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spatialwave · 1 month

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𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞.

"𝐋-𝐈-𝐕-𝐈-𝐍'."

pairing: angus tully x fem!reader word count: 5.1k summary: you made your choice. what will come of the consequences? surely, only good things, right? all you know is one thing you learned from a wise man: you just gotta keep livin'. l-i-v-i-n'. warnings/tags: MDNI. angst, hurt/comfort, underage drinking and drug use, jealousy, love triangle, name-calling, physical fighting/abuse, emetophobia/mention of v*miting. notes: this is long over due! i've been so happy seeing people still liking the series and i hope this ending does it justice. i'm already missing them, and thinking of ways i could do a little spin-off. suggestions are welcome, hehe.

<- chapter four.

Fucking at the Moon Tower was an activity you could cross off your bucket list, a feat that was surprisingly easy to pull off for an area of land running rampant with drunken teens. It seemed as though luck was dealing your cards for the evening and things had all started to move forward smoothly.

The ordeal with Angus was a bittersweet feeling, of course. Being drunk didn’t mean that you completely lost all touch of your morals.

It just meant that the guilt wouldn’t bother you until it was all over, and you were laying in bed hungover, wondering why you couldn’t have mustered the strength to end things off with Benny before you settled on infidelity. Hell, even now you were the other woman, Angus’s promise of ending things with Elise didn’t make this any better.

The only fighting argument you had against your wrongdoings was the fact that neither you nor Benny had made things… ‘official’, but you sure acted like it. That had to account for something, and you knew very well that if he found out, he wouldn’t be happy.

Forcing the rising guilt back down into the pit of your stomach, you focused on the way the grass felt against the exposed skin on your back. Lifting a hand up to toy with your hair that was rather messy now and let your eyes focus up on the stars in the sky, which were mostly hidden by the light of the moon tower that lifted above the treeline. The sound of gentle breathing next to you kept you calm, shuffling in the grass while you saw Angus turning on his side out of your peripheral vision.

“So,” his voice was deep in his throat as he shifted up on his elbow, able to get a better angle of you, “are we going to do that again sometime?”

You had to fight the smile growing on your lips, twitching at the corners and daring to make you smile like a dork. Leave it to Angus Tully to be the one to keep you from getting lost in your head, and instead, in the here and now.

“No,” you were quick to react, lips spreading into that grin you’d been avoiding, “definitely a one time thing.”

“Ouch, you really are feisty,” he groaned, lifting a hand to his heart and clutching at his chest, his button-up no longer doing its job of keeping him covered, “you have a cold, cold heart.”

A laugh bubbled up from your throat, earning a returning smile from the curly-haired boy, “I don’t have a cold heart. I’ll have you know that I am actually a really good person.”

“Good people don’t have to say they’re good people,” Angus tilted his head, an absent hand reaching forward to tuck some hairs behind your ear.

“Looks like you’ve seen right through me,” you whisper, a shaky breath leaving your lips.

The act itself makes a fierce warmth grow on your cheeks, so warm it reaches the tips of your ears and over your chest. There’s nothing more you can say at this moment, only able to react to his touch and slightly nuzzle your cheek against his hand like a needy pet.

You stared into those big, brown eyes of his and wondered how you got so lucky to meet a boy like him – even if it meant leaving your home. He was truly the only good thing about this town.

Maybe this was the start of something new. Something you both deserved.

Your lips opened to speak, but the sound of someone rushing near you both had startled you up and looking around. A younger boy, likely a freshman, darted past you both and towards a large bush, the sounds coming from him making your nose crinkle as he emptied his stomach.

“Christ,” Angus grumbled, pulling away from you instead pulling you up to your feet, “who’s letting these kids drink their fucking brains out.”

Quickly, you both vacated the area until you were halfway between the puking boy and the party that had continued to go well into the night. Neither of you had noticed that your hands were held tight together until Angus had stepped ahead, and your feet remained planted in the taller grass.

“We can’t tell anyone about what we just did,” the words fell from your lips quickly, eyes settled ahead on the crowds of people that you could see in the distance. All illuminated by headlights and the moon tower.

Benny was there somewhere. So was Elise.

Just like the boy hidden somewhere behind you both, you felt sick to your stomach as the regret coursed back through your veins without Angus able to fix it all for you with his touch.

“Why would I tell anyone?” He retorted, dropping your hand and turning to face you, blocking your sight so you were forced to look up at him, “I’m not looking for problems… you’re not going to say anything are you?”

“...No.”

“That’s not very convincing.”

“God, Angus, what do you want me to say? You just cheated on your girlfriend,” you grumbled, the effects of alcohol and weed wearing thin, making this night feel a lot more real than you wanted it to.

This was supposed to be a night where you hoped you didn’t remember much of it, so drunk and high that you could completely let loose and kick off your last summer before senior year. You were more complicated than that, though, you came with nuances and emotions that you didn’t really understand just yet. You had so many wants and needs, and so many fears.

“I told you I was going to break up with her. You’re acting like I’m the only one who fucked up here, you know,” Angus’s voice was sharper, like it was at the moon tower when he chastised your relationship with Benny, “this was mutual.”

“That’s not what I meant–”

“Do you think me sleeping with you tonight was just for fun? Like I’m going to leave you in the dust and forget about what happened tomorrow morning?” He took a step forward as you took a step back, “I meant what I said. I really like you. Don’t make me overthink this.”

“It’s just,” you started, arms crossing over your chest, “fuck, we really should’ve waited, Angus. I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

A heavy sigh came from him, and you could tell he was fed up, but holding back.

“Yeah,” he eventually breathed, “you’re right, I get it. We… uh, really fucked up.”

You could see his mannerisms change, the sheepish look in his eyes when that very guilt you felt extended into him. But you were young and you were certain this wouldn’t be your last fuck up in your life. You’d get through it – eventually.

“I like you too,” you murmured, fingers twisting into the fabric of your halter top, “I guess we just gotta deal with everything if we want this to work.”

Angus nodded, a tiny smile on his lips that made you feel all sorts of funny, your cheeks warm and belly fluttering with waves of butterflies swirling in a vortex. It was making you feel sick all over again, but for good reasons this time.

“You should come with me in the morning,” he said, kicking a foot into the tall grass, “I’m going with Wooderson to buy Aerosmith tickets… It'll be a good time.”

You were complicated. Wanting to say no because you needed time to cut things off with Benny, and because your mother would freak out when your bed was still empty by morning, but instead you nodded your head without any hesitation.

You were just a teen girl, there were no rules on how you acted or felt.

“Yeah, okay,” you smiled, “maybe.”

“Maybe?” The boy matched your wicked grin, taking a few steps back from you and closer to the party, “I’ll see you later, then.”

You watched in awe as Angus spun on his heels and sauntered back to the party, leaving you in a state of uncertainty. There was much to think about, but his request reminded you of something important.

Life was short.

So, why the hell were you standing in the middle of the wooded forest listening to the sound of some poor boy getting sick when you could be back with your friends getting shitfaced and forgetting about everything that happened.

You pulled your feet forward and carried yourself back to the party, everyone now officially drunk or stoned out of their minds, your friends nowhere to be seen. The beer keg was your first stop, drinking one full cup in quick succession and pouring yourself another.

The cool liquid poured down your throat and numbed your mind instantly, fingers tightening around the red solo cup as your empty stomach greeted the alcohol. You closed your eyes and guzzled down the remainder of the second beer, knowing that any more would likely put you in the same predicament after your argument with Angus.

Fingers crinkled the cup, and you tossed it to the ground, perking up and looking at your surroundings. There were an abundance of drunk teens, your eyes watching two girls take a tumble to the ground together and a boy sitting in the backseat of a convertible coughing his lungs out because of a particularly intense bong rip.

“Where the fuck is Kaye?” You sighed under your breath, eyes scanning the area and excusing yourself when two boys asked you to move away from the keg. With your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you begin walking away in hopes to scout around the party for a familiar face.

Just as your eyes nestled on your friend, who was sitting on the back of Tony’s car, you felt someone shove themselves against you roughly – with intention.

“Buzz off,” you groaned, catching your footing before nearly crashing into the ground.

Perking up, your eyes darted over to the other and saw none other than Darla standing there with eyes narrowed and cheeks flush with anger. A few paces behind was Elise, looking just as angry.

“You slut,” Darla hissed, taking taunting steps toward you and her voice loud enough to grab the attention of the two boys taking beer from the keg, “you must like stealing boys, huh? Stealing Benny from me, then trying so hard to get Angus’s attention and acting like you’re nothing but a saint,” her face twisted with fury as she spoke, “stupid bitch.”

You gasped loudly as Darla flung beer at you, the lukewarm liquid splashing against your chest and soaking your halter top.

“I had no idea you and Benny were a thing!” You blurted quickly, always wondering why these things had to happen after you finished downing multiple beers, “and nothing’s happening with Angus… he’s just a friend.”

Both of your hands had lifted in defense, breath shaky as you watched Darla and Elise’s combined anger unfold in front of you. You were hoping that tonight would treat you with more grace than it could have, but karma was doing its work.

Darla’s lips curved into a sickening grin as she threw the red cup at you, as if pouring the beer wasn’t enough. “You think we’re stupid? Like we haven’t seen you flirting with him for the past few weeks? God…” she shook her head, an airy laugh of disbelief coming from her, “and you try to tell me that you had no idea Benny and I were a thing? I get that you’re new here, but you’d have to be really dumb to not know what’s going on around you.”

“Okay,” you said, trying to level with the girl that looked like she could pounce any moment, “maybe I didn’t do my research with others before spending time with Benny, but in my defense he didn’t tell me anything. I just… I figured he was single. You should be getting mad at him!”

“God, stop acting like you’re the victim here!” She laughed against and balled her fists together, and you knew then and there that there was nothing you could do to share your side of things. She was far too angry, and much too drunk, “You’re such a stuck up bitch, like every dumb prissy girl from the West Coast.”

Your eyes flickered over to Elise, who seemed to have some semblance of sobriety at the moment, but doing nothing to make this situation any better for you. When you settled your gaze back on the girl in front of you, you saw the anger boiling beneath the surface. She was starting to talk angry nonsense which you had no bite over.

You either needed to make one quick response to shut her down, or get the hell out of there.

“Darla–”

Before you could plead anymore in a last-ditch attempt to bury the hatchet and keep it from escalating, a flimsy hand met with your nose and pain shot through your head. Darla sucker-punched you, making a fool out of you. As you grabbed at your face, wincing loudly in pain and feeling blood drip down your nose, you heard the other girl yelping from the pain radiating in her hand. “What the fuck?” You roared, eyes wide and anger flowing through you. Not once had anyone ever disrespected you like this, and even though you wanted to lay down in a ball and cry the pain away, there was a rush of adrenaline keeping you afloat.

“Aw, look, she’s angry,” Darla laughed in your face, taking a step back, but you lunged. She wasn’t getting the satisfaction.

The two of you tumbled to the ground and hands began to tug at clothes and hair, shouts and yelps garnering the attention of anyone close. “Holy shit,” you heard Elise’s voice just barely because soon all you could hear were people yelling and cheering you on. Well, both of you. Two girls drunkenly fighting? It made for great party entertainment.

“You stupid bitch!” Darla squealed as you yanked on her hair, tugging her back to the ground after she tried standing up.

“You punched me first, asshole!” You yelled, unable to land any good hits on her and resorting to some lowly slaps and kicks. Finally, you managed to get on top of her, holding her down with her weight as you straddled her and she was doing her best to push you off, “Fuck you,” you spat at her, fist tightened as you punched.

But it never landed.

“Hey, break it up!” Kaye’s voice was loud, quieting down everyone who had been bystanders, watching and cheering.

“Let me at her!” You growled, kicking your legs out as you were pulled back, watching as Elise and Shavonne pulled Darla away. Then, you saw Kaye to your left and realized it wasn’t her pulling you away from the fight; you glance over your shoulder and see Angus staring down at you, dragging you far from the scrap.

“Fuck you!” Darla snapped at you, stumbling on her feet and smoothing down her clothing that had gone askew from your wild hands that savagely attacked her, “You’re dead to us, Tully! Dead. Have that worn-in skank!”

“Easy now,” Shavonne’s voice could be heard.

“Are you okay?” Angus’s voice was loud in your ear and you could smell the beer on his lips he forced you to look his way, “Fuck. You’re going to be bruised tomorrow.”

“C’mon, let’s get her out of here,” Kaye jumped in, helping him pull you away.

Your eyes flickered around, seeing the crowd fizzling out and how Elise looked at you and Angus with a clenched jaw. She extended a middle finger out, and for some reason it sent a wave of relief through your body – was it over now? Would her and Darla finally give up on tormenting you?

Angus and Kaye got you situated onto the back of his car, sitting atop the trunk, your legs dangling as the boy tended to your bloody nose and busted lip. The pain was rising now that the adrenaline was leaving your body, leaving you squirming under his touch as he used his sleeve to wipe the dried blood that coated your upper lip. Not only that, but your soaked halter top was making you terribly uncomfortable.

“I’m fine–”

“Not fine,” Angus cut you off, looking into your eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” you reiterated, looking rather sheepish, “she started it.”

“Yeah, I saw,” he smirked, tucking some of your hair behind your hair, “you gotta’ get better at fighting. That was bad.”

“Easier said than done. Are you going to teach me?”

“Sure.”

The silence between you both is welcomed, and you hadn’t realized that Kaye left. Kegs were emptied dry, which meant everyone had begun to leave and go home or move onto an after party. You two stayed situated in your spot, though, unmoving as the cars around you filled with teens and roared into the night.

“I broke up with her,” Angus admitted, shrugging his shoulders, “I would have rather waited until tomorrow, but that’s not fair to either of you.”

You click your tongue knowingly, rolling your eyes playfully, “So, you’re the reason Darla came and unleashed her anger out on me, huh?”

“No, that’s because she bottles shit down until she’s hammered and she finally had the balls to confront you about it,” he smiled at you, lifting both hands to cup your cheeks, “you took it like a badass, though. I think you look hot.”

“Yeah, I feel so hot–”

You’re cut off by Angus’s lips pressing to yours, a gentle kiss that’s careful of your wounds. You wince in pain, pulling back and lifting a hand to the side of your lip that’s tender and a bit swollen.

“Shit, sorry,” he exhaled, pulling back from you.

“It’s okay,” you laughed, arms wrapping around his neck and instead pulling him into a tight hug, “thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, hands on your back and brushing his fingers along the exposed skin from your revealing halter top.

“For dealing with me,” you murmured, burying your face into his curly hair that clung around his ears, “I’ve been a mess tonight. Honest to god, I’m usually not this insane.”

A laugh bubbled up from his chest, the sound vibrating against your neck as he pressed a few soft kisses to your skin, “hm, it’s okay. I can deal with crazy.”

Both you and Angus found yourself unable to leave each other’s arms for a short while, as if making up for lost time between the two of you. Not even an hour later, and after a good makeout session in the back of his car and changing into one of his oversized band shirts, you found yourself in the middle of the football field, laying between Angus’s legs and your head pressed against his exposed stomach from the shirt that you’d unbuttoned earlier.

To your left was Jason and Shavonne, having made up for the night, and beside them was Slater, who was digging into a baggy of weed and rolling up a few fatties for the group to share.

Wooderson stood tall in front of everyone, reading from the pact that Angus still hadn’t signed.

“Not to indulge in any alcohol, drugs, sex after 12, or any other illegal activity,” he stepped toward everyone, who had started laughing. Angus groaned, sitting upright and reaching out for the paper with a grouchy look on his face, “found that in your glove compartment, man.”

“You know you’re the third person who’s given me this today? God,” he groaned, rolling it up and tucking it into his jean pocket.

“What’re you going to do?” You asked, looking up at him and bringing the cigarette to your lips that you two had been sharing.

“I don’t know,” Angus complained, wiping his face with his hands and looking between everyone, “I’ll probably just end up signing, I just don’t want to give in too easy, y’know?”

“Man,” Wooderson looked at him through half-lidded eyes, taking a hit of his joint and exhaling a large cloud of smoke, “that’s the same bullshit they tried to pull in my day. If it ain’t that piece of paper, some other choice they’re going to try and make for you. You gotta do what Angus Tully wants to do, man.”

You looked up at the curly-haired boy, admiring his features that illuminated from the large flood lights on the football field. You noticed the way he listened earnestly to Wooderson, who wasn’t known for great advice, but so far this was sound.

As he watched the older guy, his hand played absently with your hair, leaving you far-too relaxed and tired for someone who was planning on heading out to get tickets once the sun was fully risen above the horizon. There wasn’t much longer before it would be up.

“And let me tell you this. The older you do get, the more rules they’re gonna try to get you to follow. You just gotta keep livin’ man. L-I-V-I-N’.” He beamed, earning a few giggles from everyone around as he collapsed onto the ground next to Slater.

“If you’re gonna sign that paper, man, you should throw a little grass right in the middle, man. Roll it up, and sign the joint, man. That’s gonna tell ‘em something.” Slater spoke, eyes practically shut as his reddened eyes looked around at everyone sharing laughs at his words.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, Slate?” You piped up, grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah, man. The size you could get out of that paper would keep me high all day, man.”

“So what?” Jason broke into the conversation, head in Shavonne’s lap and eyes closed, “you gotta think about it. We’ve had a lot of really good times here, Tully.”

You sink a bit lower, able to tilt your head back and get a proper look at the boy you’d fallen in love with so deeply, smiling, “He’s not wrong. I mean, you’re, like, king of the school, you know? You get away with whatever you want, anyway.”

Angus let out a heavy exhale through his nostrils, leaning his head back as he slipped out from beneath you and rose to his feet. You pushed yourself up, eyes trailing him as you smoked the last of the cigarette and held the filter between your fingers.

“All I’m sayin’ is that if I ever start referring to these as the best years of my life, remind me to kill myself,” he grunted, car keys in one hand and ready to toss away that slip back into his glove compartment so he could forget about it.

Jason sighed, “Look, Tully, all I’m sayin’ is that I wanna look back and say, that I did it the best I could while I was stuck in this place, had as much fun as I could when I was stuck in this place,” he continued and you watched Angus, seeing how he paused in his steps and listened, back turned from everyone, “played as hard I could when I was stuck in this place, dogged as many chicks as I could when I was stuck in this place.”

Everyone laughed again, Shavonne mostly groaning as she shoved at Jason, “Yeah, right, Mr. Premature Ejaculation.”

As the couple to your left playfully fought each other, and Slater and Wooderson laughed at them, your eyes settled on Angus. He returned your gaze, staring at you with a small smile. A hand lifted and motioned for you to go to him, and you obediently listened, rising to your feet and sauntering his way.

“Do what you need to do, Tully,” you said to him, in a perfect buzzed state from the cigarette and joint you’d smoked. You lifted your hands, palms pressing against his chest and his hands wrapping around you loosely, “Don’t let anyone make that decision for you.”

Angus smiled down at you, needing to hear that. After a day of being told what to do by everyone, it was nice to know that you would have his back.

“Thanks,” he murmured, lowering his head to press a kiss to your lips. It was gentle, exactly what you needed. His hands lifted up to caress the sides of your neck, licking over your bottom lip and eager to make it heavier than it needed to be in front of your friends – you were already walking around with two visibly hickies on your neck from your rendezvous in the car before coming to the football field.

Just as you pulled from him, noses bumping together, bright, shining headlights startled everyone.

“Oh, shit, are those the cops?” Shavonne perked up.

“Hey, all of you! Get over here!” One of the cops called as he exited the car and slammed the door, waving you down, “Now!”

The group all listened, rather slowly of course. It wasn’t illegal to be on the football field, but it was illegal to be smoking weed. Slater sneakily tucked the bag into his pants, sulking behind everyone else who made their way to the fence.

It was embarrassing, the cops making you all line up like a bunch of criminals. Your back pressed against the chain link fence, wanting nothing more than to be at home in the comfort of your bed, preferably with Angus by your side. But no, the cops recognized Jason and Angus immediately and called the coach – and no one was to leave, even as the sun began to rise over the horizon.

“Tully. Smith.” The coach grumbled from his spot in the driver’s seat, having pulled up in his Jeep and staring you all down like he actually had some semblance of authority. It was laughable, especially to Angus, “Get your scrawny butts over here!”

“Morning, Coach,” Jason smiled, hands in his pockets as Angus lagged behind.

You and Shavonne, on the other hand, stood back and shared quiet laughs at the situation. It’s not like you could help it, when your body was minutes away from crashing into the deepest sleep of your life, it was hard not to find every little thing at least kind of hilarious.

“What’s going on?” He berated the two football players like an angry father.

“False alarm, Coach.” Angus said nonchalantly and you could tell that he was over the conversation already. All he wanted was to get to the city to buy Aerosmith tickets.

“Come here, Tully.” The coach beckoned and you couldn’t quite hear over the conversation, but the angry look on Angus’s face told everything you needed to know about what was happening.

“How can you talk that way, huh?” Angus’s voice was loud as he took a step back from the vehicle, looking over his shoulder and at you for a brief moment before turning back around, “You don’t know any of them, what do you know about bad fucking influences? You think I’m some perfect angel?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m willing to wipe the slate clean if you straighten up, stop hanging out with these hoodlums and sign the goddamn commitment.”

“Hoodlums?” You and Slater said together, both looking at Angus and the coach with half-lidded, red eyes.

Angus rubbed a hand over his mouth, letting out a breathy chuckle, “You know what coach,” he started, looking back at you again, a smile on his lips, “I gotta get going. Me and my loser friends, and girlfriend… Well, we’re gonna go get Aerosmith tickets. Can’t be fucking late. Top priority of the summer.”

It was a subtle mention, but the title of ‘girlfriend’ made your stomach swirl in all sorts of ways and you could see Shavonne’s devilish smirk in your peripheral vision.

Angus began making his way back over to you, but then he spun on his feet, looking back to Jason and coach, “Oh, coach,” he said, digging into his pocket and retracing his steps back to the Jeep, “I forgot,” he cleared his throat, crumpling the paper, “I might play ball, but I will never sign that.”

The taller boy tossed the paper right into his vehicle, jaw clenching and staring daggers at him before turning back around and heading your way, huffing as he let his anger dissipate and the coach sped away.

“Shit, man, that’s livin’!” Wooderson grinned, giving Angus’s hand a smack, “Now come on, I’m getting my third wind. Let’s get on the road.”

“You comin’ man?” Slater spoke up, looking at Angus, then to you, “You’re definitely coming.”

“Oh, I am?” You snorted, shoving Slater playfully as you walked next to Angus, your hand slipping into his almost perfectly, “What about you guys?” You shot a look over to Shavonne and Jason, the latter looking like he’s going to collapse any minute.

“No, I’m tired,” he mumbled, hardly able to open both eyes as Angus tossed his keys to Shavonne. The blond looked at Angus, smacking his lips a few times, “So, that’s that, huh?

Angus shrugged his shoulders, looking at his friend and giving him a couple pats on the shoulder, “I’ll see you later, man,” he told him, nodding and watching as Shavonne began dragging him over to Angus’s car.

You and Slater settled into the backseat of Wooderson’s car, passing a joint back and forth as wind rushed through the open windows and left your hair blowing wildly around. Angus would look back at you every so often, checking on you and shooting that charismatic smile of his as music blared loudly through the radio – Slow Ride by Foghat.

You know, things may not have gone the way you wanted them to go, but hell, it was better than a shitty night stuck at home. Your lip was busted, nose still throbbing, and you didn’t really have an answer to what was going on with you and Benny and it wracked you with guilt.

But you’re only seventeen, you’re meant to make fucking mistakes, lots of them – to learn from them. That’s the fun of life because if you hadn’t fucked up as much as you did, you wouldn’t have been with your favourite people, riding off to the city with the smell of weed and summer break tickling your nose.

Angus’s eyes met your own once again, those stupid, big brown eyes. You passed the joint over, grinning like a fool as he winked at you.

There was nothing but the morning sun rising in the sky, great music and even better friends – and you knew summer was going to be full of everything you needed.

#angus tully #the holdovers #angus tully x reader #the holdovers fic #angus tully fic #dominic sessa #dominic sessa fic #angus tully x you #dazed and confused fic #dazed and confused x reader #wordsbyspatial

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naomi-nana · 2 years

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🍓 :: double surprises (f!reader)

"Chuuuuyaaaaaaaa~~~~" a voice was heard from inside the mafia, nakahara chuuya's office. Chuuya look up to the girl infront of him, she looked happy as she was hiding something behind her that seemed like a box, a big one at that.

"What do you want, y/n? And no, stop telling me to play dress up with you and elise." He answered, the girl looks at him with shocked face and disbelief.

"I can't believe you just said that to me! Besides, i'm not here to force you to play dress up with me and elise. I'm here to show you something!" Said the girl grinning, chuuya looks at her with a straight face.

"There's no need to tell me that, it's already obvious from the box you're holding behind your back." He answered, pointing his finger towards the box.

"Tch, and here i thought you weren't going to find out about it."

"The box is clearly big enough to be seen you idiot, even dazai wouldn't be able to hide it with his body."

"ANYWAYSSS..who cares if you can see the box? The surprise is inside the box and not the box itself! So i shouldn't be worrying about it too much!" The girl said with the biggest smile on her face.

"Okay fine, what's inside of the box anyways?" Chuuya asked while standing up from his chair, walking towards the girl.

"Hehe, open up!" Said the girl hiding her hand behind her back. Chuuya looks at her with a suspicious look but opens the box anyways. When he opens the box, all he saw is a paper.

"..what the hell is this? Are you pranking me?"

"NO! Why would i prank my beloved-sugar-boo(/joke) anyways🥺"

"Stop using that fucking pet name y/n."

"Okay okay fine, just—come with me." She said as she drag chuuya out of the office.

"Hey—where the hell are you dragging me to?!"

"Just shut up and you will know about it!~" Y/n said as she looks back at him.

-timeskip-

"What..why the hell would you bring me to a pet shop?" Chuuya looks at her with a look of disbelief.

"Oh come on, you bring the paper, right?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Exactly, now give it to me!" Y/n snatches the paper from Chuuya's hand and goes inside the pet shop while holding his hand. If you asked Chuuya how he feels about this, he can't help but feels kinda..warm? Maybe, and a little embarrassed.

"Saying 'exactly' does not help you with explaining stuff, Y/n."

As Y/n do her thing, Chuuya sits on one of the chair inside the pet shop and stared at her. Oh what a beauty she is, her hair, her eyes, her face, her personality..everything is perfect about her. Chuuya feels like he didn't deserve such a beauty like her.

Chuuya looks at his pocket and pulls out something from his pocket that looked like a ring, he thought to himself, '..is this the right time for me to give it to her? I mean, i have to be fast. Otherwise other guys would snatch her away from me. Alright, this is the right time i guess, i just need to wait for her to finish.'

Y/n walked to Chuuya and showed him something, a..pet—puppy, actually. "TADAAA!! Hehe, do you like it, chuu? This was actually supposed to be your birthday present but i was really busy with my stuff so i wasn't able to give it to you in time. I've already planned this for long enough though. Boss just gives us too many work T^T"

Chuuya looks at her with wide eyes, so this is what she is been hiding from him? A puppy? ".....I like it, love. No, i loved it. I really do." He said as he takes the puppy to his arms, smiling.

"Hehee, glad you liked it! What do you want to name him??" Y/n looks at him with excited face, ahh chuuya can't take it anymore. She is so cute.

"Let's name him shino, i guess." He said looking at the puppy.

"Ooh! I liked the sound of Shino! It's really cuteee"

"Yeah..oh, right. I have..other stuff, to show you. But not here, let's go to the park nearby." Chuuya said, Y/n was a little bit surprised by the change of tone in his voice, one minute was he being soft because of a puppy, and now he sounds really serious.

"Oh, okay, sure.."

-at the park-

Y/n put the puppy at the pet shop for a while because she thought this is serious stuff and she can't get innocent animals gets involved in this. Especially because she payed for that animal, it's really expensive too.

"So..what do you want to talk about chuuya? Is it about dazai? Missions? Or your subordinates?" Y/n looks at him with curiosity, and a little-bit of seriousness too. Yes, a little bit.

"Um, okay so uhh..we've been dating for a while..no, actually, for 4 years and i feel really happy when i'm around you. Like—i feel warm and i feel safe. You are my home, y/n. I always feel sad whenever i see you sad, because of your insecurity, because of your ability, because of your problems, because of your family and lots of stuff..but i just wanted to let you know that i'm here for you, and i always are just like how you are always here to me. You always helped me, you cooked for me, you always gives me the courage to continue on in life and i love that about you. And i wanted to also do the same for you, i hope you feel warm and safe when around me too. I hope you feel the same feelings as i did, and..i wanted to take our relationship further more. I love you with all my heart, So.." Chuuya takes out the ring from his pocket and handed it out to Y/n, "will you, Y/n L/n, marry me and become with me for the rest of my life?"

Y/n looks at chuuya with a teary eyes, hearing the whole stuff chuuya said has made her feel appreciated. Lots of stuff happens to her yet anyone who has talked to her never said all those stuff to her, chuuya made her realize that there are still people who cares about her. Y/n starts to burst into tears when she thinks more of it.

"Chuuya, i love you too. And—yes..i accept."

hello, author here! i apologize if anyone has already made the same exact fanfic before me. i probably do not know of it. if you've made the same exact fanfic as mine, please dm me if you want me to take it down.

#chuuya fluff #bsd chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd fanfic #bsd #bungou stray dogs #nao.writes

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nacricissa · 3 months

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Rating OC headcanons tag

Thanks @rhikasa for the open tag!

Rules: Use this headcanon generator to generate some headcanons for your OCs! How accurate are they?

No-Pressure Tags: @macabremoons, @squarebracket-trickster, @steh-lar-uh-nuhs, and an open tag!

Elise

Elise needs a nightlight to sleep: 8.5/10, she probably needs something comforting to sleep, and at a certain point she starts needing external magical help so she doesn't warp the world too much with her dreams. If the nightlight is a spellform to help with this that would probably count, so I'll bump up from my original 6.

Elise uses the word "like" like a comma: 10/10, she loves emphasizing her "temporal accent" and uses as many 2010s colloquialisms as possible.

Elise can hug you, but won't: 3/10, she is physically capable of hugging, and doesn't tend to initiate hugs, but that's mostly due to fear or rejection. If you want a hug she will hug you, and gives hugs freely to her brothers.

Eric

Eric is not good with social cues: 7/10, I am autistic so most of my characters are too. However, I have some conflicting characterization of him as sort of oblivious (read, sheltered aristocrat knows too little of the world) early in the story, and an excellent group dynamics man later. As such, I'm going to say he's not great at social cues but over time learns to observe them with stunning ability given his lack of natural talent, from which he is then able to manage interpersonal conflict very well.

Eric cannot drive: 4/10, well, given he was born several decades before the invention of the car, and then gained the ability to teleport he probably hasn't driven much, but I'm not going to go so far as to say he can't, especially since Elise has taken pains to make sure she can drive (She was only ONE YEAR out from driver's school when she got kidnapped by the universe. Not fair at all)

Eric's favourite colour is pink: 2/10, seems unlikely, somehow, only because I cannot see him having a favourite colour at all. He would likely prefer warm colours to cool colours, and bright colours to muted colours, so he probably has little against pink, but it's not his favourite.

Davriel

Davriel has punched a hole in their wall: 6/10, Davriel is not a particularly expressive guy, most of his anger tends to well inside him rather than venting out. He also tends to use magic before his fists. However, he may well have done it just as an experience, to see what it's like, because the whole "destruction of property" thing is of little import to him, and would not provide a barrier. Certainly if true it would only be after hooking up with God, he's much more liberated at that point.

Davriel is very willing to eat inedible things: 9.9/10 on a technicality, since really nothing is inedible to him and Elise, they can convert any substance to energy if desired. For that reason he is very willing to eat things that are "inedible" if he needs the calories, and also he would also be willing to eat a whole host of strange things if prompted, so it would be 10/10 if inedible things existed.

Davriel is not good with social cues: 10/10 as I said earlier my autism does tend to seep into my characters, and this guy was even more sheltered than Eric was, so by virtue of low exposure to humans he's not great with them.

Sorceress

Sorceress is afraid to close their eyes in the shower: 2/10, this is interesting. I am unsure if sorceress has ever had a shower. She also used to be a siren, so it wouldn't be a fear of water thing, nor does she tend towards fear in general. There might be something in there with past life triggers and dysphoria, but I somehow doubt it. The only fear would be that Elise was pranking her tbh.

Sorceress makes your mom jokes: 0/10, the only way Sorceress would know your mom jokes would be through Elise, either from her inherent knowledge of the language of magic, in which non-literal statements are generally a bad idea, or personal contact. Sorceress is not a huge fan of Elise, and certainly wouldn't want her mannerisms rubbing off on her, so I doubt she would ever use them.

Sorceress forgets to eat sometimes: 10/10, this woman is a scientist. There is no way she hasn't used the mastery over using the bridge to heal her body to recover her nutritional reserves. She probably thinks eating is a waste of time, unless it's a new food.

#tag games #oc headcanons #elise godslayer #eric melior #davriel godslayer #sorceress #forever project #on writing #nacricontent

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herehavesomeheadcanons · 2 years

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On the 7th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… 7 Winter Sports! (Part 2!)

Rock Lee

💚🥋Lee does not discriminate. He loves all winter sports! He's not the greatest at ice skating, but he still tries his best and has fun!

💚🥋He's a bit of a daredevil with sledding. He likes to race Naruto! Sometimes everything is fine, and other times somebody is getting a lecture from Sakura!

💚🥋He goes all out with snowball fights, and I mean all out! No matter how many times you tell him it's just a game, he ends up going toe to toe with Naruto and exhausting himself. It's a bit of a problem.

Rene Simm

🖤♦️Why would you want to go outside in the cold? Isn't it so much better to stay inside by the fire? Rene really doesn't get the point of winter sports, and he will do his best to convince you to stay inside (he's just worried you'll catch a cold).

🖤♦️With enough pestering, he might go sledding with you. He insists on sitting in the front. No, it's NOT just because he wants you to hold onto him. Humans are just incredibly fragile and he doesn't want you to break bones!

🖤♦️Start a snowball fight between him and Lacus. It'll be fun!

Urd Geales

💡Ice skating all the way! Urd is a sophisticated vampire, so the elegance of ice skating intrigues him!

💡Not to worry, he'll teach you if you don't know how. He's an excellent teacher!

💡Urd is a fantastic ice skater. He could probably go to the olympics if he wanted to!

Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

🖤‼️He's way too competitive, but at the same time he's way too overprotective of you. He's so worried that you might get hurt!

🖤‼️He won't let you do much in a snowball fight. He'll sit you in a snow bunker and tell you to stay put. If someone manages to hit you, he'll tear after them and bring them to the bring of death with ice-laced snowballs.

🖤‼️Ice skating is a no-go. It's far too dangerous. Sledding is ok… so long as it's on a safe hill and he's in front.

Mepphy

💖😈Yes to all, though he'd much prefer to watch other people play than play himself.

💖😈I'm sure you could convince him to go sledding or ice skating with you. He'll probably enjoy himself.

💖😈As for snowball fights, he'd much rather sit in his floating chair and watch Rin and Bon go at it. He'll insist that you sit on his lap!

Ogai Mori

🖤🩺Mori is the king of organizing fun get togethers for the Port Mafia. So, of course he wants to do some winter sports with you!

🖤🩺He's not the greatest at ice skating, but it's definitely amusing to watch! Elise likes to glide gracefully around him and laugh at him when he falls!

🖤🩺His attempt to organize a free-for-all snowball fight with the PM was an utter disaster, but that doesn't stop him from organizing a sledding trip next! Chuuya insists on racing everyone (and winning), and Akutagawa ends up face first in the snow.

SleepyAsh

🖤🐱Absolutely not, you will have to drag him. He wants nothing to do with snow or sports. He'd much rather stay inside where it's warm.

🖤🐱You and Mahiru probably drag him sledding. He complains the whole time.

🖤🐱Mahiru got a three person sled so everyone can sled together! Poor Kuro nearly has a heart attack the first few times you zip down the hill (he's seated in the middle, the safest place).

🖤🐱He makes you drag him up the hill in the sled because he doesn't want to walk.

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colderdrafts · 10 months

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Hello!

I was working today and a random thought crossed my mind. I was wondering how Dren, Morgan, Amren, and Irwen would react to the reader getting sick.

Just curious about how they would react, nothing more! I do enjoy your writing, keep up the good work!

Obligatory sick question! Right in time for flu season. Hope y'all staying healthy and have plenty of warm drinks, it's cold af where I'm at rn.

Dren: He's taken care of someone sick before, but not a human. He knows what to do, but he'll be worried your differences will make his way not useful. Will get a little more clingy than usual as a result. So he can keep an eye on you. He'll keep you warm, make sure you rest and will bring you food if you can't make any on your own. If you're in a really bad way, he may go through his collection on plant-litterature for anything useful, gauging if anything he'd usually use would be poisonous to you.

Morgan: Likes you have to rely more on them, and not afraid to tease you with it. Also knows exactly what to do. They have a mental collection of herbs that can help, and can quickly go grab you stuff like warm soup etc. Don't ask how they got it. Will build you a safe, hidden spot to rest in and will only leave your side to get something you need. Their energy will do wonders for you, and they will help you sleep it off whether you like it or not.

Amren: Not very used to taking care of anyone like that, but he'll try his best. Mostly, he'll just try to provide you what he likes if he's sick, unless you ask for something else. Will cook for you. If it's really bad, he may think to swallow his pride and call Elise for advice. Let him coil around you, his naturally cool body will feel great if you're burning up with a fever. He'll be insistant you rest as much as possible and will have an odd need to guard your house lmao

Irwin: Excellent at managing sick-days. Will swing by with warm soup, ibuprofen, tissues, a snack, tea, honey, etc etc. He's been there. He'll lovingly tease you with it, awe lil buddy got sick :(, and laugh when you tell him to piss off. He'll want to curl up on the couch with you and watch something to pass the time until you get better. (And then probably get sick himself).

#Colderwriting #Thanks for the question 💙#about amren #About Irwin #About dren #About Morgan #UV #Tga #monster x reader

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snoople-boop · 2 months

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Fandom Oneshots: Stuck In A Castle? Stick With Me (Sonelise)

"Sonic" Elise said as he looked at her "what's it like going on adventures?" "Heh, it's pretty cool" Sonic said with his usual smile. "I get to run across different worlds, fight a bunch of bad guys, save the day, the usual stuff."

"That sounds amazing!... I do wish there were times I wasn't stuck here" Sonic chuckled and looked at Elise, his smile turning a bit more empathetic. "Yeah, I can imagine it can get pretty lonely stuck here all the time. It must be a bit boring sometimes, huh?" "What are your adventures like?" Sonic leaned back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, contemplating for a moment. "Well, they're usually pretty crazy. Sometimes, there's robots trying to take over the world, other times there's evil magic, or I run into some giant monster trying to destroy everything. It's never really boring, that's for sure." "Let's see..." Sonic started to count on his fingers, listing off the various things he's done. "There's robots, chaos monsters, evil wizards, mad scientists, aliens on a regular basis... oh, and I guess there were a couple of god-beings that I fought too."

"YOU FOUGHT GODS!" Sonic chuckled at Elise's surprised reaction. "Yeah, I did. They didn't really give me much of a choice in the matter. They just kind of showed up and started destroying things. It was a hassle, that's for sure" "that sounds really cool... I wish I did cool stuff like you"

Sonic looked at Elise with a warm smile. "Hey, that's not true. You do cool stuff all the time! You're a princess, you've got magic, and you saved the world once too, remember?" "Yeah you're right" Sonic chuckled again and gave Elise a playful nudge. "Of course I'm right. Besides, sometimes I wonder if your job is harder than mine. Sitting around a castle all day doesn't sound too exciting."

"It's not! sometimes it's kind of boring" "thought so" Sonic smirked and leaned back again, putting his hands behind his head. "Don't get me wrong, being a hero is pretty cool and all, but having to save the world all the time can get a bit tiring. Sounds like you have your fair share of boredom too though, huh?" "It could be worse" Sonic said "Eggman could've taken over Soleanna and raised the rent"

*****

The Eggman Enterprise was flying through Soleanna then Eggman turned on a speaker "I'm going to- I'm going to destroy all of Soleanna! I'm destroying it. And it'll be nothing- It- It- like- you know what? Actually, I'm going to do something worse! I'm going to become the landlord of Soleanna! Like a real villain!"

Everyone started to panic as Eggman started to laugh "for my first act. Rent is going up a diabolical five percent!!" Then Eggman started to laugh more

"Oh, we were gonna put it up by ten" Elise said as her maids and secretary slowly looked at her like she lost her mind "Wh- what the fuck?! Oh my god! That shits "evil" evil" it echoed everywhere "I take everything back, you look ugly as hell. Your hair looks like dried KFC, I'm leaving" then Eggman left Soleanna

****

Sonic chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "Yeah, that whole incident was a real headache. I mean, can you imagine Eggman trying to be a landlord? He's too much of a troublemaker, he would've messed up the whole city with his evil taxes and fees". The thought suddenly made them both start laughing harder. "Oh man, just imagining Egghead in a suit, handing out eviction notices and raising everyone's rent, it's hilarious," Sonic managed to say between laughs. "And can you imagine him trying to collect rent? Like, he'd probably start sending out his Badniks to chase after people who don't pay up on time," Elise added, still laughing

The laughter eventually died down, and Sonic took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "Okay, okay, we need to reign it in a bit before we burst a lung. That was pretty funny, though." Elise nodded, wiping away tears from laughing so hard. "Yeah, I don't think I've laughed that hard in a long time. Thanks, Sonic. You always know how to cheer me up."

"You know, you can come on one of my adventures if you want to?" Sonic said, Elise looked surprised for a moment, then a smile slowly crept across her face. "Wait, really? You'd take me on one of your adventures? I don't know... are you sure I won't be a burden or anything?" Sonic chuckled and shook his head. "Of course you won't be a burden. I mean, sure, you may not be as fast or as strong as me, but you have your own skills and talents. And honestly, sometimes it gets a bit lonely adventuring by myself. It'd be nice to have some company for a change." Elise considered Sonic's words for a moment, her expression turning thoughtful. "I guess that does sound kind of fun... but what about my duties as princess? I can't just up and leave whenever I want, you know" Sonic shrugged nonchalantly. "Hey, from what I've seen, you're pretty good at delegating stuff to your maids and advisors. I'm sure they can handle a few tasks while you're gone for a bit. Besides, I'm sure your kingdom can survive without its princess for a little while, right?"

Elise let out a small sigh, realizing that Sonic had a point. "Well, I suppose they could handle things while I'm gone... and it has been a while since I got away from the castle for a bit. But what about you? Are you sure you wouldn't mind having me tagging along?" Sonic grinned at her. "Are you kidding? I'd be thrilled to have you tagging along. We can have all kinds of adventures together, fighting bad guys, exploring new worlds, and who knows what else. It'll be great!" Elise couldn't help but match Sonic's grin with a smile of her own. "Well, I guess it does sound kind of exciting when you put it that way... and I have always wanted to see what your adventures are like. Okay, I'm in. When do we start?" Sonic's smile widened at her answer. "That's the spirit! As for when we start, how about tomorrow? I could come by in the morning and we'll head off on our adventure. Sound good?" Elise nodded, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation building up inside her. "Yeah, that sounds perfect. I'll clear my schedule and make sure everything is taken care of here. You can expect me to be ready to go by tomorrow morning."

Sonic gave her a kiss and hopped off the balcony "see ya princess", Elise felt her heart skip a bit as Sonic kissed her and hopped off the balcony. She leaned against the Railing and watched as he ran off into the distance. "See you tomorrow," she called out, a small smile playing on her lips. "Be safe out there, okay?" Sonic then gave her a thumbs up and boosted off

#sonelise #sonic fanfiction

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true-blue-sonic · 10 months

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I recall you mentioning a Time God AU involving Silver before that you've been working on? If it's not gonna be trouble, could I ask to learn more about it? 👉👈

Sure thing! ^-^

So, the ideas I have right now aren't a hundred percent solid, so to say. But Silver is a Guardian of Time/some kind of godly-ish spirit or being, who is tasked with protecting the Time Stones. This is the Silver from '06, who got erased from time when Sonic and Elise blew out Solaris' flame: whatever deities are out there in the world of Sonic took pity on him and allowed him a new life as a protector of the time stream. This does mean that he's very far removed from actual living people and kind of has a very big important duty he must do (protect the time stream from shenanigans and protect the Time Stones), but Silver is naturally curious and thus seeks out society all the same. He meets with Espio when Espio is mere seconds away from dying through getting ran over by a car, and he uses his godly powers to intervene and allow Espio to safely get away. However, somehow the Time Stones scatter (I don't have an idea yet why, though. I do really need something, but I just don't know why they would disappear, and considering the whole plot hinges on this it's a bit of an issue😅), which means Silver needs to go look for them with Espio's help. Once Espio has accepted that the time guardian is real and not just a hallucination from the what-was-meant-to-be last moments of his life, he takes Silver with him to the Agency, and from there onwards I'm not sure yet what they can do other than search for the time stones together. And of course fall in love, hehe.

Also you can have the draft of the whole first chapter, since that is basically finished :> I hope you like it! ^-^

~~~~

Espio woke up without knowing his life was meant to end that day.

That was something most people did not know when waking up, he would have reasoned when looking back ages later, but that morning he got out of bed like he always did and went through the motions as usual. “What do we have for upcoming jobs?” he inquired at the kitchen table like every other day as well, and the shrug from Vector was nothing out of the ordinary either.

“One case of a missing person, but that seems more like a runaway little child than anything else. And some sleuthing for a transport company in the harbour, to see if another is reliable. That’s it.”

“Better than usual,” the chameleon smiled, helping Charmy fill up a bowl of cereal while the little bee was chanting something along the lines of marshmallows. “How will we divide the tasks?”

“I’ll take Charmy to find that kid, they’ll hit it off immediately. Harbour for you, then?”

“That works for me,” the chameleon agreed, and breakfast had gone by just the same as it usually did. With no odd feelings or worries at all Espio left the Agency, something akin to a little smile on his face as he briskly stepped his way over to the dock at the ocean. The spring weather warmed the world around him, they finally appeared to have some decent jobs, Eggman was behaving – for however long that would last – and the world was filled with happy chatter and cheerfulness; what did he have to fear?

To such calm future prospectives his thoughts drifted as he investigated the company at the harbour, meeting with their client and helping make sense of legal documents and past descriptions of others who had worked with the same people. “A good day,” he spoke out loud at the end of it, permitting himself a few moments to bask in the light of the setting sun and nodding contently at the orange glow shimmering on the waves of the ocean. With an envelope of money in his possession and a grateful client assuring him they were more than willing to ask the Chaotix for their services again, he could only be happy.

Except something nagging sparked up in his chest, something that made him blink amidst the idyllic scenery.

And as soon as it had appeared, it was gone again.

Strange, Espio noted to himself, scrutinising the whole harbour for any danger and finding none. His ninja senses were honed sharply and his intuition had never failed him before… but there truly did not seem to be something here to cause him trouble. “An omen of things to come?” the chameleon mumbled under his breath, turning around briskly and stepping home even more quickly than he had been on his way this morning. If something were to occur, he wanted to be with his colleagues for it.

The worries the odd nagging had elicited refused to leave his mind, Espio flicking his tail as he mingled inbetween the people making their way home after a long day of work. Curling his lip the chameleon sidestepped around them all, ignoring the busyness as best he could; having so many people around was far too stifling, his eyes flickering around to find a way that did not trap him right into a short burst of rush traffic. Across the street stood a bench, that part of the roads much less crowded…

Nimbly flicking his way around some of the people taking up too much of his personal space Espio came to a halt at the traffic light, ramming his pinkie into the button. Almost immediately his light became green; a perk of being a pedestrian, he smiled to himself as he stepped onto the road while first looking left before his gaze drifted right… and he could not even react to the car that was rushing at him at a speed that would make Sonic jealous.

And then, time froze around him.

Espio stared, yet nothing moved. He blinked, yet the way a frightened man reached out to him on the sidewalk was just as motionless as the scream on another person’s lips.

And someone was behind him on the road, someone who floated above it in a silver-hued light with seven glowing rocks circling its body while looking surprisingly calm compared to the horror of the people on the streets.

“You have to move,” the creature spoke. “The Time Stones can only do so much- it won’t be like this for much longer, and you’ll get hurt. Move.”

“…Oh! Apologies.” And with that Espio finally managed to kick his legs into movement and scamper over onto the sidewalk, and with a blink of an eye his surroundings came alive once more, the chameleon grunting at the gust of wind tugging at his body from the car racing past without stopping or the cries of fright around him.

“Hey- you! Boy! Are you okay?!” The man who had reached out to him raced over, Espio flinching as he was snapped out of his stupor. “That… that driver nearly hit you!”

“…Yes,” the chameleon retorted. “Yes, they… they did.”

Only able to stare bleakly at the road he merely hummed at the man’s fussing, other people beginning to mingle in as well- but he could only stare at where his life surely had almost come to an end.

He could have sworn something shimmering and glowing hovering over it.

“Are you sure you should not go to the hospital-“

“I am fine,” Espio spoke up unexpectedly calmly, turning around and nodding his head at the man. “Truly. Thank you for your concern, and my apologies for worrying you.”

“Yes, but you-“

“Merely had to take some moments to stop reeling.” Nodding at everyone crowding around him the chameleon took a quick step back, scales prickling at their fussing. “Which I have now, so I must continue on my way. Be careful out there.”

Keeping his movements calm and deliberate Espio kept his face as neutral as possible, the people around him trading nervous glances still- but inwardly he kept his fingers crossed the calm of his words would convince them, and his shoulders sagged just barely as the group eventually let up. “You should be happy with such quick reflexes, they really saved your life. It was as if you’re teleported, you came to the sidewalk so quickly,” the man eventually spoke. “Well, take care out there yourself. I am glad you’re okay.”

“Yes… I am grateful, too. I will.” Though, the question kept burning on his mind… “Pardon, but did you… see someone behind me, when the car nearly struck?” he asked the man more quietly.

“Someone- no, it was just you, luckily.”

“Odd. I could have sworn- well, nevermind. Surely that was simply the stress.” Nodding politely at the confusedly-frowning man Espio quickly turned around in full to make his escape- that had been much, much too close, and that one second of frozen time and odd people telling him odd things had just been an imagination of his mind while he’d long made it to the sidewalk already and was simply reeling from the stress, nothing more.

It couldn’t be anything more.

Right?

A sudden wave of anxiety barrelling into him Espio tensed, gaze drifting over to that one spot where his life nearly ended before he could help it. The road looked just like it usually did on any other spot in the city, grey with white paint drawn over it and the occasional car or cyclist coming past; absolutely nothing that pointed towards the accident that had nearly occurred.

And yet, and yet…

Espio could have sworn something in that particular spot was glimmering still. Not the same glow of silver as the odd person had had around them, but…

Peeking around to see if anyone who had concerned themselves with him was around still Espio set a few more paces until the coast was clear, the streets having gone quiet anew after the small rush of people. The button for the pedestrian’s crossing was pressed quickly enough, its ticking noise changing to indicate he had green light, and a tentative pace onto the grey road followed suit…

And Espio’s eyes widened at the glowing object that laid on the pavement, a rock that had the exact same shape as those that had floated around the creature.

And he was still standing right on the streets.

Reaching down and grasping the rock from the asphalt Espio darted over to the side he came from again, the ticking noise of the traffic light slowing down anew as he leaned as closely against the buildings as he dared. Almost bashfully he studied the rock; it was shaped along the lines of a hexagon with two parallel lines elongated, with a front and six sides moving down. Not a Chaos Emerald, the chameleon decreed immediately, but there still was some sort of power running through it, that his well-trained senses did not miss…

And he had seen them around the creature, he was sure of that.

“Nonsense,” Espio spoke out loud, ignoring the odd looks from some people making their way through the city across the road as he turned on his heels and briskly stepped back towards where the Chaotix’ Agency was. Surely that stone had always been there on the road and he merely had not seen it, or someone had dropped it in the few minutes of his distraction or it had fallen from a car- he had hallucinated the creature and it had been his quick reflexes that had led to a good ending, after all, so there was no way the rock in his hands meant anything.

But as he walked over the pavement and flinched at every single noise of a car driving past the chameleon could not help himself and sent a single glance over his shoulder, where the cyan glow was no more, and he could not help shake the feeling it hadn’t been his reflexes that saved him after all.

#this story is not worked out so well but I at least *do* know how I want it to end so that is good!!#silver the hedgehog #espio the chameleon #espilver #I'm honestly not even sure if I want to use the Time Stones since they are very local to Sonic CD and Little Planet #they're not a global thing afaik #but then I'd have to create some MacGuffins myself and like... what and how and stuff lol

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joshlane · 2 years

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MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Under the cut are gifts for @alicezhaox @dahliadumont @danebyers @elisequinn @xjaylahopkins @lcrcmcrie @lincolnandrewscott @nicholaswturner @spencerjohnn @treywright @viviennefaye @zoeylcwrence. Candles and a little something special -- happy holiday to everyone! xx

alice -- a new leather bag to help you get all of your important things to and from work. hopefully, I'll see you around at all of the events in 2023.

dahlia -- so you can always have the coffee that you need to get through both your good days and your bad. hopefully, without any of the mess that comes with spills.

dane -- a little something to help keep your car shined and ready to go. and also to help you with the ones that you're working on, too, just in case.

elise -- a brand new apron for the woman that keeps this town very well fed. although i'm sure you have a million, i hope that this one ends up being your very favorite.

jayla -- a warm sweater that will help you get through the cold nights. and also hopefully inspire you to get out there and find all of the best birds in merrock!

lara marie -- a woman on the go always needs a good cup of coffee to keep her going. i hope that this ends up being the prettiest cup of coffee that you could ask for.

lincoln -- to a new export in town... hopefully this sweater helps you stay warm and dry, and maybe we'll make a full-time mainer and merrockite of you yet!

nicholas -- i hope that this planner helps make your school year a little bit easier, or if nothing else, it makes you look a lot cooler to your students!

spencer -- trust me when i say that i was very tempted to get you an ice fishing pole, but. i decided that this coffee thermos might work a little bit better for you.

trey -- yes, this gift might be as much for the dog as it is for you, but that's okay. bernie will be grateful for the fact that he has a collar that matches your bracelet!

vivienne -- i hope that you've been doing well since our last meeting, and that you're enjoying your holiday season! i got you this journal to help keep all of those thoughts tidy. that, and it's pretty.

zoey -- getting you a candle might be a bit ironic, but i thought that a warm and cozy scarf would go with a warm and cozy candle, none the less! it's also to keep you snug on your cold days at work.

#a gift from josh

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lulusoblue · 2 years

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BioFluff Week 2022, Day 1: Early Mornings

My first entry for @biofluffweek ! So I'm posting this technically on Day 3?? depending on timezone but screw it, I'm participating, here it is! Some soft Elizanor fluff that I hope is good because I haven't written properly for years. SO!

Lost and Found

Characters: Elizabeth Comstock, Eleanor Lamb

Pairing(s): Elizanor (Elizabeth Comstock/Eleanor Lamb)

BioFluff Prompt: Day 1, "Early Mornings"

Summary: Elizabeth and Eleanor have found each other, and spend their days doing whatever they want, together. However, though their pasts are left behind them, there are still the ghosts that linger.

---

Elizabeth finds it odd that she's grown so used to Paris. It isn't a bad thing, nor is it that she's getting bored of the sights, the sounds, the smells - she would never get bored of anything on this street especially. Today is so bright and clear, and the light buzz in the air makes Elizabeth almost giddy. It's just... odd.

For as long as she can remember, she's dreamed of Paris. Of the many, many books in her tower, the ones most worn and read through had been the ones that contained so much as a mention of the city. So many daydreams she‘d had to pass away her time, made all the more enjoyable when she had put them to her canvas.

So many times had those paintings disappeared overnight.

Now she's here . Now she's free to walk its streets, meet its people, browse its markets and venues and try its foods and wear its fashion. And while it's this freedom she absolutely cherishes, she also finds it... mundane? Average? Normal? She's not quite sure which word to put on it. They all make it sound boring, and for all her time spent reading, the right word for it escapes her now.

Maybe it's 'routine'? Maybe, after all, it's what she's doing right now. A morning routine for days when they visited Paris. And the first thing in this routine is a quick favourite - buttery croissants and coffee to go.

The sun is rising slowly in the sky as Parisians slowly and steadily rise themselves. Shopkeeps prepare their storefronts as Elizabeth walks past them, heading straight for one little cafe on the street corner; the best coffee she and Eleanor had ever had.

Pascal spies Elizabeth as she steps into Elise ’s, his hand over the counter and ready to take her thermos as she steps up to the counter. "Bonjour, Elizabeth."

"Bonjour!" She almost sings it back to him, a little loud too. Walking here seems to have that effect on her.

Pascal gives her a warm smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, as he puts together her order without asking what it is. "Haven't seen you around here in a while. How are you?"

"Amazing! What about yourself?" she asks back in French. (Another reason she will never get bored here is just how much her French has started to flow in everyday chatter.)

"As well as I can be." He carefully picks out croissants from the display and slips each one into a paper bag. "So where’s your friend today?"

"Sleeping in. That's why I came for your coffee, Pascal. I need it to work its magic."

He shakes his head as he checks on said coffee. "From what you've told me, I'm shocked to learn it can raise the dead."

Elizabeth smiles, but she feels just the slightest waver in it. Pascal doesn't see it in time before the smile steadies and she's digging for her purse. "What can I say? It’s one of the few things that can wake Eleanor up."

With a full thermos and a bagged breakfast in hand, Elizabeth sneaks a generous tip into the jar before leaving. But as much of a hurry as she feels she should be in, she still finds distractions along the way.

A small little flower shop, run by a sweet elderly lady. Mme Bellamy's flower display is exquisite, colours so vibrant and full of life. Elizabeth can't resist the urge to buy a small bouquet of pink roses from the elderly woman, which leads to a brief talk about recent events she's missed, before Elizabeth skips on her way.

Maybe she doesn't have to hurry - as far as she's tested her limits, it seems she's got as much time as she wants - but there's still that pull to get back home sooner than later.

She cannot, however, resist her second distraction.

Œuvers Distinguées , a bookshop with the mixed scent of old and new books that Elizabeth loves as she helplessly lets her feet walk her inside. The shop owner looks up and waves from where he’s organising one of the bookshelves. “Bonjour, mademoiselle! I was wondering when you’d be back here .”

“Bonjour, monsieur!”

The visit is fairly quick. Elizabeth scans the shelves for anything unfamiliar, when her eyes fall on one book in particular. The Age of Innocence . She's been meaning to read this one for a while. She plucks it from the shelf and steps over to the owner.

"I’m sorry to interrupt you, how much is this one?"

"I'm sorry, cherie, but that has not been written yet."

Elizabeth's head snaps up. A chill rolls down her spine as her words take a moment to catch up. "I... I'm sorry, I don't think I caught that. "

The clerk repeats himself. " That will be 10 F, mademoiselle."

She buys the book nonetheless, but the moment hangs over her as she leaves.

The mood for window browsing is gone, as Elizabeth opts to take a route along the riverside home. She tries to relax, ease her mind by taking in the familiar beauty of Paris around her, the place of her dreams… but instead it keeps going back to the bookshop.

“That has not been written yet.”

She had heard that somewhere in Paris before.

Elizabeth reaches her destination and finds the stairs down to underneath it. Something tells her not to look over the guardrail into the water, and she hastily makes her way to the wall before she can do just that. Curiosity has unsettled her enough today. She takes the knob of the door that manifests on the wall and enters a small foyer. When the door shuts behind her, the sound of the river is gone. She kicks off her shoes and sets them neatly by the door.

The first stop is the study. It’s dimly lit when she walks in, with just the tablelamp on next to Elizabeth’s reading corner. She pulls out her new book, her eyes lingering on the cover for just a moment, before placing it in her chair and moving on.

In the dining room, there’s already the plates and mugs she’s set up for breakfast. All that’s left is to transfer the food from paper bag to crockery and pour out the coffee. She leaves the bag, the bouquet and thermos on the table. Much as she enjoys her quiet morning rituals, she feels the need to haul her accomplice out of bed before setting things up proper. So, it’s up the stairs she goes.

The bedroom door is exactly as Elizabeth left it, slightly ajar. She pushes it open and peers in to find that Eleanor is also as she left her, soundly asleep in their bed. Elizabeth walks in quietly as she can as she moves to Eleanor’s side of the bed, the soft blue light of the window behind her, and watches the other girl snooze just a little longer. Things had been out of sorts with Eleanor’s sleeping lately. Sudden starts waking her in the night, too withdrawn to talk until the middle of the day when she would apologise and say it was just a bad dream. It was good to see Eleanor having some rest undisturbed.

Then Eleanor begins to stir. Her eyes don’t open, but she mumbles, “You’re staring again.”

“Sorry,” Elizabeth half-laughs, reaching to brush hair from Eleanor’s face. “I know, but it’s nice seeing you so peaceful.”

Eleanor grumbles as she props herself up on her elbow, rubbing at her eyes and looking past Elizabeth to the window. “Might have something to do with that .”

Instead of a sunny day outside their bedroom window, there was instead a view of the deep blue sea. Aquatic life swims by the glass and there’s the sound of whale calls somewhere in the distance.

Elizabeth feels her smile turn sheepish. “You seem to sleep better with this view. Hold on, I’ll change it back.” And with a wave of her hand, the ocean is gone and replaced by a forest and a rose-filled flower box the window sill again. She feels the change spread out around the room and the rest of their home, and Paris and the sea were gone. Reality had shifted back to their private little woodland clearing in the middle of nowhere.

Eleanor sits up properly now and stretches. “You’re up early. You already been out for breakfast then?”

“You know me well.” Elizabeth leans down to give her forehead a light peck. “ Elise ’s, 2008.”

Eleanor feigns an impressed “ooo” and receives a light push on the shoulder for it. “Anything exciting happen on the way?”

“I bought a new book!” Elizabeth sits on top of the covers next to her lover, feeling the excitement as she explains. “The Age of Innocence. I’ve been meaning to read it for a while, and I saw it passing through the bookshop and had to get it!”

“Ah, another one for the shelf. Was that in Finch Books?”

She shakes her head. “ Œuvers Distinguées, and I got to be the first customer of the day!”

Eleanor’s brow furrows a little. “ Œuvers Distinguées ? …Wasn’t that shop the one that burned down?”

There’s a little twist in Elizabeth’s gut. “...What?”

“Mmm,” Eleanor hums, thinking. “We heard from Jeannette that it had burned down when we visited her in-”

“1996,” Elizabeth finishes. She remembers. “R-right. I must have got them mixed up.” She shakes her head. “Anyway, I’ll go get breakfast ready while you get-”

Eleanor gently takes her hand before she can get up. “Liz, are you alright?”

“Fine!” She winces at the pitch of her own voice, and can’t bring herself to look Eleanor in the eye. She settles back down on the bed and fidgets. “I mean, I’m fine. I just… got them mixed up.”

Eleanor doesn’t look convinced. She swings her legs out from under the bed sheets and shuffles up next to her. Even while sitting, she’s a good few inches taller. She takes both of Elizabeth’s hands in hers. “No. Something happened today, didn’t it?”

Elizabeth meets her gaze, looking into her bright blue eyes. They made her think of the ocean. “I…” She sighs. “Do you… you said before, your nightmares… That they don’t feel like they’re yours?”

Eleanor shakes her head. “No, they aren’t. They’re from the ADAM, I'm certain of that.”

“Well…” Elizabeth breaks eye contact, focusing on the patterns in the floorboards. “I’ve been having some moments lately where… where things happen that are familiar , but they’re not . They’re not mine … my memories, that is.”

“Mm-hmm.” She feels Eleanor lightly squeeze her hands. “I definitely know that feeling. But, mine are from ADAM… are yours from… your tears?”

“I don’t know.” She looks back to Eleanor’s face. “It’s not like it’s anything hindering or I don’t- I don’t feel anything wrong.” She shrugs. “I think it’s just from where I’m spread out.”

“Spread out?”

“I'm not sure how to explain it. I’m seeing or… experiencing moments that don’t belong to me, but happened to me somewhere else. Behind another door.” Elizabeth shakes her head. “I don’t know if I just imagined that shop or if I… I made it appear.”

“Without you knowing it?” When Elizabeth shakes her head, she feels Eleanor’s arm move to wrap around the back of her shoulders. “That does sound like something that would shake you up.”

“I wish it didn’t.” Elizabeth leans into her. “For all the things I can do now, I wish I could have more control. When I went in to buy that book, I could have sworn the owner said, ‘That hasn’t been written yet’.” She closes her eyes as though it might help, might bring her the answers she wanted. “Something about that… wherever it’s from, it feels wrong.”

Eleanor hums into her hair, rubbing Elizabeth’s shoulder.

They stay like that for a while, the sound of birdsong and a gentle wind in the trees coming from outside. Somehow, being together like this helped Elizabeth just forget. Short of following Lutece’s advice on loneliness, she and Eleanor felt like the only two people across a sea of doors who could truly know each other, understand what the other must have been through. It was comforting after their lifetimes of isolation.

Their peace is broken as Eleanor sits upright first. She takes Elizabeth’s shoulders and softly turns her so they can face each other. “Right,” she says, her face bright, “how about you change back into your pyjamas and we have a lazy day? Breakfast in bed, and you can read me your new book.”

“You could just read them yourself, you know.”

“I could , but I love to hear the sound of your voice.”

And in spite of her unease moments ago, Elizabeth laughs and playfully pushes Eleanor away. “Stop!”

Eleanor laughs too, nudging her in return. “I mean it! Come on, you’re always up early. Let’s just relax and have a lay-in, hmm?”

She looks up into Eleanor’s eyes and smiles, really smiles, and says “That sounds perfect.” And she takes her love’s face in her hands and kisses her, slowly, so Eleanor knows how much this means to her - how much she means - before she gets up from the bed and goes back downstairs.

#bioshock #biofluff #elizanor #elizabeth comstock #eleanor lamb #biofluff week 2022 #fanfiction #hey *I* wrote a thing #it's a halloween miracle

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dilfdemolisher · 4 months

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PERSEPHONE - CHAPTER TWO

“Persephone, queen of the underworld. Hades runs Hell, but she’s in charge of punishment.”

Series Summary: A serial killer who works with the police herself has a tumultuous past with Jack Crawford and his new profiler Will Graham. While trying to rebuild what she once broke Hannibal Lecter sticks himself in the middle of the few things she cares about - Comments and critiques are encouraged.

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, dead bodies, reference to suicide, drug addiction and homelessness. Slightly comedic drug deal, plentiful of awkward tension and angst

Word Count: 7.5k - thank you endlessly to the amazing @whipitgod for helping me edit this, there's no words to describe how appreciative I am for you to give your time to oversee my writing, but I hope a thank you can suffice<3

You step out of your taxi, the Nichol’s home ahead of you. You can feel the sorrowful atmosphere of their house emanating from down the street. You requested that the driver drop you off far from the residence. At the time, it sounded smarter; you could be the one to walk up to Will and Jack, who're standing just outside the house. You could be the one to confidently initiate conversation, making it seem like the past two years haven't happened and that you've moved on. But now that your theory is in practice, you feel much more cowardly.

As you take your steps forward, Jack looks at you with a sharp nod. Will, whose back is facing you, whips his head around and makes eye contact with you. His face was already so emotionless, but you swear it drops more. You're sure he knew you were coming; Jack only replied to your text with, “See you soon”. But there's no way he didn't know you were coming, so he’s just upset to see you.

You can’t blame him, you left. Hell, you're upset to see him, not because he did anything but because he reminds you of what you’ve done. Not only that, but you know if he saw the bloody amalgamation you are now, something that so closely emulates but is just uncanny and hollow enough to be able to feel something's off. He’d be disgusted.

Embarrassment tightens its grip around you as your hand hesitantly lifts for a feeble wave. Will fully pivots his body around to face you.

“Hi.” You shamefully mumble, the weight of your own self-doubt pressing down on every syllable. Fuck, this was going so much better in your head. 15 minutes ago, you were so sure of yourself that you could approach with confidence, but now this feels mortifying.

You can see the thoughts jumble in Will's head. He’s not sure if he should speak or if he even wants to.

Behind you, Jack emits an exasperated sigh, his footsteps signaling his retreat toward the home. With a final glance at Will, you follow your temporary boss.

With three loud, deliberate knocks, Jack announces your presence at the doorstep of the grieving parents' house. Inside, a symphony of shuffling feet accompanies the opening of the door, revealing a man—presumably Elise's father and his wife—standing closely behind him.

“I’m Jack Crawford, I'm with the BAU; we’re here to discuss your daughter, Elise Nichols.” Jack says, keeping his voice stoic and stable.

The father's eyebrows shoot up in recognition. "Oh yes, of course, of course. Um, who are you?" He inquires, his gaze flickering between you and Will. You hear Will take a sharp breath inward and speak, “I’m a Special Agent.” He manages, his discomfort evident.

“Oh yes, yes.” The mother chimes in; her eyes linger on you.

"I specialize in forensics," you offer with a warm smile, hoping to ease the tension. However, the warmth quickly dissipates as their expressions falter into fear, immediately assuming the worst. "I, um, also dabble in profiling, but officially, I'm in forensics.”

Jack exhales audibly, breaking the awkward silence. "Shall we step inside?" he suggests, his tone firm.

The parents retreat slightly, allowing space for you all to enter. "Yes, of course," they murmur in unison, their desperation evident in their every movement, a silent plea echoing in their eyes for the return of their beloved daughter.

“Take a seat.” The woman says,

"We'll stand, but thank you. Please feel free to get comfortable," Jack replies courteously, closing the door behind him with a soft click, sealing off the outside world and enclosing them within the cocoon of grief that suffocates the room.

The father makes a few unintelligible noises before putting himself together and starting to speak. “She could have gone off by herself. She was a very interior young woman. She didn’t like living in a dorm. I could see how the pressure of school might have gotten to her. She likes trains. Maybe she just got on a train and… ” He trails off, uncertain.

Will's gaze drifts downward to his boots as the mother timidly adds, “She looks like the other girls.”

"She fits the profile," Jack asserts matter-of-factly, punctuating his statement with a nod of affirmation.

Mr. Nichols looks at Jack and asks, “Could Elise still be alive?” He ventures, desperation lacing his voice.

“We simply have no way of knowing.” Jack says. You don't know how he does it, not console. Maybe it’s because he does not need to be performative; maybe it’s because it’s so natural for him, like it used to be for you.

“How’s the cat?” Will interjects. Oh, how you’ve missed hearing his voice.

Both of the parents look entirely confused. “What?”

“How’s your cat?” Will repeats, his tone gentle yet insistent, “Elise was supposed to feed it. Was the cat weird when you came home? It didn’t eat all weekend, it must have been hungry.” He explains.

The Nichols look at each other, confused for a moment, unsure of how to respond, “I didn’t notice.” Says the husband.

With a subtle nod to Jack, Will gestures for him to follow as they move aside, their conversation veering into a more discreet realm. You don't join; you figure Will would rather keep his distance from you. They take a few steps away before Will begins speaking. “He took her from here.” Will says low. You hear both of the parents gasp as he continues his. “She got on a train. She came home. She fed the cat. And he took her.”

Jack pulls out his phone and starts to dial immediately. “The Nichols house is a crime scene. I need an ERT immediately. Zeller, Katz, Jimmy Price.”

In response, the couple springs to their feet; their agitation is palpable. "Would you mind if I took a look at your daughter's room?" You inquire politely.

Mr. Nichols steps forward and says. “The police have been in and out of there all day.” He says exasperated.

“That's fine.” You reassure. “I’m not necessarily looking for evidence or DNA. I just want to see it to get a better understanding of her. If you don't mind, bringing my kit is really just a formality.” You explain while giving it a pat.

The father remains silent, offering only a nod as he leads the way. You follow closely, your hand delving into your bag to retrieve a pair of gloves. A glance over your shoulder reveals Will doing the same, his movements mirroring yours with quiet efficiency. Brief, awkward eye contact passes between you before both of you swiftly redirect your gazes, focusing on the father who stands sentinel before his daughter's bedroom door, a silent guardian of her sanctuary.

With a steadying breath, you address him, "May we enter, sir?" You sense the gravity of the situation settling upon him, the realization dawning that this is no longer a mere inquiry from the local authorities but a visitation from the FBI.

As the father reaches for the doorknob, Will intervenes. “I’ll get that. Mr. Nichols, would you put your hands in your pockets and avoid touching anything, please?” He instructs, his words tinged with a hint of frustration.

“Oh. My wife and I have been in and out all day.” So the police never told you not to contaminate your daughter's crime scene. Great.

“You can hold that cat if it’s easier.” Says Will.

With gloved hands, you turn the knob and push open the door, the hallway light spilling into the dimly lit room. Elise's form lies motionless on her bed, her peaceful repose. Her greying body faces the ceiling and her arms are by her side, belying the tragedy that has befallen her.

Her father utters her name, his voice thick with emotion. Both you and Will quickly turn to face him, with Will raising a gloved hand to halt any further movement from the father.

There's a glimmer of hope in Mr. Nichols' eyes as he calls out for his daughter. “Elise?” A desperate plea for the impossible to be true, for his daughter to awaken from this nightmare and return to him unharmed.

You’re uncertain of the appropriate response when a parent finds their previously missing teenage daughter lying dead on her mattress. Though you imagine the best reaction to have is to console him, “I am so sorry, sir,”

You can see the moment reality crashes onto Mr. Nichols, his eyes widening in horror as he takes a shuddering breath, his entire being tensing with anguish. With a hollow thud, the cat slips from his grasp, forgotten at his feet, his gaze cemented on his deceased daughter as you hear Will call for Jack.

2 YEARS EARLIER

The DNA wasn’t a match for the victim, but it was a match for Patrick Glynn; his rap sheet read like a litany of woes—a DUI, allegations of domestic violence, and a trail of police calls marking his descent into chaos. His current whereabouts are unknown. Once a successful businessman fell into drugs after his only child committed suicide, he now spends his time begging his ex-colleges for money to prick a needle into his arm once again. Though, no history of mental illness.

He grew up in an affluent family, got a woman pregnant; they both decided to co-parent and seemed to live a balanced life. Up until his daughter's death, after he had started his affair with drugs. First, what was probably just a rail of coke seemed to spiral out of control as his assistant found a burnt spoon he left on his desk, prompting a drug test that came back overwhelmingly positive. He lost his job, therefore his money, his house, and everything but his sleeping bag that he sleeps on the Virgina streets with. Or should be; he hasn't been seen in weeks.

His peers assumed he was dead, that he'd overdosed somewhere and that his body’s still yet to be found. The question that Jack put into everybody's head is why. Why was Glynn’s DNA at the crime scene?

Jack's voice sliced through the fog of your thoughts. You blink, suddenly aware of the sterile surroundings of the briefing room. Dr. Bloom was chattering about the brains of psychopaths and how some parts of the brain process empathy differently. The monster that was able to commit a crime as heinous as the one you’re all dealing with now would have to be someone so cognitively distant from society.

You shake your head as if you’re trying to remove the needless ramblings from your skull. “Parden?” You murmur, your attention snapping back to the present moment.

Jack clenches his jaw slightly, clearly frustrated by your lack of attention to the matter. “The attachments—were they made pre- or post-mortem?”

“Attachments.” What an odd choice of word you think to yourself. “Everything is indicative of it happening postmortem. The preliminary autopsy also showed severe bruising and ligature marks around the wrists and ankles, which could indicate the victim was bound for periods of time.”

Brian's voice cut through the tension, injecting a note of grim reality into the conversation. "There was content found in the victim's stomach as well. Most of it was fully digested but seems to be all pig feed; there were also signs of dehydration."

Dr. Bloom gives a tight lip smile to the both of you. Something that you assume was just meant to be for acknowledgement but it felt a bit snooty. You're honestly not sure why; it could be you just in your head, still embarrassed from your brief dissociation earlier. Or it could just be her appearance; everything about the doctor looks so sharp. Her cheekbones are prominent, and she has the kind of bone structure that demands attention. Her haircut is shorter and lands just above her collarbone, with dark, blunt layers that surround her head. Her mouth also seems to rest in a frown. It makes sense, though; if you had to pick into the brains of psychopaths for a paycheck, you fear you’d have some sort of permanent scowl on your face as well.

“The victim was missing for five days.” She says while raising her chin. “That suggests an elaborate kill ritual for a serial killer.”

Now that caught your attention. “It was just one body; how do you know it's a serial killer?” You interject, unable to mask your scepticism.

Her face quickly turns to you. “I doubt this was his first kill. Those are usually more spontaneous, this was planned ahead of time and a lot of thought went into it.” The more she speaks, the more confident she grows, though you have to disagree. This could very well be a first kill, just a very well-thought-out, methodical one. You can’t imagine that a first kill from this killer could be sloppy in the slightest.

Despite your reservations, you hold your tongue, deferring to her expertise. After all, she was the psychologist, your job is to stay in a dark little room that's your office.

“I’m thinking we’re looking for someone at least in their 30’s.” She continues, “Intelligent, organised. Takes great pride in his work. I think he’d enjoy the fact that we’re talking about him right now.”

Jack nods in silent agreement before questioning, "You think there will be more?"

"I would be surprised if there aren’t. Any suspects?" Dr. Bloom's inquiry hung in the air.

“Yes.” You respond, the sound emerging a tad too loudly from your mouth. "A drop of Patrick Glynn's blood was discovered at the crime scene, originating from his nasal cavity. It appears to be drug-induced, with traces of cocaine present within the sample."

Jack immediately continues the moment you cease speaking. "Alright, let's broaden our interviews with the victim's friends and coworkers," he declares, his voice commanding attention.

"We need to pinpoint where the victim intersected with the killer." His gaze shifts to you, a silent directive embedded within his eyes. "You stay on the DNA," he directs firmly before exchanging a wordless glance with Bloom. The doctor starts gathering her papers that she previously set down as she speaks. “Thank you,” she says politely before walking out of the room.

Jack's words to you hung in the air like a silent reprimand, a gentle reminder that your role in this investigation was strictly defined. You had a tendency to delve into matters beyond your expertise, often veering into the realm of detective work where your contributions were unnecessary, if not unwelcome.

Dr. Bloom's presence reinforced the point—her expertise in psychology far outweighed your own, and her insights held sway over the collective understanding of the case. Despite your consistent eagerness to lend a hand in cases, Jack's command served as a subtle cue to step back and resist the urge to insert yourself where you didn't belong.

As the others rise from their chairs, departing the briefing room, you settle into yours. You recess into your own thoughts. Frustration simmered in the pit of your stomach, a stubborn defiance against the prospect of being sidelined.

The feeling was born from a sense of injustice, a gnawing resentment at the notion of being replaced. You have poured your heart and soul into assisting with cases, going above and beyond the call of duty in pursuit of justice. You’ve delved into tasks far beyond your designated role, driven by a relentless determination to solve the unsolvable, asking for nothing in return—not even a fucking raise—and Jack does what? Find your replacement the moment you get a little queasy at a crime scene. Bullshit.

You’ve helped in so many aspects of cases that are not your obligation, all for the sake of solving the case. You never even asked for a raise and what? Find your replacement all because you got a little queasy at the crime scene, bullshit.

But to be cast aside so easily, to have your contributions overlooked in favour of someone new—it was a bitter pill to swallow. As you sat in silence, stewing in your frustration, a stubborn resolve took root within you. You may have faltered, but you refused to be sidelined. If he wants to find a replacement for you, he can. You can just do your own detective work off-hours.

PRESENT DAY

You are in the hallway, floundering around, waiting until Will has finished his…thing. It’s a bad habit, you know, but you can’t help but stare at the framed photos in the homes of the victims. A portrait of what once was, before their bodies had begun to decompose. Just a moment of what was forever captured into a rectangle that hangs on the wall.

Jack and Brian hurry past you, their footsteps echoing down the corridor. You feel a fleeting brush of Zeller's coat against yours before he disappears into the victim's bedroom. You can’t help the curiosity that tugs at you, compelling you to follow.

"You’re not supposed to be here." Jack's voice carried through the walls, a sharp reprimand aimed at an unseen intruder. Intrigued, you creep closer, your footsteps soft against the floorboards.

Inside the room, the scene unfolded before you like a macabre tableau. Will, Jack, Brian, and Beverly clustered around the bed, their expressions a mixture of determination and unease. Beverly's voice cut through the tension, her words tinged with excitement as she revealed her findings.

"Found antler velvet in two of the wounds," she announces, her gaze flickering towards the door where you stood. “It seems like she was gored. I was looking for velvet in the other wounds but I was interrupted.” Beverly continues, alluding to Will.

Will's gaze meets yours briefly, his expression inscrutable before he turns away, his attention drawn to the window, looking at the street full of police cars that sit on the street.

“Deer and elk pin their prey, put all their weight on the antlers and try to suffocate them. That’s how they would kill a fox or a coyote.” Brian interjects, his scepticism evident in his tone.

Jack's voice cut through the debate. “Elise Nichols was strangled and suffocated; her ribs were broken.” His words carrying the weight of authority.

“It’s not rutting season,” Brian counters once again, his disbelief evident. “Male deer aren’t competing for female deer this time of year.”

Will ceases his silence and joins the discussion. “Antler velvet is rich in nutrients, it actually promotes healing. He may have put it there on purpose.” His voice pierced the tense atmosphere, words landing with a weight that seemed to reverberate through the room. Each syllable felt like a punch to the gut, a reminder of the strain that had settled between you too.

You were once a sense of comfort around him and now you make him tense. You watch as he stiffens, his body tensing every time he hears the sound of your voice or looks at you. His back straightens and his shoulders rise so close to his ears that you almost wonder if they're going to touch. That's not what you wanted; it’s why you left in the first place. The prospect of death is better than harming Will. You had hoped to spare him from the turmoil that plagued your own path, to shield him from the darkness that was consuming you.

And now that you’ve come back, you realize it was all for nothing. That coming back dug up the grave of what once was between you. Not only that but joining a case that he’s on is like throwing the dirt-covered bones of friendship in his face and laughing.

Jack's voice pulls you from your muddled thoughts, “You think he wanted to heal her?”

Will quickly exhales; a subtle tremor runs through his body, a sign of his nervous system struggling to find equilibrium. It was a reflexive response, a subconscious attempt to quell the rising tide of tension that threatened to overwhelm him. You know it's from the entirety of the situation that's been placed on all your laps yet, despite the rational understanding of the external pressures at play, a nagging sense of guilt gnaws at you like a dog with a bone. It’s a persistent voice in the back of your mind, whispering accusations of fault and responsibility.

Jack's words cut through the somber atmosphere. “He put her back where he found her.”

Will's gaze remained fixed on Elise's body, his eyes holding a haunted expression as he spoke, “Whatever he did to the others, he couldn’t do it to her.”

“Is this his golden ticket?” The detective asks Will.

“No.” He shakes his head, his gaze never leaving Elise's still form. “This is an apology.”

The word hung in the air, an apology. It's caught in Will's throat like a bitter pill. He ran a hand over his forehead, the strain of the moment etched into the lines of his face. "Does anyone have any aspirin?"

2 YEARS AGO

The victim, Cristopher Myers, seemingly ate himself to death. His stomach was abnormally large, even for a man his size and the interior wall had been ripped open. He had food shoved down his throat till he almost burst, though the cause of death was actually sepsis from the unhygienic and faulty procedures the man went through.

A one-of-a kind kill, and yet you’re tasked with doing blood work for a case where a woman was stabbed by her boyfriend, who was seen covered in blood, driving away from the scene when you could be giving your insight into this case off hours.

Despite Jack's request, you’ve been diving into the case. And something good came out of it—you found Glynn’s dealer and were looking at him. You will say that investigating unofficially comes in handy when you don’t need to go about things cautiously and legally to avoid a lawsuit.

As you step out of the safety of the car, the door closes softly behind you, walking into the darkness of the city. Across the street, the figure of Glynn's dealer loomed in the dim light, his back turned to you.

With a cautious glance at both sides of the street, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of amusement at the irony of the situation. Here you are, approaching a known drug dealer who had ties to a suspected murderer, and yet you still find it important to heed the warnings your mother would give to you as a child about road safety.

“Hey!” you shout out to catch his attention. The dealer turns to face you, his hand lingering in his jacket pocket. Good to know he’s probably strapped you suppose.

"Um, are ya’ selling?" You stammer, your confidence faltering in the face of his guarded demeanour. It wasn't the smooth delivery you intended, though; you doubt a junkie looking for a fix wouldn’t be the most cheery.

Drawing closer, his gruff appearance becomes more noticeable in the offcast from the far streetlamps. “Who’s asking?”

Summoning all the guile you could muster, you concocted a lie on the spot. “Me. The dude who usually sells to me just up and disappeared. He mentioned buying from you a couple times so I was hoping you could hook me up.”

You see his guarded demeanour drop for a moment; he hasn't heard from his customer either. “Who?”

“Pat.” You say, hoping the nickname will subtly nod to your nonexistent relationship with a missing man.

His face flashes with recognition. “I ain’t seen Patrick in about,” his eyes trailing up to the sky while pondering the time. “Three weeks. I heard him and a few buddies were sleeping at that old school they’re bouta’ tear down.”

“Shit,” you say before you even have time to think. The murder was committed about a week ago, which gives Glynn plenty of time to torture the victim. It’s only circumstantial, but it could be evidence.

Before you had time to fully process the revelation, the dealer's next question brought you back to the task at hand. "What do you want?"

You'd almost forgotten the original purpose of the interaction amidst the whirlwind of information. "Coke," you blurt out, feeling a surge of adrenaline as you watch him sling his backpack onto the sidewalk.

"How much?" he asks, his demeanour shifting to that of a salesman.

“3 grams?” You reply, assuming that's an appropriate amount.

"250,” he says while pulling out three little bags of the white powder, presumably containing a gram each. The little bags are honestly kind of cute despite the illicit substances in them, you think to yourself while grabbing the cash out of your pocket. You’re out of tens and fives, only having twenties so just give him an extra ten.

As he begins to count the cash, you see his eyebrows furrow and his mouth open to begin to speak, but instead you seize the opportunity to make a swift exit. You grab the little bags out of his hand before walking away and calling out over your shoulder, "Keep the change!" with a forced cheeriness that felt out of place in the shadowy alleyway.

As you settle into the driver's seat and discreetly stash the bags of drugs in the glove compartment, a sense of urgency gnaws at the edges of your consciousness. There's a task at hand, a lead to pursue, and time is of the essence. You can deal with disposing of the drugs later. Right now, you punch the address of the old middle school into your GPS, the soft glow of the screen illuminating the dim interior of the car. You’ve got to give it to him; the abandoned school isn't the worst place to hide out. It’s due to be torn down soon, then rebuilt in the spring once the snow is gone.

As you shift the car into drive, a fleeting thought tugs at the corners of your mind—a debate over whether to inform Jack of your newfound information. You’re unsure whether to call Jack to relay your new-found information, but you're also not sure how to explain it. You suppose it’s best to keep your findings to yourself for now.

In the front of the school, doors that were once chained shut have silver chains laid tossed aside on the ground. You step cautiously through the school's entrance, your footsteps muffled by the thick layer of dust that coats the floor. The air hangs heavy with the scent of neglect, and the silence is broken only by the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards.

As you venture deeper into the deserted corridors, your flashlight illuminates the remnants of a forgotten institution of learning—classrooms with broken desks and peeling paint, a library with shelves barren of books, and a gymnasium echoing with the ghosts of past games. It’s the gym where you find who you’re looking for.

The stench of death and decay hangs heavy in the air as you take in the sight before you. Patrick Glynn's lifeless form lies sprawled on the gym floor, surrounded by a display of blood-filled jars.

Your mind reels with horror and revulsion at the sight, struggling to comprehend the sheer depravity of what you're witnessing. Each jar is filled to the brim with crimson liquid, the sickening smell of iron mingling with the musty air of the abandoned school.

As you approach closer, the beam of your flashlight reveals the true extent of the horror. Glynn's body is covered in shallow cuts and abrasions, and his skin is mottled with bruises and contusions. It's clear that he endured a torturous ordeal before meeting his untimely demise.

But what truly sends a shiver down your spine is the realization that these jars of blood are not simply a gruesome decoration. No, his scenes are art pieces, exhibits of brutality. Each one a testament to the lives he has taken and the souls sacrificed at the altar of his twisted desires.

You hastily grab the phone out of your jacket pocket, shakily calling Jack. Before he can even greet you, you stop him and say, "Please don’t be upset with me.”

Jack's voice crackles through the phone, his tone tinged with concern. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Your heart races as you struggle to find the words to convey what you've just found. "I found Glynn… He's dead," you manage to choke out, your voice trembling with emotion. "But it's not just that—oh God, Jack, you have to see it for yourself."

There's a pregnant pause on the other end of the line as Jack absorbs the gravity of your words. “Where are you?”

You clear your throat before speaking, “Um, it’s an abandoned middle school outside of Fredericksburg; there's a high school right by it and it's all near a golf club. No one is in the building. He—the killer—left him here for us to find.”

"Just stay put, okay? Don't do anything else." He says firmly.

You nod, even though he can't see you. The weight of the situation presses down on you like an anchor. "I won't," you promise, though you think it’s a bit too late for it. As you end the call and tuck your phone back into your pocket, you can't shake the feeling of dread that hangs over you.

You feel the two parts of your brain clashing once again. There's a piece of you that's terrified and absolutely disgusted by what's in front of you. And the other part of you, the part that you bury. But you can't help but visually devour the awful scene in front of you.

You’re shaking and can feel the adrenaline flow through your veins with each pump of your heart. But that's it; it’s adrenaline, not fear.

You lower yourself to the cold floor beside him, the lines of the basketball court below you. With trembling hands, you reach out to touch one of the blood-filled jars, the cool glass sending a shiver down your spine as you trace its contours. There's a morbid fascination that grips you, compelling you to study every detail of the scene before you, even as your stomach churns with revulsion.

You can feel the conflicting emotions warring within you—the terror and disgust warring with the dark, primal curiosity that lurks deep within your psyche. You pick up the jar with your mitten-covered hand and tilt the jar to the side to see the dark liquid shift inside the glass.

Curiosity is the true reason for your career choice—an insatiable hunger to uncover the unknown. And blood is the most honest way of doing that. Blood is the body’s truth.

PRESENT DAY

The clock ticks past two in the morning as you guide your car into Will's driveway. The ride from the airport in Baltimore had been long and tiresome, but there was a pressing matter that couldn't wait—the need to speak with Will.

You had intended to catch up with him after wrapping up your tasks for the night, but he scurried out immediately, leaving you with no choice but to make the impromptu trip.

You see Will on his front porch, staring at his pack. You figured he’d be up tonight; you know him well enough. You understand how he becomes consumed by swimming in the minds of the worst of the worst.

The dogs bark upon your arrival, seeming to snap Will out of whatever haze he’s in. You have the same vehicle so you know he recognizes you. You inhale through your nose and exhale out of your mouth as you shift the gear into park.

With a steady breath, you swing open the car door, the cool night air washing over you like a balm. "Hi," you offer tentatively, raising your hand in greeting.

Will's reaction is a study in mixed emotions—confusion, perhaps tinged with a hint of apprehension. You can't blame him; after all, your unannounced arrival at this hour is bound to raise questions, if not suspicions. And you’re the one who left and didn’t give a reason; you’re the one who acted like he didn’t exist.

You stand there, on the threshold between darkness and light, uncertainty hanging heavy in the air. He stands up and walks towards the porch stairs, leaving his old wooden chair behind him. “What are you doing here?”

You offer a nonchalant shrug; the weight of your impromptu journey suddenly feels much heavier. "I was just driving around," you reply, a touch of evasion in your tone.

"Driving around in the middle of the night, two and a half hours away from Baltimore?" Will raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his lips

You meet his gaze steadily, the truth hanging in the air between you. "I felt like I had to see you," you admit, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Will's expression softens, a flicker of understanding passing over his features. "And what? You never did before," he challenges gently, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and frustration.

"I didn't think you'd want to see me, but now I’m here anyway and I think we should talk," you blurt out, the words tumbling from your lips in a rush. "I think that's what people are supposed to do in awkward situations."

Still, Will remains silent, his expression inscrutable, as he waits for a better explanation and a clearer reason for your sudden appearance.

"Fuck," you curse under your breath, uncertainty gnawing at your insides. Running a hand through your hair in a gesture of agitation, you can't help but think about how stupid you must look from his perspective and how coming here to mend things in the middle of the night is a terrible fucking idea. "I'm sorry, coming here was a stupid idea," you admit, the words heavy with self-deprecation.

“Yeah, it was.” The softness in Will's voice cuts through the tension like a knife, his words carrying a weight of their own. You meet his gaze, seeing the conflict in his brain reflected in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the awkwardness of the situation.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. You can feel the regret pooling in the pit of your stomach, a reminder of the consequences of your impulsive actions. You knew this was a stupid idea, which is why you hadn't done it earlier.

Without a word, you turn away from Will, retracing your steps back to your car. Just as you're about to slip inside the vehicle, Will's voice breaks through the silence, laced with a quiet vulnerability, "Do you want to come in?"

The invitation hangs in the air, and for a moment, you hesitate, weighing your options. But then, with a sigh, you nod your head, a silent acceptance of the olive branch he’s extended to you.

As you approach, he spins around and swings the front door wide, a welcoming gesture that belies the tension simmering beneath the surface. The dogs, stationed on the deck, wag their tails furiously in greeting, but your attention is drawn to a dark metal crate off to the side, housing a medium-sized dog.

"Who's that?" you inquire, a note of curiosity in your voice.

"Just found him a couple of hours ago and gave him a bath. This is their first meeting.” He points to the rest of his dogs.

“Oh,” you say. Suddenly, the thought of stepping into his house feels overwhelming, almost suffocating. It’s selfish; you shouldn’t be one to be uncomfortable, let alone ask for accommodations. But you know you can’t step into his house and you have to try to mend your relationship.

“Do you want to talk outside? It's not cold; the weathers nice.” You excuse, total lie. You have no idea how Will’s not freezing his ass off in his white tea-shirt and his pants.

He looked taken aback for a moment. He doesn't know how to navigate this either, you think, and he ushers the dogs into the house before closing the door.

You take a seat on his porch steps; he does too after a moment. The silence is so thick around you, it’s nauseating; you feel almost carsick.

“What do you want to know?” You ask, cutting to the chase. You’re sure he has a scroll worth of questions and that it’s more efficient to just cut to the chase.

Without hesitation, he fires back. "What changed?" His blunt tone takes you off guard. "You made it clear you never wanted to speak to me again, and yet you're sitting at my doorstep."

“I still don’t want to speak to you but it’s inevitable now and you deserve answers that I should have given you before.” The words crawl out of your mouth harshly. You’ve never been good at behaving when getting told off, no matter how much you deserve it.

“Why do you think you’re the one who gets to make things right? Did you ever consider that if I wanted to talk to you so badly-to get closure—I would have done it myself?” He snaps. You stare at him for a moment, hoping that his angry words were a momentary burst of frustration. Though the more seconds that past only show that his anger won’t be fleeting, no, this has been festering.

“I know that you think I’m a piece of shit, and I am. But I left because if you saw how awful I’ve become, it would be so much worse than whatever negative image of me you already have in your head.” You admit. You have to look away from his gaze; you’re ashamed in so many ways that you don’t know where to begin or how to apologize.

"Do you want me to leave?" you ask, nervous energy tingling through your fingertips as you pick at the stray dog hair that somehow floated onto your jeans.

“I want a better answer, one that’s not a lie.” He grunts out.

"I wasn't lying," you protest, but he interrupts you, his voice sharp with disbelief. "I don't believe you. You can't tell me you left because you didn't want to be friends anymore. That's too juvenile, even for you."

He’s right; you know he is. It’s just much easier to tell yourself that your move was entirely for Will’s well being, but you know that is for self preservation too. You couldn’t keep up with your new hobby in Quantico, you had to move away. You couldn’t commit the acts that you do with Jack breathing down your neck.

“I’m too different now, Will. You can’t do the things I’ve done and stay the same. And I want you to know me as the person before, not the one you found covered in blood.”

You can’t tell him how selfish you’ve become. You're now someone who allows themselves to become fully encompassed by their desires and what more do you want than Will? You couldn’t have held yourself back for long; you're too impulsive.

You couldn't hold back your need to touch him—to break him. You’d never hurt him intentionally; you want to hold and cradle him, but you can’t help the desire in you to squeeze. Squeeze till he’s red, till he bursts like a ripe cherry in your fingertips. You want to see the red mess; you want to see how beautiful he is inside and out. You want to devour him, to watch him, to strip all his layers and to digest the sight of him raw in front of you.

Your love disgusts you.

He sighs; disagreement is written all over his face. “You could have tried-”

“I did try; I did. I tried to heal myself, grow thicker skin. But every single time I brushed up against something, all of my progress was peeled right off me. So I bandaged myself up; I don't think I’m wrong for that.” You insist, desperation creeping into your voice.

He doesn't respond. A part of you is upset; how can he empathize with others but not you? What makes you unworthy of his understanding?

“I couldn’t stand the way you looked at me or how everyone looked at me. You looked at me like one of your strays.” Your voice breaks, at that, he turns to look at you. “You looked at me like that because there was something wrong with me, except it’s not fleas or ticks. It’s something inside that eats away at me. And you saw it. I think you saw it clearer than me at first and that's why you felt the need to tend to me. But this is something that contaminated me and everything I do, and I knew it was going to get to you if I didn’t leave.”

You can’t help the tears that start to pool in your waterline. You’re sure he wants to talk, but he doesn't. He lets you continue. “And I left for selfish reasons, your right, and I won’t lie to you; I won’t ever lie to you Will, but it’s not like this is what I wanted; it's what I had to do, and I’ll do what I can to prove that to you, but if you don't want me to, I’ll leave you be.”

He looks at you deeply, like he’s trying to dissect an autopsy on your emotions. “I think it would be best for you to go.” He finally says, his voice barely a whisper.

“Me too.” You say before rising off the steps and walking to your car. Once inside, you see him staring at you through your windshield, his face unreadable in the lack of light.

You turn on your car and reverse out of his driveway.

2 YEARS EARLIER

Your knuckles rap urgently against Will's front door, the sound echoing through the silent night as dogs bark in response while you hear Will’s clunky footsteps as he walks towards his door.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice heavy with alarm as he takes in the distress etched across your features.

“I found him, Glynn he-” Your words dissolve into a choked sob that jumps out of your throat.

“It’s cold; you need to come inside.” Will urges while placing a gentle hand on your back as he guides you inside his home.

"He was murdered, I-I found him," you try to explain, but Will interrupts you once again, your emotions clearly overwhelming him. “I think you should sit down.” He suggests, his voice strained. “Let me get you something to drink.”.

“Yeah, yeah.” You manage to murmur, your throat tight with emotion, as you sink into his old, worn couch. “Coffee please.”

You see Will's eyes momentarily spark up from amusement. “I’ll get you some water,” he says before disappearing into the dark kitchen. You can’t help but feel guilty; from his groggy demeanour and the lack of lit light fixtures, you most likely just woke him up.

You hear the noise of a cabinet opening and shutting before you hear the tap run. A few moments later, Will walks out with a glass in his hand. He hands it to you as he takes a seat on the dog hair-covered sofa beside you.

You look at Will but his face stays staring at his hands in his lap. “I know there's not much to say that can console you on this, so I’m just sorry.” He murmurs sincerely.

You appreciate his honesty because he’s right; there's little solace to be found in empty condolences.

“You don’t have to bother with condolences, Will. It’s fine. I’m sure I’ll get plenty at work tomorrow.” You say with a pitiful laugh, the bitterness of the situation is far from lost on you.

His reaction is swift, his head snapping up to meet your gaze with disbelief. “You should take time off, I’m sure Jack would allow that.”

“No-no-no.” You insist, shaking your head vehemently. “I need to keep busy, I’m to invested now.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He offers.

“I was…entranced by what I saw.” You answer honestly.

Will was visibly taken aback by your words. “Does that make me awful?” You ask, the weight of guilt settling heavy in your chest.

He takes a deep breath before responding. "No. I think you were shocked. It wasn't a regular crime scene; you stumbled upon something that, yes, you were looking for, but it was something you didn't expect. Your brain is trying to rationalize; it's trying to make what you saw less scary."

Weirdly, his attempt at comfort made you feel disappointed. "Yeah. God, I don't know what I was thinking. It was just… so much blood," you confess, the memory still fresh in your mind.

His face dropped, “Did it.” He stops speaking, you can see him trying to fraze his next words carefully. “Bring you back?” He asks indirectly, though you know what he’s referencing.

“I don’t know, maybe subconsciously.” You sigh. You didn’t even realize how much you'd calmed down since walking through its doors. Moments ago, you were on the verge of an anxiety attack and now your nervous system has calmed down dramatically.

“Thank you,” you tell him.

He doesn't pry, nor does he press for further explanation. Instead, he offers you a genuine, small smile. "Of course."

next chapter

#hannibal #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #will graham #hannibal lecter #mads mikkelsen #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham x reader #PERESPHONE #will graham fanfiction #will graham x you #hannibal lector x you #hannibal x you #hannibal fanfiction #persephone

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timotheechlamett · 3 years

Text

JUST FRIENDS

contains: graphic smut, angst, fluff, dom/sub.

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I pulled the yellow dress over my head and checked myself in the mirror one last time, today I was seeing Timmy and to be honest I was nervous. He and I have been best friends for years but I've found myself wanting more than that for a while now. I hear my phone buzz on my vanity.

"Hey angel I'm 5 away." His voice ringing through my ears, just hearing him made me wet.

"Okay Timmy, I'll be ready." I smile and hang up the phone.

I'm not sure how I would be able to control myself around him today every little thing he does sets me off, I sigh to myself wondering if he feels the same, but then again if he did I'm sure we would've been something by now.

'I'm outside!'

A text from him glowing on my screen, I grab my purse and make my way to the front of my apartment building, seeing him outside of his vehicle smiling at me. He engulfs me in a warm hug as I squeeze back I feel his nose nuzzle into my hair.

"I've missed you." He says softly, breaking the hug to look at me.

"Timmy it's only been 2 weeks since you last saw me!" I chuckle.

"I know but what can I say I'm needy." He smirks opening the car door for me and jogging around to the driver's side.

We went to the store, got beers, some snacks, and then went to meet up with a few of our other friends, Nick, Zoe, Sarah, James, and Elise at our spot- an open clearing in a small portion of woods. Once we arrived I greeted everyone there, Sarah finally showed up and with a girl I had never met before.

"Guys this is Chloe!" Sarah introduced the blonde girl to everyone, she gave a small wave, we all introduced ourselves making her feel as welcome as possible.

She pays Timmy extra eye contact once he speaks up to introduce himself, already being flirty with him, I couldn't help but feel jealousy rise in my chest. She was beautiful there was no denying that and by the looks of it Timothee also thought so, returning the prolonged eye contact. I internally scoff and go to grab a beer, Elise coming up next to me.

"What's up? You okay babe?" Elise questions grabbing a beer herself popping the tab open.

"Honestly, I don't know.." I answer honestly taking a big swig of my drink. She grabs my hand and brings me over to the blanket set out on the ground.

"Okay spill." She sternly says.

"I don't know Elise, well I do know, but I don't-" I start to ramble suddenly feeling shy about the topic.

"You know I'm not gonna judge you whatever it is." She tilts her head giving me a small smile.

"It's Timmy, I'm absolutely without a doubt in love with him and have been for a long time. It just kills me because I know he doesn't see me that way and I can't shake the fact I want more with him." I sigh glancing back over at the curly boy, now helping the boys start building a fire for later.

"I think you should tell him sis, you don't even know how he feels you might be surprised. At least then you'll know and he doesn't feel at least something for you he's a dumb bitch." She chuckles taking another swig of her beer.

I smile at her thinking about how I would tell him when the time was right tonight.

"Okay never have I ever done it in public." Zoe laughs out, almost everyone takes a drink to that one.

At this point we had switched to vodka and I was definitely feeling it. We were all around the fire, the sun starting to set making the sky a blur of blue, pink and orange.

Of course Timmy and Chloe were sat next to each other, very obviously up each other's ass, it almost made me sick looking at them. Elise squeezed my leg to assure me she was there, a sympathetic look on her face.

The amount of alcohol I've consumed and the feelings swirling around in my head made the scene almost too much to handle.

Everyone was in their own conversations, I grab my cup walking along the hiking trail to a small creek I had never seen before, sitting on a rock by the creek bed.

I remove my shoes dipping my feet in, watching the water flow across my toes, getting into my own thoughts.

How could I tell him how I feel now? He hasn't left Chloe alone since she got here, of course he would want her, she was absolutely stunning, and I'm just..me- the best friend since 7th grade.

I feel tears swelling up in my eyes, the insecurities clouding my inner thoughts, not being able to help the droplets falling from my eyes rapidly.

Trying to control my little sobs, the sound of someone walking up behind me interrupts.

I turn to see him coming up to me.

"What's wrong my angel?" A look of worry spread across his face as he tries to grab your hands, you let out a low chuckle pulling your hands from his grip looking away.

"Nothing Timothée, what do you want?" You say more dryly than intended. He looks taken back, you never really use his full name.

"What the fuck is your problem? You've had an attitude since we got here." He has a slight tone in his voice.

I get up drinking the rest of the vodka in the cup, sitting it on the rock to put my shoes back on.

"Y/n." He steps closer to me with pleading eyes.

"Take me home." I say quietly, trying not to make it obvious the tears were running again.

I grab my cup walking past him back to the group gathering my things, saying bye to everyone as does Timmy while I wait for him by his car.

I could only look out the window the whole ride, catching him steal glances from the corner of my eye.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong now?" He looks over at me, I stay silent, the last cup you had now hitting you like a truck your emotions built up again.

"You wanna know what my issue is? You are Timothée." I spat getting out of his car making my way to the front door of the building, he follows closely behind you.

"What the fuck could I have possibly done y/n!" He steps in front of me blocking the door to my apartment.

I look into his eyes, tears stinging my eyes daring to fall.

"Do you really not see? Are you that blind to the fact I am hopelessly in love with you and have been since we met?" I choke out. All he can do is stare at you mouth agape.

"Of course you are, watching you with other girls- watching you not love me back is so fucking heartbreaking Timothée. I am so tired of feeling this way."

You were finally unraveling before him. Small sobs escaping you as you open your door, you go to close it but he stops it walking in and closing it behind him, "Y/n-" He grabs your wrist "Please don't. Just go." You whisper not able to look at him, tears still streaming down your face, "Look at me." He says sternly, turning your face to his.

"I've been waiting to hear you say that since 7th grade." He cups my face, wiping the tears fallen, all I can do is just look at him.

"You have no idea how in love with you I am y/n." He backs me against the wall, his thumb running across my lips, eyes boring into mine.

"What took you so fucking long?" He whispers ghosting his lips over mine, I let out a small sigh and he closes the gap between us.

I wrap my arms around his neck and he grips the back of my head deepening the kiss, he bites my bottom lip softly, and I run my tongue across his slipping it into his mouth.

His hands make their way down my body snaking under your dress, he kisses my neck now groping both of your breasts, the sudden contact making you moan his name softly.

"I've dreamed about what you sound like." He lowly growls in your ear nibbling your lobe, twisting your nipples with his fingers.

"Fuck." I breathe out now fully aware of how bad my heat was tingling for him.

He moves from my breasts to my soaking folds, massaging my clit through my lace panties. I throw my head back stifling my moans trying not to seem so needy for his touch.

"Do you want me to touch you y/n?" He's hovering over my lips once again.

"Oh god, please-" It comes out as more of a desperate whisper.

He brings his middle and ring finger up to my mouth, urging me to suck on them never breaking eye contact. With his other hand he pulls my panties down leaving them around my ankles, he removes his fingers from my mouth running the wet digits over my bud of nerves- my breath hitching.

He gently slides one finger in making you shiver with pleasure.

"You're so fucking wet for me." He adds another finger, hooking them inside of me rapidly, rubbing my clit with his thumb making the moans leave me loudly.

"Oh my god please don't stop- uhh" You moan into his ear gripping his shirt tightly, closing your eyes.

He brings a hand up to your neck squeezing lightly, you feel your walls tighten around his long fingers and butterflies in your stomach.

"Look at me baby." He pushes deeper into my abyss as I release onto his fingers looking him in the eyes.

He picks me up bringing me to the bedroom laying me down gently, undressing you leaving my body completely bare.

Suddenly a wave of self conscious washes over me and I cover myself.

He hovers over me moving the hair from my face.

"You are so beautiful mon amour, you don't need to hide from me." He leans down kissing my neck.

I begin undressing him, palming his erection through his boxers.

"Fuck me." He hums as I discard his last piece of clothing, now fully jerking him off. I get brave and kiss down his chest all the way to his tip, licking around the tip and he moans uncontrollably grabbing a fistful of hair, I look up at him.

"I want you to fuck my pretty little mouth." I say as innocently as possible causing him to let out a breathy sigh.

I get on my knees as he stands up still holding my hair. I continue sucking the tip as he guides my head further and further down his thick length making me look him in the eyes.

"Fuck you're so beautiful like that." He moans out thrusting into the back of my throat making me gag.

"Take it all baby, you can do it. Be a good girl for me." He pants out throat fucking me.

I hold your breath trying not to gag as much and he pulls out, a thick string of saliva connecting my mouth to him. I try to catch my breath- a couple tears falling from my eyes.

He lays me back down on the bed spreading my legs, getting in between.

"If I'm cumming anywhere, it's gonna be in that pretty little pussy." He lines himself up with my throbbing entrance, rubbing the head against the soaking folds, purposely teasing me.

"Please Timmy." I whimper out unable to contain how bad I need him.

"Beg for it." He rubs my clit with his tip staring intently.

"I need you inside my tight little pussy-" I moan out, "Please fuck me baby, I want you to fill me up." I.huff out into his ear earning a moan from him.

He slowly enters my folds making me gasp from how he was stretching me out, definitely unaware he was hung like this. I grip at his back only able to release small squeaks as he slowly thrusts into me, caressing my body as he does so.

"God you're so fucking tight y/n." He moans out gradually picking up the pace.

I'm a moaning mess underneath him as he grips the back of my knee pulling one leg up to his chest, hitting that glorious spot.

"Fuck me right there Timothée- oh my god you feel so good." You almost scream moaning uncontrollably, "You're so fucking big."

He repositions himself to ram into me harder than before, rubbing my clit with his thumb, my legs twitch about and that same butterfly feeling starts building up in the pit of my stomach.

"Jouis por moi." (Come for me) He thrusts harder and faster.

"I-I'm gonna c-cum." I yell out digging my nails into his back, eyes rolling back.

"You look at me when you cum, do you hear me?" He grabs my chin forcing me to gaze into his eyes.

His mouth agape moans slipping out with every pump. I finally reach my high screaming his name, he continues rubbing my clit and making my legs convulse from the over stimulation. I squirt on him sending him over the edge as he fills my insides with his hot sticky cum moaning out my name.

He collapses on top of me breathing hard, I the same.

"You're all mine now." He growls kissing me passionately.

"You're all I'll ever need." I cup his face lovingly.

#Timothée #Timothee Chalamet #timothée chalamet #Timothee #timothee chalamet smut #timothee imagine #timothee chalamet imagine

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hanazou · 4 years

Text

matching onesies with him.

Books : Dazai | Chuuya | Oda

Shelf : Mixed

Genre : Fluff, domestic

Note : I did this of my own accord because I am, in fact, a softie

Dazai Osamu

This clingy crackhead.

Dazai will be the first to come up with the idea. It's actually a random one and he asked it so spontaneously, he doesn't expect you to actually say yes.

"Sure, why not?" You agreed.

He's both surprised and elated, and he didn't hide this reaction at all.

"Oh, darling!" He wrapped a hug around your neck. "You always revive my heart with your love!"

You both will be enthusiastic about picking the onesies and agree to surf the net instead of looking from shop to shop since Dazai is under the supervision of a certain angry Kunikida

It almost feels like babysitting. Not that you hate it right? Should you get an identical pair with different sizes? Or complementary ones?

Dazai will call the customer service to ask if they have black crow onesies since crows represent death in some cultures. The response is obviously no and it's obvious that the customer service was confused.

"That's a shame," Dazai whined disappointedly, shoulders dropping. "Wouldn't it be both cute and poetic if we had a double suicide while wearing matching crow onesie? Two achievements in one!"

At that point you wouldn't even be surprised anymore. You will just take the phone away from him to apologise and thank the customer service. You have to convince Dazai that you won't find a onesie of that kind

"Wait, don't tell me," You stared at him. "The reason you want to get onesies is just to wear a matching crow pair?"

"Is it?" He grinned mischievously. "Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong, but I just want to match with you."

Other ADA members will wonder what you and Dazai were doing, Kunikida the most. He isn't exactly curious, more like suspicious. What's that good-for-nothing Dazai up to now?

Eventually you find a pair of identical ones. Kind of rare designs too! Guess what?

Crabs! In red! The little eyes on the hood!

It will take less than a week for the onesies to arrive in a small box. When it does Dazai will pull out a cutter so energetically Atsushi will think he's going to pull a suicide attempt with it

"AAH! Dazai-san! No!"

Nothing will happen aside from Dazai stabbing the box (while making sure he doesn't cut the onesies inside. he's good with blades, ex Port Mafia and all)

The crab pincers for your hands are soft like mittens and so smooth???? Imagine sweaterpaws but with crab pincer mittens (!!)

It will take everything in you to stop Dazai from wearing it that instant since a client Fukuzawa talked about will be coming. You will need Atsushi's help to take it off him but let's not talk about it

Both of Dazai's legs are already in the onesie too..

It seems like Kyouka wants one. Yosano and Naomi will tell Atsushi to buy the girl one and match with her

When Dazai and you go home together, he will be so excited to wear the onesies immediately. Dazai will be light on his feet.

And when you finally put yours on? Pictures. Dazai will take lots of pictures of you. You're a piece of art and he wants pictures so he can recall the image anytime

"Oh, dearest~ How is it possible for you to be so cute?" He began his dramatic poses, a hand over his head while spinning like a ballet dancer.

You both will take a lot of couple pictures.

"Love, you are so adorable I want to eat you!"

"Is it me who's cute or the crab?" You teased back.

When Dazai makes a troubled expression to answer your question, you will have to pinch him 💢

If you can cook crab soup, wouldn't it be funny to make and eat one with Dazai while wearing crab onesies? He will be so clingy when you do it, like an old school married couple; when you cook, he'll be bugging you while hugging from behind. It feels cozy, don't blame him

You have to be keen with your eyes so you won't miss Dazai secretly pouring ajinomoto to the soup. Get him a healthier diet, I'm begging you.

"Look, the crab is red like us." He pointed at the soup. "And like your face when I do this." He took advantage of you turning your head to peck your cheek.

He will also pinch your nose with his pincer mitten. "Boop!" It's a challenge. Boop his nose back.

You think he's already as clingy as he can be, huh? Wrong. You are absolutely wrong. If he previously sticks around you like a magnet, this time he's glued to you.

Even in the shared living space, he won't let you go. Is it the softness of the onesie under his touch, the warmth, or your cuteness? Well, it's all of them. What then?

Snuggles.

You both cuddle together in the futon until falling asleep together. You feel twice as warm.

He's the big spoon, let him feel the smoothness of the onesie while feeling your heat. And for once, the double suicide joke stopped for the rest of day. That's how much this impacts him, and you're proud of him.

Nakahara Chuuya

Matching with Chuuhuahua in a onesie? You lucky fella.

You have to be the one initiating it with Chuuya. Baby boy will be like "Eeh?" at first. He's not against it at all but more like, confused. The request is out of the blue

"Come on, why not?" You tilt your head. "It will feel so soft to cuddle with?"

That's it, that's the spell for him to agree

Mans is a Port Mafia executive, you can't go out from shop to shop in a mall to get your onesie with his schedule, so you have to settle with online shopping with this guy too

Only when he has time to spare from beating up people

You will sit together on a couch at the headquarters once Chuuya and you don't have missions. It's a good chance to relax and unwind together too

Chuuya knows best where to find clothes, including onesies. There are so many options! Dinosaurs, frogs, bears, Sanrio characters, Doraemon, Pikachu, Line characters, pandas, unicorns, penguins!! (I should stop fantasizing Chuuya in each of them)

Chuuya will act cool and chill about it at first, but he actually got invested in choosing and thankfully he isn't a crackhead unlike a certain someone

He has a good fashion sense I don't accept criticism, and this side of him will jump out while both of you scroll the catalogue. He nails both street wear and mafia outfits daily, so you can bet he'd pick the best onesies for you both

"This one doesn't suit you," He moved to the next option. "These are the only colours available? Pass.", "What's with the unnecessarily long tail?", "Oh maybe this? Wait, I don't like the stripes."

Of course, he will listen to your opinion too but since you feel he's better at this, you just either nod or shake your head with him

You have to be careful with your words when picking the size (this is much more valid if you're taller) or he'll go "I'm not that short!"

Kouyou and Mori (+ Elise) will catch you both on the couch together while browsing, comfy and all, and Kouyou asked what you two were doing. Chuuya's face will be as red as wine.

When you want to explain, his gloved hand will cover your mouth and he frantically shakes his head, screaming "Don't!" silently.

But alas, while you want to tell him there's nothing to be embarrassed of, Kouyou will take the phone from your hand with a curious grin and a "What's this~?"

Chuuya will just accept fate at that point, growling to himself and all

Kouyou and Mori won't expect to see a catalogue of onesies, apparently. The "Huh," on their faces are hilarious, and Mori will be instantly inspired to get a full set for his Elise-chan, much to her distaste.

While Mori and Elise are going at it, Kouyou will actually share her opinions. Chuuya will crawl out from his burrow of embarrassment and listen to her with you.

"Rather than identical ones, these would be much better. They have variety." Kouyou said. And you both will agree. You both have been eyeing a specific pair anyway

You both will decide to get complementary ones! Chuuya's will be a brown teddy and yours a white bunny! (Try googling Line's Brown and Cony, they're cute you won't regret it) Kouyou will totally agree with the decision.

When the package arrives, both of you will open it together. Chuuya's eyes for clothes are never wrong, the quality is immaculate. So warm and smooth, not a seam out of place.

Imagine the blush on Chuuya's face when you put on the white bunny onesie. The bunny ears on the hood! The fluffiness! His flustered face!

He will be slightly hesitant to put his own on, but when he does, you swear you can die from the cuteness. Want to see more cuteness? Tease him about it, and maybe he'll tickle you down until you're too breathless to tease him.

Chuuya doesn't want to say it explicitly but it does feel really comfortable, it's suitable for winters too.

As usual, Chuuya will be the big spoon. You will melt into his warmth and the smoothness of his onesie, and you can tell he's enjoying it too, from the way he'll drag his hand all over you to feel the smooth fabric

"It's a good thing we listened to ane-san's suggestion, hm?" You asked. "I didn't exactly like the matching penguin pairs."

"Yeah, this isn't bad at all." Chuuya admitted, snuggling his chin into the crook of your neck. "You're so warm."

Oda Sakunosuke

First off I'm Odasaku's lover before I'm anything else.

When the weather gets cold, it's your idea to get onesies for the kids. They could use some cute onesies to sleep in.

Unlike Dazai and Chuuya, Odasaku will have time to spare to go shopping with you. Being the handyman of Port Mafia has its good sides, after all.

The atmosphere is identical to a date! You both meet up at evening after work, have a simple dinner first, then start the shopping. Shopping for the kids' onesies with him makes you feel like a parent doesn't it?

Odasaku and you will make sure not to pick flimsy, thin, or rough ones. Only the best for the kids. Both of you put your keen eyes to use, examining every considered piece

Odasaku and you will definitely discuss whether to get five identical or different ones. After considering that the kids have different personalities, choosing different pieces will sound more ideal. You both will grant them the liberty of picking themselves.

"We just have to make sure they don't fight over it." Odasaku said.

Lion, dinosaur, piglet, panda, and penguin. That's what you both will choose!

Odasaku is a man who doesn't wear his emotions on his sleeves, so you relied on his eyes when it comes to him. You will see love and sincerity. He picks each piece with careful consideration.

The store clerk will throw an unexpected (yet clichéd shoujo) question at you both. "You picked such good choices. We have sets for adults too, why not match with your children?"

Odasaku and you will widen your eyes. First of all, parents? And match? Both of you stare at each other in confusion. Should you get two get a pair for yourselves?

"Why not?" Odasaku eventually said.

Odasaku's will be a brown dog and yours a white cat (remember that one official art of Odasaku with puppy ears? <3)

Odasaku and you will immediately visit the kids and give them their onesies. Their excitement in picking one for their own made you smile, and you can see the joy in Odasaku's eyes when the kids thanked him and you. He doesn't smile, but you don't need him to just to know he's glad his children love your pick. The way he pats their heads already speaks volumes of love.

Thankfully no kid wrestled to get what they want. You were especially concerned Kousuke will compete with someone

Odasaku will bring a secondhand polaroid he once bought at Yokohama's flea market to take pictures of the kids. You will herd the children to gather for the picture while Odasaku looked for the right angle in the other side of the room.

"Why don't you stay there for the picture too?" Odasaku asked you, half of his face behind the camera.

You kneel behind the kids and put your hands on Sakura and Yuu's shoulders, the ones who stood on the far left and right. That much is enough to warm Odasaku's heart, but when you too, smile for the camera, he freezes for a while to take the sight with his eyes

The picture comes out nicely. You will end up convincing Odasaku to take more but with him in it, together, all seven of you. You would need the curry diner owner's help to take the picture

"Sakunosuke, smile, will you?" You held his shoulder while you both kneeled behind the kids for the picture. He would be a little stunned

He smiles, but it was faint. Nevertheless, you recognise the content in his eyes in the photo, and it's enough.

When it's just the two of you in the living quarters, you will have to remind Odasaku that he too, bought a onesie. He will gladly put it on him since you look so eager, he's curious how it feels too

Your heart stops when he put on the hood with the puppy ears. You will have to fight back the urge to attack him with cuddles right there and then when his confused and innocent face matches the onesie so much!

"You're adorable," You smiled half teasingly, taking in the look of confused Odasaku who looked down at his onesie. The weight of the material felt right, it's like a cozy blanket.

"Try to put yours on," He says. When you did, his heart also missed a beat. The kitten ears on your head! The pure snowy white on you!

Odasaku is a bear hugger and when he hugs you, his embrace will feel tighter than usual. It's no surprise, he likes you and cats, and the way you interacted with the kids that day played tricks on his heart. You hug him back and ruffle his head while he mumbles his thank-you's at you

That night's sleep will be filled with nothing but cuddles of love and adoration. Yes, Odasaku is the big spoon, but you will also hold his arms tighter around you as you both drift into the night, chatting about life.

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blueeyedgeorgie · 4 years

Text

Wide Awake-Dream Was Taken

A/N: Here’s Pt. 2 bitches. I hope you all enjoy ! Also, please go support and follow @notphilosopherstudentblog because she helped me out with this because she’s so intelligent. <3

Btw Title is based off Katy Perry’s song Wide Awake

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.5k+

_________

It was early. Too early for Y/n to be crying. But her she was, sitting in bed, clinging to one of Clay's old shirts. In the past, it was normal for her to steal a couple of his belongings. It was typical of Y/n to invite herself into his closet, taking whatever she wanted to wear, whenever she wanted. But now it just felt wrong.

There were only a few items left Y/n had that were his. She never washed this shirt, she had only worn it once. She could still remember the day she stole it.

"Y/n, you've got to be kidding," Clay turned in his desk chair. She had just walked out of his closet wearing an oversized grey t-shirt. "You're seriously going to leave me with five pieces of clothing."

She shot him a playful look, taking a moment to admire herself in the nearest mirror. "I'm sorry Mr. 15 million subscribers. You can always buy more clothes with all that money."

"Fine... it looks better on you anyway."

She had spent the rest of the day in his shirt. And by the end of the day, the scent of his laundry detergent was strong. For an odd reason, the t-shirt had spent weeks in the back of Y/n's closet, untouched. At least, until this morning.

All night she was toss and turning. It seemed impossible for her to get a moment of sleep, her mind had been racing. The only reason she wasn't able to sleep was because of one person; Clay. Their fight had played over and over again in her mind.

'But Y/n, I really do love you.'

There were so many different ways the night could've ended. But it was her fault it ended how it did. If only she hadn't asked for him to step out of the stupid restaurant with her. She didn't need to make a scene, but she still did. This was all her fault.

The sound of her phone buzzing had pulled Y/n away from the piece of fabric in her hands. Looking down at her nightstand, she glanced at the electronic. Wilbur was calling. With a sigh, hesitantly she reached for the phone.

"Hey, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

The brunette bit his lip at the sound of her voice. He could tell she had a rough night. "Are you doing alright?"

"I'm..." she paused, looking down at the shirt in her lap. "Yeah, I'm doing better."

"That's good to hear," For some odd reason, he was pacing. It wasn't normal for him to pace back and forth. He was already dressed for the day, wearing a set of brown pants with a creme button-up shirt. A pair of glasses rested on his face as he spoke. "George and I were hoping to go get some breakfast. Do you think you could show us somewhere good?"

"Yeah, I'm up for breakfast. What about Nick and Clay?" If Clay was coming, she didn't know what she'd do. There would be tension, but maybe she could find a way to patch everything up between them.

"Nick's going over to Clay's. They wanna have a bit of time together."

"Oh, okay... when do you guys wanna meet up?"

"Maybe 30 minutes to an hour?"

"An hour it is."

Before preparing to go out, Y/n had texted Wilbur a location point to meet up. It was a nice restaurant located in town, it had always been one of her favorite places to eat. George and Wilbur had gotten a table outside, it was nice out for a day in Flordia.

"Do you think she's gonna do it?"

Wilbur glanced across the table to George, "Honestly, probably not." He let out a sigh, " hope she agrees. I really do. But it's gonna be hard for her to let go. I just think it'd be better if they got some time away from each other."

"You're right. As good of friends they are, they need a break from each other." They both knew it wasn't a good idea for Y/n to stay in Flordia at the moment, she needed a moment away from Clay. So Wilbur had come up with an idea to get Y/n to take a break.

"What do you think of Elise?" Changing the subject, George leaned back in his chair. It was rare for Clay's girlfriend to come up in conversation. She seemed like such a touchy subject in the group. She was definitely a sweetheart, but it seemed like she appeared out of nowhere. The group had been planning future Dream SMP roleplay on a Discord call. It had been so brief when Clay mentioned her. 'Hey guys, I just wanted to mention I started dating somebody.' It was smart of George to hold his tongue because of what else Clay had to say. 'Her name is Elise and she's 19.'

Most of the group had expected Clay and Y/n to end up together. They were best friends who lived in the same town. There was constant flirting going on between them. And not to mention Y/n had always been there to support Clay through the bad and good.

"Hey, guys!"

Both of the British men were pulled out of their thoughts by the sound of her voice. Y/n was quick to take a seat by Wilbur. "Have we ordered yet?"

"No actually, we've been waiting for you." George fixed his posture, his classic grin appeared on his face. "Got any recommendations for drinks?"

"My go-to has to be a mimosa and the eggs benedict."

The knock came as a surprise, but there were a lot of surprises happening this morning. Clay had woken up earlier than usual. Naturally, he'd get up around 9 or 10, but today he woke at 7. He couldn't go to bed for a few more hours, his mind wouldn't quit racing with thoughts. He had ended up skipping breakfast, he wasn't hungry today. It was normal for him to eat something, he always woke up starved. The early knock was the cherry on top of the cake of the surprises happening today.

"Hey Nick, what are you doing here?" Clay glanced behind his friend, looking for any sign of the rest of his friends. Originally, they had planned to meet up later that afternoon at his place. "I thought you were coming by at noon?"

Nick stood on the porch, burying his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was early in the morning, yet it was already warm outside. "Yeah, sorry I didn't ask if I could come by earlier. I just wanted some time alone with you."

"Cool, make yourself at home," Stepping aside, the blonde opened the door a bit wider for his friend. "Sorry it's a bit messy, I was planning to clean up before you guys showed up."

The pair had made their way to Clay's living room. It was nice, but still a bit messy just as he said. As the blonde began to pick up after himself, the pair had a bit of small banter.

"Is Elise gonna come by this afternoon?" Nick watched as Clay picked up a couple of items sitting on the coffee table.

"Uh, no. I think she had work today."

"Oh, what about Y/n?"

Clay tensed, pausing for a second. She had been on his mind a lot since the last time he saw her. The way she looked at him... it hurt. It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. This morning she was all he could think of. He missed her good morning texts, the way she'd update him about little situations happening in her schedule, when she would randomly face time him just to say: 'I wanted to see your stupid face because I missed it.'

"I... she's not coming."

"Why's that?"

"You know why, Nick." Clay let out a sigh, taking a seat on the couch. He didn't know what he could do, he was the one who messed everything up. If he tried to apologize, he might even piss Y/n off even more. She had always been a hardass about being hurt or betrayed, it was hard for her to give people a second chance. "I don't even think she knows we're all planning to meet up later today."

"Dude... it's weird seeing you two like this. It feels wrong." The two friends looked at one another, it seemed like Nick could tell exactly what Clay was thinking. 'It is wrong.'

"I miss her. But I was also the one who fucked everything up by ignoring her for weeks."

"Why'd you even do that?"

"Because I fell in love with her. I was scared she didn't feel the same. So I distanced myself and looked for someone to start a relationship with. That's why I met Elise."

"Clay... you're an idiot."

"I know."

Turning, Wilbur looked at Y/n. She was halfway finished with her meal. Everything was going great, she seemed so happy just to be able to talk with two friends. It seemed like the best time to spring the idea on her.

"Hey, Y/n?"

"Yes, Wilbur?"

He bit his lip, glancing at the man sitting on the other side of the table. George gave a brief nod, knowing what was going to happen next. "George and I had an idea we'd like to share with you."

"What is it?"

"You know how you've been talking about how you've always wanted to visit us in London?"

"Yeah..."

Wilbur paused, looking back at George for a second. "Well, we were thinking... I have a free room in my place. Why don't you spend one of two months with me just to see how you like London?"

Y/n's face lit up. "That sounds great, Wilbur. I... wow. That sounds so fun!" She paused, her smile disappeared. "But what about my house? I can't just abandon it for a month."

Wilbur bit his lip, 'Shit.'

"Clay can stop by once a week, just to make sure everything's fine. I'm positive he'll do it for you," George was quick to jump into the conversation. As soon as he mentioned Clay, Wilbur shot him a look. Y/n tensed at the sound of his name.

"Listen Y/n, you don't have to do it. Just keep the idea in mind, you can give me an answer before George and I leave."

"Okay..." Y/n bit her lip, looking at her food. She knew the only right answer was yes, but it was going to be hard to talk to Clay about this. "I think... I think I wanna do this. I wanna go with you guys."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, but... just give me some time to think it over."

"We're always here for you, Y/n. No pressure." Wilbur placed a hand on Y/n's. He wanted her to come to London, everything would be better. He cared a lot about Y/n, he really did. He just wanted to see her happy.

"I just want her to be happy," Clay let out a sigh, opening the refrigerator door. His eyes skimmed over what there was, he had gone grocery shopping the other day to plan for today. He still wasn't hungry.

"Everything's gonna get-" Nick paused, he was interrupted by the sound of Clay's phone ringing. There was a moment of silence as the blonde closed the refrigerator, approaching his phone on the kitchen counter.

"It's Y/n."

"What?"

"Do I pick it up?" Clay glanced at his friend.

"yes, yes, yes! Do it!"

Clay was quick to pick up the phone, putting it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey, Clay."

"Hey, Y/n."

"Do you..." she paused, "Do you have a moment to talk?"

"Yeah, I can talk." Clay leaned against the counter, listening to her intently. It had only been a few days, but he missed her voice. He could tell she was down.

"I know this seems like the wrong time to be asking for favors and everything, considering everything that has happened this last week. But... I need your help with something." She paused again. He could tell she was hesitating, as though something was keeping her back. "I think I'm gonna be gone for a while. And I just need someone to check up with my house every couple of days. Could you do that? It's fine if you don't want to, it was a stupid idea of me to ask you anyways-"

"No, yeah. Of course, I'll check up on your house for you, Y/n." He was quick to cut her off. The last thing he wanted was for her to think she couldn't turn to him for help anymore. "And it's not stupid of you to ask me. I'll always be here if you need something or need help."

She scoffed, "You weren't there for me these past few weeks." She stopped herself again for the third time. "I'm sorry, that was really bitchy of me."

"I deserved it," he could only chuckle. Y/n was still herself. "But yeah, is there anything else you need... or want to talk about?"

"I... no. No, that's it. I guess I'll talk to you... eventually."

"Alright," Clay fought back the urge to let out a disappointed sigh. "I'll see you." Without saying goodbye, she hung up the phone. He didn't know what to expect next, he wasn't even sure whether this was a step in the right direction or not.

Staring at the box, Y/n felt herself tear up for the hundredth time this week. This was going to be a hard task to complete, but it was going to help her let go.

Walking around the house, Y/n picked up item by item. Anything that belonged to Clay was going in the box. A few t-shirts, a couple of CDs she stole, one of his coffee cups. Y/n wasn't even sure how the cup had gotten to her house, but she knew it belonged to Clay. All of her coffee cups matched, all the same color and shape. But... this one cup had shown up in her pantry one day. Every time Clay had spent the night, he'd start the morning off with a cup of coffee, only using that cup.

At this point, Y/n was picking up items that held too strong memories of him. The box had quickly filled, it felt strange. It seemed like she had just lost a chunk of her house. Of her life. This needed to happen. This was the only way they'd be able to keep their friendship.

Y/n had agreed to come to London with Wilbur, she was finally fully on board. Two suitcases sat by her front door as she waited for Wilbur and George to arrive. She would only be in Florida for a few more hours, she needed to give this box back to him. Maybe she could just say screw it, leave it here under her bed, hidden away. So when she'd return she'd be comforted by his shirts and hoodies, she'd listen to his songs and cry.

No. She couldn't do that. If she did that she wouldn't be letting go of everything. Y/n needed closure, it'd be the best for them both and she knew it. Pulling her out of her thoughts, Y/n heard a knock on her door. It was time.

"Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur." Y/n smiled, embracing her friend in a hug as soon as she opened the door.

"George is in the car. We got coffee too." Wilbur looked down at her, his arms still wrapped around her waist, holding her close. "You're positive you want to do this?"

"Yes, I need to."

"Alright, then. I'll support you with whatever decision you make." He finally stepped aside, moving to grab her suitcases. Y/n grabbed the box, she had moved it into the hallway before greeting Wilbur. With one more glance, she looked down her hallway before closing the door. As soon as her home was locked up, Y/n had dropped her keys into the box. This was going to be the final step before London. Giving it all back.

George and Y/n greeted each other, Y/n giving him a quick hug before entering the car. The rest of the time, the car ride was quiet. There was obviously going to be tension. On their way, Y/n kept thinking to herself about what she was going to say. What if she fucked it all up? What if they broke out into another fight?

"Here we are."

Y/n sucked in a breath, looking over at the familiar house. This was the final step.

"Y/n, do you need either of us to walk up with you?" Wilbur spoke, he noticed the way she looked at the house.

She shook her head. "No, I got this..." Stepping out of the car, there were only a few words she'd repeat to herself. 'This is the final step. This is the final step. This is the final step.' It felt like it took forever for her to reach his porch.

As soon as she was face to face with the wooden door, she was quick to hit the doorbell. She just wanted to get this over with, fast. A few moments passed, and just as she reached to hit the doorbell again, she stepped back. The door was opening.

"Y/n?" Clay yawned, his hair was a mess. It was obvious she had just woken him up. "What are you-"

"It's time for me to go now. I'm sorry for waking you up. Here are my keys and a few of your items in case you wanted them while I was-"

"Woah, woah, woah." He interrupted her, rubbing his eyes. "Slow down, you're talking fast. You're leaving? Right now?"

"I..." she sighed. "Yeah, I am."

"And this..." he looked down at the box in her hands. "They're all mine?"

"Yeah, that's kinda the whole point." She gave him a look, "Considering the box says your name."

"Alright... thank you," he nodded, carefully picking the box up from her. "How long are you gonna be gone?"

"I'm not sure. I just know I have to go."

"Why?"

"Because of us, Clay. It'd be better for both of us. We need time apart. We have so much going on in each other's lives. I just need a break."

He watched her, she looked close to tears. Without thinking, Clay pulled his friend into his embrace, holding her close. "I understand. Take as much time as you need. I'll be here."

"Thank you."

The hug was short, Y/n was the first to pull away. As soon as it was over, she muttered a quick goodbye, hurrying back to the car. When the car door shut, Wilbur was quick to jump to asking questions.

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? You're completely sure you want to do this?"

"I'm fine, Wilbur."

"Alright, I just wanted to check." Wilbur paused, looking out the window. "Y/n, would you mind if George and I said our goodbyes to Clay?"

"Go ahead, I'm not the boss of you."

Sitting in the car alone, Y/n got a moment to catch her breath and stop the tears from forming. She did it. She completed the final step. She could do whatever she wanted now. The moment alone in the car felt short, George and Wilbur were back in the car in what felt like seconds. Only, Wilbur sat in the back with Y/n, George driving by himself.

"You ready, Y/n?"

"More than anything." Y/n looked at Wilbur, the way he smiled at her just felt... good. Looking down, she noticed Wilbur gently grabbing her hand in his. She smiled, things were going to start getting good for her, she knew it.

"Wow okay, now I just feel like a driver for you two." George shot a dirty look in the mirror.

"A bad driver," Y/n grinned at her friend. "Start moving, Mr. colorblind." "If I get a ticket for running a red light, I'm blaming you."

With a yawn, Y/n opened her eyes. She had another good night of sleep, it had been weeks since she had a bad night of sleep. For eight months, she had lived in London. At this point, her house in Flordia was sold to a family of three, and she was no longer flatmates with Wilbur. Instead, she was his girlfriend.

Turning over, she faced the beautiful brunette. He was still asleep. She owed him everything. She was now an influencer because of him, he had helped her set up her YouTube channel and introduced her to the fans. He thought it'd be a good job for her, considering how she was a social butterfly and carry conversations.

Clay and Y/n didn't interact as much as they use to. They'd interact on the Dream SMP and over social media. But it was rare for them to speak in private. The only way their relationship got better was by them distancing themselves. What was a beautiful friendship had turned into an acquaintanceship. Clay was still dating Elise, but it seemed like things weren't going the best and there were signs of him planning to break up with her soon.

Wilbur peeked an eye open, looking at his girlfriend. "Morning, Y/n."

"Morning, Wilbur."

Y/n smiled, she knew she was right. Everything got better for her. After all, When the rain ends, there will always be a rainbow.

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straydawg-writing · 4 years

Text

𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖊𝖙-𝖒𝖊-𝖓𝖔𝖙

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ.

• bungo stray dogs series

chapter 3: 𝖉𝖆𝖋𝖋𝖔𝖉𝖎𝖑 — 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌

✥ ⊱ ────── ♔ ────── ⊰ ✥

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

┊ ┊ ┊ ✫ ˚✩

┊ ┊ ✫

┊ ┊

┊ ⊹ ☪︎⋆

✯ ⋆

˚✩

"COME IN."

it nearly took all of kita's might to push open the monstrous gothic-styled doors of the boss' office. as of late, mori had been assigning her more and more tasks that she readily accepted. she had nothing else to do, no other reason to live, except for dedicating herself to the port mafia.

daylight emanated from a long wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, brightening up the dark space and shining on the royal maroon carpet. ahead of her sat the boss, in all of his dignity and glory.

"you called?" kita began, standing tall when she spoke.

mori was not a man she wanted to appear frail in front of. kita was confident she would win over his trust and respect in due time, and was determined not to waste the chance he had given her when he had taken her in. as a woman in the port mafia, she had to work harder than anyone else to be taken seriously. many believed that she didn't belong there, but she was okay with that. after all, kita had no intention of being mixed with juvenile delinquent men.

"you did well on your last job. but of course, you know that i can't have you rest and let that eager spirit rot away."

"i'd expect that, boss. what did you have in mind?" kita asked, twiling a strand of black hair between her fingers.

"this job involves retrieving the marcello family's confidential files. they've attempted hiding a business of money laundering despite our... how should i say this? our 'small' warning example. the mission should be easy enough."

the sound of tall double doors parting open echoed throughout the room and interrupted kita's response. she felt the presence of someone else coming in, stopping only when they were right next to her.

"hey, boss."

"nice to see you dazai," mori greeted the boy, intertwining his hands and resting them on his desk.

dazai was here. why did she suddenly feel butterflies, when not even meeting the port mafia boss stirred nerves like these within her?

"i don't understand. if the mission is so easy, what is he doing here?" kita glanced his way, startled when she saw him staring back.

"did i forget to mention? although just one person is needed to steal the item, this mission requires two people. the marcello family enjoys their parties. you'll be infiltrating their next one, as an unsuspecting couple."

everything slowed down. kita was sure she misheard, mori's last words hanging on his lips and repeating in her mind like a mantra. go as a couple?

you could ask her to kill an army of men and it would be simpler than this. she had only just met him last night –no– it would be easier if she didn't know him at all.

"is that agreeable with you, kita?"

it wasn't like she had a choice, a job was an order in disguise. mori had that same look on his face that he pulled whenever he was picking out a new babydoll dress for elise. the man was up to something, and she wasn't sure how to feel.

"sounds good to me!" dazai answered for her, shoving his hands in his pockets.

then it was settled. looking towards the bandaged boy, kita shook off her wariness and cracked a smile. she wouldn't mind getting to know him better.

"alright. how bad could it be?"

kita's mirror reflection stared back at her, beauteous and sweet. a silk black dress hung daintily on her hips, and a laced corset traced her curves. ringlets of jet-black hair spilled over her collarbones, the midnight shades creating a striking contrast with her ivory pearl skin that was spellbinding. she sighed as she closed the drawer which held her lipstick. despite her natural desire to stand out in a crowd, kita knew that tonight she would be dressing to blend in. still, she couldn't help but ask herself in the back of her mind if she was dressing to impress.

'it's just a mission. just a mission. just a mission,' she told herself as she twisted open the doorknob of her room. little did she expect to see the man himself, standing right outside of her bedroom door.

"how long have you been standing there?" she rested her hand on her hip, pursing her lips.

"from my perspective, it looks like you were the one waiting for me to get here," dazai said, holding out a single red camellia flower.

"'you're a flame in my heart', huh?" kita observed, taking the flower in her pale hands.

"is that a confession?" he asked, with a cheeky grin.

oh, so he's a flirt.

"that's just what the flower means, stupid."

she took this chance to take in the sight of him. his hair was the same as always –tousled chocolate locks falling over his sweetly intense brown eyes– and you were glad he hadn't changed it. dazai's usual bandages were covered up by the sleeves of his black slate tux. the suit looked made for him, fitting his body perfectly in every crevice. you had to admit, dazai looked a little bit handsome.

"i know, i asked chuuya. who knew he spoke flowers too? although... he did try starting a fight in the middle of the courtyard, calling me an 'enemy of all women,'" dazai pouted, making finger quotations before he quickly changed moods again. it was something she had noticed he seemed to do often. his playful eyes were now dripping with a more flirtatious undertone.

"the boss ordered us to personate two fiances madly in love. so... let's play the part, shall we?" dazai mischievously bowed down to her height, gently taking kita's small hand in his and leaving a kiss on her smooth skin. he knew he had caught her in his trap- she couldn't argue with the boss himself.

kita let out a small exhale, interlacing his hands with her own.

"fine, you win. but drop the 'madly in love.'."

"mr. and mrs. iwazaki-to-be?" the doorman asked for confirmation, with a paper and quill to cross off guest names.

"that's us!" dazai enthusiastically expressed with an arm around kita, placing a kiss on her temple to sell the act.

the doorman, who seemed to be in his late sixties, looked up from his paper and sent the pair a warming smile.

"i miss my girl every day... congratulations." he held up his ring finger to show them, and motioned for them to join the party. "enjoy the night!"

the pair entered the party through a towering marbled creme archway. space had opened up to accommodate a grand scene of painted people with most likely debatable motives, drinking from their champagne glasses and dancing to a luxurious orchestra. a waft of expensive colognes and perfumes flooded their senses. it smelt like the rich. businessmen stroke deals, wives exchanged the newest slice of gossip, and old men watched from the sidelines, whistling for girls in their royal dresses of all colors.

kita suddenly developed an appreciation for not having come alone. the fake engagement ring decorating her ring finger marked her as claimed. in other words: kept the old, perverted, corrupted politicians away. not as if she couldn't beat them to a pulp if need be.

a large marble staircase that matched the entrance winded the perimeter of the main floor, leading up to the room which held their files. but for now, their foremost concern was appearing ordinary, becoming like everybody else of the night. to play the part of the happy-go-lucky-couple-in-love.

the boss had asked her first. this was her mission.

grabbing dazai by the chin who was distracted by the red-velvet cupcakes on display, kita turned his face down to look at her.

"dance with me."

"okey. but yowr sqwuisching mey fasce," dazai replied, face indeed squished as his lips were forced into a pout. she let go with a grin, satisfied with his response.

maneuvering through men in studded suits and women in extravagant dresses that took up half of the floor, a new waltz had begun by the time she pulled him onto the dance floor with her.

"i forgot to tell you earlier, but you clean up really nicely, dazai." kita commented, her arms loosely tangled around his neck.

they turned elegantly, in tune with the slow music, and standing closer than ever before. kita could feel his breath on her skin as he held her waist. this close to him, his natural scent was intoxicating. he was rich, like caramel. a breath of fresh air from the sea of headache-inducing colognes. if by the end of this dance, her breath was taken away, she would know why.

"you look... irresistible," dazai's eyes widened slightly. he kept his attention on her as he whimsically guided the girl across the dance floor, taking her anywhere he pleased– and she let him. no matter what dazai did, he always had the same fanciful air about him. even now, she felt he was taking her into a dream.

the warmth between them continued to increase, along with their rising heartbeats, until the song had faded into the distance and the only thing that mattered was their steps in sync, their breathing one.

'it's all an act.'

"let's find a room upstairs," he whispered in her ear, pulling her out of the crowd and up the staircase once the song had ended.

any guests attending the event were too engrossed in their own party and pleasure to notice them disappear. from where kita stood, she could see them all dancing like porcelain dolls in a make-believe show.

"this one." dazai pointed, opening a door with a plaque that read, 'j. marcello's office.'

time was of the essence, and yet dazai didn't seem the least bit concerned as he strolled over to the mahogany desk that sat underneath a window. he opened one drawer in particular with a mass of cigarettes the owner had never bothered throwing out, and tossed them all into the trash can.

"if he wants to meet his end with an insufferable death, this'll do it." dazai tsked and shook his head as he tossed another one behind him and scored. "couldn't ever be me..."

"don't you think he'll notice?"

"he'll also notice when his papers are gone. i'm simply doing him a favor~" dazai chuckled.

kita was digging through files and trying to distract herself from the taller male as much as possible, ever since the dance they shared so intimately lingered in her mind. she was so distracted that she didn't hear the sudden sound of a door opening, and just as quickly as the door opened, she had been pulled into dazai's embrace and leaned over the desk.

his soft lips crashed into hers, causing an obvious expression of surpise as she felt his warm hands riding up the side of her face, the other arm leaning on the desk behind her and trapping her underneath him– but she guessed it was only to give the mysterious person the wrong idea.

she only hesitated for a moment before kissing him back, going along with the act as she pulled on his tie to regain her balance. the kiss barely lasted about five seconds, but to kita it felt like an eternity. his kiss was so sudden she had already ran out of breath and was running on nothing at all but his own oxygen.

"s-sorry! you can't be in here!" an embarrassed voice called out, shutting the door as soon as it had opened.

when the door had closed, dazai swiftly released his hold on her.

"all that and still no files," he sighed, scratching his head.

"you sure about that?" kita smirked, running her tongue over the lingering taste of sugar-coated lips. peaking from behind her back was a folder that she had stolen from the drawer's hidden compartment.

"kita! oh i could kiss you," dazai's mouth opened in childish awe. if this were an animation, his eyes would have sparkled.

"you already did. guess you couldn't resist huh?"

"aren't you the one who kissed me back?" he raised an eyebrow.

"touché," she clicked her tongue, rolling the folder and hiding it in her bra while walking out of the room with dazai in tow.

"wow, you can fit that in there?" he pondered out loud.

"of course i ca-" she began, before being cut off by a horde of men in black suits, guns pointed.

"IT'S THEM! don't even TRY letting them escape," a voice boomed, with a round of gunshots firing all around them soon after.

kita sighed, uninterested in the new turn of events. she could use her ability now, but it wasn't worth it. they had gotten what they came for, so whatever happened now was of no concern to her. dazai slowly turned around, eyes coming to an emotionless standstill as he allowed the bullets their chance to plunge into him, but always missing.

"geez, your aim sucks." kita stated, pulling her own knife out of a leg garter that hid underneath her dress and sending it piercing through the cheeks of a full line of men.

they dropped, guns casting across the floor. dazai blankly considered them before picking one up for himself.

"i hope you don't mind if i borrow this," he drawled, flipping it over in his hands before stretching out his arm in front of him and shooting the men left. he aimed to kill.

with that taken care of, kita bent down and plucked her knife out of the unfortunate victim's flesh. she wiped it off on the fabric of her black dress.

"p-please. don't kill me," the timid cry of a sole survivor pleaded for his life.

he was bowed to the ground, blood seeping through his suit and making it an impossibly darker shade of vantablack. what a shame he still lived.

with one look from dazai who lazily reached a hand for a crimson-red cupcake, he aimed and shot with the other.

the party was all but dead now.

in the midst of the bloodbath, dazai had taken a bite out of the dessert, and now white frosting dusted the tip of his nose like snowflakes. using her thumb, kita wiped the icing away and licked the sweetness off of her finger.

"hey!"

"you took too long to eat it!" she explained after stealing the cupcake away from him, eating the rest of it as as they stepped out from the bloodied marble walls and into the black of the darkened night.

｡✣✤✥━━━━━━━━━━━━✥✤✣｡

❝𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙾𝙻𝚈𝙿𝚂𝙴❞

1:05 ──♡────── 2:53

|◁ II ▷|

— ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ, ᴍʏ ʟɪᴘꜱ, ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘꜱᴇ

ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ, ᴍʏ ʟɪᴘꜱ, ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘꜱᴇ

｡✣✤✥━━━━━━━━━━━━✥✤✣｡

#bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs fanfiction #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x oc #dazai x oc #bsd fanfic #bsd fanfiction #mafia!dazai x reader #mafia!dazai fanfiction

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