in all the places that made you excited for what was to come. And after so many weeks of non stop nausea and vomiting, you were happy you could finally eat.

🥹🥹🥹

"Don't tell your dad that this is the reason you beg at the table," you muttered as he sat next to your foot and wagged his tail wildly.

Tramp is like: I got this mom 🐕🤐

"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these." You pulled the ultrasound away and gasped, "You're probably not even joking." "I'm definitely not even joking."

That man is 100% not joking

It took him a moment to respond. "I wish I could get home in time to hold your hand and find out in person. But you know I don't care one way or the other. The only nice thing is that we can start narrowing down baby names soon. I actually wrote down a few that I kind of like in the Nugget notebook earlier."

He really knows what to say 🥹

There was no chance of you falling asleep again, so you let yourself cry while Tramp put his head down on your bare foot and licked your ankle.

Dogs are so pure!! They really can feel distress and just wan to calm their loved one 🥺🫶🏻

"Oh my God," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut tight. You could feel the baby moving. It was kind of a wild fluttering sensation. You rubbed your palm against your shirt a little more, and the slight movement felt like a response. Your baby was right there. "Hi, little Nugget." Then you felt something like a soft thump.

Ahhh that's exciting!!🤗

You would go to your appointment, because he trusted you to take care of yourself and the baby the best that you could.

I loved this line because it says so much about them and how far they have come 🥰

"When's Rooster coming home?" You shrugged miserably. "You think I know? I just work here."

Her answer is such a mood

Maria elbowed him in the side, but it's not like he was saying anything you weren't already thinking. This sickening feeling had been inside you for days where you were convinced something went wrong. You just couldn't fathom why you hadn't received a call yet.

Poor Bob is being brave and saying the thing that is on everyone's mind and the only thanks he gets is a massive bruise on his side 🥴🙈

If you were still feeling this anxious, you'd block off part of your schedule next week to visit Dr. Genevieve again.

I'm so glad she realized that it's okay to aks for help and takes care of herself!!

When his flight landed, he was up and out of his seat, ready to go. Of course he ended up lifting down carryon bags for a few older passengers and one woman who had two kids with her. Of course he knelt down to help someone find their reading glasses. But all he wanted was for this line of people to move it off the aircraft so he could get into the terminal and call you.

Bradley being up as first person is already such a dad move! And we love a helpful king 👏🏻

There was a soft hum from the man, and you wanted to jump through the phone and strangle him for his lack of response. Then, as you finally managed to turn on your lamp, he said, "It looks like his flight just took off out of Hong Kong."

The nerve!! This was so freaking stressful

Bradley ended the call as you glanced around, and he stumbled when you finally spotted him. You were wearing a new dress. It was a pretty shade of green, and it was snug, hugging all of your curves. Hugging your bump. You had a bump. You looked so obviously pregnant to him, he was ready to crawl on his hands and knees and beg at your feet.... for what, he wasn't sure. But that's what his brain was barking at him to do right now.

Obsessed with his reaction 😍

He was kissing along that green fabric and rubbing his nose against that perfect, little bump. He knew you were twenty-two weeks along, and he knew what that meant. "Please, tell me," he rasped, stroking you gently with his thumb. "Please, Sweetheart. Is it a girl or a boy?" You kissed him softly as he collected you back in his arms. "You didn't miss it, Roo. I postponed it as long as I could. You're just in time."

🥰🥰🥰

Aim for the Sky Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Deployments feel longer when you're alone and pregnant. You know Bradley wants to be home for all of the milestones, but you also know he trusts you to take care of yourself. That trust goes both ways when it feels like ages since you've heard from him.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, pregnancy

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You hadn't spoken to your husband in more than three weeks. Not once since he left on a deployment of undetermined length. When you were on base, tucked away in your office or working on a project in the lab, it wasn't so bad. You could almost get lost in the idea of heading home to start dinner and find him working on a project. You could nearly pretend he'd be ready to wrap you up in his arms and ask about your day. But you knew better than to drift all the way into that daydream, because he wasn't there, and you didn't know when he would be back.

At least Tramp greeted you with excitement when you walked in each day, but you suspected that was partially because he knew you were about to feed him. Your friends kept you busy on the weekends, and Jake stopped by the Craftsman on occasion with Jeremiah when Cat needed a break. Today, he even made a comment about the multitude of pallets lined up on your driveway that prevented you from pulling all the way up to where you usually parked.

"When Rooster gets back, I'll give him a hand building that jungle gym," Jake drawled as you handed a cracker to Jeremiah. "We'll have it finished in a weekend, and then Jer can test it out."

Jake snorted. "You've taken to calling the baby a Nugget, too? Thought that was just your husband."

You rolled your eyes and flicked his arm. "Maybe I miss him, okay? Like a lot." Your voice shook even though you were trying for a teasing tone, and Jake's features softened. You quickly asked, "Are you two staying for dinner?"

Jeremiah was such a sweet toddler, and you were so lonely today, you were hoping Jake would say yes. But he kissed you on the cheek before he said, "Not tonight. I told Cat we'd be home by six."

You just nodded, once again afraid your voice might shake. You'd be fine; it wasn't like you needed someone with you all the time. It wasn't like you couldn't get through the night.

Once they were gone, you made yourself some dinner and ate it while you stood at the kitchen counter. Occasionally you dropped some bites for Tramp who snapped them up out of the air before anything ever hit the ground.

"Don't tell your dad that this is the reason you beg at the table," you muttered as he sat next to your foot and wagged his tail wildly. Even the veterinarian didn't know exactly how old he was, but he still seemed like a puppy sometimes. You could already picture him and the baby playing together.

Your gaze caught on the newest set of ultrasound photos which you had stacked up at the end of the kitchen counter. The appointment with Dr. Morris made you cry afterwards, because Bradley wasn't there to gush over the baby. You drove his Bronco that day, and you sat quietly trying to compose yourself while enveloped in his smell. He had some older ultrasound images tucked in the sun visor, and you wanted him to see the new ones so badly, you ached.

"I'm going to get ready for bed," you groaned at Tramp even though it was still early. You took a bath with the floating thermometer Bradley bought for you to use while pregnant. You drank a can of ginger ale instead of your preferred pink champagne, and you listened to one of the playlists he made for you.

When you were climbing in bed, you took the note he left you from your nightstand. It was folded into a paper airplane that looked exactly like his tattoo. He'd even written Baby Girl on it like always. Very carefully, you unfolded it and read the short message that you already had memorized, because it just meant something more in his handwriting.

I love both of you so much, sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming. Nothing could be this good. There's no way I get to return home to everything I ever wanted. I don't know when I'll be back, so I need you to take care of yourself and the Nugget until I can take over my duties again. I won't be gone a minute longer than I need to be.

You shut your light off before your tears could fall, and Tramp snuggled in next to you. When you thought about Bradley, you pictured him in his bunk. Maybe he was alone. Maybe he was with Reuben. Maybe he was rooming with a different officer. But it didn't matter, because you could easily imagine him practically spilling out of the narrow bed, one knee bent with the pink and blue notebook propped up while he wrote to the baby.

When your phone started ringing in the pitch darkness, you jumped, practically falling out of bed as you reached for your lamp and phone at the same time. It was a FaceTime call. It said restricted caller. You screeched his name, far too loud for your voice which has been resting just seconds ago. You shoved your glasses into place so you could see him, and shouted, "Bradley! Roo! Are you okay?"

"Hey, Baby Girl," he crooned, and his smiling face came into focus. You practically dropped your phone as he said, "I'm fine. Sorry it's so late."

You felt giddy laughter bubbling up inside you; the idea of your husband apologizing for calling and making your whole week was absurd. "No, no, no, this is perfect," you insisted. "This is great.

Bradley laughed and said, "I miss you so fucking much. Wish I was in bed right there with you."

"Me too," you replied. "It got chilly here tonight, and Tramp isn't as snuggly as you are." You missed his warmth and voice so much. It was almost Halloween, and the nights felt way too long.

His voice was just a whisper as he said, "Tell me about the Nugget."

Your smile felt overpowering. "Dr. Morris said the Nugget looked great when I was there two weeks ago."

"Two weeks ago," he groaned, rubbing his hands along his face. "Sweetheart... I already missed so much." When he looked at the screen again, you were out of bed and on the move. "Where are you going?"

You flipped on the hallway light and said, "To get the ultrasounds to show you. I left them on the kitchen counter."

You propped up your phone and held up one of the photos so he could see the baby. "There's my Nugget," he said, voice thick with emotion as you held up a second image. "Fucking cutest baby I've ever seen."

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling better than you had in weeks. "I liked this one the best. I think it looks like the baby is waving hello."

"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these."

You pulled the ultrasound away and gasped, "You're probably not even joking."

"I'm definitely not even joking."

You leaned on the counter and got a little closer to your phone as you whispered, "Another week or so, and I can go in for an anatomy scan."

Now you felt guilty as he nodded with his lips pressed together. "You get to find out if the Nugget is a boy or a girl."

Tears stung your eyes. You could already imagine him holding the baby in his arms, loving him or her no matter what. "Yeah," you said with a nod. "But I don't really want to do that without you there too."

Your heart swelled. "I can't wait to read all of your notebook entries. And if you're not home for my next appointment, I'll be practically vibrating with anticipation until I get to tell you if it's a boy Nugget or a girl Nugget."

You wanted to show him how your belly looked more curvy now, but when you and he both parted your lips to speak, you heard someone shouting in the same room as him on the aircraft carrier. Now your husband wasn't looking at you at all.

"Bradshaw! It's time. Get into your flight suit."

"Yes, Sir," Bradley said before glancing back down.

"You have to go," you sobbed, unaware that you were actually crying until you heard yourself.

"I do," he said quickly. "Right now. Listen, I love you. More than anything. You and the baby both, okay? I love you."

"I love you, too," you sobbed as your lips trembled. "So much."

"I'll be home soon," he told you earnestly. "I love you."

Then you were standing alone in your kitchen at 4:48 in the morning with tears streaming down your face. The abrupt end to the call set your nerves on edge just seconds after you had been feeling so good. You gripped the edge of your kitchen counter; that wasn't a regular call to order, that was the start of his mission you just witnessed.

There was no chance of you falling asleep again, so you let yourself cry while Tramp put his head down on your bare foot and licked your ankle.

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

Halloween came, and you could barely manage to give out candy to the neighborhood kids. You'd had Bradley with you for the previous two Halloween nights in a row, and this year you didn't even want to buy a costume without him. You were exactly twenty weeks along, approximately halfway through your pregnancy, but it was hard to be excited even as groups of kids ran up and down the sidewalk.

You sat on your porch and dropped goodie bags into pillowcases and plastic pumpkins while Tramp barked inside the house. You commented on all of the cute costumes. You cried a little bit. Your emotions were all over the place as you tried to imagine what it might be like going out to collect candy a year from now with your baby in a tiny costume.

When the trick-or-treating ended, you went inside and opened a miniature sized Hershey bar for yourself, and then you almost screamed. The chocolate fell to the floor as you reached for your belly. Tramp looked between you and the fallen treat as you sank down onto your knees.

You wished more than anything that Bradley was here to witness it. He was going to absolutely freak out when he got home. Then the intrusive thoughts arrived. If he got home. It had been another week and a half since that FaceTime call where he got cut off by a commanding officer. If his mission was completed, he should have called you back by now. But at least you didn't have a fleet admiral dialing your number.

You didn't move for a long time, not until the baby seemed to get into a cozy position where the movement slowed down and then stopped. When Tramp started sniffing around the candy bar, you crawled over to it and picked it up before he could get any ideas.

Time was simultaneously at a standstill and also moving too fast. In four weeks, it would be Thanksgiving and your first wedding anniversary. You'd been holding off making plans with your parents, because you didn't know what to do. You were already overdue for your anatomy scan, dodging phone calls from Dr. Morris's office when they told you that you absolutely needed to come in for your checkup. They were starting to leave you lengthy messages about how they needed to complete the full scan to be sure there were no underlying issues.

As you walked to your bedroom, you promised yourself you'd call tomorrow and schedule an appointment. Bradley would miss finding out if the Nugget was a boy or girl, but at least you'd get to see all ten fingers and all ten toes for the first time. You could reveal the news to Bradley when you got to talk to him. You would go to your appointment, because he trusted you to take care of yourself and the baby the best that you could.

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

The cafeteria was packed when you walked in with your uniform shirt untucked and your pants unbuttoned. You finally caved and ordered a maternity uniform last week, and Bickel let you cry in his office about how ugly it was before he sent you back to the lab. It should be arriving any day, but for now, you were making do.

When Nat saw you, she was on her feet heading your way immediately. "Your belly looks bigger!" she gasped, pulling you toward the table where she was sitting with Bob and Maria. "When's Rooster coming home?"

You shrugged miserably. "You think I know? I just work here."

Her laughter made you smile for the first time all day. Your nausea was back a little bit, and you were too afraid to even try to eat anything until you got home later tonight. When Nat scooted her tray closer to the edge of the table to make room for you, she asked, "Where's your lunch?"

You didn't want to lie, but you really didn't want them to pressure you to eat right now. "I think I'll just take something back upstairs with me." As you slid onto the empty spot on the bench, you asked, "Do you know if anyone has heard from Payback?"

You were met with shaking heads which didn't help your mood at all. What the hell was going on with this mission? Your tongue felt too thick, and your saliva practically made you gag as Bob said, "I thought they would have been home by now. Five weeks is a long time for a special mission."

"I know," you muttered. "It's okay." But you weren't actually sure if it was or not. It has been months since you had a panic attack where you had to spend a few hours with Dr. Genevieve, but you could feel it building up now. Worrying about Bradley and yourself and the baby all at the same time was mentally and emotionally exhausting.

You pretended to pick up a sandwich before heading toward the elevators in the lobby, and you stopped to throw up in the bathroom before you made it back to your office. Your anatomy scan was scheduled for Friday, almost three weeks after they originally wanted you to come in. If you were still feeling this anxious, you'd block off part of your schedule next week to visit Dr. Genevieve again.

Somehow, even though the only thing on your mind was talking to Bradley, you were shocked when your phone woke you up just before midnight on Wednesday evening. This time you rocketed to your feet as you yanked your phone free from the charger. It wasn't a FaceTime call. It said RESTRICTED CALLER. You braced your hand on your nightstand in the dark, and when you answered, you knew immediately that it wasn't your husband on the other end of the call.

"Hello? I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw," came a male voice in response, and then he was asking you to confirm your personal information.

"What happened?" you gasped once he established that you really were the one and only person on Bradley's contact list. "What happened to him?"

"Flight?" you gasped. "He's in the air?"

"Yes. A commercial flight into San Diego. He should arrive Friday morning, and I can give you the details now so someone can arrange for a ride for him."

You were baffled as to why Bradley didn't call you himself, but if he was on his way home, you didn't care. And you weren't going to arrange for a ride for him. You were going to pick him up yourself. When you grabbed a pen from your nightstand, the only paper you could find was the love note he left for you, so you started writing the flight number on your arm instead. Then you gasped and almost dropped the phone when you ended the call. There was the slightest chance he would be back in time!

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

Bradley was exhausted. He knew he could sleep for two days, no problem. He would land in San Diego and hope you were there to get him, then he'd ask you if the baby was a boy or a girl, then he'd take you home and make love to you before falling the fuck asleep. He really wanted to start building the jungle gym playset, but that was just going to have to wait for another day.

It was Friday, or at least that's what he thought, and he wasn't sure how busy you had been at work, because he hadn't spoken to you in weeks. Maybe Bickel let you take the morning off. If Bradley didn't get to see you in baggage claim like he always had before, he was going to be so annoyed that he was delayed weeks longer than he should have been. This mission turned into a three part nightmare on the high seas, and all he wanted was his wife and his Nugget.

When you answered on the second ring, shouting his name into the phone, he couldn't help but smile. "I just landed, Sweetheart. Does that mean you're here to get me?"

"Yes! I'm in baggage claim! Hurry up!"

His whole body thrummed with need as he picked up his pace at the confirmation that you were here for him. "I'm coming as fast as I can," he promised, squeezing between two groups of people walking way too slowly. He wanted to know if you took the day off. There were a hundred questions circling his brain, but the first one that he needed an answer to was, "How's my Nugget?"

He could hear the smile in your voice as you said, "Your little Nugget is thriving, Roo. But get over here and see for yourself!"

"Baby Girl," he laughed, jogging a little faster. "I'm coming."

"Hurry," you whined, and he needed to give you what you wanted.

He bypassed the crowded escalator and took the stairs as quickly as he could, skidding around a corner as he turned toward baggage claim. "Almost there," he panted into the phone. And then he saw you and groaned, "Fuck," loud enough that a few people shot him nasty looks. "Holy shit, Sweetheart."

"Roo!" you called out, prancing toward him in that tight dress and your boat shoes, and literally nothing felt better than being with you. As soon as you were in his arms, he was home. "Bradley," you moaned against his lips as his hands found your sides. You felt different in the best possible way. The swell of your belly wasn't huge yet, but it was definitely there. He could feel it. His growing baby.

God, you were kissing him just right, fingers threading through his hair as you rubbed yourself against him. "Jesus," he groaned into your mouth, but you kissed it away as he ran his hands along as much of your middle as he could reach. He couldn't help it; when you eventually broke the kiss to take a breath, he dropped to his knees in front of you.

Your fingers were still in his hair as you looked down at him in surprise. "Roo?"

Your softly parted lips and smile had all of his focus as he waited to hear you tell him what he'd been dying to know. "Oh," you whispered, pushing your fingers through his hair, leaving him in anticipation as your fingertips glided down his cheek. "I don't know yet."

"You don't?" he asked, brow creased in concern. But you just kept smiling as his heart pounded. "You don't know?"

"Nope," you replied easily. "My appointment is in an hour."

Bradley rocketed to his feet. "Are you serious?" he whispered, his voice a little harsh. "I didn't miss it?"

You kissed him softly as he collected you back in his arms. "You didn't miss it, Roo. I postponed it as long as I could. You're just in time."

"Hell yes!" he whooped, pumping one fist in the air as you giggled. "You waited for Daddy," he said, smiling down at your belly as he slowly walked you backwards. "That's my Nugget." You were looking up at him with trusting eyes as he pushed you back against a pillar next to the baggage carousel. "You said we have an hour?"

"Yes."

"Good," he murmured before his lips found yours, and his hands continued their excited exploration of your new curves.

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

Next up is the big reveal!!! I am so excited!!!! Get your final guesses in now! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who has been reading and interacting. Welcome to the new series!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@wintercap89

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@chaoticassidy

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

@gennyanydots

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

780 notes · View notes

ciarashoggoth · 3 months ago

Text

A Report! From Inside The Walls of Mallmart

He looks up to the ceiling as if he can see through it into the stars. His palms outstretched on either side, inviting any spirits to join them. This of course, was an act. He was not channeling spirits, and he was not communicating with the dead in any way. That didn't stop his clients from believing what they already wanted to believe though. In truth, he still doesn't understand why whenever someone comes to him asking for a higher power's help, they seem so often to get the very thing they had asked for. Maybe it's all just a game of chance or maybe there is some higher power out there that he is not privy to. Whatever it is though, it always seems to leave their eyes cold and dead, and they never leave this little town in the middle of nowhere that he calls home. Maybe he's just a lucky person who is spreading his luck to others, in fact- maybe he's a god. With that thought his eyes flick back down to the lady sitting across the table from him, clutching her worn leather purse in her hands in vice grip. He exhales a long, hissing sigh.

Because this is the story of a Mallmart Associate.

What do I remember after Hemi passed away? Well, I remember eating a lot after the shock wore off. I remember going online to spam my friends with all my distressing feelings, thinking if I just got them out of me I wouldn't have to sit with them and allow myself to be uncomfortable. I began to wonder if they ever got sick of having to come to my rescue whenever I was having a bad day, and eventually I stopped writing.

I believe that night was when I decided to try out eel for the first time. Everyone kept saying it was rich in flavor and that I would just love it, so of course I tried it late in the night, sitting in front of my tv in a catatonic state. Legally Blonde became background noise as I sat in quiet contemplation, right up until it was time to head to work.

Getting back into the swing of working was surprisingly easy. I suppose it's just like learning to ride a bike; you never forget. The rattling of the thing that lives in the pipes, the creaks and groans of the moving shelves- these are all a new normal that the associates of Mallmart have been accustomed to. It was the social aspect I wasn't ready for. Some things you may already know;

I'm not very popular among the stocking team. I can be a bit of a micromanager, and my anal retentive personality can get on others nerves pretty quickly. Leah in particular seemed to dislike me because of this, but I had trouble understanding why. What had I done that was so bad?

I'm not going to go far into how we got into an argument that afternoon, the whole thing was honestly a mess that started from a strange story a coworker was telling, one that I wasn't involved in, and then Leah went on to make a comment, insulting both me and my cat- my cat who had just passed away recently, in the process. "You can hate me as much as you want, but keep Hemi the fuck out of it," She was surprised by my outburst and hell- I was too. She shrunk back in fear, seeming a bit ashamed of herself but then I added on, "Are you really that small of a person?!" And then, as if my words had alit some new rage that had been lying dormant, she came back at me with renewed fire.

"At first I thought you were getting special treatment from the higher ups by the way you just go along with whatever management says, but now I realize exactly what your problem is- you're a bootlicking idiot! You're off in your own little world, being a yes man- how the fuck can you be so naive to think they will ever, ever promote you to team lead? You may be good at your job, but no one will ever take you seriously, your blind optimism fucking disgusts me-"

"What else do I even have left to do?!" I yelled, foolishly ignoring the heat rising in the back rooms and the saliva pooling in my mouth. "I need this job, okay? I need money for Jenna and the baby and hell- I was hoping I'd at least make some friends since I don't know anybody in Niceville but fuck me, right? I'm so naive and stupid, right?" Leah goes to say something, something about how I make her feel guilty for hating me since I look like I don't even know what a tool I'm being, something about how I make everyone look bad by reaching the unrealistic expectations management has for us, something about how some of them aren't willing to completely break their bodies for this job like I am.

Some of these things might've reached me and made me reevaluate had it been in another scenario.

Instead I abruptly pitched forwards and belched up a vile mixture of vending machine soda and low tide on the floor between us and by extension, her shoes. As Leah screeched, I stared in wide eyed shock at the inky concoction that swirled on the ground, and slowly looked back up at Leah's expression of complete revulsion.

"Would you like to round up to donate to St.Jude's children's hospital?" The cashier asks as Leah and I awkwardly stand in line, shoulder to shoulder. "Uh, yes please…" I mumble as I hand Leah the new shoes. "...Leah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't." Her voice is short and clipped with the sound of a warning on her tongue. I watch as she pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to rub the exasperation on her face. Maybe it's just a lost cause. Clearly I screwed up something along the way, I was just going to have to accept that we would never be friends- but just as I was off in my head thinking all this, something interesting happened. Leah apologized to me. She said she hadn't realized how bad her words were affecting me until today and that she'll try to ease up on me from now on. I apologized too for being too pushy about our deadlines. We agreed that something needed to change and that while we didn't need to like each other, we needed to at least get along. We shook on it, and I know I'm going to hold up my end of the deal. I have faith she will as well.

#daily report #humor #horror #weirdcore #suburban goth #unreality #dreamcore

1 note · View note

ekaterinatepes · 3 years ago

Text

Nothing but the Best

Author’s note: it’s getting interesting here ;) enter prince charming Sugu-kun to save the day.

IX.

https://youtu.be/uhoiqVPmURE

youtube

Satoru was afraid of making a move, least he tipped you over the edge and made you bolt; he didn’t want that. Swallowing hard he looked into your eyes… God… he had missed your beautiful E/C eyes so much. Waking up every morning without you by his side, without you kissing him awake cause he was going to be late for work… again. Your absence had left a literal infinite void in his heart that he was unable to fill.

“I know I don’t deserve anything from you Y/N, but I love you and I cannot give up on us… We said forever when we got married. And I want that… with you” speaking from the heart was not something Satoru ever did. He always preferred to cover any emotions with inappropriate jokes and double entendres. But he knew he couldn’t play his stupid games, not with you and most certainly not now.

You pulled away in that moment, as if his touch was burning you. He allowed it, doing his utmost effort not to pull you back in. His hands itched resting at his sides, missing the warmth of your body.

|||

It was you and me, it seemed to last forever

The way you taste and I still remember… the sounds we made.

|||

“It would have been nice if you felt that way before you decided to ruin this marriage. Where were those promises of forever when you fucked someone else?” You asked piercing his eyes with yours. He cowered under your glare. Satoru had never been on the receiving end of your wrath and now he understood why most people chose (wisely) to not mess with you. Every single one of your words was chosen carefully to cause the most damage. At the same time… what hurt the most was that you were right.

“Leave and don’t ever come back… you and I… are through…” Satoru noticed how you avoided calling him by his name, he hated it. As if uttering his name would leave a bad taste in your mouth “Y/N…” he whispered pleadingly when you took another step away. But this time he didn’t have the courage to stop you as you disappeared inside your apartment and locked the door behind you.

|||

I bet you wish you had me back! Another chance to gain it, just like that. The best you ever had.

|||

Satoru was fucked.

—————

The next morning Suguru’s plane landed. JFK international airport was as busy and chaotic as one would expect. After collecting his luggage he made his way to a cab giving the driver your current address.

He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink during the trip, his mind swarmed with all the possibilities of what could be happening right now. Satoru didn’t play fair and of course… you loved (probably still love) the lucky bastard.

With a sigh he decided to focus instead on the city going by through the cab’s windows. It wasn’t the first time he was in New York and his mind was much more occupied torturing him instead of appreciating the landscape.

After 40 minutes, Geto stood before a very nice and modern building located in the upper east side called Hawthorn Park. You sure knew how to live in luxury. He approached the doorman and let him know his name and that he was here to see Miss Ekaterina Petrova to which the kind looking old man responded by using his intercom to contact you. Geto was soon granted access and guided to the elevator.

The elevator doors opened on the 21st floor, he walked to the door of your apartment which was already open and you were waiting for him. His smile fell once he noticed you have been crying “oh Kitten” dropping his luggage on the spot he surrounded your body in his arms “I’m so sorry…” one didn’t need to be a genius to know Satoru had found you.

You both moved inside your apartment. Settling on the spacious couch you buried your face on Suguru’s lap as you cried. He stroked your now darker strands of h/c hair without a word exchanged. He knew you needed to let it all out. After what seemed an eternity you sat back up. Suguru gently dried your eyes.

“He was here last night…” you whispered in a raw and scratchy voice, result of your endless hours of distress before his arrival “he told me he loved me, that he left Sookie” scoff “and hear this… he left her because the baby wasn’t his!” Talk about karma at its best. Suguru already knew that but he was surprised to hear Satoru had come clean about it to you “He probably thought I would fall for that! But I didn’t” you added firmly.

Suguru was proud of you. He knew how hard it was for you to resist Satoru but you stood tall and proud when it mattered the most. “What do you want to do now?” Where you planning on moving again?

“I’m not leaving…” you said looking into Suguru’s liquid amber gaze. You couldn’t help but notice once again he had such pretty eyes, like a cat. You’ve always liked them, specially when they looked at you with such tenderness. You have missed him dearly during all this time.

“I can’t keep running away from him; I mean… it’s obvious he won’t stop and I… I am tired of molding my life to adapt to his whims. I’m staying here whatever happens. Sugu… I got the part for the Swan Lake!” You added remembering you haven’t talked to him during the last week and so he didn’t know about your latest accomplishment.

Geto’s eyes enlarged before a huge smile split his handsome face and his massive frame engulfed you in a tight hug. Of course he knew everything about ballet, he was your best friend after all. This was huge! Probably as big as making it in the ballet world meant “I’m so proud of you Kitten!” He said excitedly kissing your temple. Maybe not everything was as bad as he thought.

You were upset, it was true. But then again you were not prepared last night. Satoru had taken you by surprise. Now… you knew he was here and more or less knew what to expect from your soon to be ex-husband.

“Thank you Sugu…” you stopped and pulled back just slightly to look into his eyes from your height. He was a very tall man compared to you “I missed you” you said with a bright smile to which Geto replied with one of his own before pulling you in again for another hug “I missed you too Kitten” stroking your back softly Suguru decided he was happy to be here… with you.

https://youtu.be/3oSXqLgoSq4

youtube

|||

She's given up, been holding on for way too long

She's had enough

He's coming home again

But it's too late 'cause she won't stay with him

|||

The sunshine hitting his face was what woke him up. With a grunt Satoru rolled over on his side only to fall unceremoniously from the couch where he had passed out last night. The last thing he remembered was warping back to his hotel after you left him on the roof. The memory of you, turning your back on him and walking away squeezed his heart in a painful grasp.

Alcohol was never something he was attracted to, he liked to keep his brain constantly alert and stimulated. It served a purpose of course, it kept his infinity barrier on at all times, even when he was asleep. But last night he hit rock bottom. He didn’t care anymore…

As soon as he got back to the hotel, hopelessness made a home in his chest, sitting heavy on his heart. Walking to the fully stocked bar placed on the corner of his suite he opened a bottle of whiskey. He started slow since most everything was too bitter for his taste, so he went through the process of trying every single bottle until he found something to his liking.

Two hours and about fifteen different shots of everything he decided to settle for a bottle of Amaretto, some fancy Italian liquor made of apricot kernels. It was sweet.

Everything else after that was blur. Moving his sore body from the floor he forced himself to go to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help ease his misery. Peeling off his clothes the smell of booze clinging on them made Gojo cringe. He decided to brush his teeth before showering. Looking in the mirror he couldn’t recognize the man starring back at him. He was a mess.

|||

Are we just ghosts out in the night?

Are we just waiting for a light that doesn't shine?

Are we just faking or is this real?

'Cause I don't know how to feel

Are we just ghosts now, you and I?

|||

Last night he had been so desperate, so hopeless and broken hearted. That’s when it hit him… his wife didn’t hurt him, she didn’t cheat on him (unlike himself), she didn’t do anything to him and yet he was feeling as if the world was collapsing around him. He lied, cheated and fucked up everything for them both.

Guilt…

Unadulterated, burning and suffocating guilt was consuming him. He felt bad before but it wasn’t until last night that he grasped the concept that Y/N didn’t owe him anything at all and that HE didn’t deserve it anyways.

The plan originally had been to get back in your good graces by doing penitence, submitting to your every whim and desire by becoming your devoted slave for as long as you would have it. He never even considered the possibility that his wife DID NOT WANT to forgive him in the first place.

He thought you left to give him a lesson, that you would eventually come back to him after he had a taste of what it was like to lose you.

But even after you both shared such a searing kiss, so passionate that every cell in his body was humming, aflame with desire you still managed to walk away from him as if it meant nothing to you.

What good did it do to him to be the strongest when he couldn’t even protect his wife… from himself.

After showering, changing clothes and ordering every sweet pastry and desert from the room service menu Gojo stopped to rethink his strategy.

What?…

Did you think he was going to stop there?

Absolutely no, love!

If anything, your rejection had only fueled his need to get you back.

“Time for plan B” sighing he pulled out his phone it rang a couple times before someone answered “good morning Mrs. Mazzo, this is Gojo Satoru. I’m going to need you to forward to me Miss Petrova’s rehearsal schedule…”

—

“This is really good!” You hummed happily after swallowing a bite of your steak. Suguru sat across from you at Keens Steakhouse, with a grin he watched as you indulged yourself in what you called your ‘cheat meal’ of the month. Being a professional ballerina was a tough and demanding commitment that controlled every aspect of your life, from how you train to what you eat. Despite it all, Geto knew you always found a happy balance that worked just fine for you.

Seeing your big smile made his heart jump in his chest, you were as beautiful and alluring as the day he met you. If only he had told you he liked you before Satoru did. This question kept him up at night, playing all sorts of scenarios in his mind. If he had taken the first step… would things have been different? Would you have ended up together? Married? Shaking his head he tried to focus on what you were actually saying. Deviating his thoughts to that kind of scenarios was dangerous. He also didn’t want to push it when he was perfectly aware you were still healing; he wasn’t a low life piece of shit to take advantage of your vulnerability.

But when you smiles at him as if he was the only thing in your world, when you held his hand across the table, playing with his finger, his throat felt dry and tight.

“What do you think Sugu?” Your curious and expecting eyes caught him like a deer in the headlights “I’m sorry Kitten, I was distracted. Could you repeat that please?” He asked with an affable smile.

You chuckled and stroke his hand softly “you look tired, did you sleep at all in the plane?” He shook his head “no, I didn’t. I never can, it’s uncomfortable” he hid on purpose the true reason why he hadn’t been able to sleep “come on Sugu! Let’s go back home! I bet you are tired” you said offering him a sweet smile.

After paying your bill you walked the few blocks back home. Suguru of course would be staying with you in the spare room of your penthouse. Holding hands while you talked to him about the activities the city had to offer, your schedule and how you intended to fit the time to do some tourism with him. “You don’t have to bother Kitten, I know you are busy enough with your job, I will be fine” he insisted.

You stopped on your tracks and stood in front of him, pouting, making him chuckle. You looked every bit the kitten he knew you to be, all bothered and moody “no! I want to spend time with you too you know! I haven’t seen you in so long! I’m not going to waste this chance!” You insisted to which Suguru threw his hands up in the air “I surrender Kitten! Do with me as you will” you giggled and then blushed. “Uh… eh… ok! I will!” He took your hand again and you both resumed your walk.

Satoru warped to the roof top of the building adjacent to yours, the lights were out in your apartment and he couldn’t sense your presence inside. You left? Where did you go?

Before a second though he warped inside your apartment but he saw all your stuff was still there, maybe you went out for groceries or something?

After a few minutes sitting on your couch he decided to wait for you on the street so he could see when you got home.

(Almost an hour later)

Oh… he wasn’t ready for what he saw.

“That mother fu….” Satoru grinds his teeth watching you walk down the street holding onto Suguru’s hand while talking distractedly. From his hiding spot in front of your building he closed his hands in a tight fist.

Well, this complicated things… a lot more.

————-> Chapter 10

———————————-

@sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

@thatsharklovingwoman

@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

@syynnaaah

@shaylove418

@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

#jjk #jjk Gojo #Gojo Satoru #gojo #Satoru #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo saturo x reader #geto smut #geto x y/n #geto suguru #jjk suguru #getou suguru x y/n #Youtube

171 notes · View notes

jimlingss · 4 years ago

Note

Happy Holidays! Can you write a Jimin hybrid Au? I love you and your fics!

Every day, we stray closer to being a furry.

↳ Floof’s Tail

3k || 80% Fluff, 20% Angst || Park Jimin || Hybrid!AU

You’re beaming with excitement.

The first time you saw her through the glass window, you thought she was just a visitor. You were so happy when she wanted to play with you and only you. And you were even more ecstatic when she came a second time days later. You spent time together for hours on end, just like many of the other humans that came around to keep you and the other hybrids company.

But unlike them, she adopted you.

You still can’t believe you now have a home, something to call yours, and an owner that you love so much.

Soyeon stops in the hall and her hand lifts to pet you, gesture affectionate and eyes loving. You lean into her touch, and she smiles before withdrawing away much to your disappointment.

“This is it, Y/N.”

Her arms motion theatrically to the door, and then she pulls out her keys with a grin. “This is my home and it’s going to be your home from now on too.”

Your tail is practically wagging and you look at the gray door, loving what’s inside already without needing to see it. You don’t remember much of the street name or the apartment building, but you know that it’s the seventh floor, that it seems super nice from the outside, and they’ll probably be big windows looking out at the city. Not to mention from the drive here, there’s also a park close by!

You can’t wait.

The door opens.

Soyeon brings in your small bag along with the other stuff she bought for you at the store, and then she turns around to beckon you to come in, smiling softly. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Y/N.”

This is a dream. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and wished for. An owner. A home. A place to call your own. But you should’ve known, nothing is what it seems.

The moment you step inside, you’re hit with a thick scent. It slams into you, choking your lungs and overwhelming your senses. Warm and earthy, like vanilla and the trees at the park after a rainy day in Spring. You don’t know why you didn’t notice before. It always lingered on Soyeon, a scent underneath her laundry fabric softener and sweet perfume. Maybe you had unconsciously ignored it because you wanted so desperately to be hers.

But of course, someone as perfect as Soyeon would have another dog.

Before you can dart out the door, she calls for him. “Jimin!”

He comes barreling out of the hall with a big smile and his tail wagging.

Only, he stops short a meter away with his eyes pin-pointed on you. His grin instantly falls, ears drooping. His brows furrow as if to ask ‘what the hell is this’.

Soyeon smiles. “Y/N, this is Jimin.”

Jimin is a dog hybrid just like you. You can tell by the triangle ears on the top of his head that’s a slightly darker shade than the blonde hair that falls over his forehead. His face is round, cheeks full and his lips are pouty. But his brown eyes are mean. They’re half-lidded and glaring at you.

“Jimin, this is our new puppy, Y/N.”

“Leave!” he suddenly barks at you, growling at the back of his throat. You yelp, ears pressed flat on your head and you jump to cower behind Soyeon who’s bigger and taller than you are.

“Jimin,” Soyeon scolds in a low tone.

But he isn’t dissuaded and steps closer to you with one large stride.

Your back hits the door, fear making your eyes grow round. He’s much larger than you are and his scent is thicker too. Jimin’s nose twitches, but before he can get to you, Soyeon blocks his way.

More sternly than before she commands, “Jimin, stop.”

Soyeon takes your hand, turns around and shushes you. “It’s okay, it’s okay, don’t worry,” she coos and then shifts to the other hybrid. “Stay right there, Jimin.”

He glares as Soyeon leads you away, down the hall into a room. But he doesn’t move.

“This is my room and the place that’ll be yours too.” She shuts the door and realizes your distressed expression. “Everything will be okay,” Soyeon tries to reassure and comes to brush a hand through your hair. Then she looks over to the small bag she had dragged with her and lights up. “Oh, here’s your kitty cat.”

It’s a tattered stuffed toy you’ve had since you were born in the shelter, but the moment she passes it to you, you hug it and find comfort. Your heart begins to slow back to its normal pace and Soyeon smiles, seeing that you’ve eased.

“Get yourself settled, okay? I’ll be a second. I just have to talk to Jimin.”

“Okay.”

Her room is large with plenty of space. There’s a massive bed bigger than you’ve ever seen and a TV opposite of it. By the other wall, there’s a bookshelf, vanity, and desk with a computer. There’s a walk-in closet, dresser and another door to a bathroom too. It’s everything anyone could ever need in one room.

You marvel at your surroundings before staring out the enormous glass window.

But your ears perk. Outside the room, there’s muffled voices.

You shuffle your feet over the door and you pick up what’s being said.

“—your friend and heat partner.”

“I don’t need a friend or a heat partner!”

“Jimin. This….this isn’t the way to act.”

There’s a long sigh and you hear steps coming down the hall. You step back and Soyeon opens the door before shutting it. She looks at you with your eyes on the ground, tail drooping and your ears pressed to your head again.

“It’s okay,” she suddenly says in a higher-pitched voice. You head lifts to her and she smiles, petting you softly behind the ear. “Jimin’s really sweet and kind, I promise. You just have to get used to each other.”

You nod.

Soyeon asks, “Do you want snacks?”

Your eyes widen and your head bobs more enthusiastically.

...

Soyeon does a good job of distracting you. She pets you, plays with you, shows you her room and the connected bathroom. The TV has you especially captured for a while, but you’re broken out of your trance when you hear knocking on the door. Followed by scratching.

And then there’s Jimin’s whine.

Soyeon looks at you and says. “I’ll be right back.”

She slips away and you’re left by yourself again.

Deep down, you know you shouldn’t get too comfortable. This isn’t your home.

…

“Yes. I tried to introduce them, but it isn’t going as well as I thought it would.”

Soyeon’s voice is quiet, barely above a murmur. Yet it’s enough to stir you from your sleep and your eyes flutter a few times before you see her outline standing in the corner. She’s facing the wall with her phone pressed to her ear. You don’t know what time it is but it’s still dark outside.

“My other dog, he’s a guard dog, but he’s more possessive than I thought—….okay…..okay. Oh, alright. Yeah.”

She stops talking and you shut your eyes again, pretending you didn’t hear.

When Soyeon turns around, she doesn’t see the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

The sheets, the pillow, the blanket, it all smells like Jimin. Even if you’re stowed away in this room for the rest of your life and kept separate, the walls have already been plunged with his scent.

...

You don’t realize you’ve drifted back to sleep until you wake up with the sunshine on your face.

And your heart feels full when you see Soyeon right there with you. You’ve never been taken care of so closely by someone before, never been solely doted on, never had someone call you in such a soft voice and look at you that lovingly. And she chose you. But you don’t let yourself become too happy. Not when there was someone else on the other end of the apartment.

Still, you very much like it when Soyeon smiles and sweetly chimes, “Rise and shine.”

You rub your eyes, voice still sleepy, “Morning.”

As you sit up from your spot on the bed, your nose twitches. Your pupils instantly dart to a wool sweater draped at the back of the desk chair. It smells strong. Stronger than the rest of the room.

Soyeon follows your line of sight. “Oh. I thought you looked cold in that dress. I ordered you new clothes, but they’ll arrive later tonight. Do you want to wear that for the time being?”

“M-Maybe later.”

She nods. “Are you hungry?”

You nod enthusiastically and the corner of her lips quirk.

As she leaves to get you food, you stare at the sweater. It looks softer than the blankets and much warmer too. Before you can think twice, you approach slowly, feet cold on the floorboards.

You hesitantly sink your hand into the plush fabric of the sweater.

It doesn’t bite you. No one yells.

You pick it up and bring it to your nose, inhaling deeply. It actually smells….good. Comforting.

Soyeon grins when she returns with a tray of food, noticing the sweater slipped on top of your dress.

Halfway through your meal, she looks at your stuffed cat and boops its black nose. “Hey, Y/N. Would you mind if Jimin took a look at this? I think he’d really like it.”

You shift uncomfortably. “I don’t know.”

“I have other toys for you, like the sheep.” She plops down the white stuffie next to you that looks like a huge cotton ball. You picked it out yourself, but still… “I’ll only borrow this one for a few hours.”

It takes a second, then you’re nodding. “Okay then.”

Soyeon’s hand lifts to gently ruffle your hair. “Thank you.”

…

After breakfast, you watch TV as Soyeon cleans up and probably attends to Jimin on the other side of the wall. But no later is she returning to play with you. The two of you end up reading a story as you cuddle up to her. She shows you how to play a game on her laptop too. But then all of it is interrupted when the phone rings.

Your ears perk and you flinch from the loud sound.

Soyeon picks it up and stands in the corner of the room. “Hello?” There’s silence and then she’s sighing. “What do you mean, Taehyung? I put the file on your desk before I left.” A long pause has you worried. “It should be somewhere in our email correspondence. Figure it out.”

“No. I can’t come in! I’m on personal leave for the next two weeks, remember?” Her voice moves up a pitch and you wince. Soyeon’s clearly upset and you hate it. “Ugh. I hate you. I swear to god, Kim.”

She hangs up.

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

“I have to go into work, but I’ll be back in an hour.” She’s frantically rushing around, entering her closet and emerging with a blouse, pants and a coat. Still, she finds the time to come over to you and she presses a kiss on top of your forehead. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“It’s okay. I can wait.” You muster a smile, trying to make her feel better. After all, she’s done her best to comfort you. Now you want to do the same to her.

“It’ll just take a jiffy. Be back before you know it.” Soyeon steps towards the door. “Don’t leave the room, okay, Y/N?”

You nod.

Soyeon leaves a few moments later. You hear footsteps in the hall, muffled voices and then the larger door shutting. Instantly, you become drowned in silence without the television or the laptop or Soyeon’s comforting voice and soothing hands petting you. You’re abandoned.

On the other side of the wall is someone who hates you and wishes you were gone.

The truth that’s been blaring in your head becomes noisier than ever: this isn’t your home.

Maybe what she said was just an excuse. Maybe the phone call was an act and maybe Soyeon hates you too. Maybe you’re more problematic than she expected, and she’ll return you to the shelter tomorrow or even today. You wouldn’t blame her if she did. Soyeon probably wanted someone to get along with Jimin and you’re too much of a handful for her.

You don’t realize you’re crying until it’s gotten so loud that it’s deafening to your own ears. But you can’t help the wails choking out of your sobbing chest or the tears streaming down your face. You lay curled up in the bed, ears pressed to your head as you clutch your toy to your chest.

Through your clouded vision, you don’t notice the bedroom door opening. Not until you hear—

“You know she’s not leaving forever, right?”

Instantly, you jolt and scramble back on the bed. Until your back hits the headboard, pillows bent underneath you.

Jimin looks at you, eyeing the way you’re wearing his sweater, and he swallows hard. “She’s supposed to leave five to six hours a day. Sometimes more, sometimes less. But she always comes back.”

You whimper and he frowns.

“Stop making those noises.”

“I can’t help it,” you hiccup and rub your eyes. “W-Will she make me go back?”

“What?”

“The shelter. Will she leave me if we don’t get along?”

Jimin shifts his weight from one foot to another, expression almost uncomfortable. But he says, “Soyeon’s not that kind of owner.”

You hiccup and snivel, unable to make the lump in your throat go away. “I...I just want a home.”

You almost start to cry again, but then Jimin extends his arm. You see him holding your kitty cat. “I think this is yours,” he says and you nod, teary-eyed. He points to your body. “That’s my sweater. You’re not supposed to touch it.”

You look down, not sure if you should take it off. But you’re too scared to move.

At once, the concern vanishes. Jimin takes a step towards you and your spine and ears straighten on reflex. Then he takes another. You whimper and his brows furrow again. “Stop it. I won’t bite you.”

He places the kitty cat on the edge of the bed and in a moment where your courage has swelled, you lurch forward to grab it. Immediately, you withdraw and hold it to your chest.

You frown when you realize how much it smells like him.

You’re too busy paying attention to your toy to see the bed dip. To see Jimin crawling closer to you. Not until he’s facing you, practically nose to nose. Your back hits the headboard once more and your breath hitches. But instead of being barked at or bitten, Jimin leans in. You feel a tickle as his nose sniffs at your neck.

You release your breath, unable to hold it any longer and when you inhale, you smell him.

Jimin’s scent is warm and earthy, like vanilla and trees at the park after a rainy day in Spring. When you’re not scared, it actually smells really nice. Even if you don’t want to admit it.

Jimin sniffs at your neck incessantly with his nose and then at your hair. You whine, slumping downwards, and he practically hovers over you, caging your frame in with his arms, smelling down your body.

The tip of his nose travels from the valley of your breasts down your tummy. He pauses at the apex of your thighs, right where your underwear is and you shut your legs together.

You’re vulnerable beneath him and you’re not sure clutching the two toys to your chest will do much good in protecting you if he decides to attack. But when Jimin’s done, he looks at you and simply says, “You smell like flowers.”

“Is that bad?”

He pauses. “No. But I like it when things smell like me.”

You gasp when he suddenly leans in, brushing his cheek against yours, nuzzling into you. It tickles and you can’t help but giggle. Jimin’s ears perk at the bubbly sound and his tail starts to wag. The toys roll off your chest, and they’re left beside you when you let go. You wiggle and shift away from him, yet he pounces after you with a smile on his face.

You laugh, managing to dodge his arms and slip off the bed.

But Jimin’s much too fast and swift for your liking. He corners you by the closet with an enormous grin on his face, half-moon eyes lit up in mischief. Before you can dart to the left, he snatches your waist and follows after you as you collapse on the soft carpet.

Jimin brushes his cheek against yours, the weight of his body pressed to yours with a knee placed between your parted thighs. You’re never going to completely smell like him, not when you have your own scent, so you’re not sure why he’s trying so hard. But you don’t mind.

You take the chance to smell him too, nose twitching at his neck. A hum leaves the back of your throat as you allow yourself to become immersed in the comforting scent.

...

When Soyeon comes home an hour later, she’s surprised that Jimin isn’t already waiting at the door or doesn’t come barreling out to greet her. It’s much too quiet. She doesn’t have a good feeling.

Blood drains from her face when she walks down the hall and she sees the bedroom door wide open. The woman rushes inside, nearly tripping her feet, mouth falling open.

Yet the words die in her throat and a smile lifts onto her features when she sees Jimin cuddling you. The pair of you are fast asleep.

#bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin fluff #jimin hybrid AU #bts hybrid AU #bts scenario #bts fluff #jimin reader insert #cherry-lala #Jimlings #aka. Jimin is a guard dog and our OC is a lap dog :(

550 notes · View notes

call-sign-shark · 1 year ago

Text

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD… SHARK’S ABOUT TO DIE. Okay okay I just finished editing Hey Bunny pt. 2 and was about to go to sleep when I got your notification and I just had to read the whole thing, and now I’m like trying not to squeal cause my partner is sleeping next to me and my cat would also be scared. I’m so excited and I liked it so much that it’s going a be long-ass comment so… Sorry for that. Also sorry if my rambling doesn’t make sense but it’s 3AM here.

First of all I adored the way you traced back Arthur and Y/N’s childhood, with the depiction of him being her fierce protector since they were kid and that he was always two steps behind her. The childhood crush that turned into an obsession is perfectly illustrated by the short flashback of Tommy and Arthur in France. Even in the midst of war, he can’t stop thinking about her and already goes crazy because of his obsession. The image of him on the ground holding his aching head between his hands is powerful.

What I particularly appreciate here is the escalation of horrors, cause you portrayed Arthur kinda soft and adorable at first — like almost falling on his own feet while he runs behind Y/N. Or helping her with the basket. Or his worries about her losing weight and having to work so hard. He was quite endearing, if one forgot about the disturbing evidence you’ve scattered in your wonderful prose. I especially think about how he’s blinded by his vengeance, to the extent that Tommy allows him to complete it for the sake of his brother’s sanity. Little he knew, it will only make him sink deeper into madness and obsession.

The character of James is also very interesting, since he’s presented as an unlikeable character who might be abusive, and who has an very rude way of behaving (such as poking the window with his cane to call his wife when he sees her talking with Arthur). But to be true your wonderful writing skills left me questioning reality: was she really abused by James or do we see her wounds through Arthur’s eyes, who convinced himself she was a lady in distress and that he needed to save her? I don’t know if I’m being right or it’s intentional since hints at James being abusive are numerous, but I can’t help to wonder since Arthur is an unreliable narrator. Also I love how you kept Y/N’s feelings very platonic. It strengthened his désillusion since she’s never done anything to make him think she was interested in him.

Literally speaking, your wonderful one shot is filled with beautiful sentences and incredibly great images. Kudos for the depiction of Arthur walking to her just like a preying animal. I think my favorite line is “He looked at you like an animal caught with a prey freshly killed between his jaw” (approximative quote since I’m on my phone) That was so evocative, so well-fitting that I smiled like an idiot. You know I just love the comparison of Arthur with dangerous carnivorous animals. Similarly, I am in love with the focus you brought to little details such as the way he washes his hands from the blood or how Y/N observe the blood under his finger nails.

The sparkle of desire stirred by violence and by his obsession was also a very great scene — and it seems canon despite it being a dark portrayal. The way he goes for her neck, kissing her with passion and truly believing she would do likewise was a great dive into his twisted psyche. You said my Yandere!Arthur was frightening, but god you did a better job and now I’m afraid (and slightly aroused but don’t mind me). That being said, the use of gifs was a brilliant idea and made the story even more immersive. Especially the last one with Arthur burning papers.

That last scene sent shivers down my spine. Not only it was traumatizing and so tragic for Y/N to see him burn her tickets for a better life before proposing to her, but the image of Arthur and his brothers standing in the dark is HORRIFYING. I don’t know why but the detail that got me scared was John’s cigar burning and the way he just casually laughed at the whole situation.

Alright I’ve probably forgot a lot of things but dear Lee, this gave me a dopamine rush. Also, this reblog is already too long 🤣 But know that this one shot was exquisite and I can’t describe how much I loved it. Top 3 of best Arthur’s story for sure. Thank you so much for sharing!!

Say Yes to Heaven

dark!Arthur x female reader

Summary: Your childhood friend, Arthur, is deeply upset by the way your boyfriend is treating you and decides to take matters into his own hands in order to save you. However, his protection soon grows into an unhealthy obsession.

Author’s Note: An idea I had to explore dark!Arthur in a different way.

Warnings: drinking, drug use, unreliable narrator, mention of domestic abuse, mention of blood, yandere tendencies

France, 1917

“Arthur, stop pacing, you’re making the other lads nervous,” Tommy commanded, stamping out his cigarette.

“I can’t help it, Tom,” Arthur replied, biting his lip anxiously, taking another swig from the small bottle the doctor had prescribed.

Tommy wrenched it from his hands. “Stop it, man. You don’t need that stuff.”

Arthur clenched his jaw in frustration, turning his head away as he replied, “I do though. Need to forget I’m here when she’s back home…with him.”

Tommy shook his head in disbelief as he poured away the opium and bromide solution. Might keep Arthur from wanking about her, but it didn’t give him the readied solider he needed, he thought with a roll of his eyes.

“Nah, you don’t understand what could happen to a girl like her if I’m not there to protect her,” Arthur asserted.

“Then see to it when you get home, but don’t get yourself killed worrying about some girl who seemed happy when we left,” Tommy huffed.

Arthur’s eyes went wild at the suggestion, pushing his brother up against the trench. “You think she were happy with a piece of shit like him who don’t know how to treat her? Or have you forgot what men like that do? Like dad was with mum?” he asked, lower lip trembling.

Tommy sighed seeing there was no use arguing. “I didn’t say that, did I? I just said to make it home alive.” Then he pushed his older brother from him, watching his sibling crash to the ground, holding his aching head. Tommy knew if vengeance was what his brother wanted, he would have it. Arthur was never one to let go of a grievance.

—————————————-

Birmingham, 1919

“Esme, I need the black star list,” Arthur said in a low voice, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet as he might before a fight, ready and eager for the first punch. She barely looked up as she pushed the slip of paper across the desk, unaware of what it meant to him. He immediately scanned the list for the name of his foe, heartbeat thundering in his chest with the anticipation of a righteous victor. However, it was not to be his day.

When Arthur realized the name he sought was not on the list, he emitted a low growl of displeasure. “He fucking owes, I know he does,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Something wrong, Arthur?” Esme asked, looking up from her work in confusion.

Thinking for a moment he shook his head. “Tommy’s made a mistake, but I’ll make it right,” he assured her.

“What do you mean?” she asked with furrowed brow, but Arthur was already out the door.

——————————-

Arthur’s agitation was momentarily quelled by the sight of you walking down Watery Lane, the morning sunlight streaming through your hair. Your angelic face gave him pause, but only long enough to notice what he swore was a fresh bruise blooming just below your right elbow. His heart clenched as he noticed you wincing under the weight of the basket you carried and he was instantly transported to childhood. When you were eight and he was ten, he would rush out into the street to help you carry a bucket of ale home to your father. He knew the punishment for spilled beer and he couldn’t allow it to happen to someone so soft and delicate. Your large doe eyes urged him to treat you carefully, offering his protection whenever he could.

Approaching carefully so as not to startle you, he removed his cap to greet you. A wide smile overtook his features when you acknowledged him, a feeling of warmth radiating through his chest from a simple glance from you.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he asked with a softness reserved just for you.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you replied brightly. As he stood twisting his cap nervously in his hands without anything more to say, you bid him goodbye and continued down the street.

“Where are you headed?” Arthur asked eagerly, nearly tripping over his own feet as he rushed after you. He was enamored with you, openly staring at your beauty, and it made you blush. Arthur had a crush on you since you were kids which you found endearing. You couldn’t understand how others could be frightened of him in the slightest, despite your friends’ constant warnings a Shelby brother was dangerous company.

“I have to return to the shop. I shouldn’t keep James waiting,” you said, thinking of how busy the morning rush could be.

Arthur furrowed his brow, as he remembered the scorching heat of the ovens and the callouses on your hands. He hated the thought of you having to work so hard. As his shoulder bumped against yours, he felt your bone poke back against him and worry began to consume him. He wanted to ask if you’d eaten that morning or in the last week, but thought better of it.

“How’s business?” he asked instead.

“As well as can be expected when people are still recovering from the war. James was a great help after father died though,” you praised, shifting the basket to your other arm with a grunt.

“Let me help you with that. Looks heavy, love,” Arthur commented, trying to be useful.

However, by that time you were standing in front of the shop. James peered out the front window at you, raising his cane to tap against the glass. “I have to go now, Arthur, but thank you for walking with me,” you said quickly before disappearing inside. Arthur looked up and scowled at the man in the window, taking note of the object most likely used to mark your skin. “Fucking cunt…” he hissed, clenching his fists at his side.

————————————————-

“Are there any other orders of business?” Tommy asked before attempting to close the family meeting.

“Yeah, I’ve got somethin to say,” Arthur spoke up, voice coursing with urgency.

“Well, what is it?” Tommy said impatiently, squinting cautiously through the smoke from his cigarette to study his older brother.

“When do we go after James Miller, eh? It’s been six bloody months,” Arthur sniffed disgustedly.

“James Miller? He has no outstanding debts,” Lizzie said, opening a file in front of her and scrunching her nose as she followed a column of names with her finger.

“It’s not about money. It’s about reputation, Lizzie. Ain’t that right, Tommy?” he said, looking to his brother expectantly. “The Peaky Blinders keep order round here now and James Miller ain’t playin by the bloody rules.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose as he began to see where the conversation was heading. “Arthur, we’ve been through this already. Y/n hired James Miller as a legitimate employee. Who are we to tell her how to run her fucking bakery? Who gives a fuck?” he said, stamping out his cigarette and turning to grab his jacket off the chair.

Arthur stood a bit too quickly, nearly overturning his seat in his haste. “I give a fuck because he’s taken what isn’t his! Making her work night and day and taking all the profits.” He grabbed Tommy’s arm to make his brother look him in the eye as he stressed, “He’s hurtin’ her too, I know it.”

Tommy took note of the pain in Arthur’s eyes. He was well aware that there were nights Arthur drank himself into a stupor, rambling about his love for Y/n. As far as he was concerned, she was the only woman in the world and he would fight to the death for her. If allowing him this one victory might bring Arthur’s mind back to business, Tommy decided to agree.

Tommy clamped a hand over Arthur’s and gave a short nod. “Alright, brother, if you’re certain. I’ll let you handle it the way you see fit.”

“S right. By order of the peaky fucking blinders,” Arthur said, savoring the words as he spoke them, knowing justice was forthcoming.

———————————-

“Open up, by order of the Peaky Blinders!” John called, nearly kicking the door in before James could open it.

“Come here to harass me again have you?” James asked, face red with fury, picking up his cane and waving it at the younger Shelby brother.

“James, stop!” you shouted, rushing out to grab his arm. You placed yourself between him and the peaky blinders as you asked in a small, frightened voice, “What’s this about?”

Arthur gulped as he saw you, hating to have caused you distress. “We don’t mean ya no harm,Y/n,” he said, holding up his hands. You studied his black gloves with suspicion, but decided to trust him based on the pleading look he now gave you. He looked genuinely sorry for the intrusion and you thought the least you could was listen.

“Alright, come in,” you said, opening the door toward him.

Arthur shook his head gently before asking, “A word alone, Y/n?”

James gave you a dire look, but you silenced it with a hand to his shoulder and a kiss to his cheek. “It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” you promised, grabbing your shawl and heading down the steps to meet with Arthur as John stayed behind guarding the door.

“Arthur please tell me what’s happening,” you begged as you walked with him.

Arthur stopped by the alley and reached for your hand tenderly. As he did, your shawl slipped, revealing a burn on your lower arm which you quickly covered. “You don’t have to do this, Y/n. I can help ya,” Arthur offered, stroking his thumb over your knuckles.

“Do what, Arthur?” you asked. He looked so forlorn, but you had no idea why.

Arthur’s head turned back toward your shop as his eyes flashed with sudden hatred. “Be with him!”

You took a step back to see if he were actually serious before realizing, Arthur Shelby was jealous. “Because I love him…” you exclaimed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Look how he treats ya!” he said, jerking his chin toward your injured arm.

“That’s a burn from a hot pan, Arthur,” you explained quietly.

“The hell it is! Why you covering for him?” he grunted. Then he softened as he took your cheek in his hand. “You can tell me, dove. Just cause he was here when your dad passed, don’t mean you have to let him take over. I know I was gone fighting a long time, but I’m home now. I want to be here for ya now…please,” he said, pouring his heart out in a way he didn’t think possible.

You listened intently, thinking of all the times he’d been two steps behind you, your fiercest protector since you were small. However, it was nothing more than a form of sisterly affection you felt for him and you realized you’d have to tell him of your feelings sooner rather than later.

“Oh, Arthur, I know you worry. You always have, but I’m not in trouble, you see. I’m in love and we’re getting married,” you said with an encouraging smile. You searched him for a response, but he remained stone faced before you.

Then suddenly something unexpected happened. Arthur’s features contorted into an expression of pain and his face and neck turned to a deep shade of red as he fixed you with a perplexed look. Unable to contain his humiliation at your rejection he shouted, “There’s no ring on your finger, Y/n. You’re lying to me!”

Your eyes grew wide at the change in him and you shook your head violently. “No, no, of course not! We haven’t the money. That's why I don't have a ring.”

Arthur’s hands snaked upward toward your wrists, restraining you with a punishing grasp as he pushed you further into the alley and up against the cool brick. “You’re lying,” he repeated, hot breath fanning over your face as he moved impossibly close. “You don’t love him,” he said as though he were trying to imprint that fact into your mind.

Tears began to well in your eyes from the shock and the pain of his hold. With quivering lip you looked into his eyes as you whispered a frightened plea. “You’re hurting me, Arthur. Please stop.”

The spark was quickly extinguished and Arthur relinquished his hold, backing away and running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots as he shook himself. “Fook! Fook! God, I’m sorry.”

You wrapped your shawl around yourself tightly as you mumbled, “Goodbye, Arthur,” and scurried away, unsure what to make of the situation.

Arthur stood in the alley for what seemed hours, pacing and plotting, his mind never leaving you. None of what he’d heard could be right. You would come back to him, he was sure of it.

———————————-

The heat from the kitchen was dissipating slowly to mix with the chill of the late evening air. James had gone to take out the rubbish bins and you were waiting for his return as you finished the cleaning. It was another long day and you felt yourself slipping into a soporific state even as you stood cleaning.

Willing yourself to continue, a sudden gust from the open back door blew a solid sheet of rain into your face, causing you to blink and sputter as you fumbled for the door, rain pouring across the threshold. As you grappled with the edge of the door, an unsettling crash came from the alleyway and you turned in a tight circle, looking for James. Instead of your boyfriend, you caught sight of Arthur Shelby, or at least you thought it was him, from his profile. He stood at the corner of your house, washing his hands in the run off from the eaves, scrubbing them clean of what you weren’t entirely sure.

GIF credit @peakykestrel

“Arthur?” you called out in a shaky voice.

His hands froze at the sound of your soft voice, one covering the blood which stained the other. He couldn’t let you see what he’d done, though he knew you’d find out soon enough. Dipping his head low to slough the water off his flat cap, he gazed back up at you with wild eyes like an animal caught with prey still in its jaws.

“Y/n, what’re ya doin’ out here? Thought you’d be in bed by now,” he managed, voice rumbling low like the thunder rolling through the city.

“I heard a noise,” you explained, eyes coming to rest on a broken piece of wood at the bottom of the stairs. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but it appeared to have the carvings of James’ cane and you felt your heart lurch. Arthur’s head tilted at a precarious angle to follow your line of sight, eyes flicking back up to yours and causing a shudder to course through your whole body. Your hands twisted nervously in your apron, feeling very small under his intense scrutiny.

Hiding his hands behind his back, Arthur slowly paced toward you in a stalking motion that made your stomach churn with dread. You shivered as he motioned for you to enter the house. “S too cold for ya out here, love,” he whispered in a voice that sounded far too placid. Then you felt his large hand at the small of your back, shooting electric sparks straight to your feet. Only then did your limbs begin to move in halted jerks with Arthur steering you into the sitting room.

You allowed him to guide you, feeling the grip he held on your elbow as he sat you in a chair by the fireplace. He took care to light it for you before taking a seat opposite you. Then he removed his coat and hat as if to show he had further business to discuss.

Despite the warmth that surrounded you, you shook violently as you asked, “Arthur, what have you done?”

Arthur leaned forward as he removed a flask from his pocket. Taking a long swig of whisky from the silver container to fortify himself, he exhaled sharply, “What should’ve been done a long time ago. I took care of him.”

“No, no…” you begged, catching sight of his bruised knuckles and bloodied shirt fully for the first time.

He rushed to your side to cradle you as your head fell into your hands, rocking yourself as you wondered how you would go on now.

“Let the fear go, love. He can’t hurt you anymore. I’ve got you now,” Arthur whispered into your hair as he cradled your limp body. Running a hand over your hair with his damp hands, he felt a surge of pride course through his veins and it was intoxicating. He had you in his arms as it should always have been.

Feeling a stir of desire, he pressed his face against your neck, kissing you with feverish passion. You recoiled from him in horror, pushing against the side of his face with the heel of your hand. Panting and heaving, you tried to shove him away, but he was much too strong. Finally he pulled away to look at you, rigid and frightened in his embrace.

“Please don’t look at me that way, love,” he begged, capturing your face between his large palms. “I did what I did for you…for us. He was hurtin’ ya. I couldn’t let that go on,” Arthur mused, staring into the fire.

“Arthur, I told you, I loved him. We were happy…,” you said through tears, now streaming down your face. You pulled his hands from you and studied the blood that still remained, trembling at the sight of it around his wrists and under his fingernails. You bit your lip harshly and closed your eyes to steady yourself from being sick at the thoughts running through your mind of how he’d killed James.

Arthur turned to look at you, “You’re confused. He weren’t good for ya, but I am,” he said earnestly. “I can give you a good life. Treat you like a queen, I will if you’ll be my wife. Say yes,” he asked, eyes shining like two bright stars. “To everything I can give ya.”

You took in a shaky breath as you fell back into his arms broken and defeated, how long could you deny him, you wondered? He was a delusional madman and you had to find a way out.

———————————————-

Two months later…

“Oh my God, I can’t thank you enough,” you said through tears, hugging your friend.

“Promise me you’ll go live a good life in America where that prick can never find you,” Celia said with more than a hint of malice. She’d been working tirelessly to secure passage for you by railway and steamliner as well as a new life in New York and now that everything was in order, you would be on your way the following morning, never to set foot in Small Heath ever again.

You packed a bag and went to bed with visions of your new life dancing before your eyes. Life had never felt so peaceful, knowing you were taking charge of your terrible circumstances.

You woke before dawn, pushing yourself out from a cold bed you’d barely slept in and hurried downstairs to collect your case and papers. However, the documents you needed were nowhere to be found. An icy chill clamped over you as you searched, knowing something wasn’t right. Had you left them with Celia in your haste? With only an hour to make it to the train station, you rushed out of the house to see her. However, you didn’t get far.

Arthur stood out front with John and Finn, papers in hand. “Going somewhere?” he asked in a conversational tone that belied his devilish intentions.

“Arthur…” you gulped. “What are you doing?”

“Could ask the same of you, love?” he said. “What’s all this, eh? Having a holiday without me?” he asked without a hint of amusement, shaking the papers he held in his hands.

“I…I was going to tell you about that,” you lied.

“Were you now?” he asked thoughtfully, head turning from the papers to dig into his pocket for something which you quickly realized was a lighter.

You ran toward him screaming “No!” with outstretched hand, as he set the papers ablaze before your very eyes, all hopes of a new life burning before you.

GIF credit @cinematv

“I had my eye on you since we was kids, Y/n. I said she will be mine and nothing will keep us apart,” Arthur said, crushing the papers in his gloved hand. “Nothing,” he reiterated as the ashes fell at his feet. John laughed as the embers of his cigar fell to the ground, joining the tattered remnants of your dignity.

“We’ll have heaven here on Earth, my darling. Just need you to say yes,” Arthur proclaimed, reaching for your trembling hand. He pulled a ring from his pocket and slipped it onto your finger as you shook with fear. "Say yes to heaven," he whispered once more before you fainted.

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

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@christinasyellowflowers

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@cillmequick

@dearshelby

@call-sign-shark

@brummiereader

@peakyltd

@dreamlandcreations

@there-goes-thefighter

@pacifymebby

@emotionalcadaver

@moral-terpitude

@multifandomwriter56

@padfootdaredmetoo

@mythos-writes

@runnning-outof-time

#arthur shelby #Arthur Shelby x reader #10/10 masterpiece #I’m yelling #and throwing up #I love it to the core #lovely Lee 🖤

114 notes · View notes

marauderundercover · 3 years ago

Text

Taking Chances Ch. 21: Apologies (Father’s Day)

AO3

Marinette purses her lips as she looks at the neatly wrapped package in her hand. She knew she should still give it to her dad, shouldn’t let her hurt over the Gala stop her from celebrating Father’s Day with him for the first time. She’d already gotten confirmation from her Maman that her present for her Papa had arrived. So that was taken care of. A small part of her, the petty part, wanted to use Kaalki and go back to Paris for Father’s Day. But she also didn’t want to hurt her dad, no matter how much he’d hurt her. She had to be better than that, she is Ladybug after all. Sighing, she drops the present onto her bed. Grabbing the rest of what she needed for a movie night at one of Jason’s safe houses, she rushes out of her room. She knew that her dad’s conversation with Superman in the Batcave wouldn’t last too long, and then he’d be looking for her and Damian to lecture the hell out of them. Unfortunately for him, neither of them planned to be around to listen to it.

“Got everything Pixie Pop?” Jason asks as she rushes down the last of the steps, barely stopping herself from falling. She quickly balances herself and shoots her brother a small grin.

“Yup. Let’s go before I can get grounded.” She says, rushing past him and out the door, grinning as she hears his loud cackles behind her. It will get better. She’d talk to her dad eventually, and shove the bad feelings away. But she was going to let herself mope for another day. After all, letting herself feel negative emotions was part of the reason her parents agreed to let her stay in Gotham for the summer.

---

“What do you mean there’s an entire movie about you and Cat boy?” Jason asks, shoving another cookie in his mouth. Marinette shrugs.

“I mean we have a movie. It’s not my favorite, it’s kind of ridiculous. None of it is accurate. Except, Adrien did voice Chat Noir for the movie...still not sure why he thought that was a good idea.” She says, thinking back to the original premiere of the movie and all of the drama that came with it.

“Well shit. He’s not the brightest kid, is he?” Jason asks with a snort. Marinette opens her mouth to argue, then remembers some of Adrien’s….less brilliant moments. Okay, so maybe he’s not perfect.

“Ya know, we were once cast as Ladybug and Chat Noir in a music video.” She says, snorting at the look on Jason’s face.

“You’ve gotta be kidding. Really? Kid, please tell me you didn’t go through with it.” He says, looking mildly distressed. Marinette just rolls her eyes.

“No, we didn’t. The concept for the video changed and so no more hero costumes. I was terrified though. Kept losing the mask on purpose ‘cause I was convinced the mask would be what gave it away.” She admits with a small laugh.

“Ya know, that’s almost as bad as the time that someone at WE thought it’d be a good idea to enter B in a Batman look alike contest. Sent in his photo and everything.” Jason says with a snort. Marinette’s jaw drops.

“Wait, really?” She asks. He nods.

“Yup. But that’s not the best part.” He says. Her eyebrows furrowed together. What could possibly be better- Oh. No, oh my-

“He lost, didn’t he!” She cheers, laughing at Jason’s huge smile.

“Of course he did! You didn’t really think Brucie Wayne could ever be THE Batman, did you?” He asks with a smirk.

“Who entered him?” Marinette asks, kind of assuming that Jason did it with Tim’s computer.

“No one could ever prove anything, but Lucius Fox couldn’t stop smiling for weeks after it happened.” Jason says.

“No way, Lucius Fox? Oh my god!” She starts laughing again, the negative feelings from earlier almost completely gone. Disappeared. Times like these, she was beyond relieved that she wasn’t an only child anymore. She doesn’t know how she’d ever function again without her brothers and Cass.

---

Bruce takes a deep breath before knocking on Marinette’s door. He’d spent some time talking to Clark in an attempt to calm down. He still couldn’t believe his two youngest children had gone to the Watchtower without permission...well, he could believe that Damian went. But not Marinette. And then there was her attitude towards him at the Tower. Her posture was very Damian, but her words and tone were very much Jason. He couldn’t decide if he was glad that they were bonding, or frustrated with the way his sons were corrupting his daughter. Not hearing an answer on the other side of the door, he knocks again.

“If?” He says. Alfred nods.

“Marinette, I know you’re angry, but shutting yourself away in your room is not the answer. I’ll give you ten more minutes, but then we need to talk about your behavior today.” He says, nodding to himself. That sounded good. That was right, right?

“I’m certain that wouldn’t work on Miss Marinette even if she was in her room, Master Bruce.” Alfred says, giving him an unimpressed look. Bruce’s eye twitches.

“Indeed, sir. It seems that Miss Marinette will not be sleeping at the manor tonight.” He says, turning to walk away.

“And I’m assuming you know where she is?” Bruce says, doubting that Alfred will actually give up her location. He’d definitely been picking the kids’ side the last two weeks or so. It was different, and he wasn’t fond of the change.

“Of course I do, sir.” Alfred says, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge.

“Will you tell me where she is?” He asks, trying hard not to huff when Alfred shakes his head.

“Of course not, sir.” He says before walking away. Right. So she wasn’t sleeping at the manor, but she was safe. If she wasn’t, Alfred would have told him where she was. He mentally runs through a list of possible places she could be. Dick’s apartment, one of Jason’s safe houses, the Siren’s apartment, Paris- He pales as he realizes that she could definitely be in Paris. Was she really so upset that she would go back to Paris? Would she ever come back if she left? He lets out an uneven breath. He messed up. He messed up and now she was going to go back to Paris and she’d never talk to him again. Unless- maybe she didn’t. Swallowing the guilt that appears at the thought, he pushes her door open. If she had left for Paris, she would’ve taken everything with her. The sight of her clothes and sewing supplies still scattered around the room makes him breathe a sigh of relief. She hadn’t left Not yet. He’s about to walk out when an envelope on her bed catches his eye. Frowning, he walks over and picks it up, ‘Dad’ written on it in neat cursive. Now standing by her bed, he realizes there’s also a neatly wrapped package (Batman wrapping paper) on it. He smiles, then glances back at the envelope. He opens it, smiling at the art on the cardstock. It was clearly Marinette’s art, but he was confused why it was addressed to him.

‘Dad, I just wanted to let you know that I’m so happy you’re my Dad, and I’m so glad that I got to meet you. Finding out that I was adopted was a little scary, but you’ve made sure I’ve been okay through it all. Happy Father’s Day! Love, Marinette’

Bruce blinks. She was scared. If he had to guess, she was most likely scared that the family wouldn’t accept her. They’d been getting along so well, until the Gala mistake. Until he’d decided for her. Assumed she wouldn’t want to go to the Gala. And now she didn’t even want to stay at the manor tonight, and she was angry enough earlier to throw a chair at him. He pushes a hand through his hair, cursing lowly under his breath. He had to fix this.

---

A sharp pounding at the door makes Jason leap off the couch. He holds up a finger and gestures for Marinette to hide. No one should be here. No one else knows which of his safe houses he was at today. Grabbing a gun, he walks over, glancing through the peephole. He scoffs.

“Get the fuck outta here Bruce.” He calls through the door, watching Marinette as she immediately tenses as if she’s gonna run. He shakes his head at her. She didn’t have to run, he sure as hell wouldn’t open the door if she didn’t want him to.

“Jason, open the door. I need to talk to Marinette.” Bruce calls, Jason snorts.

“Yeah, not gonna happen B.” He says.

“I would like to apologize to her.” Bruce says. Jason blinks. That’s new. Did the old man finally figure out that fuck ups warrant apologies? He glances over at Marinette, raising an eyebrow. It was her call. The unsure look on her face almost makes him decide for her. Almost. The kid’d had enough of people deciding shit for her.

“Let him in.” She says. He opens the door, glaring at the man.

“Is it okay if he comes in?” She whispers, and Jason nods.

“Up to you kiddo.” He whispers back. She stands taller, pushing her shoulders back before nodding.

“She’s the one who let you in. Don’t fuck this up.” He warns before stepping aside and letting Bruce walk in.

“Marinette.” He says, nodding at her. Jason groans. Yeah, B was totally gonna fuck this up.

“Father.” She says, shifting so that her arms are crossed, a neutral expression on her face. God, he really hopes her mimicking Demon Spawn is just a phase.

“I would like to preface this conversation by letting you know I went into your room.” Bruce says. Marinette just raises an eyebrow. Yeah, Jason wasn’t seeing the connection either. “I apologize for invading your privacy like that, Damian has definitely reminded me several times that your personal rooms are not to be messed with. However, when Alfred let me know you weren’t sleeping at the manor tonight, I was worried that perhaps you had gone back to Paris.”

“I wouldn’t have gone back without telling you. Well, other than akuma attacks. Do you really think I’d do something like that?” She asks, frowning.

“I know that I’ve done things I’m not proud of when hurt. Things that I came to regret. And I saw earlier today how hurt you actually are. I didn’t realize-” He pauses. “I also read the card that was on your bed.”

“What! No, that was- that was for Father’s Day.” She says with a sigh.

“I didn’t open the gift. I originally thought the envelope would have a note from you on where you had gone. Or that you never wanted to see me again. I thought the chances were pretty even.” He says and Jason snorts.

“Oh, okay. Wait, why would you ever think that? Yes, I was hurt. I still am hurt, if I’m being honest. But I don’t want to cut you out of my life.” She says, shaking her head.

“Nor do I want you out of ours.” Bruce says. Marinette blinks. “I realize now what it must have looked like, to you. Not informing you about the Gala, taking the rest of the family. It was, admittedly, not my best moment. I made a decision for you when I should’ve asked you what you wanted. You could have even come with us as MDC, but I took that option away from you. I am very sorry, Marinette. I am glad that you’re my daughter, sweetheart.” He says and Jason blinks. Well shit. The old man did have feelings. Too bad no one would ever believe him if he tried to say something about it. He watches as the tension in Marinette’s body drops almost instantly before she runs over and launches herself at Bruce. She wraps her arms around him and Jason can see the way her body shakes. Bruce just stands there, staring down at the top of her head in shock.

“You wrap your arms around her.” Jason snarks. Bruce blinks before listening, returning Marinette’s hug. Well, they were still dysfunctional as hell, but at least now he’d be able to take Pixie Pop to the manor without feeling like an asshole brother.

---

Marinette bounces nervously in her seat as she watches her brothers hand her dad presents. She’s shocked when Jason hands over a small gift, knowing that the two’s relationship wasn’t….great. She leans forward in anticipation, watching and waiting to see what he’d picked out.

“Thank you, Jason. Clark will never let me live this down.” Her dad says, the fondness in his tone not matching the frown on his face. He turns the box around and the room erupts in laughter. Somehow, Jason had found a company that made customizable bobbleheads. The body was probably just a stock body, dressed in civilian clothes with a superman suit peaking through the shirt. And the head, the head was hilarious. It was very obviously crafted to look like their dad, specifically with his ‘Brucie Wayne’ smile. It was awful and amazing at the same time.

“I think Jaybird wins best gift.” Dick says with a grin.

“Tt. Unlikely. The new katana that Cass and I gave him is obviously superior.” Damian says, crossing his arms.

“I don’t know Damian, I still haven’t given him my present.” She points out, grinning at the slight frown on Damian’s face.

“While I doubt your present could be better than mine, there is no doubt it will be better received than Todd’s.” Damian says. Marinette snorts at the look on Jason’s face.

“Listen Demon Spawn, there’s this thing called humor. That’s what my gift had. I know you wouldn’t know anything about humor, so let me explain it to you.” He starts, and Marinette jumps in to cut him off before they can start arguing. It was Father’s Day, the least they could do is avoid fighting with each other for a couple more hours.

“And this one’s from me.” She says, passing him the present wrapped in Batman wrapping paper. She grins as Tim and Dick both laugh, not having seen it before now.

“I think Mari might win just ‘cause of the paper.” Tim admits, taking a large drink of his iced coffee that Marinette had picked up for him. She’d had to fight an akuma right before they started presents, so she’d stopped and got Tim coffee from the shop that he’d tried when they’d all been in Paris. She watches in anticipation as her dad carefully unwraps the box, opening it and pulling out the black suit jacket. He smiles at her.

“Did you make this? It’s amazing.” He says, and her brothers nod in agreement (though Damian does so reluctantly).

“Look at the inside of it.” She says, gesturing for him to unfold it. His eyebrow twitches, but he does as she says. She watches his face for the moment he spots it, and grins when his face drops into a wide smile. On the inside of the left side of the jacket, she’d added a breast pocket. It wasn’t really for anything though. Instead, it was so that she could embroider all of his children’s names in a way so that it would rest above his heart. The jacket also had tiny bat logos embroidered at the cuffs of the jacket. The thread was shiny and very dark so that it would barely show up against the black of the jacket. It had to be lit just right to see it, but as he tilted the jacket again, she knew he saw it. It had taken longer than suit jackets normally do for her, but it was because she knew that it had to be perfect. It was, after all, the first piece of clothing she’d made for her dad.

“It’s perfect, Marinette.” He says softly, running a hand over the names. She lets out a sigh of relief before smiling at him. Things were still a little rough, but they were so much better than they’d been the night of the Gala. She was glad that she had stayed, that she hadn’t ran like she had so badly wanted to.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @trippingovermyfeet @mizzy-pop @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 @lady-bee-fechin

115 notes · View notes

olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years ago

Text

Into The Unknown, Part 5

First

Tim finished up pretty quickly.

After all, all the baby toys seemed to just be different variations of each other. Some crinkle, some make sounds, some squish, some… do nothing at all? Tim had no clue how he used to get by as a kid.

He ended up getting Damian three toys:

A tiny rubber duck. He’s almost completely sure that Marinette would have bought one if Tim hadn’t. At least when he was the one buying it he could opt to get the Darth Vader one (Damian had always been woefully uncultured, this was his one chance to make the kid watch sci-fi without risking getting stabbed).

A plush cow with crinkly ears. He had to hope that this could maybe jog memories of Batcow and, in turn, everything else. Tim had tried to think of something a little more relevant but all he could think of were things related to Batman, to Superboy, to the League of Assassins (did their lives really revolve around vigilante-work that much?)... and, unfortunately, this reality didn’t have merch that he could give the kid.

And a squishy plastic baguette. Because that was all he could think of to get back at Marinette for the duck thing.

When it came to little kid books he hesitated for just a bit before getting the basics -- stuff like animals and the letters and Spot The Dog. He wondered, vaguely, if he’d have to teach the kid numbers since they already used the Arabic numeral system. He got a book on it just in case.

Then he got a couple of books on parenting.

He checked out and then walked back to the sitting area where he was supposed to meet Marinette.

… she was taking forever.

He sighed quietly and skimmed through a book on parenting.

… oops they were supposed to breastfeed until Damian was about two. No clue what to do about that. Maybe the kid was already used to a bottle? He hoped so. He’d watch him more carefully while Marinette was holding him to see. In the meantime, he’d get a bottle and some formula on top of the baby food they’d been getting so far.

Alright so the kid was supposed to learn behaviors and language through observation. Good. That, hopefully, solved that problem. Tim probably would have just given the kid a textbook and said ‘good luck’. Marinette… he didn’t really know what Marinette would have done, but the woman wasn’t a teacher as far as he could tell and asking her to teach the kid properly was a little unfair.

Babies around his age are supposed to speak in something called… protowords? Like… a baby language? Damn, he has a miraculous and it seemingly allows him the power to understand every language but apparently ‘baby-speak’ didn’t count as a language. Tim called bullshit.

He felt a weight settle down on the bench next to him and absently glanced over.

Marinette sent him a slightly tired smile. She was wearing a new, dark red scarf.

He opened his mouth to say something only to have her shake her head and adjust her scarf a little to show him something.

Ah. It looked like Damian had fallen asleep on her shoulder so she’d fashioned the scarf into a makeshift baby sling.

“Could’ve used the stroller,” he whispered, setting his receipt in the book to mark his page.

She snorted. “And risk waking him? He cries every time he wakes up, I’m not dealing with that right now.”

He bit his lip. “You know… this book says he’s supposed to cry for, like, an hour to an hour and a half a day.”

She tipped her head to the side a little. “He’s cried like… three times.”

“Yeah, and he was really easy to shut up. Decidedly not normal.”

They looked back down at Damian, identical frowns on their faces.

“Does it have an explanation for why he’d be like this?” Marinette asked, her voice soft.

Tim hesitated.

“The only reasons I can think of are that he doesn’t think we’d help him if he cried or he thinks crying is something he’d be punished for. Considering how he was raised… it could be either. Or both.”

Marinette yawned as she sat back on the hotel bed. She leaned back against Tim, leaving him to bear the weight of both her and Damian.

He, to his credit, barely even blinked. He turned slowly until they were both leaning back against each other.

She tipped her head back to rest on his shoulder.

She could fall asleep like this, she thought. Propped against Tim. Damian, in her arms, watching an episode of something called True and the Rainbow Kingdom… it was nice.

Or, at least, it would be if Tim could stop that infernal tapping.

“Ugh, could you stop that? Some people actually sleep.”

He gave a tiny puff of laughter that acknowledged that he heard her but, alas, he continued typing.

She groaned a little and reached a hand behind herself to give him a tiny bap to his side.

“Hm. This may shock you, but hitting me really hasn’t helped your case.”

She huffed and twisted around to try and see over his shoulder. She’d given up on sleeping, anyway.

“What are you even doing?”

He shrugged just slightly. “Trying to figure out what to do about money.”

She nodded slowly, looking over his shoulder as he scrolled through jobs they could do with zero experience or degrees. That could sustain a family of three and pay for the daycare they would have to take Damian to. The options... weren’t great.

Damian tugged on her shirt for her attention and she looked down as he pointed at his screen with a bright smile. There was a black cat on the screen. She didn’t really know what he wanted until he kept saying ‘ma’ over and over. She nodded and said ‘cat’ in both Arabic and English, which seemed to sate him as he went back to watching… the giant green yeti monster stealing a basket of candy? What the fuck was even going on on this show? Were kids’ shows like this in her own world, too? Or was this one’s shows just especially weird?

A thought occurred to her and she looked back over at Tim.

“You exist in this world, right?”

He nodded absently and opened a tab that, despite its claim that it was an entry level job, apparently required two years of experience and a degree. He closed it quickly.

“Why don't we just mooch off of the other you?”

Tim sighed. “Because that’s illegal?”

“You’re a vigilante. I don’t think that ‘borrowing’ money from your alternate self is where you should draw the line on illegal activities.”

“I draw the line when it harms innocent people.”

She laughed at that. “He’s rich. It’s not like he’s going to miss it. Think of it as… giving the money to people who need it.”

“You’re a regular robin hood,” Tim said sarcastically.

“I know. I’m so kind,” she agreed, grinning.

There were a few moments of silence.

Then, finally, he shook his head. “Even if we could somehow do that -- which I can’t guarantee because I’m not completely sure I could guess my passwords -- the fact that we’re in Texas… he’d notice.”

She shrugged. “Then let’s move back to Gotham.”

He blinked and finally looked up from the computer. “What?”

“We don’t have much of a life here, really, so why not move?”

He considered this for a while before sighing and flopping back on the bed. “Let me see if I can even get into the account. There’s nothing to say that I even have the same social security number here...”

She nodded her understanding and laid back next to him. Damian whined a little at the sudden displacement but just ran a hand up and down his back absently until he was watching his show again, completely silent as he stared at the screen. Now the main girl was reaching into her bag for a weird orb of light that was, apparently, sentient. Was this the Dora of their world? God help their children.

Speaking of helping their children...

She picked up a parenting book to read while Tim tried to guess his otherworldly counterpart’s passwords.

Tim managed to get in.

He rested his head in his hands, cursing quietly.

She glanced over and smiled at his slightly flushed face.

“What was the password?”

He grumbled under his breath.

This only seemed to encourage her more because she started nudging his shoulder, the soft smile morphing into a cheeky grin.

He sighed and took a moment to gather himself before looking over at her. “It’s… ‘<3Richard<3graysons<3little<3brother<3’.”

“... I don’t get it.”

“Good. So you can’t tease me about it,” he said, sticking his tongue out at her.

She scoffed. “That’s not fair.”

“Totally is.”

He set the computer down beside himself and stretched his achy old bones. He’d had a baby for approximately two days now and he could already feel the bad back setting in. Tomorrow he would have gray hair.

“I’m going to look it up if you don’t tell me.”

“... he’s a celebrity,” Tim said quietly.

Her grin wavered back towards that genuine smile for just a second before spreading into an even wider grin. She reached out and pinched his cheeks. “Awwww, Tim, that’s so cute --!”

“Shut up,” he complained, batting her hands away.

She snickered. “No. I’m going to write that password on your tombstone.”

“You’re assuming I’m going to die first.”

“I have an extended lifespan. You’re only going to have that for another fifteen years. After that? Unless I’m really stupid you’re gonna die first.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to find out how to be immortal now. Purely to spite you.”

She snorted. “Okay. Good luck with that.”

“Thank you.”

With that, he pushed himself up with a groan. “I’m going to get him ready for bed.”

She nodded her understanding and continued with her reading.

Damian whined a little when Tim tried to take him away from where he had curled up next to Marinette but that seemed to be more because he was tired and cranky than genuine distress.

Tim was the one to bathe him. It wasn’t a bubble bath, he wasn’t eager to repeat the previous night’s mistakes, but he did give Damian the rubber duck. This seemed to work for all of them, since Damian now allowed them to take him out of the bath as long as he got to bring his duck.

Marinette grinned when she looked over at where Damian was chewing on his rubber duck as Tim struggled to click the annoyingly difficult buttons of the onesie into place.

“Told you he would love it.”

“We both know that wasn’t why you wanted to get it.”

“And we both know you didn’t get that squishy bread-thing just because you thought he would like it, either.”

He smiled. “Maaaaaybe.”

The onesie finally allowed itself to be buttoned and Tim picked Damian up so he could get into bed.

Marinette frowned. “This book says we shouldn’t let him sleep with us every night. Says it creates a bad habit that’s hard to break.”

Tim raised an eyebrow at her but, reluctantly, carried the kid over to the crib so they could sleep separately.

“Fine. But I’m going to sleep before him so I don’t stress out all night.”

She snickered. “Fine. Fine.”

He climbed into bed, set a pillow between them, and promptly dozed off before he could get woken up by Damian whimpering through the night.

… Tim woke up a few hours later -- his body wasn’t quite used to sleeping through nights just yet -- to find that Marinette had brought the kid into bed with them again.

He smiled a little and moved the pillow out from between them. Even if Damian was currently too trapped in Marinette’s arms to even reach it, it was best to make sure it couldn’t happen.

Damian whimpered a little in his sleep again and Tim tipped his head to the side. He reached over and gently combed his fingers through the fuzzy little tufts of hair that the kid had so far. Damian relaxed.

Tim sighed and shifted in the bed until he was closer to Damian, then maneuvered through Marinette’s mess of limbs to press a tiny kiss to the top of his head. The baby smiled in his sleep and, though the kid couldn’t see it, he returned the smile. He rested an arm around the kid as well in hopes that it would keep the kid feeling safe before allowing himself to drift off.

~~~~~

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

#into the unknown #maribat #tim drake #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #timari #timmari #shutterbug #timinette

88 notes · View notes

andromedagarcia · 2 years ago

Text

What games will Cass and Hérc be playing tonight?

The question popped in Andro's head and felt like a finger stabbing right at her temples, time and time again, not leaving her alone. Manageable at first, fucking annoying by the hundredth time. She didn't want to think. She wanted to do whatever it was she had to do to get back to her siblings. To survive one more day.

She had to hope their game would be easy. She had to hope they would beat it. She had to hope she, herself, would. That was a whole lot of hoping, but did she have a choice? No, she didn't. No one did in this place. They just had to keep going.

Andro could already hear the whimpering from people in distress all around her, saying their goodbyes to their loved ones, showering them with the sweetest words just in case they wouldn't return. An all too familiar sound, by now.

She wished it wasn't.

She squinted up at the sky. She couldn't see them properly, due to the fact that she was near-sighted and was lacking her prescription glasses, but she knew the constellations of Hércules and Cassiopeia were there, somewhere. She whispered a little prayer, low, so that nobody could hear her. She was not particularly religious, in fact, she was not even a believer, but if there was a higher power, a deity, out there, they wouldn't care about that, right? They'd protect anyone, anybody that needed it. They'd look after her, and her siblings.

She was finishing her little mantra, when she heard Chishiya's voice for the first time.

'Lucky number 9, hm?'

She lowered her gaze, her dark eyes finding the man's. She noticed her arms were still crossed, her once perfect nails digging into the skin of her arms, leaving angry pink patches behind. She was glad it was probably too dark to notice.

'Isn't 7 the lucky number? You know, it is said that the seventh son of the seventh son will inherit magical powers, that the world was created in six days and God used the seventh to rest...' She kept going, citing the reasons, all the while studying the person in front of her. Blonde hair, long-ish, haunting eyes. Sporting a white hoodie. Shorter than her, but still demanding attention, the air around him twisting, almost as if it bent at his will. 'But I guess they do say a cat has nine lives... although, in my home country, a cat only has seven. Which, again, proves my point.'

A crooked grin directed towards him, a raised eyebrow, her whole expression lopsided. Her posture relaxed, and she extended her hand towards her companion.

'Name's Andrómeda. But, please, call me Andro. I don't really like my full name.' She didn't wait for him to reply, before adding her next words. 'We should become acquaintances if we are going to play this game together.'

That was her plan, especially if they were playing Clubs. Introduce herself, get everybody to know each other, to feel something else than apathy towards one another. Because then, they would actually put some effort into not letting their teammates die. And, for sure, wouldn't dare sacrifice anyone. It was harder to harm those you knew something about.

So she put her tactic into practice:

'You've probably seen me around. Me, and my two siblings. We draw attention because, well...' She pointed with an index finger at her face, at her features. They were foreigners. Even if they had been in Japan since they were babies.

'What about you, where are you from?'

Questions, to make him talk about himself. Because she was actually curious or to make herself care?

She didn't know.

Did it even matter?

@cheshire-shuntaro

'You'll see, I'm lucky.'

Andrómeda resisted the temptation to roll her eyes, something that was becoming harder and harder with each and every time those words left Hércules' mouth. Cass had given in, after the third one, and now was pretty much groaning the moment she heard the L word. As if luck existed in such a place.

'Hércules, it doesn't work that way. It's about probability and...'

'It's about luck.'

Cass murmured something in Spanish, under her breath. Andro couldn't heard, but she could imagine what it was.

If we had any luck, the raven-haired woman thought to herself while looking at her siblings, then we wouldn't be here. And we would have lived a much different life.

They deserved better. Better parents, a better older sister. Hércules, with his head of curls, with his million rings, with his odd taste in clothing and people. Cass with those blonde locks, hands stained with paint, apparently hermetic but still willing to let just about anyone in as long as she got an ounce of kindness and love in return.

It would be good if things had gone any other way.

But they hadn't.

So Andrómeda put away the longing she was suddenly feeling, swallowed hard to avoid choking on the pain of it, and curved her lips in her trademarked crooked grin when one of Hatter's men gave her the paper with the number indicating the game she had to play that night, setting her jaw and tilting her chin upwards. She was young, and strong, and willing to withstand anything that came her way.

She saw the nine as soon as she unfolded the paper. Cass had a two, and Hércules had a five.

'Luck, huh?' Cass snorted, and Andro could see how her shoulders sagged, the look of defeat on her little sister's face, quickly replaced by determination. Whether it was real, or just a mask so that Andro wouldn't worry, she'd never know.

'It's going to go well. We've done this before.' Hércules reassured them both, although by the look on his face, he looked like he needed those words the most.

They hugged and kissed. No tears. No tragic faces. Just a see you in a bit whispered with their arms around each other.

Andrómeda made her way to the car that would take them to the game arena, leaning on the vehicle once she reached it, arms crossed above her chest, waiting for tonight's teammates.

Number nine. Completion, but not a final ending. The end of a chapter, but the beginning of another.

@cheshire-shuntaro

#cheshire-shuntaro #aib oc #aib roleplay

10 notes · View notes

bluefirewrites · 4 years ago

Text

While You Sleep

One shot based off a Juke headcanon I had about protective Luke. This is for this momentous March 4th JATP trending day. Here’s to clowning with you!

___________

She noticed him there one night. An almost indistinguishable blob huddled out her window, dark clothes blending in with the shingles, the trees- the night.

It was too late for either of them to be up.

Yes, Julie was aware that ghosts had no need to sleep. No bodies meant no circadian rhythm.

But he wasn’t supposed to be there.

Rubbing her eyes and groping her desk for her glasses, Julie tiptoed across the room, mindful not to make too much noise. It was past midnight after all.

She cracked open her window, the slight breeze playing with her hair as she stuck her head out.

“Luke?” she called, startling the ghost.

“Julie!” He all but yelped. Normally cool and confident, Luke Patterson scrambled, limbs moving wildly, “Uh, hey. What are you- What are you doing up?” he coughed then shot her a smile.

Would have been that perfect smile Julie had raved about to Flynn if it hadn’t come off as hesitant, as a ruse. It didn’t push against his cheeks like they were supposed to. If he hadn’t been a ghost, she would have chalked it up to fatigue.

She nodded her head at the door, “I had to go to the bathroom.”

A yawn snuck out her mouth. Luke’s eyes softened at the sound.

“You should go back to sleep,”

Julie looked him over again, noting his attire. A beanie, his torn up jeans, and… that flannel. The brown one.

She shimmied out and carefully sat next to him on the roof, knees pulled up like his was, “Luke, is something wrong?”

“No. Just get back inside,” he urged, shooing her away. And when she didn’t budge, his tone grew a tad bit more authoritative, “Julie, I mean it. Go to bed.”

“I’ll go when you tell me why you’re out here,” She may be tired, but two could play this stubborn game. And as if she was going to bed without figuring out what’s bothering Luke.

His shoulders rose and sunk, “To think. For some privacy,”

It came out as more of a question, as if he wasn’t entirely committed to that story. At Julie’s judgemental silence, he continued spinning.

“Not sure if you know this, but Alex and Reggie?” he leaned in, hands cupping his mouth, “They can be a bit much.” he stage-whispered teasingly.

She raised an eyebrow, “Alex and Reggie?”

“They’re, like, so,so loud. Real annoying. Very hyper,” he said, “Like I tell them ‘Boys, keep it down’, ya know?”

“Uh-huh,”

She wondered if he legitimately thought this was working on her. And Julie thought she was terrible when put on the spot.

“You have the power to poof literally anywhere and everywhere, yet you choose my roof?”

Seriously, out of all the places to get privacy, Luke thought being a couple feet away from her window was enough seclusion.

Again, he shrugged, emoting a ‘don’t know what to tell ya’, which only irritated Julie even more.

She scooted over, getting into his space, but the ghost wasn’t allowing it, bringing up his arms to keep her at bay, and maybe to move her in the direction of the window.

“Luke, enough with the games just tell me what’s going on-” she reached for him and ended up grazing his ever-jerking shoulder. Her hand landed on something behind him.

It wasn’t a shingle or a leaf. Whatever it was, her finding it made Luke’s eyes widen and had him stuttering out pleas to leave it alone.

With cat-like reflexes she wasn’t aware she had at this hour, Julie grabbed it before he could swipe it away.

Under the moonlight, she inspected the item in her hands, confused.

“Salt?” It was the same can of salt that Carlos had tried to use on the boys, supposedly trying to ‘burn their souls out’, “Why do you have this?”

Luke chuckled nervously, “Oh that? Well that’s just… that’s because...” he faltered, “Because…”

He sighed dejectedly.

“Uh, you mind waiting a couple minutes? While I come up with an excuse?” he tried, his usual charm doing nothing for Julie at the moment.

She stared at him, hard and unwavering. “I don’t like it when you lie to me, Luke.”

The ghost deflated. His features tightened, almost pained.

“I never want- argh-” he growled, pounding at the surface before cradling his head, frustrated, “Look, I never wanted to lie to you.”

“Then why do you do it?” her voice warbled as she pressed. He still did this? After all they had been through together? It hurt her to think about, somewhat insulting.

But of course there must be a reason. A good one because whatever he was hiding, it was clearly weighing heavy on him. Much like when he had visited his parents. And when he was suffering from the stamps…

“Something happened,” she surmised.

Luke didn’t want to admit it, she sensed that. But she could sense his resolve breaking, the more she looked at him, looked into his stormy hazel eyes.

Julie inched near him and the moment her hand came up to rest on his shoulder, his whole body shuddered, his breathing becoming less controlled- God, he was falling apart, as if he had spent so long bottled up, the pressure only escaping out now.

He kept shaking his head, refusing to let it happen, but Julie’s hand moved to his other shoulder, pulling herself towards him, her left side locking into his right. He practically melted, and with unplanned synchronicity, their heads rested against each others’.

They sat there, the quietest they had ever been with each other, but the moment screaming something that Julie had yet to decipher.

She thought she could speak ‘Luke’ by now. No two people could engage in something as personal as songwriting without picking up a thing or two on how the other person thinks, feels...

A sort of jitteriness existed in him and all Julie knew was that she just needed to quell it, to calm him down. Her fingers traced patterns into his shoulder, dancing en pointe to the rhythm of her breathing, and soon Luke’s. Slow and steady.

“The night of the Orpheum,” he finally said, “after you left. We were gonna meet you there, I swear we were. But then…”

“Caleb?” she dared to speak his name out loud.

With the way Luke’s form tensed under her arm, she regretted it.

He swallowed hard, withdrawing his head from its comfortable position against hers so he could look at her properly.

“He was here, Julie,” he gritted out.

Her stomach dropped.

Caleb had been here. At her house.

Logically, it was to be expected. He was a ghost, like the boys, able to go anywhere and everywhere. It made sense to come here to get them.

But the fact that he could…The fact that he had...

This man, who could so easily inflict pain, who had no qualms in threatening non-existence to three teenage boys, all because they wouldn’t do what he wanted, had been in her home.

The thought rattled her, and she was almost close to losing her regular breathing pattern. Sensing this, Luke’s hand shot out and coated hers, quick to soothe with guilty fingers.

None of them ever told her this. Of how they ended up at the club before the Orpheum. They must have wanted to shield her from the distress, taking it upon themselves the burden of worrying. Worrying when he would come back. If he ever came back.

“Look, Caleb’s this all powerful ghost. The things he’s capable of,” he shut his eyes, breathing deeply, “I don’t like knowing that he knows where you-”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish, voice cracking. Instead, his hand reached for the can of salt, stealing it back.

Julie noticed it. In the way he held the can, that he didn’t need to open his eyes to grab it; it was instinct. If his palm had been large enough, he could encapsulate the whole thing. He couldn’t be gripping it any tighter.

“But Luke…” she tried to remind him gently.

“I know this doesn’t do anything. Doesn’t burn souls or whatever,” he slammed it down on the roof, “But it’s better than nothing.”

Julie bit her lip, not wanting to ask, dreading the answer.

“Have you been up here? Every night since?”

Luke hesitated.

Oh.

“I don’t spy on you or anything. I’m not a creep or-” he tried, “I just wanna make sure. Make sure you’re alright.”

Julie was at a loss for words.

She didn’t know what to feel. The gesture would have warmed her heart if the visual that presented itself wasn’t so utterly devastating.

The Orpheum performance had been months ago.

That meant many nights of Luke keeping vigil on her roof, outside her room, clutching onto that can of salt like a lifeline, always on edge. Never sleeping, just… sitting there in silence. Anticipating for some attack.

That could drive any person mad.

He didn’t tell the boys either. She knew that. Otherwise they would be up here with him, all armed with their own cans of salt.

Luke bore the burden of worrying.

And he did it alone.

Julie cursed herself for not picking up on it sooner, but there was never any residue of the anxious nights. The electric smile at its full wattage always greeted her when she woke up and visited the studio first thing before leaving for school.

But she should have noticed. Noticed in the way Luke’s gaze seemed to linger on her for a beat too long when he thought she wasn’t looking. In the way he embraced her, squeezing her tight, reluctant to let her go even so she could go to school.

She had always thought it was him relishing in the ability to touch her, never taking it for granted after months of never thinking such a thing was possible.

Finding out why- it hurt. It hurt knowing how much Luke was hurting and he didn’t let it slip once.

All to protect her.

“You don’t have to keep watch, Luke...” she didn’t want to put him through that anymore. Her peace of mind should never be at the expense of Luke’s. She refused.

He shook his head, “No, I do. Because if anything happened to you, I wouldn’t- I couldn’t-”

“Hey. I should be the one who’s worried. You guys almost…” she stopped, not wanting to dwell...

“Look. you’re who he wants. Not me. I should be the one to be,” she eyed the can of salt “to be standing guard outside the studio, protecting you.”

“We’d never want for you to put yourself in danger. Not for us. No way,”

“Well that’s tough because there’s no way I’m gonna let him take you away from me again,” she cried, desperate.

That gave Luke pause and she realized her mistake.

She had meant to say ‘you guys’.

But also at the same time, she didn’t.

The moment of vulnerability made her want to run and hide, but it was already too late. The damage was done. Luke blinked at her, stunned and sad.

His hand on top of hers shifted, curling around until he was holding it, thumb grazing her knuckles, “I’m not going anywhere, Julie,” he promised, “We’re not.” he corrected for her.

“Well, neither am I,”

It should feel like a lie. What both of them said.

Nothing about their situation was fixed. A promise from a ghost to Lifer and vice versa shouldn’t mean anything. Not when he could leave, cross over to the great light at any time. Not when she could grow old and leave him behind along with the memories of her teen years.

Their interesting little relationship was already doomed. No Caleb required.

But she meant it. And that felt like enough.

Luke meant it. And it was.

She wished she could enjoy this.

Another agonizing silence flowed between them, and soon Luke’s hand left, the echo of his touch chilled by the night. She pocketed both of her hands in her sweatpants.

“How did you break free?” she asked, “You were at the club, right? How were you able to get out?”

Luke smiled, “You called. And we came. Duh.”

She sang. Somehow her singing had summoned them, had brought her boys back to her. It had always been that way sorta. There was this feeling she had ever since she played their demo, that there was something tethering them together.

They always knew where to find her. And when.

At first, it annoyed her. Like, who wanted three new responsibilities?

But now it gave her comfort.

She needed to voice this to Luke.

“You can’t be sitting here every night. It doesn’t help anyone for you to be on edge all the time,”

He opened his mouth to interject, but she kept going.

“I know. I know you can’t just turn off all your worrying. It’s scary not knowing what’s gonna happen,” She sneaked one last squeeze to his hand, “But If anything does happen, you’ll know. And you’ll be here” she snapped her fingers, “just like that.”

“But-”

“For me. Please,” she had to say, desperate.

And she watched as any further arguments died on his lips. She was lucky that it took this time.

She brushed away his bangs before cupping his face. His eyes fluttered closed at the contact. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”

That seemed to seal the deal.

“Ok. For you,” he nodded. Then he carefully guided her hand off and he cocked his head towards the open window, “You seriously need to sleep though.”

It was her turn to nod, “I will.”

And with that, they both stood, with Luke guiding her back inside, ensuring she didn’t slip and fall off the roof. Once safe and away from the cold, she hung back, elbows perched on the window sill. Luke did the same from the outside.

“Goodnight, Julie,” he whispered.

She smiled, a first for tonight.

“Goodnight, Luke,”

The ghost returned it, and it reached his eyes this time. He moved to leave but he froze. Pulling out the can, he opened the spout and began lining the entirety of window sill with a small stream of salt.

“Here,” he remarked upon finishing, “Just in case.”

Julie didn’t have the heart to correct him. Him standing guard may be for her benefit, but the can of salt was definitely for his.

“Thanks,” she said instead, brushing stray particles to fill any gaps in her protective barrier.

She watched him poof away before closing the window and crawling into bed and succumbing to sleep.

********

Julie hadn’t seen Luke on her roof since.

It had been weeks and there was a definite improvement in the way Luke carried himself from then on out. It was miniscule, of course, but Julie could see it in his eyes that he had been receiving the equivalent of a well-needed slumber.

That didn’t stop him from keeping an eye on her from time to time. Though it never reached ‘stationing on the roof’ status. The boy had found a loophole and she found herself anticipating surprise visits by her locker.

She never did say anything about school.

And everything was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

Julie wasn’t sure why it took so long for the fear that Caleb’s visit had instilled to rear its ugly head.

But it did.

And in the form of nightmares no less.

It was the night of the Oprheum all over again, except when she launched herself at Luke, she merely passed through. No magical hug to save them, she was forced to watch as those jolts, those painful jolts, slowly killed them.

She remembered screaming and crying, the looks on the boys' faces when their light had been snuffed out, when they were nothing more than shimmering particles that faded away into nothing, it was something she never ever wanted to see again.

Her body jerked awake, her body sweating and she was startled to find the screams and cries had followed her- her face damp and her throat coarse. Bringing her knees to her chin, the horror of what she had witnessed was still fresh in her mind, and she was sobbing.

In the midst of all this, she barely registered the tugging feeling, somewhere deep inside her, somewhere she couldn’t really place.

Then suddenly, a telltale sound of a ghost poofing in diminished her cries.

“Julie. Julie!” she heard Luke, frantic. His form, blurred by her tears, moved about the room until he was sitting at the foot of her bed. “A-Are you okay? I felt it, I felt you calling-”

She wiped her face with her sweater sleeve, readjusting to reality, “I’m- I’m fine. It’s just-” she sniffled, “I had a nightmare.”

Once Luke’s face came in view, the nightmare image of his disappearing out of existence overwhelmed her again and some wayward tears flowed against her better judgement.

“Hey,” he moved and was at her side immediately, drawing her to him, “Sh. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

She buried her face into his chest just to make sure. Because forget her. He was okay. Caleb didn’t take him away from her. He was still here.

The tears she was shedding were ones of pure relief.

It had been awful. For a second, she was powerless. She had felt that way when she lost her mom, her sickness taking hold. She couldn’t stop it from taking her mom, and that left her feeling so hollow.

Julie wouldn’t know what to do if it happened again. If it happened to her boys.

She didn’t know how long Luke held her, wiping her cheeks dry with his thumbs and keeping her hair from clinging to her forehead. But somehow during all this, they both had reclined on her bed, the worst of it having passed.

Even when she had stopped crying, his arms still encased her.

“What can I do?” he asked, unsure, “Tell me. What can I do?”

“Just…” her fists curled around his shirt, her breathing steadying and eyes pleading, “Can you stay here? With me?”

He nodded,resolute, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Julie sighed and she was struck with that promise they made weeks ago. And she allowed herself to relax into him.

It should scare her. How much she trusted him. To be there. There weren't any guarantees in life. Not for her. Especially not for him.

But she called.

And he came.

A constant.

And as much as she didn’t want him to worry about her, she knew that she wouldn’t easily be able to not worry about him.

And encased in arms that would phase through others, and even with the threat of Caleb still hanging over their heads, Julie never felt more safe.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. Not in this house. Not in this time of 2020.

But he was.

And she slept peacefully from then on.

tagging @blush-and-books and @lydias--stiles (I will sleep now)

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke #juke fic #drabble #NetflixWeWantJATP2 #julie x luke #luke x julie #palina #juke-box #julie molina #luke patterson #let's say possessed nick isn't revealed yet #angsty #hurt and comfort

162 notes · View notes

thatonehighschoolreject · 9 months ago

Text

The Merc's Final Kill

Where V chose the easy way out. Saying goodbyes on a rooftop. She was hoping to make amends with Johnny and herself. Thanking each other for their time together.

wordcount 6k canon compliant spoiler warning V's third POV TW for suicide

Relic Malfunction Detected

V stepped into the elevator and raised an unsteady hand to press the down button on the touch screen. She coughed hard as the doors slid shut. And then she fell to the ground, barely able to save herself from a broken nose by catching the ground with her elbows.

"I warned you," Johnny groaned from behind him, pissed beyond belief. He approached V. Then suddenly a chrome hand pushed the stop button.

The lift came to a sudden stop, unsettling the bile in V's stomach. She kept it down nonetheless, surprisingly. "What're you doing?" V was baffled. How the hell did Johnny press the button anyway? He was in the cockpit- not piloting. She frowned and lifted her head to see Johnny standing by the doors now.

The engram scoffed, "What am I doing? I'm showing you what it's like to feel fucking trapped." He paced as V flipped over and backed into the corner of the elevator. Right now, she was wishing she was in any life but the one she currently lived. "Asked you. Warned you. But you've insisted on not giving a shit." He was using a tone that one would use when explaining something complicated to a toddler, like he believed the mercenary wouldn't understand him no matter how simply he worded it. "Now this porcelain cunt is gonna use you in her fancy scheme." He looked down at the dying woman like a cat would a wounded mouse - with disgust and primal disrespect.

V didn't stand for disrespect.

She fought off the lightness in her limbs and the spinning in her head. She tried to pull herself to her feet and sputtered the words : "Fuck off." V didn't see that she had much choice in the matter. And who was Johnny to say what she could and couldn't do? It was her body not his. "I haven't agreed to anything yet." She was only half standing now, the rest of her body weight she was forcing the wall behind her to hold. She was gripping the railing, holding on for dear life so she wouldn't fall.

V weighed her options, considering the latter. "Well, we could ask the Aldecaldos to lend a hand." Her mind wandered to Panam. And she briefly wondered if she would be able to say goodbye. If she'd even have the guts. God, Panam was like the little sister she never wanted. But she loved that girl to death. Well, death doesn't hold much value nowadays. Especially considering she'd be lucky if she had a month to live. Definitely not enough time to tie up any loose ends.

Johnny rolled his eyes as if V had suggested she ask the Tyger Claws for help instead. "Listen up, V. Those guys are trailer tuggers!" He stood back up straight and continued to pace, this time even faster than before. He seemed very distressed. "An assault on Arasaka's just not another convoy to jack. You already tried this with amateurs." He tilted his head as he looked over to her. "We both know how that ended."

"And you tried it with pros. It didn't end any fucking better." V's voice sounded weaker this time. Like she was grasping at straws to stay conscious. Her bones felt so sore and weak. Her head felt like it was going to explode. And it seemed like Johnny didn't even care one bit. She managed to stand all the way upright before a wave of pain struck her body once more. And she had never felt pain like this before. Like she was being crushed between two semis both going 200mph.

Relic Malfunction Detected

"Johnny…" That was all she could get out in a broken breath. Then V came crashing down to the floor again, landing on her side. If she made it through this, she would definitely be bruised from shoulder to knee. And she had sworn that she heard something crack. Was that her wrist?

"Great! You checking out again?!" Johnny moved to get down by V. Hoping that maybe if he got closer maybe V wouldn't lose consciousness- or her life. Well, both their lives. He was hoping that he could save her. Just like he had so many times before.

Just before he could reach a knee to the paneled flooring everything went black.

It was so dark. So damned dark.

V had never seen such darkness. Her eyes were open- at least she thought they were- and she still couldn't see a thing. Couldn't feel anything either. Fuck. Had the biochip really taken V clean out of the land of the living?

If she had flatlined, then that would mean Silverhand's name was the last thing to leave her lips. God, that would be a damned pathetic last line. Definitely not one to go down in a documentary.

The darkness seemed to swallow her whole.

"Wha… Am I…?" V muttered her thoughts, begging to get an answer on if she were actually dead or not.

"Not yet," Johnny said confidently from the confines of her mind.

The black faded to a white. V opened her eyes and was met with a blinding light. She winced at the throbbing stabbing at her body.

"Easy there. Don't move just yet." She had heard Viktor's voice before she had seen his face.

"Vik?" She let out breathlessly.

V was overwhelmed by the pain. Her words were barely more than a whisper. "My head…" She groaned as another spike of soreness washed through her. "Feels like…"

"Like someone's using your head as a knife block?" Viktor finished for her. Well, it wasn't an inaccurate way to describe it. A good way to put it even, it did feel like that.

V didn't even remember walking into the doc's clinic. All she remembered was that damned elevator. And what it felt like to be inches within death. "How… How'd I get here?"

"Dragged yourself here beat to hell and back. Gave Misty a hell of a fright. Then, you shoved my patient at the time off the table. And demanded you be treated immediately." Viktor stared her down, as if hoping retelling the ordeal would help rejog V's memory or at least strike her with an ounce of shame.

"Tell him it was your guardian angel," Johnny whispered aloud. It was then V realized she had the engram to thank for her to be still kicking. He had seemed so mad before, V never would've guessed he'd want to save her after their last conversation.

"Huh?" The doc replied as if he had heard him. But that was impossible. V's eyes wandered to find the ghost leaning with his arms crossed, just a few meters away from the table she found herself crumpled on.

"I, uh… wasn't completely myself." V struggled to explain her actions. If she admitted that Johnny had taken over so easily the doc might've underestimated V's sense of control in her own body.

Viktor looked to her, a look in his eyes glinting an unreadable emotion. "I know. It's a bit worrying."

The mercenary struggled to show a small smile as she offered a light comment. "I'll order a weaker poison next time." He would almost laugh if he didn't know it would hurt.

Viktor had hardness in his stare and his voice somehow got even more stern. "This ain't no joke, kid." He briefly glanced away to follow V's eyes then turned back to face her once he found nothing. "As I see it, there won't be a next time."

His words really hit where it hurt. Metaphorically, because literally everywhere was hurting. Even parts of her she didn't know could hurt. Was this really the end of the line for her? For Johnny's second go around as well? Maybe Johnny didn't care about V's life. Why would he care about anyone but himself? He had hated the girl since the day they met so why would he feel any different now?

It really struck her. She didn't have much longer did she? A couple days? Maybe less?

In not much time she'd feel just as lost as the ghost that haunted her mind. She would have just as many things she'd wished she coulda done. Just as many regrets and grudges, too. Just as many guilty deaths weighing on her conscious moments before her own end came to meet her.

V had once doubted that the biochip would be the death of her. A month ago, she begged Viktor to say it was just some crude joke. Now, it seemed that Viktor was right. But at least Johnny had attempted to save her and prolong her inevitable demise. But what would that matter now?

"Okay." V huffed, "Don't expect a miracle." She braced herself on the table with her hands against the arm rests. As she straightened out her legs, she whimpered in pain. Her joints were flooded with uncomfortable static. The mercenary slammed her eyes shut, face contorted in discomfort. Her sharp inhales struggled in assisting her to not scream.

"I said slowly-" Viktor repeated, eyeing her with worry.

V groaned as she straightened her back out, speaking through grit teeth. "Another victory for the history books."

"Hmm." The ripperdoc hummed, crossing his arms. He clearly wanted to say something but he was holding back.

"Well, looks like I can sit up alright." V trailed off, prying at him, "But I can tell you don't have good news." She feared the next words that would come out of the other's mouth. What could be more important than what she was going through right now? Nothing better than this shit, that's for sure.

"How much longer is this going to go on?"

She averted his eyes from Viktor's troubling gaze. "You tell me."

This was the most serious V had ever seen him. "Looking at you, not long at all." Viktor shook his head, seemingly overwhelmed by guilt. He felt to blame for the woman's state, even though he had nothing to do with it. "Next attack, you won't be able to crawl back here. You'll flatline in some back alley. This is your last chance to take matters into your own hands. Understand?"

"Take matters into my own hands? The fuck you think I've been doing?" She narrowed her eyes in anger, pushing herself to sit up so she was finally upright.

"Yeah. What about it?"

"You'll find the last dose of pseudoendotrizine there. A gift from Misty. Want to give in to the voices in your head? Go ahead. Take a puff. Go silent. Get out." Viktor let out a long sigh that sounded as though he was holding it in for hours. His gaze was heavy on the dying woman. "Or, find another way. End things on your own terms. Got a little present from me over there too. Blockers. Managed to walk those few yards to the table. The rest will be up to you and you alone." He stepped away from V and walked to the other side of the room.

"On your own terms, huh?" Johnny pressed, now standing right in front of V. He glared in Viktor's direction then looked back to the mercenary. "Really subtle there, doc."

"Enough, Johnny. I just…" V looked down at her legs. "I gotta think about it." She got off the table and onto her own two feet.

"Need to stretch your noodle?" Johnny's voice echoed. "Fine, just not in this basement."

"V, christ. You're talking out loud." Viktor called out.

"Out loud? What?" V paused. That echo wasn't an echo after all. It was V speaking as Johnny. Fuck, she was really losing it after all, huh?

The ripperdoc huffed, "Just go fix this thing."

V stumbled a bit as she tried to take a step. She groaned. "I think I can do it."

Johnny walked beside her just as slowly. "Whatever you decide, let's make sure to get outta here first."

The mercenary nodded her head and went to the medical cart. She grabbed the pills and stuck them in her pants pocket. She ignored the growing lump in her throat as she grabbed the pistol and holstered it on her hip. She turned to walk towards the exit. Misty stood by the door. Fuck, she hadn't noticed she was there. Did she hear all of that?

"Hey, V, I heard…" She began to speak, "Well… your thoughts?"

V swallowed hard in reaction. "Shouldn't have had to. Sorry… bout that."

She considered it. "Sure. Got a feeling Vik's had enough of me, as is." She frowned, looking at him in her peripherals.

"Don't be mad at him," the psychic eased, "His chakras are all blocked up today. Plus he's had too much coffee."

V fought the urge to laugh. "Lemme guess. My aura's sputtering?"

Misty seemed to look at her as though she were the saddest thing imaginable. "Mhm, afraid so."

"Lead the way." V nodded her head towards the door. "Why's this spot so special?" She wanted to calm her mind. Hell, could barely think, let alone with both Viktor and Johnny's eyes staring her down.

And lead the psychic did. So V followed. "I took Jackie there once. It's not far." Misty made her way up a flight of stairs and the other struggled to keep up with her pace.

"Jackie? What's he gotta do with any of this?" She narrowed her eyes. She hadn't heard anyone say his name in a long time. It hit with whiplash only comparable to being in a high speed motorcycle wreck.

One could hear the smile in her voice. "You'll see. C'mon." Misty slowed her walking to match V's speed.

The walk was so ominous. What could possibly help her decide what she wants to do with her last days alive? Was it really that grand of a spot that Jackie would've fallen deeper into love with her? Misty walked through elevator doors and V followed. Not without being reminded of her last time in an elevator but at least someone would be here to help him if her brain and body were to shut down again. That and she was only a short walk away from Viktor's clinic.

"Top floor." The psychic nodded her head to the display. V pressed the roof button then looked back at her. Really, what could help at a time like this? "He had the same glum face."

"Who, Jack?" She narrowed his eyes in doubt.

" 'This is it, chica. I'm done for.' " She quoted, not seeming to be hit as hard when talking about him as V did.

V never thought of Jackie to ever be in a pessimistic state. Even in his last moments he still seemed to be planning what he would do next. "Doesn't sound like the Jackie I knew." She admitted.

Misty offered a soft smile. "That was a long time ago. His mom had just found out he signed up for the Valentinos." The elevator came to a stop and she led the way to another set of stairs. The dying girl followed blindly. "Trust me, Señora Welles on one shoulder, your gang choombas on the other, no choice can ever seem right."

V hummed in agreement though she had never been in that situation before. Not any like it really. She never had anyone looking out for her or trying to stop her from making any rough choices. Save for Johnny but he didn't really count. She just made a decision and if it came to bite her in the ass then oh, well, she'd deal with it then.

The getup was pretty mellow. There were a couple of plastic beach chairs placed near the edge of the roof with a small table placed between the two. It gave a perfect view, you could see every skyscraper in the entirety of Watson. There were bits of trash littered around but that was true for anywhere in Night City.

"Ah, that's more like it. Air." Johnny commented from V's right, not hesitating to take a joying lungful, as well.

The air felt like ice hitting the back of her throat. It helped ease the pain in her head, cleared the fog in there a bit, too. She didn't feel as sore anymore.

Misty continued, moving to sit in one of the chairs. "I come out here when I need a break. Be alone with my thoughts."

"She's onto something," the engram agreed, surprisingly. "Ought to sit. Mull through some shit yourself."

V made her way over to the edge, taking a seat in the other chair. "Thanks, Misty. You were right, choice spot." Her mind lingered before she was able to voice her thoughts. "So what… What did Jackie decide up here?"

"Oh, you know, 'Gonna be a legend in this city!' " She quoted him, even putting in that enthusiasm he had always seemed to have.

At that moment V was heavily reminded of her departed friend. His voice. All that he had left behind. All who he left behind. Misty, V, Momma Welles. Countless others for sure. She was grateful to have met Jackie but had wished she had known him a bit longer. Wished she could've spent more with him. And she was sure Misty felt the same way.

"I'm gonna leave you alone. Take your time." Misty sent a smile her way before getting up and leaving.

"No." V didn't let her eyes leave the rockerboy. "Still here."

The ghost grimaced. "For now. Y'know, you should call anyone you wanna say goodbye to."

"Worst case scenario. That what you expect?" Did he really have so little hope in her?

The chance to call Kerry and let him know he might not make it past the next night. To call anyone that had ever once mattered to him and say his final goodbyes.

And he can't undo that now. All he can do is attempt to stray the girl in a different direction than he had gone.

V considered it. Considered all the people she could call. Just to talk to one last time on the holo in case this was her last night alive. She couldn't call Panam. She didn't have the courage to. How would she explain this one away? 'Yeah, sorry, Panam, I don't have long to live. Don't cry about it for too long.'? Yeah, right.

And it would suck the life outta her to have to call Judy. Let alone Rogue. To have to tell her that she was about to lose Johnny for the second time and lose her as well. That would be too much pressure. She couldn't do that. She wondered, if she did drop dead, who would be the one to find her body? Who would be the one to spread the story? Who would be the one to tell the people she knew that she was no longer? Would she end up being a legend after she died just like Johnny had been? Unlikely. Yet, she held onto that thought.

But why was she thinking about all of this? Maybe there was a way to save herself. To keep from ending up six feet under. Even if there wasn't, it wouldn't do well to dwell on the after. Because she wouldn't be there to see it. So it shouldn't matter. Right? She wouldn't be the one to mourn for it. She wouldn't be the one to grieve her death. Still, it was a lot of pressure to put on those around her.

If she had much choice in the matter she'd choose to live longer instead of going out like a sick dog that others would just want to put down. To be put out of his misery and suffering. Hell, if it were that easy she'd choose life instead of death. And maybe, just maybe, she'd choose to let Johnny stick around. Because why should the guy have to go through death twice? Wasn't dying once enough for him? Once is enough for anyone, really.

"No. Not really my style, goodbyes." She came to the conclusion. One she would likely regret if she was alive long enough to. A hard choice. That's what this place was for, right? Choices.

Johnny frowned but didn't protest. "You do you. Come a long way to get here, haven't we?" 'We' that word stuck with V. To think of her and the ghost as a duo, as an 'us,' well, that made her feel less alone in the matter. Made her feel like maybe all this hard work and fighting her way through was actually worth it. "Just think. It all started in a fucking landfill."

V scoffed at the memory. Reminded of Takemura and being told she didn't have long to live. The beginning of this whole mess. "Then you tried to kill me." She wondered where he was going with this.

"Exactly what I mean. Here we are now, together. Soaking in this sweet vista of Night City. I only regret I won't get to see how it all ends." Johnny continued, moving to sit in the chair the psychic had been in prior. He had a point, though, the use of the word 'together' sat with her. Such a small word for such a big thing. Together meant that neither of them were alone. That brought comfort to the both of them.

"Gee thanks. Got that little faith in me?"

Without hesitation V spoke, "Gonna try to ask Panam for help."

"You absolutely sure?" He eyed V, not wanting to go through with either choice, really. "No going back on this, you know."

She paused to gather her thoughts before speaking them. "There is another option, though." V wondered if she would regret this one or not in another life. She took the pseudoendotrizine and omega blockers out of her pocket and stared down at them in her palm.

"What?"

"We put all this- the pills, everything to bed."

"If we don't try something, anything, we're both doomed." The rockerboy frowned, hoping the other truly knows the consequences of what he does next.

"I know." She gripped the pills tight and chucked them off the ledge. "Exactly why we'll do one last thing." V's heart was beating out of her chest.

"Okay… You lost me." Johnny swallowed, "Realize the shit we've been through to get this far, right?" It only took him one look at V to tell that she wasn't bluffing. That he was serious.

"Sure do."

"To let it all go now, why?" He asked such a simple question but V was grasping at air to find the words to say next. Why does anyone else commit suicide? They see it as their best or last option.

"Cleanest, least bloody option. We try anything else," V thought of the casualties of the other options, "people die."

Johnny didn't seem to understand, "People die. It's the way of things."

V was convinced she was thinking clearer than ever, convinced that this wasn't a rash decision. "Am I worth their sacrifice? Are you?" That was a good point.

Would a thieving mercenary and the ghost of a suicide bomber be worth the lives of countless others?

Would it be worth it for kids to bury their dads or moms?

Would it be worth parents burying their daughters or sons?

Worth someone their losing brothers and sisters?

Worth someone losing a good friend like Jackie?

Worth partners left to bury their boyfriends and girlfriends?

No. Of course not.

Neither of them were worth ruining a family. Let alone several. They weren't worth it all. Certainly not in this lifetime. "Besides, it's the only way we'll both be aware." V finished.

"Of what? Death?" Johnny seemed heartbroken to be letting go again so soon.

"Mhm." V's voice was softer now. "The moment life escapes."

The silence seemed to linger in the air for so long. Is this what death would bring? Silence? Or would be loud and repulsing.

What if death would be better than the entirety of this life she had lived? From what she's heard, most people never realize there's better things out there until they find it.

V didn't realize she could find a friend until she met Jackie. Until she met Johnny. She thought she would live and die alone without anyone batting an eye or caring to notice.

Who knows, maybe if she had chosen to live the extra twenty-four hours longer she would've died without anyone. All alone. Nobody to say goodbye to. Nobody to say they'll miss her. Without even Johnny to ground her and reassure that death isn't that bad. This could be her last chance at a good, honest death.

Was it worth the risk?

V would argue yes.

"Hmm. Never really gave it a thought." Silverhand examined the other's features, maybe trying to read out more than what he was being told. "Funny how you still manage to surprise me, sometimes."

V laughed softly into the chilly air. "Might be something I learned from you."

"V," Johnny looked at her with a face of concern. "You sure about this?" He wanted to be sure that she truly wanted this. That she was actually willing to give it all up. Johnny never had anyone to ask him if he was making the right decision before he died, so he had to be sure he was that person for V. To give her what he had never received.

The mercenary glanced at the gun at her hip. "As long as you have nothing against it." She would hate for Johnny to not feel like he got a choice in the matter. Especially since this was now his life just as much as V's.

"Not how I'da done it, but that's alright." He seemed to finally feel the weight of what was going to be done. And he accepted it rather easily.

V raised a brow, "Just like that, no pushback?"

"Huh, mighta learned a little something from you, too." Johnny reached his chrome arm out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

It was the first time V had felt his touch since the time he tried beating her to death in his apartment. Hell, she had forgotten what his touch even felt like. Or the touch of anyone not trying to punch her, really. She was sure she was one of very few, or quite possibly the only one, to ever experience a gentle touch from the rockerboy. It was exactly as Johnny had intended it, to be comforting.

V nodded. She looked back out to the cityscape, admiring the neon lights and metal buildings from afar. "It really is beautiful."

"Been nice working with ya, V." Johnny said his goodbye, tenderness in his voice that not many had the luxury to hear. The sincerity of his words made the mercenary pause and think again.

So, this was it, huh?

The end?

Everything would be gone forever.

For good.

"Yeah, with you, too, Johnny…" The words were barely able to make it past V's lips. She wanted to cry but she couldn't. Instead, the lump in her throat almost cut off all breathing.

Was this really how it ended?

At least she wasn't alone.

At least she had Johnny.

And at least Silverhand didn't have to die alone this time either, left crying out to empty air. Someone would be there for him this time. Someone who cared.

V would give him something he never had. Something he never knew he needed.

V looked at his chrome hand and took it in hers. She squeezed Johnny's hand. Neither of them could recall the last time they had held someone else's hand. But they were both sure that it didn't mean nearly as much as this time felt now. Wasn't as significant. Nothing would ever be as important as this.

This was a final goodbye.

He met Johnny's eyes with regret.

Not regret of sticking his biochip in her head, nor regret of having met Johnny.

Instead, it was a regret of not having had more time. Of not having met each other sooner.

Neither V nor Johnny were the same people they were before they were forced to each other.

V had been a suckup for corpos, always trusting in officials to make the best choices for the city. She saw no life purpose other than to make a name for herself on the streets. And hope that maybe then she'd die with purpose.

In so little time, she learned so much about legends and that being one wasn't worth the price to pay. She learned that within the blink of an eye you could lose everything. That and sometimes the hardest to make decisions were the most important ones.

Even if he had never had the honour to meet someone like V in his life, to change him for the better, at least he had her in his death.

Who knows? Maybe after all this is over, they'll meet again.

In heaven or another life.

Maybe they'll be reunited under better circumstances and won't have to worry about putting aside their differences to see the decency in each other.

And maybe V would be the one saving Johnny next time around.

As V reached for the pistol and pulled it out from her holster, she felt the rockerboy's grip tense. She pulled back the hammer and saw there was already a bullet in the chamber. She placed the barrel against the underside of her jaw, aimed straight up towards her frontal cortex. She spared a look to Johnny as she rested her finger on the trigger and was met with the saddest eyes imaginable.

Johnny reached his other hand over and wiped a tear from V's cheek with his knuckle. V hadn't noticed she was crying. So that's why the ghost looked so sad- because he had never seen V cry before. His organic hand fell back down to meet with his chrome hand, gripping V's. Both their hearts were beating out of their chests in fear.

So much was left unsaid.

They weren't doing it alone. That's what mattered most.

Yet they couldn't find any way to shape them into coherent statements. So while V steadied her trigger finger and kept eye contact with her ghost as she squeezed the trigger.

V heard the blast just as everything went black.

This time, she didn't have to beg the question if she had flatlined. She knew it to be true. And this time, there was no panic in the darkness. She just let it envelope her.

And this time, Johnny didn't feel so alone. He finally felt like he had pursued a purpose.

If in their lives they hadn't been granted the luxury of peace, at least in death they would.

And even if they weren't perfect people, at least they would be remembered by friends.

That's what counts, right?

Johnny would argue yes.

#johnny silverhand #female v #cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cp77 #canon compliant #this is the first time ive ever published a fic on tumblr i have no idea what im doing #i recorded ten minutes of dialogue of the sui ending and managed to write a solid 6k because i didnt have wifi and i was bored #i figured id upload the female and male versions that i wrote bc yk gender equality #no beta we die like men

0 notes

forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years ago

Text

Cat Ladies

Fandom: Ted Lasso Pairing: Keeley Jones x Rebecca Welton Rating: E Word Count: 8641

For @mjonesing, who I have tortured enough ❤️

Summary: “At the moment, you remind me of Nora at four years old, the Christmas I bought her play-makeup.”

“Oh shit,” Keeley said, laughing wetly and wiping her index fingers beneath her eyes. They came away streaked with black. “Maybe I’m still a little bit panda after all.”

Keeley never felt uncomfortable with her tummy exposed—not until this. It felt like there were a shitload of bats swooping around in there and she wanted to make them be still. Get the roll of bubble wrap and go around and around herself so she looked like Trixibelle, just her head popping out the top, fangs bared. Get back, I’m in distress!

Circling her arm protectively over the strip of skin between her starry top and her cloud pants, Keeley shuffled across the parking lot, back into the building. Except for her purse, she was emptyhanded.

Roy had just kept fucking looking at her until she wanted to scream like she had the night she’d been watching Sex and the City and he’d kept interrupting. What would Carrie Bradshaw do? she wondered, hiccupping wetly as emotion rose up her throat. But she knew the answer to that. After something like this, Carrie would go to her best friends.

Rebecca wasn’t in her office, and that was a serious blow. Keeley collapsed into herself a bit, felt her smile upside-down itself even harder. It reminded her of getting ill at school when she was a kid, staying strong until the teacher let her go to the office to call her mum, and then whimpering down the line, “Mum? Can I come home now please?” Keeley wanted to go home. Because she couldn’t go home at the moment, she wanted to go to Rebecca. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could be strong.

Poor little kit man; he’d seen her smoking over a pair of boots and now he was the only other person in the hallway when she headed for her office. Keeley gave him a tight smile and even tighter nod, but she knew her eyes were shining and the boy was staring at her with zero fucking tact. Had no one ever taken him aside and said, Oi, if you see a woman who’s obviously crying, do her the decency of acting like you haven’t noticed! The attention would only have been acceptable if they’d been close, but Keeley was not yet pathetic enough to cry on that young shoulder. She had dignity. She was going to cry in her office, door firmly shut, like a fucking CEO.

She reached it, but just before she crossed the threshold, she heard someone inside. Twitching her nose and blinking quickly—No, no, no, she told the tears wobbling at the corners of her eyes, change of plan, it’s not time yet—she did what she could to compose herself. Nudging her slipping headband back into place, she stepped inside with a smile.

Rebecca sat on the edge of the desk that had recently been hers, stroking a finger down Trixibelle’s snout and into her mouth to test the sharpness of her ceramic teeth. Keeley slumped in relief.

“Fondling my puss?” she asked loudly, making Rebecca jump to her feet. “I have to say, this is not how I pictured it.”

“God,” Rebecca said. She had slapped a hand to her chest, but she was beaming. “You startled me.”

Though Keeley did her best to keep her smile in place, the longer her friend looked at her, the shakier it felt. Rebecca’s expression shifted from pleased to confused to upset, her mouth hanging slightly open in a way that made her look like some tragic painting, or like a marble sculpture of a goddess in pain. So fucking gorgeous. It kind of made Keeley feel like shit, knowing she was probably about to get snot all over a masterpiece. At least Rebecca wouldn’t be washing that silky blue blouse herself; fancy-pants always sprung for dry cleaning.

“What’s wrong?” Rebecca asked urgently, beckoning Keeley forward.

Keeley’s face warped like it was melting, everything pulling down, her eyes swimming. She was about to finally release whatever wounded animal noise was trapped inside her throat when she recognized that not all of the anguish in her friend’s face was sympathy. She knew what Rebecca looked like when she was simply in comforting mode—as she’d been earlier, when Keeley got up the courage to tender her resignation. This expression was the one Rebecca made when she was trying to be strong.

“What’s wrong with you, babe?” Keeley demanded, though her voice went all wavery and watery partway through.

Her friend reached a hand out and Keeley stumbled forward to grasp it.

“Sam’s staying,” Rebecca stated bluntly. “I didn’t think he would. I’m feeling a bit shellshocked.”

Meeting her eyes, Keeley told her, “Me and Roy just broke up in the parking lot. I’m feeling a bit like a massive asshole.”

She wasn’t sure which of them drew the other in, but she was suddenly clasping her arms tightly around Rebecca’s waist and trying to keep her face pressed to her shoulder so as to avoid smearing wet mascara across her friend’s pale top. Rebecca gathered her close; for as big as she could make herself when she needed to feel brave, she was also excellent at making her body compact, tucking her arms towards her center and bringing Keeley with them. It was just natural, and Keeley felt immediately better for the hug, even if a few tears did roll down her cheeks.

“You could never be an asshole,” Rebecca said kindly, speaking into the thick hair that hung down over Keeley’s ear. The breath that reached her nose carried a sweet whiff of champagne. “Unless you tried to be, and then you’d be brilliant at it.”

“It’s alright if you don’t know what to do about Sam right away,” Keeley counseled back. “You should totally own your feelings, including not knowing how to feel.”

They sighed against each other, then pulled back a little.

“What on earth happened?” Rebecca asked. Her forehead scrunched up like she really cared, because she did really care. Keeley smiled weakly.

“Roy invited me to go on holiday for six weeks.”

“Oh, I hate when men do that.”

The corner of Keeley’s mouth gave a threatening jerk. Rebecca could always make her feel better.

“But I said no,” Keeley continued. “And I thought that was fine! Because I have a colossal heap of shit to do to get ready for my new job.” Rebecca was nodding understandingly. “And Roy seemed to get that…”

“But?” her friend prompted, when Keeley began to get lost in her thoughts, lost in the final, bitter rip of her relationship ending.

“But then he thought not going on this one holiday together meant we were breaking up.” Keeley paused to make a face like crazy, right? and Rebecca’s face agreed. “So I tried to tell him that wasn’t what was happening, and he said he believed me, but then we got outside and he was still making this face.”

Rebecca approximated Roy’s snarl. Keeley shook her head. It dislodged her headband, but before she could fix it, her friend’s hand was already there, setting it right, then smoothing soothingly down her hair as Keeley went on.

“No. It’s this face he makes when he’s really hurt and it fucking kills me, but I didn’t think he was being fair. You know he’s gotten clingier lately.”

“I do,” Rebecca said cautiously. “I thought the two of you were working through that.”

“So did I! So how come I can turn him down for this and he immediately thinks our relationship is over? Zero to fucking panic. I can’t deal with that! Do I need that pressure right now?”

“Definitely not.”

“There is a difference between masculine vulnerability and being so insecure that you need your partner to behave absolutely perfectly or you stop believing they love you.”

Rebecca took a deep breath that Keeley copied, then exhaled with a “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Keeley said in a small voice, “except it still feels like I fucked up by ending it.”

“Do you mind if I say that it sounds like someone had to?”

“I don’t mind. I think I needed you to.” She swallowed, feeling pitiful as she looked up into Rebecca’s eyes. “Thanks.”

Keeley sniffed and gave her shoulders a wriggle to center herself. Her arms unlocked from her friend’s waist, hands sliding down Rebecca’s forearms until they loosely held her wrists. The metal of the bracelet on one and the watch on the other was cold, but it warmed quickly under Keeley’s palms.

“How can I help with you and Sam?” she asked.

“I’m not sure there is a me and Sam,” Rebecca reminded her. “Especially after what he said to Ted.”

Keeley’s mouth dropped open in indignation.

“Sam talked to Ted about the two of you?”

“No, it wasn’t like that.” Rebecca lifted a hand to wave the idea out of the air between them. Her other hand stayed on Keeley’s back. “I was in the room. It was meant for me, really, Sam just either couldn’t say the words to me directly or he didn’t really want to say anything while Ted was there, and it was easier to pretend the sentiment was one shared between player and coach.”

“Did Ted buy that?”

“Oh, not for a moment.” Rebecca heaved a sigh. “Sam will move on by next season, and it’ll probably be for the best. He’s so young.”

“Quit looking at me like that,” Keeley joked. “I’m not nearly as young as Sam. Way more age-appropriate for you.”

She flashed her friend a cheeky smile and Rebecca laughed.

“At the moment, you remind me of Nora at four years old, the Christmas I bought her play-makeup.”

“Oh shit,” Keeley said, laughing wetly and wiping her index fingers beneath her eyes. They came away streaked with black. “Maybe I’m still a little bit panda after all.”

“It’s alright. I have tissues in my office.”

“It’s a date.”

Letting go of Rebecca fully, she darted around her and hefted Trixibelle off the desk. She groaned.

“Sturdy old girl.”

“You can come back for her tomorrow instead, if you’d like,” Rebecca offered.

Keeley considered this, but maintained her hold, boosting Trixibelle against her hip like a rigid, pink toddler.

“Nah, I’d like to keep at least one thing with me.” When Rebecca looked at her curiously, Keeley’s chin trembled. “We packed all my office shit into Roy’s car.”

“And he left with it.”

“He’s taking it to my place for me, because he’s so considerate, but that also means I can’t go home without running into him.”

“Prick,” Rebecca suggested. Keeley nodded. “Well, we’ll just have to take your car to my house. I’ll drive. And I’ll take her in the meantime.”

She scooped Trixibelle from Keeley’s hold. Keeley stared unabashedly at her friend.

“When you hold her, you look like a badass lady-Tarzan, you know that, right?”

“That’s ridiculous,” Rebecca argued. She glanced down at herself. “Tarzan wishes he had these arms.”

They stopped off at Rebecca’s office, collecting her bag and jacket, plus tissues for Keeley, though her tear tracks had mostly dried. She thought it was probably awful of herself to feel like the breakup was a relief, but she had just felt so fucking watched the past couple of months. She still cared about Roy, cared about him enormously, and felt really goddamn glum as she and Rebecca trudged down to the parking lot. Well, Rebecca didn’t trudge any more than a swan could trudge. She might’ve been feeling vulnerable and messy and uncertain on the inside, but her posture was fucking phenomenal. Keeley made an effort to lift her chin and walk like she was trying to sell the pants on her legs.

She knew she looked good, and by the time they reached her car, she even started to feel it. Feet kicking out and hips a-wagging from side to side, Keeley threw Rebecca a wink when she caught her glancing sideways. It made her best friend surprisingly, hilariously flustered, cheeks going all pink. But that could’ve been the bite still in the air. Yep, probably the air.

“This is silly,” Keeley said, wrinkling her nose.

“I only had one glass of champagne, I promise.”

“Not that, babe, I trust you. I mean, I can drive.”

Rebecca stood at the driver’s side door, hand out for the keys.

“Despite how much the information always seems to surprise people,” her friend said, “so can I.”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to do this for me.”

“No,” Rebecca agreed. “I don’t. But I’m going to. Now come on, hand them over.”

“We’ll swap.”

Keeley motioned for Trixibelle and Rebecca relinquished her, easing the keys out from Keeley’s curled fingers afterward. Door unlocked, Keeley opened the back seat first and got her pink companion buckled in. Some of the bubbles on the bubble wrap exploded as she snugged the belt in tight, and she did yelp, but at least she knew Trixibelle would be secure.

“Saw you laughin’ at me,” she quipped when she sat down in the passenger’s seat.

“I wouldn’t!”

“You did too! I saw your face in the rear-view mirror while you were adjusting it!”

“Maybe I was just laughing because I feel comically tall with how you have everything positioned.” As Rebecca spoke, she fiddled with the seat adjustment, sliding herself farther from the pedals so her longer legs weren’t cramped.

“Yeah, I normally sit on a big stack of books to see over the steering wheel too. I’ve got ’em in the back, do you want me to get ’em?”

Rebecca looked completely stunned until Keeley’s expression of serious enquiry cracked.

“I knew that couldn’t be true,” Rebecca said, laughing with her.

“I had you for a second there! Whenever I pull that with Roy, he—”

The words got stuck in her throat somewhere. Her friend didn’t push, didn’t fill the silence with hollow clichés, she just drove them out of the parking lot. At the second red light they hit, Rebecca caught Keeley’s eye and reached questioningly towards the stereo. Keeley nodded.

On the drive, she cupped her chin in her hand and flip-flopped between her feelings. She was sad about Roy, but she was honestly glad for the break. He was all she would think about, but maybe her new job would keep her too busy to really mope. She was going to be all alone now, but she wasn’t, because Rebecca was here.

Keeley looked at Rebecca, how her hands were gripping the wheel perfectly, how her lips twitched like she was trying so fucking hard not to sing along to Lady Gaga. She was such a good friend, and maybe they’d become even better friends. Now that Rebecca was no longer her boss, maybe they’d grow closer. They wouldn’t get to hang out in the halls between calls and meetings, or drop by each other’s office, but they could spend more of their free time together, couldn’t they? Keeley knew she’d love to go more places with Rebecca that weren’t the rank boot room or the VIP seats for every one of Richmond’s home games.

By the end of “Bad Romance,” Keeley was grinning at Rebecca. Rebecca saw her from the corner of her eye.

“Go on then,” Keeley urged when the station played Robyn’s “Indestructible” next.

They were both singing at full volume by the chorus. Rebecca’s hands rhythmically paddled the leather center of the wheel, avoiding the horn, and Keeley swung her head to and fro, arms stretched as high over her head as the ceiling would allow.

“Richmond should buy me a new convertible!”

“Richmond no longer employs you,” her friend and non-boss reminded her as the song faded out.

“But as, like, a bonus. You should have a budget for buying your friends cars; you have a dog budget.”

“Well, we couldn’t go without a mascot forever. I think we waited an appropriate length of time after Earl. Anyway, you know all of this,” Rebecca said. “You determined it yourself with that Twitter poll.”

“Whoever replaces me should do more posts about the puppy. People eat that shit up.”

“They really do, don’t they?”

“You could probably get a statement from the Barkingham Palace lady. Fuck, what was her name?” Keeley snapped her fingers. “Suzi Campbell. Just so long as you don’t tell her I don’t work for you anymore, I’m sure she’d be happy to give you something really positive and useable.”

“Sorry,” Rebecca laughed, “but why are we withholding your employment status from Ms. Campbell?”

“Because she has a huge crush on me. Oh yeah!” Keeley assured her friend when she glanced over. “She’s a bloody Keeley Jones fangirl! Kissed my hand and everything! Man, if I were looking for a quick rebound...”

“Well that is a rude awakening.”

Keeley erupted into loud laughter.

“Shut up,” she said, giggling, “you know you’d be my first choice.”

“Having a crush on you is practically a competitive sport,” Rebecca said thoughtfully, turning onto her street. “It’s me versus the entire internet.”

“Yeah, but the entire internet isn’t my best friend. I don’t need some creep who fancies themself an expert on my life. Bleh,” she said, shuddering dramatically until her friend saw and smiled.

“I’ll try my best not to get to know you any better than I already do, shall I?”

Keeley smiled back and wondered, as they slowed to a stop in front of Rebecca’s home, why her friend hadn’t frozen, waiting for Keeley to acknowledge the whole thing was a joke. That was what had happened the first time Keeley had pretended to come on to her, acting as though Richmond’s away game in Liverpool was just an excuse to fuck Rebecca in a posh hotel. But then… she hadn’t initiated it this time, had she? It’d been Rebecca who’d joked about being jealous of the dog lady, Rebecca who’d joked about having a crush. Rebecca had bantered easily the whole time, not shying from the subject she’d introduced in the least, which, in retrospect, made her joking more like… flirting?

No! Keeley’s post-breakup brain was teasing her; Rebecca was just being supportive, keeping the conversation light and complimentary after the shit turn Keeley’s day had taken. Wow, she’d really had herself going for a minute there.

Rebecca killed the engine and swung her door open, but Keeley grabbed her arm to delay her.

“Which Sex and the City lady do you think I am?” she demanded, eyes earnest.

“Oh, Carrie. Undoubtedly. Whereas I’m on the Miranda-Samantha spectrum, sliding closer to Samantha every day. By design.”

“It’s filthy work, but somebody’s gotta do it.”

“Exactly.”

Keeley released her and lifted her hand to drum her fingers on her chin.

“They would’ve made a hot couple, wouldn’t they? Carrie and Samantha?”

“So hot,” Rebecca agreed, shaking her head for emphasis as she reached into the back seat for her bag. “They had fantastic chemistry. Samantha would’ve rocked Carrie’s world.”

Keeley heard her own faint laughter, thrown by the conviction of her friend’s answer and by the way the pale-blue blouse went taut as she twisted. She could see the edges of the cups of Rebecca’s bra and didn’t glance away as quickly as she should have. Her heart raced.

“Best bring Trixibelle indoors for the night,” Rebecca said brightly. She stepped out of the car and turned, hunching to beam in at Keeley. “I’ll go unlock the door, if you think you can handle her.”

“Yeah, I’ll be alright.”

“You’re sure? She’s a big girl. And slippery! You have to hold her just right.”

Throat unusually dry, Keeley nodded.

“God, what am I saying?” Rebecca said with a self-deprecating grin. Excellent fucking question, Keeley thought, slightly stunned. “Of course you know what you’re doing with your own—” If you say puss right now, Keeley decided, I’m making a move. “—statue.”

Oh.

Well.

That was for the best. She’d never gotten horny this soon after a breakup before, but it was almost definitely just a reaction to losing Roy. Gut instinct. Evolutionary drive to find a mate or whatever. She liked being in love, but she’d need to resist imagining flirtation and dirty talk where they did not exist.

She got out of the car and freed Trixibelle from the seatbelt, damp palms squeaking on the bubble wrap.

When Rebecca went upstairs (look at that fit bum, Keeley thought), she probably checked her email and things in between changing out of her work clothes, but once she came down to lounge around with Keeley, her full focus came with her. Gnawing her bottom lip, Keeley tried to subtly slip her phone back into the pocket of her cloud bottoms, but her friend saw. She definitely wouldn’t have cared if Keeley weren’t so shit at making her face say that everything was fine.

Everything wasn’t fine.

“I was just checking to see if he texted,” she said meekly. She didn’t need to say the name, so she didn’t. “He hasn’t.”

“Did you really want him to?”

Keeley sighed heavily and slumped back into the sofa.

“I guess not. Hurts though.” She thought for another moment as Rebecca stood there patiently, expression radiating guarded concern. “We’ll only make a bigger mess of it if we talk tonight. I think we’ll both need a bit of space if we ever want to…”

She trailed off. If they wanted to what? Stay friends? Get back together at some point down the road? Keeley realized she didn’t really know what she wanted to happen, beyond getting the space she needed right now. She drew her legs up, wedging her chin between her knees, and thrust her phone towards Rebecca.

“Take it away from me. Please.”

“Alright.”

Rebecca took it and strode away into her kitchen. When she came back, she proposed guzzling white wine and ordering in greasy fish and chips. Keeley made her eyes big and pouted until Rebecca gave in to her pleas for Korean barbecue instead.

“Please,” she said, “I’m so sad. I think I might cry.”

“You’ll only cry because you’ve got your eyes so wide to make that face, and you aren’t blinking.” Rebecca stared at her. “Jesus, that’s impressive.”

Keeley finally blinked and grinned.

“Fine!” Rebecca said, walking out again to order their takeaway.

“Thanks! Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

So they spent their evening clinking their glasses, licking their fingers, and watching Lust Conquers All. It was terrible, and Keeley loved it so much. She’d never indulged while she and Roy were together, aware that it might’ve upset him to see her glued to the TV while a half-naked Jamie strutted around onscreen, but now the show was in a new season, and Jamie was gone, and Roy was gone, and Keeley was tipsy on Rebecca’s crisp, delicious wine. It was a good job Rebecca had taken her phone away; she would’ve been incoherently live-tweeting the whole thing, smearing gingery sauce across her screen.

Keeley got up to pee and when she came back, Rebecca was sloppily stacking the detritus of their meal, then scrubbing her hands clean with some sort of rich-people wet wipes. Keeley plopped into the sofa on her knees and scooted close to her friend.

Lifting Rebecca’s hand to her nose, she said, “Ooh, lemony,” and thought seriously (drunkenly) about giving her friend’s skin just a quick lick, imagination dancing with cartoon lemon meringue pies. God, she could destroy a lemon meringue pie right now.

Unfortunately, she’d mumbled the thought aloud and Rebecca tugged her hand away, laughing. Looking at Keeley with shining eyes, she pulled the headband from her hair. Keeley’d forgotten she had it on and her scalp felt immediately better in its absence. Rebecca had already un-styled her own hair—it looked chic as fuck, the bounciness of it flipped away at the curling ends. Between one blink and the next, Keeley had her hand in it, sweeping a segment off her friend’s forehead only for it to drop back into place.

They both turned when one of the female contestants on the TV let out a whoop, but that entertainment felt distant now. Keeley skimmed her fingers through Rebecca’s hair and had what seemed like the best idea of her life. She grabbed her shoulders and clambered onto her lap, facing her.

“Oh, hello,” Rebecca said. Her calm face was vaguely surprised, but her hands slipped behind Keeley’s knees like she’d done this before, pulling her a little closer so she wouldn’t topple backwards off the couch.

“Hello. I’ve just remembered you promised to show me what you look like in pigtails.”

“Not sure I promised…”

“Shh,” Keeley said, dividing Rebecca’s hair into uneven halves. She craned her neck up to see over the top of her friend’s head, but she couldn’t see the back. That didn’t feel especially important. It would be close enough. “I’m a genius.”

“You’re a genius who doesn’t have any hair ties,” Rebecca observed, once Keeley had approximately half of her fair hair gathered in each of her fists.

“Don’t need ’em.”

“Alright.”

Rebecca closed her eyes, smiling. Her hands were warm, now resting on Keeley’s thighs. Her head bobbed back and Keeley cradled it in her hands without fumbling the pigtails too much.

“Do they look beautiful?” Rebecca asked.

“Fuck yeah.”

Rebecca opened her eyes and said, “Now you.”

Keeley’s arms were getting tired and as Rebecca reached around for her long, kinked hair, she let go of one of the pigtails without really noticing. Drawing Keeley’s hair over the front of her shoulder, Rebecca began to braid it. Poorly.

“That doesn’t look right,” Keeley said.

“Shush. I’m trying to concentrate.” Rebecca was staring at her hair very hard, and yet her fingers wove it into a chaotic tangle, some strands just wrapping around and around others without really being incorporated into the braid at all.

“Your concentration is shit.”

“Stop moving your head to look!”

“If I don’t watch you, you’ll have my hair wound up like a ball of yarn big enough for Trixibelle to bat around!”

“Trixibelle,” Rebecca enunciated slowly, gaze lasered in on the disaster she was making of Keeley’s hair, “is not alive.”

Keeley jerked back, scoffing in fake outrage.

“How dare you.”

“Now you’ve ruined it,” Rebecca said. The braid had slipped from her hands.

Before Keeley could tease her about the braid being ruined the second she’d begun, Rebecca began to methodically unravel her creation. She was as good at this as she’d been fucking tragic at braiding. Her nails never snagged in Keeley’s hair, just worked patiently through it. Something about the treatment made Keeley’s eyelids heavy, so she closed them and released Rebecca’s other pigtail, moving her hand to cup the back of her friend’s neck.

“Almost done,” Rebecca murmured.

The tan, horny Lust Conquers All contestants flirted with desperate shamelessness in the background. But Rebecca must have turned the volume down because the voices were no longer brash and whining in their bids to be the center of attention. Apart from the TV behind Keeley, the living room had become completely dark, the spring nights still coming early and lasting a lazy long time.

Rebecca undid the braid all the way to Keeley’s roots. When her fingernails scratched against the scalp, Keeley hummed and opened her eyes.

“What did you think about, when you thought about it?” Rebecca asked, looking somewhere below Keeley’s eyes.

Partially wine-drunk or not, the question made sense to Keeley because she’d thought about this too, the far-fetched possibility that Rebecca would actually ask one day. That she’d remember when they were leaving for Liverpool and Keeley’d told her that she’d imagined it, the two of them.

Keeley held Rebecca’s face in her hands, and that went ok. She angled Rebecca’s jaw gently upwards, and that went ok too, so she tipped forward and kissed her. Rebecca sighed and opened her mouth. Her nails scraped Keeley’s scalp again as she clutched at her hair, holding her close. Fuck, Keeley had been curious about this for such a long time.

Rebecca’s mouth was warm and surprisingly confident and when a moan rang up Keeley’s throat like an echo from a well, one of her hands went back to Keeley’s thigh, sliding up to her hip. Just as Keeley was coaxing her tongue into her mouth, Rebecca leaned back.

“Is this a good idea?” she asked hazily.

“No,” Keeley said. “Yes. No. Yes.”

Rebecca offered Keeley her lips and Keeley kissed her more deeply, crowding her into the back of the sofa. She traced Rebecca’s ears, pressed her palms to her neck. The faded scent of perfume wafted up when she dragged her hands away; she breathed through her nose, feeling lightheaded and relaxed.

Falling from Keeley’s hair, Rebecca’s hand caught on the tie of her starry top—whether accidentally or on purpose, Keeley couldn’t tell. The tie was just decorative and the thin bow tumbled apart without any revealing consequences. But it put a thought in Keeley’s head, so she pursued that thought, clutching at Rebecca’s ribcage and then slinking her hands up to lightly squeeze her breasts.

“Oh,” Rebecca sighed, and Keeley grinned against her mouth, prepared to keep going, but then she said it again more seriously: “Oh.”

Keeley sat back (as much as she could) and swiftly folded her hands in her lap. Her friend looked at her frankly.

“It’s not a good idea,” Rebecca declared.

Keeley’s mouth turned down without her permission as she nodded.

“We’ve had a bit to drink,” she said, “and I understand—you don’t really feel that way about me. That’s alright.”

“I’m not stopping because I want to stop, I’m stopping because I don’t want to stop.” Rebecca frowned and looked off to the side. “Did that make sense?”

“Not a fucking bit of it.”

“This is not… I don’t think…” Rebecca took a deep breath, absently patting Keeley’s thighs. “I feel as if I’m taking advantage of the… the state you’re in.”

“Oh yeah? What state am I in, then?” Keeley crossed her arms as she played aggressive, but it was really to protect herself.

Rebecca looked her dead in the eye.

“You’re lonely.”

Keeley blinked and recovered from the cold splash of reality after the cozy, boozy evening they’d been having, worried about nothing but the gratuitous bellybutton piercings on Lust Conquers All, and which of the fellas would be getting a handy in the outdoor shower.

“So are you, aren’t you?” Keeley tossed back, searching her friend’s face in the shifting light of the TV. “Since stepping back from things with Sam? Listen, babe, if the real reason is you just aren’t into me like that, please say it straight out, because otherwise I gotta think it’s fucking stupid that we don’t fuck to cope.”

A laugh burst out of Rebecca.

“Keeley, you have to admit, that hardly sounds healthy.”

“We can call Dr. Sharon if you want, but I honestly feel like this one’s up to us. We’re each other’s support system, yeah?”

“Doesn’t that make it not about… us?” Rebecca asked, pointing at herself and then at Keeley. “We don’t want each other for each other, we’re trying to replace Sam and Roy.”

“Would you be alright with that?”

“Would you?”

Apparently, neither of them had an answer to that, so Keeley climbed backwards off of Rebecca’s lap. She was only standing for a second or two before Rebecca reached for her hand and gave a little tug. When Keeley sat down beside her, Rebecca drew her in. They hugged each other for a long, long while.

—

Keeley took off her rings and washed her face clean and went to bed as a guest in Rebecca’s house. Not a romantic guest who Rebecca’s mum could come ’round in the morning to discover tangled up with her daughter under the duvet or standing naked in the kitchen (those stories of Sam and Luca were objectively hilarious, even though Rebecca’s face had burned when she’d confided them), just a normal guest who slept in a different bed, in a different room. The sexiness had even been taken out of borrowed pajamas; both the sleeves and the pantlegs were too long on Keeley, though the icy-pink satin was lovely, and she did enjoy wiggling around under the covers. When she licked her teeth, she could still taste a hint of the wine under the minty bite of toothpaste.

The wiggling got boring and Keeley got annoyed that she wasn’t falling asleep. She thought about asking Rebecca where she bought these great fucking sheets. She thought about Lust Conquers All, and mentally arranged the contestants in order of who she’d most like to fuck. She thought about going home and how Roy would really have left this time. No. She thought about her new job. She thought about answers she’d give to interview questions about how she balanced being so business savvy with being so fucking hot. She thought about the Vanity Fair interview and how, really, it was lucky that Roy hadn’t made it into a single glossy photograph.

Keeley only knew she’d managed to fall asleep for a while because she woke up with her cheeks wet and no memory of crying.

It was still dark, very, very early in the morning, but the light on Rebecca’s charging electric toothbrush blinked on and off through the open bathroom door and that was enough to see by as Keeley shuffled out of the guest bedroom.

She didn’t want to startle Rebecca out of sleep and find out what kind of a fight a person could drowsily initiate when they were defending their home and had sexy buff arms, so she stood safely in the doorway and hissed, “Babe? Babe?”

Keeley’s eyes were adjusting to the dimness of Rebecca’s bedroom and she saw the shape her friend made under the duvet, saw her roll over and look towards the door.

“Keeley?” Her voice was thick, but maybe hopeful.

“I need someone,” Keeley confessed. She felt cold and tingly, bare feet on plush carpet, though the house was warm. She was scared. “Tonight, I need that someone to be you.” She swallowed. “I’m alone—”

“You’re not,” Rebecca said from her bed. “Come here.”

The last word was muzzy, underarticulated. It had sort of sounded as though she’d said “home,” even if Keeley knew she hadn’t really. She decided she would let herself pretend.

“Give me the warm side,” Keeley quietly complained, easing between her friend’s cool sheets.

“No.”

But Rebecca tucked her knees up and let Keeley thrust her feet into the heated space where her legs had been.

For several minutes, half an hour even, they lay still and breathed in the soft dark.

…And then Rebecca edged forward to kiss Keeley’s forehead. Keeley kept her eyes shut as she accepted it, thinking of Roy, thinking of Rebecca, thinking of old and new things she wanted and how to tell the difference. She didn’t know, but Rebecca was the one there when she opened her eyes.

“You’re full of shit,” she said, while Rebecca tenderly kissed her cheeks, her chin.

“I beg your pardon?”

“What you said before,” Keeley clarified. “I’m not trying to use you as a replacement for Roy. Are you using me to replace Sam?”

Rebecca shifted back. Her hair made a swishing noise on the pillowcase.

“No. You’re totally right. I’m full of shit. I don’t know what the hell I was talking about.”

“You were just worried about me.”

“I’m the one who’s lonely,” Rebecca said. “I think I’m afraid of what it would feel like to be in a relationship where I don’t feel lonely.”

“Whoa, relationship? I’m just trying to get in your knickers.”

Keeley laughed at her own bad humour, but Rebecca leaned in until their noses touched and said, “Go on then.”

Smiling, Keeley snuggled close to Rebecca, merging their little pockets of heat into something quite cozy. It grew warmer as they kissed until the satin pajamas felt stifling against Keeley’s skin. She wanted Rebecca to lift the back of her top and really touch her. In case Rebecca was just feeling a bit unsure (though Keeley felt she’d been pretty clear that this was a middle-of-the-night, house-guest booty call), Keeley initiated. She fingered Rebecca’s collar—the two-piece satin set extremely similar to the one Keeley had on, which seemed extra hilarious—and then undid her top button.

Keeley broke the kiss, slightly out of breath when she asked, “This ok?”

It felt as though Rebecca nodded, but if they were gonna do more than they’d done on the sofa, Keeley wanted to know that Rebecca wasn’t still torn on whether or not it was a good idea.

“Babe,” she pushed, gripping the front of Rebecca’s pajama top, “can you say it for me?”

She heard Rebecca clear her throat and then, “Yes. Yes, it’s ok.”

“Good. Thanks, babe,” Keeley said, thanking her further by angling her head to kiss Rebecca’s neck.

Rebecca moaned softly and kneaded Keeley’s hip. When her hand moved to Keeley’s lower back to bring her closer, the pajamas helped slide her across the sheets. Keeley was so going to buy herself a set that actually fit. She didn’t see how Rebecca could just wear them on a regular night though; now that they were doing this, the pajamas seemed way too sexy to throw on when going to bed alone.

Once Keeley had all of Rebecca’s buttons undone and was just beginning to smooth her palm down the center of her chest, Rebecca got brave. Her fingers scrabbled for the elastic waist of Keeley’s bottoms and dove inside to squeeze her hip, then plunge down to grab a handful of her bum. Keeley gripped Rebecca’s chin and kissed her frantically. It felt as though everything was suddenly ramping up. Brushing the open front of her best friend’s pajama top aside, she fondled her breasts vigorously, quickly narrowing in on her nipples and plucking at them. Colour probably looked great beside Keeley’s metallic gold nail varnish. Oh well; it just meant they’d have to do this again when it was light, for the aesthetic. Rebecca would understand.

Getting seriously wet now, Keeley hooked a knee over Rebecca’s hip, but Rebecca surprised her by rolling them until Keeley was pinned to the mattress.

Kissing paused, Rebecca hovered over her and laughed at herself.

“I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I can help if you can be more specific,” Keeley offered.

“Well, I’ve never…” Rebecca floundered. “I’ve never gone to bed with anyone smaller than myself. I mean, sometimes the men are slightly shorter, but they’re also—”

“All muscley and shit?”

“Exactly. And then, of course, I’ve never gone to bed with a woman.”

“You know, it’s fucking insane to me that you never tried it on with Sass,” Keeley said, half expressing something that genuinely distressed her and half trying to ease the tension she could feel pouring off of Rebecca.

Rebecca laughed nervously.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Yes you do,” Keeley said. “Because, listen, you know what feels good here…” She guided Rebecca down by the nape of her neck and kissed her slowly, their lips dragging against each other.

“And you know what feels good here…” she said a minute later, cupping Rebecca’s breasts. Her top still hung open and it drove Keeley mad every time Rebecca shifted above her and she could feel the weight of her tits through her borrowed pajama top.

“And I know you know what feels good here,” Keeley finished, skimming a hand down her best friend’s stomach and feeling goosebumps rise. Rebecca’s breathing hitched and Keeley didn’t stop, slipping her hand into her bottoms, trailing lower and lower. “You came into work fucking glowing some days, and I knew you hadn’t started dating yet.”

“I—” Rebecca exhaled shakily. “I have an idea!”

“Oh, well, alright then,” Keeley said, confused when Rebecca sprang off of her.

“I do know what feels good there,” Rebecca explained.

Keeley heard a drawer sliding open, then the sound of Rebecca rummaging around in there. Rebecca sat down beside her. Now, Keeley heard buzzing.

Rebecca pressed the vibrator against Keeley’s palm and said, “Is this cheating?”

Everything inside Keeley melted like a chocolate bar.

“Fuck no,” she choked out.

“Excellent. Take off your pants.”

Keeley grinned and wriggled out of them with more enthusiasm than grace. Left in a fully-buttoned pajama top, it was more than she’d been given by the wardrobe people at most of her photoshoots. The satiny fabric draped down over her hips, but only until Rebecca stroked a hand along her thigh, gliding the material up when she reached her hips.

The vibrator made contact below Keeley’s bellybutton, making her shivery right the way through her skin. Her heart didn’t feel like it was pumping so much as jiggling in place as Rebecca danced the vibrator lower. Skipping to the side, she pressed it to the sweaty crook where Keeley’s thigh and hip met. It buzzed against her pulse until Keeley was ready to scream in frustration, but then Rebecca—sweet, inexperienced Rebecca (bullshit)—crept it inward, placing the rounded end not far above her clit. Keeley’s eyes shot up to watch Rebecca make the face she made when she was psyching herself up, and then the vibrator stroked down over her clit, making her hips hop off the bed.

“Fuck!”

“Sorry, was that too—"

Clutching at her arm, Keeley tugged until Rebecca moved on top of her, pressing the vibrator up against her clit more firmly during the repositioning. Keeley panted, the back of her head pushing down into one of Rebecca’s plush pillows, her neck exposed to the nipping kisses Rebecca planted there as she began moving the vibrator in light circles. She could feel the action getting smoother, the silicone surface becoming more coated in arousal every time Rebecca passed it near her entrance. When Rebecca made an adjustment that had it vibrating faster, Keeley’s hips began rocking with the motion of her hand.

Cheeks flushed, she trained her gaze on the side of Rebecca’s face.

“I’m gonna come soon,” she said. She felt tingly all the way up her neck.

Sneaking her hands inside Rebecca’s top, she grasped her waist, then skated her palms around to Rebecca’s bare back. Rebecca lifted her face from Keeley’s neck and Keeley could see half-lowered eyelids, slackly parted lips.

Keeley cried out when she came, one second lost in Rebecca’s lust-drunk expression, the next second glimpsing snatches of the dark bedroom ceiling as her lashes fluttered and her body went stiff, then still. Rebecca decreased the vibration frequency, floating Keeley through the end of her climax, before taking the toy away. Keeley lay there and blinked. She probably could’ve laid there and blinked for the rest of the night, or until she fell asleep, but Rebecca’s face was above hers, looking cautiously pleased.

“That was amazing,” Keeley said quietly. When Rebecca nodded, encouraged, she added, “Well, guess I’ll see you in the morning,” and made like she was getting up to go.

A noise of disbelief popped out of Rebeca—lying there on her side, propped up on an elbow, satin draped fluidly over the slopes of her chest and waist. As if Keeley was going to leave her for a lonely night in the guest bedroom.

“Babe,” she said, “I’m joking.”

Rebecca’s mouth crumpled inward like a paper bag, but then a laugh spurted out.

“I get you every fucking time!” Keeley shouted over the laughter. “I can’t believe it!”

“You are terrible,” Rebecca said. “Get down here.”

Smiling, Keeley leaned forward from where she was sitting. Rebecca’s fingers threaded into her hair, leading her in to be kissed.

“You didn’t really think I was gonna leave you high and dry, did you?” Keeley checked, speaking against Rebecca’s lips as they gradually separated.

“You wouldn’t have been leaving me dry, in any event,” Rebecca said wryly.

“Oh yeah?”

Rebecca wouldn’t say any more than that, so Keeley grinned mischievously and slunk close to her, slipping down into the sheets. Rebecca rolled obligingly onto her back. When she laughed, Keeley beamed, but she wasn’t trying to be funny. They made out lazily for a minute before Keeley began to kiss down Rebecca’s chest. Before she could get too far, Rebecca felt for the buttons on her pajama top, swiftly undoing them.

“The pictures don’t do you justice,” Rebecca noted, glancing from Keeley’s tits to her face.

Keeley was weirdly and unexpectedly moved by that; it was all she was to so many people: a set of tits to hang as a poster in a university dorm or inside a cubby in the AFC Richmond locker room. A really fucking great set of tits, but still. It meant something to her that Rebecca could appreciate her as a real person, an entire person. That was how they’d arrived here.

“They deserve to be complimented,” Keeley said, briefly glancing down at her chest. “They were my money-makers before some clever, rich, ballsy-as-hell owner of a football club became the first person in my professional career to acknowledge that I also have a brain that works pretty fucking well.”

“Well, if you ever get a brain scan, I want a copy of the imaging.”

“Yeah? You into that?” Keeley scattered kisses over Rebecca’s stomach. “Wanna wank to pictures of the inside of my head?” She lifted her head for a second and winked. The struggle between humour and desire was obvious in Rebecca’s expression. “You wanna lick all the little crevices of my prefrontal cortex and shit? Deep-throat my brain stem?”

“Stop,” Rebecca pleaded, gasping as the laughter won out.

“Hey, no judgement from me, babe. You know that.” Her kisses reached the waist of Rebecca’s pajama bottoms, so, getting her to lift her bum, Keeley removed them unhurriedly. “Unless it’s illegal—and even then, I always thought the phrase ‘accessory after the fact’ sounded a little bit sexy.”

“You are… wonderful,” Rebecca finished, tone awed.

“You totally wanna hire me back, don’t you?” Keeley asked with a smirk. She held Rebecca’s hips and bent to sprinkle kisses there. “But you’re just too damn proud of what I’ve accomplished under your mentorship to actually cock up and try to bribe me with cars and promotions.”

Rebecca let out a single laugh, brushing Keeley’s hair to the side as she placed her first feathery kisses on Rebecca’s cunt.

“Yes,” she said, either an answer to Keeley’s question or a reaction to Keeley’s hand joining the game. She was as wet as she’d implied and Keeley’s finger glided effortlessly inside her. “Maybe I’ll hang on to the urge to rehire you and we can roleplay it sometime.”

“I knew you’d be great,” Keeley encouraged, pumping her finger until it touched a spot that made Rebecca groan. “See? You know what to do. And you look fucking gorgeous.”

Rebecca grunted, “More,” and Keeley added another finger.

Hyping Rebecca up verbally was great and all, but she liked the sound of her one-word answers and really wanted to work her down to noises only. Sexy sex noises, like Rebecca made when Keeley curled her fingers and pressed up under her clit with the tip of her tongue. While Rebecca’s gasp was still dissipating in the air, Keeley fixed the duvet so it lay across her shoulders and settled in. She was slightly crunched up, occupying the half of the bed meant for legs and maybe a hot water bottle on a chilly night, but her orgasm had lubricated her limbs, so she felt loose and committed to being down here for as long as it took.

The noises were well worth it.

Rebecca had more distinct moans than there were days in a week. She oh god-ed when Keeley licked her clit slowly and stroked a hand down the length of one of her long legs, feeling Rebecca’s toes curling into the sheet. She had a stage where she babbled, and then a stage where she was silent, thighs beginning to tremble. The shout at the end as her back bowed with pleasure was the only bit Keeley was sure surprised them both.

She wiped her mouth and crawled up to flop beside Rebecca, who was doing the opposite of what she’d done—lying there with her eyes blissfully closed like she was afloat on a warm sea, or on the surface of a steaming bowl of stew. Shit, Keeley could’ve inhaled a bowl of stew. With, like, a really beefy gravy and a nasty ol’ squirt of ketchup mixed in. She was maybe still a teensy bit tipsy.

“You are the Queen of Diamonds,” Keeley blurted nonsensically, struck by the sight of Rebecca’s pale, mussed hair in the dark. “That was fucking phenomenal.”

Rebecca huffed a breathy laugh.

“It certainly fucking was.”

“Next time you go to bed with a woman, I don’t want to hear about how you didn’t know what you were doing,” Keeley said, forcing her smile to stay up even though she was frightened.

“I’ll be enough knowing that you heard me say it once,” Rebecca said blithely. Her carefree smile fell when she turned her head and opened her eyes to look at Keeley. “You know it’ll be you, don’t you? It won’t be someone else.”

“I just think…” Keeley said very carefully. “…that we went into this really fast, and if this is just, like, a rebound situation… we can’t promise each other things.”

“I don’t think it is for me, is it for you?” Rebecca asked.

“I can’t say for sure yet.” Keeley shrunk down into her shoulders. “Would you hate me?”

Rebecca sighed.

“You’re my best friend in the whole world. I could only ever love you. I love you.”

“Even if we fucked because we’re a little bit sad and lonely?”

“Even then, because we aren’t sad and lonely with each other.”

“Right,” Keeley agreed. “I love you too.”

“You’re not going to— You’ll stay in here tonight, won’t you?”

“Yeah. And if all seems good in the morning, maybe I’ll stay the rest of the weekend. And if this is really…” Her words got blocked up in her throat and she swallowed, looking into Rebecca’s accepting eyes.

“Real?” Rebecca guessed quietly. “If it’s really real, you stay here more, and I stay at your place sometimes, and we watch horrible TV and work out how to fit our lives together when we don’t work in the same building anymore.”

Keeley blew out slowly.

“That sounds intense.”

“Yes, it does.”

Rebecca looked worried, so Keeley joked, “But then again, you’ve already met my cat.”

“I’m not sure she likes me. Her body language seemed a little… stiff.”

Under the covers, Keeley took Rebecca’s hand gently in her own and stared at her as though she was about to deliver some difficult news. She said, “Rebecca. Trixibelle is not alive.”

Rebecca chuckled and raised her arm as Keeley rolled and snuggled back against her. Keeley felt sort of bad for all the nice pieces of sleepwear stuffed in the bottom of the bed and flung off onto the floor, but this was nicer. She took a deep breath and tried shutting her eyes for the first time since being by herself in the other room.

“You’ll get through it,” Rebecca said softly. “You already are.”

“You will too,” Keeley said back, getting sleepy. “But maybe you could hold me a little bit tighter all the same.”

“Of course.”

Keeley wasn’t sure if even the weight of Rebecca’s arm securely around her waist would stop them from drifting apart while they slept, but it was.

She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to dream sweet dreams after such an emotional day, but she did.

#my writing #Ted Lasso #Ted Lasso spoilers #Ted Lasso fanfic #Keeley Jones #Rebecca Welton #Keeley x Rebecca

21 notes · View notes

allforhader · 4 years ago

Text

Our Little Secret

Officer Slater x (F) Reader

Requested by: @berkmansbabe

Warnings: Langauge, Some Smut

“Hey, you finally fucking show up” Y/N laughs at the three finally joining her at the park.

“Well unlike you, we have a schedule that isn’t in our control” Seth states sitting on the picnic table on the bench while Y/N sat on the table itself.

Fogel sat on the other side of her with a nervous smile. Little does she know that he likes her. But Y/N only saw the three as friends, nothing more.

“I gotta get a new lighter if we’re gonna pass this shit around” Y/N smiles twiddling with a joint container before getting up. “Anybody wanna go to the liquor store on the corner with me or am I walking solo?”

“I’ll go!” Fogel got up from the table stumbling a bit making Seth and Evan groan. They know he likes her but won’t say anything about it.

“Alright. I’ll get drinks while I’m there as well. I know the owner” Y/N smiles walking with Fogel to the liquor store.

Y/N opens the door for them as the jingle of the bell caught the owner’s attention.

“Y/N!”

“Sup pops” Y/N smiles high fiving the owner over the counter leaving Fogel confused.

“Is he your actual...?”

“No my good man, no I am not. And thank god for that one” the owner laughs as Y/N rolls her eyes going to get what she came there for.

Fogel waited with the owner while Y/N not only went in the back to snag a few drinks without pay cuz the owner is used to it with her, but grab a lighter.

“McLovin’??”

The owner’s attention draws to the two officers stepping in as he quickly grabs his permits and such.

“Oh hey! What are you doing here?”

“Beer run my guy” Micheals pays his shoulder. “Then yknow. The usual with cops on a break”

Fogel nodded pretending he knew what he meant.

“So what are you doing here McLovin? Not here for alcohol yeah?” Slater laughs with Micheals.

“No I’m here wi—“

“Y/N NOW YOU GOTTA BUY THE LIGHTER IF YOU’RE GOING TO USE IT” The owner yells as Y/N steps into the isle to the door lighting the joint already before freezing when she noticed the cops.

“I am gonna buy it old man...just uh. Who called the cops?”

“No one ma’am, we’re off duty” Micheals smiles as Slater locked eyes with Y/N while she took a hit with a smirk on her face.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer” Y/N laughs catching Slater off guard.

“OH! Yeah. Officer Micheals. Officer Slater. This is Y/N. She’s who I came here with”

“Oh is she a lucky lady?” Micheals teases while Slater straightens himself still getting a longing look from Y/N.

“Nope. I am very...single” Y/N smiles handing the owner the money she owes for the lighter. “Now, we are out.” She grabs Fogel’s arm pulling him out of there as the two watched them. “Later officers...”

“See yeah...”

“A college girl. He’s aiming high” Micheals laughs going to the beer with Slater.

“College?”

“Yeah man. You didn’t seem the college lanyard hanging out of her pocket?”

“No...but did you get the name?”

A few days went by and Y/N sat outside of her class’s building finishing up a note from the previous class when a few whispers caught her attention along with a pair of black boots meeting hers.

“Well. I would ask where you get your boots but I don’t have to now” Y/N smiles looking up at Slater. “Now how did you know where my college is?”

“Officer Micheals has a great eye for detail” Slater points to her lanyard now hanging out of her backpack. Y/N laughs a little smiling.

“Anything I can do for you officer?”

“I uh, wouldn’t mind taking you out on a date”

“Oh?” Y/N smiles closing her notebook and leaning forward. “How about coffee first? See if you actually like me...cuz I really like you”

One coffee later...leading to four dates later...and they can official say they’re dating. Or well. Keep it to themselves.

“Sneaking off somewhere ma’am?” Slater smiles leaning against his cop car as Y/N had just reached the parking lot to her complex.

“No sir, my boyfriend awaits at his place. Or so I thought” Y/N smiles walking over to Slater and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Are you off?”

“You don’t see Micheals with me now do you?” Slater brought her close before kissing her lovingly.

“So, the cop car being here?”

“Mm. That one thing you told me”

“Oh?”

In an empty parking lot, Y/N sat on the hood of the cop car smiling at Slater. He likes to admire for a moment and so does she.

“You gonna keep standing there looking pretty?” Y/N smiles grabbing the sides of his shirt the second he got closer to her.

“I’m admiring the beauty here, love” Slater smiles kissing her lovingly before getting more heated.

Y/N pulls away a bit to get her shirt off and Slater instantly planted his lips on her neck enjoying himself. She ran her hands through his hair smiling more.

“You going to make me feel good baby?”

“Mmm...yes yes I am”

A few moments later...

Y/N gripped onto Slater’s back with her nails and her legs around his hips simply enjoying themselves in the backseat of his cop car. He made sure not to go too hard with his thrusts since her bare back is against the door. But she didn’t care and begged for him to go faster.

“Slate I—“ Y/N moans getting close as Slater kept an arm wrapped around her waist and one pressed against the window while he thrusted.

“I’m almost there” Slater got rougher shaking the car.

“Kiss me, kiss me baby” Y/N begged grabbing his face the second he looked toward her pressing her lips against his.

Slater deepen the kiss the moment he climaxed along with Y/N both moaning into each other’s mouths. He parts from Y/N kissing her cheek and neck before calming down.

“Jesus Christ....”

“Hm?”

“God you’re amazing...” Y/N pants laying back as Slater opens the door behind him knowing no one is out there those late slowly pulling out.

“You’re the amazing one here” Slater took a deep breath saying so, pulling the condom off and tying it off.

Y/N brought herself up taking Slater’s shirt and putting it on before seeing the mark ups.

“Well you truly like to show that I’m taken” Y/N laughs talking about the hickeys on her thighs, neck, and chest.

Slater laughs putting his pants back on before handing her her panties and shorts. “I want everybody to know you’re mine” he smiles sliding back in and kissing her once more. “You wanna head back to yours or mine?”

“Mine, since I’m hanging out with the three stooges tomorrow” Y/N says with a frown knowing she’d reschedule if he had the day off since it was hers off school and work.

“I can sleep over still right?” Slater smiles making Y/N’s returns with a nod. “Your cat isn’t allowed in the bed though”

“Awww come on Tiger bites you that ONE TIME” Y/N laughs kissing him once more.

The next day came around and Y/N sat on the hood of her car waiting for her fools to get out of school. She was a little upset that she had to give Slater his shirt back but she knew she’d seen him tonight so she has all the time to steal it back. But the only clean shirt she got was a tank top and it fully revealed what he left on her besides her jacket covering the few on her shoulders.

“Y/N! Yo” Seth smiles doing a handshake with her as did Evan.

The moment Fogel joined his eyes obviously trailed elsewhere. Y/N caught on but didn’t think it was toward the hickeys.

“Hey” Y/N snaps with a smile. “My eyes are up here Fogel”

“Oh! Yeah sorry sorry”

It didn’t take long for Fogel to find Officer Slater and Micheals that evening since he just checks where they’ve been before. Fogel practically can get into the bar without getting ID’d because they’ve been with him before and not every bar is smart enough to double check.

“McLovin what the fuck are you doing here?” Micheals laughs setting his beer down as Slater looks up from his phone over to the distressed Fogel.

“Dude you good?”

“NO I AM NOT!” Fogel got into the bar stool now having both of their attentions. “So you know Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“We were hanging out earlier right? And she was like...a little revealing”

Keep it cool Slater

“Okay? Aren’t a lot of college girls revealing?”

Micheals you fucking bastard

“ANYWAY—She had all these fucking hickeys and stuff but like I didn’t know she was seeing anybody! I really like her and I don’t know what I’m going to do about it”

“Is there...anything you really can do? She’s seeing somebody” We can’t be subtle for shit.

“I mean you can jump the gun and think she’s...a whore but I know she’s not! She’s too classy for that”

“College does shit dude. You don’t know what she be doing” Micheals laughs again as Slater laughed along even if he wanted to punch his partner. “You should just be straight up with her if you really like the girl”

Y/N stares at Slater after he told her what happened. She couldn’t help it. She started laughing at the fact that Micheals would say that about her and that Fogel likes her. Like it’s cute that he has a crush on her but she thought the obvious disinterest in the three would’ve stirred that away but guess not.

“You take this super well”

“Well Slater, other than you. I’ve only slept with one other guy in my entire life. So the whore comment doesn’t affect me and you two are breaking up A LOT of college parties where some act like whores. You two see it a lot. But like I’m fucking smarter than that. I have a full ride through college, I have a decent job, good friends, and a boyfriend that I love. Yeah I get high sometimes but that’s about it” Y/N’s laughter calmed down as she moved her physics book off her bed along with her notes. She turns back to Slater moving himself to tower her. “Oh? Now what’s this?”

“You love me?” Slater smiles laying on top of her as Y/N brought her arms around him.

“I do, I love you”

“I love you too Y/N” Slater continues to smile getting many kisses from Y/N once he said that.

It didn’t take long for Fogel to find out. Well. It did. But it wasn’t...hard

Fogel one weekend went to Y/N’s school knowing she had a class on Saturday with the confidence to tell her but the second he spotted her, she was in the arms of Officer Slater.

So he did what was best in his mind.

Flip out.

“YOU FUCKING—“

Y/N’s attention immediately darts to the pissed off Fogel as she parts from Slater.

“Fogel—“

“I TOLD YOU THAT I LIKED HER AND YOU IMMEDIATELY SWEEP HER OFF HER FEET TAKING HER FOR YOURSELF”

“Okay I’m not a prized possession—“

“SHUT UP Y/N”

“Woah Fogel. Calm down don’t make a scene—“

“MAKE A SCENE?! YOU’RE A BACKSTABBING ASSHOLE” Fogel tried punching Slater as he has already kept pushing him back before he can even get in a “good punch”. But the more aggressive Fogel tried to be, Slater cant let it slide when he’s in uniform.

“Okay okay. No. This is assault of an officer and you’re under arrest” Slater states knowing this triggered Y/N at first since she didn’t know what was the plan here.

Fogel tried to fight the restraints aka the handcuffs being put on him. Slater immediately bringing him to his cop car as Y/N looked at everyone who watched anxiously before quickly following the two.

“You need to calm down”

“SLATER”

“No. Seriously. You need to calm down” Slater states putting Fogel in the back and taking the drivers not letting Y/N in until this was settled. “If she shows no interest you shouldn’t force it at all. And before you say “that’s what you did” I didn’t. She had every right to rejected me when I asked her out but she didn’t. The two of us got close and we fell in love. It’s not rocket science and I know you care about her. But shouldn’t you care more if she’s happy or not more than if she’s with you or not”

Wow.

Fogel didn’t really think that hard into it. Yeah, he has the reasons for liking her. But he didn’t think of how she’d feel about it. Only wanted to tell her everything. And after hearing what Slater said, he’s happy he’s with her. She’s got someone that loves her and will always put her first.

“Wow...I’m sorry Officer Slater, I didn’t even think about that”

“It’s fine Fogel. You’ll learn one day with the love of your life. I say that as a friend. But as an officer...don’t come throwing punches at me again or you will actually be arrested”

“Yes sir”

“Good” Slater faces forward gesturing Y/N to join the two in where Micheals usually sits. “We worked it out”

“Good. Cuz Fogel, he can’t do it because it’s wrong on so many levels. But I’m not afraid to kick your ass for throwing punches at my boyfriend” Y/N threats through the mesh cage separating the front from the back.

“Sorry”

“It’s okay, now let’s take you home”

#bill hader #bill hader gifs #bill hader x reader #officer slater x reader #officer slater #superbad

227 notes · View notes