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docockbrainrot · 3 years

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i think i want you (to leave)

Summary: We’re all running from something. Sometimes, metaphorically. Sometimes, literally. Literally running, from the very strangely hypnotizing supervillain that seems hellbent on ruining every bit of your life he can get all eight of his limbs on.

Pairing: Doc Ock X Reader/ Otto Octavius X Reader

Content: Slow Burn, NSFW eventually, 18+

AO3 link here.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 5

anathema// former vandal

The next several days are an uneventful blur. You barely leave your apartment, except for brief dog walks and grabbing food from the bodega across the street.

It’s 9 pm on Saturday and you’re fresh out of the shower, tucked away in a very fuzzy robe, lounging on the couch and watching YouTube on your television. You almost miss the subtle taptaptaptap sound coming from your window, you're so engrossed in the cooking show you’ve been binging. Gotta fill the void somehow, right?

You can’t see anything outside from where you’re sitting. The lights are on and make it impossible to peer through the reflections on the glass. Maybe it’s a bird. Or a branch is caught on the fire escape. Either way, you certainly can’t be assed to check it out and you take another sip of your chamomile tea- you’ve been trying everything under the sun, just about short of literally snorting lines of melatonin, to try to sleep better at night. Nothing’s been working. But you have been making a very valiant effort.

A few moments go by and you forget all about the window disturbance until,

TAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP.

It’s jarring. It’s loud. Above all else, it’s annoying. Chekov spares you a look, like you’re the one making a racket. Effectively exasperated, you make an effort to set, not slam, down your mug, feeling decidedly not Calm and Relaxed as the tea promised. Suppose it’s not miracle shit though, is it? You would not be a good candidate for a horror movie because you fearlessly storm over to the window and throw it open (it wasn’t locked in the first place; you’re quite terrible at remembering to). You stick your head out and glower at whatever irritating mischief is happening out here, ready to rip the fire escape off the side of the brick building.

You’re greeted by something cold and hard (and indubiously metal, judging by how it felt against your sternum) shoving you back into your apartment, sending you sprawling unceremoniously to the hardwood floor. A string of profanities ready to leave your tongue, you sit up and adjust your robe in an attempt to preserve a modicum of your modesty. The rant dies in your throat as red eyed claws grip the threshold of your pre-war window and it’s almost comical the way He maneuvers himself in, far too large to be making these sorts of entrances. Standing up to his full height before you while you’re still sitting dumbfounded on the floor reminds you of just how impressively built he is. You manage to pick your jaw up, but your ass remains firmly planted on the wood.

“Uh… you could have just used the buzzer, dude. I have a front door, you know,” you sputter out, brain blitzing in pretty much every way possible. Your thoughts are racing and eventually they settle on the most important thing you can think to ask in that moment: “... Why aren’t you wearing a shirt.” You can't help the way your eyes are drawn to his broad chest, gaze lingering on the vast scarring that spills out from the metal contraption clamped around his midsection.

Otto very graciously closes the window behind himself. Or at least his little robot accomplices do it for him. You still aren’t sure what’s going on with that- the whole AI thing. Not even a blip on your radar of concerns at this point. “Didn’t want anyone to see me come in. Your building has a camera on the front, facing the street.”

“That’s why you’re shirtless?” You ask dumbly. Interesting method of camouflage. “What? No- what? It doesn’t matter- listen to me. I need you to do something for me. A small favor.”

He doesn’t seem to notice the compromised position he put you in. Typical. Gathering up your broken pride, you get up and tighten the tie of your robe a bit. It isn’t until then that he has the decency to look a smidge embarrassed and you hope you didn't just give him a free show on your way to getting to your feet. “You literally just broke into my apartment and now you’re asking for a favor? We barely know each other!”

“Less complicated when there's nothing personal involved yet, plus- you let me in,” he corrects you. You wish he would stop doing that. You wish he would stop meeting with you like this, under weird and mysterious circumstances. Even though it's only been like twice. You're already over it.

“You threw me across the room!”

“Touche.”

Otto does not apologize and you did not sincerely expect him to. The look on his face reads more like the cat that got the canary than regretful. You feel as though you’ve come to recognize that expression on his face and you also feel as though you don’t much like the fact that you’ve enough encounters with this man that you can recognize a damn thing about him. “What… could you possibly need me to do for you? I am not robbing a bank.” You just want to get that out into the open as soon as possible.

“I don’t need your help robbing a bank,” he snorts as if the idea is preposterous and you take a moment to feel insulted. Wow. Okay. You could totally rob a bank if you wanted to. Deciding to not comment on your wounded ego, you let him get to the point. Otto pulls something out of his inner coat pocket. It's some kind of rolled up paper and you think at first maybe it's a newspaper or magazine. He unfurls it onto the coffee table and holds it open with two metal claws on either side so it doesn't ravel itself back up.

You realize it's a blueprint. "This is… Oscorp," you point out stupidly, brow furrowing in confusion. There's levels to what's happening here. Layers upon layers, melding together with rot and decay and you can all but smell it. But there's something missing, something that would tie all of the wackjob shit that's been happening to you and around you together. It feels like when you have a very particular thought and then walking into another room makes it dissolve from your head. You're trying to grasp for it, to fit the puzzle pieces together, but it's just out of reach.

"Yes. It is. I have a small task I need you to do," Otto starts off, metal phalanges pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head as he looks over at you. For the first time, you can see his eyes in the light. The warm amber feels like a mockery- you have seen his cruelty in action.

"Where did you get this?"

"Does it matter?" Of course he'd say that.

Your fingertips brush against the metaphorical wayward chain link. It's right there. You just have to grab it and pull it back to you, like the anchor of a ship before it can set sail.

He's talking. You aren't listening. He's tracing a finger over the schematics. You don't see it. Realization washes over you in a heart-dropping tsunami. The voicemail you got from Oscorp plays like a broken record in your mind. 'Hello, Y/N. We're calling in regards to your employment status here at Oscorp. Unfortunately, due to a breach of security, we are having to make staffing cuts and are going to have to let you go. We appreciate your time and effort and wish you the best of luck in your next endeavor.' It didn't make sense at the time. A lot of things didn't. You replay the scene of poor David, desperately pleading for his life at the hands of the man hunched over here, just in your living room. You mentally re-run it over and over like bad 80s sitcoms on late night television.

"Lab Coat Guy…"

You don't realize you whispered it out loud until Otto goes silent.

"What?"

You slowly look at him and take a single step backwards, shaking your head. The company embroidered on David's lab coat hadn't been clear to you in the moment- but it's crystal in hindsight. Oscorp. "You got me fired." Your tone is flat, until anger flashes through you, like a streak of lightning through a dark, moonless sky, illuminating all of things that didn’t make sense before.

"It doesn't matter. What I need you to do-" He's so nonchalant, so blasé that it only stokes the embers of frustration until there's a roaring blaze burning beneath your skin. It's all about him, what he needs, what he wants. He has the nerve, the audacity, to keep traipsing into your life, kicking you while you're down and then ask for favors? You want to say all of that to him but unfortunately for you, you're an angry crier. Your outburst of bravery at him the last time you saw each other had surprised even you- but now there's so much more emotion roiling around inside you.

"No. No, no. Fuck you. You got me fired! I can't- I can't not have a job, I have to pay rent! You could get me arrested for just talking to you!" Oscorp had you canned to tie up any potential loose ends before anymore Davids could slip through the cracks. You think about how scared the poor dude must have been, threatened into stealing blueprints from the biggest corporation in the city, for one of the most infamous criminals. You don't know how they found out you were even remotely involved and you don't want to know.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks and once the floodgates have opened you're very familiar with how long it's going to take to close them again. After all you've been bottling this up since you found out, too disappointed to even tell any of your friends or family.

Otto appears taken aback, to say the least. He even looks like he's at a loss for words; that's a first. You know he could kill you where you stand in the blink of an eye, but in that moment you don’t even care. You’ve been trying so hard for so long to get on your feet, to do things for yourself and get away from the past. You moved across the country, you left everything behind, you got a damn dog. It seems like every time you manage to take a step forward in life, you’re knocked flat on your ass, apparently literally sometimes. It isn’t fair. Things don’t come easily to you, you’ve always had to work for them. You aren’t wealthy, you aren’t a supergenius, you’re just… you. The job at Oscorp was good money and you really felt like you were getting your shit together for a while.

“They’re not who you think they are,” he says finally, so calmly, with such carefulness about his words, that you sniffle pathetically and look up at him. He doesn’t look nearly as pleased with himself as you thought he might. And here you’ve been, under the impression that he gets off on hurting people. “Oscorp. I’m not… I’m not just doing this for me. You have to understand that.”

The schematics are furled up and tucked away. You make the mistake of meeting his eyes. Maybe it’s just the tears that blur your vision, but you swear you see a softness there before they’re hidden away again by his glasses.

He lingers at the window.

“I hope you’ll reconsider.” And then he was making his exit, even taking care to gently close the window on the way out. But he raps on the glass with his knuckles from where he stands on the fire escape and you know the look of confusion on your tear-streaked face speaks for itself. Otto points to the latches on the window. ‘Lock it.’ He mouths before he’s gone, presumably to wreak havoc and harass other unsuspecting young women that don’t want anything to do with him.

You thought everything had come together- but the more sense you make of it, the less you seem sure of the bigger picture. You aren't even sure exactly what he wanted you to do.

You’re left with an endless bounty of questions, and not enough answers to satisfy any of them.

#otto octavius x reader #doc ock x reader #fanfiction #otto octavius #doc ock

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mizunetzu · 4 years

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Mr Mizunetzu’s secret Santa! Kita x reader - cold, cold observations (he loves me so it’s okay)

( @luv-hqs hi HAHA!! I was ur secret Santa >:) Funny story, I accidentally deleted the ask you gave me that had your preferences, but I vaguely remember there being a “Kita” and “angst” LMAO SO I ROLLED WITH THAT TELL ME IF I GOT IT WRONG BUT HEY YALL GET UR FIRST INARIZAKI FIC FROM ME )

⚠️warnings - ANGST? Unintentionally cold Kita baby doesn’t mean it I swear, sad ending

Pronouns - male, he/him

you can find part two here!

——————

“I like you, Kita-kun! Please, please go out with me!”

(Y/n) thrusted himself into a sharp, 90 degree bow, squeezing his eyes shut and balling his hands up into fists, planted firmly against his sides. Kita looked down at him.

“Sure.”

“Wh-“ (Y/n’s) head tossed up, his (h/c)-colored hair whipping back as he did so. “Really?”

Kita nodded. “I like you too, so I don’t see why you’re so surprised. People date people who they like, right?”

A wide smile stretched across (Y/n’s) face, illuminating it just enough to catch the pretty cherry blossom petals fluttering around him. His face shone like the sun, even daring to put the big ball of light to shame. He stood back up, his smile still noticeably big and happy.

“Please take care of me then, Kita-kun.” (Y/n) stepped forward and sheepishly brushed his fingers against Kita’s shoulder.

‘He loves me...’

——

Please take care of me.

It was a simple request. A simple phrase. “Please take care of me,” not in a babied, maternal way, but in the way that (Y/n) hoped him and Kita would be as a lovey-dovey couple you see in romance manga. The kind you see and can’t help but coo at.

“You need to stop flailing your arms around. You’re weakening your spike, (L/n)-kun.”

Kita called out so suddenly, (Y/n) mid-spike, making him sputter and land awkwardly. The ball hit the net with a thud, before landing on the same side of the court it came from. Kita looked at (Y/n) skeptically. It was his normal, straight-laced face, but everyone in the gym could sense the intimidating aura Kita was projecting.

No one wanted to be on the receiving end of that aura, to be cornered by Kita’s judgementful gaze. Yet here (Y/n) was. How unlucky.

“I’m...I’ll do it better next time, Shicchan.”

“Shicchan?”

“W-well...you don’t mind it when I call you that in private, Sh-“

“This isn’t private, (L/n)-kun. We’re in practice.” Kita bore holes into (Y/n’s) skull, who was desperately trying to look anywhere but Kita. Aran scratched the back of his neck.

“Uh-it’s just a nickname dude, plus, you guys are dating, right? So it’s natural that (L/n)-san would call you that.”

“That doesn’t distract from the fact you need to get your spikes over the net, (L/n)-kun. Not on it.” Kita paid Aran no mind, and continued staring down (Y/n) with a heavy, emotionless gaze.

“S-sorry...” (Y/n) shrank back into himself. Everyone who was staring immediately scrambled to look away once Kita looked back. Kita wordlessly walked away.

“Damn, I’m sorry man.” Aran’s eyebrows contorted into a look of pity, while (Y/n) awkwardly chuckled.

“S’fine. He was...probably just having a bad day s’all.” (Y/n) brushed off Kita’s cold judgment faster than Aran expected. He smiled.

“He loves me, so it’s okay.”

——

Today is a good day. (Y/n) hummed as he strolled down the path to practice. In fact, today is a great day. (Y/n) didn’t know why, but it was a great day.

(Y/n) strut into the gym, carrying bag of steamed pork buns he’d bought at the convenience store a few minutes ago. The gyms inhabitants stopped one by one, their focuses shifting from their individual practice to (Y/n) and his bag of food.

Hungry players, especially Atsumu and Osamu, flocked towards (Y/n) with hungry stomachs or a sense of curiousness. Kita caught the ball he was tossing in the air and looked at (Y/n) with blank eyes.

“You’re disrupting practice.” Kita said, not moving an inch from where he was standing. (Y/n’s) smile faltered a bit.

“W-well I just felt like buying the team some food-I feel like we’ve been working hard and we deserve it-“

“You came to practice late to buy food that you could’ve bought after practice?” Kita’s question felt more like a jab at (Y/n’s) chest. Everyone crowding around (Y/n) froze up, a sudden icy-cold shooting down their spines. Kita’s unwanted, scary aura was back.

“I...”

“Why would you do that?” Kita cocked his head to the side. “You’re late to practice-you don’t even have your gym clothes on-and since you have food it’s either we eat it now and can’t practice-because we might get stomachaches-or we eat it after and it gets cold and you waste your money.”

The once bright smile caused by (Y/n’s) ‘good day’ finally cracked. He looked at Kita with embarrassment, trying to play it off with a less cheery, forced smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but his throat closed up and no words came out.

Kita sighed. “Well I don’t want you to waste your money. I guess we’re eating (L/n)-sans steamed buns now.” He turned to the coach. “Is it ok if we take a break from practice? (L/n)-kun brought steamed buns. If we’re lucky we can practice at the end of our practice time once we digest.”

Coach nodded awkwardly. Kita walked up to (Y/n), whose bag of food was being shared and distributed amongst Inarizaki. (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line.

“I’m...I’m sorry Shinsuke-kun.” (Y/n’s) happy day was weathered down and left with empty sadness in seconds. He felt so proud and courteous for buying his team a treat purely out of impulse, but now he just felt guilty for disturbing practice.

“It’s alright, I guess.” Kita’s words held no value, as he pecked (Y/n) on the cheek lovelessly. (Y/n) shot him a weak smile, cupping the cheek whom he had kissed gently.

‘He...loves me...so it’s okay.’

‘So it’s okay...’

——

It was such a small gesture. The small act of Kita drawing his hand away when (Y/n) reached out to hold it, him bringing his hand up to lock away in his pocket as they walked through the schools hallways. It was such a small, infinitesimal detail that (Y/n) should’ve brushed off with ease. Y’know, maybe his hand was just cold.

But he couldn’t.

He hesitantly slowed to a stop. “Shin...Kita-kun.”

Kita looked back, a blank look laced with the tiniest amount of confusion weaved inside. “Did something happen?”

“Do you love me?”

Kita dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Of course I do.” It came out his mouth no more than an automated machine would, as he dragged (Y/n) gently to the side of the hallway. “Be careful next time. We’re lucky not much people were around. Someone could’ve heard you.”

‘Heard you?’ (Y/n) furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn’t angry. No, no he wasn’t angry. He just felt like someone hollowed out his insides.

“Is it so bad if people heard me? That I love you and wanna know if you love me too?”

“Yes.”

Kita had no filter. He announced it like saying ‘The sky is blue’, stating it like a fact he expected (Y/n) to know. And he wasn’t even adorning a stern or intentionally harsh face while he said it. Though, it was the way Kita said it so bluntly and emotionlessly that made it hurt the most.

But now that (Y/n) thought about it, when was the last time Kita smiled because of him?

Has he ever even seen him smile?

Has he ever seen, touched, or heard any sort of proof of his love?

Of Kita Shinsuke’s love?

(Y/n) downcast his face. “I just wanted to hold your hand.”

“You know how people feel about gay relationships. Not even my baa-san knows yet. So what if one of our classmates see-“

“-but the whole team knows-!”

“-and I trust the team. They won’t say a word until we’re sure and ready to tell everyone.”

(Y/n) stayed silent after that. Then, he opened his mouth.

“...Then do you trust me?”

It came out like a cracked, hoarse whisper. Kita, for once, look stunned. His eyebrows raised slightly and his eyes widened, even if it were just a little bit.

“Of course I do.”

Another automated response.

(Y/n) nodded, letting Kita lead them back to the middle of the hallway to walk to practice. (Y/n) gave up on trying to hold Kita’s cold, cold hands, and instead thought solemnly to himself.

‘He...he loves...’

He paused. He looked over at Kita, who was looking straight ahead. He looked back down to his walking feet.

‘Does he love me?’

——

Kita looked around the gym. He saw Atsumu and Osamu yelling at each other about something he couldn’t quite make out, Suna fishing out his phone from his pocket, and Ginjima chatting and peppering a volleyball back and forth with Aran.

But no (Y/n).

Kita tapped Suna on the shoulder, who was zooming in and taking pictures of Osamu’s disgusted face. He hummed in acknowledgement, now trying to zoom in on Atsumu on the ground.

“Have you seen (L/n)-kun today?”

“In class, yeah. At practice, no.” Suna murmured. Kita nodded and thanked him for the info. That meant he was at school today, at least.

Excusing himself from practice, Kita stepped out of the gym. I mean, why wouldn’t he be worried about the whereabouts of his boyfriend? Especially with how odd he’s been acting, Kita couldn’t help but worry just a smidge.

After what seemed like hours of pointless searching, he eventually found a mop of (h/c)-hair sitting on a stone bench under the same cherry tree (Y/n) had confessed to him to. Kita had checked the place on impulse, not actually expecting to see someone there, but it was better than nothing. Kita walked up to the boy sitting with his back faced to him, and without even saying anything, (Y/n) gave a small hum.

“Mm.” Was all he said. His back was slouched, and he was still in his school uniform. His school bag laid pathetically strewn on the grass next to him, and if Kita could see his expression, it was probably unreadable.

“Practice is going on.”

“Mhm.”

“You should be at practice.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why aren’t you going to practice?”

“Is everything about practice with you?” (Y/n) lifted his head. His voice was still calm, but it raised in volume ever so slightly. “Practice, practice, practice. What about how I feel?”

Kita opened his mouth to say something, but for the first time, nothing came out. He didn’t know what to do. Was he mad at him? Did he do something wrong?

“I...” (Y/n) choked back his words, letting out a sigh and slumping down on the stone bench once more. He flicked a fallen cherry blossom petal off his shoulder. “Never mind. I don’t feel like going to practice, tell coach th-“

“Is there something wrong?”

Kita question had come out of nowhere. (Y/n) bunched his hands into fists. “...now you notice?” He turned around, red in the face and tears falling freely in unison with the bittersweet cherry blossoms falling mockingly around them. “Tell me, Kita,”

“Do you love me?”

Kita furrowed his eyebrows. “...of course I-“

“”of course I do.” That’s what you always say..! Say something else, dammit! Say you love me!”

(Y/n) abruptly rose from his seat, stepping over the bench and grabbing Kita by the collar. He pulled him closer to his face, shaking him by the shirt with knuckles that almost turned white.

“M-Make me believe that you love me!” (Y/n’s) tears cascaded down his face, flinging in the air as he whipped his head down so suddenly. Small, choked sobs ripped through (Y/n), yet all Kita could do was stare. Stare with his blank, emotionless face. (Y/n) took his silence as his answer. The silence was so loud.

“...I think we should break up.” Kita’s eyes widened.

“Why?”

(Y/n’s) iron clad grip on Kita’s shirt loosened, he stepped back, face feeling raw after crying. “I don’t want to be with someone who can’t tell me they love me. Once you can tell me you love me, and mean it, I’m all ears.”

“(L/n)-kun-“

(Y/n) reached over the bench and pulled his school bag up, dusting off the stupid pink petals that littered around his bag. He slung it over his shoulder numbly, and shot a curt “See you tomorrow.” At Kita.

All Kita could do was stare. With the emotionless face he now wished held more vibrancy.

“...I love you, (Y/n).”

It came out foreign on his lips. It was the first time he’d said those words, hadn’t it? I love you. A cracked whisper, and even then it sounded like it held no value. Kita took one last linger at the now-empty schoolyard, and walked back to practice.

——

When Kita came back to the gym, everyone was sitting in a semi-circle surrounding a whiteboard. Various lineups and positions were drawn hastily on the board, and everyone looked towards the gym door which Kita had come in through. He silently dragged his feet over to the circle of players, and took a seat behind Aran.

“Where were you?” Aran whispered. Kita ignored him, the lump in his throat stinging and bloating his vocal cords up to the point he couldn’t talk.

Every moment, every interaction, every cold, cold observation Kita ever had with (Y/n) flashed before his eyes. The coach’s voice and the squeak of the whiteboard marker melded together as memories of how kind (Y/n) had been played like a dvd in his mind. He’s been so warm. So, so fucking warm. Every piece of warmth (Y/n) shared with him, he took for granted when he told himself he wouldn’t. He wasn’t normally like that. But he’s been so, so cold.

Silent, hot tears blurred Kita’s vision. They fell slowly, and dripped onto the hardwood floor with no meaning whatsoever. He was so cold. He clasped his hands together, shaking, and trying to hush his ragged breathing and sniffles. He felt so cold. Eventually, the coach stopped talking, and one by one players started turning around, asking if Kita was ok.

But he wasn’t. He was so cold.

——————

Kokoro is brokoro in Mr Mizunetzu’s Christmas event

#kita x reader #kita shinsuke #shinsuke kita x reader #haikyuu shinsuke #hq shinsuke #kita x male reader #kita x y/n #kita x you #Kita x m reader #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu boys #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu angst #kita angst #mr Mizunetzu’s secret Santa

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ncssian · 4 years

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A Favor: Part Thirteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: merry christmas

***

Nesta and Cassian agree to take separate cars to Velaris— not because they’re so afraid of being discovered together that they’ll risk global warming, but because Nesta has a preceding event and tells Cassian not to wait up for her.

After a rushed Secret Santa with the boys at Emerie’s apartment, Nesta drops by Gwyn’s place and leaves a small parcel at the doorstep. She doesn’t have time to knock and make conversation, but the gift is the least she can do after Gwyn surprised her the other day with a copy of a highly anticipated romance book weeks ahead of its official release.

“The library got early copies and I borrowed this one for you,” she said out of nowhere one afternoon, handing her the book. Nesta blinked in shock, not realizing that she and Gwyn were close enough for such acts of kindness. Even if their conversations felt like they’d been friends for much longer, they’d only known each other for a couple of weeks. It was then that she realized that’s just how Gwyn is. She does nice things because she can, not because social bonds or etiquette compels her to.

Guilt isn’t something Nesta feels often, but she was ravaged by it when she thought of not repaying Gwyn’s kindness. She couldn’t bear the idea of imbalances or debts being created in her relationships with her new friends, and spent the last two days searching everywhere for a decent gift to make up for it. She’ll have to text to make sure Gwyn got her present later tonight.

After a two hour drive (she might have taken detours to stall), Nesta is in the hallway leading to Feyre and Rhysand’s penthouse apartment. The door is cracked open enough that laughter and music float out to where she stands, and her fingers tighten on the bag carrying her sisters’ gifts. She checks her makeup in the hall mirror one final time, assuring that not a smidge of her perfect armor is out of place.

An in-and-out operation, she tells herself, flicking a lock of hair away from her face. She’s prepared for this.

Walking up to the half-open door, she’s struck down by the decision of whether to knock before going in or not. Luckily, the choice is taken away from her when the door swings open on its own, and Feyre is on the other side.

“Nesta,” her sister says in surprise, in a good or bad way Nesta doesn’t know.

Nesta blinks. “Did you know I was here?” She gestures to the door.

“Oh, no...” Feyre pokes her head past Nesta into the hallway. “Actually, I was checking to see if the pizza guy was here yet,” —she looks back at Nesta— “but this is even better!”

The slight strain in her voice makes Nesta think otherwise.

She doesn’t play along with the game. She doesn’t even comment on how they’re having pizza on Christmas Eve. Feyre adds after a moment, genuinely this time, “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Nesta glances down at her dress, a skintight ruched piece that shows more chest than usual, and then back up at Feyre’s designer jumpsuit. “So do you,” she says, her voice more flat than she’d prefer it. But she means it. “Can I come in?” she gestures inside, hoping to put an end to this conversation and her nerves.

“Right, duh,” Feyre laughs, grabbing Nesta’s gift bag and waving her inside. “Elain’s in the kitchen if you want to see her. Grab a drink and make yourself comfortable.”

Nesta steps past the door cautiously, eyeing the penthouse as if it’s her first time here. The winding iron-railed staircase is to the right, leading up to the second floor which holds all the bedrooms. The living area sprawls to her left, and through a wood-paneled threshold across from her is the dining room and kitchen. If anything is different from the last time she visited, it’s that the place is now considerably more lived in: pictures, hand-picked art, and other signs of life and love decorate every inch of the apartment, to the point where it makes Nesta feel like a home invader.

She’s so busy absorbing this place she doesn’t belong in that it takes her a moment to realize the room has fallen silent.

She turns to the living area, and her eyes land on Cassian first. He went so far as to put on a suit for tonight, and he’s watching her with a stunned quietness that makes her proud of her own outfit choice.

Nesta knows there are other people in the room, but she really can’t bring herself to care. Her hands twitch at her sides, instinctively reaching for him—

“Look who finally decided to show up,” a smug voice drawls.

Nesta looks away from Cassian to find that just about everybody else is staring at her, too. The voice who spoke up is that tiny woman named Amren, and she’s watching Nesta now with a sharp glint in her gray eyes.

Slick discomfort coats Nesta’s insides at Amren’s tone, and she lets her hands fall behind her back so they can’t reveal her anxiety. “Merry Christmas, everyone,” are the first words out of her mouth.

“’Sup, Nesta,” Cassian is the only one that bothers to respond. His tone holds none of the closeness or intimacy it usually does— it’s been replaced with a removed, almost strained friendliness instead.

Remembering that seeking him out for comfort is not an option tonight, she tries to find somewhere else to look.

In the span of a second, she spies Mor’s curiosity, Rhysand’s vague distaste, and Varian’s hesitance, before finally settling on Azriel’s bland look of disinterest. His phone dangles lazily from his hand, and he looks about two seconds away from going back to it and ignoring her completely.

It’s his detachment that grounds Nesta enough to remember her words. “I’m going to…” she gestures vaguely toward the kitchen, “get some food.”

“I can help—” Feyre starts.

“No, thank you,” Nesta quips, then hightails it out of there. The conversation, along with Nesta’s heartbeat, restarts as soon as she’s out of the room.

Following the short hallway connecting the dining space to the huge kitchen, she freezes when she finds Elain standing before the dual range oven, staring intently down at her phone. She curses herself silently— how did she forget her other sister would be waiting here right after being told so?

Elain’s head snaps up at the sound of Nesta’s heels on the tile, looking flustered. She quickly tucks her phone into the pocket of her apron before she realizes who she’s looking at, and a wide smile overtakes her beautiful face. “Is that really you?” Elain marvels in her lilting southern accent.

The words hit Nesta bluntly for some inexplicable reason. She shakes it off with a blink and smiles back, far more subdued than Elain but still genuine. “Lain,” she greets kindly, like they’re two old friends picking up right where they left off.

It’s Nesta’s fault that things are like this, she knows. She hasn’t bothered holding a real conversation with her closest sister in months, and now she’s in the same room as her hoping she won’t have to face Elain’s disappointment for her distance.

“Oh, get over here, how’ve you been?” Elain crosses the sleek kitchen and waves her into a hug. Nesta awkwardly pats her back, and is held even tighter when she tries pulling away.

She only manages to detach from Elain when Elain’s apron pocket vibrates. Stepping back, she takes her phone out and silences it before tucking it away once more. “So,” she grins when her focus returns to Nesta, “how’s the lone wolf life treating you? Isn’t it great to be back at your old apartment?”

“It’s good. I’m doing good,” she nods along. Nesta hates small talk more than anything, but this is the least she owes Elain. And the least she owes herself, if she’s being honest. Even if she knows she will never truly be fit for a life of socialization.

She takes things a step further and nods to the oven, asking, “What are you cooking up?”

She knows she’s done something right when Elain’s dark eyes light up, and she starts rattling off the three-course menu she’s prepared for tonight. (“What about the pizza on the way?” Nesta asks. Elain’s face darkens. “Don’t get me started. Some of the people in that living room have the taste palate of five year olds.”)

Nesta takes a seat at the island and falls into the age-old rhythm of listening to her sister talk, her heart feeling bruised and soothed at the same time. How similar and different they are now from the people they were ten years ago. Nesta doesn’t know if this is a good thing or not.

***

“That’s the thirtieth time you’ve checked your phone since Mor started telling her dolphin story,” Cassian mutters to Azriel sitting next to him on the couch.

Az clicks his phone off and turns it facedown so Cassian can’t see the screen, his face remaining blank the entire time. “I can’t help it if I’ve heard the dolphin story a hundred times already.”

“You’ve been staring at that thing the entire night,” Cassian calls him out. “Anyone on there more interesting than us, dear brother?”

Az snorts, not bothering to look at him. “Like you’re one to talk.” He reaches for his glass of liquor on the side table.

Cassian frowns as the chatter drowns out his murmur. “What do you mean?”

Azriel takes a sip from his drink, not replying. “When do you plan on letting us back at your cabin?” he says instead.

Cassian snorts. “It’s not like I’ve been keeping you away from it.”

“You turned Rhys and me down every time we made plans about coming over.”

“Because Nesta was staying there.” He is very, very careful about the way he says her name. Even talking about her is walking a thin line.

“She moved out a while ago, though,” Azriel continues. He leans back into the couch. “Speaking of Nesta, I don’t remember her being that hot. Did you see her in that little dress tonight?”

Cassian tenses, dull anger sliding over his bones and under his skin. “We all fucking saw her,” he says tightly.

Az clicks his tongue. “Damn. A woman like that shouldn’t be wasted in a small town.” His eyes slide over to Cassian’s with a dark glint of amusement. “You mind sharing?”

In that moment, Cassian is presented with the option of punching Azriel in the face. Hard. It’s only due to a divine miracle that he doesn’t.

Even with his temper, Cassian knows when he’s being played with. “How did you know.” His voice is flat, cold.

“You have ‘Nesta’s bitch’ written all over your face.”

Goddammit. Cassian clenches his teeth, saying nothing. Can everyone see it, or only his closest brother? How long has he known?

“I had my suspicions,” Az says simply, “when you ran out of Thanksgiving dinner like your ass was on fire after she sent you that thirst trap.”

Cassian blinks. Of course; the bastard peeked at his phone the last time they were together. No reason other than that.

“It wasn’t a thirst trap,” he grits, on high defense now. “It was a perfectly appropriate photo that you never should have seen.”

Az’s lips twitch upward. “Could’ve fooled me with the way you reacted to it.”

This— this is exactly why he doesn’t want anybody to know about him and Nesta. Because even though a weight has been lifted off his chest with Azriel knowing, an even heavier weight has started to sink in his stomach.

For months, Nesta has been his alone. And the idea of opening their relationship up to others’ opinions and judgements...

“Cass?”

He breaks his death glare at Azriel to find Feyre standing over the couch. He blinks; when did she cross the room? “Yeah?”

“You okay?” She glances between him and Azriel, clear-cut concern in her eyes. “You’ve been a little out of it tonight.” These last several weeks, actually, he knows she’s thinking.

He pulls his best Nesta face, all emotion carefully hidden behind a wall so blank it’s almost dead. “I’m doing fine,” he says simply. “Don’t worry about me; worry about Rhys spending all of your money on cards tonight.”

When Feyre still looks hesitant, Cassian summons his signature smile, the one that puts everyone and their babies at ease. He knows he’s succeeded when Feyre’s shoulders sink and she smiles back, nudging him in the arm. “Alright,” she says begrudgingly. “Just don’t keep pulling that long face. It’s Christmas Eve.”

***

Nesta is still hiding out in the kitchen while Elain finishes up a roast chicken when Feyre wanders in, eager to play the doting host.

Nesta pauses in the middle of telling Elain what she got earlier today for Secret Santa, waiting for Feyre to interrupt or insert her opinion, but Feyre only leans against the kitchen entrance and waits for her to go on.

“... So I thought it was hideous, but she insisted I keep it,” Nesta finishes cautiously.

“Who insisted you keep what?” Feyre speaks up.

“My friend Emerie got me a Christmas sweater.” Nesta waves a hand. “It looks like it came out of the recycling bin of a thrift shop, but I think she legitimately expects me to wear it tomorrow.” She huffs a lighthearted laugh, remembering how she and Emerie had cackled over the tacky gift together.

She finds she doesn’t mind talking about Emerie to her sisters. Rather, it’s something that brings her pride, like how she imagines new parents talk about their babies.

“Ain’t that amazing?” Elain speaks from where she arranges the chicken onto a platter, her back turned to both sisters. “While we were worried this whole time about Nesta being holed up in her room, she’s been going out and making friends.” Her voice is tight with a forced cheerfulness that only their mother could have taught her. Nesta stiffens in her seat at the island.

“Oh,” Feyre says shortly, blinking. “I see.”

The easiness Nesta had from talking about her friends slips away, being replaced with her usual mask of steel and ice. “See what?”

“Nothing,” Feyre defends, moving to lean against the island across from her. “We barely ever speak anymore, Nesta. How are we supposed to know what goes on in your life these days?”

“Well, I’m telling you now,” Nesta says coldly.

“She’s also in therapy.” Elain still hasn’t turned around from the stove. “How exciting.”

Nesta whips her head toward Elain in disbelief at the information spilled. So she is angry at Nesta for avoiding her calls.

“Therapy?” Feyre looks taken aback. “For what?”

Elain swoops in before Nesta can choose between scoffing or rolling her eyes at Feyre’s question. “Who cares what it’s for?” She finally turns around, bracing her hands on the counter. “Does it even matter?”

Nesta tastes venom on her tongue, and it wants to be spit in her sisters’ direction. “If you have something you want to say, Elain, say it. The passive-aggressive act makes you look like a fake bitch.”

Elain flinches, and Feyre looks away to hide her tired disappointment. “We still can’t have a single conversation without you going from zero to a hundred, I see.”

You haven’t even seen a hundred yet. “Tell me,” Nesta demands. “What did I do to mortally wound you this time? Is it the fact that I have a life away from your incestuous circle, or am I missing something else?”

Feyre scoffs incredulously, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s the fact, Nesta, that you have it in yourself to be good to everyone except for your sisters! When it was just me you hated, I could accept it fine, but then you left Tennessee and shut Elain out, too. With no explanation.” Hurt dances across her face. “It’s been years and it’s only gotten worse. And after months of near silence you show up here like—like you would rather be part of any family except ours.”

She keeps saying we, like her and Elain’s feelings are one and the same. Like they’ve talked about this before.

Nesta crosses her arms. “So you are mad I have friends.”

“How is that your takeaway from this?” Feyre has to struggle to keep her voice down.

Nesta’s heated eyes cut to Elain, who’s been silent during this whole exchange. “And you agree with her? Or is there something else you’d like to add?”

Elain opens her mouth to respond, but Nesta doesn’t give her the chance. “If I haven’t changed, then neither have you two,” she seethes. “You still think this is the fucking Disney channel or something, where we’re all best friends who have sisterly sleepovers and text each other good night. Wake the fuck up,” she bares her teeth. “Stop expecting things from me and just be happy I’m alive and doing well— because that’s the bare minimum that I’ve always given you!”

But no matter what Nesta says or does, they will never understand her. She will never be enough for them. The realization sinks in with a rattling finality at the resigned look on Feyre and Elain’s faces: like they didn’t hear a word she said. Nesta wonders when they stopped listening.

A throat clears behind her, and she whirls to see Feyre’s boyfriend at the doorway. His pretty-boy face is drawn tight, barely hidden rage simmering in the violet of his eyes. “Pizza’s here,” he says curtly.

Elain blinks tears out of her eyes, spinning back to the counter to pick up the platter of chicken. “Of course,” she says quickly, “the rest of the food is ready too.”

Feyre leaves the kitchen first, then Elain, then Rhysand with a final deadly glare at Nesta.

Nesta doesn’t know how long she stands there in the same spot, unmoving. Only when her phone buzzes from the island countertop does she turn.

Gwyn: did u get me a vibrator for christmas???

***

Cassian hasn’t looked at her all night.

Nesta doesn’t know what she expected when she told him they couldn’t be together in public, but it wasn’t this: him, laughing and talking with everybody at the table save for her. Like she isn’t even sitting there.

Nothing has changed. Least of all her.

She swallows around a mouthful of dry meat, feeling herself slip back into that old, familiar role: the background character. Except tonight is different, because everyone saw Elain’s watery eyes and Rhysand’s furious stare when they left the kitchen, and now Nesta is being ignored on purpose.

The buzzing in her head is louder than any conversation going on at the table anyway. Whether her sisters would believe her or not, Nesta had made plans. Plans to call more often, to make amends for the years of radio silence, to reintroduce herself to Feyre and Elain as a better sister. Not now, but one day— when she finally learned how.

Plans that were all dashed in the span of one conversation. Her knuckles turn bone white around her fork. So much for getting better.

The longer the night goes on, the more hurt and rage swells in her chest, until she fears she can’t say a word without screaming. How long will it be like this between her and her sisters, between her and the world? As if Nesta owes them all one thing or another: her time, her energy, her best smile and her affections. Why does everything have to be an exchange, and why is she always the one giving something up?

Cassian is the one person who always let her be, adjusting to her whenever she couldn’t adjust to him. But she’s having trouble remembering that fact when he won’t even spare a glance her way. When he’s sitting there laughing with Mor in a way he never laughs with her.

“And what about you, girl?”

Amren’s voice drags Nesta out of her haze, and she realizes the woman is speaking to her.

Nesta doesn’t like the way Amren speaks— with barely hidden cruelty, like she takes joy in watching people squirm.

Nesta blinks. “What?”

A slow smile creeps up Amren’s red mouth. “I said,” she repeats, “are you finding the pay for your work at Night Court sufficient?”

“Amren,” Cassian starts, but Nesta is already on her feet. The table falls silent.

“I have to...” she mumbles unintelligibly. She can’t come up with an excuse. Shaking her head, she leaves the table without finishing her sentence. Leaves the dining room and the whole damn apartment.

***

The slam of the door shutting echoes through the penthouse. No one speaks for a long moment, and Cassian finds himself filling the silence: “Was that necessary, Amren?”

Amren sneers. “What did I do?”

Because he’s counting down the seconds until it’s acceptable to go after Nesta, Cassian indulges her. “Not everyone has it in them to play Mean Girls with you whenever you feel like it.”

“Yeah, but did she have to ruin dinner over it?” Mor snorts, reaching over and plucking a roasted Brussels sprout from Nesta’s nearly untouched plate.

Feyre stands up. “I’ll go after her—”

“Don’t bother,” Cassian says, earning a raised brow from Azriel. Elain looks inclined to agree with Cassian until he adds, “I’ll check on her. You don’t need to stress, Feyre.” With a reassuring smile, he pushes out of his seat and heads for the door.

Each casual step toward Nesta lasts a million years, but he finally reaches the hallway beyond the apartment, letting his facade drop in the same breath that the door shuts behind him. Relief wracks his body when he finds Nesta waiting for the elevator, still here.

“Nes,” he calls, hurrying after her.

She punches the elevator button repeatedly, as if that’ll get it to hurry up. He catches up to her and takes hold of her hand, turning her around—

She snatches her wrist out of his grip like she’s been burned, her fingers flexing with pent up emotion. “Not tonight, Cassian.”

“I’ll go home with you, you can tell me what’s wrong—”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?” he demands. She never shuts him out like this.

Nesta stares intently at the elevator doors. “Go back to forgetting I exist.” Her voice is flat.

He scoffs in disbelief. “You’re not serious—”

She whirls on him so quickly he almost stumbles back in surprise. “You didn’t look at me once the entire night.”

Cassian stills, stunned. Is that what this is about? “How could I have?” he laughs, shaking his head. “You’re the one who doesn’t want anyone knowing about us!”

“So you pretend I’m not there at all?” Hurt flares beneath her angered words.

“I can’t do both.” He fights to keep his voice low, aware of the thin walls. “I can’t look at you and not have everyone see what I feel for you— you’re all over me.” Even Azriel sees it, for God’s sake.

“What’s the truth, then?” she hisses. “Are you a terrible actor or a great one? Because in that apartment I forgot we were even in a relationship.”

“You walked in looking like that,” he gestures wildly at the black sheer mesh hugging her body, “and I was supposed to, what? Act like we were friends?” He hasn’t spent all night nearly losing his mind trying to fulfill Nesta’s wishes, trying not to let his feelings show, to get dragged through the mud for it.

“Is that your best excuse?” Nesta sneers. “I used to be too boring to spare a glance, and now I’m too sexy?” She steps closer to him, bringing them chest to chest. “We were good distractions for each other in your lonely little cabin, but deep down you know we wouldn’t last a day in the real world. That’s why we haven’t told anybody, Cassian.”

Cassian knows a spiral when he sees one, and he’s fighting not to get dragged into Nesta’s. “I know this isn’t about me.” He closes his eyes, praying for calm. “It’s about whatever happened with Feyre and Elain tonight.”

Which is the wrong thing to say, from the way Nesta’s face reddens. “Don’t even fucking go there.”

He doesn’t realize that the elevator has dinged open until Nesta reaches out her arm to stop the doors from closing. “You know nothing about me,” she says heatedly. “You were sad and desperate for acknowledgement when we first met, and you’re the same way now. You haven’t. Learned. Anything.”

Cassian almost wishes she would scream senseless things at him like she used to do whenever she was upset— because this refined wrath of hers is so much more hurtful. And it makes him angry, too.

He leans in until his nose is brushing hers. “If this is one of those things where you try to push me away by being cruel, I’m not fucking buying it.”

Like a switch is flipped, the flame in Nesta’s eyes flares out. He sees that dead nothingness and knows he’s lost. “You don’t have to buy it,” she says simply. She steps onto the waiting elevator, and he doesn’t try stopping her. She doesn’t want to be stopped.

Nesta gives him a final look before the doors shut between them. “And I wore this dress for you, asshole.”

Cassian stands there long after she’s gone. Not knowing what to do next.

A muffled laugh breaks through to him from the other side of the walls, and he realizes that everyone has moved back into the living room. Turning around, he goes back inside to his friends.

***

;)

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#nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian fic

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deltas-writing-corner · 3 years

Text

Courtship: Together

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Author note: Thank you all for your patience and happy reading!

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption.

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AO3 version

“Really, I insist.”

“And I insist you sit down and relax while we finish preparing your party,” Lilia says as he pushes Malleus back down in his seat; the grand stone throne at the top of the double staircase in Diasomnia’s main lounge room. “We’re nearly done, anyway!”

Malleus tries to argue that setting out a few plates of food or lighting a few candles himself is no big issue, but Lilia skips away before he can get another word in. He continues to watch as the rest of his dorm mates decorate and rearrange the lounge into a grand venue befitting a birthday bash. Every so often, he checks his phone and rereads the last few messages you sent to him. You wrote you would arrive soon and would inform him when you were outside. He was getting antsy the longer he waits. There was even a moment where he was unsure if you knew the way to his dorm and panic-offered to escort you just in case. He snuck out for you once, and he’d do it again if you only asked.

The somber doorbell rings, and he immediately shoots up onto his feet. Lilia excuses himself so he can answer the door, but Malleus quickly descends the stairs and catches him by the shoulder before he can leave the room. “I’ll get it,” he says, leaving no room for a rebuttal from his caretaker. He hears several shouts of his name and approaching footsteps, but no one completely follows him into the halls, most likely thanks to Lilia holding them back. Even as he puts more and more distance between him and the venue, he swears he can hear the elder fae’s playful giggles echoing in the distance.

He picks up his already hurried pace at the sound of the bell ringing again. He’s a bit out of breath by the time he reaches the door and takes a few moments to straighten up and calm his pounding heart before welcoming you in. His efforts to appear calm and collected are all for naught, as he feels his breath being taken away when he opens the door and sees you. While you’re always wonderfully dressed, seeing you dressed in attire that is just a smidge more formal and fanciful strikes a carnal chord he didn’t know existed till this very moment. Black and green are the signature colors of Diasomnia. While your dress shirt isn’t the traditional vibrant green, instead it is a dark and rich hue, he can’t help but wonder if it would be too rude or outright ridiculous to ask you to wear it more often.

“Hey!” you greet with a bright smile on your face. “See? I made it here just fine.”

“Thank goodness,” he lets out a relieved sigh. “I thought I may have had to pick you out of a thorn bush.”

You let out a hearty laugh at his comment as he ushers you inside. He observes you as you look around and take in the decor of his dorm. While the architecture of Diasomnia is a typical design within the Valley of Thorns, his own home especially, he knows from a few off-handed comments that some students find the dorm gloomy and even downright unwelcoming. He supposes the green flames that bathe the walls and windows in an ominous glow can be a bit intimidating to those not used to them, but you don’t appear bothered by it at all. In fact, you’re dragging him in the opposite direction of the lounge and insisting that he show you around his dorm.

“I’m not leaving ‘till I see your room,” you firmly state.

“Why would you want to see my room?” he asks.

“Y’know?” You point back and forth between him and yourself. “You’ve seen my room, so now I get to see your room.”

That sounds awfully familiar.

“What is your name, child of man?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” you answer nonchalantly, completely unintimidated or disturbed by his presence. “What’s yours?”

His eyebrows furrow with annoyance. “It is proper to give your name when asked.”

“That isn’t how mutual introductions work where I’m from,” you scoff. “You’re supposed to give me your name, and then I give you mine.” you point back and forth between you and himself to better emphasize your explanation. As if you were trying to make sense of the difference between right and wrong to a child.

He feels the urge to growl in the back of his throat. “You’re rather ill-mannered, human.”

“I don't think any reasonable person would feel safe giving out their name to a tall guy with horns, wandering around an abandoned dorm that’s seen better days,” you bite back. “You aren’t making a great case for yourself either.”

After his mind finishes playing back the very first memory and conversation he has of you, he gently grabs you by the shoulder and leads you in the opposite direction. “Very well,” he concedes.

He guides you down several long halls, past the other standard-sized dorm rooms and other empty rooms. The large double doors of his room eventually come into full view, and when you turn and ask him if that was his room, you give him a giddy smile when he confirms it is. His room is rather plain. The only personal items he has are a few pennants above his desk given to him by Lilia many decades ago, and a giant statue shaped as the Witch of Thorn’s dragon form. While there isn’t anything in particular that he’s embarrassed by you seeing, he worries you might find the lack of personal decor boring, upsetting even. You have little else in your room as well, but compared to his it may as well be a treasure trove.

“Huh,” you step in and look back and forth, taking in his private space in all its unassuming glory. “So this is what a dorm leader’s room is like!”

The first place that catches your interest is the bed, which you unashamedly fall back on, arms spread out to bask in the space underneath you. If seeing you on his bed wasn’t enough to stir his heart, it would be the fact that another one of your shirt buttons came undone, exposing more of your collarbones and the middle of your chest to his obsessive gaze.

“Damn, I’d kill for a bed this big,” you grumble. “Do you know how much of a pain it is, sleeping with a bunch of full-grown wolves, four newborn pups, and a steadily growing deer?”

“You can always order them out of your room at night,” he suggests.

You fall back on his bed again with a groan. “Believe me, I’ve tried! They nearly scratched my door off and kept me up all night with their loud howling.”

You and your deep, unspoken love for animals. It seems it’s coming back to bite you in small ways. “You’re much more pliable than I thought!” he says, laughing behind his palm.

“Whatever,” you lift yourself and give a dismissive wave with your hand. Something catches your eye, as you look him up and down before tilting your head inquisitively. “Aren’t you supposed to have a sash with your outfit?”

He is, but what you don’t know is that he purposely left it in his closet, hoping you would notice and bring it up as you did just now. The reason and overall style of this birthday suit perplexed Malleus, but he’ll admit that it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when the headmaster dropped it off the other day. He was actually hoping it would be you that presented it to him as you did with Lilia’s identical outfit on his birthday. However, that one time was because the headmaster had another obligation and handed the task to you last minute. It was the first time Malleus saw you since the end of the winter break, when his love confession went awry. It was awkward and nerve-racking, as to be expected considering how things went. But when you smiled and called him “tsunotarou” (much to Sebek’s disdain), it helped affirm the words the two of you had been exchanging over the phone, that you and he are still friends and that you still cared about him.

As he had hoped, you quickly offer to put the sash on for him when he mentions it still being somewhere in his wooden wardrobe. Your movements are swift and unassuming, but he can’t help the way his shoulders tense up when you put your arm around him to wrap the sash around his torso. Once the strip of fabric is properly secured, you run your hands over his clothes to smooth out the small wrinkles and bunched-up fabric. Your actions feel like a burst of electricity against his skin, even though there were several layers of clothes separating your bare flesh from his.

You casually wipe your thumb over the purple gem on his lapel pin before saying, “White suits you.”

“Is that so?” He timidly raises his hands to button up your dress shirt, just the one button that was undone earlier. He knows you hate having it buttoned up all the way. “I thought you said red suited me best?”

“I still think it does!” you chuckle. “But I’ve never considered you in something white until now. I guess I have to make you a white coat now.”

“You don’t have to,” he insists. “The one you made for me is fine as it is.”

“That’s good,” you smile. “All those years of helping my aunt sew and mend clothes for my cousins finally came in handy.”

“That would be your second aunt, correct?”

You’re visibly surprised at his comment, but you quickly give him a rather adorable smile. “That’s right!” you chant. When he asks you why you’re smiling so sincerely, you answer, “You’re the first person who’s been able to tell which of my aunts I’m talking about without naming them.”

“You speak of them often, so it’s expected that I’d be able to distinguish who you’re referring to after some time.”

“Well, shut me up if I mention them one too many times,” you insist, eyes averted from his own as you fidget with the ribbon tails of his celebratory bow near his breast pocket, his birth month and day were written with shimmering gold foil.

“Nonsense,” he frowns, redirecting your gaze to him so he can look you in the eyes. “They’re your family. If they’re important to you, then they are to me as well.”

While it’s true that you speak or make a frequent mention of your aunts during your many late-night strolls with him, Malleus’s ability to tell which one you’re referring to is mostly due to him carefully listening to each of your stories like they were gospels, writing seemingly rudimentary information down in his private journal to later read back by himself. Initially, he kept a record because your stories about the life you’ve lived alongside your rather rambunctious human family intrigued him. As his infatuation for you grew, he hoped that by showing you he remembers these moments of your life that you’ve shared with him, it would be a clear sign that he deeply cared not just about you, but also the family you deeply care for.

“Honestly,” you sigh and give him a playful look. “You really know how to tug on my heartstrings, don’t you?”

Malleus has done his best to remain calm and composed in your presence ever since he came to terms with his feelings towards you. As always, you shatter his efforts completely just by being your genuine self, open and honest with your thoughts. You seem to relish his red-faced meltdown, pulling him into a comforting hug while also laughing at him. He hopes you don’t think it strange, the way he seamlessly leans against you and melts in your arms. There’s a pleasant fragrant he picks up in your hair, fresh and floral, specifically like roses. He knows you like to make and use rose water every once in a while to keep your skin moisturized and your hair healthy. His heart is on the verge of bursting through his chest, thinking about you using it specifically with him in mind.

Is this your way of enticing him? It’s not much, but it’s working.

You pull away from him when your phone briefly rings. “Looks like they finished,” you announce as you skim over the newly received message, most likely from Lilia. “We should probably head there now before Sebek gets impatient and hunts you down like a rabbit.”

At the mention of his well-meaning, but loud retainer, Malleus and you leave his room and walk back to the venue together. Along the way, he acts bold and grabs your hand as you hurriedly walk side by side. You don’t pull away when his fingers interlock with yours. Instead, you squeeze and swipe the callus pad of your thumb over his knuckles, a silent assertion that his gesture is okay with you. A shy smile adorns his face. When he spares a glance over at you, he sees one as well.

“I know it’s only been 5 days,” he nervously mentions aloud. “But is it safe for me to presume that you already have an answer?”

“Pretty much,” you casually answer, but you still sounding quite sure of yourself. It sends his heart, mind, and body into a hopeful frenzy. “But as you said, it’s only been 5 days. I still have 2 more days left before my deadline hits and I’m taking all the time I’ve given myself.”

That cheeky tone of yours doesn’t go amiss. In normal Ramshackle fashion, you’re going to keep him at his wits’ end for your own amusement. He doesn’t know if he should feel more annoyed or more enchanted by you. Perhaps a mix of both? Truly, only you can make him feel this way.

“Honestly,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “You are by far the most troublesome human I’ve ever met.”

He halts his hurried pace. And you do as well. He grasps your still intertwined hands together with his other hand, holding it carefully like they were as fragile as glass. Your skin is covered in scars, both recent and old, that came from years of foraging and enduring the natural difficulties of mother nature. However, to him, these permanent markings are more precious than the rarest gem or the finest silk. Your hand is neither too large nor too small within his. It sits just right within his grasp like they were made for him to hold and caress as he is doing now.

“I suppose that makes you the person that you are,” he smiles down at you after letting out a curt laugh. “and it is you who I love and cherish immensely, with all that I am and ever will be.”

Perhaps it is in poor taste to repeat the same words he first told you during his initial confession, but there are no other words he could weave together that can equally convey to you the extent of his feelings other than these. He knows he’s getting ahead of himself. He knows that he’s agreed to abide by the time you’ve asked of him. His words are his bond, literally and figuratively.

He’s just so damn in love with you. He’s willing to act a bit more reckless than he usually is just to expedite the days where he can have you by his side and be together with you at last.

He barely catches it, but thanks to the quiet halls, he’s able to pick up the mumbled words you speak. “You’re making me lose my sense of patience, dammit.”

“Young master!” Sebek’s booming voice echoes down the hallways before Malleus can press your comment further on. His impending presence is enough to make you let go of one of him and take a step back to set some space between you and him. “Where are you?!”

He was much closer than he sounded, as you and Sebek nearly topple over each other when you both turn down the same corner. Thankfully, Malleus acts quickly enough and catches you before you could fall to the ground, and you thank him shortly after you’ve righted yourself up.

Malleus looks up at Sebek and asks, “Why on earth are you sprinting down the halls?”

“The human has failed to respond to Sir Lilia’s message, so he sent me to retrieve you both!” Sebek states, a bit too loudly for your liking as you click your tongue and rub your temples to relieve the growing headache. Malleus has assured you that Sebek’s volume is something you’ll grow accustomed to. It seems the day has yet to come.

“Well, we’re here,” you halfheartedly try to reassure the boy. “So can you please use your inside voice?”

“You!” now it was Sebek’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Did I not give you an hour-long lecture on proper attire for the occasion?! Today is Master Malleus’s birthday, and you look no different from what you look like any other day!”

“What?!” you look at his retainer with utter bewilderment. “I am dressed up! I even went out and bought a damn blazer just to fall in line with your strict rules!”

“You’re not wearing it properly!” Sebek gestures to your rolled-up sleeves and the two undone buttons of your dress shirt. “Honestly, I expected better conduct from you, prefect!”

“Just shut up and walk, Zigvolt!” you fume and push the young fae down the hall, ignoring his continuous strings of scoldings and high expectations of you. “I’m not in the mood!”

You turn back to Malleus, who silently follows a few steps behind Sebek and you ahead of him. Malleus has to bite his tongue as you make a choking gesture, most likely directed towards Sebek, with one of your hands. He puts his hand up in defense, not wanting to get involved in your ongoing argument with his retainer. Whenever you and Sebek are together, willingly or otherwise, the two of you often butt heads. Your arguments are never too serious. Malleus knows that if he gives you two some space, you’ll both work out whatever it is you’re arguing about and go back to respectfully tolerating each other as per usual.

He wants to ask you about this supposed lecture Sebek gave you about how you should dress. It sounds equally intriguing as it does ridiculous. Unlike Sebek, he thinks you’re dressed rather well tonight.

The scent of roses in your hair is proof enough that you’ve taken some of Sebek’s words to heart, even if he says otherwise.

The food is delicious despite its unusual colors. The cake, although baked by Lilia, was fluffy and not overly sweet like you expected it to be. Your biggest fear of the night was walking into a dorm full of faes who are just as headache-inducing and strict as Sebek is, but thankfully there’s only one of him in the entire dorm! Some students were still standoffish and threw you a few too many nasty looks than you would normally tolerate. Thankfully, there were some students you remember helping out of their dubious contract with Azul during exams week and welcomed you with open arms. They followed you around like a bunch of ducklings, eagerly insisting you try some dishes they specifically made for tonight’s festivities. Whether they genuinely admired you or simply wanted to make even with you for your help, they are a pleasant distraction from your interactions with Malleus earlier.

Love is a strange thing. Unlike a deer, you can’t predict its next movements or manipulate it to a point of disadvantage. Whether you love someone poorly or properly, love isn’t the same across the board. The love you have for your ghostly dorm mates back in ramshackle is comparable to the love you have for your family, precious and irreplaceable. You can share the same sentiments for your flourishing entourage of forest animals you take care of. You even have a bit of love for Grim, even if he wears your patience thin every other day with his dim-witted cockiness.

You’ve been in a few relationships before, but they went nowhere meaningful. They were relationships built upon a foundation of opportunity and convenience, not of mutual affection and a desire for lifelong companionship. You’re also a creature of habit, so the idea of breaking your hard-fought routines puts you on edge, even if it’s for someone you care about. There’s also the fact that you’ve sworn to yourself to not get too involved with the people in this strange world. You don’t want anyone, or even yourself, to feel saddened or at a loss when it comes time for you to depart. You don’t want to inconvenience anyone if you can avoid it. When you return home, you just want to brush this entire experience off as a long and complex dream.

But how can you brush someone like Malleus off as a figment of your imagination? How can you simply forget all those nights you spent talking with him, laughing with him, genuinely connecting and bonding with another person outside your immediate family for the first time in a long while? How can you continue to tell yourself that you won’t get too involved or become attached to anyone in this twisted world after you’ve gone and fallen in love with one of its inhabitants?

You love Malleus, truly, wholeheartedly, and for far longer than you initially thought. You love him, but not to a blind point where you cannot realize that loving him isn’t as simple as acting upon your innermost desire. Even if the feelings you have for one another are mutual, what then? What will a relationship with a fae, a royal fae, entail? Few think highly of humans. Sebek is a living example that there are even faes who actively dislike and look down upon humans. Malleus is at the very top of the social hierarchy, while you are on the very bottom; a magicless human from a completely different world. That’s another problem! What happens once the way back to your home is finally unearthed?

You love Malleus, but no matter how you look at it, a relationship with him sounds nothing more than an outlandish fairytale. Your friendship with him is still a rather delicate issue. You aren’t particular about what others think of your involvement with him, but he can’t exercise the same amount of dismissal of public opinion as you do. He has to worry about what others think of him, because eventually he’s going to be king, and a king can’t flourish if his people think ill of him.

It makes you wonder why he fell in love with you, the most perilous person he could have ever met and involved in his delicate lifestyle.

“Having fun over here?” A playful voice interrupts your deep thinking. Lilia has one of his arms thrown over your shoulder, a gloved hand firmly squeezing you for comfort and bringing you closer to his side.

Despite his petite stature and his boyish looks, you knew from the moment you locked eyes with him on the first day of the school year that he was much older and wiser than he let on. In fact, he’s old enough that he’s been mentioned in a few footnotes in a history book or two. You even cited him as a source for a thesis essay just for a few laughs. He even has a copy in his room. It wouldn’t surprise you if he has it framed and hung on his wall. He’s a very sentimental man.

“Do you need a moment to breathe?” he asks, concern discernible in his voice.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you plead.

“Not at all,” he nods assuringly before excusing him and yourself from the small group of boys you’ve been entertaining for the past hour. He leads you out to a quiet balcony and you bask in the cool night air once the doors behind you are closed. Once outside, you take in a much-needed deep breath and lean yourself against the balustrade railing. He quickly excuses himself again and returns with two flutes filled with a bubbly drink.

“What is this?” you ask, swirling the contents around with caution.

“It’s champagne,” he answers.

You give a quick sniff. It certainly smells like it. “Isn’t everyone here too young to drink?”

“Yes.” He clinks his glass against yours before throwing you a cheeky wink. “But we aren’t.”

That’s good enough of an explanation to have you down the much-needed alcohol in one shot. Lilia takes careful sips instead, but once he finishes his drink, he heads back and brings the entire bottle of bubbly wine for you to finish with him. It’s been a while since the two of you drank together. Lilia has an expensive palette, so you’ve quickly learned to cherish each selection he brings for these monthly get-togethers.

You gesture to the dark bottle. “How old is this?”

“Half a decade. Nothing too fancy,” he tells you while pouring himself another glass. “It’s certainly better than whatever it is you brought last time we got together.”

“Unlike you, I like a little kick in my drinks,” you explain.

“Well, I’m not exactly fond of the sensation of my throat burning up with searing pain,” As if you emphasize his point, he massages around his small Adam’s apple. “No wonder you’re so rough around the edges.”

“That’s a low blow and you know it Vanrouge,” you pour the last bit of champagne in your glass before setting the bottle down by your feet.

“How low?”

”Right in my gut.”

“Then I suppose I’ll need to make it up to you over another bottle,” he subtlety suggests. “Are you in the mood for anything in particular?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Nothing too strong. I’d rather not get hammered in front of a bunch of teenagers.”

He offers a bottle of red wine he’s been meaning to pop open for a while and you accept without a fuss. He takes the empty bottle of wine and tells you to hang tight while he gets the next one. You’re left alone for a few minutes before someone enters the area and settles right next to you. It’s Malleus, who looks just as out of sorts as you certainly look and feel.

“Needed a moment to breathe?” you ask.

“Yes, but I also noticed you were missing and came to find you,” he admits. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you smile reassuringly at him. “Just out of my element a bit.”

“I’m sorry,” he looks so downtrodden that it makes your heart sink. “I had every intention of being close by you for most of the evening, but I’ve been busy speaking with the others that I-“

“Hey, relax!” you stop him before he can devolve any further. “Today’s your day, not mine. Besides,” you lift your empty glass for him to see. “Lilia is keeping me company.”

“Why is it that whenever I see you two together, there’s alcohol involved?”

“In my defense, he’s the one who offered,” you explain, but he doesn’t seem that convinced or assured. “It’s been a while since I’ve had champagne! And it’s a special occasion!”

“I’m not opposed to you drinking, but after what happened last time, I can’t exactly trust you two to pace yourselves or get your hands on something far too potent than either of you can handle.”

He’s talking about the last time you and Lilia drank. You’re not sure what it is the old man brought, but whatever it was, neither of you could stop drinking it even after you two were well past your limits. You both blacked out early in the evening and woke up with one of the worst hangovers in your life. Malleus knew well beforehand that you and his caretaker drank together. He’s even joined a few of your drinking sessions, despite not being fond of alcohol himself. But he certainly did not expect to deal with not only one, but two easily agitated and out of touch individuals the next day.

You still don’t know what was in that bottle.

“Malleus!” A newly arrived Lilia perks up when he sees the man of the hour next to you. “Have you come to drink with us?”

“I’m afraid not,” he answers, immediately followed by the two of you whining in disappointment. “Seriously, what is it with you two and alcohol?”

“You make it sound like we’re alcoholics. Which we aren’t!” you protest, eagerly watching as Lilia opens the bottle and pours you both the first glass of many more to come. “We only get together like this once a month.”

“We used to share a few glasses once a week at some point,” Lilia says as he hands your drink. “But that’s a bit too frequent for these old bones.”

“Says the man that downed half a dozen bottles of beer back in September,” you purposely bring up.

“I didn’t know it was alcohol!” Lilia shrills. “If I did, I would have paced myself better.”

You look over to Malleus and shake your head in disapproval. Your action makes him chuckle, and the urge to fidget with the stem of your glass comes down on you. He really does a great laugh. You’re not sure if it’s your genuine feelings or the alcohol that’s making your heartbeat faster after hearing it. For the sake of your sanity, you’re just going to blame the wine for making you feel more infatuated than usual.

As you and Lilia steadily empty another bottle together, the older fae feels compelled to tell you a story or two about Malleus when he was younger. Despite the latter’s protests, you insist and listen intently about the many times Malleus singed Lilia’s hair as a baby with his fire hiccups or the few instances he’s gotten lost on his quest to sightsee every single gargoyle around the castle. It’s never a proper birthday party without a relative sharing embarrassing baby stories with random guests.

After the second battle goes empty, Malleus suddenly asks you if you would like to walk around the dorm grounds for some much-needed air, Since he’s the birthday boy, you agree right off the bat, only after you get a glass of water in you to help stave off the wine a bit. Lilia gently reminds you both not to stay out for too long, otherwise, Sebek’s worrisome nature might get the better of him and he’ll put together a makeshift search party. If you hadn’t had a few glasses of wine, you wouldn’t have found Lilia’s comment as funny as you did at the moment. You’re a tad tipsy, but not drunk enough that you feel yourself acting or thinking too out of character or lose your sense of balance and trip over your own two feet.

“So, where are we going birthday boy?” you nudge him with your elbow. “Are you going to push me into that thorn bush now?”

“But of course,” he laughs. “I just wish for further respite, that’s all.”

Just as you’re about to mention that people usually like to step away from a crowd by themselves, you feel his smooth fingers interlock with your hand once again. He takes you around the back of the dorm where the expansive and well-attended hedge garden is located. The dark-colored bushes are blanketed in blankets of snow, and more green fires are flickering atop the lantern poles lined along the stone pathways. It’s been a while since the two of you went on a nightly stroll like this. They started out as either you or Malleus running into each other by pure chance and just going along with the lucky encounters. Soon your run-ins became much more intentional and a regular part of your schedules.

He’s the first to break the silence. “May I ask you a strange question?”

“Of course you can,” you nod your head, admiring the wooden gazebo the two of you have now settled underneath for a moment. “Isn’t that why we go on these walks, to ask each other a bunch of odd questions?”

It goes without saying that, due to your racial differences, there were a lot of questions burning in each of your minds about your differing ways of life and upbringings. Most of your questions were innocent and came from a place of wanting to learn and take into consideration his boundaries as a fae. As you grew more comfortable with each other, thus more open and honest, the more comfortable you felt to ask him more personable questions. However, you usually have to answer your own question first before he gives his response in return. You find that this is usually the case when conversing with a Fae. They won’t give until you give back something of equal value.

“In my defense, your blunt answers are refreshing,” he admits, almost gratefully. “No one other than Lilia speaks to me with such genuine honesty. Yet even then, he tends to shroud his words in some layer of vagueness.”

“My aunts were like that when I first moved in with them. Something about ‘learning things on your own,” you recollect. “But I was really quiet and withdrawn when I first moved in with them. They had to lead me by the hand and pummel me with lots of encouragement just to get me to do basic things.”

“You and the concept of quietness don’t mix well together,” Malleus laughs. “In fact, much of how you describe yourself as a child doesn’t seem to match up to how you behave now.”

His comment, while true and most likely just a casual observation, is treading into somewhat dangerous territory for you. “You really pay attention to everything I say, don’t you?” you comment in an attempt to divert the conversation elsewhere.

“I do,” he admits with an unashamed expression “But seeing as you now know of all of my embarrassing mishaps as a child, I think it’s only fair that I get to hear a story or two about yours.”

He leans closer to you, something you normally do to him whenever he gets all quiet and reluctant to say what’s on his mind. You don’t exactly mind telling Malleus about your early childhood, but it’s not as grandiose or as pleasant as he may think it is. What’s a friendship without revealing a few stories about your crappy childhood to each other? What happened to you is unfortunate, and you’re not ashamed to talk about it, not anymore at least. Considering the state of your friendship with him and the ongoing issue about whether you’re going to pursue something more with him or not, you’re not too sure if sharing stories of your past should be preserved for later or if doing so now is alright.

“Can I ask you something first?” you hesitantly ask.

“Anything.”

You turn your body towards him more, easily noticing the way he sits up a little more straight. The faint chirps of crickets and windswept leaves fill the silent void you’ve set in place. He remains quiet, tightening his grip around your hand, still interlocked with his, brushing the back of it with the thumb of his other. The gesture is small, but it’s obviously his way of letting you know that he’s patiently waiting and encouraging you to take all the time you need to sort your thoughts out. He’s looking at you with that concerned expression of his. The one he makes when he feels as though he’s made some sort of mistake or said something that was ill-spoken against you.

He tends to critical of himself, only because there is a lot of expectation set upon his shoulders for someone of his station. It is during moments like this that you understand what Lilia meant when he says Malleus still has much to learn and experience before he can truly take on the mantle of a king. He may be many decades older than you, but his maturity is probably not too far from your own; well put together than most, but still in need of opportunities to grow and learn some more.

That’s the purpose of these walks, to learn and grow from each other. All it takes is a question. But your question, the one that has been swirling in your mind for days, isn’t as innocent as wondering if his horns have nerve endings or not.

Your teeth are on the verge of biting your tongue hard enough to draw blood when finally, you will yourself to ask the burning question on your mind.

“What do you plan to get out of a relationship with me?”

He’s visibly taken aback by your question. If you squint really hard, your question is almost an affirmation that his feelings towards you are mutual, but it is only a minuscule part of a much greater whole. There can not, will not, be any do-overs for either of you. Before you pass a point where there is no return, you need to make sure neither of you is setting yourself up for disaster later down the line. You love Malleus, but you will not tell him what your genuine feelings are just to make him feel better. If word gets out about your relationship and it’s ill-received by his family or, heaven forbid, his own people, you’d never forgive yourself. Becoming King of the Valley of Thorns is his only desire in life. You couldn’t possibly understand why he would want to put himself into such a demanding position. You still don’t understand, but he remains firm that becoming king is what he truly desires in the entire world.

You’d rather die with these unpursued feelings of yours than to allow yourself to be the reason he loses his unwavering purpose in life.

“A relationship, with you,” he tests the words, the very concept, out loud. As if he’s trying to gauge the reaction of the world itself. “It certainly wouldn’t be a dull one.”

That look he gives you, the one that is so painstakingly painted in so much love and affection that can give you several tooth-rotting cavities, directed to none other than you, makes your heart do all sorts of acrobatic twirls and lunges. Your hands seek out the nearest object to fidget with, a piece of hair that fell out of place from your hairstyle. There’s a moment of panic that overcomes him and he goes to pull his hand out of your firm grip, but you tighten it just before his hand can slip away. You like holding his hand, you realize.

“Something’s troubling you,” he remarks. “Whatever it is, tell me.”

“This isn’t the best time to bring it up,” you argue. It really isn’t. Not when there’s alcohol in your body that makes you incredibly pessimistic and impulsive. And it’s his birthday. You really don’t want to make this day suddenly about you. You’re slowly regretting having that second bottle.

“Perhaps not, but it’s going to be brought up eventually, I imagine.” He gently cups the side of your face and forces you to look up at him, right into those green eyes that have always mesmerized you. “Speak to me,” he insists once more.

“I…” you start, but the words die in your mouth before you can speak them. There’s an instance where you nearly pull away from him and are ready to just book it back to your dorm and forget this ever happened, but he keeps you in place almost desperately. He wants you to speak your mind. He wants to know what’s eating up inside you. He wants you, all of you.

But like his desire to become king, you can’t understand why it’s you sitting across from him.

The edges of your vision wobble, and you know that if you’re pushed over the edge enough, you’re going to start sobbing. You hate crying, especially when you feel you don’t deserve to. Who are you to get all emotional when you’re the one who’s overcomplicating things? You’re the one who kick-started this conversation, so why are you the one getting all emotional? Shouldn’t Malleus be the one on the verge of breaking down? He’s the one with the most to lose. The most suffering you’ll likely be subjected to is a bunch of scrutinization and disapproval.

“You know this isn’t going to be easy, right?”

He reaches up with a folded handkerchief in hand, dabbing the corners of your tear-stricken eyes. “I know.”

“I can take a judgemental comment or two. I just don’t want you to be on that receiving end of it because of me.”

“People will always find something to pin blame on or direct their judgment towards, even if the detail is as insignificant as my decision to be with a human.” he calmly explains. It almost pisses you off that he’s remaining calm through all this while you’re going through many ranges of emotions. Malleus is a prince, and it's fragile moments like these that he’s been carefully taught how to navigate and work through. Now you’re just mad at yourself for forgetting something so obvious and vital. Damn that second bottle of wine!

“I’m the worst human you could have picked,” you proclaimed with utmost certainty. “I’m not even from the same world as you. What the hell can I possibly offer you?”

“Well,” He leans even closer to you, closer than he’s ever purposely been and you’re almost compelled to move away from him due to your nervousness. There was a brief moment where you thought that he might kiss you, that’s how little space there is between you and him. While a kiss from him sounds both amazing and absolutely terrifying, you let out an audible sigh of relief when he stops at pressing his forehead against yours. “What are you willing to give me?”

Oh, he’s slick and he knows it. The answer is so obvious now. You’ve made it obvious well before your first glass of champagne. You’re practically wearing your heart on your sleeves, but it’s not enough for him. He wants you to say it out loud so that what he assumes is mutual is in fact irrefutable. He won’t settle for anything less, you’re sure of it.

“All I can give you is my love,” you offer, in a hushed, almost embarrassed manner. “If you’ll have it. If it’s what you want.”

“It is,” he answers immediately, without a shred of doubt or hesitancy. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

If this is truly all he wants from you, then he can have it. He can have every bit of it.

“Are you sure you can make it back to Ramshackle without issue?”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure him for likely the 20th time. “I’m not that buzzed, and you look just as tired as I am.”

You’re right. Malleus is well beyond himself now. His social batteries are thoroughly drained. He needs a nice, long rest to fully process this long evening.

As he thinks about his conversation with you under the gazebo, he reaches out and tenderly caresses the side of your face. Your hands immediately reach up to tug and twist one of your shirt buttons. He once thought your habit to fidget with the nearest object meant you were uncomfortable. A dainty smile etches into his face now that he knows that this habit of yours was a sign that you were flustered by his actions.

He thinks it’s an adorable habit and very befitting of your person.

“What?” you look up at him with a nervous gaze. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Your face is all clean.”

Despite his statement, you wipe at your puffy eyes to ensure there are no visible tears left. Would you think him strange if he told you he finds you endearing like this, your eyes somewhat droopy and your voice hushed despite the lack of need to control your volume? You probably would, but your presumed disdain wouldn’t stop him even if you told him off. He can’t help it. He’s drunk as well, though not because of any wine.

“Are you busy this weekend?” you say into his open palm.

“Not particularly.”

“Good,” you smile against his skin. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Do you now?” He looks at you, intrigued by the sudden presentation of a surprise for him. “Is it safe to assume this surprise is my present?”

“Yup, it’s your birthday present,” you admit. “I found something on the island that you’ll absolutely love. The walk is long, but trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he says, beaming as he thinks about where exactly you’re going to take him. You have a knack for finding interesting spots on the island. Whatever this hidden wonder is, you seem quite confident that it’ll trump all the others.

“Meet me early in the morning, and dress warmly. It’s going to snow a bit.” you disclose before regrettably pulling away from him. “Goodnight, and happy birthday!” you call out to him one last time.

“Thank you! Please be careful on your way back!” he pleads, but you’ve already passed through the mirror back to the college’s main campus. Hopefully, you heard him. If not, he can always send you a letter through his charmed envelope or message you over the phone.

When he returns to his room to dress down and ready himself for bed, he finds that his desk is occupied by a hefty pile of presents that he had yet to open. While they vary in size, most are wrapped in identical gift wrapping and bows. Presents on the larger scale are fully exposed and have a card set over top of it or tucked in between the gift wherever possible.

He opens some gifts before calling it a night, specifically the smaller-sized ones. Most of them are centered on his skill for stringed instruments; new violin strings, fresh rosin for his bow, and even some sheet music for songs he’s never played before. If it weren’t so late, he’d practice a few stanzas. It’s probably best if he saves his awkward first time playing for another day.

Perhaps he can play for you someday? However, the mere thought of more physical activity causes a surge of tiredness throughout his body and he lets out a deep, bellowing yawn. Playing as host for his own party required much more listening than conversing than he had initially expected. He was also juggling his attention from his guests to you, who was always across the room from where he found himself. There’s a great divide in opinions regarding your friendship with him that, unfortunately, skews more negatively rather than positively. He cannot speak for all faes, but he did not want you to develop any poor opinions or experiences with his people, especially his dorm mates. Seeing the small group of first years keeping you company and even show a bit of reverence towards you was assuring.

You deserve as much praise and admiration as he receives, for you are someone who has well earned his respect and his love.

You weren’t exaggerating when you told him to dress warmly. Malleus doesn’t hate the cold, but he can’t say he likes the way it bites and numbs his minimally exposed skin. Thankfully, the coat you made for him helps stave off the cold rather well. Now if only his gloves could do the same for his needle-pricking fingers.

“Your master sure has the gall to leave me waiting outside in this weather.” He looks down at Gunter, the pack leader of your small bunch of wolves. He doesn’t seem bothered by the snow at all, what with his thick winter coat protecting him from the cold air and the scarf he wears around his neck. Not only did you think to make and put on a scarf for the rugged canine, you even secured it by tying the ends into a neat bow. “I wonder where exactly they’re taking me. Perhaps you have a clue?”

Gunter turns away from Malleus, as if to tell him he’s sworn to total secrecy on your behalf. Malleus can’t help but reach down and pat him on the top of his head. Loyal without a fault. He can see why you keep the wild dog around.

“Are you trying to interrogate my wolf?” He jumps a bit at your unannounced and undetected arrival. He didn’t even hear the crunching of snow and rocks from your heavy boots as you snuck up behind him. If he were wild game, he’d likely have a bullet lodged in his heart by now. “Whatever you promise him, it won’t work. He’s pretty tight-lipped.”

“I can see that,” he quips back. “Are the others staying behind?”

“They can’t stand the cold. Not like this one can,” you explain to him while proudly scratching behind the wolf’s fluffy ears. “The woods are still dangerous, even during the winter. He’ll scout ahead and let us know if we need to change directions and chase off any predators. I also promised I’d share some of our food if he came along, so there’s that.”

“You prepared food for us?”

“Of course I did!” you jostle your pack basket to reiterate your statement. “Did you really think I wouldn’t feed you?”

“You never fail to stuff me with food, so no, I didn’t think you wouldn’t,” he laughs. “Besides, without me, you’d end up with more leftovers than you’d know what to do with.”

“I lived with 11 people back home,” you grunt as you push open the metal gates that enclose the front of the Ramshackle dorm. “So what if I make too much food? You’re really pushing it for someone who gobbles it up all the same.”

“I rather enjoy the way you flavor your meals,” he remarks. “And you know that I’m very particular about my food.”

“Is that why you want me around?” you inquire with a cheeky grin. “So I can satisfy that silver-spooned appetite of yours?”

“What about you?” he questions back with just as much playfulness. “Without me, you’d have no gardening partner.”

“Damn,” you kick a twig and it tumbles down a small incline and into the half-frozen stream at the bottom. “and I thought I was being stealthy about it too.”

Malleus erupts into a loud fit of laughter, with you joining him as he sputters out how strange your shared senses of humor are. This right here. This is why he loves you. You just make him so damn happy! Your companionship and the bond you and him have built with each other is all he’s ever wanted, all he’s ever dreamed of since he was a young boy. There was a point in his life where he had nearly resigned himself to a life of loneliness. Now, look at him, out on a stroll with one of his closest friends. Although now you are not only his friend, you are now his partner as well.

His partner. His.

He involuntarily reaches over and squeezes your hand in his small bout of prideful possession. His enamored smile must have caught your attention as you reach out and poke the side of his face with your free hand.

“And just what are you thinking about, your highness ?"

He has to hold back the snort that he nearly lets out. How kind of you to layout the perfect opportunity to tease you. “Why, I’m thinking about you, of course,” he says, throwing a wink in for added measure.

You let out a huff of air that turns misty as your warm breath mixes and condenses in the cool air. “You should think of something else,” you retort, pulling the hood of your dark cloak closer to your face to cover the side that Malleus can see without strain.

“You seem a bit flustered,” Malleus continues to tease you.

“And you sure are talkative this morning,” you harshly say, but he knows it’s only because he’s “pushing your buttons" as you would say. You do it plenty of times towards him and your friends. This is nothing but well-deserved revenge for all those times you push him and get him all flustered. He’ll need to watch his back in the future. You won’t let him get away with this, not without avenging yourself first.

Oh, if only humans and Faes could get along as well as you two have. Malleus was born right at the end of the last war between his people and many defunct human nobility houses. Relations with the remaining human nobility are better with passaging time, but there is much room for improvement before there can ever truly be a declared peace between both species. A relationship between a human and fae is hardly anything new, the interaction between the two races as old as time itself. As overly optimistic and opportunistic as it surely sounds, he hopes that his relationship with you, no matter how it works out in the end, can be a proper example to his people and onlookers of any other kind than the harmony they once had with humans is still obtainable.

“What you said the other day,” he suddenly mentions. “I feel it would be in poor taste if I didn’t fully address the concerns you clearly have about us regarding my status as a member of the nobility.”

At the mention of your conversation a couple of days ago, your hand grips around tight around him for a moment. “I don’t like facing too many uncertainties,” you admit. “It probably sounds weird, but I do better in situations I have some control over. Being with you. Well, for lack of better words, it scares the living daylight out of me the more I think about it. I don’t even think you know what’s in store for both of us the further we get into this.”

“I have some idea, but to say that I fully understand what’s at stake would be untruthful,” he admits as well. When the court eventually finds out about who he has taken as his partner, he will receive some amount of scrutiny and his decision will be heavily questioned. "However, that would happened no matter who I chose to be with, so long as the person was not someone the court saw as diplomatically advantageous."

“Have you even told anyone about us yet?”

“No. Not even Lilia knows, but I'm sure he has an inkling by now,” he expresses. “As childish as this may sound, but I’d like to keep our relationship a secret as long as possible.”

“And when people start to connect the dots, what then?”

“The only way they’ll confirm their suspicions is to confront either one of us,” he answers matter-of-factly. “But whatever difficulties may be lined up for me in the future. So long as you’re by my side to support me, I'll endure whatever it is that is put forth in front of me."

“You’re right, you sound really childish,” you sigh. “But you also sound so damn sure yourself,” you grumble under your breath, but his pointed ears pick up on your comment despite your hushed volume. “I can’t say I feel the same way just yet. But I hope that, whatever comes up, we can do what we always do and just… talk it out.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he smiles. “After all, isn’t that the purpose for these walks of ours? So we may work through these difficult conversations with each other?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, a clear lopsided smile on your lips despite you not facing directly towards him. “I guess they are.”

Just as Malleus is about to say something else, you suddenly stop when a distant howl sounds. “We’re close,” you tell him.

“Now, where exactly are you taking me?” he finally asks you.

“Sorry,” you shake your head. “I can’t tell you just yet.”

“Not even after I asked so politely?”

“Nope!” you beam.

Still curious about this supposed wonder you’re escorting to, he continues to pester you with questions, trying to pull some sort of hint out of you. You’re not usually as tight-lipped as you are now. Your persistent secrecy only excites him the further you two travel.

Apparently, what you constitute as nearby is much further than what he would consider close. While still within the woods, he can faintly hear ocean waves crashing and a few seabirds cawing about. You’re taking him towards the southern part of the isle, clear by his now unbutton coat because of the warmer temperatures and the tuffs of green grass poking out through the half-melted snow the further you take him. The place finally appears before him, with tall brick walls and a metal gate, both of which are covered in thick, frosted ivy leaves. He can make out of a few shapes past the gate, but not enough to confidently guess what they are exactly.

“Will you tell me now?” Malleus asks once more while you busy yourself by giving Gunter some well-deserved ear scratches.

“What do you think?” you look down and ask Gunter. He makes a deep grunting sound in response to your question. “I guess you’re right,” you nod in understanding before looking up towards Malleus and saying, “The locals call it a gargoyle graveyard.”

“Gargoyles?” he says with clear excitement, like a young boy being told that a pile of candies and toys awaits him in the other room. "You took me out to see gargoyles?"

“Yes, but also no,” you say. “They would have been if they weren’t sculpted incorrectly.”

“So it’s a place where inoperable gargoyles are put?” he asks, still intruiged.

“The family who owns this piece of land mentioned that they also put gargoyles in here that were made purely for art’s sake,” you added. “But can it really be called a gargoyle if they weren’t made to act as a gutter in the first place?”

Malleus’s heart always skips and beats faster whenever he’s around you. That last comment you made nearly stopped his heart altogether. He once had a conversation with Silver regarding the stark difference between gargoyles and statues. The boy couldn’t fully grasp the difference, but it seems you can right out of the blue. By the Great Seven, is your ability to tell the difference between a purposeful gargoyle and a mere decorative grotesque really what’s making him go red in the face?

Yes. Yes, it is.

You easily notice this as well, as you comment how his complexion is almost the shade of a ripe tomato, although you’ve been busying yourself with undoing the many locks and chains secured around the front gate and didn’t even look over to him since. “I can see the tips of your ears getting all pink in my peripheral,” you explain with a hint of laughter arising in your voice. You’re clearly amused by all this. “Who knew my basic understanding of gargoyles is enough to set a fire in your loins!”

“Must you tease me at every opportunity?” he groans. "And so crudely too."

“What? Are you having second thoughts about me?” you jokingly ask.

“Somewhat,” he answers back, though it’s only a half-serious answer.

You toss aside the last chainlink and rusted lock keeping the front gate secured before saying, “I won’t be mad if you bail out now. It’ll save Sebek the future anguish when he finds out.”

“Sebek is already at odds with our friendship as it is,” Malleus clarifies. “Besides, I think the boy is rather endearing when he’s upset.”

“Endearing,” you mockingly repeat. “More like a pain in my ass.”

“Give him some time. He’ll grow on you,” Malleus encourages.

“For your sake, he better,” you glare at him for a moment. “Alright, that’s enough relationship talk for the day. These gargoyles won’t ogle themselves!”

No, they won’t, and it’s music to his ears that you want to appreciate them together.

Together, with him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #twst writing #twst malleus #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #fanfic: courtship #x reader #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns

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iflostreturntosteverogers · 3 years

Text

If You Love Her

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader, EraserMic, Ejiriou Kirishima, Hitoshi Shinsou, Kazuya Yamazaki (OMC), Hanta Sero (Mentioned), Mina Ashido (Mentioned), Denki Kaminari (Mentioned), Izuku Midoriya (Mentioned), Shouto Todoroki (Mentioned)

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, Grief, Little Smidge of Fluff

Word Count: 2278

Beta: @sorenmarie87

A/N: Lyrics used from the song If You Love Her by Forest Blakk

Masterlist

Katsuki hums as he prepares breakfast for the two of you. You lean against the doorframe admiring him in his hero costume. “Just gonna stand there, Firework? Or are you going to come kiss me good morning?” He smirks over his shoulder at you. You push off the door frame and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He sits his knife down and turns in your arms, cupping your face and kissing you. “You know you could’ve slept in right? UA is on holiday.” You shrug.

“I couldn’t sleep. I’m a little anxious this morning for some reason. Plus, I wanted to see you before you left for patrol.” Katsuki squeezes you hard before letting you go and turning back to his task. You grab your favorite mug and start to pour yourself a cup of coffee when his voice stops you.

“Don’t drink coffee if you’re anxious. You know it makes your heart race. There’s tea in the cabinet. Do you want me to stay home with you today?”

“Thank you. No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine, Kat, I promise.” You reach up on your tiptoes for the tea on the top shelf. You had a sneaking suspicion that Katsuki liked to place things you used regularly up out of your reach so he could grab it for you. He chuckles and grabs the tin, placing it in your hands. “Thanks.”

“Welcome, babe. Breakfast is ready, but I’ve gotta take mine to go. I’m running late for a meeting with Deku, Shouto, and Kirishima before our patrols.”

“Be safe, Kat. Come home to me.” He leans down to kiss you and presses your foreheads together.

“I will. I promise.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most, Firework. I’ll be home for dinner.”

The envelope in his pocket feels like lead as he sits through the shitty meeting Deku is leading. The truth is he’d woken up with anxiety too. Terrified about the future and what would happen to you if he was gone and wasn’t there to protect and love you anymore. It’s not like hero work was exactly safe. There was always that risk. They had already lost friends and comforted significant others at burials. Kirishima nudges his leg. “Hey, man. You good?” Katsuki looks around and realizes the meeting room has emptied, leaving him and his best friend alone.

“Just thinking about Denki and Shinsou. And Sero and Mina.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s been what about a year since Sero was killed?”

“Mhm and only a few months since Denki. Fuck, man. Feels like forever ago and yesterday at the same time.” Kirishima’s eyes fill with sadness thinking about their fallen friends.

“Yeah. Listen, Kiri. I need you to do something for me.” He pulls the envelope from his pocket and holds it out to him. “If I- if I ever die, I need you to take care of her for me. Make sure she lives her life, man. Don’t let her shut down and her light die. She’s too bright for that, man. You protect her. You have to help her keep going. Make sure she falls in love again. And when she does, you give him this.” Katsuki’s voice cracks, thick with emotion.

“Katsuki, I-”

“Promise me, Ejiriou.” Katsuki shoves it at him. Eyes desperate and pleading.

“Of course, Katsuki. I promise.” He pulls Katsuki into a hug, a move that would’ve earned him an explosion to the face years ago. They stay like that until Katsuki’s calm and in control again.

“Let’s get out of here. I need to blow something up.” They both let out watery laughs and stand.

“You know everything’s gonna be fine, right?” Kirishima places his hand on Katsuki’s shoulder.

“Yeah, I just can’t stop thinking about how wrecked Mina and Shinsou were. Hell, they still are. We’ve done our best to be there for them but Shinsou shut down and pushed us away completely. He blocked everyone’s numbers, except Y/N, but she’s his sister. Mina tries, but we all know she can’t even look at us anymore, because she just sees the one who’s missing. I have to make sure someone takes care of her. For my peace of mind.”

“That makes sense.” They slip their comms in their ears and leave the conference room. Kirishima stops by his desk to store the letter while Katsuki texts you. “Ready?”

“Yep.”

Their patrol goes slowly. Katsuki just wants to get home to you. It’s hot as hell and quiet on the villain front. The only thing they’d done was rescue that dumb cat from a tree. “Dude, one more quiet block and I’m calling it a day.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I think we can let the sidekicks handle the last couple hours without us.”

You stand at the kitchen counter chopping vegetables for stir fry. The news drones on in the background as you make dinner. Katsuki had checked in multiple times and said his day was boring and long, so you figured you’d make his favorite food and you guys could have a movie night. Your phone starts buzzing in your pocket, but as you reach for it someone bangs on the door. “Good grief.” You lay the knife aside and wipe your hands on a towel. “I’m coming.” The banging continues, growing more frantic. “Jesus, I’m coming. Chill.”

Time slows in that moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Katsuki’s picture on the news screen and turn. The doorknob jiggles as the person gives up on knocking and resorts to their key or picking the lock you don’t know. “Pro Hero Dynamight was killed moments ago in an attack. He and his partner, Red Riot, were on their way back to their agency when they were ambushed by a group of villains.” You stop dead in your tracks. The door opens. “Dynamight was dead by the time sidekicks and backup arrived. Red Riot has been rushed to the hospital. Dynamight was ranked number two behind Pro Hero Deku and leaves behind a wife. Japan thanks you for your sacrifice.” Your knees buckle, but arms wrap around you, keeping you from collapsing completely. Katsuki was dead.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” A familiar deep voice rumbles in your ear. Aizawa holds you close as you sob into his chest.

“Daddy, he’s gone. Katsuki’s gone. I can’t do this without him. I can’t!” You cry and scream on the floor in your father’s arms. Hizashi arrives moments later, hitting his knees and wrapping you both up.

Everything is a blur after that. People are in and out of your house. Arms hold you, but they’re the wrong ones. Someone shoved a cup of tea into your hands that went cold a long time ago. You shiver at the cold emptiness that has seeped into your bones. Hizashi wraps a blanket around your shoulders and kisses your forehead. You don’t acknowledge him nor Aizawa when he tries to coax you into eating some food. “Baby, please just drink some water then.”

You fall asleep on the couch late into the night, because you can’t bear to sleep in your bed without him. Your dads sleep on the couch opposite you. They’re curled protectively around each other, having been reminded once again that time is short and how lucky they’ve been.

Katsuki’s service is beautiful. People from all over the country come to say goodbye. Your dads hold your hands, while Kirishima, Deku, and Todoroki speak about their friend. It takes all your strength to stand at that podium. “Most of Japan knows Katsuki as Pro Hero Dynamight. The explosive, sometimes crass hero who never backed down whether in battle or simply in the way he spoke. I knew him as the love of my life. He never held back in loving me. He put things on top shelves that I couldn’t reach just so he could get them down and then kiss me. He loved to cook and has made breakfast for me every single morning since we began dating our second year. Katsuki was incredibly caring, even if he wouldn’t show anyone. I love you more, Katsuki. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live without you.” You break down as you address your lost love. Hizashi realizes you won’t be able to move on your own and walks up to you.

“Come on, baby. Come back and sit down. You did so well.” He places his hands on your shoulders.

“I can’t, Papa. I can’t do this.” Tears flow freely down your face as you grip the podium.

“You can. One step at a time.” You let go and lean against him as he leads you back to your seat. The service concludes just after sunset. Fireworks fill the sky as tribute to the explosive hero.

Kirishima sits at a table in the cafe, enjoying the beautiful weather and cherry blossoms. You make your way over to him. “Thanks for coming, Kiri.” He stands and pulls you into a crushing hug.

“Of course I came! How are you? You look great!”

“Thank you. I’m doing good.” You smile and he pulls your chair out for you. “I actually asked you here for a reason. I-uh, I’ve met someone. His name is Kazuya. Kazuya Yamazaki. He works at UA teaching Hero Ethics. He’s incredibly sweet and caring. He’s compassionate and understanding. He’s not Katsuki, but I love him. I miss Katsuki so much, Kiri. I still love him. I’ll never stop loving him.” Tears come to your eyes when you mention your late husband. Kirishima smiles.

“Sweetheart, that’s awesome. Katsuki wanted you to live life after he was gone. He wanted you to find love again and be happy. He made me promise that I’d take care of you and make sure you lived and moved on. He’d be so proud of you.” He hands you a napkin to wipe your tears away and chuckles. “Do I get to meet him?”

“That makes me feel better. And yes, you can. We can do dinner at my house this week and I’ll introduce the two of you. Until then, let’s order some food. I’m starving.”

You order and catch up with each other. When you start to leave he hands you an envelope. “Give this to him.” You look down at it. Written on the front is “To the Extra that loves her after I’m gone” in Katsuki’s handwriting. You hug it to you.

“I will.”

You close your car door and take a deep breath. Kazuya makes his way over to you and the two of you walk silently to Katsuki’s monument. “I wanted you to come here for a reason. Today at lunch Kirishima gave me this.” You show him the letter in your hands. “It only felt appropriate for it to be read here.” He takes the letter from you and you both sit in the grass with your backs against the cold marble. You lean your head over onto his shoulder as he reads.

“To the Extra that loves her after I’m gone. Extra?”

“Yeah,” you giggle, “that’s just how Katsuki was. Keep going.”

“If you’re reading this shit then I must be gone, but it also means that she’s found happiness and love again. That’s all I want for her. She deserves the world. But if you’re going to love her there’s some things you should know. If she gives you her heart, don't you break it. Let your arms be a place she feels safe in. She's the best thing that you'll ever have. She always has trouble falling asleep, and she likes to cuddle while under the sheets. She loves Pop songs and dancing and bad trash TV. There's still a few other things. She loves love notes and babies. And likes giving gifts. Has a hard time accepting a good compliment. She loves her whole family and all of her friends. On days when it feels like the whole world might cave in, stand side by side and you'll make it. She's the best thing that you'll ever have. She'll love you if you love her like that. Kiss her with passion as much as you can. Run your hands through her hair whenever she's sad. And when she doesn't notice how pretty she is. Tell her over and over, so she never forgets. Make her breakfast every morning, because she hates mornings and it makes her happy. Don’t let her drink coffee, it just makes her anxious. Buy her flowers and candy and those dumb stuffed animals she loves so much. Make her smile every chance you get because it is the most beautiful thing in the world. Love her. Love her more than anything else in the world. Don’t let her be sad over me. Make sure she shines. Her light is so bright and warm. Take care of her for me. -Katsuki Bakugou”

You wipe tears from your cheeks. “Oh, Katsuki.” Kazuya wraps his arm around you and lets you cry on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“No, sweetheart. There’s no reason to be sorry. He was your first love, your husband. You are allowed to still love him and to still be grieving him. I know there’s room in your heart for both of us.”

“Thank you. Even after ten years, it still hurts and I still miss him.”

“And that’s okay. Why don’t we go to the market and buy some flowers, so we can freshen up his arrangement? And then we can go home and you can tell me more about him.”

“That sounds great.”

Tags: @fictionalabyss, @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers

#bnha katsuki x reader #Katsuki Bakugou #Angst #my hero academia #fluff #sad #kirishima

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incorrectlumityquotes · 4 years

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FULL REVIEWS: “Wing It Like Witches”

Damn, that last episode was something. It was so much of something that the hype for this episode didn’t come until after they released a screenshot of Amity in the grudgby uniform. Everyone predicted that this was the episode that had Amity join The Owl House squad and...they were right.

The Lumity Trilogy ends with a sports balls game.

The cold open starts with Boscha of all people.

It’s grudgby season again and all I can think of is “Wow how lucky is Luz to enroll in Hexside during the semester where shit happens.” Is the first semester the boring one with no holidays and/or events?

Anyway, I grew up in South Texas where high school football was treated like the biggest deal. I get why Boscha is being treated the way she is, and so does she.

Boscha goes to school expecting a hero’s welcome, but gets pissed when the attention is given to Willow.

Willow tells Luz that ever since she patched things up with Amity, she’s been feeling more confident. That’s really good character development. Without her resentment toward Amity (who was her oldest friend), Willow feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. All that hate and sadness was bringing her down, but without it, she’s free to blossom.

I don’t mean to quote Penn & Teller but, “And then there’s this asshole.”

Boscha is so not okay with Willow being happy with herself and just picks on her harder. Especially since it’s grudgby season and she knows she can get away with it.

Amity tells her to grow the fuck up, and Boscha lets it slip that ever since grom Amity has been “getting soft.” This does fucking nothing since Boscha literally spends all day following Willow and friends all day picking on them like crazy. Like damn bitch, don’t you have anything else do do? Don’t you have any life outside of Willow’s?

People ask why I don’t ship Willow and Boscha and this is why. I get enemies to lovers. I get the bully becoming the love interest. Hell, it’s happening with Amity right now. But this is too needlessly cruel for my taste. There’s not way the Defeat Equals Friendship trope is going to work here. Not for me. But hope comes in the form of a useless lesbian.

Amity literally gay panics after getting ‘nam flashbacks of dancing with the girl she likes in the moonlight. Luz asks Amity for help about Boscha, and based on Amity’s answer, I don’t think Amity has ever liked Boscha. She agrees that Boscha is difficult to tolerate. It’s even worse during grudgby season because it becomes all the thinks about. Luz gets the wrong idea from that.

After literally pelting Willow with garbage, Luz challenges Boscha to a grudgby match for Willow. Again Luz’s character flaw of overstepping her bounds comes back. She never even considers what Willow might want or the fact that Willow has never even played grudgby before in her life. And that’s when another of Luz’s character flaws comes back hard. This time it’s Luz expecting life to play out like a story, or more specifically, a sports movie.

Holy crap. Is that the thorn-vault? I’ve never noticed that before.

Luz thinks that if they just try really hard they’ll beat someone who has been excelling at the sport for years. No. That’s not how life works, sweetie. I’m starting to think that maybe Luz’s mom was on to something sending her to camp.

Luz manages to convince Willow and Gus to be on board, but Amity...

She’ll be in her bunk.

Meanwhile in the B-plot (that should be my t-shirt by now), Eda is talking about her time when she was star player of her grudgby team when Lilith makes an unexpected appearance to arrest Eda. Lilith notices that Eda is wearing her old ass grudgby uniform and Eda’s response made me laugh.

“No reason. It’s laundry day.”

Lilith gives Eda a quick reality check to remind her that while Eda was good...

Lilith was better.

This photo really confused me and took me a while to realize that that was Eda and Lilith. Lilith gave herself a serious make over after school. Straightened her hair, darkened it, got ride of the glasses. I didn’t even recognize her.

Since we all got grudgby on the brain, Eda makes a bet. She’ll go with Lilith to The Emperor peacefully if she can beat her in a game of grudgby. Luz is always pulling stuff like this and it works out for her, so why not? Speaking of which.

Willow and Gus teach Luz about grudgby. Luz teaches Willow and Gus about montages and it does not go well at all. The grudgby, I mean. The montage was great.

In fact it’s so bad that Willow confronts Luz about the thing I was just talking about earlier. You can’t just shonen hero through all your problems. Willow and Gus give up and just leave.

I hate comparing shows because I believe they should stand on their own, but this really does remind me of when Lotte got mad at Akko in Little Witch Academia: The Enchanted Parade. Being innocently insensitive plus expecting life to play out like a movie is not a good combo.

Luz and Amity have a heart to heart. Luz’s character flaws do come from a place love. Willow is one of the best friend’s she’s ever had and it hurts to watch her get picked on. She’s not trying to make things worse but growing up on a diet of movies and cartoons, this is the only thing she can think of.

Amity reveals that she actually used to be a jock. No joke. She was the captain of the grudgby team before Boscha. But Amity decided to make the game all about her and her teammates got hurt. So felt so bad that she never played again. Amity is rough around the edges, but deep down she’s always cared about people.

Another gay panic later, and Luz gets the right idea this time. Luz forfeits the game and agrees to take all of Willow’s punishment so that Boscha will stop picking on her.

Bitch, works for me! Think fast!

Amity senses the obvious and immediate danger and goes for help. She reminds Willow and Gus that Luz always has good intentions and needs help because that’s what friends do.

This isn’t about “friendship” is it?

Gus and Willow show up to save Luz but you need three on a team. And in true sports movie fashion, the hero arrives in the eleventh hour to save the team. I.E. the only player who is actually good at the game gives the good guys a chance to win.

Let’s get it on!

It’s game on and for a bunch of nerds the game is actually pretty competitive. It’s a magic sport, so Willow focuses on the magic while Amity focuses on the sport. Luz being Luz, even congratulates the other players when they score. Luz discovers every RPG players favorite spell, fire.

It looks like our heroes pull off the victory in true sports movie fashion when this happens.

I stand by what I said last time. Someone on The Owl House thinks Harry Potter is really fucking stupid. Boscha catches the rusty smidge which means she automatically wins and Luz let’s out two decades of Harry Potter frustration.

But she has a point. If the golden snitch gives your team 150 points and ends the game then the only way to play would be to play defensively and focus all your efforts on finding the snitch. It means there’s literally only one decent way to play the game if you want to win.

“That just invalidates all our efforts! If catching that thing is so important, why do anything else!? There’s no reason to watch any of the other players! THAT’S SUCH A STUPID RULE!”

You tell them, Luz.

But in a twist that everyone saw coming, all the other players (Skara, Cat, Amelie) all had so much fun playing that they invite Willow to join the team. Willow politely declines because Boscha.

But we can’t have Amity help with the season finale so she hurt her leg. Amity panics at the thought of Luz carrying her, so of course Luz picks her up.

“Oh. Wow. Sports.”

Speaking of sports.

It’s game on at The Owl House and Lilith and Eda have a one on one match that’s really close. Eda decides to cheat her way to victory until.

Dammit, Luz!

Eda wins and Lilith vows to return.

The episode ends with Amity joining the fam at The Owl House.

FINAL SCORE: 5 - LOVED IT!

This episode was the best of fun episodes combined with the development of Amity episodes and you get probably my favorite episode. This was so fun and touched on most of the major characters. Even the B-plot is important because now Lilith knows the location of The Owl House. The jokes were funny. It was cute. Just everything.

The Lumity Trilogy ends on a high note. Amity is officially crushing hard on Luz.

#THE OWL HOUSE #my works #full review #full reviews

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years

Text

It’s The Avengers (03x13)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 13: That One Stranger

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: eep sorry

Word Count: last weekend was a blast!! My cousins, my brother’s best friend, all of us gathered and karaoked while drunk. Bro’s bestie even brought dad in for a song and two and broke a few glasses coz he was THAT drunk. Poor dude even apologised for that.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The camera was coloured in darkness when it heard a troubled and tired whine. It took a second or two to come out of someone's backpack- quite possibly Javier's- to record you nearly lying over a rhino-like alien with a dinosaur-like tail. Your eyes looked sad and frustrated, your limbs tired- hanging on either side of the slow creature carrying on its own pace. A scarf was thrown over your head that ended up covering your face, making the camera shift towards the tall figure of Loki walking beside the new transportation service. His figure- with the usual black jeans and equally black shirt- was covered in a cloak that protected him from the harsh rays of the neighbouring star. "They're gone. Stop whining," he ordered without even looking at you. "The only breathing insane person you need is me."

Lulu, who was sitting over your back now, was enjoying the languid bumpy ride through the desert that was filled with little crowds around the oasis -found around every two kilometres- while his camera recorded Javier sitting on his rhino facing you guys. You pulled the scarf away from your face and pouted, letting your face rest in your palms. "But they are all so cute." A blink later you turned your eyes towards Loki and smirked. "OoooOoooh!-" you deepened your voice- "'The only breathing insane person you need is me'-" and then squirmed out loud- "you naughty-naughty. You teasing me. You naughty-naughty!" Loki turned to face you, his steps so in sync that he was right next to your face the whole time his eyes kept yours captured. "What exactly is it that made my words tease you, darling?" All the playful giggle vanished as soon as it had come. You felt your body straighten at that smirk running wild over his lips while Javier's camera caught the change in the shade of your face.

You: *annoyed* You have to be really careful how you go about joking around with Loki 'cause that son of a bitch can turn anything into something sexual. *looks at the camera* *feels a shiver go down your body*

Loki: It is *stresses* so easy to make Y/N uncomfortable. All I have to do is make her think I am thinking something impermissible and then sit back to watch her fumble. *chuckles* It's one of my many talents. *feels a confidence boost*

"You are so annoying sometimes," you muttered under your breath while scratching an itch on the back of your neck. "Sometimes I forget you get a high out of making people miserable." "Oh, no. The high is solely out of annoying you," Loki pointed out innocently. Grabbing one end of the scarf, you flipped it in the air to smack Loki's back with it. "You do not deserve any of the lava cakes I make in the future!" "Thank the Norns. They kept giving me the worst pains." "You sonova-" Another flick of your scarf was easily caught by the God to pull you towards him. You nearly fell on his chest if not for your hands landing on those pecs first.

You: *mouth opened in an 'o'* *blinks slowly* I think I grabbed his boobies. *purses lips* *thinks for a long moment* *camera pans in* *raises brows* those are some really hard boobies.

"What." Even when you were sitting on the rhino- who came to a standstill on its own at the moment, clearly sensing some heat in the moment- Loki did not have to bend his beck even a smidge to stare right into your soul. "What," you spat back a bit hesitantly, trying your best to fume, taking your hands away from his body to hide them somewhere before they were executed for their crimes. "You are being quite bold these days," he commented while wrapping the scarf around his hand, never letting his gaze falter. "I was always bold-" you shrugged- "especially when it came to anything that had to do with you." Loki chuckled. And licked his lips. The camera caught the one strong inhale you took in. "What did you expect would happen in the long run? That I would go all soft and mushy on you like those fangirls you have on earth? Stand outside your home and shout-" "Loki?" The voice wasn't yours. You could never carry that kind of sultry weight in your throat even if you wanted to. It felt like it had come with the wind. Or maybe an echo? It wasn't until you looked at Javier's camera that you looked behind you and found a woman dressed in red standing within inches of you, giving you a mini heart attack, leading to one great fall. Loki could have broken your fall if he wanted to but from the look in his eyes, he was stuck on the woman he was seeing standing a few feet away from him. Lulu's camera caught this woman perfectly. From every angle, she looked human. Her pale skin was akin to a glass moulded in the shape of a Goddess. Her thin lips were coloured a shade of purple. Her eyes a shade of blue that was darker than usual. They were less of an ocean and more of a pool hidden in the caverns that were bottomless and unexplorable. A red cloak covered her head- except for a few strands of silver hair- and the rest of her body. It was not hard to miss for the cameras recording a couple of things that happened in a little span of time; like the slipping of your scarf from Loki's hands, the rhinos excusing themselves from the scene, the nervous fluffing up of Lulu at the sight of this stranger, the sudden chill in the air in the middle of the desert making the animals- and you- shiver. On top of that, the piercing rays of the nearest star seemed to get dull by the second till the camera realised there were clouds gathering above them out of bloody nowhere.

"Is that really you? Loki...son of Odin...and son of Laufey?" "It's Freya," you whispered, internally correcting this stranger who was visibly making you quite uncomfortable. "It has been a while." She completely ignored you if she heard that. Her smile seemed to stretch from one ear to another at the sight of the God- who was evidently the only thing she wanted to see. "Aellae." It was not the name itself that produced the moment but the way it came out to make you turn towards Loki.

You: *frown at the void* It was almost like he was recalling something he had...lost. Like that one book that you repeatedly read and then it just disappeared one day only for you to find out that you had yourself kept it in an ultimate secret place that you yourself forgot about. So, when you find it you feel guilty for facing it again. *breathless* *camera pans in* *looks at Javier* does this make sense? *blinks at Javier who is signing something* *frowns harder* What do you mean why it's gotten me all worked up? I mean *stutters and points in the distance* *camera pans in Loki and Aellae standing in the distance looking at each other and not really talking much* W-who knows what's the history there. Like is she a friend or foe? Or a fr-o. *camera pans back on your face* *tsks* of course, this doesn't make sense. None of this does. *looks at the pair and crosses her arms* *fumes at no one in particular*

"I thought I-" "Lost me?" Aellae simply smiled. "You should know better than that. After all, it is me, my love." There was no hesitation in the movement of your eyes when you looked at Loki for an answer to that statement. If it wasn't for the brilliant observation of this talented boy named Javier, one would not have caught the slight movement of his eyes when he wanted to glance at you from his peripheral vision while taking in a lungful. "My love," you stressed that last word to make sure Loki understood the question scratching beneath the sarcasm. There was a slight roll of his eyes followed by him completely closing them for one elongated moment. "I have been waiting for this day," Aellae continued, making a part of you itch for completely ignoring your presence, "when I finally found you again." The tilt of her head and that hollow gaze that tried to be soft gave her an eerie touch. "And to think I was only living on your memories till now." Aellae took a step forward and stopped when she found the God taking the lead with this one. In this situation, the angle mattered a lot. Because from where Lulu stood- right on your shoulder- it looked as if this stranger had taken a step where could she step right where the distance between her and you two was the same. From where Javier stood, his camera saw Loki step towards Aellae while completely blocking you from the boy's view. But what he did record was Loki bringing forward his hands for her. That hollowness in her eyes suddenly swirled into an ounce of mild ecstasy. when she put her hands in his and felt his thumbs rest on top of the back of her palms. "It has been one long while," he concluded, forcing Javier to walk- with quite the struggle- in the sand to pan in on this confusion fused with this piercing hint of disappointment on your face.

"I'm sorry," you sputtered, "come again?" "Title of your sex tape," he muttered under his breath. "Hm?" Aellae turned in question. "Nothing, my dearest," the God assured her before turning to answer your question. "I said you are on your own now. Look for a cavern at one of the oasis and they will drop you at a shelter. Hopefully." Your head did feel the just of surprise even though the last twenty seconds of their hand-holding had you all ready for a surprise. Words were being a stubborn bitch in your lungs- never escaping your mouth right this moment and all your could do was exhale and mock a burst of laughter at those words. "And then? And then what?" Your heated brain really could not think of anything else. Loki shrugged.

You: *shouting* THAT SON OF A BITCH SHRUGGED!!! *pointing at yourself* AT ME!!!

"I don't know. Look for a rainbow." Without another word, he turned back towards the woman. Just like that. The only sound was that of the wind running through the desert as you, Javier and Lulu watched Loki walk away with this strange creature. It took a minute for the little one figure out, for when he did, he pressed his stomach and stood up on your shoulder, his heart beating faster than it usually did. And when the realisation dawned on him, Lulu jumped to the ground to take a few steps in Loki's direction and yell for him to come back.

'Member the way You used to say I was your meaning? You'd always need me

You just stood there, dried lips parted, eyes shrinking under the gaze of the star, arms dangling with nearly no life in them. For a second there, Javier felt you were about to fall, for Lulu's camera caught the boy come to your side, ready for anything that was bound to happen.

Did you forget What that shit meant? You were my answer You were what mattered

But all you did was stand there with disappearing emotions just like those two disappeared with the last sand dune in front of you. With the last silhouette of Loki gone in sand, you closed your eyes, worrying your companions for that stretched moment.

Lived at your place Know the way that I taste Yeah, you know things Yeah, you know things

"He knows," you whispered to yourself, your brows furrowing together, your fingers curling into fists.

I met your mom Even got us a dog That ain't nothing, oh

A piercing scream came out of your lungs making the little floof jump five feet into the air to land away from you while Javier's camera recorded his three-second jolts before falling straight down from his hands.

Say you know me Say you know me Say you know me, know Say you know me Say you know me Say you know me

"HE FUCKING KNOWS!!!!" Your voice was at the edge of a massive breakdown, shaking while your eyes blurred themselves in this uncontrollable rage.

You always will

"That son of a bitch knows how bad it is for me alone in a strange land," you croaked, trying to kick some sand with your boots. Javier signed something from outside the frame to you. "Hey, you're not alone. I'm here too," Lulu's camera caught his words. You looked at him for five seconds. "You lost your socks while sleeping on your first day. You were wearing those bloody socks." Javier- clearly offended but also guilty- mocked a gasp as he took a few steps away from you. The soft strings of guitar added to the air around you looking in the distance where nothing could be seen now. No one. Sand for infinity and a few oases that did not lead to him.

Feet were dragged through the stubborn sand that let won't you walk straight. All the effort that was going into being angry was now running down towards your legs. But that did not stop you from fuming so hard that the camera could catch the difference in your features.

See, I know What it is, what it is, what it is, babe

But as the camera panned over your face, it seemed more of a sullen sulk and less of that rage you had just shown.

See, I know What it is, what it is

And were those tears in your eyes that you were trying to blink away? That you were trying to hide from Javier as much as possible?

Let me miss What it is, what it is, what it isn't Let me miss it Let me miss it

Giving up, you walked towards the first oasis in your way, populated generously by desert animals and a few nomads. The tents seemed somewhat similar to those you found on earth except for the spherical air pockets surrounding them to keep them cool. One of the nomads was kind enough to open the doorway for you and bow down in their own way, making the rainbow stone in his necklace reflect the starlight right into your eyes as you entered the place. "Did some order a seven-spice rainbow with a generous dash of sexy on the side?" The light that has just left your eyes came back with a sweet gasp. "My White Knight!" you nearly choked on your own joy. .

The camera felt itself shake when the rainbow drink was kept on the table. Thanking White, you dragged the sparkly fizzy thing towards you to get a taste. "So-" White furrowed his brows licked his lips in a thought- "you're saying Loki did leave you but he did not leave you." You just nodded, your lips not ready to leave the straw. "Easy," White ordered with a serious face, receiving a pinch from Green and Orange sitting next to him without looking away from you. Both of them seemed to be caught in a sweet trance that was clearly you. And when you finally did leave the straw, the elated sigh of a content throat made both of them close their eyes and smile. "Oh, God! This is so goooood," you exclaimed as no voice came out of you. "Y/N," your White Knight called out to you, "focus." You set the drink down and straighten yourself. "Yes, sir," you whispered. "Not that much of focus," he muttered while clearing his throat, adjusting himself where he sat. Violet rolled his eyes and sighed. "What do you mean when you say he did not leave you?" You looked at Violet and put your hands on the table. "I mean that I don't think he went with that woman....goddess...witch...whatever...on his own. I think he was kinda kidnapped." All the boys- except Orange- shared a look with each other. Orange was just too engrossed in you at this point. "Are you sure he just didn't go on his own?" Green stressed. "He would be one dumb bitch to leave me alone like that," you nearly shouted before going for that unicorn juice again. "There must've been a reason." Orange nodded vigorously in agreement. "Very dumb bitch," he tsked. "Because he knows I will kill him if he did-" you sipped the cold fizz- "and if I didn't, our family definitely will." The camera panned in the emotion of slight disbelief White felt as his eyes remained hollow while that smile was still stuck on his face. It took him a few seconds to bring himself to mutter, "our...family," and scratch an itch on his neck. "So," you burped and excused yourself, "before anyone from my home flies here just to kill him, I am going to rescue him." "Whaaa-at?" Sky mutters from behind the bar counter. "Help you go after some strange and powerful witch that we have absolutely no idea about?" Javier's camera- which Javier had in his hand as he stood right behind Sky- recorded the endless stash of weapons and potions kept behind the bar right there within Sky's reach. The camera especially zoomed in on the one bundle of spears marked 'Witch skewers: Do not wash, Do not touch. Poisonous'. "And that too on such a short notice?" Sky faked a laugh.

Sky: *tired* Of course we know Loki's been kidnapped. White: *casually* Of course, we'll help Y/N. Violet: *stone face* I'm down to hunt some bad girls any day. White: *sighs* I really wish we could leave him with his kidnapper though. *pause* *everyone mumbles in agreement* *silence resumes around the table* Orange: *thinking while looking at the void* but that would make Y/N sad. *nods and pouts around the table* Red: Once we rescue him, let's kidnap Y/N. *hums of agreement around the table*

"Okay-" you place the empty glass on the table and get up to look around the table before looking into Javier's camera, "let's go save a God today."

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #loki series #loki imagine #loki fluff #loki smut #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel fluff #loki #It's The Avengers #fluff #smut #fanfic #fanfiction

132 notes · View notes

fandomout · 4 years

Text

Platonic Dean and Sam Winchester-being there for the yellow fever illness

Not my gif

Longer Post

Finally, finding a case, you all drive toward the morgue for the death of Frank O’Brien. At the moment, you were trying to fighting the urge to laugh after seeing Dean be completely disgusted, especially when the mortician puts the heart in Dena’s hands. However, he perks up when blood spurts right onto Sam’s face. At first, you weren’t too concerned about the case until you noticed Dean’s odd behavior that began at the witness’s, Mark Hutchins’s, house.

Being at Mark’s house, you can’t miss the exotic pets that made Dean’s demeanor tense, which you realized was fright after he moved closer to you. About to joke about it, you got just as freaked out seeing a snake slide past your foot. With both of you freaking out, Sam gives you both a look, so you and Dean try to regain your composure. As Sam wrapped up the questions, Dean eyes Mark’s snake. Despite Mark trying to ward off any worry, as if on cue, a snake slithers right on Dean’s leg, and he looks like he’ll pass out. After wrapping up with Mark, Sam headed to the county clerks while you and Dean checked out Frank's place. Everything seemed relatively clean and supernatural free. After picking up Sam, you headed to a motel. As the drive goes on, Sam mentions that the information he got at the clerk’s office does nothing for their case.

While driving, it seems to be taking longer than usual as Dean’s speed is normal. You scoot up to be in view of Dean and say, “Woah! Dean, you're going so fast! Slow down!” Dean jumps and swerves the car a smidge. Panicked, he expresses, “Y/N, sit back and put on your seat belt! I’m driving here! That’s so dangerous....God.” Sam scoffs and comments, “Dean, you're going 20.”

“It is the speed limit.”

“Since when do you-whatever.” As they near the motel, Dean doesn't take the left hand turn. In response, Sam noted, “Dean, you missed the turn.”

“Sam, I am not going to make a left hand turn into oncoming traffic. I’m not suicidal.”

“You’re being weird.”

“Safety a crime now?” As they park across the street from the motel, Dean seems hesitant to cross. You notice his gaze dart toward the broken street light blinking only red. “Maybe we should head down two blocks down there and go all the way around. It’s safer. Sounds good.”

“Dean, it’ll be fine.”

“Sam, the light is broken.” Feeling a bit bad for him, you put a hand on his shoulder and tell him, “Dean, it’ll be fine as long as you know when to cross. Not to mention, there are no cars right now.”

“One could come out of nowhere. I’ll take my chances down the b-”

”Would it make you feel better if you hold onto me?”

“I-Fine.” Sam’s already across the street, and he cackles at the sight of you helping Dean across the street. In mocking tone, through laughter, Sam manages to utter, “Oh, does grandma need help across the street?”

“Shut up!” Dean responds and holds onto your arm for support. Finally making it across, Dean breathed out like he’d been holding his breath the whole way, so you patted his back. While he regained some kind of stability, you asked him, “All better?” He gave you a small smile and replied, “Much.” You all settle into the room, and you ask Sam about Dean’s behavior. Sam responds, “He is being a little weird. That being said, if you haven't noticed, he is a weird guy sometimes.”

“So, this is normal?”

“Sorta.” Sam was walking around, and his EMF went off. All of you rose you guard with Dean have panic written on his face. Sam pulls it out and tries to find the source and finds out that it’s only on Dean. Dean’s face lights up in fear. You tried to reassure him with the words, “Let’s just calm down.” He only freaked out more and responded, “Calm down?! I’ve got a ghost on my ass!” You and Sam couldn't help let out a small laugh at that, but Dean’s glare made you stop. You uttered, “Sorry. Look, we’ll figure this out.” In which, Sam added, “Right.” Sam made Dean sit down on the bed and stated, “I’ll let Bobby know about everything. I’m sure he can help.”

You sat on the opposite bed of Dean’s to try figure anything out. After a few minutes, Sam gets off the phone with Bobby relatively quickly, and he turns to both of you to say, “I’m going to get us some food. I'll be back.” Rushed, Dean comments, “Careful on the streets. Those things were really bumpy.” Dean takes off his shoes and gets onto the bed. He sighs and covers his eyes. Sam gives you a small smile and heads out. You gently ask, “Dean, do you want me to turn off the light?”

“No! No. Who knows what’ll happen?”

“Right...Want to play a game to take your mind off of-off of...it?”

“If you mean drinking games, then yes.”

“Anything else you’d be interested in?”

“Probably not.”

“How about-”

“I think I’d rather be left alone.”

“Alright. I’ll be in the bed right next to you if you need anything.” You told him and tried once again to shed any light on what was happening. When Sam comes back, you are all grateful to eat as it was the only thing to take from the situation at hand. After eating, Sam sighs heavily and stretches. Hearing all the cracks in his back, you cringe a little bit, which makes him smile. Then, he tells you , ”I think I’m gonna shower and sleep. Just like an hour or two. I really need it.” You nod and respond, “That’s a good plan. I’m just gonna look at my notes one more time and get sleep.”

“Hey, don’t get carried away. Honestly, I think Bobby is gonna solve this like always, so we need our energy for whatever he comes up with.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

You were sitting at the table when you heard Dean call out, “Y/N...” You walked over to the side of his side and asked, “What’s up?”

“Well, we’re all about to head to sleep some, right?” You nodded slowly at him. “If I’m gonna-” He scratches his arm. “Get any sleep. I-Can you sleep with me?” He sounded pretty broken up about it, which made you utter, “I-Sure. Just let me change.” You walked over to your things and took out your clothes. You walked over to the opposite side of the room and went behind the wall to change out of Dean’s view. After putting the clothes back, you walked over to Dean’s bed. Hesitantly, you sat down before laying next to him. He seemed to really need it. Although willing, you didn’t know where to put your hands and kept fidgeting. Similarly, Dean was moving about too because of his restless thoughts and feelings. He was even huffing out. Without thinking, you asked him, “Are you still scared?”

“Yup, and it doesn't seem to be going anywhere.”

“Right. Right. That was a dumb question.” He turns his head toward you and asks, “This is weird isn’t it?”

“What part?”

“All of it.”

“Yeah I guess.”

“Not only whatever this is, but it's a little crazy to think we’re in the same bed.”

“Right. Odd.” He breathes out a laugh and says, “Odd. Yeah…”

“Yet here we are.”

“It is a bit crazy. We don’t know each other too well...” You turn on your side with your back to him, and he does the same. The weird awkwardness provides small relief from his head that’s now constantly full of fear and anxiety, which brings a small smile to his lips. Although Sam and you have been asleep for at least 2 hours now, Dean wasn’t even half as lucky. Dean doesn't manage much sleep as he scratches his arm most of the night and is in more of a half-awake half-asleep state. At around 4:30, Dean decides it’s pointless and gets out of bed. He heads to the fridge and takes out a beer. He looked out the window to see the sun was coming up soon. He decided to walk around for the hell of it. He was looking in the cabinets even though he was sure they’d be empty. He found some empty plastic cups. He decided to make use of at least one of them by filling it with water and laying it on Sam’s forehead. Dean had to keep himself from chuckling and stifled his laugh, which alerted you. You stirred in bed, and the sun reached your eyes. You groaned at it and looked over to Dean. Then, you looked over to the clock. It was 4:55.

“Why are you up?” You said in a deeper tone since it’s the first thing in the morning.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He responded. You sat up and were more awake now as your eyes filled with worry, and you asked, “All night?”

“More like a few hours but yeah.” You get off the bed and stand up. About to walk toward the bathroom, you stopped abruptly and looked over to Sam. You smiled at Dean but told him. “Seriously? What are you five?”

“I had to keep busy.”

“Come on, Dean, don’t do this to him.”

“It’ll be hilarious.” You sigh as you try to decide to let this happen or not. After a few more seconds, you give a shrug before grabbing clothes and heading into the bathroom. You showered and changed quickly in hopes you wouldn’t miss the spectacle of Sam. Getting out of the bathroom, you start brushing your hair when you see the water spill all over Sam. Sam gasps and jolts out of bed. He runs his hand through his hair looking confused and panicked. Dean and you laugh out. In a deep tone, Sam says, “Seriously, dude.” Dean shrugged and responded with a smirk and the words, “I had some time on my hands.” Sam waved him off and said, “Whatever. Y/N if you're just about ready, why don’t we go for a walk and get some food.”

“I guess.”

“You’re gonna leave me alone?” Dean asked. Sam smirks and says, “You betcha.”

“Fine. Bring me back doughnuts.”

“First I’m gonna need to change and dry my hair since I’m all wet.” Sam goes to the bathroom and Dean follows. “What are you doing, man?”

“I’m gonna shower.”

“Could you give me a second?” Dean smiles and responds, “Uh. No.” before he just started taking all his clothes off and hops in the shower. The water started running, and Sam was drying his hair with a towel. Suddenly, Sam grumbles, “Dean?” Dean responds with, “Yeah?” while sticking his head out of the shower.

“I have a concern-”

“Can you speak normal for once Sam? It wouldn't kill you unless you're a robot like I’ve always suspected.”

“Dean, be serious.” Dean sighs, rolls his eyes and goes back into shower, but he facts interest and asks, “Oh, what is it, Sam?”

“Last night, Y/N was sleeping in your bed because?”

“What does it matter for? It’s not like we did anything.”

“Are you sure about that? Dean, I don’t know if you noticed, but Y/N happens to get along with you, me, and Bobby? We’re all completely different-”

“The point, Sammy.”

“Are you coming onto them?” Dean sticks his head out a let's a playful smile lay on his lips before laughing out a bit and saying, “Am I-Sam, I have a question for you. Do you have a cru-”

“Stop asking about that. Answer my question.” Sam says and starts changing.

“Sam, if I were, you wouldn't have to ask.”

“No? I think If anything, I’d have to ask because Y/N is different.”

“Yeah. Yeah sure. Don’t worry, I had a moment where I wanted someone in bed, asked, they said yes. Are you gonna give Y/N the same talk?”

“No.”

“Come-”

“I’ll see you.”

“Wait, let me finish showering.”

“Bye Dean.” Dean rushes out, hardly covering anything up. While surprised at the sight, you do nothing. Sam follows your gaze to dean. He rolls his eyes before covering your eyes with his large hands. Sam is about to yell at Dean when Dean huffs and says, “How dare you leave me there alone? Ya jerk!” Sam scoffs at him, waves him off before saying, “Y/N, let’s go.”

“Go-Go-Good Idea.” You respond. He leads you outside. Before the door closes, Dean manages to say, “Don’t forget the donuts!” Sam removes his hand from your eyes and tells you, “Sorry about him.”

“Yeah. That was somethin. What do you think is up with him? Like what he has or whatever?”

“Yeah. I really don’t have much of a theory. None of this is making any sense.”

“The closest I can think of is a curse but like a special one than again a curse is special in itself. There are specific targets-I just can't understand how Dean could be the only one infected. We were with him all day yesterday.”

“I’m sure Bobby had it figured out.”

“Our saving hope.” You stop at a dinner, eat, get doughnuts for Dean, and get information from Bobby before heading back to the motel. As you get to the motel, your heads look over to the loud music playing in the impala see Dean’s movement; then it becomes clear that Dean is jamming out. As Dean sees both of you come up, he turns down the music and gets out of the car. Barely getting out of the car, he starts scratching vigorously. They relay the sickness to Dean. Dean whines about the room they are in being too high, so Sam changes it. Even with the room change, Dean’s anxiety seemed to elevate. You had gone down to the library and snagged a book or two that could help you learn more even if Bobby had already given you everything in words. You got back to the motel just as Sam is about to leave, and you ask, “Where are going?” In response, he tells you, “I’m gonna go find out what happened to Jesse O’Brien’s body.” You accept that and are about to go inside when Sam purposely purposely puts himself in front of you with his back to Dean and says, “I might also bring food back. I’m hoping you can watch him?”

“Sure.” You responded.

With not much to do, you were still looking into yellow fever when you notice Dean reading one of the books. With every second, he seemed to be getting more jittery. You walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, which made him flinch away. Trying to figure out what’s happening, you say, “Dean, how ya doing?” He doesn’t respond, you reach down to the book and state, “Maybe stop looking at that.” Although right next to him, he couldn’t hear any of it as delusions filled his head. He suddenly stood and punched the clock on the wall before bolting toward the fridge and getting a beer. He strides over to the couch and rocked back a bit on it. You sat down cautiously on the single couch far from him. He noticed your gaze and mumbled, “I’m good.”

“Dean...I know you’re scared and anxious. Umm...Find the logic. It helps with the fear and anxiety...Breathing is good...Action remind out of what's-”

“Are you some kind of expert? Always trying to therapize us.”

“I don’t know if expert is the right word, but I know a bit about fear and anxiety...The anxiety part...it’s a struggle...”

“I don’t think anything can help.”

“Right…”

“But, thanks.” He says and starts scratching at his arm. You wave him off and state, “Stop scratching at that. Do I need to buy mittens to stop you?”

“I’m not a child.”

“Right about now...I mean it’s pretty darn close.” You trail off. He makes a face and moves his head back and forth. You stood and mentioned, “I think I know a cream for anti-itch. I’ll go get it.”

“You think it’ll work. This isn’t some regular smellular-”

“I don’t know, but it’s worth a shot. Don’t scratch, drink water, and I’ll be back.” You leave a bottle of water next to him and head out. Quickly, after getting to the nearest store, you checked out the cream and headed back to the motel. As soon as you walked into the room, you see Dean having a coughing fit before running over to the sink. You and Sam rushed to follow him. You pat his back while Dean coughs up blood and a wood chip. Instantly, you say, "Oh my gosh, Dean!" Dean raises the wood chip and washes it to reveal engraved symbols. Sam reveals that Dean is a clue much to Dean’s discontent. “What exactly happened while I was gone?” You ask and take out a bandana from your pocket and wipe a bit of blood from Dean’s mouth and hand him a nearby water bottle. Then, you apply the cream you bought while Sam explains, “Well, Frank’s wife was cremated, and we need to head to the factory.”

“Wait a second, Dean is the cream working?”

“A little I think.” You and Sam head to the factory with Dean waiting in the car. You and Sam get beat up by the ghost of Luther. Quickly, after, you head to question Luther's brother; however, Dean decided to come with because he didn’t want to wait in the car alone; however, it gave Dean the chance to seriously consider what being a hunter means, which only made him overwhelmed enough to run away. Sam leans over the impala exasperated. You pat Sam’s back and say, “We’ll find him. I’m gonna go steal a car, so we cover more ground.”

“Thank you.” As you're driving, he calls to say, “I’m on the west side of town. We could split it in half.”

“Sounds good.” a silence hangs and you feel the need to tell him, “Sam, we’re gonna find him”

“Can we not talk about it?”

“Fine. Fine. Did you know multiple octopus amounts to calling them octopi?”

“Umm-” You hear him let out a small chuckle.

“Was that off topic enough?”

“So random.”

“But, it was good.”

“If you say so-”

“Gotcha laughing.”

“You-I’m hanging up now.” You could swear he was smiling a bit in his words before he hung up. Despite feeling uneasy, you found Sam’s laughter to be a small comfort. After both of you confirmed that Dean wasn't anywhere in town, you agreed to head back to the motel. Sam walks up to Dean, and Dean seems to be choking on air. Sam takes hold of Dean’s shoulders and pats him while saying, “Hey, Dean. Dean. Dean.” Suddenly, Dean snaps out of it and let's out a harsh breath. Sam lets him go and rubs at his eyes. “You good?” Dean silently nods. Both of them tense, you tell them, “Both of you take a seat.” Immediately, they both sit down simultaneously. You give them water and walk over to the book on the table to try and find out anything that can to help kill Luther. You called Bobby to bounce ideas off of, but it was all just really difficult. The conversation cut short after you said, “If only there were a way to scare a ghost off.”

“Y/N, you’re a genius. Got to go.” He hung up. Sam suddenly gets a call, which ends quickly. He walks up to you to say, “I’m going to head out with Bobby. He thinks he’s found a way to beat this.”

“What is it?”

“Bobby’s not too sure yet, but I should get to him quickly.”

”Shouldn't I be helping?”

“I don’t think Dean should be alone.”

“We don’t need you there...I-I need you here.” You gave him a nod, and he headed out.

Dean comes out of the bathroom, and you tell him about Bobby and Sam. he responds with, “Great. Nothing left to do but wait here.” He gets a beer and sits on the couch.

“They’ll be back soon.”

“You really are my babysitter aren’t you?”

“Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Cold?”

“No.”

“How abou-”

“Stop! Just...Go near the beds or something.”

“Fine if that makes you feel better.” You responded frankly. You decided to finish the additions to her journals. However, it didn't take long before you decided to keep researching in case Bobby and Sam don’t find a way.

Suddenly, a large banging comes from the door, which makes you jump. You looked over to Dean, who seemed to just be freaking out. You motioned him to get back and to the other side of the room as you grabbed your gun, but he stayed frozen in place. You forcefully grabbed at him and moved him before you stopped right next to the edge of the door. With three more pounds from whoever, the door burst open. Your eyes land on the sheriff. You charge into his side, which knocks him against the door roughly giving him a head wound. However, the fear in his eyes gives him strength to gun whip your head three times with no mercy. You tumbled to the ground roughly. You shake your head as you see double, and your vision blanking in and out. Blood gushes out of your head, but you don't pay attention to it. You move forward unsteadily and almost aimlessly.

Moving forward, Frank seems to be saying something, but you can't make out anything. You spent the time trying to get up and continuously fumbling. You watch as Al’s figure hits Dean. You lunge forward but don’t make it very far. You think about shooting but don't trust yourself. Dean is suffocating, and you just use all you have to move forward and grab onto Al. With the help of Dean, you both end up throwing Al onto the glass table. Your hearing comes back into focus, and you hear Dean say to Al, “You need to calm down.” Within a few seconds, Al starts to have a heart attack. You wobble your way over, but Al stops moving quickly. You check for Al’s pulse and state, “He’s dead.” You stand up a little too fast and almost fall over nothing. You shake your head. Dean’s eyes look right to your gushing head. With a bite to his lip, he states, “That’s a lot of blood.” He looks like he’ll pass out. Quickly, you cover your wound with your hands and walk over to get the first aid kit. You hear him breathing harshly. You try to reassure with the words, “Dean, I know this is crazy, but let’s just breathe. In and out. In and out.” He listens and starts to breathe a little better. Carelessly, you wipe the blood as best as you can. You hear a whimper from him, followed by him uttering, “Oh God. I’m gonna die.” Without reviewing the damage to your head, you put on gauze and tape, so you could calm him down. You reach to hopefully put him into a pressurized hug; however, he doesn’t give you the chance as he paces around while saying, “I’m gonna die. Can’t go back-Hell-Their gonna get me!” You forget the hug as you think it’ll scare him more and just grab his hand. He squeezes hard enough to leave bruises. He starts having a conversation with himself, but you can't make sense of it. Suddenly, he shrivels into himself and holds his heart, which makes him let go of your hand and fall to the ground. You kneel down beside him. Although terrified, you calmly look him in the eyes and firmly says, “Dean, It’s okay. I’ve got you.” You start doing chest compression. You mutter, “Let's see how these chest compressions do against the supernatural.”

Within seconds, his body stops moving, but you don't falter for a moment. Out of nowhere, he gasps out air. You stop and help him sit up. Out of breath, you manage to breath out the words, “Oh. Thank you.” His expression reading dazed before it changes into some sort of relief, and he pulls you into a hug. You pat his back comfortingly. In a happy tone, he says, “I can't believe I’m alive.” He pulls away with a smile. You respond with a smile yourself and tell him, “Nice-Nice to see you smile again. You-” You stop speaking. You can’t seem to from the words. Then, you can't even keep yourself up, so your head begins dipping forward. He uses his arms to pull you into him. Confused, he asks, “Y/N?” He peels back your gauze to see the bloody mess. “Y/N?!” He lifts you in his arms, and he lays you on a bed. He rushed over to the first aid. Frantically searching for a needle and thread, he yells out, “Dammit!” After finding it, he does as best he can before he carefully takes hold of your body and tries to put you in the backseat comfortably.

Quickly, he speeds to the nearest hospital room, and they take you into the emergency room. For about an hour, he waits patiently; In that time, Sam calls him, and Dean answers with, “Yello.” Both of them let out a relieved sigh, and Sam responds, “You’re alive. Good.”

“Can’t keep me down.”

“Are you okay?”

“Relatively, yeah.”

“We’re at the warehouse.”

“I’ll be there after this.”

“After what?”

“I’m at the hospital.”

“Hospital?! You said you were-”

“I am fine. It’s Y/N. Which reminds me, I left our stuff back at the motel. You’ll need to get that.”

“How bad is it?”

“I don’t know. They passed out, but it might just look worse than it wa-” Dean sees the doctor and hangs up the phone. When the doctor goes up to Dean, they tell him, “They just needed a few stitches. I’d give them pain medication, but we-”

“No, it’s probably better if you don’t.”

“Okay. Well, you can see them now.” Dean pulls up next to you on the bed. After 10 minutes, he sees you move more aggressively. He’s about to reach out for your arm when you jolted up panic ridden. Starting to hyperventilate, your eyes move around everywhere. Your breathing returns back to normal when Dean grabs onto your arms gently. He firmly says, “Everything is okay. Everything is okay.” Your vision focuses and meets his eyes. You relax in your seating position and weakly state, “You're alive. Good.”

“Yeah. How’s the head?”

“I don’t know. Everything hurts right now...Are you okay?”

“Fine. No more sickness.”

“Go-Good.” Your breath comes out harshly and in a shaky way. Dean hesitantly asks, “Why so upset? We got the job done.”

“All of the events of the last hour. I felt your heart stop and all this crazy stuff. It was just all wash over me. Sorry.”

“Sorry? What for?”

“Just-” He hugs you once more. In a whisper, he gently tells you, “Thank you...The past day, you’ve been taking care of me. I can’t complain. Thanks, Y/N for helping me...or whatever...” You hug him back while rubbing his back and reply, “You’re welcome, Dean.”

Hope your day got better

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weasleypogues · 4 years

Text

first kegger of the summer (j.m.)

request: Oof I’ve never requested anything for outerbanks but I see you want some requests so maybe one where the reader has had drinks here and there but has never actually gotten drunk and she does one day at a party and JJ loves that she felt comfortable enough to do that around him but he stops drinking to sober up and be able to take care of her when she gets home and stuff?? And could they already be dating??? If you’re not comfortable with this I totally understand, baby! Thanks either way ❤️❤️❤️

master list.

i really hope i did your initial envision justice!!

also i feel bad bc i feel like i did more actions than actual dialogue but actions speak louder than words yanno

it was the first kegger of the summer and needless to say you were ecstatic. after finally finishing up the school year from hell, you were excited to go back to your dumb pogue shit with your best friends. already at the boneyard was you, the rest of your group, and a couple of other pogues from the island. it was chill and you were glad to say you felt comfortable.

“soooo....you’re gonna drink tonight right? like go off kinda drink if you know what i mean?” kiara asked you with what you thought was a little devilish smile and she jabbed her elbow into your side.

you laughed and rolled your eyes, leaning away from her elbow. “yes kie, matter of fact i am. i gotta start living a little and why not do that with the people i trust the most.”

“people....or person?” kie questioned you with raised eyebrows and a smirk as her eyes traveled back and forth between you and your boyfriend, jj, talking to pope at the keg.

“okay yes jj, but all of you. but definitely jj.” you responded with a wide grin and your face feeling hot. it’s like jj could feel your eyes on him and looked over at you, sending a wink your way.

almost as if he was reading your mind he poured a cup and lifted it out in the open as if to say ‘want it?” you raised your eyebrows and nodded, leaving your spot next to kie as she talked to some pogue about astrology and walked up to jj.

“damn (y/n/n), i didn’t think you’d actually take it.” jj teased you as you took a sip.

“just feel like it’s now or never, yanno. i trust you guys enough to know that nothing bad is going to happen....or should i rephrase, nothing too bad is going to happen.” you responded, ending your statement with a kiss on his cheek that soon turned into a kiss as he grabbed your face and pulled you in.

as you turn around to make your way back to kie, you specifically put a little sway into your hips as you walk away from jj, completely knowing he’s going to check you out as you walk away. you take a quick sneak peek back at him and see him dropping his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose with his mouth slightly parted, taking the scene in front of him in. you giggle and shake your head as you take your seat next to kie yet again.

“want this?” jj asks pope with absolutely no explanation. pope glances over the top of his cup with a skeptical look on his face.

“what’d you do to it?” pope asked defensively, his eyes narrowed on jj’s face. jj rolls his eyes and forces it into pope’s hands.

“nothing, i just don’t feel like finishing it.” jj answers, waving his hand to prompt pope to down the smidge of alcohol that was left in his cup. pope shrugs and downs the rest of it.

“was there a reason you didn’t finish it?” pope asked, throwing it into the black plastic bag they had for a makeshift trashcan. pope didn’t even need an answer as he followed jj’s eyes focused on you finishing your first drink of it night.

it didn’t take long for the giddy and buzzed feeling to kick in. it made you feel almost invincible, carefree, and wild. however, nothing in your brain told you to stop to get another cup. but no one was really stopping you so how bad could it be?

the music was blasting and you were dancing next to kiara and sarah, letting the slight vibrations from the song run through your body as the sounds coincide with the crashing waves to the right of you. here and there you take sarah and kie’s hands and twirl them playfully or belt lyrics at the top of your lungs. either way, this is the night you initially envisioned. it could’ve easily lasted for hours and you wouldn’t know any better.

however, you were quickly snapped out of it when you spotted jj a couple of yards away, just admiring you from afar. you smiled immediately with a goofy-drunk grin and made your way over to where he was sitting on the sand, near the campfire.

“i think-i think you should join us babe.” you practically slurred as you held your hand out for him to take. a devilish grin replaced his content one as he took your hand and pulled you down to the sand with him to hold you in his arms.

it took a couple of seconds for your tipsy brain to process what happened but you just smilled and giggled as you felt his arm wrap from the left side of your shoulder and make it’s way to sit on your right one. you let your chin lean against his arm but lazily let your head sway to lean against his bicep as your hands curled around his forarm.

it wasn’t long until sarah and kie made their way back to the fire aswell and sat next to pope and john b.

you and jj didn’t notice, but john b nudged pope in his side slightly to get his attention until he pointed towards you and jj for pope to follow his lead.

“hey, (y/n/n), how drunk are you on a scale of 1-10?” john b inquired with a wide grin on his face and chuckled afterwards. jj threw his head back and laughed as the three of them waited for your answer.

you lazily lifted your hand and counted on your hands, “one, two, three......probably a nine.” you answered with a grin, your eyes practically closed. pope and john b started laughing hysterically.

“only took you a couple of keggers to finally get you outta your shell!” pope proclaimed. john b lifted his cup up in the air, while pope and jj were quick to follow with their cups of water and even though everyone around had no idea what they were lifting their cups to, they all followed.

“to the outer banks!” john b called out and everyone just cheered in response and downed their drinks as well. you lifted your imaginary cup slowly with a giddy grin on your face and pretended to take it. jj couldn’t help but admire every move you made. all he knew was he was glad you were a happy and funny drunk. he liked the way you continued to playfully bite your lip or ran your fingers through your hair. your eyes were pretty glossy but you would just stare up at him and admire his baby blue ones, and just his face overall. he would subtly blush as your gaze and give you small kisses over your entire face.

“wanna go? we should get you into bed before you fall asleep anywhere but a bed.” jj whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. you sluggishly nodded. even though it was kind of difficult to get up because all your sense of balance seemed to leave your body, jj wrapped his arm around your waist.

the way home would’ve been quiet if it weren’t for the drunk comments you made towards him such as “i love youuu” or “your hair is fantastic” or his personal favorite “even though i don’t approve of it, when you fight someone it’s sooo fucking hot”. he’d obviously compliment you back and made sure you knew that he loved you as well.

there were a couple of times were he would say “i know i keep saying this, but if you feel sick at anytime before we get back to your house, let me know, we can stop at the side of the road.” you would always just nod and take sips here and there from your water bottle.

“you’re so fucking adorable and funny drunk.” he said with a smile on his face.

“ugh stop, you’re too good to me.” you’d slur back as you playfully hit his arm.

when you got home, you notice the lights in your house were off. jj let out an internal sigh of relief, as he didn’t even think of the scenario of what he would say to your parents when you stumbled into the house in his arms. he took the key out of your backpack as you sat on your front stoop with your head in your hands. at this point, you weren’t feeling that great and were definitely getting the spins. he opened the door, shoving the key back in his pocket and helped you off of the ground.

“we’re gonna be as quiet as we can be when we go up to stairs, i’ll help you get ready for bed and you can take two advil in advance before you knock out, yeah?” he whispered as his both of his thumbs rubbed back and forth soothingly on both of your hands. you nodded without saying a word and held one of his hands. he let you lead the way and acted as a catcher behind you in the case if you lost your balance, he’d be there behind you to catch you.

thankfully, you made it to your room and laid face down on your bed as you somewhat heard jj rumaging through your drawers.

“these shorts and this shirt okay?” he asked before turning around. he noticed you were face down and chuckled to himself before placing them on the bed next to you.

“can you put these on for me while i get you another water bottle and advil?” jj asked and he ran his hands over your head. you nodded into your blanket and slowly got up, lethargicaly undressing yourself as jj helped himself to your kitchen and cabinet to get everything he needed.

“that didn’t take long.” jj said outloud and laughed, as you were in your pajamas and pretty much tucked into bed, making sure you plugged your phone in. after you took the advil with no help, jj grabbed your trash can and moved it over to the right side of your bed.

“the rest of the water is on your night stand, your phone is charging, and the trash can is on the right also. anything else babe?” he asked, whispering not to be too loud.

“i haveeee the spinss.” you whined, placing your hands over your eyes as if that was going to stop them. he gave you a pouty face that could barely hide his smile and chuckle.

“i know, (y/n/n). but they’ll go away soon. anything else?” jj asked, as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. you nodded slightly as your reached your arms out in front of you.

“can you stay the night, babe?” you asked in a tone that jj could not refuse whatsoever. he lightly smiled to himself before turning off your lamp and taking off your shoes.

“anything for you.” he responded, almost excitedly before lifting the covers and pulling your body close to his. jj gave you a kiss on the top of your head before you two fell asleep almost immediately.

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janicho88 · 4 years

Text

Come Back

Paring- Dean x Reader

Summary- You push Dean away when a monster attacks, and end up with a small injury instead of him. How does Dean repay you? By telling you to get out. Where will you go, what are you going to do now? Will you find your way back, or does fate have other plans?

Warnings-Lot of angst, Little, I mean little fluff in this one. Language, just a few words. Angry Dean, upset reader, Major character injury and hospitalization, possible brain injury.

A/N This story decided to take its own course. It was only going to have a smidge of angst, and well this happened. I’m sorry. There will be a part 2.

It had been a rough hunt, you all thought you were on a salt and burn for a vengeful spirit terrorizing a retreat. Turns out it was a couple of werewolves changing their tactics, picking off the participants. One of the werewolves took you all by surprise when it snuck up behind Dean and grabbed for him. You quickly pushed him out of the way as the werewolves claws came down, tearing through your side. The boys quickly fired off shots taking out that one. Turning they quickly got its friend who came at you next

Dean never spoke to you as you all cleaned up the mess and left. Sam had helped you quickly with your cuts and you headed back to the bunker. Exiting Baby, and walking inside you barely made it into the War room before Dean started yelling at you. He told you how reckless you were, how you were going to get them hurt, and you were in the way. They would be better off if you weren’t hunting, or around anymore. When you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore you responded with a ‘fine’ and headed to your room. You collapsed crying on your bed, you just hadn’t wanted Dean to get hurt.

It was well past midnight when you had calmed down, you began gathering your belongings in your duffel bags. If they boys didn’t want you here, you would leave. You left a note for Sam that just said, Be safe. Heading to your car, you tossed your things in and took off for Jody’s.

A week later Jody had heard the boys were on a case nearby. You didn’t want to chance running into them so you left quickly to take a hunt in Washington. That had been the last time you talked with Jody. You didn’t want to risk talking to the guys friends, and making Dean even madder at you. Since you left neither of them had tried to contacted you.

You were on your own taking hunt after hunt, to the point you didn’t care if you made it. You had been friends with the guys since you were kids, had moved into the bunker two years ago, and been fighting your feelings for Dean for years. It had been just over two months since you left, that was the longest you had ever gone without talking to one of them, it definitely hit you hard.

You were in Minnesota, and had to break down and ask Donna for help with a Vamp’s nest. Donna hadn’t seen you in a while and when you got out of your car at the motel, she had to hide her shock. There were dark circles under your eyes, it looked like you hadn’t been sleeping much if at all, and you definitely had lost weight.

“Hey lady, how are you doin?” she asked.

“Fine, Donna. Thanks for the backup on this. How have you been?”

“You Betcha! Good, all good. Saw Jody and the girls last week.”

“How are they?”

“They’re all good. So um have you talked to the guys..”

“Don’t go there Donna,” you interrupted.

You two went to the office and got a room to share. You had a little bit of work to do on the case before you could hit the nest. After splitting up and gathering information from police and victims you met back at the hotel. Putting everything you had together you were ready for the next day, and Donna went to sleep. While she was out, you sharpened your machete, and looked over your plan again before crashing for a few hours.

The next morning went well in regards to you both making it out alive, uninjured was another story. You only made it out because Donna had quick reflexes. After beheading 5 vamps you were slowing and missed one behind you. Donna turned just in time to take it down. Neither of you had any serious injuries, a few bumps, bruises, and you had minor cuts where one of the vamps had gotten a hold of you and bitten.

Cleaning up back at the hotel Donna got on you about taking better care of yourself. You told her you were fine and walked into the bathroom shutting the door. Donna was asleep when you came out after your shower. You wrote her a note thanking her for her help and telling her you were sorry, but had to get on the road. You walked out and hit the road alone again.

It was a few weeks later when you got a call from Jody. Alex’s birthday was coming up and they were going to have a party at Donna’s cabin. She really wanted you to join them. You told her you would try, but were unable to make any promises. You weren’t going to bring them up but had a feeling the guys would be there, and you weren’t sure if you were up to seeing them. Sam had texted you a few times, but you hadn’t responded. Dean never tried to get a hold of you.

Day of the party you pulled up to the old cabin, sure enough, Baby, was parked amongst the other cars. You sat staring at the cars debating what to do. Go in for Alex, or let the fear of running into Dean keep you away. A tapping at your window had you jumping in your seat Turning your head you saw Sam standing outside your car. Opening your door you exited the car.

“Hey, I wasn’t sure if I should come out or not. After a half hour passed without you getting out I figured I would come see you before you just drove off again.”

He gave you a hug and you said “Hi, Sam.”

“That’s all I get, hi? You have been gone four months without a word. How are you, where have you been?”

“I’m fine, been here and there.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“What do you want me to say, Sam? I was told to leave, that you both would be better off!”

“You know how Dean gets after one of us gets hurt, especially if it is to save him. He was worried, yes, he took it out all wrong. He misses you, we both do.”

“I highly doubt that,” you respond walking past Sam toward the cabin.

Entering the house Jody and Charlie were the first people you ran into. The fiery red head quickly wrapped you in a big hug, Jody quickly following. You spoke with both of them for a few minutes, catching up on what you missed over the last few months before moving further into the cabin. You were searching out the birthday girl when you headed toward the kitchen. As you rounded the corner you saw Dean in there and quickly turned the other way. Back already turned, you missed the way Dean’s head shot up with a hopeful look that fell swiftly when he saw you were retreating from him.

Walking back into the living room you saw Donna talking with Alex and Claire and joined that group. Donna and Alex both giving you a hug, while Claire gave you a “what’s up runner?”.

Claire had been talking about a hunt she went on with Jody, while Alex filled you all in on her classes and work. When Donna went to check on Dean who was in charge of the grill, and Claire was occupied by Castiel, Alex asked if you wanted to join her out front.

“What’s wrong birthday girl?”

“I just needed some air, too many people in there for me.”

“Well it is a party, you know, for you.”

“It’s a party I didn’t want. Love you all, but I’m not the big party type. You are the reason for the party, my birthday is the excuse to get you here.”

“What are you talking about Alex?”

“We all know what’s going on with you, you are avoiding everyone. So we came up with a reason to get you to come around. Jody bought me concert tickets to agree.”

“I’m fine, there was no need to do this.”

“Yes, there was. We are all worried about you, Dean especially. He’s constantly talking to Jody and Donna about you, a get together was his idea. We just added the why.

“Dean made it clear, he doesn’t want me around. The man never even tried to contact me, and you and Sam want me to think he cares about how I’m doing.”

“He really does.”

“I can’t do this,” You turned and walked back in the cabin to grab your coat and keys, it was time to go.

Donna and Sam were standing near your coat when you went to grab it.

“Hey where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Time for me to go.”

“You barely got here, it’s Alex’s birthday, stay awhile.”

“Right it’s her party you apparently threw because of me, I need to go, don’t worry about me anymore.”

Dean saw you grabbing your things and heading outside. “Y/N, Y/N wait please!”

“I don’t want to talk to you, why should I Dean?”

“I need to talk to you please, stop!”

You stopped walking, but didn’t turn around. “Why know, after four months, why do you suddenly care about talking to me?”

“I have always cared about you, I didn’t think you would have left or ignored us for the last four months, I never thought you would have been hunting on your own.”

“You told me you were better off without me! Did you really expect me to stick around?”

“I was an idiot, I figured you would have ignored me for the night, maybe the next day. When Sam said you were gone I called Donna and Jody, and Jody said you were at her house. I thought you would stay there for a few days, then come home. We took a hunt close by, I was going to come get you and apologize, but you were gone. You’ve been running nonstop, you need a break! You and I both know you shouldn’t be hunting alone.”

You just stood there with you back to Dean, not answering him.

“Forgive me, don’t forgive, hell don’t even talk to me anymore! I don’t care as long as you come back, and I know you're safe and not hunting alone. Please Y/N!” You turned around when you heard the break in Dean’s voice, and there were tears on his face to match.

“Please, don't run again, let’s go back inside. When we leave tonight, I wish you would come back to the bunker. If you can’t do that at least go to Jody or Donna’s, don’t go back on your own. I need to know your safe,” he begged.

“Why do you care about where I am now? You said it yourself, I’ve been gone four months, if you really wanted to know where I was or talked to me you could have tried calling.”

“Sam called you, you never answered.”

“Right, Sam did. But never you, you didn’t care where I was!”

“NO! I was worried sick about you! If you’re not going to answer Sam, why in the hell would you answer ME? I called other hunters and asked if they saw you to let me know without telling you. I went after you so many times, but by the time I got the call and got there you were gone. That Vamp’s case you took with Donna? I woke her up at 2 am pounding on the door, but you had already left.”

“You wanted me to leave, and I didn’t want to stick around your friends get yelled at from you again. I don’t want to put them in any more danger by being around me like you said.”

“I was mad that night because you got hurt. You got hurt trying to save me. I would rather a monster went after me than you any day. It would kill me if I lost you. These last four months have been worse than my four months in hell, but at least I knew you were alive.”

Stepping closer to him you asked, “Dean, why do you care so much about what happens to me, Sam I get, he’s your brother. Me, I’m just your friend.”

“You used to be me best friend, then I did something stupid. I fell in love with you. I couldn’t do that to you though. You deserve better, and if I ever did anything about those feelings you would have a big target on yourself. Not to mention I couldn’t lose my best friend, when she didn’t feel the same. So I did what I needed to keep you safe, I tried to push you away. This last time I pushed you too far, I never wanted to push you out of the bunker. I hated hurting you, but I just couldn’t let you get close. Then I lost you anyway.” Tears were falling from both of your faces now.

You walked closer to Dean, putting your hand up to stop him from talking, “Can we go back to the part where you said you fell in love with me? Do you still feel that way?”

Instead of answering you Dean moved your hand and crashed his lips into yours. Neither of you pulling away until you needed air. “Does that answer your question? Does that mean I’m not the only one who feels this way ”

“Yes to both. But it also doesn’t mean you're off the hook Winchester. When I leave here, I’ll do what you asked, and not go off on my own. I will go back to Jody’s.” Dean’s face fell at that. “I won’t shut you out this time. I think we have some talking to do before I come back to the bunker.”

“You’ll come back?”

“Eventually, I think so. I’m not going to promise you something I don’t know if I can keep.”

“Why don’t you just come back now?”

“I know you, you know you, I come back now and we don’t settle anything. We get back to the bunker and we end up falling in bed. You hurt me Dean, and I’m not over that yet. I need some time to process all this, we need to work through this before jumping in.”

The two of you headed back inside to join the others. Sam came up when Dean went back to check the grill he abandoned.

“Does this mean you are coming home with us?” Sam asked with a smile.

“No.”

“Wait, what? I saw you two outside. It looked like everything was good between you?”

“Okay, one, you really need to work on this peeping Tom thing you have going on. Second time today you’ve watched me through a window buddy. Two, things are better. I’m not ready to come back yet. He hurt me, and I need to work over everything he said to me today. When we leave I’m going to go stay with Jody.”

“Please don’t shut us out this time.”

“I won’t, your brother and I have a few things to talk about.”

After the party you headed for Jody’s. Claire rode with you, while Alex was with Jody.

“You know he is crazy about you right? He was driving everyone crazy when you went off on your own.”

“What?” You had been lost in your thoughts and missed what Claire had said.

“Dean, he went nuts when you left. I know you two talked, Sam said you were making out. So why are you coming home with us?”

“I need a little more time Claire.” The rest of the ride was silent except for the radio.

Gif by soluscheese

You had spent almost two weeks at Jody’s. Dean had called you every day to talk, the two of you talking about the day, hunts the guys took, one you went on with Claire, much to Dean’s dismay. You had talked a few times about the fact Dean really didn’t want you hunting, but that was only because he was worried you would get hurt. Almost every call ended with him apologizing for what he did, and telling you he hoped you would come back soon. A few days after you arrived a bouquet of flowers was delivered, white and pink roses with carnations of the same color. All your favorites. The card said, ‘I can’t wait for you to come back home. Love Dean.’

Jody had sat you down to talk about the whole situation with you. You admitted you had forgiven Dean for what he said, and you understood why. You were afraid to go back to the bunker, you just didn’t know why. Talking over everything with Jody helped you see, you were scared to go back knowing how Dean felt about you. Up until this fight Dean had been the one constant in your life, well except for his time in hell, and purgatory. You knew how you felt about him, but worried that his feelings weren’t going to last. Then what were you going to do? Have to leave the bunker and lose your best friends again? You really did love Dean, and you owed it to him and you to give this a chance.

You had been putting your things back in your duffle bag at the end of the second week, it was time to go home. Your phone rang, but this time it wasn’t Dean on the other end, it was Sam.

“Y/N, Dean’s in the hospital and I can’t reach Cas.” was all you heard before dropping to the floor, Jody took the phone and Sam filled her in.

Dean had been hurt on their last case. They thought there were four demons, they had those taken care of and cleaned up. They were back at the motel when one smoked into the little cleaning lady and grabbed Dean. Sam had gone out to grab dinner and came back to a trashed hotel room and Dean gone. Luckily his phone was in his pocket and he could trace it. By the time he found him the Demon had beat him up pretty bad. He had multiple cuts, and bruises, they were worried about internal injuries and were running tests now.

The hunt was in Nebraska, just a few hours south of where you were, you grabbed the bag you had been packing and ran out to your car. Jody wasn’t even out of the house before you pulled out of the driveway.

You made the drive much quicker than usual, a call to Sam gave you the floor and the room number Dean had just been transferred to. When you arrived up there Sam met you in the hall Dean was on the ICU floor so only family was allowed in the room. Sam had told the nurses you were his wife so you would be able to enter.

Walking up to his bedside you could feel the tears sliding down your face again. Talking to Jody yesterday you were so worried about what would happen if a relationship didn’t work and you lost your best friend. You should have been thinking more of what you guys do, and how that could take Dean from you any day. You had been in love with Dean for years and wanted this more than anything, why had you fought it. Now you might never get that chance. Sitting down in the chair beside the bed you grabbed one of Dean’s hands with one of yours and the other ran through his hair. Leaning up slightly you placed a kiss on his cheek, careful to avoid the tube running out of his mouth.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t come home with you when we left Donna’s. I was fighting us, and I never should have done that. You are it for me Dean Winchester, I just need you to wake up now. Please Baby, can you wake up for me?”

The only response you got was the steady beat of his heart on the hospital machines. Sam came in and sat in the chair on the other side of the bed, both of you waiting for any sign of Dean waking up. Sam told you Dean had gone into surgery before you got here. They had found some internal bleeding which needed to be repaired, he had lost a fair amount of blood and also needed a blood transfusion, it didn’t appear any organs were damaged.

A neurologist came to talk to you a few hours later. Both the MRI and CT scan of Dean’s head showed slight swelling around the brain. This could just be bruising and go down before Dean wakes up, from a concussion, or something more. They would be keeping an eye on him, but until he woke up there was no telling how bad it was.

Both you and Sam spent the night in the hospital, with no changes appearing in Dean. A nurse and doctor came to check him over and asked the two of you to step out for a few minutes. Sam convinced you to go to the cafeteria to at least get a coffee or something. Walking back to Dean’s room with Sam’s coffee and your hot chocolate, you saw the doctor leaving the room. When he looked up and saw you he came over to talk to both.

“His vitals are getting stronger, still weak but better than yesterday. We don’t want to take him for another CT scan right now, so I can’t tell you if the swelling has gone down.

“When will he wake up?” you asked.

“That’s hard to say. If he keeps fighting it could be a few days, although if he takes a turn there is a chance he may not wake up.”

Sam had to grab you with his free hand to keep you from falling when your knees buckled. Dean, might not wake up. That couldn’t happen, he had to come back to you. The two of you headed back into the room to sit and wait. Going back to your chair you grabbed Dean’s hand in yours once again, and pleading with him to please wake up. It had fallen to Sam to keep Jody, Donna, Charlie, and Garth appraised of Dean’s condition. They would have been there in a heartbeat to see him, but wouldn’t have been allowed into his room. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone. Although you kept praying to Cas, who had yet to appear.

The fourth day sitting in the hospital you caught Sam watching you.

“Yes?”

“I’m just wondering what you are going to do when Dean wakes up?”

“What do you mean?’

“Are you going to run again? I don’t know if Dean could handle that.”

“No, I was actually packing my bag to come back when you called me. He’s it for me Sam, I can’t lose him.” you tell him with tears in your eyes once again.

Two days later your head was laying on the bed, with your hand holding Dean’s when you felt movement. You jerked up so fast Sam jumped at your reaction. Looking down at Dean’s hand his fingers were starting to move.

“Dean? Baby can you hear me?”

“Dean, it's Sam and Y/N, can you hear us?” Sam ran to the hall to get a nurse or doctor.

“Please, please wake up Dean. Come back to me.”

Sam came back in the room followed by a doctor and nurses, who pushed you back from Dean. He was slowly becoming more coherent, when he started fighting the tube in his throat they pulled it out. Sam and you were in the corner watching, hoping this was it, Dean was finally coming back to you. They checked his vitals, everything looked good. Someone went to get him ice chips another got him readjusted. Since he was awake they were moving him to a room soon, and the neurologist would be in to check on him. Dean had yet to say anything but you all figured it was because his throat was so dry from days without drinking. You took the ice chips from the nurse so you could give them to Dean.

Watching the last of the medical staff clear out you gave Dean an ice chip and turned to him with a smile.

“I am so so happy to see you’re awake and okay! I was so afraid I had lost you,” you tell him as you lean down to kiss him.

“I’m glad you're excited to see me Darlin. Um.. Who are you exactly?”

Part 2

Tags- @talesmaniac89 @malfoysqueen14 @whatareyousearchingfordean @emoryhemsworth @superfanficnatural @flamencodiva @winchest09 @deanwanddamons @katehuntington @anathewierdo

#supernatural #dean x reader #Dean Winchester

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bnhablessings · 5 years

Note

Would you possibly do another Aizawa requests ☺️ R is a student of class 1-A and when they asking parents about letting students come to the dorms he and all might go to her house and they realise she actually lives alone with her dog and younger brother or sister and Aizawa decides to take them both under his wing and one day R just suddenly turns around and calls him bad accidentally

This sounded too cute to pass up! Apologies for me taking forever to get to it! :’) When it comes to Dadzawa content I like to go all out (that means it’s probably messy) so hopefully, you enjoy it, anon!

I named the reader’s brother Haru because I adore that name

(Dadzawa) Aizawa Shouta x Female!Student!Reader

Warnings: Just a smidge of angst (Fluff that will giveyour heart a dose of love)

Words: 1,914

“Aizawa-Sensei and All Might-Sensei? What are you doinghere?” You question softly a bit too surprised by their current appearance atyour house.

All Might is the one to speak, “We have been speaking to allof our students’ families about an important issue. May we come in to speakwith your guardian?”

Oh no. This is not happening to you. You are desperate intrying to come up with an excuse that you don’t notice their concerned gazesfrom your unusual quietness. You are after all one of their most enthusiasticstudents so it worries them that you are quite the opposite right now than youwould be in school.

“(Name)! I finished! Can you look it over?” A childish boy’svoice calls for you snapping you from your thoughts.

The nerves are eating at you as you ask in vain, “Is there achance that you can call or stop by some other time?”

“Negative. This needs to be taken care of,” Aizawa statescalmly.

With a defeated sigh you let your teachers enter your house.They take their shoes off the door per your request and they follow you to yourkitchen where your little brother, of the age five, waits. They’re surprised tosee that it’s just him and an old Shiba Inu, whose tag reads Fluffy, in thehouse so far.

They are quiet as they observe you look over your brother’shomework. You give your brother the biggest smile and say, “Nice job! You didit perfectly! As promised you can go ahead and watch TV. But first, would youlike to meet All Might and Eraserhead?”

At the question, the poor boy freezes before he shakes withexcitement for finally noticing the older males in the room. You laugh lightlywith joy from seeing your brother happy.

“Aizawa, All Might, this is my little brother Haru. He’s abig fan of both of you. He’s kind of like Midoriya in that sense,” You murmur.

You hold in your giggles as Haru bows repeatedly beforemaking a dash straight to the living room.

“Seems like a sweet kid,” All Might says with a smile.

You just nod absentmindedly as you place Haru’s homework inhis backpack on the counter. The two teachers stare at you surprised at yourcalm demeanor. You seem so much more mature compared to when you are in class.

However, you also look… fatigued. It just raises furtherquestions between the two.

“(Last Name), where are your parents?” Aizawa says thequestion you’ve been dreading.

You let out a heavy sigh as you pick up a few postcards thatlay on the counter and simply hand them to the man. Its multiple postcards froma few states in America. Aizawa and All Might look through them and notice thesimple note on the back that just says ‘Love you’.

“How long have they been gone?” Aizawa questions as AllMight looks saddened.

You shrug your shoulders as you reply, “A few months now.We’re fine if that’s what you’re wondering. They send us money and they stillpay the bills and have our neighbors check-in on us.”

This isn’t fine and you know it. Aizawa lets out a heavysigh as he shares a look with his colleague. They understand why you seem somature now. You have to be for Haru.

“I can give you their number but they may not pick up. Theneighbor would probably be able to get a hold of them,” You murmur.

All Might is completely baffled as he asks, “You don’t getin touch with them, like at all?”

“Nope, they’re out seeing the world instead of being with us.All we’ve gotten are postcards and words from them through the neighbor. I needto get dinner started soon… Would you guys like to stay for dinner?” You ask asyou easily evade their stares by grabbing ingredients from the kitchen.

They do, but not before they speak to each other and callNezu outside your house.

The dinner felt light-hearted with a hint of seriousness inthe air as All Might carries the conversation mostly with Haru. Aizawa staresholes into you while you try to eat in peace. When all is done and the twoadults had finished their food they merely observed you and a now sleepy Haru.

Haru who’s been sweet for you since your parents left, doesthe thing toddlers do when they want to be held. He lifts up his arms outtowards you and you easily lift him up and hold him, his face resting on yourshoulder. He’s out within the minute.

“Sorry about him. He usually passes out after dinner likethis,” You explain feeling a bit embarrassed that your teachers have seen somuch of your vulnerability.

All Might hesitates to ask, “Does… does he usually fallasleep like that?”

“Sort of? He’s been needing to be held by me or cuddled byFluffy before he sleeps. He’s afraid I’m going to leave him as they left us,”The disgust for your parents is evident in your voice.

Aizawa and Yagi are just surprised by it. However, they canunderstand why you feel that way. You’re practically raising your littlebrother, despite being a kid yourself, for them. It disgusts them as well ashow easy your parents could leave you guys like that. This is too much forsomeone as young as yourself.

“Young (Last Name), since you are a unique circumstance,Principal Nezu has requested that you-“

Aizawa cuts him off, “Stay with me. Both of you can’t beliving by yourself.”

All Might gives his colleague yet another look but this onehas a hint of confusion on his face.

~*~

“Is… Is this really okay?” You ask softly as you hold yourdog Fluffy in one arm and a bag of essentials in the other.

Aizawa doesn’t say anything as he sets down your littlebrother on the couch gently. He takes off the little kid backpack and sets thaton the floor. When he doesn’t say anything you frown.

All Might who helped escort you guys to Eraserhead’s home afterthe conversation is the one to speak. “It’s perfectly fine, Young (Last Name)!Thanks to Aizawa’s thinking this turned out to be much better than the originalplan.”

Ah, yes. The original plan thanks to Nezu being informed ofyour situation was that you and your brother would’ve been separated. You would’vegone to the U.A Dorms as originally planned but your brother would’ve beenplaced into a distant relative’s home or with a foster family do to yourparents’ negligence.

As of now, they are deemed unfit parents and you’ll bestaying with Aizawa. Feeling tired from the whole prospect of moving, you laybeside your brother, while Fluffy claims a corner of the room for himself. Theteachers notice how tired you are and bid you goodnight before stepping into anotherroom to speak.

In truth, Aizawa couldn’t even think of splitting the two ofyou up as a possibility. He saw the way you looked at your brother as if youwere his parent. The pride in your eyes as he did his homework correctly. Yourbrother looked at you as if you were his protector, it was obvious he adoredyou. It would’ve shattered the both of you if you were to be forced to split upand that’s not what he was going to let happen.

All Might knew this the moment Nezu said to bring it up(Nezu totally knew Aizawa is a softie and that this would happen). All Mightfelt the same way but since Aizawa is your homeroom teacher the feelings aredeeper with him. The grump of a teacher needed to take responsibility for you.

“Aizawa… what about your cats?” Yagi whispers to the grumpyman.

Aizawa shrugs and states in monotone, “They haven’t made abig deal so they’re fine. Besides, my cats can totally take down that dog ifthey need to.”

Yagi freaking has a heart attack and a nose bleed at thesewords. “THAT DOG IS OLD. Your cats don’t need to be murdering Young (Last Name)’sdog!” Yagi whisper yells.

~*~

You sigh as you text the parental figure that has beenwatching over you these past couple of weeks. He’ll be home a bit late but thatworks perfectly for you.

Surprisingly, it’s been a smooth transition and Haru loveshim. You live in the dorms with the rest but you get to go home with him on theweekends while Haru and Fluffy (who actually gets along great with the cats muchto Aizawa’s surprise) live with him indefinitely. With the unique circumstance,the other teachers help Aizawa take care of Haru while you are living in thedorms.

Overall, you are grateful for him, especially when youoverheard from All Might that he took both of you in when he didn’t have to.

It’s been feeling like home. To thank the man for all he hasdone, you and Haru decided to go all out on this weekend night and make hisfavorite dishes. Towards the end of your cooking adventure, you check on Haruwho had opted to make cat-shaped cookies.

“Looking good, little man,” You state admiring his work.

Haru looks up with happiness before a frown lands on hisface. You immediately ask him what’s wrong.

“Is Aizawa our new daddy?” His voice is meek upon askingthis and seeing your confused expression the poor boy continues, “It’s justthat… I don’t want to see our old mommy and daddy. They don’t love us. I wantShouta as my new daddy!”

WHAT IS THIS FEELING IN YOUR CHEST? Your little brother literallyjust killed your soul with this cute yet sad declaration. Even so, you completelyagreed with him.

“Hey, watch the food brat.”

A harsh sizzling sound, the scent of smoke, and Aizawa’ssudden appearance override your senses and you quickly apologize, “Sorry, Dad!”

Your face feels like it is on fire with embarrassment as yourealize you just called him dad. You hurry to set the food aside to cool downand clear out the slight burning smell before you turn to the male who appearsto be in shock.

“Aizawa?” You call out.

His normal grim expression is back on his face as he says, “Goahead and set the table.”

You go to turn to do what he said but caught the male unableto hold back a smile anymore. All tension in your body leaves as you realize he’shappy that you accidentally called him dad. When the table is set and you areall sitting, Haru curiously looks at the laid-back tired adult.

Aizawa gives the boy a glance and finally indulges him, “What?”

“Does that mean we can call you dad?” Haru for the love oflife doesn’t have a filter but you are grateful for it.

Aizawa is elated but it doesn’t show on his face, “Go forit.”

“If you’re our new daddy who can we call mommy?” Haruquestions.

Without missing a beat you answer, “All Might or PresentMic.”

Aizawa glares at you but says nothing else. The feeling oflove and happiness fills the air as it had been doing since both of you movedin with him. You can bet he’s doing everything he can do to adopt you.

#boko no hero academia #dadzawa #aizawa shouta #dadzawa x reader #bnha #mha #fluff #x reader #fanfiction #anime #manga #reader insert #request #oneshot #my hero academia

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shadow-assassin-blix · 4 years

Text

A Picture is a Poem Without Words

Chapter 5

A/N: “Talk” “Spanish” ‘Thoughts’ Alludes to some sexy times. Lots of talks about feelings on multiple parties. Javier makes a phone appearance. Felix and Amado appear for a smidge. Blix begins to show some of her dark side.

Not gonna lie. Timeline of the show is about to get wonky, I will admit. I will give fair warning when that happens. Just rearranging certain events as it were.

A few days later, and Blix was bored out of her mind. Her stitches itched. She wanted the cast off. She was tired of avoiding arguments with Diego. She honestly was two seconds away from setting the damn house on fire.

She had gone through her files 5 times, and talked with her team, who had finished up the crime scene at La Tertulia. Nothing had been stolen, just made to appear that way. It was all a trap to get them there and try to take them out. According to intel, König had figured out that the FBI was on his tail, but he didn’t know much more beyond that.

That had been two days ago. She was currently pacing the floors. Chepe often made jokes, about her being like a carnival game. One sicario was brave enough to try and throw a tennis ball at her. She had been irritated enough to throw a knife near his face, in retaliation. No one dared to do anything similar since.

She was waiting for Pacho to return from his meeting with Escobar. Something about there being an issue in LA. She usually tuned out when he heard him talk business to his associates.

While she was waiting, a doctor had apparently been called to come in and look over wounds. Her stitches were removed, as was her cast. She was told to gently exercise with it, so as to not cause the muscles to stiffen and cause her more pain.

Once he left, she had nothing to do again, but pass time. She didn’t want to read, she wasn’t hungry. If she looked at her files again, she was going to throw them in the trash.

She eventually decided to go for a swim to pass the time. She ignored some of the whispers she heard from his men as she walked by. She had many scars throughout her body; she was well aware of what they looked like.

She swam for about an hour, during which Pacho had eventually returned, irritated. His irritation did fade a bit once he looked out from the balcony attached to his office and saw Blix swimming.

Chepe stood next to him and commented, “She is quite beautiful, no?”

Pacho smirked and nodded, “She is.”

Blix finally got tired of swimming and stepped out. As she was drying off, Diego walked over to her.

“Hm. I can see the appeal. Somewhat. You are almost beautiful. The scars though, tsk,” He began, saying it lowly to her. “You know Pacho is just using you right? You know that you mean nothing to him? That once you are no longer needed, he will cut you out? Don’t get use to his attention. It won’t last.”

Blix doesn’t respond, like she usually did. She just wrapped the towel around herself and went inside.

She took a quick shower and got dressed. While everyone was distracted with Pacho’s return she moved her files and notes and took them to the garage.

She looked around for the most inconspicuous car he owned. Which wound up being a dark green corvette, a convertible. She walked over to the wall that held the keys and found the one labeled Corvette. She grabbed them and unlocked the driver side door, reaching over and setting her files down onto the passenger seat.

When she straightened up, she jumped as she sees Chepe standing next to her.

“Trying to make the great escape eh?” Chepe teased, leaning against the car.

“I just need some air. Away from here. I am tired of being stuck here,” She quietly admitted, with a sigh. “Does Pacho know I’m out here?”

“No. I saw you sneak this way by chance. If you want to go out, I can take you, if you would like?” He offered politely.

She looked down, annoyed, and honestly exasperated. She had a quick thought; she wasn’t sure if it would work.

“Okay. Do you mind running in to get me a drink then? I don’t wanna risk running into Diego again,” She quietly pleaded. “A soda please?”

“Sure. I can do that, Little Lady,” Chepe answered, calling her the nickname that some of the guys had begun to call her.

He walked away and once he gotten a little bit away from her, she jumped in the car and locked the door. She quickly started it as Chepe, made his way back over to try and get her out. He was too slow, and she drove off thankful that each car had its own garage opener.

She drove past the guards and made her way out onto the lonely road that lead back to Cali.

As Chepe stood there, chuckling, Pacho wandered in. “What’s going on?”

“Little bird flew the nest. She apparently needed to get away for a while,” Chepe replied before turning around to go back into the house. “Let her have a day to herself Pacho. Also. Might want to talk Diego. I believe he may have said something to her again.”

“She took my favorite. A little concern about that,” He mumbled to himself, a hand rubbing over his chin nervously.

Chepe laughed at that, as they both made their way back to Pacho’s office. An hour later they finished business, and Pacho requested for Diego to come see him.

A moment later Diego appeared before him.

“My love. Why must you constantly be at odds with her?” Pacho asked sitting at his desk.

“Why did you even bring her here? Why are you even bothering with her? She said it herself, the deal the brothers want, won’t matter until Escobar is out of the picture. Why keep her around?” Diego rapid fired his questions in response.

“I like her. Simple as that. I brought her here to take care of her while she healed. I keep her around, because I enjoy talking to her. I know my answers may upset you. But you also seem to think that I’m replacing you with her, and that’s not true,” He answered truthfully, looking him in the eyes.

“I still love you Diego. She’s not taking me away from you. In fact, I’m quite certain I’ve spent most of this week with you. In your arms. Not hers. So why do you continue to belittle her?” He continued as he stood before Diego and pulled him close.

Diego looked away, and felt a small amount of guilt as he reflected over the comments he said to her.

“I will… try to tolerate her more. I make no promises. But I will stop trying to goad her into an argument,” Diego conceded.

“Thank you. That’s all I want,” Pacho said pressing a kiss to Diego’s lips. “Now, I have to go find her, and make sure she’s okay. You owe her an apology by the way.”

Diego rolled his eyes slightly but nodded his head.

Back with Blix, she had finally arrived home, parking the corvette gently in front of her home. She grabbed her stuff out of the seat, and went inside, sighing in relief at the sight of her home.

She set her files down in her office alongside her sat phone. She checked on the food in her fridge, some of which had spoiled so she tossed it out. She decided then that she wanted to go to the store and get her own groceries.

She did just that, the store she liked was only two blocks down, so she walked to it. She grabbed a couple of different meats to make meals with, and then she got a lot of junk food. Once she was done getting what she needed between food and personal hygiene items, she checked out. Her trip took about 40 mins, but it made her feel a lot better already.

While she enjoyed being at Pacho’s home, she was often left to her own devices, and her movements were restricted around the house, depending on where he had his meetings.

She quite frankly grew bored, and while she tried to strike up conversation with the men around the house, they often avoided her. Whether it was because she was a federal agent or because Pacho ordered them to not speak with her, she wasn’t sure. Either way, she simply couldn’t do much.

She returned to her house and put away everything. She called up Jacque to see if she could come into work that night. He very enthusiastically told her yes. So, she got ready, dressing up in a black halter top mini dress, with a simple v-neck. It’s straps and bodice were lace-y, the skirt ending just above mid-thigh, and flowy. She slipped on her black strappy high heels.

She did some simple makeup, lip-gloss, and a bit of eyeshadow. She thought about walking to work, but then she stared at the lovely little corvette before her. She grabbed her purse, making sure her house keys were in it, along with some cash, her IDs and such before she snatched the car keys. ‘It’s such a pretty car. I mean it should be admired, should it not?’

She drove to work, smiling. When she got to work, she greeted Jacque and the waitresses. The official story for them was that she was in a car crash. So, they all came up to check on her, and made sure she was okay.

She told them she was fine, and ready to get back to normal. The night went on like it normally did, locals in the beginning, before switching to the younger crowd.

Her head at one point did begin to pound, and she had to take a seat while she worked, because she felt a bit lightheaded.

Jacque eventually sent off on her break, and as she made her way over to the familiar taco truck, she felt a bit exhausted. She didn’t have too much time to think on it as a small force ran into her, arms wrapping around her tightly.

“Miss Bee! You’re okay. We were so worried! I -We missed you!” Came the small voice of Paulo.

She hugged him back once she regained her bearings. “Hi honey. Yes. I’m okay. I missed you too.”

She stepped forward as Paulo talked her ear off, catching her up on the local and familial drama.

“Slow down for a moment honey. I gotta order,” Blix said, trying to get him to pause for a moment. “Hello Henri. How are you?”

“I’m good little fox. I’m happy to see you out and about. Are you sure you’re okay to be working already?” Henri asked concern, looking her over.

“I’m fine. I may see about heading out early. My head is aching. But uh.. I would like the steak burrito, please?” She assured before placing her order.

“Oh? Who upset you honey?” He asked as he began to make it.

“Why do you ask that? It’s just a burrito,” Blix protested.

“You don’t order the burrito, unless you are feeling upset. It’s a part of your quirks. Steak tacos on normal days, chicken quesadillas when you have strange cravings, cause you tend to dunk them in whatever sauce is available, and burritos when you’re really upset by something,” He listed out as he cooked.

She stared at him in surprise, blinking slowly. “I… I don’t know what to say that.”

“As I said, it’s just something I noticed over the past year. By the way this is on the house,” he noted as he began assembling the burrito.

A moment later, he hands her the burrito wrapped in some aluminum foil, and a couple of napkins. He then puts out a sign saying that he’s gone on break and comes outside.

He beckons her over to one of the picnic tables, and tells Paulo to go inside, that he can catch up later.

Blix made her way over to him, hopping up to sit on the tabletop, as she took a bite of her burrito.

“Alright, lil fox, what’s going on?” Henri began, gently nudging her with his shoulder.

“I seem to have the worst taste in men,” She began softly.

“This guy I’m… dating? Sleeping with? I don’t really know what exactly it is, he… he has… a partner, who… doesn’t care for me too much, is the nice way to put it,” She slowly explained trying to take care in her words.

“I knew he had this partner from the beginning, or rather I suspected it. That’s not my problem. The problem is… I have spent the past week, being goaded and taunted by this other person, because of my looks,” She stated with a sigh, staring down at her food dejectedly. “Often times, I can ignore what people say about me. But this past week, has really done a number on me.”

“Is the man you are seeing aware of the comments, and insults?” Henri asked after a moment.

“Yes. He knows…about some of it. I gave up after the third day of it, and his partner giving no shits about what he says,” She confessed. “The thing is, I spent years… years… trying to get over my scars. There was a large portion of my life where I would spend an hour every morning, putting on makeup to cover them up.”

“What made you stop doing that?” He asked curiously.

“My friend in Bogota. He… he was the first guy who looked at me, sans makeup, and didn’t flinch. He told me that I looked like a goddess. Athena in human form. It was the sincerest compliment I had ever gotten in years. I stopped caring after that,” She answered with a fond smile, thinking of Javier.

“Sounds like a good man. Why aren’t you with him then?” Henri wondered with a chuckle.

Blix laughed in response, before replying, “Because the man is terrified of commitment.”

“Ahh. Okay then,” He responded, nodding his head. “It sounds to me however, that you need to talk to your other suitor. If this relationship is to continue, all of you have to be on the same page. Being outed by his other significant other, is not fair to you.”

“I… I don’t know anymore, Henri. Feels like I shouldn’t even bother with it anymore. Not gonna lie, I kind of ran off on him today. Just… couldn’t deal with it anymore. Maybe I am just meant to be alone,” She shrugged, before taking a large bite to distract herself.

“Now, that sounds like giving up. I didn’t take you for a quitter,” He lightly admonished. “Take some time to yourself. The next time you see him, if your heart starts to race, or you feel butterflies in your stomach, then that’s worth pursuing. It means his mere presence makes you happy.”

She smiled softly at that and nodded her head. She continued eating, the two of them talking for a while longer, before the both of them had to return to work.

She worked for another hour before leaving early. Her head was pounding, and she felt exhausted. She sat in the driver’s side of the car, resting her eyes for a moment. The lightheadedness had return as well. She heard a tap on her door, and she rolled the window down and sees Diego standing there.

“Move over to the next seat. I’ll take you home. Pacho is waiting for you there,” Diego softly ordered.

She stared at him in suspicion first, before slowly crawling over the center console, and sitting in the passenger seat. He gets in and started the car, after making sure she was secured in her seat.

“I’m… sorry.” Diego suddenly stated after a minute.

“Wow. Did that taste like vinegar coming out of your mouth?” She asked bitterly.

“Yes. It did actually,” He answered shortly.

“Thanks. I guess. You know… that I’m not trying to take him from you, right? If… when… he decides he doesn’t want me anymore, I’ll go. I’m not… here to ruin what the 2 of you have,” She quietly commented, staring out the window.

“I know…,” He responded. “Though… I have a feeling that you are going to be around for long time. The last girl he was with, he never brought her to the house. Never got her flowers. He likes you, that much I can tell. Which was why… I got territorial. Which was unwarranted. I can’t say that we will be best friends, but I will try to be less of an ass.”

“Okay. That works. Was Pacho pissed that I took his car?” She asked wanting to change the subject.

“Pissed? Concerned is more like it. This is his favorite. His baby,” Diego snorted, as they pulled up to her house.

“Oops.” She said quietly, a small snicker slipping out.

As the car came to a stop, she stepped out to see Pacho, waiting for her on the steps. He looked up at her, as she stepped forward. As his eyes locked onto hers, she felt her heart race a bit. ‘Damnit, Henri.’

She gently stepped passed him to unlock her door and walked inside without saying anything to him.

She made her way to her kitchen to get a glass of water, and some pain medicine. She swallowed the meds quickly before chugging down some water. When she finished, she noticed Pacho standing before her.

“Diego told me…everything. We spoke earlier. Hopefully, now we can all live somewhat peacefully with one another,” Pacho began.

As much as she wanted to believe that, her doubts and insecurities threatened to raise their ugly heads. She leaned against the kitchen counter behind her, gazing at the kitchen tile. Pacho moved to stand before her, and gently cupped her face with his hands, silently asking her to look up.

She does so slowly, hesitantly, biting her lip nervously.

“What’s the matter, my sweet?” He asked concerned.

“Diego… he made some points though. There is no need for you to dote over me when I’ve already agreed to do what you want. Your deal is as good as done, once the brothers have typed it up. So, why bother with me?” She questioned, her tone serious.

“I dote over you because I wish to. How many times do I have to tell you, that I find you absolutely gorgeous? Extremely breathtaking? A goddess? I’m with you, because I like you,” He praised. “Maybe I am being somewhat selfish in that I also want to learn about your every secret. Your beautiful, and charming. Smart. Witty. You have a dark side to you, that intrigues me greatly. Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

He doesn’t allow her to answer as he pressed his lips to her. Her hands slowly wrapped around his back, as one of his slid down her side.

“This dress is sexy, but... I feel like it’ll look better on the floor,” He whispered against her lips.

His hand on her side, grabbed a handful of her dress, bunching it up as he began to pull at it.

They continued to kiss until they were gasping for breath and had to pull away.

“I want you to come with me to meet with the Gallardo. We’ll be going to Panama. It’ll just be me and a few others,” Pacho requested in a whisper.

“Why? What do you need me for?” She quietly asked, curious.

“I want you by my side. Simple as that,” Pacho answered. “What do you say?”

She started to answer when her phone rang. “Hold that thought.” She said pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Hello?” She spoke into the kitchen phone.

“Hey. It’s me,” Came Javier’s voice.

“Hi. What’s up? It’s like 1am,” She said with concern.

“We got Gacha. Earlier today. We… we killed him,” He announced with a sigh.

“What? Oh my god! That’s… that’s amazing!” She congratulated. “But uh… shouldn’t you be out celebrating? Drinking? Sex with a random woman?”

As she spoke, Pacho came up behind her, and pressed kisses to the back and side of her neck.

“Thought about it… but uh… didn’t quite feel like it, I guess. I mean. I have been drinking, just not at a bar,” He responded, somewhat hesitantly.

“Javi. What’s wrong? This is a win. One step closer to Escobar, yeah?” She contended, somewhat confused by his tone.

“I uhh. Do you… do you ever think about us?” Javi inquired.

She sighed at that question, while also attempting to get Pacho to stop with his ministrations that were slowly getting bolder. His hand had slipped under her skirt and were softly massaging her inner thigh.

“How much have you had to drink Javi?” She questioned.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Javier asked back, offended.

“You don’t talk about feelings. Unless you’ve had a few. Remember, that’s how you broke up with me? Got shitfaced and told me that you saw our relationship heading nowhere,” She replied somewhat bitterly.

“…. What if I said that I was lying? That I do see something with you?” Javi inquired after a moment.

“I’d say that I would rather have this conversation when you’re sober and in front of me. Listen. Go sleep honey. I’m proud of you. Call me when you’re sober,” She answered before slowly hanging up.

She gently leaned back into Pacho’s chest with a heavy sigh. “Is Diego still outside?”

“No. Sent him home with Navegante,” Pacho murmured as he slowly began to unzip the back of her dress.

She pulled away then and began walking toward the stairs. “Good. Come upstairs then.”

He followed behind her and as they stepped into her room, she kicked off her shoes. She stepped into her bathroom for a moment to wash off her makeup before anything else.

When she stepped back out into her room, Pacho was sitting on her bed, sans shoes and socks. She slowly slipped the dress off from around her shoulders, before doing a little wiggle as she pulled it down her hips.

She stood in front of him in just her underwear and straddled his hips a moment later. She stared at the shirt he wore, a shirt that was 3 different colors. Not exactly the best looking in her opinion.

“How much… do you like this shirt?” She coyly asked, pulling at the collar with an index finger.

“It’s… alright. Why?” He inquired squinting his eyes at her in suspicion.

She simply reached over to her bedside table, and after a momentary struggle of trying to find it blindly, she found her pocketknife. She flipped it opened and gently held it at the collar of his shirt. She bit her bottom lip softly as she held his shirt firmly in her left hand. She dragged the knife down, the blade slowly ripping the fabric.

Once there was a decent tear in the shirt, she set the knife back down on the table. She then began to pull at the tear, firmly, shredding the shirt down the middle.

The entire time that was going on, Pacho watched her curiously, and was only slightly concerned when she pulled out the knife.

“So, I take it, you didn’t like the shirt?” Pacho joked once she had finished shredding it and was shoving it off his shoulders.

“It’s… it was ugly honey. I’m sorry. But… you can pull off many looks, but this… This is a no,” She slowly responded pressing a small kiss along his collar.

He laughed loudly at her response and just nodded his head. “Understandable. Just know that I can and will get you back for it. Though I will agree. It wasn’t my best.”

She giggled and sighed before sadly stating, “I’m… super tired… I would love to continue this, but I may pass out on you.”

“It’s okay. We can do some catching up in Panama if you wish?” Pacho offered kissing her slowly.

“Yeah. I like the sound of that,” She agreed before getting up to go grab an old band t-shirt to put on and take off her bra.

She could hear Pacho undressing further as well, and once she was in the shirt and her underwear, she turned to see him in just his boxers. They slipped under the covers, and Pacho quietly told her about his day, laying on his side, his head propped up on his arm. When he mentioned the horse ranch she froze.

“Wait. You… you have a ranch… with… with horses???? And you… never told me?” She asked with wide eyes staring at him.

“Yes. Would you like me to take you there sometime this week?” Pacho asked surprised.

“Uh. Yes! I love horses! Grandparents had a horse ranch, and it was the best part of my summers as a kid,” She explained excitedly. “If I had known about the ranch, I wouldn’t have gotten bored. I’d been harassin’ you to take me every day.”

He smiled sadly at her, and he apologized softly, “I’m sorry you got bored. Not going to lie, I’m used to women who love sitting around and doing nothing.”

His hand softly stroked her side as he spoke. She smiled in response, reaching up to run her hand along his jaw.

“It’s not a big deal honey. I’ve been told I’m like a husky, need to be walked 15 times a day or I’ll lose my mind,” She lightly joked.

“Then I’ll make sure you have plenty to do,” Pacho assured as he pulled her closer to him.

She snuggled into his chest, and they slowly fell asleep together.

The next morning, was a blur as they got dressed and ate a quick breakfast. She definitely packed up all her snacks, because she refused to leave her junk food behind.

As they stepped outside, her neighbor, Mrs. Garcia, said hello. She waved at her distractedly as Pacho opened the car door for her.

As they drove out to his house, he mentioned that she could have a car to claim as her own to use. “Just not this one. This one is… special.”

They spent the day at his house and planned a time to go see the horse ranch the next day. It was going to be in the afternoon, once Gilberto and Miguel left after their meeting.

The day passed normally, there were no arguments between her and Diego. They even had pleasant conservations throughout the day.

The next morning was a bit chilly, and she threw on a large fleece cardigan over her shorts and tank. As she walked around, she ran into Navegante and politely asked if the brothers had arrived yet.

Navegante informed her, “Yes, they’ve been here for about an hour now.”

She nodded her head in understanding before making her way into the kitchen. She made herself a cup of tea with honey, before grabbing 3 more cups and filling them with black coffee. She threw sugar packets into one pocket of her cardigan and different flavors of creamer packs into the other.

She made her way upstairs, gradually, and into Pacho’s office. The three were standing around the table pouring over a map. She cleared her throat to alert their attention to her.

“Sorry to interrupt. Thought some fresh coffee might help?” She offered holding them up.

Pacho smiled somewhat tightly but said thank you. She sets the cups down, pulling out the packets of sugar and creamer as her hands became free.

She glanced down at the map, which was of Mexico, and found herself looking at it confused. Most of Mexico was marked off into sectors; the various different territories. Everywhere except one place.

“Guadalajara, yes?” She confirmed without much thought. “Why is the Baja not marked off?”

Miguel cleared his throat before answering, “Guerra. Opium dealer. He owns the Baja. Doesn’t like cocaine.”

“But Gallardo’s probably made him offer right?” She guessed looking at all 3 of them.

“Yes. He probably has why?” Pacho questioned.

“You said it yourself. Gallardo’s arrogant. Probably thinks that if he controls all of Mexico, he has you in a checkmate,” Blix began to explain. “Make Guerra a better offer. Or as Marlon Brando would say, ‘Make him an offer he can’t refuse.’ It’s what I would do.”

Gilberto smirked at her before grabbing his phone and handing it and a number on a post-it note.

“Then do it.” His tone was challenging, like he was daring her.

She took both from him slowly, took a deep breath, and called the number. ‘I’m being tested. Well. Let’s see how I do then.”

The phone rang for a moment before someone finally answered.

“Hello, may I speak to Mr. Guerra please?” She politely requested.

“Mr. Guerra isn’t available righ-“ the man began before Blix cut him off.

“Listen. As someone who is clearly an overpaid secretary, I’m calling bullshit. Please tell Guerra that a representative of the Cali Cartel wishes to speak to him. Now,” She informed him firmly.

A few minutes passed before another voice, older and gravellier, answered, “Guerra speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hello. My name is Blix. My… associates have heard rumors that Gallardo offered to bring you into the cocaine business, yes?” She began and before letting him answer continued. “We wish to make you a better offer?”

“Oh? Is that so? What could you possibly offer me?” Guerra inquired sounding somewhat agitated.

“I’m willing to bet that Gallardo only offered about 10% of the profits. We’d like to give you something a little more than chump change,” She offered as she leaned against the table, taking a sip of her tea.

“50%” Guerra stated.

“Guerra. I may have been born at night, but it certainly wasn’t last night. 50% is too high and you know it. Don’t insult my intelligence,” She lightly warned. “20%”

“Hm. 40%” He threw back.

“30%.” She responded hoping to trick him into going lower

“25%.” He threw out before he tried to take it back, stumbling over his words. “N-Wa-“

“Deal.” She confirmed before he could say anything. “One of my associates will be in contact with you to iron out the details, within the next day or so.”

“You are a good businesswoman, I must say. It’s not often I fumble over a deal,” Guerra complimented.

“For some reason, I just don’t believe that. You knew I wasn’t going to go much higher than 20, you just wanted to see if you could get me to agree to something higher,” She responded ignoring the compliment. “I would also like to inform you Mr. Guerra, that you should forget about your travel plans to Panama. Wouldn’t want to cause any… conflicts of interest.”

“Ah. An intelligent woman indeed. Good, you’ll need that while working with the cartel,” He stated. “Gallardo isnt going to be pleased by this.”

“Gallardo isn’t my concern. Do know this Mr. Guerra. Gallardo will probably at some point retaliate. He’s a prideful man. It’s in his nature. But what he does to you, will be nothing in comparison to what we will do if you try to betray us,” She cautioned.

“Are you… are you threatening me?” He accused.

“No. Warning. Because... Gallardo will take revenge, sure. But Cali? No. Revenge is petty. Beneath us,” She stated darkly. “Accidents however… Accidents can and do happen every day. Like… fires, gas leaks, that sort of thing can happen anywhere, like at your restaurant, your home/ranch, that shitty lil town you’ve proclaimed yourself as king, or your acres of opium. Would be such a shame… if anything happened to your livelihood.”

It was quiet, but she could hear him breathing, “Understood.”

“Good! As I said, earlier, someone will be in touch to finetune the details. Have a lovely day, Mr. Guerra,” She ended the call with a perky tone.

She handed the phone back to Gilberto and said, “That wasn’t too hard. Enjoy your coffees.”

She walked away with her tea, toward her room, to get dressed for the afternoon.

Pacho watched her leave with an impressed smirk plastered on his face, his eyes dark as he watched her leave.

“Did that… really just happen?” Miguel asked in disbelief.

“It did indeed. I told you. She has a darkness to her, and I love seeing it,” Pacho grinned, lighting a cigarette. “It was also her way of speeding up the meeting so we can go to the ranch.”

The brothers laughed and soon enough their meeting had ended. As soon as it was over, he walked down to Blix’s room. He leaned against the door-jam as he watched her get ready. She was slipping on a pair of cowboy boots when she noticed him standing there.

“Oh? Done so soon?” She greeted happily, walking over to him.

As she stepped up to him, he pulled her close and kissing her passionately.

“Wow. What uh… what was that for? Not that I’m complaining,” She wondered breathlessly, when they pulled apart a moment later.

“You are very sexy. Even moreso when threatening men. Couldn’t help myself,” He whispered to her.

She shook her head at him before excitedly asking, “So the ranch? Horses?”

He nodded, laughing at her as she bounced up and down in front of him, like a child.

They made their way down to his car, and off they went to the ranch. The ranch was only 20 minutes from his home and as they pulled up her excitement ramped up.

She was out the door before he could even turn the car off. She rushed up to the stalls and began excitedly talking to both the horses and the stable hands that were working.

Pacho slowly walked up behind her and listened to her coo to the horses as she ran her hands down their faces.

They spent several hours there, half of it spent with her in awe of each horse, and the other half was her riding around the stables on some of the horses.

Lunch was served late there, and as they ate, he commented, “If I had known the ranch would make you so happy, I would’ve brought you sooner. Don’t think I’ve seen you smile so much.”

“I smile? What do you mean?” She asked confused as she looked at him taking a sip of the daiquiri that he insisted on making her.

“I mean, that since the second we pulled up, you haven’t stopped smiling. You smiled even when Rowdy tried to eat your shirt. It’s quite beautiful to see you so happy,” He further explained with a fond smile.

She looked down, a light blush gracing her cheeks.

“You mentioned last night that your grandparents had a ranch? What happened there?” Pacho asked curiously.

“The short story? My grandparents died, and my mother didn’t want to deal with it,” She explained quietly as looked away.

“And the long story?” Pacho lightly probed, his hand reaching out to hold hers.

“My sisters and I… we loved it. It was the best 2 to 3 weeks of our summer. Spending our time at the ranch. Training horses. My grandfather had show and race horses. We would trade off each day on who we would work with on what.” She began thinking about to it fondly.

“When they died, my mother wanted nothing to do with it. Sold off the horses. Fired the workers. Cut down the apple orchard we had opened for the public to go apple picking. The barns have been hit hard with storms, and my mother didn’t care to fix them. If she could she would’ve sold the land as well,” She explained rather sadly.

“Why didn’t she?” Pacho inquired.

“Grandparents left it in their will that the ranch was to go to us. That when we were old enough, we could decide who would run it. That the land could only be sold by us if we all agreed to. So, my mother found a loophole around it. Can’t have much of a ranch if there’s nothing there,” She concluded with a half shrug.

“I’m sorry your mother stole that from you and your siblings,” Pacho consoled as he lifted her hand to press a kiss to it.

She didn’t respond beyond shrugging and letting out a small sigh.

“So. Tonight we leave for Panama yeah?” Blix changed the subject.

He nodded his head, and reported, “Yes. We leave on a late flight, check into our hotel, and then meet with Gallardo tomorrow at noon. In fact, we should probably head back, and pack up.”

They did just that, got home, packed, and she met a few other members, like Salcedo, and a couple of guards going with them.

The flight to Panama was swift, and soon they were in their hotel room, resting. Morning came around, and as they made their way to the hotel where Gallardo was at, Pacho made a quick explanation.

“When we get there, if you could please wait downstairs for 20 minutes. I doubt the meeting shall take very long, but I would prefer it if you did not get involved any more than you have. I’ll have a guard with you, just go shopping or something. I’ll come retrieve you,” He informed her as they pulled up to the hotel.

She raised an eyebrow and decided she wasn’t going to argue about this, right now. She got out and with her newly grown shadow in the form of a 30 something year old man named Thierry; she wandered the shops.

She came across a jewelry store and waltzed in, looking at everything bored. Something eventually caught her eye as she made her way over to the men’s jewelry.

As she looked at it, a small smile grew on her face. A store assistant came over and asked if he could help her.

“Yes. Can I see that necklace please?” She politely asked pointing at it.

He reached in and grabbed the necklace, displaying it in the palm of his hand.

She inspected it closely and hesitantly said, “Umm. That necklace has a small scratch on it… would there happen to be anything similar to it?”

A manager happened to be walking by and overheard the conversation. He inspected the necklace and spotted the imperfection before telling the employee to put it with the discount items somewhat annoyed.

“Come this way ma’am. I’m sure this one over here will please you greatly,” He schmoozed in a hoity manner, giving her a look.

He brought her over to another display case and pulled out a similar necklace. She nodded her head, stating ”Yeah. This one is much better. How much?”

“$647.32. In American dollars.” He answered in a mockingly sad tone.

She reached into her bag and pulled out the envelope that her tips from the brothers in it. She counted out 650 and told him to keep the change. He tightly smiled and boxed it up before handing it to her.

She rolled her eyes at his attitude and made her way back out to her guard.

“Just because your item got fucked up, doesn’t mean you need to get all snooty about it,” She muttered under her breath annoyed.

She continued exploring, getting slowly more and more annoyed with her babysitter, since he kept trying to steer her over to the elevators. She eventually made her way through a large crowd and lost him after a moment.

She noticed as she walked further on that there was an art auction going on in one of the conference rooms that was open to the public.

As she strolled that way, she ran into 2 men, one of whom she had seen pictures of.

“Mr. Gallardo. That was quick, I hope Pacho wasn’t too cruel with you,” She greeted as she blinked at him.

“No. Not at all miss?” He prompted.

“Blix. I hear you enjoy art; would you like to join me in viewing the auction?” She politely asked before turning to the other man with him. “Hello. You can join us as well Mr.?”

“Amado. I’ll just.. wait here. Thanks.” He declined with a nod of his head.

Felix and she made their way into the auction and began looking over the art. Blix stared at some items with intensity, and Felix who did look at the art, was more intrigued by the woman next to him.

“So, you are with the Cali? A bit odd for a federal agent, no?” Felix questioned, looking at her curiously.

“Hm. It’s… an interesting arrangement let’s just go with that. Besides. They are not my concern. Not my division as it were,” She replied meeting his eyes.

“Yes. I heard you were in art crimes,” Felix acknowledged as they made their way through a section of impressionist art.

“Yes. Art is quite fascinating. Horace once said that a picture was a poem without words,” Blix noted. “That picture in my opinion can mean anything. There’s always something that speaks to you. Whether it’s religious, political, or personal. Art is a reflection of you.”

They stopped near a canvas that had a weeping willow tree, the vines covered in ice.

“Take this for example. To you it’s simply a tree. To me… it reminds me of my childhood home. We had willows everywhere,” She said as an example. “Art, no matter the format, is an extension of you. Extension of your personality.”

He smiled at her and nodded, and before he could respond, they heard a throat clear behind them. As they turned to it, Pacho stood there, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Uh-oh. It appears I’m in trouble. It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Gallardo,” She whispered conspiratorially holding her hand out to shake.

He took it and instead of shaking it, kissed the back of it. “The pleasure was mine. I do hope Mr. Herrera brings you out to our meetings more often.”

He walked away and met up with Amado, before disappearing.

Blix quietly followed Pacho who she could tell was fuming. His shoulders were tensed, and he was breathing roughly.

They made their way back to their hotel in silence. They even left that night instead of staying like they originally planned.

As they stepped over the threshold of his home, she finally broke the tension, “Are you going to stay mad at me forever? Or are you going to finally tell me what’s wrong?”

“I had the guard with you for a reason. He was there to protect you. Instead of doing what I asked you not only ignored it, but put yourself onto Gallardo’s radar, for no reason” He fumed, glaring at her.

“I am a federal agent. I can take care of myself. I do not need a guard or protection. I can protect myself quite well. Been doing so for a very long time,” She reminded him.

“As for Gallardo, I ran into him by accident. I didn’t seek him out. I figured he knew who I was, which he did, and I was just being polite. That’s it,” She reassured.

He took a deep breath, looking away. “I don’t like you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. If he had decided to retaliate against me, using you…”

She stepped up to him, placing her hands on his chest, and soothed, “But he didn’t. I’m still here. Annoyed that we didn’t stay in Panama, especially after I got you something, but still here.”

He placed his hands on her hips, and said, “Oh? You did? What?”

“Not giving it to you now. You were a brat. I’ll give it to ya when you’ve earned it,” She teased as she walked away.

Pacho raised an eyebrow at that comment and chased after her, grabbing her around the waist and throwing her over his shoulder.

“A brat eh? Takes one to know I think,” Pacho mocked, smacking her on the ass.

“Really? Did you seriously just?” She asked in disbelief, before smacking his butt in return. “Turnabout is fair play.”

He carried her upstairs, both of them laughing at each other, before he decided to make it up to her all night long.

A few days had passed, and she still had yet to give Pacho the necklace she got him. He was convinced it was a watch. It wasn’t until a package arrived for her at Pacho’s house that she decided to give him the gift. Especially when she realized that the gift was from Gallardo. It was the painting of the willow tree that they had looked at together.

The painting came with a note, “It was a pleasure speaking you, my lady. I hope we can talk more soon.”

Pacho was annoyed by its presence. So, she pulled out the velvet box that held his necklace in it, hoping it would soothe things over.

He was sitting in at his desk in his office when she walked in. She moved over to him and gently sat in his lap, presenting the box to him. He opened it slowly.

“A crocodile?” Pacho questioned confused.

“I don’t know jackshit about watches, so don’t ever expect one from me. But I do know that in most ancient cultures, the crocodile is one of the few animals that was revered. They’ve been worshipped longer than God. Deified for well over a millennium,” She began to explain as she took it out of the box.

“They represent duality. Tough enough to withstand bullets, but do not do well with criticism. They are precise with every move they make and see opportunities where others cannot. They are cunning, strong, brave, and dependable. That’s what I see when I look at you,” She described as she hooked it around his neck.

“So, my primordial being, do not bother yourself with the opinions of sheep or the thoughts of lesser men. I certainly don’t,” She requested with a kiss. “I want you to wear it for good luck. Protection.”

Her phone at that point began to ring, and she stared at the number slightly confused, for she did not recognize it. She answered it after a moment. “Hello?”

“Hello Miss Lage. This is Felix Gallardo,” Came the response.

“Oh. Mr. Gallardo, how are you?” She replied turning to Pacho with a wide eye look. His returning look was with narrowed eyes, and a tense jaw.

“I simply wanted to make sure that painting arrived safely,” He informed softly.

“Yes. Yes, it did. I was hoping to be able to thank you in person, but this works too. It’s quite lovely,” She thanked, wondering where this was heading.

“Good. I must say, I was a bit hesitant to get it for you, since you looked at it so sadly, but then I saw a glimmer of something, that… I could relate to,” Felix admitted. “I saw a longing. For home. I often get that way myself thinking about Sinaloa.”

“Home? Not necessarily. Simpler times, more like. Haven’t missed home in quite some time,” She lightly argued.

“Hm. It is rather interesting, though. The things we would do for those we consider home. Safe. Like threatening an opium dealer to cut a deal for your lover. Guerra said he spoke to a charming young lady. Would hate for anything to befall said lady, for sticking her nose into business she does not belong in,” He vaguely threatened.

“Well. Mr. Gallardo. I would simply say that I can take care of myself. I’ve dealt with plenty of villains, Felix, and I hate to break it to you, but I’ve faced scarier. Have a lovely day,” She hung up the phone after that.

“Villains? You mean… your mother?” Pacho tried to clarify.

“Let’s just say, ruining a ranch, was nowhere the worst thing she ever did to me,” She whispered vaguely gesturing at her face.

“I see. Well then. I guess it’s a good thing you are mine. Anyone tries to harm you, they’d be dead,” He promised after a moment of silence, fully understanding what she was implying.

She smiled sweetly at him, and they spent the rest of the day talking about his work. He was giving her a glimpse into his world and how it worked. That to her was a level of trust she wasn’t expecting, but she appreciated it, nonetheless.

Neither of them were aware of the chaos that was about to unfold, due to the events going on in Medellin.

#pacho herrera #pacho herrera x oc #narcos #slight narcos mexico #slight javier x oc

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