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#she probably hid his mask and she’s waiting for him to ask for it back
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I like to think even he got sick of her sometimes
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1d1195 · 1 month
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Most VII
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Read Most here | ~5.8k words
From me: Last part! (for now) I hope you like it. Thank you for sticking with it--I don't think it was very popular after all the additional parts, so I appreciate all of you for letting me finish it.
Warnings: angst but fluff. Probably need so suspend your belief a bit more (especially if you don't believe in soulmates)
Summary: She's safe. He's safe. There's nothing left to do but talk.
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Harry didn’t let go of her when they put her in the ambulance. He held onto her hand the entire time. Nor when they put an oxygen mask on her beautiful face. He didn’t let go of her for one second when they arrived at the hospital.
Honestly, she couldn’t complain. She was tired. Exhausted, really. Her only other thought outside of her own traumatization of the day was that poor Harry had to be just as drained (or more) after being awake for over thirty-six hours—maybe even longer. But his hand squeezed hers while they looked her over. She held another oxygen mask over her mouth and inhaled deeply, repeatedly while Harry sat beside her on the little exam bed. It felt like she was breathing in the freshest air in the middle of the forest. But a huge part of her believed the same result would have been achieved if she hid her face in Harry’s shirt the way she wanted to and breathed in the same manner she was breathing with an oxygen mask.
“Are you feeling, okay?” The doctors asked her so many times while they ran tests and Harry seemed to hold his breath each time, like it would suddenly change.
“I’m really scared,” she admitted finally looking away from Harry’s worried eyes. “I’m so worried something’s wrong and I’m not going to notice,” her voice cracked. Harry squeezed her hand and watched her anxiously. Somehow, his smile was encouraging. But she wasn’t sure he fully believed it.
“You’re okay, baby,” he whispered quietly. But she saw it in his eyes. If he could swap places with her right then, he would have. After everything she put him through, he would still save her and take all the pain.
“I know,” the doctor looked her over sympathetically. “But I promise, I thoroughly checked everything. Your heart is strong. The oxygen is helping for sure. But to be sure, we want to keep you overnight for observation just to make sure... perhaps your boyfriend can grab you some of your belongings—”
“That’s okay,” she could see Harry was surprised to hear her say it and not himself. “I don’t want him to leave me.”
Harry thought his heart was going to break again. The word boyfriend didn’t deter her. It felt like part of his life snapped back into place. He thought the magnetic field had realigned the day he saw her in traffic, but it felt like the tilt of the earth finally righted itself to the correct position. This was it. Everything was back to normal.
At least as far as his heart was concerned.
He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “Right,” the doctor smiled. Like she already knew of their love story by just looking at them. “Well... make yourselves comfortable, then.”
There was very little Harry could do about her fear. So if it was the only thing he could do, Harry was going to ensure she was comfortable.
*
He made her laugh like he used to. Part of him worried it wasn’t good for her achy, smoky lungs, but it didn’t matter. He loved to chat with her. Harry’s fingers never released hers. But to be fair, hers didn’t let go of his either. Not even though she was certain they were a bit cramped, and her mind worried that Harry was uncomfortable situated in the chair beside the bed. Their only reprieve was using the restroom. But then it was right back to interlocked fingers and the warmth of their palms slipping alongside one another.
He loved her so painfully much. He hoped it was enough.
The hours crept by. The fire, the waiting for an ambulance, their time in the ER, the admittance to a room, it all ticked by slowly and anxiously for the pair of them. But despite how it played out, she got her time after Harry’s shift to talk with him the way he wanted—the way she wanted. They talked for so long, the sun set across the room turning Harry’s skin into this beautiful golden shade that made him look utterly gorgeous. Like a painting in the finest museums in the world. But his eyes stayed on her the entire duration of the sunset.
Once the sun was down and the only light they had was from the bathroom, (because the fluorescents were so harsh and headache inducing for the two of them long term) Harry started to yawn and seemed to continue yawning for minutes on end.
That was when she finally remembered time existed. Time ceased to have meaning while she was with Harry. That time was spent putting their lives back together piece by piece; filling in gaps they didn’t know they were missing but belonged to the parts of each other they had shared with one another ages ago—before they even started dating. When fate decided they were soulmates and they didn’t have a choice in the matter.
By that time, the clock read just past nine when she noticed his yawns were becoming more frequent. She had been pulling the oxygen mask off and on for hours. Seeing his droopy eyes made her ache for something she hadn’t had in years. He was always beautiful and perfect, but something about sleepy, vulnerable Harry made her feel like she could protect him the way he always protected her.
“C’mere,” she wiggled backwards on the small twin hospital bed. She turned on her side to create more space for him. “I think I smell all smoky,” she warned.
Normally, Harry thought he would protest. She needed the rest. She was the one that inhaled all that smoke and Harry hogging her bed with his tall frame wasn’t needed. But his body ached to be closer to her. Closer than the space between her on the bed and him keeping vigil in the chair pulled close allowed. “Think I do too,” he shrugged. They both smelled like smoke. But Harry was certain if he could get close enough, she would smell like herself too; floral, warm, and just her. Like home.
Carefully, Harry slid onto the bed with her. Their legs touched. Thigh to thigh, knee to knee, foot to foot. He placed a hand on her hip pulling her lower half toward him and leaving a space between their torsos so he could look at her perfect, beautiful face.
They fit like puzzle pieces on her small mattress. The reasoning for her hospital visit wasn’t something he would want in a thousand years, but it was almost how he imagined sleeping on her bed in her dorm. Replacing a piece of something he missed out on.
She rested one hand on his ribs, right over his T-shirt. He thought he had died—the feel of her hand on his body was warm and overwhelming. For several moments, they just stared at each other. Like Harry was worried she would disappear again. “The doctor called me your boyfriend,” he whispered eventually.
She nodded. Her cheeks turned pink. “Sorry... I...” she swallowed. “I didn’t know what to say.”
It was starting to get quiet; hospital visiting hours were long over. There was no more chatter coming from other rooms. There was only the sound of beeping machines, the nurses, doctors, and others bustling outside her door. Their gentle breaths mixing together between them.
“Kitten,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Are y’going t’leave me again?” His voice was low, and he hated asking the question because he thought it would upset her. Though it pained him, he needed to know. It was a risk he had to take; making her feel bad. Even if it hurt both of them.
She shook her head immediately. She drew in a deep breath and dropped her forehead forward to his chest and released the air in her lungs. “I won’t live, Harry.”
His lips quirked up into a sympathetic smile. “Think y’would, kitten,” he remarked sadly. “Y’did before.”
She shook her head again. “That wasn’t living, baby,” she murmured.
He closed his eyes and brought her hand to his mouth. “I love you so much. When y’say baby, s’like m’home. I haven’t been home kitten, not without you. Feels like I’ve been nowhere.”
“I thought nowhere was home,” she whispered, a smile in her voice.
When he opened his eyes, she was watching him. She reached for the oxygen mask again, not wanting to interrupt their moment of quiet longing, but immediately he helped her with it. He cupped her cheek around the mask and brushed his thumb along her cheek. “Why would y’listen t’her?”
She dropped her gaze. She was ashamed of herself. Listening to someone who was supposed to be her friend instead of just asking Harry what he was feeling. “I don’t know... She made sense at the time. Sometimes I think she still does... I mean don’t you want more, Harry? What if there is more out there for you than what I can offer? I couldn’t have imagined you up if I tried... but you? You always deserved more than—”
“No,” he shook his head refusing to let her short herself any longer of all the beauty she possessed, all the love, and kindness that she exuded. His hand held her cheek and he skimmed his thumb along cheekbone. “There’s no more, kitten. You’re the most. You, m’love, you are the only thing that exists for me. I’m so sorry y’were alone and felt like y’weren’t enough. You have always been more than enough. The most I could ever need. I’ve… I’ve never been so lost; I can’t imagine how y’felt.”
She turned her face toward his hand, lifted the mask so she could kiss his palm. “Why did you wait for me?” She whispered.
“Because you’re m’soulmate, kitten.”
“But... you don’t believe in those,” she whispered repeating her same statement from last night. It wasn’t something she ever dwelled on. She understood why he didn’t believe in them. Even if it was silly. But maybe it was the little bit of water that dripped into her head and watered the seed that Lauren had planted in her head a few years ago. It wasn’t his fault. Realistically, plenty of people didn’t believe in soulmates.
He shook his head, shrugged. But his eyes didn’t move from hers. “I believe you’re mine, baby.”
Her lower lip wobbled, and tears filled her vision. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry Harry,” her voice broke on every syllable. “I thought if I told you... you would convince me to stay. Then I thought staying would just make you resent me because you never got a chance to... this way... I don’t know... it’s like I’m here now, yeah? And I know now—but I should have known then, right? God Harry, this is so fucked. I fucked up so bad and—” now her monitor displayed an increased heartrate, and her breath was shallow—like she was starting to hyperventilate. So much so that Harry put the mask back over her mouth and shushed her soothingly. He stroked the remainder of her face gently with the back of his hand while her eyes wildly flitted over his face.
“You’re here now,” he told her after the heart monitor read a normal level. “And I’m never letting you get away. Never ever again.” Sighing, she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his chest once more. He kissed the top of her hair and just enjoyed the feeling of her in his arms. The way he dreamed of feeling her. “Gemma actually told me that—”
A spike in her monitor. “Oh my God, she’s going to hate me forever,” she cried, voice breaking. “I should have stayed away,” she moaned. He pulled the oxygen mask away and kissed her softly. It felt so normal. As everything he had felt since he started seeing her these last couple weeks. Touching her, seeing her, hearing her, all of it felt like no time had passed.
When he pulled away, his lips missing the way hers felt against his, her heart rate was steady again. Her cheeks flushed and Harry thought she tasted like smoke, but she still tasted like her too. “Baby, she does not hate you. No one hates you. I’ll make sure of it,” he assured her. “I wish y’told me, but s’not your fault.”
“You’re way too forgiving,” she grumbled.
“God, for you?” He chuckled and kissed the bridge of her nose. “I was going t’tell you that Gem won’t hate you. She said she knew y’were coming back.”
“How could she have possibly known that?”
Harry shrugged nonchalantly. “She said she felt it. She jus’ knew.” There was a prolonged moment of silence while she thought that over. While Harry continued to touch her face as if it was the only thing he was born to do.
“Wish she clued me in,” she grumbled.
He laughed quietly again.
*
When the clock read midnight, it was even quieter in the hospital room. The gentle beeping of machines started to sound like a lullaby. They had stopped talking a long time ago, but they didn’t fall asleep. It felt like making up for lost time. Harry was analyzing her face. Her pores were filled with smoke and Harry inspected the bits of glass that managed to cut her palms from her crawling to safety. He kissed her softly across her pretty face. Like a reminder to himself that she was real and tangible. His lips made a home against her temple. A spot he loved to leave his mouth pressed against—like it was home while her lips were busy.
She was weaning off the oxygen, letting a little under an hour pass in between her use of it. “Hi,” she whispered softly.
He smiled. “Hi,” he dragged his nose along her hairline and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. She fiddled with the fabric of his shirt, right near his collar.
“What did you do while I was gone?” Her voice was quiet. Fading with sleepiness. Harry may have even blinked his eyes closed for a short nap a couple hours prior, but he was content to just stare at her. Ensure that she wasn’t going to leave again.
He trailed his fingers along the side of her face, through the bit of hair that rested against her head along the pillow. He smiled. Smiled more than he thought was possible because at the time he thought his hobby was so dumb. Felt like he was going to die most days without her because she was fresh air and his little ways of keeping himself entertained were hardly a replacement for how she would have fit into his life so effortlessly.
Now... now it seemed like the most important thing he had ever done, and it wasn’t that he had to tell her about it because she asked, he needed to tell her. “I... I got... really into carpentry.”
She snorted; a laugh followed immediately. Arguably the most beautiful sound Harry knew. “Shut up.”
“No... like...” he started to laugh with her. “Like... really into it. Made Mum a bit crazy at times, I think,” he tilted his head back. “Made tables, chairs... I fixed door frames and did trim...”
“Stop, I can’t breathe,” she laughed. The kind of laughter she felt with Addie that night they became best friends. Back when she thought she would never laugh again. “Why?” She covered her face with her hand to stifle her giggles. But Harry made her laugh like it was nothing. As if he made her laugh every day that he wasn’t around her.
He shook his head. “I don’t know...” her laugh was infectious. It made him happy to hear it and he had no choice but to laugh just as hard. “I really don’t. I feel like I should be sad telling y’about it. But I loved it. So, so much.”
“What was your favorite thing to make?”
“Chairs.”
“I think this might be worse than the smoke inhalation,” she laughed again, becoming breathless but Harry didn’t mind this kind of breathlessness. Plus, they still had her oxygen mask. Harry thought it might have been, in the very smallest of ways, good that she left if it made her laugh like this.
Eventually, her laughter died down. There was another bout of quiet for a few moments longer. Then finally Harry asked. “What did y’do?”
Harry was watching her, wiping the tears that came from her heavy laughter from the corners of her eyes. He kissed her forehead again. “I knitted.”
“What?”
“I knitted.”
“Knitted what?”
“Oh my God, Harry. Everything.” It was his turn to laugh, thinking of her surrounded with yarn, covered with yarn. Her bed and desk covered with needles, sweaters, hats, mittens.
“Y’jus’ turned into a little old grandma?” He snorted.
“Yeah, I guess,” she giggled. The clock read two in the morning. She tried to calculate it in her head, but Harry had to have been awake for nearly forty-eight hours at that point. He grabbed the oxygen mask and placed it over her mouth. They were quiet while she took in the pure air. Harry pushed her hair behind her head and trailed his fingers over her cheek.
“Do y’feel okay?” He asked.
She nodded. He put it aside again after a few moments and he kissed her forehead. “What did you miss most about me?” She whispered.
The feeling of longing overtook his body. It was so hard to imagine he had been without her for so long. When they fit together like they did on the little bed, when they sounded like happiness when they laughed together. It wasn’t just missing her. It was agony without her. Like she had taken his heart with her. “Everything, kitten,” he shook his head. “I missed everything ‘bout you.”
She sighed, looked at his chest, outlined the cross below his shirt. It was still covered in smoke and soot from carrying her out. “No, but...” she smiled softly. “Like materially—what did you miss?”
The air felt lighter and maybe she already knew he missed everything about her. The reprieve of seriousness felt a little better. There would be ample time to hash out details regarding how serious it was. How she was to never believe another person about his love for her that wasn’t him (or someone completely vetted like Louis or Sarah). “Oh,” he paused. “Those cheesy potatoes y’make for parties.”
Her laugh made him feel like he could do impossible things. It easily could have been the thing he missed most. “I’ll make them as soon as I get my hands on a kitchen.”
“Oh, baby, you are going t’make me cry,” he squeezed her and kissed the top of her head. “Did y’miss anything ‘bout me?” He asked.
“Harry,” she sighed, nosed at his chest. “Wasn’t just anything. It was everything.”
It felt like his heart was smiling. He tilted her head up and gazed into her eyes. “I meant materially,” he smirked taking her own joke.
Without hesitation, she answered. “I haven’t had my back properly cracked in three years.”
“God, I fucking love you,” he whispered.
She giggled. “I love you too,” she responded. She grabbed his cheeks, kissed his lips long enough to make him think his heart might stop, and then dropped her head back to his chest.
An undeterminable amount of time passed again. There was no more chatting or kissing. It was just nearly pathetic staring; gazing at one another waiting for the other to disappear like a mirage they didn’t know they were seeing. But her eyes drooped lower and Harry yawned. The clock read shortly after two thirty. “We should sleep.”
He shook his head, worry set deep in his eyes that she wished she could rip out and throw away. “M’afraid s’a dream.”
She frowned. “I really hope it’s not.”
He smiled, comforted by the fact the feeling was mutual. “If this is a dream,” he started. “Can y’do me a favor?” He asked. She nodded, waited. “Can y’come home t’me?”
“Yes,” she answered immediately then tucked herself further into his embrace. “As soon as I wake up,” she promised.
He smiled, kissed the top of her head again and gently rubbed a circle on her cheek with his thumb. “Hey, kitten?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you,” he reminded her.
“God Harry, I love you so much.”
Then, because there was truly nothing else that they could say of the last forty-eight hours, they fell asleep.
*
They woke up to the door slamming open against the hospital wall. Harry squeezed her protectively and her heart clenched at the motion. The clock read eleven AM exactly.
Which meant it was officially visiting hours and the first people in the room were Addie and Carter. “Move,” Addie physically pulled Harry off the bed. “You’ve had her long enough now,” she winked at her as she took his spot and kissed her forehead. Harry snorted and then laughed because Harry could never believe such a thing. He could have had her all those three years, every single day, and he would never have enough time with her. “You’re an idiot,” Addie whispered loudly so everyone could hear her say it.
Carter ignored Addie, leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Hey Gorgeous,” he smiled giving her shoulder a squeeze. “You didn’t need to do all this to get us to visit.”
She was groggy with sleep and anxiety. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Harry called us,” Addie wiped the soot from beneath her eyes because it was still caked into her pores. At the same time, the room filled with their remaining friends. There were balloons and flowers, a massive teddy bear.
“Aw, you didn’t bring coffee?” She frowned then winked in fake disappointment.
“Oh,” Harry cleared his throat. “We can’t go to the coffee shop on Main anymore.”
She frowned immediately. This one was not fake. “How come?”
Sarah made eye contact with Harry and had a whole conversation with him just using her eyes. “I knew it,” she mumbled.
Harry scuffed his foot along the floor ignoring Sarah’s quip. “The owners of the coffee shop own the apartment building. S’a whole scandal,” he explained. Which was in part truth. He took a phone call in the early morning from the fire chief while she was fast asleep against his chest. The building was condemned and everything inside it was lost. “Insurance fraud,” he explained simply.
“Jesus,” Niall blinked rubbing a hand over his face. “Bet you’re glad y’storage unit was delayed, now, huh princess?” He smiled sympathetically.
“Oh my God, your notebooks,” Addie whispered realizing how right Niall was.
The heart monitor betrayed her with a small spike and alarm. She swallowed nervously, blushed as everyone looked at her. “Burnt toast, I guess.”
“Grim, babe,” Louis snorted making everyone laugh.
“No, it’s a theory,” she rolled her eyes. “If you burn your toast, it means you have to make new toast. Saves you from a car accident or from being in a place you’re not supposed to be at a specific time. Or you’re the fifth person in line that morning and you get a free coffee.”
“Burnt toast,” he repeated. “Well, I have saved my own life a lot of times then,” he chuckled.
“I think the three toasters you’ve killed would disagree,” Eleanor smiled.
“Are you feeling okay?” Carter asked.
She bit her lip. “I think so... I’m pretty sure I’m going to be allowed to leave soon...but I really need a shower. I wish I had some clothes to—”
“Way ahead of you,” Sarah grabbed the duffle bag Mitch had on his shoulder. He gave her a wink. “Harry thought you might want to be rid of smoky clothes and hair.”
She thought it would be too much to say Harry was her hero in front of their friends. So she would tell him later. Repeatedly.
*
“What are you going to do?” Addie asked as she signed the discharge papers. Her hair was air drying; her skin was less smoky. She watched the black water swirl into the drain during her much-needed shower and with it rid herself of the traumatic day
“I don’t know,” she sighed, laying the pen flat on the clipboard. Addie was seated beside her, not an inch of space between them. “Any chance you and Carter wouldn’t mind your old roommate?” She asked with a smile.
“Oh, you’ve got to be joking,” Addie rolled her eyes. “You’re not seriously going to move back with us after all this?” She asked.
“Addie,” she whispered hoping no one heard her. It seemed they hadn’t as the rest of the group was gathering all the items they had lugged in only a couple hours prior. Harry was getting off the phone near the window. Carter was reentering the room with Mitch; carrying two trays of coffee and bags of food filled the room with the most enticing smells of breakfast sandwiches and espresso. “I don’t really know what else to—”
“Harry!” Addie smiled delightedly hopping off the bed and hurrying to Harry’s side. He was off the phone and in the middle of a conversation with Niall.
“Addison!” She shouted, voice breaching hysterical immediately. She hopped off the bed and yanked her back away from Harry as quickly as she could. “Don’t you dare,” she hissed.
“Ow!” Addie pulled her arm from her. “Harry, I hate to put you on the spot like this—”
“Addie, I swear to God!”
“—but I am rather enjoying walking around the apartment naked with my boyfriend and would love to continue such. Is there anyway—”
“Addison,” Carter chuckled, prying her fingertips from Addie’s arm. “She’s going to stop breathing if you—”
“—you have room in your house for a roommate?”
She slapped a hand over her eyes and felt embarrassment curl through her. “Your girlfriend is a pain in the ass,” she whispered to Carter.
“I know, it’s the best,” he winked even though she couldn’t see it.
“Oh... um... I jus’ got off the moving company t’move your storage pod t’my place,” Harry sounded a little uncomfortable. Awkward. “It’ll be a couple days, but they’ll do it,” she peeked from between her fingers at his face. It was slightly flushed, embarrassed. “If that’s too much though... Niall was jus’ saying y’could have his one-bedroom ‘til y’figure out—”
“She’ll stay with you!” Addie chirped excitedly.
Harry chuckled. “Addie,” he smiled appreciatively. “I want her t’be comfortable.”
She shoved her toward him with so much force Harry had to hold her to keep her from falling unsteadily. “I can’t imagine a place—no, an entire universe—where she would be more comfortable,” Addie assured him.
“That’s a lot to spring on someone, Addie,” she snapped, glaring at her; her face half covered from where she had buried it into Harry’s fresh T-shirt brought along with new belongings for her as well.
“I don’t mind, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head encouragingly. “Was going t’suggest it as we walked out.”
*
They all gathered in front of the hospital. Planning their next stop. “I uh...” she shook her head. “I gotta make a lot of phone calls.”
“Can we meet up for dinner?” Carter suggested.
Everyone nodded, full of smiles and excitement. “Do you guys need help back to your hotel?” Louis asked.
“You guys got a hotel? You should have stayed with us!” Sarah frowned.
As the plans were discussed, Addie gave her a huge hug, kissed the side of her head then pulled away and looked at her. She was tired, probably still filled with a bit of smoke, but Addie thought she looked more like the picture still on her fridge than she had the entire time she’d known her.
“I’m so proud of you for jumping,” Addie bloomed with pride which made her cheeks flush pink.
“Shut. Up,” Eleanor laughed.
“Of course you read that,” Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Oh man,” Niall groaned. “What was it? Three months?”
“That’s generous. Maybe one month,” Mitch was scrolling on his phone. “Last message I have about it is a month and a half ago,” he held it up for proof.
“It was extremely well written,” Harry grumbled bitterly.
“What was well written?” Carter asked winking at her. Addie for once was silent. Watching her carefully for her reaction which was currently stoically still.
“Harry, who has never picked up a magazine a day in his life,” Eleanor explained to Carter. “Was at the doctor’s office. Losing his mind as he always was and decided to leaf through one of the magazines on the coffee table in the waiting room.”
“He then proceeded to read us the article no less than twenty times in a row and explain everything he thought about it. How it reminded him of you. How he wanted to jump so badly and reset everything in his life,” Niall completed.
She turned to look at Harry; head tilted curiously. A pucker between her eyebrows as she examined him like she was seeing him for the first time.
“It sounded like you,” his cheeks turned pink. “M’sorry, kitten; it was jus’... so good. Sounded like something you would ramble about and then scribble down during a rainstorm. It reminded me so much of you... s’like I had something t’hold onto.”
Carter snickered watching the panic on her face ensue.
“Well, Harry. I’ll tell you why it reminded you so much of her. But you already figured it out.”
She looked at her feet, face burning with embarrassment that another six people knew some of her most inner thoughts. Her anonymity for something that broke her to write because she missed Harry wasn’t a full secret anymore.
The group remained quiet. Silent except for cars rolling through the parking lot as everyone processed what Addie said.
“You’re joking,” Eleanor whispered finally. “You... you wrote that?”
“She did,” Carter smiled. “In our English class. Addie insisted she publish it.”
“You used a pen name?” Niall asked. She nodded silently, embarrassed that they had read arguably one of her most personal ideas. “Wow,” he whispered. “What are the chances?”
“I told all of you,” Harry wrapped his arm around her tighter. Probably tighter than someone with worry about their lungs needed to be held, but he kissed the top of her hair once more. “I knew it was you,” he whispered in her ear.
“It’s framed in his house,” Louis said. “That is insane.”
“Soulmate stuff, I guess,” she shrugged, cheeks still tinted red. But the only person who heard was Harry. Which was really how she meant it to be anyway.
*A few days later*
“Jesus Christ,” she snapped and dropped the end of the couch to the storage pod floor again. Harry ran to her side and pulled her hand from her mouth to examine her injured index finger.
“I thought y’were kidding,” he smirked. “Some magnet y’got in there,” he pressed his lips against her digit and then her forehead.
She shook her head. “It’s ridiculous!” she frowned.
“I got it, love. You shouldn’t be lifting anything heavy anyway,” Mitch reminded her and put a hand on her shoulder as he gently nudged the pair of them out of the way. Niall winked at her as he lifted the other end while Harry examined the small puncture wound as seriously as if she had split her aorta right in front of him.
Quietly, they were alone while their friends moved all her stuff into Harry’s little house. Sarah and Eleanor distracted Mrs. Peterson while the boys moved the heavy stuff. And Harry just looked at her finger. “Are you sure about this?” She whispered.
“Please don’t make me beg,” he murmured. “I will,” he nodded. “I’ll beg and scream and fight if y’want me to,” he squeezed her hand and dropped it between them and smiled at her. “But I don’t want to.”
She smiled back, squeezed his hand, and stepped closer to him. He wrapped his arm around the top of her shoulders. Gently, she shook her head, dropped her head against the front of his shoulder. “No... I don’t want that. I’m just... it’s a lot. I’ve only been in town three weeks,” she reminded him.
“But baby,” he sighed, kissed her temple. The way he spoke made her sleepy. The way he held her made her feel so safe—like she could fall asleep standing right next to him.
It would take a bit of work. Reassurance that she was enough. Part of him felt guilty that he hadn’t clued her in on that fact long before. It seemed like it was known. The two of them fit so completely together he never thought he would need to remind her that she was enough. More than enough. More than he could ever dream of or want.
But he would do it. They were together. He would reassure her every day. He would try his hand at poetry if he needed to do it. If it meant that she would stay and not worry.
Harry met her gaze, held it for so long part of her really wondered if she had fallen asleep. “You’re home.”
And she saw it all. Always had. She saw their friends hosting or coming to cookouts with little ones that would expand their little friend circle. She saw Harry carrying her to bed because she refused to fall asleep in the bedroom without him while his shift wasn’t over. She saw the books and pens and notebooks that he would buy for her even though she was certain she wouldn’t fill them all (even if she did).  She saw the little ones that had Harry’s green eyes and his perfect curls. She hoped they’d get his dimples and his kindness. The world deserved more Harry. There would be too many wooden chairs that Harry would make, and she would help stain, for them to put in their yard. There was everything in her little vision. All centered around the most perfect person she knew. The person she was lucky to call her soulmate. Even after all that time.
If it all was a dream like Harry had suggested in the hospital, then it was worth it, because the moment she woke up she would run back to him. She would beg and scream and fight if she needed to.
Because this was everything. It was more than she could ever want.
“Do you mean, I’m home? Like I’m at home or I am home. Like home is me?” She asked.
“You already know the answer t’that, my love.”
It was the most she would ever need.
--
general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach
@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals
@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams
@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland
@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles
@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter
@kissinthekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles
@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921
@fangirl7060 @triski73 @vikiii07 @prettygurl-2009 @madstyles3204
@angeldavis777
most: @harryspirate
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
If you like this, check out my masterlist here
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vikkirosko · 6 months
Note
ah uh i don't really send writing requests, but i think your writing is pretty nice and i like it so could i make a request for the The V's (separately) with a exterminator reader? im sorry if its vague or far-fetched, i don't do requests often !! 。゚・ (>﹏<) ・゚。
Headcanons Exterminator
💞 Valentino x Reader 🚬
Valentino often visited a variety of places and probably would have had a lot of problems if it wasn't for you. You accompanied Valentino and were often the one who solved conflicts. However, only Valentino knew your secret. You were an exterminator who decided to escape from Heaven and start a new life in Hell. You were great at it. You had a job and a man who, although far from perfect, was your man
Valentino liked it when you spent time together, and especially when you didn't hide your wings. He liked the fact that you listened to him and didn't pretend to listen, as Vox sometimes did. You gave Valentino a lot of your attention and he didn't bother to show you his feelings even if you weren't alone. Your relationship was not a secret and no one dared to say anything against it
Valentino knew that you could stand up for yourself, but still, every time someone insulted you, he got angry and was ready to start a fight. When someone threatened him, you became the one who solved the problem. It was enough for you to whisper a few frightening words to make the enemy afraid, and a frightening smile appeared on your lips
You and Valentino together were a frightening couple who could shake the peace in Hell. You were a fighter with a lot of experience and Valentino, being an overlord, had power. However, he was in no hurry to change anything. He was satisfied with what your life was like now, and if he was satisfied with everything, then so were you
❤ Velvette x Reader 🤍
You and Velvette met a few years after Alastor disappeared. During one of the days of extermination, she was attacked by several angels, but something happened that she did not expect. One of the exterminator attacked the others and killed them. You took off your mask, looking at her with a grin. However, you didn't attack her. When she asked what you needed, you told her you had a deal for her. You didn't want to go back to Heaven, and if she helps you start a life in Hell, then you will be her protector and help her
You and Velvette have made a deal. She even hid from Valentino and Vox who you were. To them, you were just a sinner who for some reason took a fancy to Velvette and now you often accompanied her. Velvette liked the way you looked and sometimes you tried on the outfits she created. She claimed that it was part of your deal, but in fact she just liked to see how the outfits she created matched your appearance
It was no secret that you and Velvette had a special relationship. She took a huge number of photos of you together and posted them online. You didn't mind it, watching with a grin the pleased expression on her face, realizing that your joint photos gave the effect she was waiting for. You liked the way you looked together and you didn't mind that you continued to be together
There was no way back to Heaven for you, but you didn't want to go back either. You liked how your life in Hell became and with the appearance of Velvette in your life. Even if your former colleagues find out about it and you become a traitor to them. You didn't care if they tried to kill you. You were willing to take the risk to stay together with Velvette
🖥 Vox x Reader 📱
Vox watched Pentagram City with cameras and drones. He had to know everything in advance to keep the situation in his hands. It was thanks to one of his drones that he saw you during the extermination day. He saw you take off your helmet and soon disappeared into the alley. It was the first time Vox saw exterminator's face, but he remembered that face, and immediately recognized it when he saw you on one of the streets of the city. He understood that either you were a deserter or a spy, and he was going to use the knowledge of your secret
Vox instructed to find you and soon you were in his office. You pretended to be a sinner and your face remained the same indifferent when he said that he knew your secret. Vox didn't hesitate to blackmail you with knowing the truth about you, and you knew that sinners would tear you to pieces if they found out the truth about you, so you agreed to work for him. It wasn't exactly what you expected, but maybe it wasn't such a bad option
Working with Vox wasn't as bad as you thought. You did not notice how the relationship between you has become much better. You sometimes told him about what life was like in Heaven. Now, being in Hell on a permanent basis, you saw that life in Hell, although it was different from the one you were used to, but not so much that your life changed dramatically. Vox liked your character, he liked how tough you could communicate with others. He liked you, even though you've been killing sinners for years
Vox was glad that you were on his side. You knew a lot about angels and it helped him. You were his valuable ally and a person close to him. He didn't know why you left Heaven, but even if he might be in danger, you were the one who wouldn't let him get hurt. You, overlord and exterminator, together were a strong alliance that could do a lot in Hell
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Text
Brotherly Love. D.W J.T
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Damian Al-Ghul/Wayne × platonic!twin!reader!
Gender Neutral
This is roughly based on the film "Son of Batman", it just includes the other batbros that were not in the film, and the reader does not know Jason.
Brotherly Love Masterlist <- right here
Warnings:mentions of death/assassins/scars/insecurity
Summary: You and your twin brother go to live with your father after your grandfather's death, but time at Wayne Manor brings soon jeopardizes your relationship.
There is probably some grammatical errors.
~☆~
Tragedy had struck your family, when Deathstroke rained an army upon your home, killing hundreds of your families men, including your uncle, and grandfather. Your mother had hurriedly taken you and your brother Damian away from your home, guiding you to America where you would meet your father for the first time.
A tight feeling had bubbled up in your chest, perhaps it was from you grieving your grandfather, or the sadness from leaving your home, maybe- just maybe it was nervousness from getting to finally meet your father. Your fists tightened as you thought about what was happening, Damian who was sitting next to you took notice immediately, and moved to rest one of his hands upon your own, the contact brought you out of your daze, and you turned to look at Damian who was starting dead ahead.
Damian, your beloved twin brother, whom you loved very deeply. He was your anchor for when the days got too tough, you were a trained assassin you were meant to be cold, but alas you were still a child, and he was too.
Sometimes when the two of you were younger you would sneak out of your respective rooms and get into the other's bed, Talia pretend not to notice, and would never dare to speak a word about it. You and Damian would always read books in his room when you both had time away from training, you'd huddle together as one of you voiced what was happening in the books you read, and eventually whichever one of you was being read to would fall asleep upon the other, the one that was reading doing the same not too long after.
On the nights that Ra's would allow dessert to be served after dinner Damian would give you whatever treat was given to him, he was never one for sweets. Every once and a while the pair of you would venture down to the village or around the Al-Ghul grounds, and talk about anything and everything.
You were brought back out of your thoughts as Talia announced that you had arrived in Gotham, she had told you and Damian to wait whilst she retrieved your father.
Talia had come back with a man, dressed in all black, he had a cape and a mask, he was muscular, not too tall and not too short. You and Damian stood side by side as your mother attempted to flirt with him before breaking the news of Ra's Al-Ghul's death, and how the assassins that killed him would more likely come back. Talia then brought back the curtain that you and Damian hid behind, and finally told him that you were his children.
~☆~
Bruce had tried to bond with the two of you at first, you and Bruce would go out to eat and go shopping, whilst Damian would spend time in the Batcave and accompany Bruce to work. When you had the time you and Damian would still huddle up in the giant library and read to each other at night.
~☆~
After some time Bruce eventually had to stop going on your outings together, too busy as Batman and as a businessman. Instead of Bruce, you started going out with Alfred to visit the shops, before you knew it Damian had become Robin and started going out with Bruce into the night and wouldn't arrive back at the Manor until early morning. A downside to being Robin meant that Damian kept sadly turning down your attempts to hang out, instead he spent even more time in the Batcave either training or doing research. You had already attempted to ask Tim to hangout but he was too busy with Wayne enterprises plus keeping up with his own nighly activities as Red Robin, you also knew there would be no reason to call Dick he was all the way in Blüdhaven also to invested in his own police duties and his Nightwing persona, Jason, whom you hadn't met yet was also off of the table, he and Bruce had to many disagreements between the two of them. So instead you settled for either being alone reading one of the thousand books in the library or helping Alfred with household things, and he was more than happy to spend time with you.
After many futile attempts at trying to get Damian to spend time with you he started to get agitated, telling you to just leave him alone for the night, one night he finally had enough and snapped. It was an hour before Batman and Robin would go out for patrol, dinner had finished not to long before, you stayed back to help Alfred clean up, Damian went with Bruce to go set up things for when they leave, it had been weeks since you had some one on one time with Damian so you went down to the batcave to ask him to read, or really to do anything.
You walked down the stairs that led to the batcave, Damian was taking care of his weapons and Bruce was looking at the computer, you creeped up next to Damian and watched as he polished the baterang's. Of course Damian had seen you, he was an assassin he always knew what was happening around him, he let a sigh come out from his nose, and shifted his weight to the foot that was farthest from you as an attempt to distance himself from you.
"What do you want (Y/N)?" He questioned, finally breaking the silence that had been in the batcave. "I just wanted to see if you would like to join me for an activity, we can do whatever you like." You confessed, hopeful that he would say yes.
Damian set down the baterang he was holding and threw his head back in annoyance.
"Damian has to get ready for patrol (Y/N)." Bruce butted in as he sensed Damians change in attitude, turning around in the chair that he sat in he watched as you glanced at him before looking back at Damian, then back to him.
"But that's in and hour, I just wanted to borrow hi-" You tried to reason before being interrupted by an angry looking Damian. "(Y/N) WILL YOU EVER LEAVE ME ALONE, IM BUSY!" He yelled out at you, your eyebrows knit together as you stared at him, never had he ever yelled at you, let alone been angry at you. Bruce had jumped up from his seat and began walking to you guys to make sure nothing else happens between you.
You had started to back away from Damian, still staring at him with shock on your face, Damians still portraying anger as he stared back. You kept backing up until your feet hit the stairs, as they touched the stairs you turned and fled back up to the Manor, running past Alfred who was bringing tea to Bruce and Damian, all the way until you reached your room. You climbed into bed, curling up under the blankets, your mind was going a million miles per hour, Damian had never been mad at you, were you really that annoying? You just wanted to spend time with him like you've done all your life, was that anxious feeling you had before your arrival to Gotham, some sort of prediction?
Apparently sometime during your heartbroken breakdown you must have passed out, cause you awoke to a knock on the door, you sighed as you got up to answer it, hoping that it would be Damian trying to apologize, as you reached the door and opened it you were met with alfred.
"I've brung you some cookies Mx.(Y/N)." He said as he held put a tray, you grabbed them out of his hands and muttered out a "thank you".
"I do not know what happened, but I am here if you need to talk." He told you, hoping that you weren't as emotionally constipated as the rest of this family, you observed the older man's face, looking for any sign to show that he was lying, but his face held sincerity.
"Damian-" you started, but ended up cutting yourself off. "-yelled at me, he's never done that before." You confessed in a whisper, a little embarrassed that this is what has gotten you so worked up. "Would you like me to talk to him?" The brit questioned, ready to stand up for you.
"No, it's okay Alfred." You rushed out, Damian should apologize on his own terms, once he realized what he did.
"Thanks for the cookies, Alfred." You sighed before whispering out a "goodnight" and closing the door.
~☆~
A week later and Damian has yet still not apologized, you had avoided him the entire week as well, and he didn't seem to care. Tim had come by to talk to Bruce and asked if you wanted to go hangout before he left, you told him no, the insecurity of being annoying clouding your mind. Bruce had even come up to your room, and explained that Damian was just "frustrated from working", Bruce even invited you to go out and eat with him like you did when you first arrived, you soon turned him down. Alfred too made attempts to spend time with you, inviting you to cook or garden with him, but all you wanted was to be with your brother.
~☆~
This went on for a whole month, you avoiding Damian, and him not even trying to apologize to you. You had eventually left your room to eat with the family again, and would sit in the library or garden reading a book. You had hoped that your mother would come back to you, and take you back home, praying that she had gotten her revenge for Ra's and killed Deathstroke already, you've waited, and waited, and waited, but she still hasn't come back yet, there was no trace of her. You weren't worried that anything had happened to her, she was the child of Ra's Al-Ghul, The Demons Head, he'd been alive for over 500 years, he trained your mother, of course she was fine, you just wished she would come and see you upset, and try to help.
~☆~
After a month and a half since you last talked to Damian, you walked down the dark stairs of the enormous Wayne Manor, heading towards the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, upon your arrival you grabbed a mug, then put a kettle on the stove. The kettle whistled to announce that the water was done boiling, you place a tea bag into your mug before pouring the water on top, you grabbed your personal likings of sugar and cream to put in it(im southern i literally only put sugar in mine.) , and grabbed a spoon to stir it all together. Once your tea was done you picked up your mug and made your way to the library, on your way there you passed the dining room and seen Alfred sitting with a man, he had black hair with a white streak in the front, a scar running across the side of his face, he was muscular, and wearing a black leather jacket, and black jeans, you caught sight of his eyes, something in them looked familiar, kind of like that mystical green hugh that the Lazarus pit gave your grandfather. Maybe you were going crazy, you've never seen this man in your life, you would know if he had access to the Lazarus pit, you shook your head to get rid of any curious thoughts you had, before glancing at the mysterious man one last time and heading to the library.
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There will be a part two to this, maybe even a part three, I hope you enjoyed!
(Part two has been posted!)
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moonlightspencie · 1 year
Text
… Angels Roll Their Eyes
Description: A new recruit to the BAU catches Reid’s eye. Unfortunately for the both of them, she has a past with someone very close to him. Are they willing to keep secrets just to keep one another? (TWO-PART MINISERIES)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
Warnings: alcohol consumption, reader gets a minor injury, sexual references/content (i’ll accept 16+ because its definitely not more than pg-13 material but writing anything sexy makes me feel weird if i know teenagers are reading it)
Word Count: 4.2k
A/N: READER’S POV!! this is where the bridge kicks in teehee. (also savannah is more of a minor character at this point, nobody really knows she and derek are together)
Devils Roll the Dice… (click for part 1)
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I walked up to the figure illuminated by vending machine lights. His head was down as he looked through the options, not really intending on buying anything at all. I slowed my steps on the approach, just barely catching his attention before I was right next to him.
“Hey,” he said quietly, giving me a soft smile.
I grinned in full, not bothering to hide my feelings. Nobody was around, anyways.
“Hey. You come here often?”
He laughed. “Only this once. Waiting around for this girl who said she’d meet me here.”
“Sounds like she’s into you.”
He nodded. “I think so.”
I grabbed his hand, attempting to pull him closer. He took the advantage to bring me in instead, my back against the hard plastic of the machine’s display. Rather than kissing me then and there, he leaned in, lips unbearably close to my ear.
“I feel like we’re sneaking around past our parents,” he said quietly.
“You never got that ‘teenage dream’ experience. Maybe this is your second chance.”
He smiled. “Maybe.”
His lips pressed to mine, silencing our whispered words for good.
We were far from teenagers at this point, but he was still a dream. I found myself feeling giddy at every turn, completely ignoring the impending doom that loomed over our relationship.
We both knew we weren’t trying hard enough to hide it. Neither of us knew what would happen when it finally came to light.
Until that happened, we’d pretend it wasn’t in the cards at all. Summer love was still sweet, even being far removed from the romanticism of anything resembling the movie-loves I’d grown accustomed to religiously watching. This was somehow better. Maybe because it was more realistic. Probably because it was always more thrilling to live it out.
I smiled into our kiss, feeling his wandering hands trying to get themselves under my legs to lift me up. Sadly, we never got the chance.
We heard footsteps coming down the hall quickly, breaking apart and trying to look as nonchalant as possible as we mindlessly gazed at the snacks inside the machine.
“I’m thinking M&Ms,” I noted, almost laughing.
Spencer hid a smile. He clicked the right buttons right as our visitor reached us. The little package dropped, our secret still somehow concealed from a slightly-confused Aaron Hotchner as he stood behind us waiting for his turn.
“Night,” I said, giving a slight nod.
“Goodnight.”
Spencer followed behind me, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious that he didn’t have some cheap snack of his own in hand as we walked past. I rationalized that he looked too tired to notice, anyways.
We wound up back in my room, giggling with each other like kids at a sleepover. I made him do a face-mask with me while he made me listen to a lecture on how the hyaluronic acid in the formula provided moisture for our skin. I gladly listened with a smile on my face, and he happily accepted a hundred kisses as I wiped his face clean afterwards.
We laid on my bed, mindlessly talking about whatever came to mind. He took my hand in his, running his thumb across the back of my hand in repeated motions as we talked.
“What do you say we stop hiding us?” I asked at last, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve established myself on the team at this point, I think.”
He was quiet for a moment, still running his thumb over my hand.
“I don’t know. I think it’s better that we keep it quiet.”
I paused, taking in his response. I’d hoped that after a while we wouldn’t be hiding anymore. As much fun as it was to sneak around, it could be utterly exhausting. But, if he still wanted to, I’d agree.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he questioned, turning his head to look at me.
I looked back at him, giving him a small smile and a nod.
“Yeah. If that’s what you want, it’s fine by me.”
He smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I sprung up a moment after, standing at the foot of the bed. I grabbed my phone, clicking around on the screen as he propped himself up to look at me. I held out a hand to him.
“Dance with me, pretty boy,” I sang out, hitting shuffle on one of my playlists.
He quickly obliged, not wasting a second in worrying about whether or not he could actually dance. He knew I’d be there to guide whatever movements he didn’t know how to do yet.
Whispers of ‘are you sure?’
I smiled at him, admiring the way he payed way too much attention to how he moved. I made it a goal to loosen him up. After a minute, he was letting me guide, leaving his body to its own devices. He was really better off for it.
I can see us lost in the memory
We swayed along to the song, silently praying it wasn’t some kind of sick foreshadowing of how our summer would end. I pretended not to care much about the lyrics. He pretended not to listen to most of them.
August sipped away like a bottle of wine
Cause you were never mine
“Do you think that’ll happen to us?” I asked, still smiling past the gravity of the question.
“Of course not,” he answered with finality.
Wanting was enough
For me it was enough
To live for the hope of it all
I took his hands, the both of us spinning around in circles with smiles on our faces that were real and genuine despite a nagging feeling that something might be wrong.
I knew mine had a lot to do with very real feelings I was scared to talk about. I was too afraid to think about what may have filled his head. It was really none of my business, anyways, so I cleared my head of it all. Wanting was enough. I didn’t have to doubt that. It had been enough for two months so far. That had to count for something.
Weeks later and it was August. That lingering question of “will it last” was ever-present in my head. I just kept pushing it down. Fuck compartmentalization. That question was locked in a dungeon, chained to a wall, and I intended on keeping it there until we were either burning to the ground or eloping in Vegas.
Those seemed like the most viable options, anyway. An extremely-attached, yet no-strings kind of situationship could really only go one of two ways.
I almost wanted him to hate me at that point. It would certainly be a thrilling end if he revealed that he never cared about me and was only doing all of this to screw with my head. Almost like he was a spy, trying to uncover whatever boring substance made up my psyche.
I knew that was… Slightly less realistic, though.
I probably shouldn’t have been thinking about it so thoroughly, especially since it was merely theoretical. It would have caused a lot less mental work. It also might have prevented me from being off my game.
I had a habit of being a bit clumsy when we weren’t in life-threatening situations, but messing up while we were on a case? Unbearably embarrassing.
I looked up as my arm hit the wall to stop me from falling over my own two feet, disgusting to find that an exposed nail head had given me quite the scratch. It looked pretty gnarly, and frankly I was thanking my lucky stars I’d already gotten a tetanus booster after my last injury. However, I probably couldn’t go much further with my arm bleeding. Especially if they didn’t necessarily need me. It was one man they were going after, and we didn’t even know if he was in this house.
I voiced to Hotch what had happened, and he told me to leave if I was safe enough to do so. JJ and three officers occupied the house anyways, so I booked it out of there.
I cleaned myself up as well as I could with the first aid kit in the car, planning on doing a better job when I got back to the precinct. The house we were in turned out to be a bust anyways. Our unsub was still in the wind. He clearly hadn’t even been in the house in weeks. It was wildly frustrating.
Until Miss Penelope Garcia called in to save the day as she always did. She let JJ and I know that the others were currently heading across town to an apartment that she was certain housed the unsub and our most recent victim.
“Finally,” I sighed, leaning my head back in the seat.
JJ was quiet, and I looked away from my driving to see her. She smiled at me when I turned my head.
“What?” I questioned with a laugh.
“Can I ask you something?” she inquired, sitting up a little more straight. “It’s a little personal.”
I quirked a brow. “You can ask, but I reserve my right to remain silent.”
She laughed. “Alright. Fair enough. Uh, I’m just wondering about you and a certain team member.”
I swallowed. Uh oh.
“Okay?”
“I’ve just— I’ve heard rumors, and I wanted to ask you directly about them rather than letting the rumor-mill run.”
I nodded slowly. “What have you heard?”
“Word on the street is that you and Morgan used to be an item.”
Oh.
“Ah,” I replied with a chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, we were a thing. But that was a while ago, and I’m pretty certain we’ve moved past it.”
“Right, yeah,” she nodded. “You know, he has a secret girlfriend now.”
I smiled, glancing at her. “Really?”
She nodded again. “Yeah. He’s been trying to hide it, but Garcia loves to talk.”
I laughed, thinking of the bubbly, well-meaning woman. She had a hard time with secrets, though she tried her hardest.
“That’s good. He deserves to be happy, he was always a great guy,” I said.
“Just gotta look past all of the mindless flirting and the jock-persona,” JJ noted jokingly.
I hummed in agreement, turning down the road that would lead us to the precinct at last. It was a good thing, too, since my arm was really starting to irritate me now. My discomfort must have been obvious, as JJ looked at me once again.
“You okay?” she questioned. “That cut on your arm looks pretty painful.”
I looked at it, noticing there was some bleed-through on the bandage. I sighed, not looking forward to cleaning it up.
“I’ll live. It just itches pretty bad right now, and it’s fairly sore.”
“I can help you when we’re back at the station. You shouldn’t have to do that alone.”
“Thanks Jayje,” I said, resting a hand on her arm briefly.
She covered my hand with her own, giving me another smile. It felt like she could see through me on occasion. She had quickly become one of my closest friends on the team, which took me a little by surprise. She seemed a little too unironic-girlboss when I first met her, but the second Penelope helped me see her true colors… We were fast friends.
I almost found myself telling her about Spencer and I on multiple occasions, but always ended up thinking better of the idea. That moment was one of the times I almost said something.
Of course, I thought twice about it, but she gave me that look like she knew what I was thinking.
I found an out when we pulled into the precinct, and took up her offer to help me with properly fixing up my arm. We made light conversation as I tried like hell not to focus on the stinging pain that occurred every time she probed at the cut.
We did whatever we could to help after she was finished. At least until the rest of the team showed up. But, to my delight, we rounded out our night by heading home and going straight to the bar.
I didn’t often let myself get well and truly drunk. Especially not when I was around Spencer. I knew I had been staring at him once I downed my sixth shot, but by the third mixed drink he was pulling me out of the bar. He threw out some kind of excuse that he was tired and I needed a ride home.
“What’s up with you?” he asked after bidding a goodnight to everyone else. “You’ve been acting weird, and now you’re getting wasted.”
I was annoyed by the comment, but there was concern in his voice over everything else. I leaned into him as we walked towards my car.
“I just wanted to have some fun, Spencie.”
He sighed, continuing to help me walk until we reached my vehicle.
“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, helping me into the backseat of the car.
I slumped over into the seat as he did, just barely letting him put the seatbelt around me and click it into place. He was fairly quiet as he did so, which really only furthered my concern. Even drunk I knew well enough to see that something was off with him. He shut the door, and I let myself drop against the seat, listening as he opened and closed the driver’s side door.
I glanced up, seeing him adjust the mirror to keep an eye on me in the seat rather than the road. It was dangerous and stupid. And so sweet it made my stomach flip.
I let my mind wander as he turned on the radio, thought he kept it low, and started driving. I thought of him and the summer we’d shared thus far. Three months is nothing in the grand scheme of life, but it felt like everything when I was with him. He felt like everything in that time. I hated keeping him a secret so much.
Maybe I shouldn’t have drank so much.
I let out the tears I was holding back, sniffling as the snot starting trying to weasel its way out of my system. If I was going to cry like a baby, I wasn’t going let myself get all gross and grimy. That’s where I drew the line. I’d make sure at least some of my dignity was preserved.
He looked at me in the rear view mirror, brows furrowing.
“Y/N?”
I sniffled.
“Yeah?” I managed, knowing I sounded absolutely pathetic.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft. “Why are you crying?”
I met his eyes as he continually glanced at me in the mirror. I had to have looked ridiculous, laying on the backseat with tears streaming down my face for seemingly no reason.
“I’m fine.”
He deadpanned. “You’re sobbing in the backseat of your own car.”
“I’m fine,” I said again through tears, voice coming out much more whiny than I’d intended.
He said my name as a warning, seeing through my… untruth. I felt more happy calling it that than anything else. I looked at him, admiring his pretty face through the mirror as he looked on at the road ahead. Maybe it was a good idea for him to practically drag me out of the bar. I could be a messy drunk, and I definitely would’ve outed us by wanting to be messy with him in front of the team if I’d drank any more.
Keeping secrets sucked. It was stupid and annoying. Especially when he was so hot.
I whined out loud at the though, squeezing my eyes shut.
“What?” he whined back, a laugh on his lips.
“I’m sick of this.”
“Sick of what, baby?”
I sighed, wiping away tears that kept on rolling.
“Keeping secrets. I don’t want to have to keep hiding this just to keep you.”
He sighed to match mine. “I know.”
“I don’t want to do it anymore.”
“Honey, we don’t have much of a choice.”
“But I’m going to explode if I can’t kiss you in public anymore.”
“No, you won’t,” he said, looking at me again.
I pouted. “I will.”
“You’re drunk, baby. We’ll get you into bed and you’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“Will you come to bed with me?”
He smiled softly. “Of course.”
I felt the car starting to slow, and though my vision was a little blurry, I saw the green light ahead turn to yellow. I looked at him again, a small smile coming to my tear-soaked face.
“Spencie?”
He hummed in question, not yet looking at me.
“Can I tell you something really stupid?”
“I’d love nothing more.”
I paused for a moment, letting my inebriated state wipe away any inhibitions I may have had otherwise. The car stopped at the light at last. I smiled softly.
“For what it’s worth, I love you,” I mumbled. “And it’s the worst fucking thing you could hear right now.”
I hoped he’d say it back, though part of me expected him to pretend he hadn’t heard me at all.
I definitely didn’t expect him to look at me through the mirror with a devilish smirk.
“I know you do,” he stated. “And it’s not the worst thing I‘ve heard by a long shot.”
I bit my lip to hold back a smile as he pulled away from the light. We ended up back at my apartment, Spencer still helping me stumble the whole way there. I pushed him back against the door as soon as we were inside, but he held my wrists to stop me from feeling him up. I pouted.
“Ow,” I said, pulling my injured arm from him.
“You okay, princess?”
I nodded, quiet. He simply looked at me, certainly not believing me.
“Why are you doing that?” I questioned.
His eyes widened. “W-why am I stopping you?”
I nodded silently, still pouting.
“Baby— You’re drunk. I’m not doing anything with you while you’re drunk.”
I dropped my hands, whining as I leaned my full body into his. He wrapped his arms around me, walking— more so waddling— with me until we reached my couch.
“I just wanna kiss you,” I grumbled into his chest, letting him drop me onto the cushions.
I stared up at him, trying to look alluring. I probably just looked a little out of my mind.
“I love kissing you, but not while you’re so drunk you can’t even stand up by yourself without almost tipping over,” he said, smiling softly as he crouched between my legs.
He leaned up, softly kissing my forehead. He kept my face in his hands, looking at me. He let one hand drop, running it across my arm. I pulled back again, feeling the discomfort in my arm from my earlier injury.
He furrowed his brow, looking down at my arm as it was covered by my sleeve.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I’m fine.”
“You pulled away twice when I touched your arm.”
“It’s okay.”
He sighed, grabbing my arm and gently moving my sleeve up over the bandage. He let out a sharp breath.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” he asked, trying not to be annoyed with my concealment. “When did you get hurt?”
I deflated. “Today.”
“How?”
“I got cut. Fell into a nail in the wall.”
He ran a hand over his face. “You should’ve told me.”
“Why?”
He glanced up, furrowing his brow. He was clearly annoyed with me, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel terribly about it.
“Because I want to know when you’re hurt.”
I swallowed. Okay, that made me feel a little guilty.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“It is. That’s a pretty big bandage.”
I was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to worry.”
“It’s my job to worry about you.”
“No, it isn’t.”
He quirked a brow. “Why not?”
“We aren’t even like… A real couple,” I said, closing my eyes. “All we do is sneak around and you don’t ever want to tell anyone and I just don’t think that we can keep acting like it’s gonna last forever if we can’t even tell friends about—”
“It’s not my fault you dated Derek first,” he said, cutting me off.
I scoffed. “He doesn’t even care. That was forever ago and he has his secret girlfriend now anyways.”
“You wanted to keep this secret in the first place.”
“Well I’m sick of it,” I yelled. “I’m sick of keeping secrets and I’m sick of you not caring that I’m in love with you.”
“Not caring?” he asked, voice raising as he leaned back on his knees.
“You didn’t even say it back when I said it.”
“Because you’re drunk! How am I supposed to know if you even mean it?”
“Because I do!”
I groaned, my head dropping back against the cushions. My buzz was starting to wane, and I wished it would hold on a little longer.
“You were crying in the backseat. We said we’d talk about this tomorrow when you were sobered up. Why don’t we stick to that plan?” he said after a moment.
“Why can’t you just tell me how you actually feel about me?”
“I don’t want to say something and have you not remember it.”
“You’re so annoying,” I grumbled.
He rolled his eyes, standing abruptly. I readied myself for him to leave. I knew I was being childish, but I was tired of keeping everything bottled up. I wouldn’t blame him for dropping me then and there.
But, he reached out a hand.
“Come on. Let’s go to bed.”
I looked up at him curiously, not yet taking his hand.
“You’re staying?”
He nodded. “Of course. I don’t want to leave you like this.”
I reached out, letting him help me up. We walked to my room, quietly undressing. I climbed into bed, watching him as he finally tugged off his pants, leaving him in just his undershirt and boxers. He shut my door, turned off the lights, and got under the covers with me.
He reached out for me under the sheets, tugging me against him. I sighed, resting my hand over his arm.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“It’s okay. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I woke up to a horrible headache, and a nauseous feeling that I was convinced would probably never ever go away. I was 100% certain I would never drink again ever in my life. It was a set rule that I made very quickly.
“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked.
My next rule was that nobody was ever allowed to speak to me again.
I broke it immediately.
“Like crap.”
“Here,” he said, a stupid smile in his voice from the one word.
I opened my eyes to see him offering me a couple of little pills and a glass of water. I took them, grateful, even though I wanted to tell him to leave me alone in the dark for the next few months. Thankfully, he let me lay in his arms until the medication kicked in and took the edge off of my stupid hangover. I was at least thankful we didn’t have work that day.
My head was buried in his chest when I felt his lips against the top of my head. He rubbed my back, coaxing me back to the real world. Unfortunately I’d been a mess in the real world the night prior and did not want to deal with the aftermath.
“Baby,” he said quietly. “Are you alright?”
“Mhm,” I hummed, leaning back a little. Just enough to see him. “Medicine helped.”
“Good,” he smiled. “I was a little worried. You drank a lot more than you usually do last night.”
“I know. I was a mess.”
He smirked. “A little bit.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, brushing hair out of his face. “I’m sorry we argued.”
He was quiet for a second, then perked up a little when his phone dinged.
“You hungry?”
“I really don’t want to go out, love.”
He laughed softly. “I know. I ordered in while you were laying down.”
“You’re a dream, Spencer Reid.”
We tumbled out of bed, Spencer insisting on preparing everything after he thanked the delivery person at the door. He made me sit at the table and wait for him, not allowing me to do anything at all until all of the food was laid out. He delighted in it.
“There,” he said, setting down our drink at last as he sat next to me. “And you tried saying I didn’t love you.”
My eyes widened, not expecting him to say anything, but especially not like that. He looked at me.
“What?” he questioned.
“That’s how you’re going to tell me?” I asked with a laugh.
“I thought you knew anyways,” he shrugged. “I do love you, you know?”
I felt heat in my cheeks at that, a smile on my face that I couldn’t control. He smiled right back at me, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand.
“Do you really think we’ll last past summer?” I asked, hoping he was feeling honest.
He sighed, the smallest grin on his face.
“It’d be a cruel end if we didn’t.”
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xxlady-lunaxx · 2 months
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askfmgf having an obamitsu brainrot now..
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Obanai had never believed in love at first sight. He'd never believed in love, period. How could he? He had never had any reason to. There was no reason to start believing now. But when he had met Mitsuri... in retrospect, it wasn't a stretch to say that she had changed his life. Nearly every moment from that day forward he found that the happiest times had been spent with her. His usual doubtfulness on women seemed to dissipate at her nervous smile, asking him with an air of vulnerability where she might be. Though he wasn't sure what to think of her at first glance, he found that she interested him. The fear and urge to run away that usually accompanied any woman was barely a nudge in his mind and the comfort of it all made him relax slightly, guiding her through the Master's estate.
As they walked, she filled in the silence with lovely chatter. She seemed to skip from topic to topic like a child bounding from rock to rock that stretched over a creek. Her enthusiasm was palpable and it almost made him smile himself, though he found that her cascade of conversation was rather overwhelming for a bit. She thanked him for showing the way then went on talking about how she had gotten lost and then led the topic to her four cats and how they had gotten lost in her own house when they'd first arrived. She's explained every little detail about the devilish furballs, saying that they were like the cutest gremlins, shedding so much fur that they could make a whole fur coat out of a day's supply. It amused Obanai to hear her affection for what seemed like the incarnation of the devil himself, especially after she showed him one of the scratches her cats had given her a couple years back that had yet to fade.
As he dropped her off to Kagaya, he had thought he would be relieved to get out of her presence. Instead, he found himself disappointed. She would be at the Hashira meeting that he would attend in a bit, but overall the Hashira didn't make it much of a habit to seek each other out. She probably wouldn't talk to him anymore and had only stuck by because he was showing her the way. His own dismay surprised him and he brought a hand up to stroke Kaburamaru's head, trying to regain his senses. What was this?
Later, at the meeting, Obanai stood by a tree, speaking to Sanemi as they waited for the Master to arrive. When he did, the response was instantaneous as the Hashira bowed simultaneously, dropping to their knees and bowing their heads. Kagaya offered words of greeting and several Hashira returned them before he spoke about the new girl who would be joining the ranks. That was when Mitsuri stepped forward, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. Some of the Hashira gave her uniform curious glances but they welcomed her and she smiled nervously, introducing herself as Mitsuri Kanroji, the Love Hashira.
There was quiet titters to this and Obanai could understand. Love Hashira? It would have to do with her Breathing Technique's name—what, Love Breathing? It seemed almost ridiculous but as she made her way to kneel beside the other Hashira, she flashed Obanai a quick smile of recognition, a hint of relief in her eyes as she siddled next to him, offering a small "hello!" before she knelt. Suddenly, Obanai decided he could understand why she held her title. Love Hashira. It fit.
The thought instantly rose the temperature and he shifted, tugging on his bandages slightly as he felt his cheeks burn. No, what was he thinking? Such impure thoughts for his coworker... And yet, glancing at her nervous posture, he could understand himself, if only slightly. She was beautiful and so... normal, almost carefree despite her job. Really, he admired her ability to smile like this, to feel anxious even when she killed every day.
But then he noticed Sanemi giving him a judging look and he turned quickly away, hoping his hair and mask hid the worst of the blush as he refocused his attention on the Master.
It wasn't that other women weren't pretty or whatever. Certainly, people called Shinobu that many times. But Obanai never felt like this for any of them. They were simply more obstacles he'd have to run around, trying to figure them out. But Mitsuri's openness with him earlier and the way she easily sought him out as reassurance despite only having spoken to him once... Maybe other women were like this, but they were different. Mitsuri was different. Somehow, she was special. Somehow, she made Obanai feel like there was a chance he could trust her. Talk to her. Feel safe with her.
Besides, Shinobu was always so tense. She and Obanai got along fine, but he didn't suppose that he could stand being in the same room as her alone for too long. She was a bit scary, if he was being honest. He didn't understand her. But he felt like he could understand Mitsuri, somehow. With her open-book nature and just the way he could read her in a way that didn't seem as much vulnerable and weak than safe. Trustworthy, even.
He hadn't believed in love at first sight before, yes. He hadn't believed he could love either. But obviously, it took less than he'd thought to be proven wrong. Rollercoaster ride or not, he felt that this would all be worth it. He didn't know what it would be worth, yet, but he just knew. Mitsuri was going to be worth it.
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vxntagedior · 2 years
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stoned stoner
summary | you and ajax get high together
pairing | ajax petropolus x fem!reader
warning | marijuana use, drugs, fluff, puppy love
word count | 668
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Ajax was a walking stereotype, a gorgon who was able to stone people who were always stoned, the gorgons didn’t have the named stoners because of the snakes on their head. 
Sitting in his dorm, one that was a single, Ajax getting lucky this year, the two of you were laying down in the bean bag in the corner of his room. You looked over to your boyfriend, seeing him finishing up rolling before turning back to you. 
You’re so pretty A.” Your eyes were droopy, your voice sultry, you knew that the weed was starting to affect your brain but you’d never lie to Ajax. 
“Yeah.” He smiled, lighting the end of the blunt. Bringing his lips to the opposite side, his eyes closed, taking in a deep breath, before blowing out the smoke. “C’mere baby.”
You leaned closer to him, letting him place the blunt between your lips, watching as you took your own breath before pulling away. His face still in front of yours, as you exhaled, the smoke pushed towards his face. 
Giggling softly, you leaned into him, your nose poking against his. 
“You gonna kiss me or what?” He asked. 
Never answering, you pressed your lips against his, tasting the mariguna on your tongue and his before pulling apart. 
Just before you could say something, a knock to his door stopped the two of you. In a panic, you took the blunt with you as you hid in the bathroom hoping to hide from whoever was knocking. 
Ajax on the other hand, maneuvered around his room, quickly spraying a scent that could mask the weed smell along with grabbing a mint. Finally making his way to the door, opening it just ajar to see who it was before opening it fully. 
“Oh.” He sighed seeing Xavier on the other side, “Babe it’s just Xavier.”
Xavier watched you come out of the bathroom, seeing the state of you. 
“Are you guys high?” He asked. 
“No.” You giggled, Xavier seeing straight through your lie. 
“There’s a nightshades meeting tonight, remember.” Both of you looked at each other, clearly forgetting about it.
“Great Bianca’s gonna be mad again.” Ajax whined. 
“Just be there.” Xavier sighed before leaving. 
The two of you tried to clean up the best you could, practically dousing yourself in perfume to mask the scent. 
Walking through the academy past curfew, the two of you were usually careful and quiet, now it was like the two of you were trying to attract all the attention. 
Finally making it to the Poe statue, you stared at Ajax waiting for him to let the two of you in. 
“I-I don’t remember.” He furrowed his brows looking at you, “Do you?”
“No!” Finally the panic started to settle in, “Use your snakes, they probably know.”
Seeing the statue move, you saw Yoko coming out, frown prominent on their face. 
“Get in, now!” They hissed, you both looked at each other trying not to face before following her in. 
“Where have you two been?” Bianca questioned, “Meeting started half an hour ago.”
“We were in Ajax's room.” You said seriously. 
“Don’t tell her that.” Ajax smacked your arm, “she’s gonna snitch.”
Bianca looked at the two of you confused, before turning away. Seeing her in his eyesight, Xavier mouthed to Bianca that two of you were high. 
Taking in a deep breath, Bianca ignored the two of you for the rest of the meeting. 
“I brought snacks.” You wiggled your eyebrows, pulling out the gummies from your jacket. 
“No!” Divina exclaimed, pulling them out of your hands, “No edibles.”
“Fine.” You huffed, leaning back into Ajax’s touch. Bianca and the rest of the Nightshades ignored the two of you leaving you in your own world. 
“Would you love me if I was a worm?” Ajax said seriously. 
“Course.” You smiled. “Would you love me if I was a worm?”
“I don’t know.” Ajax tried not to laugh.
“Ajax!” You slapped his shoulder. 
“Kidding, you know I would.”
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berenwrites · 7 months
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Always and Forever - Stranger Things - Steddie - G
Rating: G | cw: none | tags: fluff, very light angst, Corroded Coffin, rockstars, touring
Prompt: Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy (@forgottenkanji)
A/N: Written for @steddielovemonth day 29. Sorry I disappeared from this challenge halfway through. We lost one of our kitties (she was 14 ½) and I just kind of lost the impetus, but I figured I had to write something for the last day at least. No beta today because it was a last minute thing.
Also on AO3 soon | All My Other Stranger Things Fic
Always and Forever: Love Finds a Way
Steve stared at the phone for a long time after he put it down with the usual ‘I love you’. He spoke to Eddie every day after he got home and before Eddie was due on stage with the rest of Corroded Coffin. The three-month tour was nearly over, and it had done so much for the band’s popularity. Usually, Eddie sounded excited on the phone, even though he professed to miss Steve as much as Steve missed him.
Tonight, hadn’t been like that.
All Steve had been able to hear was the strain in Eddie’s voice. Oh, Eddie had tried to cover it with his usual exuberance, but Steve knew his boyfriend far too well. Something was wrong.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he picked up the phone again. He rang through to the band’s hotel, but this time he asked for a different room number.
“Hello,” came the rather disgruntled answer after a couple of rings.
“Gareth, what’s wrong with Eddie?” Steve asked without beating around the bus.
“Steve?” Gareth asked, although Steve was pretty sure it was just a stall.
“Gareth,” Steve said in a tone that usually had the not-kids-anymore kids jumping to do whatever he was telling them to.
There was a sigh from the other end.
“He’s having nightmares again,” Gareth finally said after a few moments silence.
“What? Why?” Steve asked.
“There was an incident at one of the venues,” Gareth revealed. “Nothing major, just some fans managed to get backstage and thought it would be hilarious to try and scare the big bad metal band. They had these demon masks and party poppers and hid in the green room. Security got rid of them, but it spooked all of us a bit.”
“If I ever get my hands on those assholes, I will fucking kill them,” Steve growled out, mind jumping to the nail bat he still kept under the bed.
The Upside Down was closed off, there hadn’t been any trouble for three years, but he could never quite shake the need to have a weapon to hand. He could only imagine what it was like for Eddie on tour in strange places. After all, Eddie had nearly died.
“They were just stupid kids,” Gareth did his best to sound soothing, but Steve was pretty sure they were actually in agreement.
“Why didn’t he mention it to me?” Steve asked.
“Probably because he didn’t want to worry you,” Gareth replied. “We’ll make sure he’s okay, Steve,” Gareth promised. “We love him too.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Thanks. Don’t tell him I called, okay? He’ll only worry about me worrying.”
“No problem,” Gareth replied. “Sorry, I have to go, the van’s waiting downstairs.”
“Knock ‘em dead,” Steve replied, “and thanks again.”
“See you in a couple of weeks,” Gareth said, and the line clicked off.
Putting the receiver back in the cradle, Steve stared at the phone for a little while longer. It was as he picked it up for the third time, he realised he had made the decision before he had even put it down the first time.
He didn’t stop moving until he was in sitting on the plane. He’d let Robin and Dustin know he was going and asked them to pass on the information. Robin had told him to ‘go get his man’. He’d packed a bag and called a taxi to the airport, barely pausing to make sure he had anything but his wallet. Luckily the girl on the ticket desk had taken pity on him and found him a not completely terrible flight across the country. Staring out the window, all he could think about was Eddie.
By the time he reached the hotel it was the early hours of the morning. He didn’t need to ask reception because he already knew the room number, so he headed straight up. When he stepped out on the right floor a guy in a black suit lurking in the shadows gave him a look. Apparently, someone was taking security seriously now. Corroded Coffin was what some publications liked to call an over-night sensation, even though they had been working hard for several years that didn’t seem to count. You couldn’t turn on a rock station without them coming up. They deserved to be looked after.
Also apparently, someone had briefed the security guy well, because he glared at Steve for a few moments and then appeared to relax. How security knew what he looked like he decided not to ask.
Walking quickly along the hall he got to Eddie’s door. The first thing he noticed was the sound of an acoustic guitar. Not really a surprise after what Gareth had told him. When Eddie couldn’t sleep, he always retreated to his music.
Lifting his hand, Steve knocked.
The guitar playing stopped.
Steve knocked again when no one answered the door.
A second later, the door was yanked inwards, and Eddie was staring at him as if he didn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
“Steve,” Eddie said, eyes big and round.
“Hi,” he replied and gave Eddie a little wave.
“Am I dreaming?” Eddie asked and sounded just a little afraid Steve wasn’t real.
“Nope,” he said, reaching out and touching the side of Eddie’s face.
Eddie almost clocked himself on the side of the head with his guitar, clearly forgetting he was holding it as he tried to cover Steve’s hand with his own. At which point, Steve took the guitar and gently shepherded Eddie back into the room. Once the door was closed, he put the guitar down, dropped his own bag and crowded into Eddie’s personal space.
“Missed you,” he said, taking Eddie’s face in his hands.
The were dark circles under Eddie’s eyes and his skin was pale, but he was just a beautiful to Steve as always.
“Missed you too,” Eddie replied, a tiny smile quirking his lips as he drank Steve in with his eyes. “How?”
“Need you to be happy, Eds,” he said, leaning forward so their foreheads were touching. “That’s all that matters.”
“But…”
“No buts,” he interrupted. “Need to hold you and chase the nightmares away.”
“Who told you?” Eddie asked, but there was no heat to his tone even as he wound his arms around Steve.
“Twisted Gareth’s arm,” Steve confessed, wrapping Eddie in a tight embrace. “Knew something was wrong on the phone earlier.”
“Not as good an actor as I think I am, huh?” Eddie said into his shirt.
“Only to me,” Steve assured him, “and well probably Wayne.”
That startled a laugh out of Eddie, but he didn’t move from his position in Steve’s arms.
“God I love you,” Eddie said.
“Me too,” Steve replied, “always and forever.”
When Eddie had gone off on tour it had seemed like such a big thing, the first reality of the rockstar lifestyle. Steve had worried it would pull them apart, but what he’d realised during the earlier phone call, was it was all irrelevant. All the mattered to him was Eddie. Everything else was just details to be worked out.
He didn’t have a plan. Hadn’t had more than the sure and certain knowledge he needed to get to Eddie. He would work out what to do next when he woke up in the morning with Eddie in his arms. That was the important part.
All My Other Stranger Things Fic
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missmarveledsblog · 1 month
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I'll show you different ( joel miller x reader) part one
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Summary : y/n ( peach ) is learning to be free , learning to be her own woman again. Since life wasn't so easy for girl she ran from one monster into hands of another now back in her hometown back with her grandfather she learns being free is lot harder than she thought but lucky for her there's a couple of brothers help her along the way .
Warning : mentions and allusions to domestic violence and child abuse. Slightly angst but not much .
It’s funny when you hear thing repeated to you , that you begin to believe them and absence and time makes you take a step back and you realize how truly fuck it all is , when it takes an outside look to see the toxicity . y/n would always be indebted to her friends . she was a runaway , a product of a cycle that kept repeating from her mother to now her. She was afraid when she was younger no one would believe her so to escape her father she ran with the help of fake id , she crossed country ended up away from one monster to the hands of another . she thought he was one to save her , she should of seen the mask he held perfect man saving her like a damsel in distress . looking back it was stupid to believe it all but thank to good surprising people she was able to escape and only one place she could go that had family was austin texas , she was born and bred , only family consisted of her grandfather probably the only man in her life that didn’t hurt her , one that loved her no matter what . she felt guilty not seeing him in so long and yet when she showed up on his door step he said sorry , he apologized for not protecting her as if he was the one to let her down.
He set her up in one if his houses , his old home that he was going to rent out but couldn't due to it Being The one He shared with his wife. She spent many times in the confines of these walls Everytime her mother was in er or her father in jail . The house held the only happy memories from her broken past . She was happy to be home though this was always home whether it was just her or her grandparents This was her safe space , her breather The one place that didn't have fear laced In the foundations .
She Stood looking over the garden , knowing to sass her grandfather for its state . She checked the old shed door almost falling off The hinges But the things she needed taken care of pulling Them out And heading placing Them along the porch only thing she couldn't do was put on the gloves Those ones that kept her grandmother's hands safe tending to the once beautiful rose bushes. No those went into a draw In the house to be kept safe . She wrote list smiling at the freedom Of being just able to leave and come back without a fight Or more To ensue After . Checking the car she'd bought second hand , like it was second nature make sure nothing or none one was lurking Waiting . She watched the town passing By one she grew up in seeing the change and yet it was still the same . Few saying their hellos and what not she could tell it was to fish information out , the faux Friendly manners to fuel the gossip pressing at tip of their tongues . She and her grandfather even held A little bet on it one she was winner of the moment she got his text standing in hardware store .
Eyes scanning the aisle looking at the buckets of paint all looked the same and yet All claiming to be the best for this and that . She moved back trying to make out The buckets up higher only for her back to hid a solid Mass and clash of Metal making her tense up .
“ woah easy there darling” the voice rasped making her spin to see what or who she hit.
“ shit I am so sorry here let me help” she spun picking up the bit And bobs She knocked From his hands .
“ which one you need” he asked softly head nodding To the shelf .
“ white paint one up there says it weather bearing , I need like two cans “ she shrugged going to hand his thing only he Walked up effortlessly reaching for the ones she wanted . “ good brand actually does the job Too” he chuckled placing Them in her cart , glancing at other thing that sat there .
“ I hope so still getting used to the heat again it's something” she nodded finally handing His things to him. “ well thank you and sorry again for before” all she said heading off .
“ hey wait if you need help with anything build , repair heres my card” he smiled pulling it out and holding It out.
“ thanks … Joel but i got it covered” she glanced to the card.
“ actually I'm tommy work's my big brother , but we actually work in construction and since I'm guessing your new To town well handy man is handy to have right” he chuckled.
“ well thank you tommy but I'm Not new to town just back and I'll hold on to “ she sighed before completely leaving him standing there like a boy lost in dreamland.
“ tommy what you doing standing around, John's waiting” a gruff Snapped the man from his dreamy state.
“ met the hottest girl in town joel give a man a minute ” he smiled Brightly .
“ you said that Friday night too “ the older miller Rolled his eyes .
“ no this ones different I can feel it” he chuckled as two headed Get rest of their supplies.
The two brothers heading home for lunch Tommy miller non stop Chatting over the mystery Girl , while joel learned To drown his Little brother out knowing The man would move on , glance at the car cross the street wondering who the mystery tenant was knowing his boss wasn't In a rush to rent that property out at all. Seemed to special for him to do so but didn't question much when he did event catch the new car parked out there once no trouble was brought To the street well it was fine By joel .
Tommy eyes widened as He caught the person standing on the porch. “ that's her man that one from hardware Store” he clapped his brother excitedly On the shoulder.
Hell his brother was right she was beautiful, yet he even from where he stood he could tell she was way too young for him she barely looked mid twenties probably College kid needing place to stay he reckoned.
“ I should say hey welcome her to the neighborhood” tommy winked .
“ though it was her” the voice Of miss Benson taking A stand beside them sad look on her face. “ that boys is john granddaughter y/n, now don't Bother poor girl I'd say it hard being back here” her words more pointed to the younger of The two men.
“ hard, how ?”.
“ y'all not heard What happened surprised with the mouths Around here , her mama was killed By her daddy girl ran away when she was 16 all way across the country , think it was new York guess she finally came back “ she sighed remembering the little pick of a thing that used to stay in that very house.
“ shit That is ..” tommy voice dropped.
“ he got life and he should of gotten the needle” she scoffed. “ hey peach “ she called making girls head shoot over.
“ miss Benson you still here huh?” She smiled although staying away taking in the two men standing til gaze feel On one .
“ I ain't following you darling , that brother I was telling you about We live here” tommy chuckled as three headed over.
“ how you doing sweet girl , good to See you back” the elderly Woman smiled softly .
“ I Don't think all have those same feeling but you alway been Exception to most” peach shook her head shyly .
“ so your grandpa Is our boss and landlord” tommy smiled bright flashing his flirty grin only to return a head nod back .
“ you fixing up your grandmother's garden ,about time someone did I'm sick of giving out That stubborn man” miss Benson chuckled.
“ he got mouthful from me too , but he ain't got green thumb is his Excuse” She rolled her eyes.
“ well if you need anything you got our card” tommy winked again she didn't bat a lash at the action.
“ thank you again I don't think I do “ she smiled softly trying not to come off rude Or anything .
“ welcome party has arrived “ the cheery Voice called .
“ of course it has , although not happy I find out she here Days later “ miss Benson narrowed Her eyes.
“ letting girl settle In before you start with your casseroles is all Ellis “ he chuckled .
“ my fault miss Benson , just needed time to be back” she smiled Weakly it wasn't a lie but it wasn't the whole truth either.
“ I'll drop by Once your settle peach good Seeing you” the old woman smiled.
“ we best get our lunch but need anything darling” tommy smiled .
“ I got your card “.
“ come on , it was nice to meet you y/n” joel nodded.
“ you too , pop I got your Food ready come in when you finished” she smiled heading Into the house not Really used to the social Proprietary ties Being back .
“ hey boys y'all wouldn't mind keeping eye on her while she there , you know young girl living a lone and all that?” john Asked but felt their was more to his words .
“ course we don't not one bit” Joel called back something was different about the girl , he'd give that much to tommy but he couldn't place his finger On it. Something she was hiding. Some thing clouded over her like weight of world was on her Shoulder So to say joel was intrigued was understatement
Part two,
44 notes · View notes
vinnsley · 5 days
Text
This is a part 2 to THIS post right here requested by: @sethmp3! Thank you for all the love on my last norton post :3
(EDIT: So i definitely forgotten what event happens when, so i'm terribly sorry if it's super off from canon, but if it is, ig this can count as an AU then or smth😭)
TW: Mention of blood, pickaxe (?? does this even need a tw), murder, death, gun... thats it i think
[--------------]
At first, no nobody pestered you about you and Norton's relationship, but soon enough, curiosity always kills the cat.
Comments about how close the two of you were, suggestive comments asking if theres something between the two of you... the list could go on forever.
But the 3 didn't have that many chances of actually investigating this matter, due to either you sticking by Norton, or vice versa.
Which you were lowkey thankful, actually. You didn’t like when people tried to get into your personal affairs, much less Norton's. That part always infuriated you, no matter how you look at it.
But when you were alone, walking towards your room which was the neighbouring room of Alice's room, someone grabbed your arm which made you freeze, as you were pulled inside a room, you out of insticnt hit the perpetrator, who turned out to be... Orpheus?
You questioned what was happening as he rubbed his face you just hit. Not so softly, might i add.
Alice, who was sitting on her bed looked over at you, and explained the situation, While Melly was looking over Orpheus, just watching to see if he got seriously injured.
Turns out, there was more to Kreiburg than you thought, which actually, made a lot of sense to you. Ever since he introduced himself, you knew he was probably a douchebag with intentions not so friendly.
And now knowing that it was confirmed that he was a fishy individual, you agreed to help investigate with the three.
Next morning, you woke up, had breakfast, and went to Alice's room.
What you noticed, was that Norton was nowhere to be found. Weird. He always waited for you before and after breakfast after you two reunited.
But you brushed it aside, thinking he just wanted space like he usually did at times, just a break from the world. So you didn’t think of on his door to check on him.
With Alice, the two of you went out of her room, chatting about a few things, before you both noticed Kreiburg... leaving the mansion.
You thought that leaving the mansion while waiting for the owner was... prohibited. Or something like that.
So what was Your and Alice's bright idea? Of course, go after Kreiburg and find out if he actually is hiding something behind that cold mask.
As the pair slowly stalked followed after the man, they noticed that Kreiburg stopped. The two of you quickly hid behind a tall bush, before glancing at eachother with unease as Kreiburg said that he knew someone was there, and he advises them to come out this instant.
His steps could be heard against the grass, drying leaves crunching against his boots that made a shiver run up both if your spines. It was either you two give yourselves up now... or you might never see the light of day again.
Before you could sacrifice yourself, Orpheus suddenly appeared, holding you back as he put a finger to his lips, shushing the both of you as he revealed himself.
Kreiburg seemed distracted enough. Having a chat Orpheus, telling him about some of his life, how this... horse racing place or whatever it was called was connected to his family — his past.
And the mention of a box. A box that was definitely hidden somewhere around these horse racing grounds, as Kreiburg said.
Alice glanced over at you, and nodded to the side as the pair of men went the other way, trying to look for this box that Kreiburg mentioned.
You nodded in response, as the two of you bolt to the other side, going to the three hills that seemed a bit awfully suspicious.
As Alice began digging up one of the hills, you watched as she worked the dirt with her hands, before she felt something hard against her palm.
Alice quickly started digging further, before she reached inside the small hole, and grabbed... a box. This was probably the box Kreiburg mentioned.
Before the two of you could open it though, you heard steps coming your way aswell as small talk you couldn't decipher.
The two of you quickly hid behind one of the hills and waited the outcome of what might happen.
As the men arrived, Kreiburg commented about how somebody was faster than them. Or should he say... somebodies were faster than him.
That's how every one of you knew you were busted. Accepting your fate, the two of you slowly revealed themselves, Alice holding the box.
After a bit of ranting from Kreiburg to which you in all honesty, did not focus in at all, he opened his cane to reveal... a gun.
You and Alice's eyes widened, aswell as Orpheus'.
Kreiburg instructed Alice to put the box infront of her, three steps onward.
Hesitantly, she did. She put down the box before stepping back beside you. Kreiburg immedieatly took that opprotunity to grab the box as fast as he could, but not before he threatend the three of you.
If any of you three decided to turn around before the gun shot, it would be the last thing you'd hear. Creepy, you admit it.
Neither of you three turn around. Waiting for the gunshot as you close your eyes shut. Counting mentally to yourself before you hear the loud gunshot go off.
As the three of you quickly turn around... you realized, Kreiburg ran away. Escaped.
Fuck! But no atleast you three knew he was as fishy as he looked since the start.
The three of you try to get out, but you see that the entrance gates... are locked? What?
They weren't locked when you three entered. This was weird. Probably Kreiburg trying to stall you.
Orpheus found a generator and said he's gonna try to decode it, while Alice and you find nearby ciphers to decode. Since somehow... Orpheus knew a lot about these.
When you asked him how he knows, he just replied with 'I am a writer, i do research of things i write.' Damn man.
You part ways, now jogging alone trough this nightmare maze-like place as you finally find a cipher, starting to decode it, which... somehow you actually knew how to do, even if you had 0 idea what this thing even did.
But as you decoded, your heart started thumping louder and louder inside your chest. Like a warning. You looked around, but saw nothing so you shrugged it off. Maybe it was the caffein and the nights you spent awake getting to you.
But the thumping didn't go away. It onky intensified, aswell as your gut began to churn. A cold shiver running down your spine as you felt like you were being watched. Stalked.
You started to turn left and right more frequently now, it was like something was nearby. Lurking. Maybe waiting. But you didn’t want to guess, as you suddenly made a dash for it.
And you were correct.
Loud thumping behind you could be heard. Someone or... something was chasing after you from behind. Their feet making louder noise than a regular humans would.
You took a sharp turn, and were met with a dead end. You pant, exhausted already from sprinting so much. As you tried to go forward the same path you went on, you felt a sudden pain in your back, letting out a shout as you suddenly got a speed boost, running to... whatever, at this point.
Your lungs felt like they could give out at any moment, you were holding onto your side in pain, you could also feel the bloody flesh of your back against the suddenly cool air of the race place.
You got more unnerved from the blood that you felt trickling down your back and stained your jacket you wore today. Aswell as your hands as you tried to wipe it away, trying to atleast get rid of the uncomfortable feeling if you were already running out of breath, quite literally.
Your body felt weak. It became more heavy then you felt it was before, your feet thumping harshly against the leaves, branches and many other things you stepped on while... running from god knows what.
As you reached a small barricade, you decided jumping over it would be a good way to give you some loop hole against your hunter—
Another sharp pain, but this time to your left side as you collapsed on the floor, writhing in pain as blood began to pool underneath your body from your open wounds.
You whined and whimpered, trying to crawl away before giving up. You couldn't do anything, your body was giving up on you. Your lungs were burning, the air was much, much more cooler than when you arrived.
You turned over on your back, to atleast see who or what was hunting you down like a bloodthirsty animal desperate for prey.
Your eyes widen. This... wasn't a person at all! It seemed like it's... body was...made out of stone? Or was it coal? You couldn't tell from your blurry vision. You could make out the big shadow of a pickaxe... If it even was a pickaxe in the first place.
But upon looking at it's face... it's face seemed very familiar. You just... Couldn't put your finger on it. The black hair, the scar over one if it's eye... the helmet? It all seemed so familiar yet you couldn't pin point why it so familiar.
But before you could think more about it, you saw the.. monster-human hybrid grab it's pickaxe harder, lifting it up over it's shoulder, getting ready to swing at you.
Before it smashed your head into a million different pieces, you whispered out your last words.
'I love you, Norton.'
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mafiasliege · 7 months
Text
The Proposal, Part 1
(hey guys! So I randomly had this idea of the JamesonAvery proposal so I thought to share it here. This is my first time writing a fic btw. Let me know how you feel about it. Also, it's in 2 or maybe 3 parts.)
--------------------------------------------------
Present Day
Jameson Hawthorne never gets nervous.
Almost all the time.
Almost.
"What did you do now?" Nash said, walking the line between his usual drawl and slight accusation. Apparently, he was the first one to have gotten Jameson's 911 and come to the tree house.
"What makes you think I did anything?" Jameson replied, but he knew why Nash would say so.
"We know you, and right now you look like you haven't slept in days." Xander said as he climbed in from the window. His brothers knew him too well. Even from behind him, Nash could immediately tell something was going on. Xander too.
"That's because I haven't." It was true. He was too excited in the plane back from Paris to sleep. And scared. The world was changing.
"Did sun rise from the west today?" Grayson said. His carefully calculated mask fell, he seemed too puzzled by Jameson's expression and continued, "you look... nervous." Jameson didn't bother replying. Everyone was here now.
He was going to tell them. Now. It seemed simpler in his mind.
Clearly not.
"Before you say anything, Jamie, this time, whatever you're about to tell us is not something that's going to stay in the tree ho-" Xander came to a halt abruptly when Jameson plunked down a ring box on the wooden table. Simplest way of getting it done was to rip the bandaid.
Either Jameson's brother were too shocked or they'd died standing.
"Is-Is that what I think it is?" Grayson was not-yelling by the difference of a hair. Jameson just nodded.
"Oh my god. Oh my GOD!" Xander tackled Jameson. Soon Nash and Grayson joined. The tackle hugs never got old. And something told Jameson that some things would never change.
Like his brothers.
They'll be here forever.
"You haven't even seen the ring!" Jameson said as Grayson pulled him up. He opened the deep green velvet box. Inside was a beautiful oval-shaped Emerald- a shade of green so captivating, as though it was daring you to try to look away. They couldn't.
It looks like Jamie's eyes, Grayson thought suddenly. Something told him Avery would think so too, afterall she'd probably spent ages looking at his eyes.
"It's gorgeous, Jameson" Nash said. "But you know I have to ask, do you think you're ready to get married? You're 22."
"Who said anything about getting married? Avery and I could stay engaged till we're ready."
He shot back, and realised too late what Nash had meant to ask.
Are you sure she's the one?
But Nash was smiling. They all were, actually. He'd said it so easily. So easily, it was like breathing. That's how certain be was about Avery. Nash had gotten his answer.
"Jamie…" Xander was looking at the ring. The inside of the ring. "It's engraved-"
"I know."
Nash and Grayson moved to Xander's side to see the ring.
SMG • AKG
"Where'd you get the ring?"
--------------------------------------------------
The day before
It was 9 pm. Nine in the cold, cold night of Paris. Jameson had waited seven months for this. Seven months of secretly tracking one small ring- a ring more valuable to his beloved heiress more than almost anything. It was a miracle that he'd been able to hid all of it from Avery. Tracking and finding the ring was hard enough, let alone getting the owner to sell it to him. What if they didn't. Luckily, it had ended up in an auction house.
First it went to Layla's pawn shop in Connecticut, then to a buyer in Washington, whose wife sold the ring during their clearly shitty honeymoon in Italy. From there it moved all across Spain, Scotland and finally, an exclusive auction house in France.
He could still remember their conversation during their second vacation to Tahiti all those months ago, sitting near his heiress on Te Pari, a cliff jumping spot.
She'd told him about what she read in one of her mom's letters, about an emerald ring her mom gave her on her 15th birthday. With their initials engraved. Apparently Toby had given it to Sarah as a gift when Avery was just a baby. He'd asked her to give it to Avery when she was old enough.
Of course, when she was old enough, her mother was dying of a rare disease, one that required very expensive treatment. So, poor 15-year-old Avery had to sell the ring in a pawn shop.
He remembered feeling like someone had stabbed him in the heart with a dagger. Avery could practically bathe in emeralds now, she even owned diamond and emerald mines. But she'd never get that ring back.
That's what she thought.
"Mr. Hawthorne" a very French voice snapped Jameson or of his thoughts.
"Mr. Laurent" Jamie shook the middle-aged, suit-clad Frenchman's hand. He handed Jameson a green velvet box, and Jameson handed him a balck envelope with a cheque.
"I'm surprised you came all the way here to get the ring. We could have brought it to you" Mr Laurent said. But then Avery would've known. He'd told her he was taking her plane to Scotland to check in on the upkeep of Vantage- his paternal family's castle that he'd won. Jamie checked the inside of the ring.
SMG • AKG
Yes. Yes yes YES.
"Worry not. I'm just glad to have it."
And he was. So much, he could only imagine how happy Avery would be.
Now the hard parts.
-------------------------------------------------
Present day
Grayson was the first one to break the silence after Jameson finished telling his story.
"When are you going to do it?"
"The day she came here,"
Jameson shot his brother the most Jameson Winchester Hawthorne smile.
"Tomorrow"
--------------------------------------------------
(Part 2 will come up soon. Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks!! :))
48 notes · View notes
captain-mj · 2 years
Note
I want the zombie roach AU we discussed.
I am holding your femur hostage.
This is exactly what I'm talking about. Steal my bones guys
Ghost remembered the exact moment he knew Roach had died. He woke up in the hospital, still nursing a bullet wound, with luckily only scant burns. Pain had followed him in a straight shot through his body, an overwhelming sensation. 
Price had come in. Or maybe he had been in there a while and Ghost had just now noticed. 
But Price hadn't looked happy to see him. He looked like he had been crying and Ghost knew immediately what it was. Ghost didn’t want to ask. He wanted to bury himself in those pillows and never ever know the truth. That way, he could pretend. Pretend Roach was alive and well and somewhere else. 
But Simon couldn’t put things away that easily. 
"Roach..." His voice sounded shot. Hoarse and harsh. Probably rubbed raw from smoke inhalation. It made him stutter and fall over his words, something he thought he had gotten over as a child. They wouldn’t leave his throat, but he managed to say the name and from Price’s expression, it was more than enough. 
"He's gone, Simon. We found his body along with his dog tags." Price sank to his level since Ghost was still laying down. “Burned in the same fire that almost took you.”
"How do you know... Maybe Shepherd just..." The look on Price's face made Ghost trail off.
"I took off his mask, Simon. It was him. I'm sorry, but he's gone." Price was gentle with him. So gentle. It was more than he deserved. He let him die.
"Ah..." Ghost needed to lay down. Maybe forever. He felt Price's hand on his shoulder but it was distant.
"Rest, Ghost. You're hurt."
"Can you get Johnny for me?"
"Yeah… I can get Soap for you. He already knows. Been helping me with arrangements." Price left and it was agonizing wait until Soap came. He sat next to him on the bed, gently tracing the new burns on his body.
Ghost didn't cry. He physically couldn't thanks to some injuries to his face, along with a  lot of psychological stuff. But he felt it regardless. A burning behind his eyes and along his nose. He leaned heavily into Soap, into his lifeline.
Soap had clearly been crying. His eyes rimmed with red and there were small tear tracks down his face. But for Simon, he still held it together, not wanting to lose him to Ghost due to grief. 
"I really am so sorry."
Ghost felt shaken. The idea of Roach.
His Roach.
Gone.
He hid his face in Soap's face and shook hysterically. Soap hugged him close to him, petting his hair.
"I know. I know." Johnny held him. "They think it was fast. He would've been dead before the.. the fire..."
"How bad is his body?"
"You're not going to want to see it." Soap told him gently. "I found it. And you're not going to want to see it."
Ghost continued to lay with Soap for a long time. But he knew already that he wasn't going to let Roach go this easily.
He would do something. Anything. 
-
Ghost was discharged two weeks later. It was excruciatingly long. He counted the days slowly. 
His bullet wound healed in 10 days. The perfect, typical timeline of a bullet wound. It almost made him sick. 
One of the nurses offhandedly mentioned how lucky he was. That the burns were healing so well, stitching themselves back so easily. And that he avoided third degree burns. She seemed so surprised by it. 
Ghost bit back a harsh word about how his gear was there to prevent those wounds or maybe a sharp retort about how having his Roach die was not by any means lucky.
His… 
So he did the only thing he knew how to do. 
Ghost went to a bar and started drinking. He made sure Soap and Price didn’t see him because he knew they would want to stop him and he wanted to put himself in a fucking coma. Maybe he’d get alcohol poisoning and die. If he kept drinking, he could die by morning from it. 
Death didn’t like him though. He knew it didn’t. If it did, he would’ve died in Vernon’s grave. Or in the scorpion’s cage. Or by his dad’s hands. 
Instead, he had to keep living. 
He downed the bourbon and stared at the screen that was playing above his head. He wasn’t actually sure what was playing, but he hoped that between his tattoos, his mask, his size and also the fact he was clearly busy, no one except the bartender would pay him any mind. 
The bourbon burned. After a moment, he ordered a virgin pina colada. He made sure the stupid umbrella came with it and he pushed it to the empty seat next to him where Roach would sit. Roach didn’t drink. Ghost had no idea why. 
Maybe he was a flirty drunk? Or he had bad experiences with it?
Ghost got another shot and downed it too. The burn went down his throat and he could feel it in his stomach. 
Someone sat next to him. 
“Waiting for someone?” 
Ghost turned to the man sitting next to him. He was… hmm. Tall. Older looking. He had a face similar to Pedro Pascal, if a bit taller with blue eyes. More facial hair like he didn’t have time to clean it up. 
Ghost had daddy issues. Never said he didn’t. And right now, he was all alone. He had been dancing around his feelings towards two of his sergeants but one was dead and the other was not here. 
This guy was giving him attention and he was maybe a little too drunk. All the wrong things. 
A one night stand might help where the alcohol was failing. 
“Not anyone that’ll show up.”
“Really? Stood up on a date?”
“No. He’s dead.” Ghost downed the shot, noticing the guy take the straw in his mouth and drink. His dark eyes focused on him. Dark brown around pupils. Something about them made him feel uneasy. Weren’t they just blue?
“Ah. Shame. What’s his name?”
“Gary. Though I never used that. Always called him Roach.”
“Military?” 
For a moment, Ghost felt a skittering paranoia before remembering his dog tags were out. Laying on his chest. They were slightly burned. He knew how to clean them. Or even just get a replacement. But he hadn’t. And he wouldn’t. It had burns just like him and Roach. 
“Yeah. Military. You ever serve?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Don’t. Don’t let anyone you know join if you can help it.”
“If you could leave, would you?”
“No. I don’t have anything else.” Even Soap, Johnny, Sergeant MacTavish, as much as Ghost romanticized the soft idea that he’d have him, was so intrinsically tied to the military. Roach had been as well, but Roach was more intrinsically tied with being dead now. If he left, he’d have nothing. No family. No home. No one to know. He’d start over and at the ripe age of 28, he couldn’t do that. Didn’t have the energy for it. “That’s what the military does. It’s like a toxic partner.”
“I see. So your buddy Roach. What would you do to get him back?”
“Fucked up question to ask a drunk person that’s grieving.”
“I know.” The man leaned in. He smelled weirdly sweet. An overwhelming, almost toxic sweet smell. Ghost remembered being in the coffin. He didn’t know why but the smell brought him back.
“What cologne are you wearing?” He mumbled.
That man smiled and Ghost’s vision grew a tad blurry. Shifting around like he was black out drunk and yeah he hadn’t been counting his shots but he was a big guy and he doubted however much he had drank would’ve been enough. “I’m not wearing cologne, Ghost. You’ve killed a lot of people haven’t you?”
“Try not to think about it.”
“Saved any?”
“That’s the hope. I like to think I’ve saved more than I’ve taken, but I don’t let the numbers keep me awake.”
“I’m going to ask again. What would you do to get him back?”
Ghost thought about it. “I don’t know what I wouldn’t do.”
“You should go visit him.”
“He’s in the morgue. They said I shouldn’t.” His vision was blurring more like they were filling with tears. 
The doctor examined his face, looking at him with scrunched eyebrows. A surgical mask covered the bottom half of her face.
“You suffered some horrible injuries. How did you drag yourself across Mexico to get here?” Her accent was thick. Undeniably Texan.
“You’re safe now, sweetie? Okay?” He could see it. The pity. He hadn’t seen himself yet. He didn’t know how bad the scarring was. Simon was not aware that he had died in that desert. Not yet. 
He smiled. And this time, Ghost noticed that he had a few too many teeth. 
“Go visit him and tell him how you feel.”
“He’s dead.” Ghost bit out. “I don’t know what sick fuck you are, but he’s dead.”
“Is he? Have you seen his body? Do you trust everyone that much?” 
Ghost trusted Price and Soap. He did. Didn’t he?
No. No, he did not.
Ghost was suddenly moving. He went to deck the guy but he was gone. 
Somehow, he did find himself walking to the morgue. It was attached to the base. He didn’t know why. The army hospital was right next to it. That was probably why. 
He found himself looking through the different metal cabinets. Trying to find him. 
Roach looked unbearably tiny. If Ghost remembered correctly, they had embalmed him, but not held the funeral yet. They wanted Ghost to be up and at em before they did it. The embalming kept him from rotting. But it didn’t make him look alive. 
He shouldn’t be exposed like this. The thin sheet over him wasn’t enough. 
Ghost grabbed a trash can and threw up. He blamed it on the alcohol and not the scent of formaldehyde. 
Crying was never something he wanted to do before. But he wanted to now. He wanted a way to get all of these stupid emotions out of his body. 
There was a rustling. Probably one of the attendants finding him here. That was going to be an awkward explanation. 
A hand on his shoulder made him finally look up. See the pale flesh of Roach’s arm. Even paler than normal thanks to the embalming fluid now running through his veins instead of blood. 
His head tilted unnaturally and his eyes had a whitish tint to them, but it was clearing as he blinked. 
Ghost felt like throwing up again, but there was nothing to throw up. He stood up slowly, towering over him. Roach blinked a few more times before smiling at him. The scars on his face tugged slightly with it, just like they always did. 
“Roach?” Ghost said slowly.
Roach raised his hands, his fingers trembling. Simon. He signed it. Like most people who used sign language, he had a special sign for the closer people in his life. Ghost’s was the sign for ghost where instead of holding an F sign, he held an S. It was an odd thing, but it was so clearly Roach. 
Ghost wrapped his arms around him. He felt so cold from the cabinet. 
“Are you cold?” 
Roach nodded. He was also very naked. He looked like he was made of glass. 
“Let me get you to my room.” Ghost slid his jacket off and put it on him. He tugged it so it covered as much of Roach as possible. Hysterically, he worried he’d get a cold.
Ghost pulled him along gently. Roach followed him, looking up at him with shaking legs. His eyes get drooping like he was tired and Ghost didn’t even think before trying to lift him before stopping. Roach felt so heavy in his arms. Way, way heavier than normal. 
Apparently the embalming process added some weight. He instead just ushered him faster and gently put him in his own bed. Ghost wondered what this was. If it was some cruel hallucination or delusion. 
Roach made the sign for him to lay down and Ghost did without question. He pressed into him, his freezing body leeching warmth from Ghost. Ghost didn’t care. He’d freeze to death if it meant whatever this was would last longer. 
At some point, he fell asleep. 
Soap yelling woke him up. He sounded horrified at first before something shut him up. 
Ghost reluctantly pulled himself together enough to open his eyes to look. 
Roach was standing up. Dressed luckily. He had Soap’s face in his hands and Ghost couldn’t see his expression but judging by Soap’s it was a calming one.
“I saw you die. You died. You were…” 
Roach made the sign for Soap. It was the regular sign for soap but he made the sign for J with his hands. Just like on Ghost, it worked like a charm. 
Soap pulled him close, crying quietly. Ghost noticed that Roach was still pale and he reached over, feeling his skin. It felt wrong. Not as cold as before, but more of an ambient room temperature. 
Roach shoved them both away and rushed off to Ghost’s bathroom. He could hear him hacking something up. The sound of liquid falling from his mouth. 
“How.” Soap looked at him. “Being dead for a few minutes can destroy a person’s brain. A few hours? They’re wrecked. Resuscitation is almost pointless because its a miracle if they even start breathing let alone have a quality of life. He was dead two weeks. Two full weeks. And that’s just counting the time in the morgue. That’s not even considering that he was next to your unconscious ass for who knows how long.” He was speaking so clearly, suppressing his accent as if using Scotts would make Ghost not be able to understand him. Ghost already couldn’t understand him. He didn’t get the question.
“I don’t know. I just… went down there. And he woke up.”
“What did you do Ghost.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Ghost. This doesn’t… make sense. He was dead a while.” 
“I know. I don’t get it either. But he’s awake.”
“We’re…” Soap ran his hands through his hair. “This is fucking insane.”
Ghost stood up and grabbed him. He cupped his face in his hands just like Roach did. This was madness. Mania to the goddamn extreme. He knew, deep down, that he shouldn’t be taking this so easily. But they were all alive. After two weeks of being confined to  a hospital bed, forced to do nothing but think and think and think about the missing part of himself, he didn’t want to think anymore. 
He had his pieces. 
Ghost was whole again. 
Simon kissed Johnny, not lifting his mask to do so. He could feel Johnny’s lips through it and that was enough. “We’ll figure it out.”
Johnny stared at him. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to crush Ghost. Or because he also wanted nothing more than to have everyone alive and kicking. “Okay. We’ll figure it out.”
-
Roach had laid awake the entire night. He didn’t feel like sleeping. In all honesty, he was very confused. One moment, he had been shooting at an enemy with Ghost. Then he was alone, somewhere very cold with a sheet over his face. It was even more confusing when he stood up and his body felt like he was wearing his gear even though he was naked. There was also this chill down to his goddamn bones. 
Roach kept having to get up to cough up all the embalming fluid. When he left the bathroom, Soap and Ghost were there. He felt lighter now. Finally having rid himself of most of it. Under his skin, he could see the very start of pink as his body tried to make more blood to replace what was drained. 
Ghost left the room. Soap sat with him, moving closer. Roach leaned into him, still so very cold. Soap wrapped his arms around him.
“What happened?”
Roach didn’t fucking know. He made the sign for the idiot and Soap laughed, though he was clearly tense. 
“Sorry for asking.”
Ghost brought back food. Other than the bacon, Roach couldn’t really stomach it. He did drink down the tea Ghost brought him though. It felt so warm. 
Ghost sat on his other side and it felt so nice. They felt so nice. 
They smelled really, really nice.
Roach blinked. Huh. That was weird. 
During the night, Soap stayed in Ghost’s room, which he thought was cute. He couldn’t fit in the bed so the two of them had a small disagreement over who would take the floor and who would take the bed. Roach tried to offer and they glared so hard into his soul he thought he’d drop dead again. 
After an hour of watching the two of them sleep quietly, Ghost managed to argue that he had the bed the night before so Soap laid next to him, Roach got… impatient. He was too bored for this. 
So he got up and went outside. The smell wasn’t helping. His own body had the horrible chemical smell that a shower hadn’t gotten rid of, but his… 
What were they? Friends he guessed. His friends smelled divine. It made him so hungry. He knew the kitchen wouldn’t have anything worthwhile but his card had a lot of money on it, like his friends, he didn’t really use it for anything, mostly just hoarding it all for retirement. 
Roach found a diner and after looking through the food, he settled on a steak. The waitress didn’t know sign so he had to point to it. Luckily, the waitress had a good head on her shoulders because she held up her hand and pointed to her fingers, saying the different doneness so he could just hold up the finger he wanted. 
She was nice. Short and accommodating. She put the food in front of him and he had took his mask off to eat it. He had asked for medium rare, but it was very well done. He thought of complaining, but the idea of having to both get her to realize the mistake without being able to verbally explain along with bothering her was … He decided against it. 
Roach bit into the steak, not bothering with a knife because it was getting on his nerves. He sank his teeth into it. The inside was red. 
Roach was in the diner’s kitchen, holding someone’s arm. Their body laid out on the floor with several giant chunks missing. 
The waitress laid just a few feet away. Her shirt had been ripped open and he could see the empty chest cavity where her torso should be. 
After a moment of thinking, he kept eating. Finally, he felt warm. Their blood replacing his own. He didn’t feel so hungry. 
Their lungs tasted bad. He ended up skipping over them and going to the muscles in his chest. They melted like butter. 
He’d have to order his steaks bloody. 
198 notes · View notes
moonbyulsstuff · 2 months
Note
Hello!!! I was wondering if you could write Hanju Gu x Reader and Jeaha Han x Reader separately, where the reader is female but due to some traumatic experience Reader hides her face and acts like a guy, not knowing that the reader is female they befriend her, recruiting her into their gang, during a big fight between gangs her mask breaks off, and they find out that they are actually female, and if you can please make the reader badass.
I hope it is not too much and please do not mind my English it is not my first language.
Your A Girl?!
Female Reader
Requested
Request Rules
Masterlist.
TW: SEXUAL ASSAULT, IMPLIED EMOTIONAL ABUSE?
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Hajun Gu:
Hajun should've known that she were a girl at first but he brushed it off, he always thought it was odd that her voice was slightly much higher than the other guys.
Or how there was a slight curve whenever she wore a shirt, how her chest seemed slightly round than the others guy who also had big chest. Everything about her basically screams girl.
But he ignored it.
She was good at fighting, flexible, fast and light in her feet. Much quicker than the fastest guy he see, especially Haru Seong. But it was probably because of how small and light that made it easier for her to navigate faster during fights.
But it was probably because of how she always had a hat and a mask on, basically hiding her identity.
So when the big fight happened between East and West, the reveal of her gender was shown.
The mask and hat being taken by some of the East members and Hajun was with [Name] when it happened, but Hajun noticed something when her gender identity was reveal. And that was fear.
She was quick to beat the members up before they even got the chance to fight.
And now, Hajun was standing as he stared at her back. She was slightly shaking and nervous and it made Hajun want to comfort her. "[Name]?" The girl flinched when he called out to her, she slowly turned and look at Hajun, and he could see it clearly. The fear in her eyes and Hajun wanted to comfort her. Reassure her that everything was alright.
The same she did when he got his ass kicked by Suhyeon, he slowly walked towards her but she took a step forward. Hajun knew she was going to run away after this. "Wait... don't go.." Hajun said as [Name] looked away and clenched her fist together. "... You're a girl? The entire time..?" Hajun said as [Name] looked down on the ground and nodded, she bit her bottom lip. "Yes... the entire time..." [Name] said as Hajun nodded.
The two were able to settle down, in a private area. She was wearing her cap as she adjusted her hair, she was fiddling with the mask. Hajun leaning against the wall as she was sitting down on the stairs.
His arms crossed as he stared down at her. "Why..? Why did you hide your identity? Specifically your gender identity?" He asked as [Name] looked down on the ground, Hajun could see that she was slightly shaking.
He sighed, maybe he shouldn't ask now especially since he had just found out [Name] was a girl.
"You know what... you can tell me some other ti-" "You won't tell the others if I do?" Hajun looked at her in confusion before he shook his head. "No, no... of course not. I won't tell the others if you don't want me too..." Hajun said as [Name] looked at him.
He could see the reassurance in her eyes, she was quiet before she quietly spoke. ".... I think... you should know... after all... we've known each other since middle school..." [Name] said as Hajun seem surprised.
"Are you sure?" "Yeah..." [Name] told Hajun everything, the reason on why she did her identity and hid it from everyone.
She was assaulted, when she was in middle school. Before she met Hajun, she went to a different school. She was assaulted by a bunch of guys one day and she was traumatized, she couldn't get the feeling away.
She was scared that if she sleeps, she'll woke up one day with the men standing by her bedside. It scared her, it scared her so much. She constantly walked around in edge after what happened, overthinking and being cautious.
[Name] eventually made the decision to hid her identity and learned on how to fight, she felt that if she hid her identity then she won't get assaulted and felt that if she fought then nobody would bother her ever.
She feels this was the only way for her to prevent from being assaulted once more, she didn't want to relive that experience once more. [Name] wanted to make sure that nobody would ever mess with her.
[Name] knew that if she fights with her gender identity revealed, she would still be constantly harassed by the men around her. That's why she also hid her gender identity.
After she finished telling her story, Hajun stared at her in shock. "So... that's why.." Hajun said as she nodded, her head put down. Hajun sighed and knelt in front of her and lightly ruffled her hair.
"I won't tell the others..." Hajun said as [Name] looked up at him. "Thank you..." She said as Hajun smiled. "I'll keep your secret, I promise. I'll make sure of it..." [Name] felt tears prickling in her eyes as Hajun wiped it away. "Don't worry... and I'll make sure no one touch you in that way ever again."
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Jaeha Han:
Jaeha always had a inkling suspicions. I mean that man is smart as hell. Nothing could by pass him except for the betrayal of Sikyung.
Their eyes widened when the cap and mask fell down to the ground after Sikyung took it off her, it shocked them especially Jaeha. It confirmed his suspicious about [Name] genders.
"You... you were a girl the entire time...?" Sikyung said with his eyes widened but he dodged another kick from [Name], the anger and frustration in her eyes were obvious. The fact her gender identity was revealed, it frustrated her to no end.
Sikyung kept dodging her kicks and punch but it was slowly started to get overwhelming for Sikyung, she was fight. No doubt, flexible too. Since her body was small and light, she could move quicker.
As she raised her leg to kick him in his shoulders, he held her leg and was about to throw her before she spin her body and kicked him across the face.
Sikyung felt his face, the kick hurt a lot. He hasn't seen it before, but it was clear she had experience from fighting someone.
"That shit hurts... I never thought you would be a girl [Name]. Any reason why you hid it?" Sikyung said as [Name] only glared at him before he got a call.
He eventually left as it was quiet before everyone started to eventually got up and left, to get their injuries treated. Jaeha kept staring at [Name] even after they got into a meeting, and they left as Jaeha and [Name] walked down the same path as always.
...
"So, you're a girl." Jaeha said as [Name] looked up at him before she nodded. It was quiet for a moment before [Name] spoke out once more.
"... are you mad that I kept it as a secret?" She asked as Jaeha chuckled as he shook his head. "Nope, not made. Just curious.. on why you hid your gender identity..." Jaeha said as he blew a smoke.
[Name] hummed and nodded his head. "Can't blame you for getting curious..." She said as Jaeha looked down at her. It went back to being quiet once more.
Jaeha didn't want to pressure her on telling him, he'll wait. [Name] has always been by his side ever since she joined him, she was loyal and followed and didn't ask anything.
So, he'll wait until she tells him.
But for now, he'll just revel at the fact that his suspicions were correct that [Name] was indeed girl. He blew a smoke before he felt [Name] stopped walking, he turned around and stared at [Name]. "[Name]?" Jaeha called out. "Is something wrong?" ... "My father..." Jaeha tilted his head. "What about him?" He asked as he walked towards [Name] and stood in front of her, she frowned as she clenched her first. "He always wanted a boy... he forced me to be one..." She said as Jaeha seemed shock at the revelation.
"Even now that he's dead... I can't seem... to get away from this... being a boy... pretending to be one..." [Name] said as Jaeha frowned, he can feel the pain and desperation in her voice. "It's just that.... every time I act like a girl or... be a girl out in the public... I can hear his voice in the back of my mind... his words echoing... it haunts me..." She said as she held her arms.
"I... I just wan to live normally... but I just can't..." [Name] said as Jaehe frowned as he felt his heart tug at the sound of her voice, he walked towards her and pulled her into a hug. Catching [Name] off guard at what Jaeha just did, his hug tightened. "I'll be here for you.." Jaeha whispered against her ear as her eyes widened at his words. "Every step into the way... I'll make you'll feel comfortable being yourself... not hiding behind something you aren't.." Jaeha said as she felt her eyes watered, she buried her face against his shoulder. "I promise you..."
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hollandorks · 2 years
Text
shadows in the night
battinson!bruce wayne x f!reader
chapter seventeen
summary: more than a year after the events of middle of the night, y/n and Bruce are happily engaged and working to lower the amount of crime in Gotham. However, a new killer calling himself the Riddler has other plans for their happiness…set during the events of the movie, mostly canonical, some changes made to fit the story
a/n: I won’t lie, I really enjoy this chapter! I’m a bit nervous about it and agonized over it too, which is why it’s a day later than usual. I hope you enjoy it! 
Series Masterlist
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word count: 3194
It was time to catch an asshole in a mask. It was time to end this.
The Gotham streets were still slick with all the rain from the past week. Y/n slipped through the shadows easily, one eye on the crowds around the Iceberg Lounge–even more popular now that men patronizing it were being murdered, apparently–and one eye on the the darkness around her. She started across the street from the club, watching the entrance where Annika and the mayor had been photographed. Things had changed a bit since she had worked there, but the essence of the club was still the same. 
The pictures had definitely come from the building right across the street. 
She waited for a minute, watching as the door of the club opened and one of the bouncers stepped out, confused. She blinked and almost missed the shadow that darted inside behind him and shut the door in his face. 
She hid a smile into one hand. Bruce. 
After a moment of watching the bouncer banging on the door, y/n turned back to the task at hand. 
She was suddenly completely aware of how out of her depth she was. 
She wasn’t a detective like Gordon, or a genius like Bruce, so how could she expect to find the Riddler? How could she expect to figure out this puzzle piece? She wished she’d gone with Bruce inside the club. At the very least, she could fight. He’d made sure of that. 
She took another deep breath and calmed her mind. 
No. The Riddler was like her, except yeah, he was smarter. 
But he’d been chewed up and spit out by the corruption in the city, just like she had. 
That’s why he’d called her an inspiration, right? Even as her gut churned to think about it like that, she forced herself to dig deeper into the thought. She pulled up the memory every single cop and crime show and true crime documentary she’d ever seen and tried to draw on the knowledge to figure it the fuck out. 
The Riddler was playing the long game. That much she was certain of. 
He had planned and planned and planned before executing any part of it. The ciphers, the riddles, the staging of the bodies. The photographs being leaked. The cards. The bomb mailed to Wayne Manor. 
All of it coming together like pieces on a chess board, because that’s how he saw it, wasn’t it? It was all one long game to take out the corruption in the city. 
She stared up at the apartment building as mist drifted down from the thick clouds overhead. 
He probably lived in one of the apartments. Or at least rented one to use for whatever his nefarious purposes were. 
Alright, think, y/n told herself as she continued to study the building–part of her was hoping one of the windows would open and the Riddler would shout down at her, revealing his location. 
How best to figure it out, then, if he wasn’t going to give himself away? 
She headed for the fire escape and started climbing. She’d start at the top, see if the roof held any clues towards the Riddler’s whereabouts. He might have used the roof to take the photos. If that didn’t work, she’d make her way inside, maybe see if she could find someone awake at this late hour and ask if there were any weirdos with clear framed glasses living there or dropping by. 
Legs burning as she climbed, y/n wondered exactly how Gordon and Bruce had the patience for this shit. She felt stupid thinking that she’d just ask around and see if she could find the Riddler. She berated herself as she neared the top of the fire escape. She really should have gone with Bruce. This was stupid. So he had taken the photos from across the street. So what? That didn’t mean he was still here. Did it? Did she really think she was going to get lucky and just stumble across his location, take him in, and that be that? 
But what if she did? 
She thought about her promise to Bruce to not do anything rash. To let him and Gordon know. The Riddler was dangerous, so she couldn’t go rushing in if she did somehow manage to find him. She had to be careful, because otherwise the outcome might be bad. She wasn’t holding her breath on actually finding anything useful, but at least she was chasing down the lead. Just in case. 
When she reached the roof, flashes of blue and red illuminated the misty air around her. 
No, around the club. 
There were no sirens, no sounds, nothing, just the lights. Curious, she peered back down and saw tons of cops gathering around the club, every single one of them aiming at the front door. Based on the way the lights were bouncing around in the mist, they had the back entrance and alleyways covered, too. 
Her stomach dropped. Gordon had gathered the troops, and Bruce was in there. She really, really hoped the cops down there weren’t trigger happy. Bruce was already on GCPD’s shit list for escaping from right under their noses on their own turf. Hopefully capturing Falcone and delivering him to Gordon would earn him some much needed brownie points. She took a breath and firmly told herself that Bruce’s suit was bulletproof, and Gordon had his back. 
Y/n shook the thoughts off and focused on the task at hand. Because how nice and perfect would it be to deliver Falcone and the Riddler into GCPD’s waiting hands? How good would that make Gordon look? She smiled to herself as she nosed around the dirty roof, finding nothing but trash, cigarette butts, and an empty paint can that smelled suspiciously like urine. 
Nothing. She wasn’t great at looking for clues like Bruce was, but even she could tell that the roof had nothing to offer. She blew out a breath, the sound almost too loud in the quiet night. 
She pulled out the now-crumpled photos she’d taken from the desk and studied them. She held them up and peered over the edge of the roof, comparing them to what was before her. On the far side of the roof, she could barely see the front of the club. But closer to where she’d come up the fire escape, the angle was nearly perfect. It was just slightly too high. That, compared with the fact that there wasn’t much on the roof to begin with, made her think that the photos had been taken from somewhere inside the building, most likely the top floor. 
On a whim, she tried the door that led inside the building, and had her first stroke of luck. 
Unlocked. 
She glanced up at a security camera above the door and really hoped she didn’t get arrested. The small, blinking red light told her that the camera actually worked and wasn’t just for show. 
Wary, she quietly took the stairs down to the top floor of the building. 
The hallway was dim and dingy, the doors of each apartment painted with chipping red paint. There was a window at the end of the hallway. She crept over to it and peered outside. With a tilt of her head, she was able to see the flashing lights and cops gathered below. 
This was it. 
The apartment to her left didn’t have a view of the club, but the one on the right would. 
She fumbled for her phone and texted Bruce and Gordon both the apartment number. She needed to get out while she still could, let Gordon and his men surround the building and corner the Riddler. He was cunning, too cunning, and she didn’t want herself to be at the mercy of another bomb. 
Y/n slowly started backing away. 
The door swung open. 
“Y/n,” the man said, his face utterly unremarkable. His face was round, his eyes wide behind familiar glasses, his hair a light brown. He looked almost boyish in the light. “What a surprise.” He didn’t seem surprised at all to see her.  
Her heart stopped. 
The security camera was probably his. 
The man called the Riddler gave her a chilling smile. “Come in, I want to show you something. I won’t hurt you.” He stepped aside and held the door open for her. 
Y/n couldn’t think beyond the panic that was thrumming through her. Should she run? Would he come after her? Shoot her? Blow her up? She had no way of knowing, and that was the worst part. He said he wouldn’t hurt her, but he’d already mailed a bomb to her home. He’d already had the DA crash a car into a memorial she was attending. He’d already threatened her fiance, outed her as a confidential informant to a lot of very powerful people, and was likely the reason the Gotham Project had burned down. He’d already hurt her.
“Come in,” the Riddler said again, more firmly this time, his chilling smile morphing into something threatening. She hated that he looked so normal but was still so frightening. 
She stepped into his apartment, heart in her throat, palms sweating. Her taser was in her belt, her phone in her pocket, and her only backup was busy making the biggest arrest in Gotham history. 
The apartment was a wreck. 
That was the first thing she noticed. 
For someone so organized in his murders and schemes, the Riddler’s apartment was…messy. Beyond messy. There was stuff everywhere, so much stuff her mind couldn’t make sense of it all. One of the walls was covered in newspapers and painted words, the biggest of which said LIES. 
The door closed beyond her. The lock sliding into place was as loud as a gunshot. 
“I didn’t expect to see you,” the Riddler said pleasantly, as if she’d merely stopped by for a chat and nothing else. 
“I–” she started to say, but her throat was so tight with fear that no sound came out. 
There were notebooks, shelves upon shelves of them, cages, parts of weapons, bomb schematics, so many things scattered over every surface that screamed serial killer that her fingers were going numb with fright. 
He pushed past her, further into the dim and shadowy apartment like he was about to ask her how she liked her coffee. 
“What do you want from me?” she finally managed to ask. 
The Riddler didn’t turn around. He merely went towards an open window and a gun–a rifle–sitting on a tripod aimed at the streets below. 
Her heart stuttered again. All those people, she thought in a blind panic, stumbling forward with one hand out. The Riddler either didn’t notice or didn’t care what she was doing. 
“You’re like me,” he said quietly. “An orphan, chewed up by the city, drowning in its corruption…doing what has to be done to exorcize it. Like an infected wound.” 
She wanted to throw up at his words, almost the exact same words she’d thought earlier before heading up to the building’s roof. She watched his back, one hand edging for her taser. If he started shooting all those cops, the patrons and employees of the club….He could kill a lot of them while they all stood in the street, waiting. What if Lena stepped outside at just the wrong moment? Or Gordon? Or Bruce? 
“I didn’t expect you to find me here before it was all over,” the Riddler continued. “I should have known you would be more clever than I thought.” He seemed…delighted. “How did you find me?” 
“The pictures,” she managed to choke out. “Of Annika and Mitchell. I compared the angle up on the roof. Got lucky I guess.” 
“Hm. Yes. I’m surprised our bat friend didn’t figure it out. No wonder he likes working with you.” The Riddler looked over his shoulder at her, eyes almost twinkling in the low light. 
“What are you planning?” she asked, because that’s what she was here for. Maybe, just maybe, if she distracted him long enough she could take him by surprise. Bruce or Gordon or both had to have gotten her text that she’d found him. One of them would come. They had to. She just had to keep the Riddler talking until then, and not let him take a shot. 
“Oh, that’s not for you to know quite yet. Like I said–I wasn’t planning for you to be here, but that’s just as well. You’ll get a front row seat.” 
“To what?” she asked, anger making her words sharp. She tried to smother her anger, her rage, her fear. If there was any truth to any of the crime shows she’d watched, she knew she needed to stay calm, to play along. That was the safest thing. And she’d promised Bruce she wouldn’t be rash. Just her luck–the one time she was trying not to rush headfirst into danger, it found her first. 
“You’ll see,” he said. “Though I hear you did get a front row seat to my last target. I should have seen that coming.” A flash of something dark in his eyes when he looked at her. “A shame I didn’t succeed.” 
It took her a second. 
He was talking about Bruce. 
He was sad he didn’t kill Bruce was that fucking bomb.
“You fucking bastard,” she snapped. “You try to kill the man I love, then act like you’re just having me over for fucking coffee or something? I’m glad you didn’t succeed! If I could, I’d blow a bomb up in your face, see how you like it!” 
He was facing her fully now, though she could tell he was still paying attention at least slightly to what was going on down below in the street in front of the club. She was suddenly very, very aware that the rifle was the only weapon she could see. Especially since he kept one hand behind his back when he turned towards her. She had her hand on her taser, but it wouldn’t do much good against a gun. And wasn’t it a thing for killers like him to booby trap their own homes? The whole place was probably rigged to blow. 
She swallowed thickly. 
“It’s for your own good!” the Riddler snapped. Darkness and pure, fiery rage flickered in his eyes. “Bruce Wayne and his lying daddy are part of the problem! You of all people should see that!” 
She’d pissed him off. The look in his eyes showed just how unhinged he was, even as the rage banked and died away. The almost blank look that overtook it was scarier than anything else had been so far. 
“Bruce isn’t corrupt,” she said, voice soft. She held one hand out in a placating gesture. “He’s good. Do you think I’d be with him if he weren’t?” 
The Riddler tilted his head to study her, the movement almost predatory. “But you didn’t know about his father, about Falcone, or any of that when you met him, did you?” 
She bit her lip. “No,” she said honestly. “But Bruce would never hire someone to kill someone. Especially not for power.” 
“Then why does he let the Renewal fund continue? Why does he leave Wayne Enterprises to run itself into the ground, connected to people like Carmine Falcone?” He seemed genuinely curious about her answer. 
“I don’t know,” she said, again telling the truth. “But he helped with the Gotham Project. He–he supported me last year, when I–” 
“When you almost died.” The Riddler hummed and turned to look outside briefly. She gripped the taser tighter, ready to strike, but he turned back around again before she could. “I will not miss a second time, y/n,” he finally said after a moment of thought. 
He meant he would kill Bruce next time, given the chance. 
“I’ll kill you before I let that happen,” she snarled, stepping closer. 
The Riddler’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t back down. “Bruce Wayne and all he stands for is just as much a part of the sickness plaguing this city as anything else. Remember how I said it was like an infected wound? If you don’t get out all of the infection, it will fester and grow and take over again. Bruce Wayne may only be a small part of that infection, but it will grow and grow and grow if you do not treat it!” 
He was nearly shouting by the time he finished speaking. Y/n flinched. 
The anger was back, brighter and hotter than before. “Then why didn’t you kill those assholes who’re still in prison? Williams and his ilk? Huh? Why’d you leave me to do all the hard work last year while you cowered away here, watching, waiting for your time to shine? Is that it? You wanted me to get most of the ‘infection’ so you could look good finishing it off? So you could look clever?” 
They were standing almost nose to nose now, her hand gripping the taser. 
His eyes flashed behind his glasses. “No!” he cried, voice almost anguished. “You inspired me. I wasn’t cowering and waiting! I was making my plans! It was all leading to this!” 
She scoffed and stepped back as the hand behind him moved. He was going to shoot her, she realized. He was going to kill her. Her chest squeezed tight with fear. Shit. She shouldn’t have made him mad. Shouldn’t have insulted him. 
And then something worse occurred to her. It was all leading to this, he’d said. 
Ice filled her veins as she realized this might be a plot against Bruce–against Batman. The rifle, the clues, the cards, all of it leading Batman towards this night, this place…
Towards the Riddler’s gun. 
He wanted her to have a front row seat–
To Batman’s death. 
“Put the gun away,” y/n said in a low voice. The Riddler flashed her a smile, all traces of his anguished cries gone in a flash. It was disconcerting, how quickly his emotions wavered back and forth from one moment to the next. 
Please, she thought, getting ready to strike. 
There was a commotion outside the window, a shout. 
Unconcerned by her, the man calling himself the Riddler turned back to the window, adjusted the rifle, and took a shot all in the span of a few seconds. She lurched forward, expecting him to shoot again, but he merely picked up the rifle as if to put it away. 
One shot. He’d only shot one person. 
He stepped away right as she gasped out an anguished “No!” and darted to the window, the taser forgotten in her haste to make sure Bruce was alright. 
Her eyes scanned frantically over the sea of cops and people spilling out of the club until she saw a dark shadow. A ripple of a cape. Pointed ears. He straightened from a crouch. 
Bruce was fine. 
Carmine Falcone was dead at his feet. 
Y/n barely took a breath of relief before pain exploded in her head. 
She thought she heard the words “For your own good,” before darkness overtook her and the world fell away.
Next Chapter
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181 notes · View notes
lec743 · 2 years
Text
Rockstar AU (FNAF Fanfic)
You know. As a normie, I bet Reader would be questioning their relationship with the two amazing rockstars. Also Reader isn’t one to back down from a bet, no matter how stupid it is. Also, also, @kaleidoscopek9, I’m deciding to make it cannon that my Y/N has a minor criminal record, like for trespassing and loitering and jaywalking. All the stupid stuff a person can get into trouble for that’s arrest-able for. They’ve got it on their records
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           Alright. It’s go time. You are in clothes that are as close to what the stagehands wear. You’re wearing a face mask to hide your face. You’re wearing a non-descript hat to hide your hair. You are stand outside the back area of the stadium, and waiting for an opening to casually saunter in.
          Blending in with your clothes wasn’t the only thing you prepped for either. Two weeks before you decided to sneak into the show, you took the time to do some research to know the lingo for what stagehands say and what equipment they normally use. You even found a floor plan of the stadium so that you could mark and memorize all the different escape routes you can get out from if you get caught.
           Is this a lot of work just to see two rockstars you’re not completely sure are your friends? Yah. Is it worth it? You think so. You rationalize that the smiles they give you isn’t just their personas that they use for a strange fan. Moon also visits you at your workplace at Grandma’s Bodega every other month, so that has to mean something.
           The back of the stadium is busy as people are rushing to get last minute jobs done. You see someone struggling to lift some cables and you walk in and help them out.
           “Ah, thanks man,” the stranger said.
           “Of course,” you said.
           Then you and the woman walked up a ramp, past security and into the backstage area. As soon as she was setting the cables down, you were already moving on to see if Moon and Sun were in their dressing room. They weren’t. So, you move on to the look around the backstage area, wondering if you could find them before they had to go on stage. As you squinted through the simi-darkness, you heard someone yell at you.
           “Hey! You!”
           You froze and turned to the voice.
           It was a big burly security guard that was walking up to you. You actually recognized him as the man who initially chased you around the stadium all those months ago. You hoped you weren’t as recognizable to him.
           “Where’s your I.D. badge?” he asked as he stood over you.
           You pat yourself down as you go, “It’s right… Wait. It’s—I know I had it on me,” then you snap your fingers and go, “Oh wait! I probably left it in the bathroom by accident. I’ll go get it.”
           You move to go pretend to get the said I.D. but then the guard grabbed you by the forearm. Then he pulled you closer to him and pulled your mask down. The scowl on his face deepened as recognition shined behind his eyes.
           “You’re coming with me,” he said as he tightened his grip on your forearm.
           “Nah. I’m good.”
          You swung your arm down, breaking his grip on you by the fingers, and you ran. As you ran you heard him chasing after you and using his walkie-talkie to tell his security team that there was a breach on the premises. You did your best to make it hard on him to follow you; serpentining through people’s work, equipment, and people in general. You weren’t wanting to mess anything up too badly, but you also didn’t want to get caught.
          A couple of security guards blocked your first choice of an exit, and you make a wide U-turn as you go around the back of the stage. You hid in the shadows of a curtained area and once you heard them run past you, you frantically looked around for that small door you remember seeing on your map. The small door is supposed to be a side door that leads out to a private parking lot.
          You find it in the simi-darkness just as you hear the security team charging back towards you. You bust through the door and hide among the vehicles. There were a few buses, trucks, and normal looking cars. As you crouched among the vehicles the security team ran out through the door. You heard them yelling about spreading out to find you.
          You were slowly inching your way towards the gate that leads out of the isolated parking lot, and as you were hiding behind the front of a bus, you heard someone whisper at you.
          “Hey, Kid, what do yah think yah’re doin’?”
          You look up to see a gentleman in maybe his fifties. He looked like your stereotypical trucker, with a mesh baseball cap with a fish on the front, a salt and pepper ginger handle mustache, and he was super tan.
          When you looked up at him in surprise, his eyes widened at you like he recognized you.
          “Hidin’ from security?”
          You nod.
          The trucker man looked around then he said, “Come on. I’ll let yah hide on the bus.”
          You scramble to the other side of the bus and the door was open like he said. You climbed up the little stairs as it closed behind you and scrambled past the man to the back of the bus. It was a fancy bus, with little succulents setting on the windowsills, and a lot of blue and yellow plush pillows, and there were small portable instruments like a small keyboard and acoustic guitar. You made it to the back of the bus and hid in the bathroom. You sat in there for a bit, contemplating the wisdom of trusting a stranger like this when you heard the door to the bus get knocked on.
          From the bathroom you heard, “Hey, Mark. Have you seen a trespasser hiding out here?”
          “Nope. Don’t believe I have.”
          “Well, be careful. Who knows what they want with Faz-co’s property.”
          You made a face at that. Sure, Fazbear Entertainment created Sun and Moon and all the other fun themed animatronics, and by technicality they own them because of that, but they don’t own them spiritually…
          “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out.” You heard the trucker man say.
          There was a long pause, and you took the time to think about the ethics of how a company literally makes sentient robots and how they trap them into things they may or may not like or want to do, when there was a knock on the bathroom stall.
          “Ah!”
          “Yah better not be takin’ a shit in there. The bus isn’t designed for solid waste like that.”
          You open the door just a crack and look up at the man. “Do you know me?”
          “Yah’re quite famous around this entertainment establishment, or well… The boys haven’t stopped talkin’ about you since that little marriage license prank you pulled.”
          You opened the door all the way with a groan. You really were never going to live that down. You should have just done a funny picture signing or something instead. Ah, well… You still wouldn’t trade those signed fake marriage licenses for anything anyways.
          “So… Mark, right?” The trucker man nods. “Thanks for hiding me. I’ll get out of your hair.”
          Mark steps back as you get out of the bathroom and he says, “Yah don’t have to go. Yah can stay in here until Sun and Moon get done with their show and I have to drive them back to HQ. They’d love to see yah.”
          You keep your back to him as you fiddle with your fingers. “And you’re okay with that? With some weirdo fan hanging out with them?” You turn around to face him.
          Mark takes his hat off to smooth back his graying ginger hair as he said, “Look. I’m their driver. Not their babysitter. If they want to spend time with a fan, then that’s their business. And like I said, they would love to see yah again.”
          You sway back and forth on your feet and say, “Sooooo… What should we do as we wait?”
          “Want to watch the live stream feed of Moon and Sun’s show?”
          You brightened at the offer. “I would love that!”
          You gather up the pillows and Mark gets out his phone and the two of you sit on the couch as you watch Sun and Moon play live at the concert as you hide in their bus. When the show was over, it was still going to be a while, so you learned about Mark.
          You learned that Mark has been Moon and Sun’s driver for a decade now. You’ve learned that’s he’s more than a fan of the robotic rockstars, and he treats them more like his sons. He get’s the bots things that Faz-Co would deem not needed for them, when it absolutely was needed for their emotional wellbeing and he would sometimes drive them around longer routes for them to have the chance to look around more. It’s gotten the man in trouble more times than he can count, but he doesn’t mind getting into trouble for them.
          You chuckle at the notion and say, “Yah... I don’t mind getting into trouble for them either.”
          Mark gives you a soft smile and ruffled the hair on your head. “Yah know what. I don’t think yah’re just a weirdo fan. Yah’re alright, Kid.”
          “Wanna trade phone numbers?”
          “Sure.”
          As the two of you were swapping phone numbers, there was a knock on the bus door.
          Mark stood up and readjusted his pants as he walked. “That’s my cue.”
          You stayed seated in the bus, confident that the bus windows were thickly tinted enough to hide your form. You heard Mark speak with the security team that was escorting Sun and Moon and then Sun walked into the bus. He looked tired and sad and happy all at the same time. It made you want to give him a hug. When you locked eyes with him, he froze.
          You brought a finger to your lips in a sush-ing motion as you gave him a small smile. Moon walked in and was frozen at the sight of you too. You waved at him.
          When Mark closed the door, he pushed aside the two bots and said, “Come on boys. Did you freeze on us? They got chased by security just to see you two.”
          Moon wheezed and said, “No! You didn’t!”
          “Yep. I tried sneaking into your show.”
          Sun leaped for you. Static-ly, squealing happily as he embraced you into a firm hug, “How’s our favorite little Star!”
          You laugh at the affection, hugging him back. Moon moves around the two of you and sit on the couch with you, his arm resting comfortably over your shoulders as you and Sun talked. Mark watched the seen a bit with a small smile on his face, then he moved to his seat and started up the bus.
          “You guys were amazing as always with your performance.”
          “Thanks Angel,” Moon rasped as he leaned against you more.
          Sun rested his head more comfortably in your lap as the bus started to drive out of the private parking lot, with Sun’s arms wrapped lightly around your midsection. You mindlessly ran your fingers lightly over Sun’s rays. They felt like soft plastic.
          “I thought it was really funny how you kept losing and then making more drumsticks appear on your person as the songs went, Sun.”
          “Thank you. I thought it was funny too.”
          “How many are you able to keep on your person at a time, anyways?”
          The bus bounces a bit as Mark drives over a speedbump.
          Sun sits up more and makes a show of how he doesn’t have anything in his hands. Then he acts surprised, like there’s something behind your ear. Then the pulls out four drumsticks from behind your ear. You cackle at the sight.
          “That’s amazing!”
          “Thank you. A bit of old coding and practice,” Sun said, preening from the praise.
          You turn your attention to Moon and said, “I also like that thing you do with your voice when you sing Golden Horizon. You sound so ethereal. It gives me the best shivers.”
          “You mean, like this?” Moon’s voice was low and soft, with a bit of a rasp that had so many feelings in it. You felt your skin prickle in goosebumps.
          “Yah! Amazing.”
          Moon chuckled lowly. “Thank you.”
          The three of you talked a bit more about different things, but you didn’t know how much longer this drive will last, so you pushed through your nervousness and decided to just blurt it out.
          “Are we friends!?”
          “Huh?” They both asked.
          “I mean,” you side eye Moon, “I’ve only ever seen you guys at the concerts, so we don’t see each other often. So, I don’t want to get presumptuous on what we are to each other and whatnot.” You said tapering off at the end as you lost more confidence the more you spoke to Sun and Moon’s staring.
          You especially avoided eye contact with Moon. You don’t know who knows about his late-night wanderings from the company, but you certainly weren’t about to out him now. If he’s going to tell someone, you’ll give him the chance to let him tell them by his own admission.
          You felt a metal hand on your shoulder, and you were turned to face Moon. “We’re friends, Angel.”
          “Really,” you said, unable to help the surprised sound in your voice.
          “Well, only if you want to.” Sun spoke up quickly as you turned to look at him. “We don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
          “That’s what I was worried about too! I don’t want to make you guys uncomfortable either.”
          “Oh, come now. We’re married,” Sun teased.
          “You’d never make us uncomfortable,” Moon added jokingly.
          You pouted as Moon and Sun chuckled over your reaction.
          “Alright.” Mark said from the driver seat. “We’re at a stop light. I’m goin’ to have to kick yah off, Kid.”
          You sigh sadly. Moon leans a little heavier into you and Sun’s rays shrink into his head.
          “Okay. Okay,” you say as you get up, “I’m going. Bye guys.”
          “Bye Star.”
          “Bye Angel.”
          Both animatronics gave you sad little waves as you walked off the bus.
          “Give me a text when yah get home okay. I don’t want to be worried to death that I left yah in a death trap of a neighborhood or somethin’.”
          “I will Mark,” you said before the bus door closed behind you and you quickly ran off the road for the sidewalk.
          You stand on the sidewalk and watch the bus drive off. The glass was tinted so darkly, even if the animatronics were waving goodbye to you through the window, you wouldn’t be able to see it. It didn’t stop you from waving goodbye to the bus. Once the bus was out of sight, you walked to the nearest bus stop to take you home.
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the-real-dickmaster · 3 months
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*Floating… Dreaming… Dreaming of someone to actually love him. Someone that would actually ***care*** for him and not just use him for his presidential status and money. Someone…*
***BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!***
*Obama jumped as he was scared wide awake by his alarm clock, groaning as he rubbed his temples. Another day of literal torture. Being the president isn’t as easy as it looks, y’know. Constantly being bombarded with questions, having loads of work, and never having enough time to yourself. It’s truly exhausting! Obama sat up and looked over to the side of his king-sized bed in search of his wife. Gone. Where is she now? Probably “hanging out” with Dwayne Johnson again. He gulped as he fought back tears, thinking about how alone he truly was. Why couldn’t he have a loyal partner at his side as they ruled the country together? It isn’t fair! He huffed as he jumped out of bed, stomping over to his closet to get ready for the day. He grabbed his usual attire, a clean button up white shirt with a navy blue suit to go with it. Obama whined as he went into the bathroom, stubbing his delicate toe along the way. Why is everything going wrong today?! Growling angrily, Barack brushed back his long and luscious hair and brushed his pearly white teeth, fake grinning in the mirror to make sure he didn’t miss anything. After he finished getting ready, he headed downstairs where he saw his assistant, George Cooper, waiting for him. George nodded his head to the older man as a sign of respect before he walked over to him, holding Obama’s schedule for the day as he cleared his throat.* “Sir, today you have an appointment with the vice president at 10:00, a lunch with the owner of McDonalds at 12:00, a meeting with…” *His assistant blushed for a second before speaking.* “S-shrek… and at 6:00 you will be attending a Harry Styles concert.” *Obama smiled softly as he nodded. He doesn’t really have much to do today! Walking over to the kitchen to get breakfast, he greeted the chefs as they cooked for him.* “What’s on the menu today, guys?” *He asked with joy in his voice, masking the true pain he feels. The chefs laughed as they answered the question.* “Egg whites, turkey sausage, hash browns, and wheat toast!” *Barack giggled excitedly as he clapped his hands. That was his favorite meal, so at least ***something*** was going right today! The moment the chef laid his food before him, Obama gobbled it up like there was no tomorrow. George Cooper smiled softly, pleased by his boss’s excitement. Standing up, Obama wiped his face and walked out to the car with his assistant, ready to start the day now that he’s had a nice breakfast. You know what? He wasn’t going to let his wife ruin his mood! Proud of himself, he daydreamed until they got to the vice president’s office, knocking on the door politely.* “This is going to be incredibly boring…” *He joked to George as the door opened…. And it was. The next few hours were absolutely terrible! He was very grateful to finally be out of the office when it finished, breathing in the fresh outside air. The two walked together to the local McDonalds, glad to get something in their stomach. Walking into the fast-food restaurant, they were immediately welcomed by the owner of McDonalds. The next few hours were a blast as they laughed and ate delicious food! After a while, Obama rubbed his belly and huffed.* “Well, guys, I’m stuffed!” *All three men chuckled as they said their goodbyes and parted ways.*
*Obama smirked at George as he remembered the next task on the schedule* “Heyyy, I bet you’re excited about seeing Shrek again!” *George groaned, embarrassed as he hid his face with his sleeve. After they finally got there and did what they needed to do, they got out in preparation for the Harry Styles’ concert. They rushed back to the White House as they held hands, skipping along the sidewalk. When they finally got there, George left and went to his room to get ready as Barack gulped, walking in his room. He knew his wife would be there, angry at him once again. And he was right. The moment he walked in, his wife screeched at him.* “Where have you been?!” *Obama sighed as he rubbed his temples once more, not in the mood to deal with her whining.* “President duties. What about you?” *His wife growled as she stomped out, yelling back.* “That’s none of your business, buckaroo!” *Obama laughed to himself, proud that he stood his ground. As he opened his closet, he looked around for his fanciest dress. One caught his eye in particular. A shining gold dress that was covered in beautiful jewels. Gasping, he put the dress on and stared into the mirror. He looked… beautiful… He quickly ran out to the car, where George was already waiting for him.* “C’mon, Sir, we’re gonna be late!” *He laughed happily as Obama jumped in the car, blushing as he imagined Harry Styles. After a few hours of driving, they finally got there. Sitting in their front row seats, Obama looked around anxiously. Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and Harry Styles made his way onto the stage, the crowd roaring and chanting his name in unison.* “‘Ello, everyone!” *He yelled out into the crowd in his beautiful British accent. He then began singing, and Obama felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Harry was so… so perfect. Harry Styles noticed the blushing president and looked at him, blushing as well. Obama gasped as they made eye contact, feeling as if time stopped. He stared into Harry’s gorgeous green orbs, green like a fresh pasture. Green like a shimmering emerald. Green like-* “Sir?” *Barack quickly stopped as he heard George’s voice.* “Are you okay, Sir? You’re blushing really hard!” *Obama giggled as he fanned himself with his hand, attempting to cool down.* “I-I-I’m fine!” *He stuttered out, staring at Harry Styles once more. Time went by quickly, and eventually, the concert was over. Before they were about to leave, Harry Styles leaped off of the stage and grabbed Obama’s wristed, stopping him from going anywhere else. They both blushed as they stared at each other.* “H-h-h-hey…” *Harry began.* “I saw you blushing at me earlier, and I was wondering if you’d… like to have dinner with me?” *Harry laughed nervously as he asked, sweating. Obama gasped as he laughed as well.* “O-o-o-of course! H-h-h-hey, George? You can go back home…” *He said nervously as he turned back to George Cooper. His assistant left, leaving just the two of them in an empty stadium.* “S-s-so, where would you like to go, Mr. President?” *They both laughed as Obama blushed.* “A-a-anywhere… I guess… Heh… As long as I’m with you….” *They both smiled softly as they held hands, running to the closest restaurant. Was this a date? Obama wondered to himself as he stared at their connected hands. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but all he knows is that…. Heh… he loves this man, and this man loves him… That’s all he ever wanted in the first place..*
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I am too scared to look at this. Both me and Adam are scared. Although he won’t admit it.
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