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jsprnt · 7 months ago

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Americano PT. 9 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: phew! this took me five million years and a bag of candy to write. remember when I told you to remember the house layout? 😉 Enjoy!

small mention: I absolutely love knowing you all are curious about the next chapter of this series. I appreciate and love all comments I get, and try to keep all my promises I make. but, trust I’m human too and need some away from writing. Though, when rude and harassing words are used in my inbox- the joy of writing this series gets absolutely sucked away. (If I’ve answered your message, this isn’t about your comment 🫶) so, please keep your rude words to yourself or I’ll turn off anonymous inbox messages and block you the next time :)

W/C: 4.016

part eight

"I should've just taken a break to go on vacation."

Lina sighs, poking her salad with her fork, and guiding the mixture of greens and dressing up to her mouth.

"Didn't you take a trip to Paris last international break?"

Luis says, raising a brow at her words. He turns his head towards me, nudging me under the table.

"Can you believe her?" He asks, an exasperated chuckle leaving his lips. It causes me to jolt out of my half-asleep state, my eyes widening in surprise.

"What? Who?" I ask looking around and bring a hand up to rub the sleep out of my eyes.

I had rushed out of the house this morning, which meant everyone got the chance to admire my bare skin today.

Well, my stress-induced breakouts were on full display, but having some pimples wasn’t the end of the damn world anyway.

"Are you okay?" Lina joins in, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, just dozed off- been sleeping horribly." I reply, eyeing my lunch with a grimace.

"Are those exams still keeping you up?"

"More like waking me up.. Do you know how many nightmares of failing an exam a person can take?” I say, my words coming out harsher and louder than I intended. My eye twitches in irritation, and I give them a crazy look.

"Woah, you have an attitude today.." Luis mutters, shifting away from me.

"Don’t piss her off.." I hear Lina say, nudging Luis.

"Never mind, I'm going back to work." I state, quickly putting my tray of food away and walking out of the cafeteria.

I mutter curses under my breath, trying to look as normal as possible to my coworkers when I pass them in the hallways.

Exam season was practically sucking the life out of me, and the added pressure of the upcoming Champions League home game against Napoli was multiplying the stress.

Thankfully, it was international break, which meant that my normal workload was cut in half. Some players not playing for in the national team had requested leave for vacation, so the training center was pretty quiet and empty today.

I only knew of injured players being here for their scheduled recovery appointments.

I finally get back in my office, sighing in exhaustion when I get to my desk. I plop down, rubbing my face to wake myself up further, before starting to work on some more content.

"Why are you grinning like a creep?"

I turn to Luis, chuckling at his choice of words, and let go of the computer mouse.

"I just got a notification that said I passed my written exam." I beam, giving him a cocky look.

"Really?"

"Yeah, ninety-four percent..” I say, turning my head to look at the editing program. The training video we had just shot halfway edited already.

"You've been snapping at us for no reason, but I guess it was worth it- good job.." He says, shooting me a smile, and leaning in to give me a side hug.

"Yeah, sorry about that.." I apologize, fixing my wrinkled shirt. I move my hand towards the mouse again, cutting off a piece of blurry footage that we couldn’t use.

"It's fine, I guess it's payback for making you do random tasks back when you were a newbie.."

"You know, I haven't forgotten how you made me carry that heavy ass bag every morning..”

"I'm sorry, alright. You should've told me earlier that Ancelotti is basically your uncle."

I grumble at his words, jabbing his ribcage with my elbow, sending him a warning look.

"Stop talking and help me out with this.." I mutter, passing him the mouse.

He winces a little, rubbing his stomach, before snatching the mouse off of me with an attitude.

"Didn't know you were allowed to use your privilege to inflict such violence."

I roll my eyes, focused on the moving images on the computer screen. Starting to unconsciously pick at a fresh scab on my hand. Only noticing the damage I’ve done when I look down to see blood trickling down the back of my hand.

"Shit, made myself bleed.." I say, making Luis glance away from the dual monitors.

"Go to the physiotherapy room. They have a shit ton of bandages and bandaids.” He suggests, his hand going up to fix the curls falling in front of his eyes.

I nod quickly, getting up from my seat and walking out of the small, soundproof meeting room. I close the glass door behind me, hurrying over to the physiotherapy room.

I pass the glass panels facing the multiple pitches outside, the sun had been shining brightly this afternoon. Even though the sun had been setting quite early due to daylight saving time.

I knock twice when I arrive, only opening the door when I hear a loud 'come in' in response.

I clear my throat, realizing how silly it is to get a bandaid for a wound like this, but still walk in.

I'm greeted by the sight of first-team physiotherapist Iván, he smiles when he notices me, waving for me to come inside.

He was one of the nicest people working with me at Real Madrid. It would be especially fun when he would bring in his little two-year-old son with him. I couldn’t count on one hand how many times I had carried the cute boy around the training center in my free time.

"Oh, y/n. What brings you here?" He questions, shoving the white privacy curtain out of the way, only to reveal a shirtless Jude lying on the treatment table, his eyes opening to peer over at me.

The personalized shoulder brace he'd been wearing for the past couple matches, was taken off for obvious reasons, and placed on the other side of the bed.

I look away a moment later, feeling my chest tighten, internally wincing at the thought of Jude having a dislocated shoulder and still playing football. Despite all of the aggressive and offensive play we had gotten used to this season, he was handling it well- but I wouldn’t ever utter it out loud.

Because- who wants to inflate that ego even more? Or was that even possible?

"Hi, Iván.. Just wondering if you got a bandaid for me?" I avert my gaze to the physio, and raise my brows. I hold my hand up to show the wound, and smile when he nods in response.

"Yeah, just a second.." He shoots Jude a quick wink, washing his hands before coming over. He begins to rummage through the cabinet, flipping through a pack of bandaids before handing me one closest to my skin color.

"Here you go.. Do you need anything else?" He asks, eyeing the blood on my hand.

"Nope, only this. Thank you.." I smile, quickly wiping down the blood from my hand and gently placing the bandaid on my wound.

I throw the bloody wipes and wrappers in the dedicated trash can, turning around again when I’m done.

I make accidental and involuntary eye contact with Jude instead of Iván, who's already across the room busy with some paperwork. Probably documenting the progress of Jude’s injury.

My eyes automatically dart down to his shoulder, and unbelievably, my eyes slip to his chest, then to his-

I stiffen when I regain consciousness of what I’m doing, and look away with haste. I fight the urge to smack myself in the face, instead biting the flesh of my cheek when I notice him smirk at me.

"What are you looking at?" He questions, voice low and his cocky tone too obvious to ignore.

My eyes widen slightly when he speaks, and I take a step forward as if to say I’m not intimidated.

"Just- looking at your shoulder.." I say, cringing at the way the words leave my mouth.

"So, you’re worried about me now?"

I give him a look of disgust, a chuckle of disbelief leaving my mouth.

"You wish, Bellingham. I heard Ancelotti is confident in putting you in the starting lineup on Wednesday. You better put your best foot forward, and if we don’t end up winning..." I trail off, threatening him slightly with my tone. I then turn around and leave the room.

I couldn’t lie, being rude to him after he'd dislocated his shoulder and still played made me feel a little guilty.

Though, he had a huge gift of being the ultimate douchebag, even when he’d been having his 'decent' moments lately.

“He’s only turned nineteen two- no three months ago, and he’s already scoring in the Champions League..” Luis gawks, grabbing the equipment bag out of my hand.

“I know, it’s so fun to see young players flourish..” I mutter, mentally recalling the interview I just did with Nico Paz. Since it was his first goal for Real Madrid, we had just done an interview in celebration.

“He is a year younger than you.. Is he really that young to you?” Luis teases, pushing me away when I pretend to kick him.

“What? Are you trying to undermine my accomplishments?” I question, trying to kick him again.

“Hey! See, this is how immature you are.. Step back, dude get off…” He says, and I scuffle with him for a moment, gasping when he tries to put me in a headlock.

“Okay, you always do this- stop everyone is looking..” I mutter, squeezing his arm.

“How fuckin’ childish are you?” I hear a familiar voice say. I snap my head up, Luis’ arm loosening as he immediately lets me go.

“As much as I want to be...” I state, my hand traveling up to fix my hair and clothes.

I hear Jude scoff, he gives me a nasty look before taking a step forward, but I notice him freeze in my peripheral vision when he hears someone calling out to me.

“y/n?!” The person shouts, and I look around for a moment before my eyes land on…

The guys from Naples?

What’s his name again?

“Chris?..” I say, my voice low and as enthusiastic as I can manage to pretend.

Fuck, I never even answered his DM’s..

Well, should I really give a guy who looks like trouble a chance?

My common sense says: NO.

I watch him bring an arm around my back, his hand resting on my shoulder blade when he hugs me tightly. Like we’ve been friends for freaking years…

“How have you been? Thought I’d see you here..” He beams, his hand going up to fix the fluffy mop of blonde hair on his head. Aussie accent undeniably mesmerizing like last time.

He is so pretty, but the kind of pretty that told me he was a full on man-wh*re..

“Hi? Good, what are you doing here?” I ask, trying to stop the grimace forming on my face. I lean in, taking a closer look at the badge hanging from his neck.

Surprisingly enough, it says ‘VIP’- I look up at him with a questioning look, waiting for him to explain.

“Oh- this.. someone I know gifted me this pass..”

Yeah, very believable.

He smiles nonchalantly, the skin of his cheeks denting as his dimples show.

I nod as if I understand, glancing at Luis, so he can get me out of this conversation.

“You’re the drunk guy from that night!” Chris suddenly exclaims, pointing at Luis.

Could this get even more awkward.

I tune out the stupid conversation they have, shuffling backwards only to bump into Jude.

Thankfully, not against his injured shoulder.

“Oh, sorry..” I whisper, not even registering his response before he’s rudely interrupted.

“Man- no way you’re the Jude Bellingham..”

I close my eyes in embarrassment, turning around to face Jude instead of both Luis and Chris.

I raise my brows at Jude, giving him a look only readable as ‘send this man away’..

He immediately plasters an all too good, fake smile on his face. Stepping behind me to greet Chris, and begins talking to him about the match.

I can only hear a jumble of both Brum and Aussie accents, it making me want to burst into a fit of laughter. Though, I manage to keep it in, looking at Luis to see if he’s still present in the conversation.

He isn’t, as expected. No surprise, he’s fidgeting with his damn camera again.

I stand there like a statue for the next two minutes, looking back and forth between the two accented men.

It’s a comical sight, especially when I can’t even understand some words.

I sigh in relief when Jude pats Chris’ shoulder, careful with his injury when he goes in for a handshake.

I watch Jude leave swiftly, his facial expression falters immediately, and his hand goes up to rip the shoulder brace off his body, harsher than I’ve ever seen him do before.

"My brain is going to explode, fucks sake.."

I mumble, stretching my arms and legs. I get up from the dinner table in order to walk around the backyard for a moment. Trying to get some fresh air, even though it's past midnight already.

I loved studying at the dinning table way more than upstairs in my room. It felt less lonely- especially since my dad had been gone for a couple weeks now. His work and the case had taken an interesting turn, which meant that his stay had to be prolonged.

I didn't mind, in fact, I loved living alone. Except for when I heard random noises at night. It could've been a bird flying against the window, and I’d still be paranoid.

Since it was our day off, after winning 4-2 against Napoli yesterday- I thought I'd go ahead and continue cramming for my last exam I had in a couple days.

I yawn and stretch my limbs, looking up at the clear sky and stars. It had gotten so much colder since December was almost here.

My pajama shorts are not providing warmth, but I can’t be bothered to go up and change when I’m going back inside in a minute anyway.

I can hear my back cracking when I turn to stretch, making me chuckle. I was only twenty, but those hard ass chairs and sitting in them for long periods of time, made me feel like I was double my age sometimes.

I'm brought out of my thoughts when I hear my phone ring loudly from the dinning table. I jog back inside quickly, throwing my slippers off my feet and snatch my phone. Confusion settling on my face when I read the caller ID.

I immediately pick up, pressing the phone against my ear. Worrying about something horrible happening in the middle of the night.

"Dad? It's late, something wrong?" I say in one breath, left hand clutching the backrest of my chair.

"y/n, nothings wrong. I just need you to listen carefully..”

"Okay." I spit out, just wanting him to get to the point, my brain making up all types of things.

"It's concerning one of my clients. Something unexpected just happened, and he's going to have to stay over at ours for a while."

I pause at his words, frowning in confusion, even though he can’t see my face.

"What? So, you're calling me- because I need to let an unfamiliar guy into our house- so he can sleep here? Is it a criminal?”

I gasp, hand gripping my phone tighter.

“A murderer?! Dad! How can you-”

"-y/n.." He cuts me off, voice stern, but I’m able to hear the grogginess of his tone. He'd probably been sleeping before he was awakened.

"It's no stranger- it's Jude, okay? He's not safe in his own home- relating the case I took on. I offered for him to stay over out of concern for his safety. So, he's going to have to stay with- you for a while."

I stay quiet, taking in all of the information he's giving me. I can already feel a migraine creeping up on me, letting go of my chair to massage my temple with one hand.

"I have to get the guest room- ready?" I say, processing everything and trying to understand what I’m supposed to do.

"Yes, I know you two are- friendly. Please be understanding and responsible. I'll call you in the morning, just get him settled and go to bed. You got that, honey?"

"Yeah, I got it. Uh- I'll get the room ready.." I say, already walking up the stairs and into the guest bedroom.

"Good, again- I'll call you in the morning- good night, sweetie.."

I quickly hang up after saying goodbye, running around, and making the bedroom look presentable. I change the bedsheets and wipe the dust off the vanity with a swift motion. It takes me about ten minutes and a sweaty forehead, before the doorbell rings repeatedly.

I run down the stairs, almost tripping due to my haste.

I take a deep breath when I reach the front door, trying to collect my thoughts and feelings before swinging the door open.

Jude's house was unsafe to stay in, so he's staying here- right..

The front door squeaks when I open it. An exhausted-looking Jude entering my sight, his black suitcase is on the floor, to his right- looking like it’s about to burst at its seams.

Cold air greets my face and naked legs almost instantly, making me curse internally for not changing clothes earlier.

I was too stubborn for my own good..

"Hi- umh, come in?" I say, my voice hoarse as if I hadn't spoken out loud in weeks.

He nods awkwardly, mumbling something incoherent as he begins rolling his suitcase inside.

I motion for him to take his shoes off, which he promptly does without hesitation. I turn away, grabbing some house slippers for him to wear out of the shoe rack.

I throw them next to his feet, watching his eyes flicker up and down as he steps back for a moment.

"You alright?" I ask, worried about the lack of words he's using.

It was unlike him, whether we’re arguing about some stupid shit or I’m filming an interview- he always had something to say.

"Yeah, I'm fine.." He mutters, looking up and finally making eye contact with me.

"The bedroom is upstairs.." I trail off, reaching over to grab his suitcase, but he snatches the heavy luggage up with one hand, immediately making his way up the stairs.

I watch the muscles in his arm flex as I walk behind him. I stop dead in my tracks when I realize what I��m doing and practically start running up the stairs to catch up to him.

I walk ahead of him when we reach the top of the stairs, opening the guest bedroom door for him.

"This is your room, bathroom is there, and the laundry room is over there." I point, turning around to face him.

"Thanks.." His Brum accent is thick, and he looks at me like a lost man in crisis.

I clear my throat, unable to pick between being nice and acting like how we normally interacted.

"Are- do you want to go shower?" I mutter, raising my brows.

I only realize how wrong my sentence sounds the second it leaves my mouth. To cover my embarrassment, I clear my throat again, putting my hands behind my back.

"Yeah- I should.." He responds, and I step aside to let him in the bedroom.

"I'll be downstairs.."

I inform, running down the stairs the second he shuts the door behind him.

I rub my eyes aggressively when I walk into the living room area. Sitting on the couch, I wonder if this is some delusional fever dream.

Maybe it’s just a different genre of dreams, next to those nightmares I had about failing exams.

I mean- who can make this up?

I get up to my feet again, walk up to the fridge, and begin filling up a huge glass with water. I bring the cup up to my lips, and slowly sip on the cool liquid, hoping it will help me feel grounded again.

I exhale deeply when I'm halfway through the cup. Going for my last gulp of water again, I fill my mouth with the rest of the water. My cheeks almost exploding from the amount of water in my mouth.

Suddenly, I'm absolutely- fucking-scared shitless as I'm poked in between my shoulder blades. I turn around in a shift motion, accidentally spraying out the water in my mouth- onto a shirtless Jude's chest.

My eyes almost bug out of my head in shock. My jaw slacks open when I observe the aftermath.

He can only look at me with a blank face. I can’t detect any emotion in his face, but he’s probably equally as mortified as me.

"Shit- sorry.." I blurt, turning around, and grabbing a kitchen towel. I scramble for a second, and start to vigorously..wipe.. his..chest..

I only realize I'm rubbing on his chest like I’m giving him a damn massage- mid-wipe and freeze.

My body goes rigid and my hands are resting on his now dry, naked chest.

I look up at him, only seeing part of his face with help from the dim lights in the kitchen. My breathing slows down, and he looks down at me in return.

I can feel my heart pounding in my ribcage, and I'm sure anyone within meters of me could hear.

His skin is soft and warm underneath my fingertips-

"I- was going to ask how the shower works.." Jude whispers, his warm breath hitting my face. I can make out his brown eyes peering into mine, a series of unspoken and caged words behind them.

His words make me stop breathing for a moment. I remove my hands off of him at lightning speed, the kitchen towel falling to the floor mindlessly and I step back immediately.

"Oh- yeah, sure. Follow me.." I scramble a couple words together, my brain working overtime. I walk up the stairs again. Leading him into the bathroom, noticing he had left the lights on, his discarded shirt on the bathroom counter.

"Here- left is hot, right is cold. This is the best temperature.." I instruct, pointing when necessary and don’t dare to look up at him as he stands behind me.

"This button is for the radio and this one for the ventilation.." I say, pressing some buttons to show him how they work.

"Okay.." He breaths out, his warm breaths hitting the back of my neck. I can practically feel his eyes drilling into the back of my head.

I finally turn to look at him, dragging my gaze up to make awkward eye contact with him.

"Anything else?" I ask, voice low and I begin fidgeting with the hem of my shorts.

"Not really..” He replies, sentence dragged out by his accent.

"Umh- okay.. laundry hamper is there. I'll be in my room.." I trail off, pointing my thumb behind me, and walk out of the bathroom without saying anything else.

I quickly clean up the mess I - no, he caused in the kitchen. I wipe everything down properly and grab my laptop and stationary off the dining table.

I carefully lock the front door and windows on the first floor, setting up the alarm and going back upstairs.

I can hear some noise coming from the bathroom. I begin averting my gaze, just in case Jude walks out of the bathroom half-naked again.

I finally get into my bedroom, jumping into my bed. I try to distract myself with my phone until he's done with showering. So I can finally wash my face and brush my teeth after a long day of studying.

Only, this time- my phone doesn’t seem to be all too interesting. Not even those brainrotting and attention grabbing TikTok’s.

Nothing, and I mean nothing- could distract me from anything that had happened within the past thirty minutes..

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #bellingham x reader #real madrid fc #jude bellingham fanfic #football imagines #football fanfic #footballer x reader #football #football imagine #real madrid

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majestichyuk · 1 year ago

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Sweet spot

Pairing :- Masseur!Jaemin x fem!reader

Summary :- After much convincing, maybe not at your own will, you finally agreed to get that much-needed massage, Thank you Seungkwan.

Genre :- Smut (because I’m nice like that), fluff if you squint (you'll definitely see it), coworker Seungkwan, strangers to potential lovers.

Wc :- 3.7K

WARNING :- Reader has a nipple piercing (cause she, YOU are freaky like that.), teasing, dirty talk, Buff Jaemin, yes that is a warning, Jaemin loves the booty (you shouldn’t be surprised) so ass is being ATE just a lil lick is all, Jaemin is a pussy fiend. Female receiving, oral, cum eating, sexual tension. (I think that’s all ), sry for mistakes if there is any.

NOTES :- This here lady sluts and gentle whores is my first half smut that was in the making. I spent an hour and a half working on it, so I’ll check this off as the 4th story I’ve successfully completed 🎉 kudos to me. I hope you enjoy it and if you do comment and if you don't and think I could improve something still comment or message me anonymously, cause critique can lead to my improvement but being bitchy will get you nowhere, ANYWAYS, LIKE, REBLOG & FOLLOW.

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“Why don’t you just come with me to the spa on Saturday, huh y/n?” Your best friend/coworker, begged you as he grabbed your arm, tugging you lightly.

“Do I look like I have time to go to a spa?” You licked the tip of your finger as you skimmed through the documents that your lazy boss rudely dropped on your desk, without uttering as much as a please.

“And plus, Saturdays are clean-up days, my cousin is a lazy fuck and I have to suffer from it,” You itch the crown of your head, slightly groaning realizing you might have to do an all-nighter once again on a Friday evening with the load of work in front of you.

“Why don’t I take some of these with me,” Seungkwan lightly squeezed your hands as he took up about 60% of your work from your desk.

“That way you can have a good night's sleep, while I plan our day out tomorrow,” Seungkwan squealed as he imagined finally getting to pamper you but you had to rain on his parade.

“No” You took the papers from him and placed them in your folder.

“No?” He looked at you in disbelief.

“I didn’t stutter, I won’t burden my work on you, it’s fine,” You reassured him.

“But you didn’t put your work on me, I volunteered,” He snatched your folder and took out the papers he had before, getting up from his seat and placing them in his briefcase.

“And I don’t want to hear any more nonsense about you doing all the work at the house when your cousin is a grown MAN,” Seungkwan picked up his suit jacket and swiftly put it on.

“Ah Kwannie, It’s really not a big deal– okay…” You stopped uttering a word when he hit you with that stare, a stare only a child of a strict and overprotective mother would understand, it was bone-chilling really.

“Good, I’ll text you the details so make sure you fix yourself up nice and be punctual,” Seungkwan placed his polyester scarf around his neck and ray-ban his glasses on (yes he wears ray-bans shut up).

“Go home, finish off the work, do whatever you do at night, that ritual of yours whatever, and sleep well, sleep early,” Seungkwan pulled you up from your seat and pulled you into a hug.

“You sure you don’t like girls, I’m just saying if you’d allow me to slap on a strap I’d make a heck of a guy,” Seungkwan pushed you off and picked up his phone, giving you a side glance.

“Girl if you don’t go home, goodbye.” He laughed richly as he walked out, leaving the office. You followed the same routine minutes later and headed home.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Seungkwan ended up sending you the website for the Spa he had been rambling about for weeks on end as soon as you stepped into the door of your house. You decided to check it out after completing your office work and getting ready for bed.

After an hour and a half, you flopped into your bed, finally getting to relax. You checked the time, normally you’d finish work around late 11 but now it was around 8:35p.m, thanks to Seungkwan that was your earliest, EVER. You did a light prayer for him because he’s an angel.

You covered yourself with your sheet and opened your and Seungkwan's messages where he sent the link, you exchanged words with him before you clicked the link.

He told you he already made the reservation on your behalf and because he was close friends with a guy named Wonwoo there, he was able to get a discount. He told you your first appointment would be a massage done by some woman named Na Jaemin, it should be an easy name to remember because before you started working in your current job you were a daycare teacher and there was the cute little girl whose name was IM Jaemin, oh was she a menace.

The website just showed all the available procedures, the cost, and the exaggerated descriptions of the long-lasting after-effects of the excellent experience. You turned your phone off, turned it over, and went to sleep.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Loud, obnoxious snores were coming from your room, your cousin slowly opened your door, peeping inside to check to see if you were okay, living, and not choking to death.

He walked up to your bed and pinched your lips shut. “You need to change your settings on that noise that you’re making,” He looked at you in disgust, shaking his head, and watched as you stopped breathing and shot up from your sleep in a sitting position, knocking him on his ass on the floor.

“CHENLE WHAT THE FUCK?!” If looks could kill you’d have a red dot aimed at your forehead right now. Chenle got up and dusted himself off.

“You do know I could hear you snoring all the way across the hall?” He used his thumb and pointed outside your door, You rolled your eyes and checked your phone.

“Oh fuck!” You jumped out of bed, shoving Chenle out of the way, he landed on your bed and flopped on the floor as you grabbed your towel and rushed into the bathroom.

“YOU’RE WELCOME YOU MIX-BREED ASSHOLE!” Chenle shouted as he stormed behind you.

“CLEAN MY HOUSE YOU OBNOXIOUS PIECE OF SHIT!,” You replied as you slammed the bathroom door, minutes later you heard his bedroom slam as well, and you rolled your eyes.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

“Don’t look at me like that,” You sulk as you look away from Seughkwan. So you woke up late and got there late and when you arrived you were met with a disappointed Boo Seughkwan, arms crossed, legs over one another as he sat outside of the Spa company in the few seats placed outside, looking at you blankly.

“I have every right to jump you in this very moment–..but I’m not going to because I have a reputation to obtain here,” He got up and walked inside, with you following behind.

“Just know I would never go down without a fight, there’s only one of us who actually took boxing classes,” You raised your brow at him as he flicked your forehead and told you to keep quiet as he spoke to the receptionist.

You purse your lips as you look around the establishment, It has a cozy feel. The decor is so homely with some pictures of the employees that work here placed up on the wall, warm colors decorated the place as it was spotless you could almost see yourself on the tiled floors.

The receptionist lady asked you about your information and told you to wait in the available room on the second floor.

“Enjoy your massage babe,” Seungkwan says as he quickly places your hair in a bun (If you imagined your hair up, unimagine it, 💀 boo put it up for you).

“I heard he’s amazing at his job AND he was highly recommended when I filled out the server on your behalf,” You froze after registering his words.

“He’s?Him?He?” You side glanced at him. “Why didn’t you feel the need to mention a dude is gonna be feeling me up Mr. Boo?” You forced a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Get me a masseuse Seungkwan,”

“Y/N-”

“Get me a masseuse Seungkw-,” Seungkwan used his index and thumb to pinch your lips together. (Justice for y/n’s lips in the chat)

“I love you Y/N, I do, but last time I checked I paid for this shit, and you are going to enjoy every last minute of it, Okay?” Seungkwan asked.

“Fine,” You say with a smile that transforms into a dirty look. “This better be the most mind-blowing and toe-curling experience I’ve ever had.”

“And it would be the only and first experience you ever had,” Seungkwan mumbled as he walked to the elevator after signing some papers.

“What’d you say,” You questioned.

“Nothing,” He laughed as he pinched your cheeks while calling you all sorts of baby names.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

You entered the designated room on the second floor, wiped your palm on your shirt, and nervously opened the door. You see a little walk-in closet on the right side of the room with a curtain placed to divide the areas. You see there are a couple of hangers and a table with some towels placed beside it. You took off your shirt and placed it on one of the hangers, you quickly took off your bra and put on the towel provided. Thirdly it was your pants until you heard the door open.

“Good evening, Miss L/N, I’ll be your masseur for this session,” You froze as you peeped through the curtains to put a face to that alluring voice and you almost wished you had convinced your best friend a little more about switching.

“Um Hi, I’ll be out in a minute,” You quickly responded as you disappeared behind the curtains again.

“You can leave on your underwear if that would make you more comfortable,” Jaemin assured you as he went to set up the room. He started lighting some candles to set a relaxing mood. The whole room was filled with the soft scent of lavender and a hint of sweet orange that was rich in limonene.

You folded your pants and kept on your panty as suggested by the masseur. You walked out of the room and set your eyes upon the gorgeous man in question. He was muscular-looking, even in the scrubs he wore. He looked up at you from his place on the floor when he was searching for the oil that happened to be at the bottom back part of the drawer.

“Well you requested a full body massage and I’ll try my best to fulfill your desired needs,” Jaemin softly grinned at you and motioned for you to take a seat on the massage table, you’ll remember to put salt in Seungkwan’s coffee on Monday.

“Thank you,” You found it hard to really say anything, his stare was quite intimidating even though his smile gave you butterflies that just made your heart swell.

He turned his back to you so you took the opportunity to discard your towel and lay on the table. You laid on your back and placed the towel on top of you. Jaemin turned around with his oil in hand, smiling down at you.

“Well all you have to do for me is relax,” Jaemin said, the tone of his voice, giving you goosebumps.

“Okay,” You replied softly as you relaxed your body and closed your eyes, taking the aroma of the atmosphere and bringing your body to ease.

Jaemin adjusted your towel to your mid-thigh, the tip of his fingers lightly brushing your skin, he then moved upwards and brought the top of your towel to the midsection of your breast.

He began his work on your shoulders. He delicately kneaded the area, softly caressing all the knots you have in your neck, gently tracing under your jaw with his thumbs. It felt divine, no man had ever touched you with such thoughtfulness and you’re hoping he’s not the last.

Jaemin moved his hands slowly down your arms, gingerly squeezing the tight muscles as he steadily brought them back up, repeating the process as you felt sleep creeping up on you, Jaemin came back up to your cleavage.

“Would you mind if I removed the top of the towel?” Jaemin asked as he was still above you, looking up at him and seeing him upside down was a little odd but he still for some odd reason looked good.

“Is it mandatory for the massage?” You asked and that made Jaemin smile at you.

“Well, of course, I only deliver the best, and I may even give you a special massage,” Jaemin smiled down at you again, but the smile was different, his eyes seemed to be telling a whole other story, his hands brush the top of your chest, you mutter a quiet okay and closed your eyes once again, letting the cozy environment take over.

“Good, it’s okay, I’ll take good care of you,” He said in such a deep tone, way different from the customer service one he used when he first greeted you, you wondered if it was because he was just comfortable as it’s his natural forte.

He reached over you and moved the towel under your breast, now at the navel of your stomach, he placed it quite low but you didn’t mind. Jaemin released a slightly strained exhale as he pursed his lips and poured some of the oil into his brawny hands. His eyes fell on your nipples, customized in a barbell designed with a crystal, rhinestone, clear zircon, and a beautiful set of pink gems.

He firmly positioned his hands at the side of your breast, gently caressing the fat. He cupped it and massaged under the flesh as he slowly brought his hand up and faintly grazed your nipple. You let out a surprised gasp not expecting to be so sensitive. Jaemin looked down at you, examining your face, and noticed your mouth was slightly ajar due to the sound you let out earlier. From this angle he had the perfect chance to just shove his twitching dick down your throat, he bet it’s warm like the way your body is heating up right now but he brushed it off and continued his work on your chest.

He squeezed the flesh and watched as you hurried to bite your bottom lip, Jaemin thought it was time he went to another part of your body. He made his way to your lower body, he noticed you had on your underwear.

“Would it be okay if I asked you to remove the towel completely? since you have on your undergarments,” Jaemin asked you as he clasped his hands behind his back, staring you down deeply with a sweet smile. You nodded your head, and you gazed down at yourself, seeing your nipples stand up tall and proud, you genuinely felt way more relaxed than when you first came here.

“Wonderful, I enjoy giving pleasure to others who look like they haven’t had a good rest day,” Jaemin discarded the towel away from your body and placed it on the table beside him.

You smiled, you couldn’t conceal it, he was a sweet talker. You begin to shut your eyes and Jaemin starts to rub on your feet, you let out a soft groan, you are on your feet the majority of the time at work so this feels like heaven. He inches up your leg and starts kneading different areas, after some time he asks if you could turn over.

Jaemin has always been a man with excellent self-control but he guesses there’s a first for everything. You turned over on your stomach and Jaemin took that as a sign to take a breather, he looked down at himself and noticed his problem. At this point, he doesn’t know how long he’ll be able to hold it. He gripped himself and let out a soft sigh as he looked down at you, he furrowed his brows as he approached the table once again, contemplating if he should start with the top or lower half first.

Jaemin made up his mind as he poured some oil on your smooth back, you had laid your head on your forearm. Jaemin tenderly massaged your back, working out all sorts of sounds from you, because he’s just that good with his hands.

He finished off with your back and moved to your legs, caressing your soft thighs, eyes settling on the slight jiggle of your plump ass. He looked up at you and delicately spread your legs apart a little as he moved his way to your inner thighs. He observes the way your pussy lips struggle to stay concealed in your baby blue panties, Jaemin bites down on his tongue and took a deep exhale, swallowing down thick as he sees some wetness forming on your underwear, Jaemin continues his task as he boldly inches closer to your prized possession.

You started to squirm, feeling slightly bothered, needy even. You innocently lifted your hips off the table, trying to get some friction and squeeze your thighs together but Jaemin kept them open.

“I thought I told you to relax, If you behave I can easily give you what you want,” Somehow you can hear Jaemin like he was right by your ears and he was, he stood beside you, roughly rubbing the fat muscle of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart and watching them jiggle back in their place.

“Will you look at that,” Jaemin whispers as he takes the bottle of oils and pours some of it over your ass. Jaemin went back to the foot of the table and climbed between your legs.

“What are you doing, Jaemin?” You softly questioned Jaemin as you felt the cushion on the massage table dip under you.

“I’m just trying to get a better position so I can give you an amazing happy ending, love” That tone, he used again but this time it was more sultry and lust-filled, you could almost see the smirk on his face, you have a feeling you know where this is headed and you’re all on board with playing along, note to self buy Seungkwan dinner after you put salt in his coffee.

“Okay, I hope this all was worth the hassle,” You replied knowing damn well it was.

Jaemin bit his lips as he kneaded your ass, he used his knees to spread your legs apart more. He laid on his stomach, inched closer, rubbed his nose on the line of your panty, bit the fat of your ass, and grazed his thumb over your asshole. He dipped his head and licked the outside of your underwear, softly biting your inner thigh.

Your moans began to increase the more he teased you, as if he could read minds he turned you over, wanting to see your face.

“Would you like me to continue?” Jaemin lips started to rise on one side, giving you a teasing smile.

You blushed at his bluntness, “Eat me out Jaemin,”.

Jaemin leaned forward and pulled you by the back of your neck into a rough and sloppy kiss, honestly the best you’ve had. He gently sucked on your tongue and pulled at your hard nipple.

“So fucking sexy,” Jaemin said as he gave you a once over before spreading your legs and giving them for you to hold, he run his hands on the back of your thigh as he examines every inch of you spread out in front of him.

He hooked a finger under your panties and pulled them to the side. You let out a quiet moan as the cold air hit your wet pussy. He pushed your legs back even more so you hooked them behind your head.

“Look at this pretty pussy, so fucking wet,” Jaemin ran his finger around your lips and brought his finger to his mouth, humming about how sweet you tasted. He dipped his head and took a long swipe with his thick tongue.

“Oh fuck,” You let out a relief sign after finally getting some attention, you looked down at Jaemin sucking on your swollen clit that was painfully neglected in months. His head bobbed up and down as he took slow and sensual slurps, making your toes curl and breath hitch.

You started to rock your hip but Jaemin placed his heavy hands on your ass to hold you down, he dipped his head lower and poked his tongue on your asshole, fighting his way in.

“Maybe I’ll have to prep you another time,” Jaemin smirks as makes his way to your gaping hole, sticking his long tongue, and forcing a strained moan out of you. He looked up at you, feeling himself grow even harder if that’s possible, absolutely falling in love with the way he has you a putty just from his tongue, the way you just look so sexy to him like this, pussy all red and angry, juices dripping from his chin, the way you bite your lips to conceal your sexy whimpers.

He groped your breast and brought his attention back to your clit, switching between licking and sucking, completely abusing it. You reached your hand to his head to keep him in position.

“Oh don’t fuckin stop- oh my fucking– shit Jaemin..” You laid your head to the side, one eye clenching as your toe curled for dare life. Jaemin bore his face deeper into your soaking pussy, placing his tongue back inside as his nose rubbed your clit, sending you into cloud nine. He removed his face and quickly replaced it with his skilled hand, he placed his fingers on your clit and started swiping vigorously.

You felt your stomach suck in as you started twitching, you felt like a bucket of water was thrown over you and you woke up from a dream you’d do anything to get back to.

“Yes, look at that, wanna give me more,” Jaemin watched as you completely drenched his arm when you squirted, something you didn’t know you could do until today. He sucked up every last drop causing you overstimulation.

You removed your legs and grabbed his face, bringing him into a passionate kiss. He placed his forehead on yours smiling embarrassingly.

“You definitely have to be my soulmate if you were able to make me come in my pants without touching me,” Jaemin said with a light chuckle.

“I can do that, If you take me out on a date?, we can split the bill since I suggested,” You looked Jaemin deep into his eyes and he blushed slightly.

“I like that idea, but I’ll pay for the bill,” He kissed your lips before getting up from the table.

You both cleaned up and of course exchanged contacts, and it was history from there.

Thank you Seungkwan.

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just-a-creep-babe · 1 year ago

Text

Graveyard Shift

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Commissioned by anonymous, thank you so much luv! ❣❤

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

The fluorescent lights hum overhead as (y/n) fills out the required paperwork

It’s only been a few weeks since she’s started the job, but working at the hospital has already become a sort of comforting routine

She knows what needs to be done, knows what her superiors want from her, and she’s even already befriended some of the longer-term patients along with her fellow coworkers

The work comes with its downsides, of course—hospitals aren’t exactly the happiest places in the world—but at least the night shifts aren’t all that bad; she can avoid grieving families, and most patients are usually fast asleep anyways

While most people would probably turn their noses up at this kind of job, (y/n) actually enjoyed it—especially compared to the stress and misery of med school

She finishes writing up the report, then turns to her coworker

“Hey, I think this was the last thing Hannah mentioned on the list. Do you know if there’s anything else left for me?”

Her coworker offers a half-hearted shrug, not once looking up from the front desk monitor

“There’s a clipboard next to the second computer with a list of meds some patients need to take. I can let Hannah know you’re on it, she’ll appreciate it”

“Of course,” (y/n) smiles

Even though he was sometimes a bit disinterested, (y/n) genuinely did enjoy working with James; things were always straight-forward and simple with him

She checks on the clipboard marked with the information, then turns toward James

“Hey, shouldn’t all of these be digitized?”

“Mmh, they are,” he answers, “but you know how Hannah is”

“Right,” she chuckles, shaking her head, “alright, well, I’ll be back in a few”

He gives a noncommittal hum, and then she leaves the front desk to get the necessary supplies

It’s a calm night, all things considered, but she doesn’t mind it

She much rather prefers these kinds of shifts over the more chaotic ones, anyways

She reaches the room marked “Employees Only,” flicks the lights on, and steps in

Filing cabinets carefully labeled with various drugs and an assortment of medical instruments are neatly stored in their respective places

(Y/n) makes her way through them, taking what she needs according to the papers

She finds the necessary pills and distributes them to their designated containers, then sets some additional supplies onto a cart to wheel out to the patients

She maneuvers the cart out of the room, letting the door close behind her with a resounding click as it locks automatically

And then she hums softly to herself as she makes her way through the mostly empty corridors

One by one, she visits the patients, gently wakes them up, and helps them take what they need

She's about halfway through delivering all of the prescriptions when she notices, out of the corner of her eyes, one of the lights down the hall is flickering

She glances up, and for a split second, her heart jumps to her throat when she notices it; a figure dressed in all black stands motionless beneath the malfunctioning light

She can only assume, judging by the height and broadness of the shoulders, that they're male, and the way he's gazing down combined with the unreliable lighting makes it basically impossible to discern any of his facial features

(Y/n) places a hand over her chest, feeling her frantic heartbeat returning to a more rhythmic tempo as the initial surprise wears off

Curiously, she tilts her head

The silhouette doesn't seem familiar, and he looks much too sturdy on his feet to be a sick patient

She considers whether or not she should call out to them

Do they need some kind of assistance? Are they maybe lost or something?

She doesn't want to raise her voice too loudly so as to not disturb the patients, so instead, she takes a step forwards, but then she finds herself hesitating

Something about this whole thing seems... off

Her teeth chew at her bottom lip in contemplation

And, for a few seconds, she stares at the figure, and even though she can't see his eyes, the figure seems to stare back at her

The hairs at the back of her neck stand stiff

Tension mounts with every passing breath

Until eventually, she can't stand waiting any longer

She abandons her cart to investigate further, taking a few steps on the tiled floor in his direction

But just when she's only a few feet away, the light gives out completely, and that section of the corridor is suddenly drenched in darkness

She gasps, adrenaline spiking in her system, but before she can call out, the light flickers back on, and where there was once a silhouette, there's now... nothing

No one

The woman furrows her brow in uncertainty

There's almost nowhere he could've gone so quickly undetected

A shiver crawls up her spine

Did she just imagine it?

She takes one last step forwards, carefully looking around behind some of the potted plants, but the hallway's empty

She shakes her head, trying to push away the mental image of that figure standing menacingly in front of her

Crick

She whips around, expecting the figure to somehow be behind her, but all she sees is her cart rolling a few inches forwards

She makes her way back towards it, her nerves still on edge as she reaches out to stop it from rolling into the wall

She swallows thickly

Is the floor uneven, and that's why it moved on its own?

She tells herself it is, mostly just because she doesn't want to consider any other possibilities, and she really just wants any excuse to get out of this corridor

With one last quick look over her shoulder, she shakes her head, and finishes distributing the medicine

She tells herself the feeling of being watched is just paranoia

It's only on her way back to the "Employees Only" room that she realizes something's wrong

The keycard she'd left on her cart is gone, but worse than that, a pit of dread knots in her stomach when she notices the door is open

It's open by just the faintest crack, but it's more than enough to set off alarm bells in her head

Not to mention, the light inside doesn't seem to be on, meaning it's probably not one of her coworkers

Why would anyone need to go in there in the dark?

She knows she shouldn't investigate on her own

But it's like she's lulled to the door, like curiosity or fate or some other inexplicable influence coaxes her into pressing her hand to the smooth surface, then slowly pushing it almost all the way open

It's too dark to see anything

She squints, her eyes unable to make out any concrete forms in the darkness

And it's silent inside, but the silence almost feels unnatural

It's deafening

She holds her breath, suddenly acutely aware of her own heart beating in her chest again

Slowly and quietly releasing a lungful of air, she reaches for the light switch

White light spills into the room in a sudden burst, and the intensity makes her recoil for a moment before her eyes finally adjust and she sees it—she sees him

The same figure from earlier stands with his back toward the door

A mess of medical supplies—various pills, bags of fluids, syringes and bandages—are splayed out on the counter next to a large duffel bag that looks half full

She doesn’t know how to react, doesn’t know what to say or what to do

She's completely shocked, frozen in place at the sight of this man before her

He’s easily over 6 feet tall, and he’s wearing a black hoodie, but even through it, she can tell he’s strong

He turns around, and that's when she finally sees his face

Or, at least, she would see his face, if the blue mask wasn't covering his identity

She gasps

She almost can't tell if it’s just some kind of special effect, but it looks like he has no eyes

Two black pits lie in the place of his ocular cavities, with streams of black liquid flowing freely down the front of his cheeks

Just like when she'd seen him down the hall, he doesn't move

He simply stands there, and for a few seconds, tension rises between them as neither say or do anything

The spell is only broken when, almost as if out of curiosity, he cocks his head to the side

And it’s like that simple movement is enough to snap her out of it

She runs

Her frantic steps echo down the hall, undoubtedly disturbing some of the patients, but at this point, she's beyond caring

She needs to find security, or James or Hannah—anyone!

Duffel bag slung over his shoulder, Jack watches from a distance as (y/n) reaches an emergency phone to call security

He was being sloppy, he knows he was, and while he'd usually be angry at himself, watching the rush of panic on the cute girl’s face somehow dissipates his anger

That’s cute, he thinks, she’s cute when she’s all flustered

He watches as she frantically scans down the hallway, almost like she's expecting him to chase after her

Part of him wants to

God, he really wants to

His instincts are clamoring to hunt her down, have the scent of her fear and adrenaline permeate the air as she tries to escape the inevitability of getting caught by him

He wants to give her a good scare, he wants to burn the image of him in her mind

The thought brings a mischievous grin to his face

He’s not usually one to play with his food, for lack of a better term, but something about this girl has just piqued his interest

He stays there, hidden just out of sight, watching until two security guards show up

They exchange a few quick words before she points in his direction, and they start walking toward him

Recognizing his cue to leave, he slips away in the midst of the chaos and confusion, his skill and experience making it a breeze to get away

But he knows that won’t be the last time he sees her

It takes a few days, but (y/n) eventually readjusts to working the graveyard shift at the hospital

She’d taken the rest of the week off after encountering the masked stranger, and even during the next couple of shifts, she was paranoid and on edge the entire time

However, things do settle back down, until she finds herself returning to routine not too long afterward

It’s a stormy Thursday night when she ends up back in the storage room, the room she'd come face-to-face with the intruder

She, admittedly, has been avoiding going back in, but tonight, she needs to restock some supplies, and she knows that she realistically can't avoid that room forever

It’s alright, she tells herself, nothing’s going to happen

The door unlocks with a swipe of her card; said card, of which, she now never leaves out of sight, and she opens the light as soon as she can reach for it

It feels like childish relief when she sees that the room truly is empty

No scary boogeyman hiding in the corner, peering out at her with an endless abysmal gaze

With her back to the door, she begins searching through cabinets and files to get the equipment she needs

And then she feels it; that familiar prickling sensation of being watched

She stiffens, suddenly feeling very exposed very alone and very vulnerable

It’s just paranoia, there’s nothing there, she tries to reassure herself

And she almost doesn’t want to turn around, doesn’t want to find out who—if anyone—is behind her

But alas, curiosity getting the better of her once more, she turns

A yelp escapes her, and the container she was holding falls out of her grasp, exploding in a mess of pills on the floor

The man, a tall and entirely too familiar figure dressed in all black, safe for that blue mask, seems unfazed by her reaction

He walks forwards in confident strides until he’s inches away from her

With her back pressing up against the counter, she flinches

He's towering over her

He raises a hand, and she squeezes her eyes shut, expecting him to hit her

But instead, his touch and slow and gentle as he caresses her face—like a lover’s embrace

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t say anything, but his chest vibrates with a hum, almost like a purr, at the sight of her fear

This close, she can see that it wasn’t just some special effect; he really doesn’t have eyes

Two gaping holes somehow peer into her, oozing that thick tar-like liquid

She feels sick

“What… what do you want?”

She manages to choke the words out, her voice quiet and shaky and utterly terrified

The man hums again

“Cute,” he says the word simply

His voice is a low, deep timbre, and it would be a soothing one at that, if she wasn’t so scared right now

Unease twists at her stomach like nausea

Her eyes dart behind the man, to the door leading out of the room, but she knows there’s no way she’d be able to get past him

Not judging by the size of the guy

Maybe if she buys more time, someone might pass down the hallway, and then she could call out for help or something

Taking in a shaky breath, she tries another question

“Are you… are you going to hurt me?”

She flinches again

Hearing herself say it out loud makes it all feel so much more real

But, at this question, the man appears amused

He makes a gravelly sound, one that she interprets as his laugh, and then he answers

“Hurt you, little morsel?”

He hums, tracing his fingertips along her cheekbone

“No, I’m not going to hurt you," he reassures, "I’m going to make you mine”

#creepypasta #eyeless Jack #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta x reader #crp

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eloquent-edits · 9 months ago

Note

Hello!!!!

I'm writing a rivals to lovers office AU and am in need of some inspiration. Can you please do a list of office AU prompts? I don't mind if they get suggestive.

Absolutely! (Also thank you for being the first person to request prompts :3)

Character A and character B have issues with their work computers at the same time, and the poor IT guy has to deal with their bickering while fixing the computers

The printer is constantly breaking and A can’t help but snidely remark on B’s struggle every time it happens

B critiques A’s work whenever they get the chance, claiming A needs to do better if they want to get up to B’s level (the criticism is actually kind of helpful, just poorly worded)

B’s desk is across from A’s, leading to stare-downs when the other seems to be slacking on work and eyebrow raises when personal calls are taken

A leaves anonymous sticky notes on B’s desk about office drama, rumors, and random news stories to see what sort of conversations B likes (B usually looks at these with confusion, throwing them away buT THEY KEEP SHOWING UP WHY)

In the company project group chat, A and B don’t acknowledge each other outside of emoji reactions unless it is necessary

They are forced to work together on a major project with much longer hours than they expected, leading to sleep deprived A actually being nice to B in the mornings (they share a quiet moment at the coffee machine)

B’s ex comes into the office as another company’s assistant, and A can’t help but be concerned at the grimace and pain in B’s eyes

A starts using the printer incidents to ask about B’s history and get to know them better

A celebration at work includes a happy hour, so B dresses up just a little more than usual and A cannot stop staring

B notices A is lingering around their desk more and teases them about wanting to take their spot (A definitely wants to take them in a fight right?)

A’s car won’t start in the parking lot, so B offers to jump it… it’s the first time seeing B less professional (let’s get those sleeves rolled up and a couple buttons loosened from the button-down)

The AC breaks while only a couple people are in office, meaning it’s up to A and B to try and fix it while waiting on maintenance, leading to B on a ladder and A most definitely trying to not stare at their butt

C, an older friend at the office, retires and throws a massive party where A and B get a little too drunk, and B accidentally compliments A instead of criticizing them (A doesn’t know how to process it and B refuses to acknowledge this ever happened)

After A openly disagrees with one of B’s ideas, B confronts them privately, getting a little too close as A is stubborn and standing firm (give me that tension you can cut with a knife, give me that turn away because otherwise one of them will do something they regret)

B finds A asleep at their desk one morning and can’t decide whether to wake them up for the meeting or to let them sleep longer because this is definitely not normal for A

Turns out A worked their ass off to get a major promotion, one that B was eyeing for a while, which makes B jealous and get a little snappy

A is shifted to another area of the office and an annoying coworker, C, takes over the old spot. B finds the change welcoming and unsettling (“They’re not here to bother me anymore…” “That’s a good thing!” “… Yes. I suppose you’re right.”)

B is called into A’s office to discuss another coworkers’ weird behavior, which gives A the opportunity to call B out on their behavior around A

“It’s like on day one of me working here, you put a note in your calendar that said to torment me whenever you could.”

“You’ve gone from criticizing everything I do to actually being somewhat nice and helpful and then right back to being an absolute prick! I don’t understand it at all. What changed? You still seem to hate me, so why be so kind? Why?”

B doesn’t respond with words, just by slowly reaching out to touch A’s hand and swiftly pulling them into a kiss (ideally B would explain more later but that’s up to you hehe)

#answered asks #prompt request #writing prompts #writing #prompts #prompt list #character dynamics #rivals to lovers prompts #rivals to lovers #dialogue prompts #imagine your otp #office aus #office au #also very sorry for the delay in responding!#it’s been a really hectic week #and the next two weeks are going to be just as insane

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oonajaeadira · 1 year ago

Text

A Welcome Home At Resolution Ranch

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle / Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

Pairing: Jack Daniels x reader

Reader: Adult female. Former agent, now the manager at a guest ranch. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

Rating: T. Fluff.

Warnings: A little bit of angst, but on the edge of healing

Summary: When the news comes through that Jack met his end in Cambodia, you know better.

A/N: Well howdy, friends, and welcome to a good, soft, fix-it fic. What inspired this? @writeforfandoms did when she sent in an ask for a game....

"I wish you would write a fic where Jack is fine and nothing hurts and there are stars in the sky and there is plenty of banter and softness. Maybe horses."

Since her birfday is this week and writing Jack for each other is a love language, this is especially for her. <3

“You sure I’m ready to go on my own?”

Charity is a good girl. A little accident-prone at times, sure, but it’s mainly out of a lack of confidence. She’s got a real knack with the horses though, and you’ve learned to let her be on hand whenever the ranch has new guests check in; that million-watt smile of hers is worth a welcome mat covered in gold. She is Jack’s kin in every way, except he sucked up all the ego in the family and left little over for his niece.

Handing her the roster clipboard, you grant her an approving grin. “You grew up on these trails. You know them better than I ever will. You’re every ounce the guide any of us are. Now you’ve got eight guests riding with you this evening, two of them are about your age, and pretty handsome young gentlemen. You’re about to win the hearts of some suitors with that sweetness of yours…and if not, then for sure their grandparents. Have fun. Oh,” you remember, pointing to a name on the roster, “this lady here is a bit of a tick, but she has it bad for Morgans. Put her on Sasha and she’ll be shining so bright there’s nothing gonna dim her stars.”

“But Sasha’s your horse.”

“She won’t mind. Now get. And remember–”

Charity rolls her eyes. “Don’t let anyone tell me that they know horses better than I do, I know.”

“Good girl. Now you do a good job on your first solo run and I’ll have a big surprise waiting for you when you come back, hear?”

“I’m not a kid. I don’t need a reward.”

Turning the girl around by the shoulders and sending her off in the direction of the stables, you refrain from swatting her playfully, showing her the respect of a coworker. “And I’m not baking you cookies either. I’m not going with you tonight because I have something I gotta do. You’ll get the benefit of that thing whether you do a good job or not. I was trying to be encouraging.”

Her black braid swings down her back as she walks off to her task–both excited and scared, clutching the clipboard with both hands.

“Oh, and Charry?” She stops to turn and listen. “Don’t put anyone on Whiplash. Leave her in the stable tonight.”

Once she’s given you a nod and marched out of sight, you wander back into the main lodge and relieve everyone for a few hours. You’re ready to take the front desk on your own. No worries, you explain, there’s only one guest booked to come in in the next hour and everyone else is out on the twilight ride. You’ll take it from here.

Once the lobby is quiet, you prop yourself out on the porch in a rocking chair with your boots up on the railing, tip your hat down low, and keep your eyes on the horizon--gradually more pink and gold by the minute--where any cars coming over the mile-long driveway can’t pass your notice.

It’s been six years now since you were secretly decommissioned from Statesman and your agent status revoked. Emotional trauma is a hell of a thing, and some agents take a beating. When head of the organization deems an agent unfit for duty with needs of long-term recovery and care, it’s their call to order it and–with the help of one other top officer–secretly install the probationed agent in a situation where they are anonymous and removed from any society that they could harm or could harm them. The organizational file would relate how the agent was killed in action, with the true story being kept by the two in charge. A total erasure of personage, total disappearance.

If and when the agent passed an evaluation and elected to return, they became extremely valuable as a secret operative, since everyone would assume they were deceased.

If they decided not to return, the agency made sure they were provided for. For life.

Sometimes they came back; thrill of the hunt, what they know best and all that. But overall, the return rate was low. Something about a slow down calls after a life of deception.

In your case, Jack was chosen as Champ’s second and–having always been one of the only agents that damn cowboy liked working with–suggested you head up his family ranch for your rehab period. Tasked you with making it a nice working vacation ranch for families. Came out and visited you often enough to make sure you were getting on.

And, of course, to make sure you were getting off too.

There was a lot of hay on property, and Jack was a damn nice rolling partner. Said that he liked that he never had to pretend with you. Not now, not ever.

And you always felt exactly the same.

But the timing was never perfect. And the world had always needed one or the other of you to save it.

Distractions.

After the requisite five year probation, Champ and Jack made the ceremonial trip out and asked if you’d like to be re-evaluated and “reborn”. As much as you’d been itching during the first couple of years to get back in the game, the quiet life had softened your body and won your heart. You’d gained the trust of the employees. Knew all the horses and their idiosyncracies by heart. It had become your home. Walking away to spend days without sleep, lying, taking lives without stopping to think twice….just didn’t appeal anymore.

With Champ’s understanding, you had respectfully retired, and with Jack’s blessing, you’d planted yourself permanently. The ranch was your calling. Your heart. Even with some of Jack’s relatives working and living here it could get lonely at times, but then you’d catch yourself watching the fireflies in the sunset or riding Sasha through a particularly pretty meadow and everything seemed right with the world.

And hells. If the lack of companionship was the only thing you had to complain about, well the universe must have heard. It’s rung the hospitality bell for you.

Taking the letter out of your pocket, you glance over it one more time. An announcement of an agent down. Cambodia. Drug conspiracy. Agents Galahad, Galahad, and Merlin of Kingmen, London. Agent Whiskey showing mental trauma and poor judgment. A violent engagement. A meat grinder. Signed by Head Agent Champagne.

So that’s the story they assigned him, huh. A meat grinder? Really? So stupid. But then, you got to assist in penning your own death, so it makes all the sense in the world that Jack got to have a say in his. Of course he was going to go out in the corniest way possible, of course he was.

Tsk. A meat grinder. Jesus.

Before long, the stars are starting to peek out and there’s a plume of dust on the horizon. Then a black car at the core of it, making its way along the drive. By the time it pulls up in front of the porch, you’ve hidden the letter back in your pocket, stood and made your way to the bottom of the steps.

Two doors open. From the front a driver emerges, short and sturdy, young and hale, heading for the trunk to retrieve luggage. But when the back door opens, there’s the duo of a boot and a Stetson which emerge together then unfold into a tall, cool drink of Jack Daniels.

It’s a showdown at twilight, but you both keep your hearts in your holster for the time being and instead reach for your sass. “Driver? This here’s a working ranch, so you can just leave the luggage. Guests here are required to haul their own.”

They do as they’re told with a nod, dropping two suitcases and a duffel in the dust. The whole time Jack stands, unmoving, hands on hips, watching with a bemused incredulity as the driver then simply gets back behind the wheel and literally drives off into the sunset, leaving Jack's bags like carrion.

“Well shit. Is that any way to welcome a man home?”

“Maybe I just wanted you all to myself, cowboy. You ever think of that?”

There’s a delicious moment underscored by cricket strings that allows for both of your grins to stretch to full capacity.

But still, he’s a man whose wind has abandoned his sails and you both know why he’s here. It doesn’t mean he’s not still Jack Daniels though. And while he might not come at you with an oppressive swagger, he still comes to you, the cockiness giving way to a genuine fondness.

“Well. Hello, gorgeous.”

“Let me guess,” you tease, opening your arms to guide him to his landing, “You have a pack of cold ones and your roomie’s out so I can scream your name as loud as I want.”

His embrace is more than just happiness to see you. It’s heavy with relief, with longing. He needs it from you as much as you from him, and he hums low into your neck as he lifts you so that your toes just leave the ground before plopping you back down. This is the point where the usual hug might end, but he stays. He stays just a few more breaths and you can tell he’s taking a cure in the moment.

“Come on, cowboy,” you hum into his shoulder. “Let me help you with these bags. I prepared the best room in the house for you.”

Silently, you both heft a suitcase and he takes the extra duffel, and you make it up the stairs of the main house to the biggest bedroom and flip on the light.

“Isn’t this your bedroom, Brandy?”

Throwing a suitcase on the quilted bed you shake a finger at him. “Uh uh uh, that’s not my name anymore, Whiskey.”

He follows suit, unburdening himself. “And that’s not mine. Belongs to Ginger now.”

You can’t--and won't--hide your delight. “Well hot shit. Good for her. She’s always wanted to go out into the field.” But it’s also bittersweet. It's been six years. “How is my girl?”

“Oh, she’s doing real fine. Took over as Champ’s right hand when I went out and Tequila hopped the pond to work for those Brits.”

“Damn. Well, I’m proud of her. I wish I could tell her. If I could have just had one more agent to keep in touch with….wait.” Something in Jack’s little smile gives you pause. “Waaaaait a minute. Did she–???”

He finishes the thought for you. “With the transfer of title, she also became Champ’s number two. So she’s got access your retirement file. I’m sure she’ll be booking a vacation here soon enough.”

Turning to the window and clamping a hand over your mouth, you hold your own reflection and do your best to keep the tears for later. It’s been six years and your old friend is in Kentucky right now, finding out any day now that you’re not dead after all, that you’re only a plane ride away. A long dreamed-for reunion is coming. Oh god.

But Jack’s here now, and he’s going to need your support. And of course he’ll demand your attention–”You never answered my question. Where are you sleeping if I’m in here?”

Turning to him, you wink. “Who said I was moving out of this room?” His blush signals that you’ve just out-Jacked Jack Daniels. Stepping in closer, you take his hand. “Hey. I just wanted to give you a view of the stables. If you want me here, I’ll share the room with you. If not, the guest room is free and I’m comfortable sleeping there too. This is your home now, cowboy. I want you to see the sun in the morning. Give you a reason to get up every day.”

“Sunshine’s wherever you are, partner. It’d actually be real nice to have a reason to stay in bed.”

His words spread through you like a good bourbon. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” It’s a warm moment, new for both of you. Instead of the thrill of the promise of sharing a bed and the obvious adventure that awaits, you have something now that you both never had before–time. Time to hold. Time to breathe. Time to heal and take it soft and slow. “Come on, cowboy. I wanna show you something.”

Picking up his Stetson from the bed, you place it lovingly on his head, your fingertips lingering as they trail down his sideburns. He wears the hat well, and the facial hair. And the deep adoration. Before he gets lost in the moment, you lead him out of the main house and down toward the stables.

“So. A meat grinder.”

He grins as he watches his feet, big hands swinging at his side. “Can’t blame a man for people wanting to remember his demise. That one’ll be talked about.”

“Little over the top, isn’t it?”

“That’s the way I went in, apparently.”

“Stupidest death I’ve ever heard of.”

“But you’ll remember it, won’t you.”

Rolling your eyes, you lead him to one of the front stalls of the stable. “Yeah, but I’d never believe it. Jack Daniels? Taken down by an unarmed, unstable agent and his apprentice? This hulk of a man tossed around and yanked into a grinder as if there’s one big enough to take you?”

“You’re real hung up on the meat grinder part, aren’t you. You do know the target was actually processing people and making them into burgers, right? I don’t see why it’s so unbelievable–” But he stops like stone when you reach your target stall. “Is that…Well slap my chaps. That’s the prettiest mustang I’ve ever seen.”

“You like her?” Clicking your tongue, the lithe and beautiful bay immediately comes to you, tossing her mane, ready for the apple you’ve got on offer. And when you hide it behind your back, she knows to put her nose to yours, to nuzzle you gently. “This is Whiplash. Fast as a shooting star and twice as bright. Picked her out myself. Helped Charity to train her up, which is why she’s also sweet. That girl has the patience of a saint. Must get it from the other side of the family. But this mare was a passion project for both of us. Thought you might like to claim her,” you say, handing the apple over to him and, with it, Whiplash’s attentions. “Anytime you need to clear your head, she’ll run you to the moon and back.”

Jack holds out the apple reverently with one hand, running the other along the mare’s neck. “Always wanted a mustang. Thought I’d have to settle for the automotive variety. They’re not the kind of horse you keep at a pedestrian ranch for just anyone to ride.”

“I know. It was meant to be a surprise for your next visit. But now that you’re here to stay, she’s even more yours than she was before.”

Now it’s Jack’s turn to hold those tears for later, his beautiful brown eyes gathering up all the rising moonlight. Swallowing hard, he gives you a nod, a thanks that he can’t put into words just yet. Instead, he deflects. “Where is my favorite niece?”

“Your only niece is out leading a twilight ride. It’s her first lead. I told her I’d have a reward waiting for her when she got back as long as all the guests are alive and kicking. She doesn’t know you’re coming yet.”

He nods. Goes back to petting Whiplash. The full day and the journey finally come to settle on him and all his thoughts seem to rise to the surface and float in his tired expression.

You reach out. Hook a finger in his belt loop and give it a coy tug. “Hey. Can I ask you...what happened, Jack?”

He has to take a breath. Two. Then he gives Whiplash a final pat and takes your hand, weaving it through the crook of his arm, and you wander out into the darkening pasture together.

The mission was nearly doomed from the start. With Tequila down and Harry still recovering and Eggsy still green, it was just a mess. It didn’t help that his heart wasn’t in it, that he kept thinking about his loss so many years ago, that maybe it was better if all the addicts were just taken down in one fell swoop so they could stop hurting themselves and everyone else. Running the New York branch and distribution on top of fucking saving the world every five minutes–the burnout was getting to him and just made him fixate more.

Harry saw through him but misinterpreted his reluctance. Harry shot him to take him out of commission, knowing full well that Ginger could fix him. Jack went back into action too soon, too hot. Went straight to Cambodia. Joined in the fray. Ended up taking out his rage on Poppy and brutally jamming a needle in her neck, overdosing and killing her rather than neutralizing her and taking her in as he should have. Harry and Eggsy were kind. Stood up for him with Champ. Helped to corroborate a story so he could step down. Jack let the record show that they were the heroes so they could go back to the Kingsmen in triumph and he could heal in peace.

This is what surprises you the most.

That Jack let himself go down as the bad guy.

“You could have just said you were taken down by one of Poppy’s men and walked away a martyr.”

He simply watches the first fireflies come out in answer to the first stars, squeezes your hand a little tighter, shakes his head. “If I’d had my head in the game, a good agent wouldn’t have died. Merlin. His name was Agent Merlin. Damn fine man. And if Harry and Eggsy hadn’t been the excellent agents they are, my lapse of judgment could have killed a lot more folks. This is my way to atone.”

“And there’s no way in hell you’d let anyone think you got taken down by some nameless thug.”

“Shit. Got me there.”

All you can do is show agreement with a knowing nod. “You know, when I first came out here, I couldn’t wait to leave. But you knew, didn’t you. You knew that I needed this.”

“I did.”

“Cocky bastard,” you mumble in loving admonishment. “Did you understand that you were nearing the end too? That you were sending me out here to give me time to be ready to bring you home?”

“I wasn’t aware of it at the time, probably a little too confident to ever think I should stop.” He turns to you, a sweet little apology in the corner of his smile. “But maybe a little part of me knew.”

“Yeah, that little part of you has gotten me into trouble before.”

He huffs a little laugh, tilts your chin up with a knuckle. Still holding your hand and sliding it inside his jacket against his chest he whispers, “Ain’t the part I was talking about, sweetheart.”

When he kisses you, it’s a different Jack than the one you used to settle for on occasion. This Jack is ready to put down his revolvers and his whip, ready to concentrate on himself, on you, on a life far from trouble. His kiss holds in it the promise of summer sunsets and long trail rides, of barbecues and lemonade and lazy mornings sleeping in. And there will be stars that are brighter...and nights under them for just the two of you. It’s a kiss that leaves no doubt that there will be many more to follow, each one with its own brand of sweetness and a happy ending well-earned.

No more distractions.

Time enough.

_____

MASTERLIST

CHARACTER MASTERLIST

#a birfday fic with love #kingsman golden circle fanfic #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #fix-it fic

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astyrial · 9 months ago

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the history teacher atsumu miya x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: it's hard having the hot history teacher right next door word count: 1.1k warnings: atsumu is so flirtatious omg masterlist | requests are open

a bell rings throughout the high school as students shuffle to get all of their items together. as your gaze finds the clock, you realize it's lunch time for most of the junior students. you take in a deep sigh and clasp your hands together in front of you, "don't forget, chapter five and six tonight, make sure to finish the questions. and there are some on the back!"

you watch as all of your students file out of the room, one of them staying behind. mae, your brightest and most promising student, walks over to you, book in her hand. she always liked staying behind, talking about how you're her favorite teacher. she purses his lips and sighs before finally telling you what plagues her mind.

"i need some advice... about guys,” she brings her focus onto you, figuring that no one could overhear her.

"mmh okay, well i am by far the best person in that department, but what's on your mind?" your eyebrows raise for a second, a calming smile on your lips.

mae takes in a deep breath, eyes flickering between you and the door, "someone has been leaving notes in my locker, anonymous ones. they feature poems but i don't know who it is. i just wish i did so i could talk to him."

"i'm sorry mae, maybe you just have to give it a little more time. if he really likes you, he'll let you know it's him. either through little things that remind you of him or a written confession. i'm sure it'll be fine," you lean against your desk, your own gaze finding the door when you see the figure of your coworker.

he leans up against the door, right eyebrow raised. his shoulders are wide, a polo shirt just slightly unbuttoned. you look back at your student, finger pointing towards the clock, "you should probably get to lunch, wouldn't want you missing out because of a secret admirer."

mae nods, scratching the back of her neck before turning around to leave. with a couple of books in hand, it takes her a minute to look up and notice your coworker standing there, she looks back at you, a cheeky smile on her lips. you shrug your shoulders until she leaves, watching as she gives a short goodbye to the school's most interesting history teacher.

he takes a few steps into the room, shirt ever so slightly small around his biceps. you look over at your computer, eyes trying to hide from his. however, there's something so intriguing about him that you can't help but meet his gaze. him, the history teacher, the one who is in a room next to yours, the one who always finds a way to see you.

"ms. l/n... i overheard you aren't a pro when it comes to romance. considering how beautiful you are, i'm very surprised," he reaches his hand out and taps one of the student's desks, gaze not breaking yours.

you nod, shrugging your shoulders, truly watching him sway into your classroom nearly takes your breath away. the way he can just walk so effortlessly to you, "well mr. miya-"

"you know you can call me atsumu, i've always told you that," a few pieces of rich brown hair falls down, one hand moving to push it back into place.

"i wouldn't think that to be very professional, especially if you call me ms. l/n all the time. besides, i think that miya is a great name," your hands becoming clammy as they push against your desk, heartbeat quickening as he takes a few more steps in your direction.

he lets out a hearty laugh but doesn't stop his runway walk towards you. the leather belt he's sporting keeps the shirt tight enough against his stomach that you can almost see his abs. despite you knowing that starting anything with a coworker is an awful idea, you can't help but wonder if anything could happen between the two of you.

"well, y/n... how does that sound? you call me atsumu and i call you y/n. and by the way, i love how your breath hitches whenever i say your name," atsumu finally makes it to your desk, resting a hand on your desk, body a mere foot away from you.

you bite your top lip while looking away from him, shaking your head slightly. of course your breath hitches as he comes ever so close to you. he's been this way ever since you met him and he's right. you do like him, especially as he tilts his head in such a cocky manner. "i don't know what you're talking about... atsumu."

a smile stretches across his face at his name coming from your mouth. atsumu then leans a little closer to you, breath just barely brushing across your skin. "right... well, y/n, how would you feel about dinner, saturday? because i know an amazing chef," he brings his free hand to rest on his hip, most likely flexing his arm a little.

"dinner? mmh you may have to let me think about it," you turn back to look at him, his face inches away from yours, his golden brown eyes flickering between yours.

"it seems that you may already have an answer," atsumu's ears perk up a little and his hand reaches for yours, "either that or i'm completely misinterpreting how you look at me. by the way, my eyes are up here, for future reference."

heat rises to your cheeks as you bite the inside of your cheek, gaze turning to the floor. you sigh, feeling his hand running over yours. "i have no idea what you're talking about. however, i may have already thought it over and would love to join you for dinner," you finally look back up and can't help but take in a sharp breath.

atsumu smiles, leaning back again, nodding. he runs his thumb along the back of your hand before grabbing his phone from his pocket. he holds it out to you, not able to keep his eyes from you, "you want to add your number in here?"

"alright, atsumu, if you insist."

you begin to type your number into his phone, removing your hand from his. however, neither of you notice it when your student mae has returned to to grab one of her other books, that same knowing smile on her face. she may not be able to recognize the romance within her own life, but she can definitely see how you see the history teacher from next door.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #teacher x teacher #atsumu miya fluff #atsumu miya fanfic #x reader #x fem!reader

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mahs-dumpster · 11 months ago

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a/n: this is supposed to be a small vignette story for this drawing I made-- anyways posting this and running away

contents: oc x canon

tagging: @viilpstick bc I told u I would write this

“Perse, someone left you a flower.” Vil said as he observed his friend and devoted fan get to class. As the girl set her school bag beside her chair she stared at the flower with curiosity, picking it up to examine its delicate petals. “Any idea who it is from?”

“...no.” she said, though her tone was rather distant as she stared at the plant. “It's a pomegranate flower. My favorite.”

“The person must know you well, then. I had no idea, since you're fond of flowers in general.”

“Yes. It's been my favorite ever since I was young.” She grabbed a book and pressed the flower between its pages, trying to make sure the flower would stay with her for a while.

Perse sat down, fixing her hair and putting her book away. “I suppose whoever it is won't be stupid enough to try it again.”

“Why, do you not like secret admirers?”

“No. It's cowardice in my opinion. Sending someone gifts anonymously because they don't have the guts to talk to me in person.” She frowned and sighed. “I’m sorry for bothering you so early with this. I do hope you don't mind, Dahlia.”

“And there we go with those nicknames of yours…” Vil sighed with a slight smile on his face. “Well, do tell me if you ever find out who this admirer of yours is. I’m rather curious to know who this coward could be.”

As Vil went back to check on his makeup before the teacher arrived, Perse stayed quiet, deep in thought as she frowned slightly while remembering the flower.

•••

“Perse Achillea! Someone gifted you a flower!” Little Ortho’s voice was heard by the girl who had been way too focused on her game to notice the flower that had been put in front of her door. She took her headphones off and walked towards the door which Ortho had previously walked — well, flew — by, and said flower was in the robot’s hand.

A pomegranate flower. Yet again.

Perse picked up the flower from his hands and stared at it, her eyebrows frowning at that. “I thought he would’ve given up. I clearly didn't make any effort to meet him.”

“Him? Do you happen to know who he is?” the boy questioned, curious but also a bit sad. Ortho was sure Perse and his brother were meant to be! But now this happens…

“No.” Perse quickly says, leaving the flower on her desk and going back to her game, headphones on. “I don't care anyway. I'm not interested in whoever is sending me these.”

“But for him to send you a flower, it must mean he cares about you.” Ortho makes a point, getting closer to her and taking her headphones off, making the girl complain as he held it high as he floated. He laughed at that and Perse couldn’t be mad at Ortho of all people. “I mean, it even has a note.”

“A note?” Perse questions, her curiosity coming back. “Why didn't you tell me before? Where is it, Ortho?”

“Well… I can give it to you, but!” He lifted a finger, still holding her headphones on his other arm. “I want permission to call you big sis for a week.”

“Ortho, we’ve talked about this.” Perse sighs and massages her forehead.

“I know, but please! It's not that big of a deal! I mean I'm- I'm not even my big brother’s actual brother anyway.” the younger one argued, and Perse felt her heart break upon hearing those words.

Ortho was someone she cared deeply, even if this Ortho wasn't… well, you know. Still, despite being a robot he was considered a Shroud, and Shrouds and Achilleas… they weren't meant to be anything but “coworkers”. They couldn't be anything but “master and servant”. Anything other than that was wrong. It doesn't matter how much she appreciates Ortho, how much she loved how kind and warm he was, how loving and affectionate he could be… it was… wrong.

“Ortho, listen…”

“Please.”

As she stared at his big yellow eyes, Perse's defenses began to go down, her walls began to break — well, just a bit. Her logical side was still very much present.

Perse sighed and scratched her neck. “Not a week, four days. For days of calling me that, no more.” Ortho threw himself at the girl, his metal arms seemed to crush her in a hug and it was a bit painful, but it didn't matter how much she complained Ortho kept hugging her and pulling her in his arms. Perse let herself chuckle at that. “Ok, ok, fine! Now give me the note and my headphones!”

Ortho giggled and quickly put the headphones on her head, grabbing the note he found with the pomegranate flower soon after. Perse got the note and unfolded it, only to loudly groan at it.

“What? What is it, big sis?”

“Nothing. Just whoever this is being an utter idiot.”

Perse threw the note in the air, seemingly not caring about it anymore and going back to her game. Her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as her movements with the mouse and keyboard were fast and stronger than necessary, indicating a bit of anger.

Ortho grabbed the note mid air, and not being able to resist he unfolded the piece of paper, blinking in confusion at what was written:

‘Sorry. You're the smartest person I know.’

•••

“Uh… Persie?” Cater calls his best friend, making her stop at the middle of the hallway to see a drone carrying a bouquet of, you guessed it, pomegranate flowers. The drone came just close enough to let go of the bouquet, quickly falling right into Perse's arms as she looked at it in shock. She saw a note just like last time falling with the flowers, and she quickly grabbed it. Cater whistled at that, impressed. “Dang, whoever this dude is, he's going above and beyond to get your attention, Persie. I’d given him a shot if I were you.

“Yeah, and end up with someone petty and dishonest?” She mumbled, rolling her eyes, but Cater was able to hear it and he lifted an eyebrow at that.

“Come on, he’s probably not like that!”

“...yes he is.” She frowns, giving Cater the bouquet and the note. “Stay with it, I'm not interested. You can throw them away, I don't care.”

The girl left and even when Cater called to her she didn't look back, he looked at the bouquet and the note without knowing what to do. He glanced at the note and wondered if he should read it… I mean… Perse did say she wasn't interested…

Cater couldn't handle his curiosity and unfolded the note, reading quickly what was inside. He tilted his head in confusion not only because of the contest but because of the writing. He was sure he had seen it somewhere…

The red head looked at the drone who still stood there, as if it had been heartbroken by the scene that unfolded. Cater gave the object the bouquet back and put the note in between the flowers. “Sorry lil’ buddy. Better luck next time.”

And Cater left, and soon after the drone did too, but towards a different direction: towards Ignihyde dorm.

As Perse finally got back to her room after her club activities with Vil and Ortho, she saw the same bouquet of flowers in front of her door, the note right in the middle of it. The tan girl heavily sighed, and picked the note, unfolding it to read what it had to say this time.

‘The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.’

Perse looked at the flowers and back to the note, sighing once again in defeat. She got the bouquet and brought it back inside, putting it in a vase she had laying around and leaving the note right beside it. Perse softly let her fingers caress the petals of each flower, a now determined look on her face.

•••

“So…” Ortho trailed off as he waited for his brother to begin his updates. “When were you gonna tell me you were big sis’s secret admirer?”

Idia nearly fell when he heard the younger boy’s question. The ends of his fiery hair turned pink in an instant as his face followed suit, and he held his tablet closer to his chest as if to protect himself.

“B-big sis? A-admirer??” He repeated, still not believing what his ears heard. “Sheesh, Ortho, no! I–I could never. That's extremely cringe. I mean in general I–I couldn't but– especially because it's… because it's Perse…” he felt his face burning up and he knew his hair was way pinker now. Ugh. Why. Why did feelings exist?

“Big bro, please, I recognized your writing on one of her notes.” Ortho stated. “You don't need to lie to me, you know? I know you’ve been in love with her ever since you were young.”

“I’m not-” Idia frowned in embarrassment. “I'm- I’m not in love with her! I-I mean she's beautiful- I mean, she's attractive- I mean, objectively speaking she's attractive you know like if you put a gun to my head and asked ‘hey is Perse Achillea attractive?’ I'd say yes of course she is because if I didn't I'd be lying but she's not only attractive I mean she's also incredibly smart and funny and fun to be around and she knows all the games I play and listens to me ramble for hours even though she probably does this out of pity you know but anyway I feel like I'm talking a lot am I talking a lot?”

“Yes. Yes, you are.” the younger one wasn't surprised in the slightest. That's his brother for ya. “Why are you taking the initiative now?”

“I'm not- I'm not taking the initiative, I'm not trying to flirt with her, I would never.” Idia mumbled, looking elsewhere with a pout. “We… We had a fight. A big one. I still think she was the one in the wrong-” lies. He was totally in the wrong. “-but regardless I… maybe I was a bit too harsh on her… I just want to apologize and she loves pomegranate flowers so…”

“You're gifting her her favorite flowers to apologize?”

“Yeah… but she seems to be avoiding me more now that I’m sending them…” he sighed. “She probably thinks it's gross.”

“No. She thinks you're a coward.”

“Ortho!”

“I said that's what she thinks.”

“It is what I think.” Both brothers jumped at the sudden female voice that popped out of the blue. There, walking towards them, wearing her uniform and all was the subject of their conversation. Perse made her way to Idia as he started internally panicking. "So, you've got something ya wanna tell me?" She crossed her arms as Idia looked at Ortho, mentally asking for help, but unfortunately for him the little boy was on Perse's side now, so he just shrugged.

"Well... You shouldn't be eavesdropping on someone else's conversation."

"Idia for sevens's sake." Perse frowned, getting even closer to him, cornering the taller one between her and a table. "What do you have to tell me?"

He stayed silent, his eyes drifted elsewhere, not being able to hold her gaze. He held his tablet with more strength now, as if that somehow would make this situation go by quicker. Perse sighed.

"Of course you don't. I was stupid for even thinking you did." She turned around, meaning to go back to her room thinking she had decided to meet him for nothing, but before she could, Idia suddenly felt the courage — after being pinched by his brother — to say something.

"Wait." She stopped, still not facing him. Idia clicked his tongue. "I didn't mean to- I didn't- I'm sorry." She turned, crossing her arms. She wasn't satisfied, she needed more. Idia groaned but complied. "I'm sorry for not listening to you when you clearly warned me about our research. I'm sorry for being petty and for lying that I would do as you asked but in the end I didn't. And I'm sorry that our progress was ruined because of that."

Perse stared at him for a few seconds, then smiled. Still, she wanted to hear one more thing, and she made it known with the movement of her head. Idia went pink.

"And... I need you." She blinked, and Ortho put his metallic hand on where his mouth should be. Idia looked at the two quickly realizing how he sounded and fixing it right after: "to help me!! That's what I meant by it!"

Perse giggled at that, having fun at his expense. "Well, you did give me flowers. One could think you had other intentions..." She said in a flirtatious tone, and Idia quickly turned around towards his brother, desperately needing this conversation to be over.

“A-anyways! Ortho, come on, let me update you.”

“Oh, uh- sure.” Ortho said, flying towards his brother and giving one last look towards Perse who still stood there, amused by all this. The girl decided to go back to her room though, after all, she had already gotten what she wished for.

As she finally got there, she noticed right in front of her door a small vase with yet another pomegranate flower. She took the vase and examined it as she got inside the room. It had a purple bow around it, no note in sight, but she knew all too well who had sent it to her. Must’ve sent it earlier that day, huh…

Perse giggled as she smelled the flower, in awe at its beautiful vibrant color. “I can't believe he remembered. After all those years he still knows my favorite flower?” She smiled softly at the plant, running her fingers through its petals. Upon realizing what she was doing however, her smile dropped, sighing heavily, disappointed with herself. “You’d think I'd be over him by now.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland idia #twst idia #oc x canon #oc x idia #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #💌! perse

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addictedtostorytelling · 2 months ago

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Greetings! You can call me the cheesy anonymous, after watching too many romantic movies today I have a question about GSR, do you think that if Sara had taken the leave of absence Grissom would eventually go after her, or do you think that Sara would simply end up married to someone else? Eugene Onegin style (I don't know if you know the book or the movie but I recommend both lol)

hi cheesy anon!

i love pushkin!

so my short answers to your questions are: a) i think grissom's willingness to go after sara if she left town would depend on whether or not he had reason to believe she, despite her hurt feelings, still ultimately wanted him in her life or not, and, b) i don't think sara would be likely to marry anyone besides grissom, even if she did leave town and he never chased after her.

my much longer (and more rambling) answers are after the "keep reading," if you're interested.

so the thing about sara’s request for the leave of absence in episode 02x15 “burden of proof” is it 1000% blindsides grissom.

ever since sara’s move to vegas, he has been under the impression they are on the same page regarding the reality of their situation—namely, he believes they both understand that for as long as he is her boss and she his subordinate, the feelings they both have for each other by necessity must go on the backburner, the consolation being they still get to work together and enjoy each other’s company professionally, even though they cannot share a private life outside of the lab.

because he believes they are both similarly resigned to (and even somewhat contented with) their status quo, until sara’s request shows up on his desk, grissom has no idea she is even contemplating leaving las vegas. then, even once he receives her request, until she comes into his office to talk with him, he has no notion of what might have caused her to want to leave.

the twin revelations she makes to him—i.e., she wants to leave and the reason why she feels the need to is because of him—deliver double blows to grissom’s entire understanding of his world.

not only is sara unhappy in vegas, but she is specifically unhappy because of him!

he had no clue.

as i talk about here,

[during the early seasons of the show, despite his desire to be with her in a more traditional way,] grissom contents himself with only having sara’s company at work and even treating their professional relationship like a quasi-dating situation while otherwise keeping her at arm’s length. sara is, essentially, his work girlfriend, and that arrangement works for him. he can flirt with her when he likes (as long as things don’t get too personal); he can occasionally walk arm-in-arm with her around their crime scenes; they can trade trivia and jokes; he can pay attention to her and make her smile; she can emotionally support him and calm him down when he’s upset (see episodes 01x19 “gentle, gentle” and 02x05 “scuba doobie-doo”); he can show her off to his superiors (see episode 03x02 “the accused is entitled”); they can share weirdly intimate moments (see episode 01x10 “sex, lies, & larvae”); etc.; etc. really, they can do everything short of going home together. but whenever things get too intense, he can also shut their interactions down at a moment’s notice. he can maintain his space, go off by himself, even turn his attentions—fleetingly and superficially—to other women, like teri miller (see here). nothing he’s willing to do with sara endangers his career. they toe that line between coworkers and significant others, and they keep everything relatively clean that way. furthermore, he’s able to (to some extent) “have her” without fear he will lose her. if he never lets her get too close to him, she won’t see his flaws, and she won’t reject him; she’ll stay with him, almost happily, forever. sure, in his heart of hearts, grissom very much yearns to extend his and sara’s relationship to all spheres of his life (see his original scripted monologue from episode 04x12 “butterflied”), and, certainly, on a subconscious level, he realizes he is dissatisfied with the status quo between himself and sara, particularly when she dates hank peddigrew during s2 and s3. in a better world, in a better life, where grissom could be sure sara would love him forever and he could know he was actually good enough for her, he would want to be the man she came home to after shift. he would want them to share everything. to be everything for each other. but in this world, their arrangement mostly works for him. it mostly meets his needs. —and, because it does, he remains generally oblivious to the fact that things aren’t working out this way for sara… [before sara puts in her request for a leave of absence,] grissom thinks he and sara have a fine thing going on, but, apparently, she is unhappy. this realization affronts grissom and also heightens his insecurities. it never occurred to him sara might actively search out something more than what he was offering her; the fact she has scares him, because it means there is a possibility he might lose her.

—which is an assumption he’s not at all wrong in making.

as i talk about here, sara’s request for the leave of absence has little to actually do with her wanting to pursue other career opportunities, and it also is never intended to be a temporary thing, even for all her hedging to grissom about “six months” or “a year”:

honestly, when sara puts in the request for the leave of absence, it isn’t even really that she wants to work for the fbi*; it’s that she is upset by the current state of her and grissom’s relationship. * maybe at some point before she started working for the lvpd, she might have been interested in perhaps working in the federal system. but afterward, not really. she’s just saying that she is because she doesn’t know what else to do re: her impasse with grissom. she moved to vegas with the expectation they would be a couple, but after a year and a half living there and working under him, not only are they not in a romantic relationship but he is acting more aloof from her than ever. as i talk about here, for him, the hamburger is just hamburger, but for her, it’s more. he’s looking at their conflict, thinking, “okay, so i’m working on an experiment involving raw hamburger, and sara comes in when i’m already mostly done with it. i don’t have time to slow down because the case is hot, so i ask her to handle the clean-up so i can move on to the next thing, which is something 100% within my purview to do, as i am her supervisor, and she’s my subordinate. she gets upset about the assignment i’ve given her because it disagrees with her personal sensibilities, which—okay, whatever. i don’t really get it, because to me science is science, but not touching raw meat if she doesn’t want to is her prerogative, i guess, so i tell her she can have nick deal with the clean-up instead. to me, that’s the long and short of the matter, but to her, it must not be, because the next thing i know, she’s putting in a request for a leave of absence, accusing me of not respecting her. did the hamburger really offend her that badly? i don’t understand why she’s so upset.” meanwhile, she’s looking at it, thinking, “i moved to las vegas believing when i got here, grissom and i would be a couple. obviously, things haven’t panned out that way, though. since i’m a big girl, i’ve tried to deal with the disappointment—to play by grissom’s rules and respect his boundaries, holding out hope maybe someday he’ll change his mind, yes, but not pushing him into anything or giving voice to my heartache. i get why he has trepidations, of course. i get what’s at stake for him. and that’s why i don’t lobby for more than he’s willing to give. i feel like so far i’ve been pretty good about adapting to the reality of our situation. still. that’s not to say it doesn’t hurt when he’s callous with me—when he treats me like there was never anything between us, even though we both know that’s not true. for a year and a half now, i’ve stood by, making the best of his mood swings. some days, he treats me like i annoy the hell out of him, to the point where i wonder why he even keeps me on the team. but other days, he’s back to being prince charming, giving me all sorts of reasons to hope. honestly, the whole runaround is exhausting, and i wish he would come down one way or the other all of the time. this raw hamburger debacle is just the latest and worst in a string of slaps in the face from him. we shared that night watching over the pig carcass together last year, and i thought it was a big deal, that it meant something to both of us. but now he can’t even be assed to remember it, and he can’t be assed to even respect me as a person. i memorize and analyze and overanalyze and pore over every little exchange that passes between us. i live and die by how he treats me, weathering the bad days, living for the good. but obviously that’s not how things are for him. obviously, i’m not that important in his eyes. it’s probably time for me to recognize that discrepancy. i can’t keep waiting around for him to figure things out. i’ve got to do something to clear my head and get over him once and for all.”

so.

she originally claims she wants to get away for six months or a year, but, honestly, she only says so in the hopes of avoiding a confrontation.

the real truth comes out when grissom confronts her anyhow, pushing back against her stated reasons for her request. backed up into the proverbial corner, she reveals she isn’t actually leaving to pursue federal employment; she’s trying to run away from him because being in his presence is just too painful for her to handle anymore. eventually, she lets slip: it doesn’t matter if he either lets her go or doesn’t; she will leave either with his permission or without, and once she does so she has no intention of coming back.

she's trying to make a clean break here—which is exactly what she cannot do so long as she is “trapped in grissom’s gravity” in vegas.

for almost two years now, he’s refused to make a clear-cut decision on them, so she’s making it for him.

of course, the difficulty with this conversation—and, indeed, with all gsr communication pre-s5—is grissom and sara aren’t fully at liberty to come out and say exactly what they mean, on a practical level because they’re at work and can’t risk being overheard and on a personal one because they both fear giving voice to their deepest feelings, lest they be rejected.

instead, they have to hedge around the issue, avoiding any talk of their pre-vegas relationship (in whatever form it may have taken), their mutual feelings, their hopes and their fears regarding each other, etc., couching their every exchange in professional language. they cannot call a spade a spade—or in this case, a romantic connection a romantic connection. though they’re talking about deeply personal issues, they can’t directly refer to just how personal they are.

the number one rule is they can’t say the l-word.

even though sara is essentially trying to tell grissom his capricious behavior with her is tying her heart up in knots, she can’t use those exact words or even any words adjacent to them. rather, she is left to stammer and hem about how she needs a work environment with communication and respect and remind grissom (obliquely) the problem “isn’t just about [her].”

and in the wake of her revelation, grissom can’t beg her to stay because he needs her; instead, he is forced to substitute the safer but less emotionally honest “the lab.”

so without sara being able to come out and say directly how she feels grissom has been jerking her around by the heart for the last year and half, all she can do is vaguely gesture to her confusion and upset and hope grissom understands.

and he does, to some extent—obviously enough to later see the sense in catherine’s advice and send out the olive branch green plant.

but that’s not necessarily to say he understands the full nuance of sara’s feelings.

how could he, when she isn’t able to articulate them?

while he gets the gist, there is likely a lot still lost on him—especially because he is only now for the first time realizing what an untenable position he has put her in and how miserable she is.

all of the above so, i tend to believe in any situation where sara were to ask for a leave of absence, grissom, in his shock at her request, would try to ascertain her motivations for seeking such a leave.

and if he did so, she would always end up leveling the same (veiled) accusations at him she does in the canon episode—admitting she feels disrespected by him, the problem isn’t just some one-off thing but rather is indicative of a larger pattern of behavior over time, she needs to get away from him, etc.

as in canon, grissom would always be blindsided by these revelations and not know how to respond to sara in the moment, and she would always storm off, issuing her “either grant me the leave or i'll quit” ultimatum.

at that point, grissom would always understand he was in danger not just of losing her to the fbi for six months to a year but of losing her to his own romantic ineptitude forever.

in the canonical episode, within hours of his and sara’s confrontation in his office, catherine drunkenly nudges grissom into figuring out a way to show sara he cares. right away, he gifts sara the green plant, thereby proving to her he does pay attention to her and have feelings for her beyond just their working relationship. the gesture flies with her. she opts to remain at the lab. grissom then spends the rest of s2 doting on her (albeit still solely at work).

seriously, the tail end of s2 is like a full gsr romcom.

however, even if catherine hadn’t intervened, i still think grissom would’ve realized what hot water he was in and would have tried—however clumsily—to “win sara back,” if he could.

maybe he wouldn’t have sent her a green plant, but he would have tried to do something to convince her not to go.

i don’t think he would have full-on confessed his feelings to her—because at that point, he wasn’t ready to face the consequences for them, either professionally or personally—but he would have done something to show her he was not indifferent to her or their relationship, and in so doing, he would have continued what is a very common pattern of behavior for him during the early seasons of the show.

as i talk about here:

we see a situation during s1 and s2 where grissom perpetuates a kind of cycle with sara, over and over again:

1. first he gets close to her (because that’s what his heart and his instincts are telling him to do). 2. then once he becomes cognizant of how close he actually is to her—which is something that tends to happen when sara makes some kind of move or gesture in acknowledgment of and/or response to their closeness—he panics, realizing that he is coming up against a line he dares not cross. 3. at that point, he retracts from sara emotionally/socially, trying desperately to reassert professional boundaries between them. 4. however, seldom does he manage to do so gracefully, and so he typically ends up hurting her feelings in the process. 5. of course, since he’s still in love with her, once he realizes he’s hurt her feelings, he can’t stand to leave things that way, so then he attempts to make amends, acting very sweet and attentive to her to cheer her up and win back her affections. 6. from that point, one thing leads to another, and pretty soon, he’s getting close to her again (because that’s what his heart and his instincts tell him is right). 7. the cycle then repeats again from there.

now, whether or not sara would have ultimately forgiven grissom and chosen to remain in vegas due to whatever gesture he made toward her (see step #5 of the pattern) would largely depend on whatever that gesture were and how genuine she felt he was in making it.

in canon, the green plant gesture does the trick, not only because of what it signifies (i.e., grissom does actually pay close attention to her and her needs, despite occasional appearances to the contrary) but also because it is made so promptly, before sara can actually pack up her apartment and move to virginia.

so let’s say in this au grissom doesn’t send sara a plant just hours after she puts in her request but instead does something somewhat less demonstrative somewhat later.

maybe in such a case, a weaker gesture so late in coming might not soothe sara’s hurt feelings.

maybe then she might still feel the need to leave.

grissom would then be posed with a not-actually-a-choice choice, per sara’s ultimatum: to either grant her leave request, knowing despite its trappings of temporariness, it would nevertheless be a permanent development; or to have her flat-out quit, admitting the permanency of the situation from the get-go.

and, of course, for as socially obtuse as grissom may sometimes be, i don’t think the bottom line of the situation would be lost on him.

even without fully understanding all of the ins and outs of sara’s upset, he could infer well enough her leaving was never actually about pursuing other career opportunities; it was always about getting away from him.

now.

eventually, from the end of s4 to mid-s5, grissom finds himself facing a similar “either prove to sara you love her once and for all or risk losing her forever” type of situation—which begins when he recognizes her downward spiral during the events of episode 04x23 “bloodlines” and comes to a head in episode 05x13 “nesting dolls,” when he comes under pressure to fire her due to her insubordinate workplace behavior—and, in that case, he is able to finally summon his courage, make the grand gesture, and, in sara’s own words, “just be there for [her].”

so the question then becomes: could he do the same thing three seasons earlier, during the events of episode 02x15 “burden of proof,” were he faced with the prospect of sara leaving vegas permanently?

i mean, his love for her is the same in both circumstances, right?

however, one variable which differs considerably is his level of confidence in sara’s desire to have him.

in s5, the grissom who shows up at sara’s apartment, wearing his heart on his sleeve, ready to take on ecklie and catherine for her sake, in episode 05x13 “nesting dolls” is also a grissom who, one month earlier in show time, has sara more or less tell him (in so many words) she is still in love with him and open to a relationship with him in episode 05x12 “snakes.”

and the same is not true of the grissom in episode 02x15 “burden of proof.”

that grissom is one who has just had the love of his life confront him with accusations of poor communication and disrespect, to the point where she wants to move across the country to get away from him.

her words echo many of his deepest fears concerning himself: i.e., he is “insufficiently human,” harmful to the people he cares about due to his social ineptitudes, innately selfish, etc.

that so, i tend to think, in this situation, unlike in s5, grissom might be more inclined to just let sara go—not because he wanted to but because he felt he didn’t have the right to try to stop her.

while he might not have a full view of what exactly he had done to hurt her, he can sense he has hurt her—and because he can, he would be disposed to believe sara probably wants nothing to do with him going forward.

she's come into his office and told him she feels he has mistreated her and she needs to get away from him.

and his inclination in the absence of reassurance from her to the contrary would be to take her at her word—to let her go, because that’s obviously what she wants from him at this point (after he’s so wounded her), right?

of course, the irony is, sara doesn’t actually want to leave and never see grissom again.

what she would prefer is he simply change his behavior and embrace his love for her, becoming transparent in his feelings. she's only “running away” because she believes that possibility is off the table.

we can deduce as much from the fact that, in canon, the second grissom does something to prove he actually cares for her (i.e., sends her the green plant), she stops trying to leave vegas immediately—and, in fact, her leave of absence never gets mentioned again.

all she truly needs from grissom in order to feel secure is some sign from him that she’s not just imagining his feelings for her.

—it’s just in s2, in a situation where grissom would feel fairly certain he had already ruined everything with sara by disrespecting her and failing to communicate with her at work, i think grissom would be disinclined to call her bluff, again, not because he wanted to see her go, but because he was too scared to chase after her, fearing she would reject him.

in episode 05x13 “nesting dolls,” he is able to do the brave thing both because his care for sara’s needs supersedes his fears AND because he feels confident she does actually want him to pursue her (despite their to that point tumultuous history).

in mid-s2, the same might not be true.

so.

in all likelihood, if things got to the point where whatever initial gesture he had made had failed to pacify her and she really was ready to leave town, without some intervention—like drunken catherine telling him to get off his ass and do something, a la canon—grissom might just let sara quit after all.

and if he did?

it would probably take some kind of act of god to make him go to her after she left town—again, not because he wouldn’t miss her desperately, be heartbroken over his loss of her, want to be with her, etc., but because he would feel unwanted.

he would reason, “well, she wanted to leave and she left. she told me she didn’t want to be around me anymore. who am i to impose on her? she’s trying to make a clean break, and the least i can do is let her do so, given the way i've so obviously mistreated her.”

the only way he might wise up and change his mind is if something happened to make him realize sara did still want him after all—like with the classic romcom fourth act trope, he found some proof of her lingering feelings for him, which incontrovertibly established she had only ever skipped town because she felt rejected by him, not because she had been rejecting him herself.

think sara watching the exit interview tape at the end of “immortality,” but reversed.

then he might get on a plane.

then he might make the grand gesture.

and at that point, it would have to be grand—not just a green plant but an invitation to finally live “the beautiful life” they both had always dreamed of, to return to vegas not just as his employee but as his girlfriend.

now.

as for the second half of your question, with regards to sara, i don’t think she would likely be married to someone else, no matter how long it had been since she and grissom had parted ways.

to my mind, the only person sara sidle would ever even consider marrying is gil grissom.

otherwise, given her family history and views on the transactive nature of weddings, i don’t think she would ever be open to tying the knot with anyone else.

he is the one exception to what is otherwise a hard rule for her.

and once her "experiment" of opening her heart to him and considering a marital commitment had, in her eyes, failed, she would be disinclined to ever try again with someone else; not when making herself vulnerable that way had so badly backfired on her before.

that said, if enough time had passed since she had left vegas before grissom wised up and went after her, she could theoretically be in a relationship (and even a long-term one) with someone else.

i mean, after all, she does canonically date hank peddigrew—for over a year!—in an effort to get over grissom, so it stands to reason she might do the same in a scenario where she had moved away from vegas expressly to romantically “start anew.”

if she did end up with the fbi, maybe she might meet some nice hunky agent and hit it off with him.

and maybe if he were uninquisitive regarding her past—more on that point below—she might even stay with him for a long while.

even so.

i don’t think it’d be the kind of deal where she’d be at all torn about dumping her boyfriend to go back to nevada with grissom when and if he turned up, just given the way she tends to operate.

see, the thing about sara is she has intimacy issues of her own. prior to her confession to grissom in episode 05x13 “nesting dolls,” she has literally never told anyone about her family history, and she never really intends to. the fact that she doesn’t—and, moreover, won’t even discuss anything even remotely adjacent to her family history at all, including anything to do with the first 18+ years of her life—makes for some ~weirdness~ in her romantic relationships.

as i talk about here,

outside of with grissom, sara tends to form shallow—mostly physical—relationships with good-looking guys to whom she does not very deeply relate, either on an intellectual level or a personal one. her mo seems to be “find somebody who’s pretty to look at and not altogether intolerable. stay with him until he disappoints you, and then move on. wash, rinse, repeat.” one might look at this pattern and say that sara simply has poor relationship skills (or, as warrick quips in episode 07x17 “fallen idols,” bad taste in men), but while that observation isn’t untrue, i think there’s more to the issue than perhaps first meets the eye. in episode 05x13 “nesting dolls,” sara mentions that she tends to “choose men who are emotionally unavailable”—and my thought is that she does so in order to protect herself from having to be vulnerable with them, and specifically so she won’t have to talk about her past... not just with hank, but with her college boyfriend, doug wilson, and taylor wynard, as well, sara chooses men who are emotionally unavailable as a safeguard against having to become emotionally intimate and/or disclose her past. she so fears anyone who were to learn the truth about her childhood and family history would reject and think badly of her she preemptively prevents this from happening by choosing to partner with men who are only too happy to keep their relationships with her at the surface level and based mostly on sex. grissom is where sara deviates from this pattern—first of all, in that her relationship with him, for a long time, isn’t sexual and yet is almost weirdly emotionally intimate, even without the sex; secondly, in that she eventually comes to trust grissom enough she is willing to disclose to him and tell him all of her secrets in a way she never has with anyone else, even at a time before they are technically dating, when their relationship is still nebulous.

because outside of her relationship with grissom, sara tends to purposefully initiate romantic relationships which are inherently shallow and remains purposefully evasive with her romantic partners regarding her past, i tend to think it would be difficult for her to form a serious relationship of the kind she would be reluctant to part ways from, were grissom to suddenly become a viable romantic option for her.

she might be dating a guy she liked when grissom came to town.

but loved? doubtful.

and loved enough to choose over grissom? no way.

grissom is really the only person she ever feels compelled to tell her full life story to—and she only does so with him because they have such an instantaneous, soul-deep connection; i.e., because she falls in love with him so immediately and completely she feels compelled to break what are otherwise some very unbreakable rules for her.

just as sara is the one person who could ever motivate grissom to deviate from his comfortable patterns, placing his career and his heart on the line, grissom is the one person who could ever motivate sara to tell the truth about her past.

he's really her only exception.

her one in seven billion.

so the likelihood she would ever even consider staying with mr. virginia would just be incredibly low—not if gil grissom turned up at her door, apologizing for his past missteps and demonstrating he was really, truly ready to be with her in the way she had always dreamt of.

now.

if grissom never wised up and came looking for her, could she in theory stay with mr. virginia—or whatever state she ended up settling in—in the long term, even if she might not marry him?

honestly, it would depend on how much space he gave her within their relationship.

if he was content never to know any biographical details about her prior to when she was college-age and never pushed to meet her parents or got curious about some of her particular personality quirks (like why she gets so cagey after working domestic violence cases, say), then she could probably stay with him contented-ishly for quite some time, settling because why the hell not? as long as the sex was good and he wasn’t an ass, he’d be better than nothing, right? even if he weren’t grissom.

true, she would never likely love him, and she would have no intention to ever open up to him of her own volition. but she could make do for a long time, insofar as he made no attempts to “break down her walls” or catch glimpse of all those parts of her she would prefer to keep secret.

of course, few people—aside from manipulators like hank peddigrew—are willing to remain in long-term relationships with people they know next to nothing about, and especially not with the relationship itself remaining largely superficial, based more on sex and shared activities than actual emotional connections.

most booty calls (even glorified ones) come with expiration dates.

as grissom and sara themselves discuss in episode 09x02 “the happy place,” relationships in stasis wither.

at some point, there has to be forward motion.

so most likely, at some point, this boyfriend would start asking sara to tell him more about how she grew up or would push her to take him “home” to meet mom and dad or would realize how seriously traumatized she was and would want to know by what.

and, like i said, i just tend to think sara would only ever be disposed to unveil herself to someone she was already in love with.

and in a world where she had already met grissom, loved grissom, and lost him, well—

even in his absence, i don’t know she would ever have it in her to fall in love with anyone else again, no matter how nice the guy were or how genuine his feelings for her.

hell, i don't even think she would ever actually get over grissom; she would still be in love with him, even given how he had broken her heart.

so if her boyfriend tried to get her to talk, she’d probably break up with him or else do something to sabotage the relationship.

and that would be the end of things.

she might then move on to someone else.

but the same pattern would play out again and again; her refusal to share the intimate details of herself would limit the viability of her long-term romantic relationships.

so ultimately if grissom never came looking for her, i think she’d end up alone.

of course, the good news is, i tend to think the likelihood of things ever getting to this point—of grissom “allowing” sara to leave vegas and then never going after her—is incredibly low.

once he realized sara’s seriousness about leaving (and her reasons for wanting to do so), grissom was always going to at least make an attempt to keep her from leaving.

and just like in canon with the green plant, i think if he could just find it in himself to show care for her (even without an admission of love or entry into a committed relationship), he could earn her forgiveness and convince her to stay.

because that’s the thing: ultimately, sara never wants to leave.

she wants a reason to stay.

and all he has to do is give one to her.

anyway.

i'm rambling now.

i hope i at least somewhat answered your question.

please feel welcome to send another one any time!

#answered #anon #asks: csi #**#my meta #meta: csi #meta: gsr #hypothetical scenario #02x15 #csiverse #let's talk shop

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ryuichirou · 9 months ago

Text

Replies

Continuing some of the previous conversations + talking about random stuff…

Anonymous asked:

I meant by the new prison warden info since you mentioned you been thinking over.

Ohh, I see! Sorry for misunderstanding, Anon.

No, unfortunately we don’t really have anything new to share for now :( That being said, whenever we get asked about the AU, we kind of come up with a lot of new stuff on the spot lol so if you’re interested in any particular character, feel free to ask.

artfulhero-m asked:

Ryu that office worker Lilia art got me feeling like I'm at work cause as someone who works in an office herself with coworkers who are decades older than her (I'm in my 20s) I cannot express how extremely common the scaring prank is between my coworkers, at least once a week I'm hearing someone yell "BOO!" and hearing in response either a scream or complete silence followed by laughter.

Based off of real events, you got me thinking about Lilia leaving some kind of noise machine underneath other's desks playing fart sounds when the office reaches rare moments of quiet in the day. That fart machine will circulate around the office for a few days.

I am so happy to hear that you have no idea!! I’m very glad we came up with something that has this very specific office vibe lol As someone who has 0 experience with the office environment, I had no idea this type of behaviour was common in any way. I hope these interactions are mostly positive though and not annoying lol

Lilia ABSOLUTELY leaves all kinds of noise machines and whoopee cushions around, you can also never shake hands with him because he has that ring that shocks you, all kinds of classic pranks he’ll absolutely do. And as time goes, they’ll get more and more elaborate.

And if Lilia gets closer to Idia in any way shape of form, it’s over for everyone, because if they join forces… With Idia’s genius mind and skills, he could enhance that noise machine in a way that’ll make the whole office shudder…

Anonymous asked:

Oh, I sent the cursed asks about what Lilia bullied Idia into telling and Lilia’s past crimes. Those were what I was apologizing for XD

So those were yours!! Good to know. I liked these asks though lol

Anonymous asked:

After reading about General Lilia’s sordid past, the song Weedkiller by Ashnikko reminds me of him. Just….major psychotic, unhinged, creature vibes.

Psychotic unhinged creature is such a good way to describe this particular version of Lilia, and I feel like this song could fit perfectly into his personal mixtape! Along with a bunch of death metal songs, so the sound is going to be quite contrasting lol

Anonymous asked:

Do you have any designs for Ace's brother? I've always thought of his brother as Jack Hearts from Disney recruiters if you don't, but I've slapped so much angst onto those boys it's hard to imagine they wouldn't want to "support" each other whenever Ace comes home for the holidays.

Well… it’s kind of awkward, because our view of Ace’s brother is closer to Eddy’s brother from Ed Edd n Eddy lol Ace used to think that his older brother is cool and maybe even idolised him a little when he was a kid, but then got disillusioned and annoyed as he grew older. They bicker a lot because they’re siblings + both of them are kind of mean and quick to throw each other under the bus. His brother isn’t necessarily malicious (although scenarios in which he is a complete jerk could be super fun too), but they often have heated arguments + there is this sense of “I’m older, therefore I win” between them.

Sooo… while this design isn’t something that we’re 100% sure about (if I ever draw him again, he might look COMPLETELY different, so keep that in mind lol), but the overall vibe is kind of like this. A jerk that kind of looks like a slightly older Ace.

That being said, Ace’s brother being supportive of Ace and overcoming complicated stuff is a sweet idea, Anon! I really wonder what their actual relationships are like…

Anonymous asked:

Ohhh, you would LOVE Criminal Minds. Serial murderers, mind games, sympathetic backstories, cursed people doing cursed things, it’s a beautiful, terrible show. ☺️

I can’t believe this is my first time hearing about this show considering the fact that it’s rather old?? But thank you for recommendation, Anon! <3

We very rarely watch live action series, but anything that is described as both beautiful and terrible (and cursed!) is always intriguing.

#replies #ryuichirouart

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spencermyangel · 2 years ago

Note

fic request: Spencer encounts some small problem in the bullpen, which apparently someone noticed because an anonymous coworker leaves a little gift on his desk that would help solve/prevent/avoid that problem in the future. Spencer deserves happiness (and so do you!)

Thank you 💕😊💕

Agent Ryerson leaned back in his chair and observed the newest member of Aaron Hotchner’s team. Spencer Reid, the young genius that Jason Gideon had accepted to the FBI and specially placed in the BAU. Ryerson couldn’t imagine being that successful that young. He, himself was in his mid fifties and had been working at the FBI since his mid twenties. He had never really moved up into a senior position, but he was fine with that. He was happy with his life, his eyes darted to a framed photo of his two teenage sons as he smiled.

Ryerson resumed watching Spencer, a small frown appeared on his face as the young man started to once again chew on the end of his pencil as he rapidly read through a case file. This was something Ryerson had noticed before. He glanced towards the pencil holder on Spencer’s desk that was filled with pencils that had been chewed at the end.

Ryerson shook his head in slight amusement before resuming his own paperwork. But he was soon brought out of it when he heard a slight wince. He looked up to see Spencer holding his lip, it was obvious to Ryerson what had happened. Spencer had cut his lip on the metal at the end of his pencil. Suddenly another one of Spencer’s problems made sense to Ryerson, how his lips often had scabs on them.

Ryerson hadn’t really considered Spencer’s habit a problem before, but now that he knew it was actually hurting him, he did. For the rest of the day he couldn’t stop thinking about how to help Spencer with this problem, and on the way home he finally thought of one.

“Dylan?” Ryerson knocked on his eldest son’s room.

“Yeah, Dad?” Dylan responded from where he was, playing some sort of video game on his bed.

“What’s that thing Cody puts on his pencils? That he chews?” he asked. Cody was Dylan’s best friend and he had autism, so he had a few stim toys and chews he used.

Dylan glanced up, “um, there these chewy pencil covers, he gets them from an online store. Why?”

“No reason. Thanks, Dylan.”

“Hey, Dad,” Dylan’s voice caused Ryerson to turn back around, “speaking of Cody, is it okay if I invite him over to practice some basketball? We’re hoping to win this year.”

“Sure, after you clean up your room.” Ryerson eyed the floor meaningfully, where a few pieces of laundry, paper, and books were laid.

Dylan groaned, “fine…”

Ryerson chuckled as he walked over to his computer, powering it up. It didn’t take long for him to find the chewable pencil covers and when he did he quickly ordered them.

A week later, when the pencil covers arrived he wrapped them up, before placing them on Spencer’s desk with a little note. ‘Thought you could use these.’

Ryerson hoped this would be less embarrassing for Spencer than him handing them to him or talking to him about it. He also couldn’t let Spencer continue to chew his pencils and hurt himself.

When Spencer walked in, Ryerson discreetly watched as he approached his desk and sat down. He picked up the small package with a look of confusion on his face. He unwrapped it, and Ryerson watched as a slight blush made its way across Spencer’s cheeks. But still, Spencer subtly slipped one on his pencil. Later in the day, Ryerson smiled as he glanced up to see Spencer happily chewing on the covered pencil.

Send in asks and requests here

Masterlist

Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated :)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #autistic spencer reid

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vanacoar · 2 years ago

Text

Talk Is Cheap, Roses Are Beautiful (Part 1 of 2)

Words: 3.8k

Rating: M(ish)

Warnings: Chuuya typical swearing, Some Spiciness at the end but nothing explicit

A/N: this took way too long to write but here we go! The second part will be all the fun smut that didn’t make it into this chapter, so if you’re not one for NSFW content, this chapter is the safer one and can be read on its own.

Summary: Dazai has a game he’d like to play with His favorite executive, and maybe some things he’d like to say too.

************

“So Boring.” Dazai whined as he reclined back against the office couch, hands cupped over a set of large black headphones on either ear, listening to what the rest of his coworkers couldn’t even guess.

“If you’re so bored, Dazai,” Kunikida shouted from across the room at his desk. “Then maybe you should consider actually getting some work done instead of lounging around like a lazy lout!”

Dazai ignored him, favoring more to focus on what he was listening to. As far as anyone was concerned, he was probably listening to music, or something of the sort, but in truth, the sounds berating Dazai’s ear drums right now were far less entertaining than a random radio station. Port Mafia meetings were SO BORING! Dazai didn’t miss them, they dragged on and on through sister factions, supply chains and intel gathering, all things that Dazai didn’t particularly care about.

Then why, you may ask, had Dazai placed a wire tap in the main meeting room of the Port Mafia? Well that was easy, because you see, a certain firey red head was present during this meeting, as was required of all Port Mafia executives, and Dazai may or may not have planned a little surprise for his favorite slug, and he was desperate to hear his reaction.

“And what of the branch in Poland?” Mori’s voice rang through Dazai headphones.

“Production is progressing as planned, sir.” Higuchi responded. “By next week I expect we’ll be ahead of schedule.”

Well that wouldn’t do, Dazai would have to find a reason to schedule a trip to Poland. Priorities for later though, it was about time for his little surprise to show up.

“Very good, and what about—“ Mori’s voice cut off at the sound of a knock at the door, the indicator of fun to come. The sound of the door opening rang through the headphones as foot steps entered the room.

“Sorry for the interruption sir,” An unfamiliar voice squeaked, they must be new. “But I have a delivery for Executive Nakahara.”

Bingo.

“From who?” Chuuya’s voice finally came over the headphones, Dazai was wondering when he’d finally speak.

“I’m unsure, sir. The delivery was anonymous, it requires your signature though.” Dazai recognized the vague sounds of a pen scratching on paper, indicative of Chuuya accepting the delivery. “Very good sir, I’ll bring it right in.”

Three… two… one… Dazai was giddy in his seat.

“The hell is this?!” Chuuya exclaimed, almost loud enough to make Dazai have to pull the headphones from his ears. He struggled to suppress this giggles at chuuya’s response, it was exactly what he was hoping for.

Kouyou’s laughter soon filled the space. “Well, well it seems our little Chuuya has quite the secret admirer.” She said between giggles.

Dazai only wished he’d had a video feed too, oh to see Chuuya’s face at what was surely sitting in front of him right now. A bouquet of roses, the brightest red Dazai could find. Stage one of his game, his masterful plan to get all of his favorite reactions out of his tiny slug.

“My, my, Chuuya, it seems you’ve had quite the effect on someone. Is there a note?” Mori asked, also sounding equally as amused.

Dazai couldn’t risk leaving a note. Knowing Chuuya he’d recognize Dazai’s cadence or handwriting anywhere, and would be able to piece it together that the flowers were from him, and that would end the game far too soon.

Getting Chuuya angry was one thing, it was fun but the effects faded quickly, far too quickly for Dazai’s liking, but get him flustered and that could last hours, not to mention a few ulterior motives Dazai may have had for choosing that specific gift, far more entertaining on a boring Monday morning.

He heard Chuuya sputter out a few incoherent sounds before he finally choked out. “No, nothing, just flowers.” He could imagine the look on Chuuya’s face so well, his cheeks would be the perfect shade of red, probably enough to match the roses, his blue ocean eyes blown out wide. His back would be perfectly straight as he tried to process what was in front of him, possibly his shoulders hiked up to his ears. Dazai regretted not planting a camera.

***********

Hacking into Chuuya’s security system was easy enough, no matter how many times he changed the password, his dog would always be predictable. So it was no problem stalling his security cameras just long enough for Dazai to make his way up to Chuuya’s apartment, just long enough to install a few audio taps, and just long enough to leave another bouquet of flowers, this time an attractive bunch of red camellias.

Dazai sat relaxed in his dorm, headphones pressed tightly to his ears as he waited for the tell tale signs of Chuuya arriving home. With what Dazai pulled the day before, with those roses, he expected Chuuya’a reaction to this gift to be just as good.

He didn’t have to wait long. Soon enough he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door, a heavy sigh indicating a long day at work and probably a desire for bed. The footsteps only got heavier and heavier as Dazai imagined Chuuya finally seeing what lay in front of his entry way.

“What the fuck?” Chuuya sounded exasperated. Dazai could practically see his reaction, confused but intrigued look on his cute face, eyebrows probably pushed together like they always did when he was thinking about something too hard. He heard the sound of Chuuya picking the bouquet up, the crinkle of plastic in his hands. He imagined he was searching for a note, one that once again would not be there. “For fuck’s sake, leave a damned note.”

“But that would ruin the game, mon slug.” Dazai said only to himself. Chuuya would recognize his handwriting immediately, and it was far to early to end the game yet, after all, Dazai was only just beginning, he still had another piece of his plan.

*********

Chuuya was startled at the announcement he had a delivery. A delivery of what? He hadn’t ordered anything, and certainly not anything that would be delivered right in the middle of a meeting.

“From who?” He asked the delivery boy, who nearly trembled when addressing the executive directly.

“I’m unsure, sir,” He choked out. “The delivery was anonymous, it requires your signature though.” the boy’s hands shook as he handed Chuuya a clip board and a pen, which he readily signed his name on before the boy disappeared through the door once again, only to re-emerge with the largest bouquet of red roses Chuuya had ever seen in his life.

“The hell is this?!” He exclaimed as the bouquet was handed to him, his eyes wide at the unexpected gift.

“Well, well, it seems our little Chuuya has quite the secret admirer.” Kouyou teased, to which Chuuya sent her a glare that had she been anyone else, would have shut them up and possibly even encouraged them to leave, but this was Kouyou, and she only giggled harder at his flustered look.

The roses were beautiful, each one perfectly shaped, the brightest red Chuuya had ever seen, the petals were silky and lush, it was clear a lot of care had gone into crafting the bouquet.

“My, my, Chuuya, it seems you’ve had quite the effect on someone. Is there a note?” Chuuya was already searching for a slip of paper, anything to indicate who the flowers were from. Who the hell sends flowers and doesn’t say who they are, doesn’t even attach a little note like “From your secret admirer” or some shit like that. It was just flowers, no note, no indication of the sender, and Chuuya’s face was far too hot for his liking, and it remained that way for the rest of the meeting.

Flowers during the middle of a meeting was one thing, but somehow dodging his security cameras to leave yet another bouquet of flowers at his door was something else entirely. The bouquet of red camellias stared at him from the floor just before his door, like they were laughing at him. They mocked him as he plucked them from their resting place.

“What the fuck?” Chuuya hissed. “At least leave a note or something.” He did like camellias though, they weren’t his favorite flower, but they were beautiful, and the red ones were particularly difficult to get, especially in Japan. Whoever this mystery person was, was really putting in the work, Chuuya was honestly pretty impressed.

********

Chuuya was already expecting the next gift; two bouquets in a row? That ment a third was on its way. However, it had been a week and there had been nothing. He’d spend the better part of the last seven days obsessing over one) who would be brave enough to try and send such a direct message to a Port Mafia executive and two) when was it going to happen next.

Well seven days after the initial bouquet of roses, Chuuya got the answer to one of those questions, and this by far was the most unexpected gift of them all.

He was just starting to lose hope, maybe two was the magic number, and his secret admirer was done, which despite the obvious peace and quiet that would eventually bring, also made Chuuya a little disappointed, the flowers were beautiful and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have a soft spot for them and the effort someone was putting in to get them to him. He was just coming to terms with this new revelation when he walked into his office that morning, coat held by one hand over his shoulder and a tired yawn escaping his lips as he crossed the threshold of his doorway, it was far too early and he’d hardly slept the night before.

However, when he spotted what was so delicately placed on his desk after he walked in, he certainly was awake now. It wasn’t a bouquet, instead it was a single flower, a beautiful vibrant red Tulip, just one, laid delicately across his desk, a matching red bow tied around the stem. Chuuya nearly dropped his jacket at the sight, just staring at the flower for what felt like hours.

Having a bouquet delivered to his work and leaving another bouquet at his door was one thing, but breaking into his office, without being caught on either cameras or by security, in the office building of the most dangerous organization in Yokohama, just to leave one singular flower, that was another thing entirely. It was at that point Chuuya began to have suspicions, maybe this secret admirer wasn’t as secret as he thought.

A plan of his own began to form as Chuuya sat at his desk, twirling the single tulip between his fingers. If this was who he thought it was, and he was pretty certain he was right, then there was certainly an end goal to be reached, a message to be delivered, if only he could communicate through actual words instead of bombarding Chuuya was flowers, not that Chuuya minded them, though he’d never confess that out loud.

Chuuya spent a good hour and a half of that morning researching flowers and their meanings. Dazai wasn’t one to pick a flower just because it was pretty, he never did anything that wasn’t deliberate. Red roses - love and passion, red camellias - romance, and red tulips - lust. Flowers certainly wasn’t the way Chuuya was expecting Dazai to say it, but he had to commend his creativity.

********

Dazai would admit, perhaps the tulip left in Chuuya’s office was a little on the nose, certainly his favorite mafioso would begin to suspect him now, but would he be able to connect the dots behind Dazai’s reasoning? Being familiar with Chuuya’s critical thinking skills, Dazai wasn’t very hopeful. He sighed as he reclined back in his seat, a pile of paperwork still left sitting untouched on his desk.

“Everything okay, Dazai?” Atsushi’s voice broke through Dazai’s thoughts. He turned to look at the boy, who sat beside him, a mildly concerned, mildly curious look on his young face. Dazai gave a small smile.

“Just waiting to see how a plan turned out.”

“What plan?” The boy tiger inquired.

“Getting a message across to someone who’s ability to grasp hints is severely impaired.” At his words there was a knock on the agency’s door, to which Naomi got up to answer.

“I have a delivery for a mister… Dazai Osamu.”

“For me?” Dazai questioned as the delivery boy approached him.

“Yes sir, if you could please sign here.” The boy said before handing Dazai a clipboard and a pen. He signed, the delivery boy taking the clipboard back and exchanging it with a long thin box, sure enough it was addressed to Dazai.

“What is it?” Atsushi asked, leaning over Dazai’s shoulder to peak at the gift.

“Maybe someone’s been kind enough to send a bomb and finally kill me.” Dazai only jested. He saw Atsushi shy away only slightly, but it was clear he had the entire rooms attention. Without another word he popped the seal on the box, tilting the parcel over to slide out a long wooden case. The wood was fine, a brilliant cherry wood, varnished beautifully and clearly expensive. There were no engravings or anything to indicate who the case was from. The case was held shut by a single clasp, which Dazai easily popped open, opening the wooden box to reveal a single beautiful red rose, the stem was held in a delicate satin bed, the petals carefully placed in the box to ensure they wouldn’t be crushed with the case’s closure.

“It’s beautiful.” Atsushi described in awe.

“Who the hell would send you something like this?” Kunikida inquired, the entirety of the office echoing the same question, albeit silently.

Tied to the stem of the rose was a delicate ribbon, and tied to the end of the ribbon was a single note, and upon reading it, Dazai could only smile.

It seems someone has discovered the game.

***********

Chuuya was exhausted, he’d spent the day putting out fire after fire, first there was an issue with a supply chain at the other side of town that he had to sort out, which resulted in more murder than he was planning on today, one of their warehouses on the East side of town had been broken into and of course he had to deal with that, and then as icing on the cake he arrived back at the office only to find a mountain of paperwork on his desk, which he got through, albeit begrudgingly. He was determined to throw his phone out the window if it rang one more time today.

The click of his door unlocking was a welcome sound, he was beyond ready for a shower and bed. His apartment was dark as he walked in, just as he’d left it, although something felt off.

Turning on his light, chuuya was greeted with a surprising sight. A fresh vase of flowers perched perfectly on his bar, the flowers a combination of red roses, camellias and tulips, a delicate satin bow wrapped around the glass neck, and one of his favorite chokers clasped above it.

“My dog is quite rude.” Chuuya spun to only be greeted by the image of a certain mackerel lounging on his sofa, his tan coat hanging on the rack by the door. Chuuya felt the familiar heat of rage building inside his chest.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop breaking into my apartment!?” Chuuya shouted, angrily tossing his coat onto the coat rack along side Dazai’s.

“I mean honestly, is this any way to speak to your master?” Dazai held up a familiar white note, one Chuuya distinctly remembered tying to the rose he’d sent to the agency. It read ‘stupid mackerel’.

“It’s called leaving a note, something you should do when sending someone flowers.” Chuuya crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his hip out as he eyed his uninvited guest, who despite his show of anger, the mafia executive was not surprised to see here. He knew what he was doing the second he sent that rose.

“But that wouldn’t be nearly as fun! The whole intention was to play a game of fetch, and my dog did so well despite being and idiot.” Dazai teased, pulling out a familiar rose and holding it out in front of him.

“I’M NOT YOUR DOG!” Chuuya barked. Dazai smiled as he stood from his seat, rose being laid gently on the coffee table before the detective approached. Suddenly the air got far to serious for Chuuya’s liking, Dazai’s expression switching from teasing to affectionate. It was quiet for a moment before Chuuya spoke up. “You could have just communicated normally you know.”

“And what’s the fun in that? I wanted to make you work.”

“Bastard.”

“Did you learn a lot about flowers?”

“More than I thought I ever wanted to.” Dazai’s hands were on his hips in a second, his grip was tight but loose enough that he was still giving Chuuya an out if he wanted it.

“And what did you learn from the ones I sent?” He was closer now, close enough that Chuuya could feel his words on his skin, his breath on his flesh. The grip on his hips burned and the feeling in his chest became all consuming. It wasn’t anger anymore, but a burning ache that seemed to pull him forward, just a few inches was all it would take.

“I learned that you’re an idiot.” He said finally, and closed the distance. The kiss was chaste at first, just a simple press of lips, then Dazai’s grip on his hips tightened and his own hands found their way to the collar of Dazai’s shirt, pulling him infinitely closer.

Chuuya found his back against the wall and his fingers tangled in Dazai’s hair before he knew it. Dazai’s hands trailed up his sides, their touch hot irons even through his clothes. If someone had told him when they were 15 that one day he’d have this man’s tongue in his mouth and hands on his body he’d have punted them halfway across the city, but here he was, desperately trying to memorize Dazai’s taste.

He wasn’t sure when the feelings started, probably sometime around 17. After Dazai left he thought they’d just go away with time, that he’d heal and close that door behind him, but the second that bandaged asshole walked back into his life that door swung right back open.

Dazai trailed his lips down Chuuya’s throat, nipping at his tender flesh, placing claiming marks in places he knew would be difficult to cover, not that Chuuya particularly cared right now. His head knocked against the hard wall as Dazai bit down between where his shoulder met his neck, a harsh bite, prying noises that had Chuuya been more lucid, he would have been embarrassed about.

He tangled his fingers in brunette waves, yanking hard enough to draw a gasp from Dazai’s lips before they were once again occupied with Chuuya’s own. He let Dazai explore his mouth, let him pull him closer, reveled in the way his bandaged arms wrapped around him. He gave another harsh tug to his hair, drawing out another gasp. Breaking the kiss, Chuuya set to work placing his own marks on the flesh of Dazai’s throat that he could access. He bit down hard on the skin just above his bandages, drawing damn near the most seductive moan out of the man before him that he’d ever heard. That would be a fun mark to explain to the armed detective agency.

“Have fun explaining that to glasses tomorrow.” Chuuya said as he laved the mark with his tongue. He could hear Dazai’s amused smile as he spoke.

“I’ll tell him the truth. My dog bit me.” Chuuya bit him again, this time significantly harder, drawing the slightest hiss from Dazai’s lips as he abused his tender skin.

Chuuya shoved Dazai over to the couch, toppling him down onto the cushion before climbing into his lap, Dazai’s hands once again finding his hips as he forced him down onto his lap. A tiny thrust up from Dazai pulled a moan from both of them before Chuuya once again set to work memorizing the inside of Dazai’s mouth with his tongue. Dazai’s hands were at the buttons of Chuuya’s vest, nimbly working to rid him of the offending garment, which he proceeded to throw across the room once it was removed before yanking Chuuya’s shirt up, untucking it so he could slide his hands under it and flatten them against Chuuya’s back, shifting him closer and providing a roll of his hips once more.

Dazai’s fingers were cold as he moved from Chuuya’s back to his stomach, tracing up to his chest. Chuuya ground down against Dazai below him, swallowing his moan. The wash of no longer human across his skin, down to his bones, the constant buzz of for the tainted sorrow quietted, his mind was fuzzy with nothing but Dazai and getting closer, getting more of him, tasting him, devouring him whole, and Chuuya imagined Dazai was having the same thoughts. He could feel Dazai hard beneath him, he was in no better state, his tight pants a little too tight as he rolled his hips once more. Then it happened.

Buzz…buzz…buzz

Everything halted. It was Chuuya’s phone, which prompted Dazai to remove his hands from inside Chuuya’s shirt and grab it from his back pocket before Chuuya could react.

“Have a boyfriend I should know about?” Dazai teased as he held the phone out of Chuuya’s reach, letting it ring.

“Shut the fuck up and give me my phone!” Chuuya barked back, finally snaching the phone from Dazai’s grasp just in time to answer it. “This is Executive Nakahara.”

“Executive Nakahara, so professional.” Dazai murmured as he set his attention on placing more marks on Chuuya’s neck as he listened to the phone call. Chuuya landed a well placed punch Dazai’s shoulder in response, not that it did much to deter the man.

“Yes boss, of course.” Chuuya answered, choking back a moan when Dazai rolled his hips up once again, paired with a harsh suck to the sensitive area just below his ear. “Y-yes I can be there in 20 minutes.”

“No you can’t.” Dazai mumbled against his skin.

“Yes sir.” Chuuya finishes before hanging up the phone. He tosses it onto the couch beside them as Dazai hugs him closer.

“Absolutely not.” Dazai says sourly. He trails gentle kisses up Chuuya’s neck as his arms tighten around his middle. Chuuya’s hands find his shoulders, trailing up his neck and into his hair. “You’re staying right here, we’re not done.”

“You know I have to go, Dazai.” He doesn’t try to pull away yet though.

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do,” Chuuya waited for an answer, when it didn’t come, he continued. “Osamu.” He said into his ear. He rarely called Dazai by his first name, even after so many years, he only used it when he needed to. And here, he knew he needed to. He needed to convey that this wasn’t just a fluke, that when he left he would be coming back and had every intention of picking up exactly where they left off. Dazai met his eyes, and in that moment Chuuya realized how much he liked being able to see both of them, his hand came to rest on his cheek, thumb stroking the skin under the eye he used to keep covered. He leaned down and connected their lips one more time, the kiss was sweet, it was gentle. “Rain check.”

“Promise?” Dazai whispered against his lips.

“Yes.”

“Good, because I can’t have my dog running away you know, maybe I should get you microchipped.” Chuuya stood abruptly.

“YOU MOTHERFU— I’M NOT YOUR DOG!”

#bungo stray dogs #soukoku #dazai x chuuya #chuuya nakahara #osamu dazai #bsd soukoku #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya

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bechloeislegit · 2 years ago

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25 Days of BeChloe Christmases 2022

A/N: First, my sincerest apologies for not posting on Day 18 or 19. I had no WiFi and found out I had a bad router; I got a new one, and things are working okay now.

I was going to work on Day 18&19 and post them today, but that's not going to happen. So instead, I will be editing them and using them for Days 21 & 22. Doing this will put me back on track, and I can work on my Secret Santa Pitchmas gift.

I still plan to do something for Days 18 & 19 AFTER Christmas.

Day 20 - Secret Santa Crush

From Tumblr User Anonymous: Beca and Chloe are coworkers with huge crushes on each other. They get each other for office secret Santa and use it to tell each other they like them.

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

Beca sat with her chin in her hand, staring at the empty desk across the room.

"Whatcha lookin' at, short stuff?" Fat Amy asked, bumping Beca's shoulder.

"Nothing," Beca said, settling back in her chair. "Um, have you seen Chloe?"

"She had an appointment this morning," Stacie said from behind Beca. "I heard her telling Aubrey yesterday. She'll be in later."

"Oh," Beca said.

"Are you finally going to ask her out?" Stacie whispered.

"No," Beca scoffed. "Why would you ask that?"

"Because your toner for her can be seen from space," Stacie said.

"I do not have a toner for Chloe," Beca said, looking around to make sure no one was listening.

"Good morning, Chloe," Beca heard Aubrey Posen say and straightened her posture.

"Good morning!" Chloe called out. As she passed Beca's desk, she said, "Hey, Becs!"

"Hey, uh, good morning, Chloe," Beca mumbled.

"Listen up, everyone," Aubrey said, clapping her hands to get their attention. "You may have noticed that the office Christmas tree is up, which means it's Secret Santa time!"

A few light cheers went up; Chloe was excitedly clapping and bouncing in her seat. Beca smiled at her. Chloe grinned back, causing Beca to avert her gaze and look at Aubrey.

"You know the drill," Aubrey continued. "Envelopes will be placed on the tree with a name inside. Then, you pick an envelope from the tree and buy that person a gift. We will have the gift exchange at the Christmas Party on December 23rd."

"What if we won't be here for the party?" Jesse asked. "I'm leaving that morning for Pennsylvania to spend Christmas with my family that morning."

"Then don't pick a name," Aubrey said. "The envelopes will be put in place on Friday, so let me know before then if you won't be here to participate. For everyone else, the gifts should be no more than forty dollars, and you can place them under the tree anytime before the party. Any questions?"

Aubrey looked around to see everyone shaking their heads.

"No?" Aubrey said. "Great. Get back to work. Chloe, may I see you in my office?"

"Sure," Chloe said, standing and following Aubrey.

Stacie rolled her chair over to Beca's desk.

"You should try and get Chloe's name for Secret Santa," Stacie said.

Beca looked at her. "How do you propose I do that? I mean, if I wanted to do that, how would I? No one knows whose name is in the envelope.

"I'll find out who got Chloe's name, and you can offer to trade with them," Stacie said. "I can always figure out who got who."

Chloe came out of Aubrey's office, and Beca watched her walk over and stop in front of her desk. Stacie smirked and rolled back over to her desk.

"Can I help you, Chloe?" Beca asked.

"I hope so," Chloe said. "Aubrey just asked me to head up the party committee, and I need some people to help with food, decorating, and stuff. I'm having a meeting in the conference room at two today to get things started. Would you be willing to volunteer to help?"

"Um, sure," Beca said. "I can do that."

"How about you, Stacie?" Chloe asked. "Could you help as well?"

"Sure," Stacie said. "I'll help."

"Great!" Chloe said with a beaming smile. "I'll write down some ideas I have, and we can discuss them at the meeting. Later, girls."

Beca couldn't help but smile as she watched Chloe practically skip back to her desk.

~~ 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases 2022 ~~

Chloe sat at her desk and smiled when she saw Beca looking at her. She smiled, and Beca quickly looked away, causing Chloe to frown.

"What is it about Beca that makes me so nervous about asking her out?" Chloe thought. "She seems to like me, too."

Chloe sighed, woke up her computer, and got lost in the weekly report she needed to run.

Chloe was so engrossed in her work that she lost all track of time.

"Chloe, are you coming to the meeting?" Stacie asked as she walked past Chloe's desk.

"What?" Chloe said. "It can't be two o'clock already."

"Afraid so," Stacie said.

Chloe stood and looked around. "Is Beca already in the conference room?"

"She went to lunch late," Stacie said. "But she said she'd see us in the meeting."

The two women entered the conference room to find Fat Amy and Jessica waiting for them.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Chloe said. "I got busy and lost track of time."

"Can we hurry this along," Fat Amy said. "I still have to finish my report."

"Right," Chloe said. "First, I want to thank you all-"

"Sorry, I'm late," Beca said as she hurried into the room.

"It's okay, Beca," Chloe said. "We just started."

Beca stood nervously to the side.

"Is everything okay?" Chloe asked.

"I, um, I saw you were busy and hadn't eaten lunch, so I brought you a sandwich from the diner," Beca said, holding a bag out to Chloe. "It's your usual."

"Aww," Stacie said. "That's so sweet."

Beca glared at Stacie.

"Thank you, Beca," Chloe said, hugging Beca. "This is very sweet of you."

Beca blushed and patted Chloe on the back. "You're welcome."

Chloe pulled back from the hug and looked at Beca. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it," Beca said. "It's my treat."

"I'll get yours next time," Chloe said.

"Um, okay," Beca said.

Beca smiled as she went and sat down. She blushed and glared at Amy when Amy started making kissing noises at her.

"Okay, ladies," Chloe said, getting everyone's attention. "We don't have much time, so let's get started."

~~ 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases 2022 ~~

It was the day of the party, and Chloe was excited because "her party team" did an excellent job with everything. She called everyone over to her desk and handed them each an envelope.

"What's this?" Beca asked, looking at the envelope in her hand.

"It's just little something from me to say thank you for all your hard work on the party," Chloe said.

"You didn't have to do that, Chloe," Stacie said.

"But, I'm glad she did," Fat Amy said, holding up a gift card to the diner next door to their building.

"Did we all get the same thing?" Jessica asked, opening her envelope and looking inside. "We did."

"Let's plan to use our cards and have lunch together after the holidays," Stacie said.

The other girls agreed.

"As the party team's leader, Chloe should come with us," Beca said. Then, at Fat Amy's glare, Beca quickly added, "I'll pay for her lunch."

"In that case, you should join us, Red," Fat Amy said.

Chloe smiled and said, "I'd like that. Thank you, Beca."

Beca blushed, and Stacie grinned at her.

"Let's go, ladies," Chloe said, standing from her desk. "The party will start soon, and we need to do one more check to ensure everything's perfect."

The team made their way to the conference room where the party would be. Aubrey came in behind them.

"Chloe, you and your team did a great job," Aubrey said, looking around. "I'm impressed."

"Thank you, Aubrey," Chloe said.

Aubrey took Chloe's arm and led her to a corner where no one could overhear them.

"Are you ready for the Secret Santa?" Aubrey asked.

"Yeah, I am," Chloe said, grinning. "I just hope Beca likes it."

"I'm sure she will," Aubrey said. "Especially when she learns your part of the present."

Chloe was kept from responding as the rest of the employees started arriving for the party.

An hour later, Chloe was making the rounds.

"Amy, stop adding liquor to the punch," Chloe chastised the boisterous blonde. "We want to make sure everyone makes it home safely."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," Fat Amy said with a two-finger salute.

Chloe then made her way over to Beca, who was providing the music.

"Hey, Beca," Chloe said, smiling. "I love the music you've put together."

"Thanks," Beca said.

"Aubrey's waving at me," Chloe said. "I think we're going to do the Secret Santa exchange soon, so after this song, cut the music."

"Okay," Beca said.

Chloe squeezed Beca's arm before walking over to stand with Aubrey. The song ended, and Beca paused the music.

"Okay, everyone," Aubrey called out. "Gather around; it's time for the Secret Santa exchange."

Everyone gathered around the tree. Amy handed Beca a drink as she joined her.

"Thank," Beca said, taking a sip. She grimaced at the amount of alcohol in the drink. "Sheesh, Amy, are you trying to get me drunk?"

"Shhh," Amy said, causing Beca to look at Aubrey and Chloe.

"First, I want to thank Chloe and her team for putting together such a wonderful party," Aubrey said, lightly clapping.

The partygoers clapped and cheered as well.

"Okay, settle down," Aubrey said. "Chloe will now explain how were are going distribute the Secret Santa gifts. Chloe?"

"Thank you, Aubrey," Chloe said. "I'll call you up one at a time and hand you your gift. You'll open it and see if you can guess who your Secret Santa is. Okay?"

"This is going to take forever," Bumper Allen said. "Let's just get our gifts and open them. Then our Secret Santa can tell us who they are whenever they want."

"Yeah." several voices call out.

"Okay," Chloe said, chuckling. "If that's how you want to do it. Go for it."

Everyone rushed to the tree and, amidst laughing and shoving, grabbed their gifts. Beca stood back to wait for an opportunity to find hers.

"Out of the way, flat butts," Fat Amy said, pushing her way to the front. "Aha! Got it."

Fat Amy pushed her way out of the crowd and returned to the drinks table. She opened her gift bag and pulled out a bottle of Tequila. She waved it around, cheering.

The partygoers finally moved away from the tree, and Beca found her gift among the last few still under the tree. She picked up Chloe's as well and walked over to her.

"Um, I know we're supposed to wait until you open your gift," Beca said. "But, I, um, I'm your Secret Santa."

"You are?" Chloe asked, genuinely surprised. "I'm your Secret Santa."

"Really?" Beca asked.

"I'm excited to see what you got me," Chloe said as she gently removed the paper from her gift. Once the paper was removed, she held a box. She opened the box and took out what was inside. "You bought me a ticket to the New Year's Eve Party at the Hilton?"

"Actually," Beca said. "I bought two. I was hoping-" Beca swallowed and ran a hand through her hair. "I like you, Chloe, and I was hoping you would allow me to be your date to the party."

"Open your gift, Beca," Chloe said, smiling.

Beca furrowed her brow and opened the gift.

"You got me the same thing," Beca said, holding up the single ticket.

"Yeah," Chloe said. "I like you, too. And I also bought two tickets, hoping I could be your date."

Beca laughed and pulled Chloe into a hug. "I'd love to be your date!"

"I'd love to be your date, too," Chloe said. Then, she pulled back from the hug and asked, "What are were going to do with the extra pair of tickets?"

Beca looked over to see Stacie flirting with Aubrey. She doesn't know how, but she guessed they had something to do with her and Chloe being each other's Secret Santa.

"I have an idea," Beca said, taking Chloe's hand. "Come with me."

Chloe let Beca lead her over to Stacie and Aubrey.

"How would you two like to go on a New Year's Eve double date with Chloe and me?"

"That's a great idea, Beca!" Chloe said, kissing her on the cheek. "What do you say, Aubrey? Are you finally going to grow a pair and ask Stacie out?"

"Yeah, Aubrey," Stacie said, smirking. "Are you finally going to grow a pair and ask me out?"

"Stacie," Aubrey said. "Would you-"

"Yes, I would!" Stacie said, pulling Aubrey into a kiss.

"We should-"

"Don't mind if we do," Chloe said, crashing her lips against Beca's.

Beca put her arms around Chloe and returned the kiss. Their kiss broke naturally, and Beca smiled at Chloe.

"I was going to say we should leave them alone," Beca said, causing Chloe's face to fall. "But I like your idea better."

Chloe smiled again as Beca smashed her lips into hers.

#bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #stacie conrad #aubrey posen #Christmases 2022 #25 Day of BeChloe Christmases 2022

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cameronsactivities · 2 years ago

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Anderperry Week 2023, Day 7

(wild card day!!)

Carpe Diem

The bell above the door dinged as Neil walked into the bookstore. It was one of the last places in the city where he could retain his anonymity after he’d gained some fame as an actor. He loved how it was always quiet, without being silently sterile. The small coffee shop in the corner kept the store smelling like freshly-ground coffee beans and steeping tea. Neil bought a drink, letting the steam fog up his glasses while he perused the books.

He swore he saw a familiar name out of the corner of his eye. In disbelief, he picked up the book. He wasn’t mistaken. In a neat, serif font, the name “Todd Anderson” was printed right there. Neil opened the book, a poetry anthology. He read the dedication five or six times, confirming that it was undoubtedly the Todd Anderson he was thinking of. “To the Dead Poets Society,” it read.

Memories of nights crowded in a tiny cave, desk sets tossed off bridges, and promises made in youthful spirit came back to Neil. Memories of kisses in the darkness, hands interlaced beneath covers, and whispers exchanged in chilly air.

But Neil and Todd were driven apart by career, as Neil moved to Hollywood and Todd stayed in New England. Their excuses held more weight than they thought they did, and suddenly, Neil had realized that he hadn’t called Todd in more than a month.

Neil never found love again since then, almost five years ago. He gingerly placed the book back onto the display stand and quickly walked out of the bookstore, leaving his tea behind and wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.

Neil’s own face stared down at him disapprovingly from a movie poster. The balance of success and sacrifice had been wobbling out of control behind Neil’s back for so long, and it was just starting to catch up to him.

***

“Excuse me, are you Neil Perry?”

Neil sighed, and as humble as he was, he was not in the mood to greet a fan. But as he looked up, he saw a set of blue eyes that he was well-acquainted with, and blond hair that would only appear golden when the sunlight filtered through it.

“Todd?” Neil took off his baseball cap.

“Hi.”

Five years worth of silence stretched between them, and their awkward departure five years ago went unmentioned.

“It’s such a coincidence, seeing you here,” Neil said.

“I switched publishers two years ago, and now I live in LA.”

“Oh.” The silence seemed to push them further away from each other.

“I should get going,” Todd said.

“Please,” Neil said, then cleared his throat to make it sound less like a beg. “Please, have a cup of coffee with me. It’s on me.”

From that moment onwards, autumn passed by like a blur. They started quite clunkily, like an old car engine refusing to start, but after a few conversations, they were cruising down the freeway with the wind in their hair like vintage movie stars. The embers of a quieted love were fanned back to life, and the fire was roaring bigger than ever.

One evening, they booked a reservation at a fancy dinner restaurant, but upon seeing that the prices were absurd, even for Los Angeles, Neil and Todd ordered drinks and left a big tip. They chose to eat grocery store canned soup instead.

They spent their weekends in museums or movie theaters, and their nights dancing to old songs on Neil’s record player. Sometime in September, Todd moved into Neil’s apartment, and they became roommates again, except they didn’t bother with having two beds this time. Neil’s coworkers wondered why he had started bringing delicious, homemade meals instead of the same sandwich every day.

But as the temperatures dropped and the last qualities of summertime ebbed away, the days of blissful kisses and pretending to hate pumpkin spice lattes came to an end. Neil and Todd laid in bed, huddled together for warmth, as they kept putting off switching their quilt for a warmer duvet.

“Todd,” Neil said, biting back tears. “There’s something really important I need to tell you, and I’m so sorry for not telling you earlier; that was really selfish of me.”

“What is it?” Todd answered gently.

“Before I say it, I need you to know that I won’t be mad or sad if you leave me because of it.”

Todd stayed silent, as if he were afraid to make a promise.

Neil exhaled shakily, wiping away a tear that had formed. “I have this thing, I found out about it a year ago. It’s a– It’s a heart disease. An arrhythmia.”

“Neil–”

“No, Todd,” Neil sniffed. “One of the symptoms is sudden death.”

“No.”

“What do you mean? I can’t just say ‘no’ to a disease.”

“No,” Todd repeated, and they both smiled weakly at the memory that surfaced. “We’ve had five years robbed from us. We can’t afford to lose any more.”

“But what about you? Is it worth it for you to be with someone who’s going to die? I can’t do that to you, I–”

“Neil,” Todd said. “Neil. Neil.” He broke out into a light chuckle. “Neil, carpe diem.”

He smiled back bittersweetly. “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.”

#anderperry week 2023 #anderperry #todd anderson #neil perry #dead poets society #dps #my first fandom week!!#i did not edit any of this i promise i'll put in more effort next year i just happened to get thefted this time #so i read somewhere that keating was originally supposed to have an illness?#also i just watched la la land so that explains the beginning #could this be better? yes. am i impatient to post? also yes.#also im experimenting with different styles to try not to use dialogue as a crutch #peace out #cameron has activities

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pan-fried-autism · 2 years ago

Text

He thought back to what she mentioned to him earlier, right before she left.

"In case I forget to come up, my cabin number is A-2! It's with the smaller ones." she had said to him.

... Maybe he could wait a little longer. Surely she was just running late.

.........

This job hasn't been easy for her lately.

Margot had been given ownership of the cabins when her father died, and it used to be alright. Get someone who wanted a place alone for a bit, wanted to hide, occasionally a researcher who wanted to study and explore the area a bit. They’d stay a while, she’d charge ‘em after, that’s how it was. Though lately, there were less customers, seeing as The Lich was lurking around.

She’d been lucky to get one customer lately, though, and she could FEEL that late phone bill being paid soon. Stayin’ for the weekend in a single cabin, apparently to visit a friend that lived nearby. That was alright with Marg (as she was called by friends and family). So, she sat back and waited for the stay to end.

Monday came. No money. No happy customer.

She sat in the small brick building by the lot, sitting by her computer at her little desk, frowning a bit. This had happened before, with a customer staying longer than they said they would, and forgetting to pay as well. It was always annoying when it happened, of course, but it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world. Margot usually figured it was someone who just needed to stay somewhere warm a bit, which was understandable, especially in the winter months where the cold was practically inescapable. She usually waited about a week after their supposed leaving date before she asked for the money (with an extra charge for being late). Sitting in that office, she thought that was the case. She figured she’d just let whoever it was stay a bit. We all gotta survive somehow, right?

On Tuesday, she got a call.

The person on the other end of the line had one of those voices where you couldn’t tell how old they were. The way they talked, they sounded kinda young.

They explained what was up-- a coworker of theirs had come up here for the weekend, and hadn’t returned for work. They had tried contacting her too, but they received no answer from her. Their boss was planning on writing her up, but at the same time this wasn’t something she normally did, and could you maybe check up on her please?

Before she could answer properly, they simply said to refer to them as an anonymous tip and hung up.

Still holding the phone for a few seconds, Margot felt a new line form on her forehead, and her hand went up to massage her temples.

Ah, jeezus, she thought, this is the LAST thing I needed right now.

Putting her phone in her pocket, Margot got up from her armchair and headed to the front door, taking a winter coat with her. Her fluffy white fur would protect her for now, but she’d probably need the coat once she got there.

Soon, Marg was driving out of the little town she lived in, to the desolate snowy wastes she owned. She had picked Kaikiville solely for its location, as it was the closest town to the northern regions (followed by her hometown of Bores). Only about 2000 people, but that’s how she liked it-- she preferred to be by herself.

After about 10 minutes, she pulled into the parking lot. When she got out, she noticed that hers wasn’t the only car there. A smaller car, looked like a Beetle, was sitting in about 6 inches of snow. Practically covered in it. Ice covered most non-horizontal surfaces as well.

The fox grimaced at the sight.

She was probably dead.

Sighing, she donned the coat and began the climb up the trail to the cabin. Even after always going up this trail for nearly her whole life, she was already getting out of breath after two minutes of walking.

God, why’d I have to age?!

Eventually, she finally arrived at the cabin. Ms. Mewton (the missing occupant) had been staying in one of the one-room cabins. A-2, she believed.

Margot got the cabin keys out of her jean pocket, and gave the doorknob a quick jimmy to see if somehow it was unlocked.

No dice. Keys it is, then.

Each cabin had the same keyhole, and only needed one key. The other keys were for the office and a nearby shed, which had tools like shovels and ice picks.

Into the knob went the key, and into the cabin went Marg, who was met by an unusual sight.

To the left in the kitchen sat a pot from which a slight rotting smell emanated, and to the right on the living room couch was a robot. Said robot was bundled up in one of the little quilts, watching some sorta movie. The Black Cauldron, she thought. She hated that movie as a kid.

Forgetting about the movie, she saw that the robot was looking at her. Its glassy little eyes were a dull green, and it blinked like a camera lens opening and closing. Kinda weird.

Margot shook her head a bit and approached the robot. “Hey,” She greeted it.

The robots head tilted slightly.

“Hello. Who are you?” it asked. Its voice sounded kinda a recording to Margot.

“Uh… I’m, uh, Margot Vulpesburg, I’m the owner of the cabins here.” she stated, firmly yet somewhat awkwardly. “Are you Ms. Grementine Mewton?”

The robot was quiet for a second.

“No, I’m her assistant, M0u5e Mewton. Do you need her?” he replied.

“...Kinda. See, Ms. Mewton was supposed to leave and pay me two days ago. Do you know where she is, kid?”

M0u5e looked off to the side, and made a computer-esque humming noise. She shrugged.

“No. She said she would be back soon. You may need to wait.”

Margot raised an eyebrow at this statement. “... Whadda you mean?”

“She told me that she and Mr. Harris would be back soon, and to wait here until they came back.”

… Huh?

“Who the heck is Mr. Harris?”

“A man. He’s been coming up to our house and talking to Dr. Mewton for a while now. Usually she tells him to go away. She doesn’t like him very much.”

Margot’s brow furrowed.

“Did he… come with you?”

“No. He came unexpectedly--” saying this, M0u5e seemed to freeze in realization-- “... and Dr. Mewton told me to go to the bedroom.”

Though her brow remained furrowed, it was from a new emotion of Margot’s-- worry. She had expected that Ms. Mewton just wasn’t paying her, or was killed by the Lich.

Nothing like this.

She bent down with her hands on her knees to get on eye level with M0u5e, and softened her voice a little bit. “What happened next?”

M0u5e was no longer meeting her eyes.

“Well… I was in the bedroom. I could hear them talking. I couldn’t catch what they were saying, but Mr. Harris sounded mad. I think he hurt her at some point. Soon, he came in and started going through the drawers and packing up stuff in her suitcase. I asked him what he was doing a few times, but he didn’t answer me.

“He went back out, and a couple minutes later Grem came in and she had a coat and stuff on. She told me that she and Jack would be going out for a bit and to wait here for her.”

“... How long ago was that?” Margot asked in a hushed, shocked tone.

“You said she was supposed to pay you two days ago, right? Was it Sunday two days ago?”

“Yes.”

“Then that was on Friday.”

The foxs’ eyes widened at this.

“... You’ve been here by yourself for five days??”

M0u5e said nothing. When she spoke, her voice was barely audible.

“... Yeah.”

Crap.

Margot stood up straight, breathing out a sigh of worry. What the hell was she gonna do about this? Even before she took over, when she was merely working on upkeep, she’s never had to deal with a potential kidnapping case.

Ideas ran around in her head, trying to arrange themselves into a tangible plan. Obviously she was going to call the police and file a missing persons report. But… What else could she do?

Her eyes fell back on M0u5e. He was looking up at her, still bundled in the blanket and silent.

Margot hummed a bit, before crouching to M0u5e’s level again, and spoke-- “Listen, uh… you’ve been here for five days, yeah? You cold?”

A robotic, jerky nod.

“Do you have any family?”

A small shake, but it only lasted a second before he caught himself. “Well, Ms. Mewton has two fathers. She hasn’t been in contact with them for a very long time, though. Longer than I’ve been alive.”

Margot made a tiny grimace, which quickly faded. “Would you… maybe feel comfortable staying with me for a little bit? I mean, you could stay here still, but it’s all isolated and cold and I don’t think like metal and stuff does well in the cold.” she proposed.

M0u5e blinked at her. He was silent for about half a minute, whirs and hums audible from his head. Finally, he blinked again and gave his answer.

“That would be nice. I’ve started to get uncomfortable here, anyway.”

For the first time since she got there, Margot smiled.

“Great to hear,” she responded, “Now, do you have any winter clothes?”

M0u5e nodded, and she got up and walked over to the coat rack. Along with a small coat was a pile of other things, including boots.

After around 2-3 minutes of robotic yanking and tugging, M0u5e was all bundled up and ready to go. Before Margot could open the door again, though, it quickly ran over to the TV, saying “Oh, we can’t forget about the tapes!”

Another minute and M0u5e was carrying a plastic bag of VHS tapes. With his free hand, he held one of Margots hands. Margot lead the way back to the front door, opening and locking it behind her. As they started down the trail, Margot had one more thing to say.

“Are you comfortable talking with cops, M0u5e?”

“I’ve never spoken to one before.”

“It’s okay, I’ll be there for you.”

The two continued down, eventually dissappearing out of sight.

In a tree a few meters away from the trail, a faint blue colour glowed, then faded.

#too overeager to wait and post this #tne alternate ending #the north experiment #tw kidnapping #tw stalking mention #margot vulpesberg #m0u5e mewton #swap!m0u5e #swap au #story #alternate ending #fiction #fanfiction

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