#Turtles in Space Part Three- “The Big House” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlwiththereapertattoo · 3 years

Text

begin again - part four

Jax Teller x female!Reader

Summary: After the return of her abusive ex-boyfriend, the reader plots her escape

Word count: 2,9k words

Warnings: bad language, alludes to the death of a minor character, physical & verbal abuse & kinda angsty

Author's note: Enjoy the fourth installment and all feedback is welcome! :)

If you’re in an abusive relationship or you suspect that someone you know is being abused, speak up and reach out to the correct people!

Beta read by @crucifixedbitch

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

💀💀💀💀💀

You examine your face in the mirror, pleased with the job you’ve done to conceal the marks left by B/N. Last night was brutal and you would do anything to erase it from your memory. To never have it happen again.

“Toots!” A loud pounding sounds on the bathroom door, “Come on, sweetheart, we’ve got to go.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I-I’ll be there in a second.” Moving quickly, you pack your makeup back into your cosmetic bag. “I just need to grab my bag.”

“Five minutes, okay?” he sounds irritated with you. “We’ll wait outside.”

With a shaking hand, you zip the bag closed and leave the bathroom for the bedroom. Your handbag is on the bed but your phone’s not on its usual spot at your bedside table and you just know B/N has something to do with its disappearance. And you know that it’ll be a while before you see it again. You’re so upset, it brings tears to your eyes but there’s no time for them. He’s waiting for you and being late will lead to trouble.

S/N and B/N are on the small patch of grass outside the house, kicking around a ball.

“You gotta kick the ball to me, okay kid? You gotta kick it hard.”

S/N scurries towards the ball and kicks it so hard, it zooms between B/N’s open legs and bounces off of the fence. They both cheer from excitement, and S/N runs straight into B/N’s open arms.

“That was amazing, buddy!”

You clap your hands, drawing their attention to you.

“Did you see that, Mommy?”

“I did, ace, and it was so good.” You walk over to join them on the grass, “Hey, sweet boy.”

You haven’t seen your son all morning. You lift him off the ground and hug him to your chest, it feels good to hold him so close to you, and for the second time in the last five minutes, you feel you might cry. The three of you make your way over to B/N’s rental SUV parked on the small driveway.

“Mommy, are you feeling cold?”

You briefly glance over to B/N who’s prepping the baby car seat. “A little. Mommy’s not feeling too well.”

“Do you need chicken soup?”

You chuckle and press a kiss to his forehead, “Will you help me make it when we get back?”

He pinky promises you to. You hand him over to B/N who buckles him into the car seat. It’s not his intention, but you can’t help but feel humiliated by S/N’s question. A turtleneck and jeans in the dead of the summer in Charming, California? That’s sure to raise suspicions.

“Baby, do you not think I should stay behind?”

B/N turns in his seat, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

Pointing at your turtle neck, you explain, “It’s going to draw attention. It’s summer and I’m dressed for winter.”

“And you care what these people think of you?”

Yes, a lot. It’s your fucking hometown, of course, you care! You want to scream at him, claw at his face, but you’re weak. Pathetic. You can’t even muster the courage to get away from him.

“Sweetheart, no one’s going to be looking at you. Trust me.”

Ouch.

“Don’t ruin this outing by being so self-obsessed.” He starts the car’s engine and backs out of the driveway, “Do you want to listen to some music, buddy?”

Today’s your last day in Charming, B/N’s orders. Later on today, you’ll embark on a five-day road trip back to North Carolina. The idea of being trapped in the car with B/N has you regretting every decision you have made in your life that has led you to this point. Forty fucking hours? The car just isn’t big enough and no amount of eagerness from S/N can change your mind.

“When we get back, I need to see Mabel.”

Mabel’s a friendly neighbor who lives down the street from your mother’s. She moved to Charming a few months before your escape to Charlotte, and since your return, she has been a great help.

“Who’s Mabel?”

“She lives down the road.”

“Why do you need to see her?”

To use her phone to call Jax. “I want to give all my mother’s old furniture to charity. She offered to help me organize it.” It’s a believable lie, “It shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

After a dragged-out silence, he murmurs a soft ‘okay’ and warns you not to do anything stupid. “I might not be able to stop myself this time around.”

The chilling part is that it’s not an empty threat. You look back at S/N who’s softly singing along to ‘Old MacDonald Had A Farm’, gazing out the car window. Leaving Charming was a decision you made for his sake, to protect him from his father’s world. To give him a shot at a normal childhood, to raise him away from gangs and violence. Instead, you found yourself in the clutches of a wicked man who will one day kill you.

“Mommy, will we see Abel before we leave?”

“No,” B/N responds before you can.

God, you fucking hate him. Your feelings towards him are violent, and you’ve got to come out of the car before you act recklessly.

“Stop the car.” You unbuckle your seatbelt prompting the seatbelt alarm to go off. “Stop the car, B/N, now!”

He pulls into the empty parking space in front of a bridal shop. You frantically open the car door and stumble out of the vehicle, gasping for air. So glad to have distance from the devil you call your boyfriend.

“Toots, what’s wrong?”

You take a step away from him, needing the space. “I need to breathe, B/N.”

That upsets him. “What are you trying to do? Huh? Get in the fucking car so I can drive to the grocery store.”

You pace around in a circle on the sidewalk, contemplating your next move. You can’t run off, B/N could easily catch you and S/N’s still in the car. You can’t leave him, even though you know B/N would never harm him. He loves him too much. Think, think, think! You have a moment of clarity when you look across the street and see who you believe to be Bobby Munson sitting at an ice cream shop. What are the odds?

“Ice cream and candy!” You spin to look at B/N who’s shooting daggers at you. “I want ice cream and we need candy for the road trip, don’t we?”

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

You walk back to the car to open S/N’s door and start unbuckling him from his car seat. “D’you want ice cream, ace?”

His face lights up. “Ice cream! Ice cream!” he chants.

“Alright. Come on.” You shut the car door, S/N clutched tightly in your arms, “It’s just a small pit stop. Do you want any?”

B/N looks furious but there isn’t much he can do to you out in the open. He’s starting towards you when his work phone starts ringing. He has to take the call and so he tells you to go ahead, he’ll meet you inside the shop. You flash him a smile and make your way to Scoops & Sweets. Now that you’re closer, you’re certain it’s Bobby, and he’s standing behind the counter with his arm in a sling, drinking beer.

“Bobby?”

“Y/N?” His stony expression morphs into a smile, “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Bobby.” For the first time in the last 12 hours, you feel safe. “I thought it was you.”

“Who’s the kid?”

“This is S/N,” you look proudly at your son. “Say hello to Bobby, ace?”

Bashful, he waves awkwardly at Bobby before concealing his face in the crook of your neck. You casually look over your shoulder to check if B/N’s still on his call before you turn back to Bobby.

“Bobby, is there a phone I can use? I want to call Jax, there’s something I want to tell him, and my phone’s broken.”

He looks out the window to B/N who’s pacing next to the rental. “Why didn’t you ask your friend to use his phone?”

“He doesn’t like to share.”

Bobby looks back at you. “Jax’s upstairs. Come, I’ll take you up to him. Bring the kid.”

Bobby calls for Chuckie who emerges from what you assume to be the staff break room. When you last saw Chuckie, he had fingers.

“What happened to your fingers?”

“Chinese cut them off,” he holds up his prosthetic hands. “These were a gift from Gemma.”

You regret asking. Bobby orders him to keep watch of the shop and starts leading you towards the flight of stairs.

“Uh Chuckie, a man will come in here looking for me. Could you tell him I went into the bathroom?”

Chuckie nods and you continue on your way with Bobby.

“Is this the new clubhouse?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Bobby leads you and S/N down a short hallway and stops in front of a closed door. He knocks once before he opens it, “Visitor for Jax Teller.”

The men in the room, consisting of Jax, Chibs, Tig, Happy, and Juice, all turn to the door. From their expressions, you’d swear they’ve just seen a ghost. You might as well be a ghost.

Jax raises off his chair and crosses the space to join you at the door. “Is everything okay?”

“Hi, boys. I’m sorry for interrupting your meeting,” suddenly, coming to Jax seems like a bad idea. But B/N. You put S/N on the ground. “I just wanted to see you before we leave this afternoon.”

Jax scowls.

“We’re headed back home to North Carolina. Driving.” You throw your arms around your ex, wincing at the discomfort you feel at the contact. “I’m so glad I could see you again.”

He returns your hug, holding you flush against him and you don’t care that you’re in pain. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that the bottom hem of your sweater’s risen, probably exposing the bruises on your lower back. There’s a pang of pain in your heart when he releases you. The tears blur your vision. God, you hate that you’re so emotional today.

“How are you getting home?”

“B/N arrived last night, he’s waiting for us downstairs.” Probably impatient and suspicious. “We should probably get going.”

Downstairs, B/N’s at the counter listening to Chuckie recount the time he had his fingers cut off by Lin’s men. S/N leaps out of your arms and runs over to B/N.

“Here’s your candy.” Chuckie slides two bags of candy to you, “Don’t worry about paying, it’s on the house.”

You smile at him. “Thank you.”

B/N snatches the candy from the counter and the three of you make your way out of the shop. It’s a short trip to the grocery store and luckily for you, there aren’t a lot of people buying groceries whilst you’re there. The tension from earlier has subsided, and the ride back to your mother’s house is a sing-along with S/N leading you. You’re helping B/N unload the bag of groceries from the car when you spot a familiar van at the end of your street.

“When will you go to Mabel’s?”

“After lunch,” you start unpacking the groceries, “I’m sure you boys are hungry.”

“Starving.” He leans over to press a kiss to the side of your head, “I’ll have a beer with my lunch.”

He leaves you in the kitchen to join S/N who’s building Lego in the living room. You’ve just finished laying all the lunch ingredients on the counter when you hear the thunderous roar of a motorcycle outside your house. Shortly after, a knock sounds.

“I’ll get it,” you call from the kitchen.

Unfortunately, B/N beats you to the door. He angrily signals for you to go back into the kitchen.

“Do as you’re fucking told,” he warns through gritted teeth. “Go back to the kitchen.”

You open your mouth to protest but he marches over to you, grabbing your arm harshly, and drags you through the kitchen to the laundry nook.

“You’re hurting me!” you complain, struggling in his firm grip.

The sound of the back of his hand connecting with your cheek bounces off the walls of the small space. You forcefully shove him away from you and try to escape but he hooks a strong arm around your waist and hauls you back into the nook.

“Let go of me!” you claw at his arms and the pain causes him to release you.

“You little bitch!”

He lunges towards you but you’re quicker than him. You grab the first item in your reach which happens to be an iron and whack him on the head with enough force to make him cry out from the pain. You dash past him and run to open the front door at the same time Jax is about to shoot at the door.

His scowl deepens at your disheveled appearance. “Where is he?”

“In the laundry nook. I hit him on the head but he’s still conscious.”

“Where is the kid?”

S/N! You run into the living room, your eyes frantically searching around the space for your little boy. His Legos are strewn on the floor but there’s no sight of him. “S/N?”

“Mommy!”

He’s behind the couch. You find him curled up, his eyes closed and his hands covering his ears.

“My baby.” You scoop him in your arms and carry him towards the front door. “Jax?”

He calls back from the kitchen and tells you to go outside. “Rat’s got the van out front.”

“But Jax–”

“Go!”

You rush out of the house, S/N cradled in your arms. You’ve just stepped onto the patch of grass when you hear grunts coming from the house. Ratboy meets you at the gate and takes S/N from your shaking hands to carry to the van. He helps you into the vehicle before he climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Where are you taking us?”

“Gemma’s.”

💀💀💀💀💀

S/N and Abel are asleep in Jax’s old bedroom and you’re sitting at Gemma’s dining table staring blankly into space. If you had been told a week ago that you’d be seeking asylum at Gemma Teller’s home, you wouldn’t have believed it. You replay the last twenty-four hours in your head, you’re somewhat in disbelief of all that’s happened.

Gemma places a gentle hand on your shoulder, drawing you back to reality. “Here you go sweetheart,” she places a steaming mug of herbal tea in front of you, “it should help calm your nerves.”

“Thank you.” You place both of your shaking hands on the mug, watching as Gemma takes her place across the table from you. “Have you heard anything from Jax?”

“No,” she reaches for the box of cigarettes on the table. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

You nod, your eyes dropping to the mug. “Did he… did he tell you why he had Ratboy bring me here?”

“Psycho boyfriend,” she takes a pull from the lit cigarette. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

The shame brings fresh tears springing to your eyes. It makes it worse to know that this time around, S/N was awake to hear it all. You feel like you’ve failed him, exposed him to the very thing you vowed to protect him from when you left Charming all those years ago.

“What do I tell S/N?”

“Nothing,” she stubs out the cigarette in the ashtray. “You shouldn’t worry yourself with that right now. You should try get some sleep, you can worry about that tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight.” You take a small sip of the hot tea and sigh, “This is all my fault.”

“Sweetheart, no.”

“It is and now I’ve gone and gotten Jax involved in this mess.” The frustration is eating at you, “I just–”

You’re cut off by the kitchen door opening. Jax’s back. Thank the heavens! Gemma rushes over to greet him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“I’m fine, Mom.”

Joining you at the table, Jax pulls you into him and tenderly strokes your back. All your fears and concerns are alleviated once you’re in his arms.

“Did he hurt you?”

He chuckles and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You shouldn’t be worrying yourself with that.”

“I can’t help it,” you laugh through your tears.

“You should get some rest.”

“All my stuff is back at my mom’s.” The thought of returning to the scene of last night’s brutality has you shuddering. You pull away from Jax and roughly dry your tears. “I don’t… I can’t–”

Jax pulls you back into him, holding you tighter than before, and gently rocks you. “He’ll never hurt you again.”

Guilt. You feel a tremendous amount of guilt. Is he dead? Possibly, and your guilt deepens when you recognize a small part of you overjoyed by the possibility. He deserves it. How could you even think that? No one deserves to die — not even B/N.

“How are you going to get rid of the body?”

He doesn’t respond to your question, instead, he tells you that he’ll get Rat to bring yours and S/N’s bags to Gemma’s.

“Jax, don’t leave,” you plead, the surge of panic hits you like a freight train and has you fisting the hem of his shirt. “Stay.”

He presses a kiss to your covered shoulder. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you.

💀💀💀💀💀

PART FIVE

tag list:

@princesssterek @derangedcupcake @furiouscopshepherduniversity @crucifixedbitch @holl2712 @sweet--catrastrophe @marvelsmylife @brittjulianne97 @few-proud-emotonal @zozebo @lovinnholland @adaydreamaway08

197 notes · View notes

mminttae · 3 years

Text

Clandestine | 02

-> Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x reader

-> Genre : tattoo!artist Jungkook, mafia! JJK,mafia au, bloody!missions, slight violence, got secrets they can't tell, angst, romance, Jungkook's part time job is flirting, sad (backstory), Y/N is strong!

-> Summary : who would have known that just doing a part time job at a night club would lead you to the tattoo artist Jeon Jungkook's messed up world. One letter related to the secret comes out of your mouth you'll be laying in Jungkook's arms but alive or not, that's not guaranteed...

-> Word Count : 4.286 K ( A/N: I’m increasing words )

-> T/W body language, killing, curse words and intimacy are included in the story (you may read if you're comfortable with these)

Part : 2

<< previous chap

.・゜-: ✧ :-playlist -: ✧ :-゜・．

Jungkook's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Even if me saying that line didn't flatten him enough I knew the nickname did as it always have been doing. It was clearly visible that he didn't expect me to be this bold suddenly. But he being himself smirked after a couple of seconds as his hand snaked up to grab my wrist pulling me more closer "Sure princess.. Do you want to go to the trip now? " His tongue rolling over his bottom lip as his piercing doe eyes holding so many thoughts looked at my lips then to my eyes.

"I don't want to interrupt but the trip has to be postponed "Jimin interferes in the moment, his eyes narrowed and only looking at me as if scared that the younger guy would throw him out if he locked eyes with his. Making a 'tch' sound Jungkook raises his eyebrows at Jimin in a manner that reads he's asking why postpone. I yeet his hand which was holding my wrist and get off from the table clearing my throat while fixing the skirt and apron. Jungkook clearly disappointed for not being able to hear my answer gets up from the seat while putting the black leather jacket around his shoulders. Jimin and Taehyung following him gets up too grabbing their bags. Jungkook walked up to me while fixing his bangs with his index finger.

"Gotta go princess a client's waiting" Nodding I proceeded to walk away but I could hear Jungkook saying with a sad dramatic tone. "Atleast act that you don't want me to go". I'm afraid I won't be able to because I myself don't know what this client of yours gonna do if you don't go on time. Is the person waiting even a client or not? Knitting my eyebrows I look back only to meet with strangers taking up the seat. The three tall mesmerizing men with inks on their body not to be seen anywhere. I don't know what's going on in that foolish yet extremely clever brain of yours but...

Be careful Mr. Artbook..

End of YOUR POV

Mid summer yet the night breeze is able to run shivers down your spine. Not a single soul in sight.

10 at night maybe the shopkeepers closed down the shutters and went to bed. Not many shops here in this area to even begin with. The only workshop's bell which rings here is the Jeon's Tattoo corner which has been ringing from the morning today , seemed to have stopped in the evening but now making its sound again. "Argh I should really break down this bell "

With an annoyed expression the black haired guy opens the drawers searching for a fresh towel. The tall man who just entered the shop walked past the desk table, turning the door knob and allowing himself inside the cozy room. His loud footsteps on the wooden floor telling Jungkook that the guest has arrived.

"Where were you? I waited here for five minutes then went inside the nearby plant store to kill time"

Taking off the long coat the tall silver haired guy walks up to the chair positioned in the middle of the room beside the various tools. "Sorry hyung, Taehyung and Jimin wanted a new tattoo so went to hear out their designs"

Jungkook says, eyebrows knitted while he fishes out the stencil of the beautiful clematis he has drawn beforehand of the leader's arrival. Smiling to himself he walks up to the seated boss whose like a big brother to him, he puts the stencil aside. Taking out a black rubber band from his pocket he takes his hair and ties it up to a small ponytail before taking out a drawer full of tattoo needles and inks. "Heard that Yoongi started boxing classes with you"

The older male speaks as his lip corners slowly moves upwards. Jungkook giving out a laugh says, "Yea Yoongi hyung be moving like a turtle. "

The thought of his hyung boxing and whining that it's hard is enough to make the little one giggle. Taking out a small wooden stool with one hand as the other one was holding the tattoo gun, Jungkook sits himself beside the strong looking man who rolls up his shirt's sleeves revealing all the different type of arts and words of different languages tattooed on his arm.

"Need chewing gum?"

The younger one asks at the thought that it might hurt but the older one replies plainly that he's fine after all his skin had been coming in contact with this gun for a long time now. Jungkook nods before resting the needle on the free space on the top of the man's biceps before starting to draw on it, the awestrucking clematis. "Was thinking of getting a lip piercing but not being able to get it cuz of the adults in the house"

The man says while his dimples makes visits to his cheeks.

"The exact same reason why am postponing on getting an eyebrow piercing"

Jungkook replies as he carefully moves the tattoo gun sideways on the man's bicep.

"So when are you planning on telling your sister?"

He asks as the silver haired guy closes his eyes once realizing what Jungkook meant.

"When the time's right.. "

He replies, slowly opening his eyes his gaze meeting the ceiling.

"But first we need to pinpoint Mr. Choi's location"

Replying with a small and quiet yes Jungkook draws the details on the flower carefully.

"Seokjin has been checking the cctvs regularly and the only thing he found was the black hyundai stopping at a night club at exactly 7pm every Tuesday and Wednesday"

"What's the night club's name? "

Jungkook asks as he draws on the small leaves.

"Hell's night club"

With just the mention of the night club's name Jungkook's hand stops moving as his eyes widened. "Isn't that the club you often visit with the others? "

The silver haired man asks making Jungkook quietly nod his head. If the most feared mafia in the country slash his team's biggest rival had been going to the exact same club at the exact same time as his how come he never saw the familiar old man's face? He thought.

What kind of person does the man disguise him as that even Jimin who encountered him multiple times doesn't notice. "You should be careful and try to see your clients faces carefully and see if they match that old fart's face or not"

Jungkook humming a response continued on giving the clematis it's final touch. Finishing the tattoo he removes the gun making the silver haired man sit up straight and fix his shirt.

"You know what to do right?"

Jungkook asks referring to putting on Vaseline ointment on the tattoo and stuffs. The older guy nods while fetching his coat. "I'll get going then. Thanks for the tattoo kook"

Jungkook simply nods his mind stuck in a different topic. Putting the equipments away and tidying up the towels as the older guy leaves the shop and disappears into the darkness of the night in the empty alleyway, Jungkook couldn't help but think about what you were up to. His mind stitching up different negative thoughts together.

"If Mr. Choi is really going to that club then he must have seen Y/N always talking to us..... What if he does something to her? " Jungkook asks to himself and the next thing he does is take his bag, turn off the lights, lock the doors and run off to meet you.

• -

"I'll be off then"

Bowing politely you take hold of the two big disposable bags and huff out a breathe when you realize how heavy both of them were. Kicking the back staff door with your leg open the first thing you see is Jeon Jungkook leaning on the wall infront. His hair tied up in a small ponytail, a bag hung around his shoulder and inked hands resting inside his jeans pockets. His eyes falls on your hands holding the disposable garbage bags, sighing he walks up to you.

"I thought your job was to serve and take orders not bring out garbages" You looked down at the bags in your hands while saying, "I was coming out anyways it's no biggie"

You flashed him a small smile but his eyes looked worried and his face tensed. You wondered what happened but didn't dare to ask thinking that he will only answer with 'none of your business' . Yes Jeon Jungkook unknowingly says harsh things without thinking when he's tensed. Jungkook takes the garbage bags from your hands and put it beside the door when his eyes lands on your right hand which was bandaged. His eyes widen and he quickly took your right hand examining it while asking

"How did this happen? Are you okay? "

Embarrassed you put your hand away from his warm ones and answer while smiling, not making eye contact

"It's okay I'm fine these kind of injuries are meant to happen if you work in a bar." Jungkook not convinced took your hand again now keeping it infront of him not letting you pull it back. His eyebrows knitted . "You were totally fine this evening tell me what happened". Chewing on your bottom lip you look down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

"Y/N tell me what happened.." Jungkook says once again this time his voice laced with concern as his hands caressed your hair. You were actually a bit taken aback at how the always dominant voice of Jungkook is making its way to you in a concerned and soft way.

"A drunk guy harshly pulled my hand wanting me to sit beside him but I fought back and he suddenly let go of me making me loose my balance at hit the edge of the glass table behind and that's how I got this"

You say while looking at your bandaged hand which was now resting in jungkook's warm palm. He softly held your injured hand and lower down a bit to meet your height. Looking at your eyes he said

"Tell me who did this. Tell me who did this to you I'm gonna fucking kill him"

In a calm soft voice but the last part obviously didn't come out in a soft way. You laughed and pushed him a bit away from you. "It's okay am fine don't overreact he was drunk" But Jungkook not buying the answer walked closer to you and again with a serious tone asked you . "Tell me how he looked like"

Knowing that he won't let go of the topic unless you give him a proper answer you sigh, rolling your eyes while describing the drunk man you happened to meet inside the club. "He had small eyes , a sharp nose and dark stubble on his face and.." You trailed off thinking what else did the man have but Jungkook interrupted asking in a quick manner

"Did he have any sort of tattoo on his wrist? " Replaying the moment inside your head you widen your eyes a bit and nod your head, "Yea he did.. Was that a crown? A crown maybe"

Exactly knowing who that drunk man you encountered was Jungkook's chest sank at the thought that the old man touched you with his dirty hands. Gulping down the saliva that formed in his mouth he without thinking pulled you to his chest engulfing you in a hug. He wasn't sure why he felt like protecting you but he wanted to . He wasn't supposed to feel this way now that he set his mind on the plan his brain made up on the way here but..he did. He wanted to make sure you were safe.

Widening your eyes at how Jungkook suddenly hugged you, your mind went blank. There's no doubt in how fast your heart was beating. To be honest to yourself you were actually frightened when that man tried touching you in an ill manner but now being in Jungkook's arms you felt safe. You felt safe when he was around. Jungkook's arms around you got tighter as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck.

So this is how you gonna play it Mr. Choi

He thinks.

•-

Flashback 5 weeks back

Stretching your arms you give out a small yawn before grabbing the books from the table and making your way out of the auditorium. Walking while looking at your surroundings you didn't notice the tall man standing infront of you. Too immersed in the same old paintings hanging on the walls you hit something hard making the copies and books in your hands fall down. Without looking up at the person you bumped into you quickly said 'sorry' while kneeling down to pick up your supplies. The tall gentleman kneeled down too helping you with picking up your stationerys. You got up, the man following you soon. This time facing the guy properly as both of you made eye contact you were about to say thank you when your voice abruptly decided to not come out.

The man had soft long black hair .The kind of hair you would want to play with all day. His baby doe eyes staring at you, his lips parted. The oversized hoodie he was wearing made him the grizzly huggable bear image more.

As your eyes scanned him from head to toe, your lips a bit parted, the guy not being able to control his laughter at how cute you looked when your eyes went big as if you saw something really interesting and you'd like to study that thing more, he gave out small giggles making you quickly close your mouth and look at him. Noticing how every students in tha hall were staring at both of you, you shifted your weight from one leg to another leg uncomfortably. But the guy's Adorable bunny smile didn't go out of your notice. His eyes wrinkled as he tilted his face and asked you softly

"You okay? "

Blinking couple of times you nodded your head making him shyly scratch his nape and mumble 'thank god'. Your lips automatically curved up when your eyes landed on the ID card hung around his neck

"Jeon Jungkook"

Once realization hit you that you were now standing infront of your college's hearthrob while looking like a whole mess which you didn't care about that much until you bumped into him, your cheeks got tinted in a light blush. Pulling your lips in you tilted your head a bit to the side making your baby hairs fall over your face.

"Hey kook!"

A loud deep voice entered the ears of the people standing in the hall making them turn their heads to the two seniors waving their hands at Jungkook's direction, a big wide smile plastered know their face. Jungkook takes out his bracelet covered wrist from his pocket and waves at them. Jimin running towards us and wrapping his arm around the tall guy's shoulders he notices me and flashes me a smile

"Hey Y/N"

Waving your sweater paw at him as a hey you smiled. You met Jimin and Taehyung a couple of times before in some group works with seniors. You not really interested in gossips of the college noticed just a few days ago that Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook are the well known hot trio of this college.

"Y/N.."

Jungkook repeats your name to himself before looking at you once again , smiling while saying

"Sweet name"

His sweet honey voice saying your name was enough to melt you. If it was any other guy right now you would have simply said thank you for helping you pick up the books and walk away without saying anything but surprisingly Jeon Jungkook made you stop. "I'm hungry didn't have breakfast this morning" Taehyung whines while holding his tummy earning a slap on his head from Jimin. "we are going for lunch wanna join us? "

Jungkook asks you making you widen your eyes at the sudden invitation and Jungkook earning some smirks from the seniors beside him, Jimin elbowing his arm while wiggling his eyebrows. Jungkook simply rolled his eyes at his hyungs before looking at you for a reply. You glancing at your silver wrist watch said "I would love to but I should get going. I have some stuffs to do"

Jungkook quietly nods his head before flashing you a smile.

Is he always smiling?

You thought noticing that he had been smiling since the moment both of you met. "Y/N's always studying hard"

Taehyung says earning a nod from Jimin making you shyly scratch your nape.

The Brunnete haired approached you giving you a pat on your shoulder before saying "Study well but don't forget to have lunch okay? "

You flashed him a smile while nodding. Jungkook waving his hands at you as a 'bye' walked past you with the two boys. You looked back at three of them noticing that two of them were wearing hoodies and one of them were wearing full sleeved tees.

It's so hot these days why are they wearing hoodies on top of tees?

Shaking your head you quickened your pace and quickly got out of the college grounds. Walking to the bus stand while looking around at the cozy coffee shops on the streets you keep glancing at your watch from time to time to make sure that you're going on time or not.

Now here's a secret about you that no one knows

You're a student at an art college but you are also a student at a law school. Your father runs the family business of electronics. Yes the electronics company ranking the second best in the country out of all the other electronic companies, which he wants to hand over to your big brother after he retires. Your mother always wanted a child of her to be a sculptor. Borning late in the family with the talent of art you were forced to study this subject whereas you were interested in prosecution, catching criminals and stuffs. What you were most interested in were being a mafia or an assassin but you gave up on those dreams and decided to study law. Your parents only giving their all attention and care to their first born, didn't care about you that much. The only thing they wanted from you was becoming a great sculptor and bringing praise to your family.

After nights of confusion and judgement you decided to study in the law school that you got admitted, secretly with the money your grandparents left you. Your grandparents left some money for you and your brother before passing away and thankfully they were enough to pay for your study books expenses. But maintaining time for your law school as well as the art school was hard but you managed to make time after dropping off from some extra courses of the art college without telling your parents. But it was hectic. Your college hours starts from 7 am. And you have classes till 9am then a break at 9:15 am to 10:30 due to dropping off from some extra class. Your law classes starts from 9:30 so during the break you quickly leave the grounds and head off to the law classes. Then you return to the art college at 10:20 when it's a break at your law school. Then once again when it's a lunch break at the art school you head off to the law school while munching on some snacks, obviously not getting time to have proper lunch. And when it comes to events you had to make up excuses at the law school for not attending as your parents would obviously not skip their daughter's presentations.

It would be more hectic from today cuz you just applied to a job at a night club. There's a course for learning shooting at the law school but you don't have enough money to pay for that so it's time to earn some money.

•••

Stretching your arms while getting up from the seat you had been sitting on straight for 2 hours, you give a yawn before taking out a scrunchie and putting your hair up. All the classes for the day are done. Putting the back pack around your shoulder you bow at the teacher before leaving the school premises. Walking inside the bus and sitting on one of the seat you take out your phone and start typing to your mother , 'Mom I'll be late tonight as I got some extra lessons. Don't worry for me and you don't have to send car I'll come by bus'

"No one's gonna worry about me though"

You say to yourself while letting out a small laugh and looking out at the window. Everything vanishing from your sight at a fast pace as the vehicle picks up its speed upon seeing the empty road. Some of the street lights flickering due to not being fixed for several days now. You take out the 'guideline' paper of the bar you're gonna work in from backpack, going through the structure of the building in your mind and remembering all the rules explained to you yesterday when you went to apply for the job. This night club only seemed to be safe for you to work in now. By safe means you would have no worries of the common students who spends time in bars and clubs to see you. If anyone recognizes you then it's game over. Plus the pay is high too.

The phone screen lighting up as a notification popped up you unlocked the phone before seeing from whom the text is from.

Bro: heard you're coming late at night should I pick you up from the way while coming home?

"Geez already told him?"

You say to yourself once realizing that your mom told your brother to pick up but your brother being nice asked if you want to be picked up first or not. Smiling at his text before typing your reply It's ok you don't have to come. The office is far away from my college anyways. Get home safely.

Waiting for a few minutes to see his reply which you didn't get you turned off your phone and put it inside your bag. Looking out from the window thinking why he didn't reply when he saw your text whereas usually he would try to come pick you up, being the 'protective' brother. You got down from the bus as soon as the bus came to its stop. You walked for a few more minutes from the bus stop till arriving at your destination.

Hell's night club

•••

It's been only five minutes of you serving drinks but you're already tired. How can a human body and mind work for 13 hours straight without any rest. You did mess up some tables a couple of times for which you were now getting a scolding from the manager. You looking down bowing slightly while your hands in front of you.

"Miss Lee Y/N did you properly see the table numbers today? "

The old man asks to which you nod. "Then why are you messing up? " He asks in a raised voice making you flinch and quickly mumble a sorry. You lift your head up a bit to see the old man sighing while pinching his forehead, clearly visible that he's angry. "I'm letting you go as this is your first time don't make mistakes anymore"

He says making you bow and say

"Thank you"

He looked around trying to see if any waitresses are free. Sighing at how there's no one free without counting you he gave you a look before handing you a tray of various kinds of drinks. "Take this to table no. 14. And do not make any mistakes. They are regulars here I don't want them gone" Nodding at him you set off to find this table no. 14 . Noticing how your skirt got up a bit you tried pulling the skirt a bit down with one hand as the other one was holding the tray, you quickly withdraw your hand without fixing the skirt upon seeing the tray tremble in one hand. Quickly holding the tray in place and scanning if any drinks were spilled, you sigh in relief. You looked back to only lock eyes with the manager . He staring straight at you with his cold eyes. You gave a small awkward smile and walked towards table 14.

The table no. 14 seemed to be surrounded by many big men. All had some sort of tattoos on them. A familiar man sitting in the middle holding a pen and scribbling something on a notebook. His inked arms full on display as the silver earrings were still being able to shine despite the dullness in the scene. His long bangs falling before his eyes not letting anyone see the face beneath it.

You quietly approached the table and when you raised your eyes from the ground to the man sitting in the middle, your legs automatic came to a halt and your breath hitched.

Jeon Jungkook right there was sitting. The table in front occupied with various weapons and him sitting like a whole five course meal, fingers playing with the dangly earrings

This is totally not what I expected

#jungkook tattoo #jungkook ff #mafia jungkook #tattoo artist jungkook #jjk imagines #bts imagines #bts namjoon #bts yoongi #BTS jimin #bts hoseok #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #wow i'm posting

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beerecordings · 3 years

Text

Marvin's Cage

Story One l Story Two l Story Three l l Story Four l Story Five

This is part 1 of the sixth story, where Marvin's secret comes to light. Tws for extreme distress, imprisonment, Anti's general creepiness, and mentions of human trafficking.

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you love to hate it. I'll hopefully have the next part fairly soon. But also this is quite long, as a heads up

Okay, here we go...

They stack cards in terse silence, racing through decks, climbing up to Jacks, Queens, Kings. They both grab at a black seven of hearts at the same time and end up slapping at each other's hands, JJ yanking the card back just before his opponent. Anti cackles and keeps flipping cards, waiting for the next one to snatch.

“Peanuts,” signs JJ suddenly, and Anti swears and laughs and starts picking the cards up to re-deal, doling them out in piles, and they're playing again, without a word, stacking decks, up and up and up.

After a few rounds, JJ reaches for a bottle of water at his side, sucking it down and brushing at his sweaty hair. Anti rocks on his thighs, chewing at his nails. “Where's your sweet Big Brother today, child?” he asks.

“Comes and goes,” signs JJ, setting his bottle down and getting a granola bar out of its box for lunch. ��Birthday week. Celebrate, family. But he will come see me soon. He loves me because I've been very good.”

He stacks up a fresh set for another game, yawning.

“He ought to let you come play with me in the real world,” purrs Anti, stroking his thumb across JJ's chin. Jameson shivers, but he does not protest. “He's so mean to keep you from me. Now all I get to do is come visit you and play silly games. My warm flesh... don't you know I miss you?”

JJ sorts his cards quietly, avoiding his eye. Anti reaches forward and grips his neck, squeezing gently.

“My warm flesh,” he repeats softly, licking his lips.

Jameson breathes through his mouth as Anti begins to strangle him, keeping calm. The easiest thing is just to get through it. If he talks back or makes Anti angry, then he'll really get hurt, and there will be nothing he can do to stop it. Anti gets up on his knees and crawls into JJ's space, pushing him down onto the floor of his cage. He straddles his waist and increases the pressure on his throat. JJ gazes up at him, still.

“We had such a good time together,” hums Anti, feeling his thready human heartbeat beneath his hands. “Didn't we?”

JJ doesn't remember much good about his time with Anti. He knows the taste of a human heart in his mouth. He was once chained against a wall so tightly he couldn't protest when the rats began to gnaw at him. At one point, he was so delirious and hurt that he believed he was dead for two weeks straight.

That's the good thing about his Brother. Not being allowed to leave this box doesn't matter, and neither do the occasional beatings or possessions Anti causes him, because Brother would never let anything half as horrible as the things Anti used to do to him happen anymore. Brother protects him from Anti – and protects everyone else in the world from Anti using his body.

He shudders at the memory of his teeth clamping down around the beating muscle his hands pulled from a stranger's chest. Blood leaking onto his tongue, warm as it filled his mouth. He was laughing. His fingers dug into soft, squishy organs, the filth filling up his broken nails, and his heart beat like the wing of a hummingbird beneath his ribs, making him dizzy with Anti's sick delight.

Yes. Brother protects him. Brother protects everyone. That's why he's here.

He's just beginning to lose consciousness from the cut-off of his oxygen when something stops Anti.

His head tilts and his ears perk up as he stills, paying attention to something JJ has not sensed yet. His mismatched eyes flicker back and forth as he thinks – and then a wide smile grows on his face.

“Please let go,” signs JJ, squirming.

“Someone... other than Marvin,” Anti mumbles. “Oh, this will be really good.”

JJ stills, blinking. Anti creeps to his feet, gazing through the front of JJ's box from the corner, trying to look without being seen. His eyes light up with a venomous light. He turns his smile towards JJ, eyes gleaming.

He crawls back into JJ's space, tucking a strand of his brother's hair behind his ear. JJ holds still as Anti leans close to him, whispering against his ear:

“Things are going to change for you now, my darling. But I'll see you again soon. I promise. So don't forget about me, child – not even for a moment.”

A cold kiss presses against the side of JJ's head.

Then Anti is gone, leaving only a faint and fading trail of glitching colors behind him.

JJ waits for a few moments, but he's so used to Anti's mannerisms he can't even be unnerved. He sighs, scattering the cards across the floor. Well, if Anti is gone, he'll have to find something else to do.

He reaches for his violin, getting to his feet and stretching a little before setting the bow down. Still, he can't shake a feeling that something in the air has changed for good.

Jackie treads on the solid floor of the endless mirror, his head tilted as he listens to the music.

“What the hell is this?” he whispers, creeping forward.

It's certainly not a portal to anywhere, not like it used to be, or at least this isn't the door. Instead there's some kind of box, a shed or a tiny house like on TV or maybe just a really weird puppet theater. The words “JJ's Jolly Jaunts” is spread across the top of the inside layer, behind bars, and it makes Jackie's stomach do a weird, foreboding turn that he doesn't understand.

Something about this is fucked up, that's all he knows. But if it has something to do with his missing brother – well, why wouldn't Marvin tell him? Has he been trying to find him? Is this some freaky memorial to him? Does Marvin think he's dead?

His next footstep lands heavily, echoing a little in the expanse. The music that he thought must have played from a speaker cuts off with a timid release of the violin bow from its strings, and he stops dead in his tracks.

Something is in here.

Someone is in here.

Being alarmed and weirded out, however, is only a catalyst for Jackie's curiosity, and the not-knowing becomes almost unbearable. He races towards the box, setting his tense fingers on the side of the barred window as he looks in.

There are decorations like fairy nights and pinned-up drawings of animals overhead a big red rug and a mattress with blankets and pillows disarrayed on top. A small curtain covers a corner in the back, stuffed animals stack against the wall opposite, and there are tupperware containers and cardboard boxes full of granola bars, dried fruits, cookies, and more. Art supplies scatter across the floor – paper and charcoal and bits of fabric and buttons. Jackie leans a little farther over the sill, his face nearly pressing against the bars around the outside, and he sees homemade puppets among the felt and sewing materials.

“This is fucked,” he mutters, turning to the left. Pressed closer, he can see some cleaning supplies. He turns to the right and –

Jackie rears back with a shout, his heart leaping into a double-time march.

Silence in the mirror realm. Nothing moves.

Deep breaths, Jackie. Deep breaths.

“Jameson?” he whispers, stepping cautiously back towards the cage. “I... is that you?”

It looked like him, for the moment where Jackie's eyes landed on him, a figured pressed against the closest corner of the box, clutching a violin like a shield and staring back at Jackie with wide eyes. But it couldn't be. Why would he be here? None of this makes sense, but the idea that comes closest – of course.

“Not Jameson,” he realizes, face darkening. “Anti. Right? Marvin caught you, didn't he? And he's... trying to get you out of Jameson's skin. Trying to make you let him go. You fucking parasite.”

There's a slight scraping of cloth on wood. Jackie tenses, licking his mouth, and waits for Anti to start laughing and step out to see him.

But nothing moves.

“If you're trying to get me to come closer, you missed your opportunity,” snarls Jackie. “Fuck, I can't believe – why wouldn't he tell me about this? It must have been just the last couple weeks that he caught you, since we fought just before. You've been possessing him this whole time, then, bastard? You're a creep. When I figure this out with Marvin, you'll never touch him again.”

And Jackie waits again, but... nothing.

This isn't like Anti. Not taunting? Not snarling and snapping or teasing Jackie over every failure he's ever been haunted by?

Why the pictures on the wall? Why all the stuffed animals? What the hell is going on?

“Forget you, then,” Jackie scowls. “I need to go talk to Marvin.”

He turns to walk away, back towards the portal, mind racing. He needs to talk to him before he gets more confused.

He touches the portal to leave.

Why the pictures? Turtles and bears and butterflies?

That's not Anti.

It must be.

Why the stuffed animals? A well-loved puppy, ratty with hugs and petting?

Anti wouldn't do that.

It only looks like Jameson because it's Anti. It has to be Anti.

Why any of this? The obvious time that's been spent in that box even though he saw Anti not a month past? The scared look on Anti's face as he hid from Jackie, something he's never done before? The violin music? Does Anti play violin now?

That is not Anti.

But it has to be, so –

“I need to talk to Marvin,” he repeats to himself, heart racing again. “I need...”

Marvin lied to me.

Marvin didn't tell me about this. Hid this. On purpose. Denied all of it a hundred times.

No. That's my little brother. I can trust him.

He lied.

And that –

It's Anti.

It's not Anti.

It has to be.

It isn't.

Looking back at this moment, Jackie will wonder what would have happened if he went through that portal and asked Marvin what was going. What he would have said. If he would have lied, if he would have made excuses. If he would have just been silent.

It doesn't matter now.

He knows that something is not right, and he can't trust Marvin – shit, he's never had that thought before, not once in his life – so he has to figure this out on his own.

He walks back towards that cage in the middle of the endless reflections of himself. In the mirrors, he can see himself walk towards the box from behind – steady, tentative steps, tense shoulders beneath a red jacket, hands in black gloves squeezed into fists. He can see himself from the side, with his mouth parted and his eyes fixed ahead. He can see his own face, looking into his own eyes, looking into the face he shares with his younger brother, the first younger brother he had, the one who made everything else worth having.

As he comes back towards the box, he realizes that whoever is in there must have thought he left like he said he would, because now he hears soft sobbing coming from inside. He hears the moment the violin is set aside with a slight thud, and cloth slides against the wood as the prisoner sits down on the floor. Jackie stands outside, listening, his eyes beginning to burn.

Not Anti. Not Anti. He knows. In his heart, yes – in his heart he already knows.

“Hello?” he calls.

The crying cuts off. Jackie closes his eyes. Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Jackie, even if this can't be true.

“Look, Anti,” he says. “If that's you, well. I hate your guts, but I still don't think you should be trapped in a box like this. Nobody should be. Come out and tell me what's going on and we'll figure this out.”

The prisoner doesn't bite.

“Okay,” sighs Jackie. “Um. Listen, I... I'm sorry I yelled. If you're not Anti, please let me know. I'm not going to hurt you. I was just surprised. And scared, I think. I don't know what's going on.”

A soft, shaky breath moves through the air.

“I'm going to come closer now,” says Jackie, straightening up. “I'm going to look at you again. Please don't scratch my eyes out or anything. Okay.”

He leans in for a second time, bringing his head close to the bars.

There he is. The prisoner in the corner. He's sitting down now, arms wrapped around himself. His face is mostly hidden in the knees drawn to his chest, but his eyes –

Big blue eyes look up at Jackie from beneath overgrown, mousy brown curls.

Jackie has never claimed to be good at reading others. He actually tends to miss plenty that other people seem to find obvious in mere expressions and gestures. But this...

No. He could never forget this exact look, these exact eyes. The eyes of the little brother that stared up at him for hours that night so many months ago when he lost him. The eyes that were looking at him when he lost consciousness and woke up to an empty bed and a missing piece of his heart. The fear and the confusion and the hope and the love all at once.

His Jameson.

Jackie bows his head and cries.

For long minutes he's bent over the side of that ledge by the box, one hand clinging to the bars behind which his youngest brother has been kept as a prisoner, and he can't seem to stop no matter how hard he tries. There is no noise from Jameson. Jackie can't look at him again. Can't bear it.

And then the soft brush of something against his hand startles Jackie from his breakdown, and he looks up to find a tissue pressed against his fingers.

JJ has brought him a tissue.

Jackie stares at him and Jameson looks back, ducking his head shyly now, even as he pulls Jackie's fingers around the Kleenex, plucking gently at his hand. Jackie takes the tissue. JJ backs away again, still holding that battered violin to his chest like a shield.

“Thank you,” croaks Jackie.

Jameson nods just a little, eyes fixed on him.

“Do you... remember me?” asks Jackie. “We were... it was so short. Just that night. And you were sick and confused. He'd been possessing you a long time and I just – do you remember at all or...?”

Jameson scoots a little closer, chewing at his nails for a second.

His fingers reach out to touch Jackie's again. Curl around the back of his hand and settle there. Soft.

He nods just a little a second time.

Yeah. He remembers.

“Jameson,” breathes Jackie.

He reaches for his hand in return. Their fingers lock together through the bars.

Laughter bubbles up in the empty coldness of the mirror realm, and after a moment Jackie realizes he is the one he's laughing.

“Yes,” he laughs, squeezing his hands, and JJ looks back at him in awe, letting his violin fall to the side. “Yeah, Jameson, my little brother. You remember me. You're alive! You're here! JJ, JJ... how do I get you out?”

He wants to be holding him. Now. Wants to wrap him up like the kittens Marvin used to sneak into the house and take him back to the world and never let him the fuck out of his sight again.

Jameson glances to the right of his box and Jackie goes racing around the side to find the opening. There's nothing but a half-door carved into the side and this is locked by a padlock with no keyhole. Jackie grabs the chunk of metal, frowning, and there – carved into the back of the metal are sigils that burn with heat even untouched in the coldness.

Magic.

He returns to JJ, taking his hand again.

“I'm going to get you out of here,” he says, and it's so true and so important in his chest that it hurts somehow to get the words out. “I'm here now and I will not let anything more happen to you.”

He wishes JJ would smile or nod or anything like that. But he just stares at Jackie with that big, starry awe in his blue eyes, and squeezes his hand softly, shuffling closer to him, staring. Jackie holds his breath as Jameson leans his head against the bars of his prison so his forehead almost touches Jackie's. He picks up the discarded tissue and presses it against Jackie's reddened cheeks, mouth parting.

Jackie clings to his hands and closes his eyes, letting his little brother brush his tears away.

“Jameson,” he says, just soft, though everything seems loud in the silence, in the emptiness, in the endless cold. “Tell me who did this to you.”

JJ draws away. There is a pause where he looks down at his toys and his animals and his art. His hands wrap around each other. He shrugs his shoulders weakly.

“Tell me,” says Jackie, reaching for him again. “Jamie, my Jamie. Tell me.”

His head already knows, but in his chest –

No.

Jameson chews at his nails for a second, big eyes flashing up to Jackie, and then he turns and points at the picture pinned to the wall above his mattress.

In JJ's charcoals, Marvin is thin and tired, but whoever drew the curve of his sorrowful mouth and detailed the light in his eyes loves him.

Jackie's heart stays steady. His eyes do not burn. His lets out just one more shaking breath.

Very well, then.

“Jameson,” he says. “I will be right back.”

“No! No, not even like that.”

“There's no scenario in which this works, Chase.”

“Guys, hear me out!” Chase cries, re-adjusting on the couch between them and snagging popcorn from Marvin's bowl. “Okay, so the earth is round – ”

“Well, he's got that much right,” says Marvin.

“Already better than I was expecting, to be fair,” agrees Henrik.

“The earth is ROUND,” re-iterates Chase, shoving them both. “So theoretically, if I got enough momentum, and there was a path that went all the way around... I could Heely the whole way round the earth.”

“No,” groan his siblings, throwing popcorn at him. “No, that still doesn't – ”

“Haters! Haters, the both of you!”

Marvin's laughing and antagonizing Chase by pushing him with his socked feet, trying to throw him off the couch while Henrik shields the cat from the fighting on the other side of the cushions. They've been talking about stupid shit for so long he's completely lost track of the plot of the movie they're watching, but it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters but them. And you know what, he feels good today, feels light and painless for the first time in a long time. For them to actually set aside the time for his birthday... well, that's the only thing he could have asked for. That and some earrings. And food. And a couple other things he wanted. But really the time together is the important stuff.

And here comes Jackie to complete them.

“Good afternoon, my darling, and will you be joining us?” he crows, letting his feet fall into Chase's lap instead of continuing to try and shove him off the couch. “Sit down with us and let's – um, Jackie?”

Why is he standing like that? Too still on the stairs. Wild, bouncy Jackie frozen stiff with his palm spread out against the wall, steadying him like a statue with a weak foundation. In his other hand: his fighting staff, extended and clenched so hard in his fingers that they have gone red with blood.

“Jackie?” asks Chase. All three of them are staring up at him by now, the TV playing loudly in front of them. “Everything okay?”

Jackie blinks at him a couple times, his face blank.

Henrik and Chase look at each other, eyebrows raising. Marvin's eyes are just fixed on their oldest brother. He realizes that his body has gone just as tense as Jackie's, his legs swinging off Chase's lap and setting firmly against the carpeted floor, a hand pressed against the cushion beside him.

Jackie starts shaking his head. Head low, eyes haunted.

“What's the matter?” asks Marvin.

Jackie shakes his head at him. His mouth is taut and his eyes narrow, angry like a wounded dog.

Marvin's throat is dry.

“What's the matter?” he repeats.

“Chase, Henrik,” says Jackie. “Go to Stacy's and stay there til I say you can come home.”

Chase pauses the movie, gaping at Jackie. Beyond the bizarre suddenness of the request, he never calls Schneep 'Henrik.' After a second, he moves to rise, but Henrik reaches across them to grab his arm and pull him back down.

“I don't think we're going anywhere, my friend,” says Henrik softly. “What's going on?”

“'Maybe Marvin can tell you,” Jackie answers.

Marvin can almost feel his own neurons firing. In a second, he has made the decision to lie through his teeth.

Because this isn't happening. He won't let this be happening. Jackie does not know – you've been scared that he does a million times before and they've all been false alarms, don't overreact, this is just some kind of misunderstanding – and he will never know. He will never, never know.

“Jackie, I don't know what's going on,” says Marvin sadly. “Tell us, please.”

“Yeah, Jackie, shit, you're freaking me out,” Chase agrees. “You want me to turn the lights off? You can lie down and – ”

“I'm fine,” says Jackie. “Marvin, you know, you – ”

“I don't know what's going on.”

“I went in your room.”

He laughs. Doesn't know why. “Okay?”

Henrik and Chase just look between him and Jackie. Jackie starts coming down the stairs. Heavy footsteps on the wood.

“Let's go look together.”

Marvin's smiling at his brother, his lip snarling a little.

He nightmared over this moment so many times. Is it really here? He always thought it would make him scared.

It just makes him angry.

Jackie doesn't know shit and it will stay that way. Stupid, naive Jackie. Marvin will lie his way out of this if he has to gaslight Jackie til Chase and Henrik call him crazy.

“There's nothing in there,” he says.

Jackie grabs him by the arm.

“Jackie!” calls Henrik, getting to his feet and setting his hands indignantly on his hips. Marvin wants to laugh again. Schneep is using his big, bad doctor voice, just like he would with any other argument in their house. Like they're fighting over who flooded the sink or whether to keep the kittens Queenie's pregnant with. Like it's just any other day.

There's no inkling in either him or Chase that this is Marvin's apocalypse. Somehow, it makes him feel powerful. Even if Jackie does have some idea of what's going on, only Marvin knows how deep this really goes.

“Don't grab him like that,” Henrik is scolding. “Now tell us what's going on or – ”

“Don't bother, Schneep,” says Marvin, staring right at Jackie. “He's angry. And you know Jackie when he's angry. He doesn't listen to anyone.”

Jackie's ears draw back and his mouth clamps tighter. He's gazing right back at Marvin. Heat like a geyser in his blue eyes.

“Let him drag me, whatever,” Marvin continues. “He'll realize he was wrong with whatever he's talking about later and come sobbing to me for forgiveness. 'Oh, Marvel, I was so mean, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry...'”

Jackie yanks him hard towards the stairs, ignoring Chase and Henrik shouting at them. Marvin lets him march him towards his room, but it's becoming less funny. His eyes burn and it seems difficult to breathe. His heart pounds against his ribs hard enough that Jackie might be able to feel it from his grip on him.

He can see Anti under Jameson's skin in days gone by, signing slowly at him, promising him that he'll regret what he's done. He laughs weakly as Jackie tears open the door of his room and shoves him inside.

“Jackie, don't push him!” shouts Chase, tugging on the back of Jackie's sweatshirt. “Hey, look at me!”

“Tell them what's in the mirror, Marvin.” Jackie advances on him. Marvin tries to move past him, but he won't let him. Pushing him back towards Jamie's mirror. “Tell them.”

“You've lost it, Jackie,” snaps Marvin.

“Jackie, what's gotten into you?” cries Chase. “Leave him alone! Marvin?”

Marvin wants to call to him – baby, it's okay, amata, don't worry – but how is he supposed to say that now, with Jackie pushing him towards that prison he created? In his heart, he wishes Chase would save him.

“Tell them what's in the mirror!” screams Jackie, and he lunges forward as his composure breaks, slamming Marvin into the wall beside the mirror. Marvin shrieks as his brother's hands wrap around his throat and pin him hard to the plaster. One of the cats is yowling in the doorway and Chase and Henrik are both yowling too, grabbing at them and trying to pull Jackie off, but he will not be moved.

“Tell me you're Anti!” Jackie howls. “You're possessing Marvin! Or he's blackmailing you! Tell me, tell me! My little brother! Tell me you didn't do this to him!”

Marvin does not know if he laughs or sobs in that moment.

Jackie throws him hard to the ground when he does not answer, his staff striking the ground beside his head. “You let him out of that cage, Anti! Now!”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” chokes Marvin.

“Jameson's in that mirror,” shouts Jackie, whirling on their younger brothers. “He's locked up like a fucking dog! Like an animal! This isn't Marvin, it's Anti!”

Marvin stares at the ceiling, writhing beneath Jackie's hands as Chase and Henrik back off, asking questions and exclaiming at Jackie as their oldest brother starts to relate what he saw. Marvin can't breathe.

A little box. A box with bars on the front and a magical lock on it. Him just lying all small inside, with his toys and violin and drawings and snacks. Jameson. Jameson.

Jackie knows.

Jackie knows!

A nightmare – it's a nightmare. It's a nightmare!

“Get off!” he screeches, and when Jackie doesn't budge Marvin opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into the hand holding his chin down.

Jackie yelps and draws back. Henrik jerks forward to keep Marvin down, now, clinging to his clothes.

“Marv, Marv,” chants Henrik, holding him carefully. “Hey. If you're in trouble, we'll figure this out. Just let's be calm. And if you're Anti – there's no point to running.”

“But Anti can't get in here,” Chase puts in, frustrated. “You guys know that. Marvin warded the place to hell and he doesn't know where the mirror that comes to our house is.”

“Chase, go check the warding,” orders Jackie. “Anti might have compromised him instead of possessing him. He must have been at it for months. That's why he's been acting so weird. Blackmail or something. I didn't think it was Anti because I thought you would have come to me if he were hurting you!”

No, no, no! Marvin grips at his head, giggling again. This is just a half-truth and their disapproval and fear and distrust is already too much to bear. If they find out the truth – if they know –

He was right, though! He had to do it!

“Come, my brother, up we get,” says Henrik, wrapping an arm gently around his waist. Jackie still looks like he wants to beat the demons out of him, but he lets Henrik handle him. Marvin slinks to his feet with his brother's arm around him and Henrik sits him down on his bed.

“Okay, now, tell us what's been going on,” he murmurs, brushing a few strands of hair from his eyes.

Marvin grips his wrist, dizzied. He doesn't want him to step back. He wants Henrik to stop this from happening.

“Has Anti been talking to you?” Henrik asks in a hush. “What has he done, my dear? You can tell us now. Is Jameson really there?”

His Schneep. He's as feral as a rabid squirrel most of the time, but then, when he needs him, his brother melts into soft touches and a quiet, even voice. Unflappable, reliable, steady Henrik. Marvin cups his chin, staring up at him.

“Don't touch him,” says Jackie darkly, standing posed like a toy boxer behind Henrik. “Don't put a hand on him.”

“The warding is fine,” calls Chase, coming back into the room. “Nothing smudged or anything.”

“Anti may be manipulating him from a distance,” says Henrik. “Threatening and holding things over him. Jameson... did he threaten to hurt him? Marvin, you were trying to protect him, yes?”

Jackie's stance slackens, his fingers loosening around the staff, and Marvin sees the moment where his eyes soften for him. Chase comes close too and stands beside Henrik, rubbing a hand along Marvin's shoulder.

“Breathe, amata,” he says. Sunny, starry Chase. His Chase. “It's gonna be okay, Marv. I promise. What did Anti do? He hurt you, huh?”

Marvin stares up at him, mouth parted. His eyes flicker towards his own figure in the mirror.

He knows JJ is back there. At this time of day, he's probably napping or playing his violin. Anti could even be in there with him now. He can see him now, black eyes and a wicked smile twisting up Jameson's mouth. He'd bite his teeth at Marvin behind the bars of the cage or coo threats and dark promises. He'd leave Jamie bleeding and ill and laugh about it.

He can see Jameson helpless in the middle of everything. Months and months of Jameson's helplessness. Curled up around himself, silent and dead-eyed in the corner, begging for Marvin's attention, scared and crying, playing with his puppets and toys like a two-year-old, writing music for Marvin, praying devout rosaries on his mattress, sleeping the day away. Hollow eyes. A big smile and then nothing on his face. Eating noodles with his hands and looking over new llama-patterned socks like they're a gift from God. Nosebleeds and fevers and coughs, enough to shake his whole chest.

And on the other side of that mirror, on the other side of the helpless intruder and the mad spirit that wears his flesh like an outfit: Marvin's family.

Chase. Jackie. Henrik.

Yes. Yes. He did what he had to do.

For months it has tormented him. Now Jackie knows. Lies won't help. Even this one, this tempting lie being offered to him by his hopeful brothers – the lie that Anti made him do it. They're looking so gently at him, but it's just another web to tangle him up and choke him for months. In the end, it won't protect him.

He did what he had to do.

He will make them see that.

JJ sits in his box, chewing his nails down to the bit. He takes a hangnail between his teeth and pulls it til the blood runs down his thumb.

He doesn't know what's going on.

He decides to pick up his violin again, setting the bow down and trying to breathe in and out, in and out, in and out, steady. Marvin always makes him take three deep breaths when he was beginning to freak out. Marvin hates it when he freaks out. So he will be calm. He will breathe – one, two, three – and play his music.

He feels that he can hear Marvin in the movement of his improv. M-Brother. The only person other than Anti he's ever really known.

His voice started out stern and hot and distant. His eyes would flash and he would stand at a distance as though afraid of Jameson biting him. He stayed with him very little and never touched him.

Marvin became scared, later. Jameson remembers the first part of his illness, when he was so sick he could barely stand on his own, but the second half, when he stopped being coherent, is lost to him. The only thing he recalls is the frantic rise of Marvin's voice, thinner and louder as the days went on.

Scared Marvin. Screaming Marvin. Cold Marvin. Comforting Marvin.

Flashes and glimpses. He rarely stays more than an hour.

Jameson plays long, sweet notes across the violin.

My brother protects me. Because I'm dangerous. Because I'm bad. If I'm good, maybe someone will hold me for just a few minutes.

Long, sorrowful notes.

He realizes he has transitioned from improv to the tune he wrote for Marvin's birthday. He lets the long notes pull across the violin. He will play it til it's perfect, so that, when Marvin is finally ready to hear it, it will be so excellent he will have to like it.

He misses a note and re-starts. He draws a rest out too long and restarts. He plays it too lifelessly and restarts. Restart again, again, again, one, two, three. It must be perfect. For Marvin. For his brother. His brother who protects him, and the only person in the whole world whom JJ loves.

He cannot see or hear anything beyond the mirror realm, but a part of him hears when Marvin starts to cry.

“I locked Jameson up to keep you safe,” says Marvin. “That's all.”

Large eyes looking back at him. Chase and Henrik exchange looks again, passing thoughts between gazes. Jackie's just staring at him.

Marvin raises his chin and stares back.

The tears are running down his face, but he doesn't sob and he doesn't wheeze and he does not let his expression break.

He did what he had to.

“Keep us safe?” Chase repeats.

“It's not his fault,” says Marvin. “I know that. But Anti uses him as a weapon and there are few few things we can do about that. The two of them are connected – Anti can find him anywhere and Jameson has no defense against that kind of power. He's just a mortal kid. I've been looking for a way to protect him from Anti's interference, or at least stop Anti from being able to locate him, but it's complex magic. In the meantime, I had to keep him away from you. That day he stabbed you...”

Marvin's eyes flicker to Chase's chest. He remembers the dark wound in his shoulder and the ache in his brother's movements for weeks. The fear as the blood poured out and Jackie dragged the thrashing monster off Chase's body and choked him til he passed out.

“I couldn't let that happen again.”

They still don't say anything. A part of him screams at them to speak, begging for anything in reply, but the other half of him is desperate for the quiet. If they tell him how they feel it could break him in half.

“I didn't tell you,” he continues. “And I lied to you about it many times. I'm sorry. I don't know how to express to you how much it has hurt me over the time it's gone on. I know that doesn't make it right, but I want you to know I have always wanted to tell you. But I knew that if I did... you wouldn't agree.”

A faint, thin laugh from Chase. “This is a joke, yeah? Of course we wouldn't agree. How could you think that – ?”

“Because none of you have the guts to make this call,” replies Marvin before he can even finish, voice raising. “Don't you see? You all wanted him to just live here with us, hoping we'd be able to restrain him if Anti came! But that's not realistic. He would have fucking killed you! Jackie, you're too empathetic, Chase can't even kill a spider, and Henrik – ”

Henrik is staring at him, face unreadable. Marvin deflates, shaking his head.

“Henrik didn't deserve to have to make that call, even if he could. I'm older. I was the one with the means to hide him away. I – ”

“This is a lie,” Jackie interrupts him, sudden and loud. “This is a lie.”

Marvin says nothing. Meets his eyes and waits.

“Marvin?” asks Chase. “This isn't true, right?”

Chase – well, his eyes Marvin can't meet.

Chase looks to Henrik and Jackie, mouth open, bewildered.

“My little brother?” he asks in a small voice.

“Boys,” says Henrik, sighing. “Okay, deep breaths. Let's not get worked up. Of course it is not true. Anti is... he still has something over him. Marvin cannot speak freely. He is protecting us I would guess. Anti has made threats, perhaps cast spells or things like this. Forced Marvin to cast spells. Or he has a way to possess him. We must find Anti and deal with him before we can get anywhere.”

Henrik's voice is sure and cool, but Chase and Jackie don't respond to his call to action. Henrik turns firmly back to Marvin and cups his chin, stroking his thumb across his beard. “We will make this right, my brother,” he says. “I promise.”

“You said Anti didn't have Jameson, though,” says Chase, pushing forward. “Anti told you that, the last time you fought.”

“The second to last time we fought,” Jackie corrects. “Yes, he said that he didn't have Jameson. Then I saw him not a month ago. He didn't say anything about Marvin. But... right after that was when Marvin had that encounter with him.”

“Guys,” Marvin offers wearily. “It's not – ”

“Marvin wouldn't do this to our younger brother,” scoffs Henrik. “Locking him away! It's terrible.”

“I've taken care of him,” cries Marvin. “I have, he – ”

“Can I see him?” Chase's voice seems to be fainter with every sentence he speaks. “I never got to meet him, just Anti. We've talked about him for so long.”

“You – you used to help me go out looking for him.” Jackie whirls on Marvin again, eyes burning. “No, tell me this isn't true.”

“He would have killed you,” hisses Marvin, his eyes watering again.

“So that means you caged him like an animal?”

“Marvin can't have done this,” Henrik insists. “Marvin can't have.”

“I don't know what's going on,” says Chase, starting to cry. “Can I please see Jameson?”

“Maybe Jackie's the one possessed,” says Henrik, backing suddenly away from his oldest brother and putting a hand on Marvin's shoulder. “Maybe that's why Marvin is acting this way. Anti will blame him for what he's done to Jameson.”

“He's in a cage in there! When was the last time he's been out of there? How long has it been?”

Jackie's question seems to quiet everyone again. All eyes turn back to Marvin.

“How long what?”

“How long has it been since you let him out of there?” asks Jackie, voice dangerous again. Stance dangerous.

Jackie has never looked dangerous to Marvin before this moment.

Marvin breathes in through his nose, trying to find an answer. He wants to come clean – wants to show how justified he was – but it sounds so cruel when it's said out loud.

“He's been missing for seven months,” says Jackie, voice trembling. “If this is true, what you're saying, then he's been your prisoner for seven months. Right?”

“Yes,” says Marvin softly.

“Marvin. Has he been inside that box this whole time?”

Silence. Silence. Silence.

Jackie turns away from him, breathing thinning out. Chase is just shaking his head. Henrik's still at Marvin's side.

Jackie looks back to them, poised like he's about to pounce.

“Jackie,” warns Henrik, holding a hand out. “It's not true, it – ”

“Just let him out of the box,” whispers Jackie.

Marvin licks his mouth.

Draws a breath.

Shakes his head.

Jackie cocks his head at him, frowning. “What? What was that? Are you saying no?”

The disbelief in the air seems heavy on his shoulders.

Helpless Jameson. Snarling Anti.

Chase. Jackie. Henrik.

Had to.

Has to.

“Yes,” says Marvin. “I said no. Jameson is a threat to you. I won't let him out of the box.”.

Jackie has a grip on Marvin's shirt collar in a flash, shoving him down onto the bed. Henrik yelps and tries to pull him away again, and now Chase is sobbing openly somewhere in the background, and the cat starts to mewl again. Jackie's screaming. Jackie's screaming at him. Jackie's screaming everything Marvin was ever afraid that he would say.

“Like an animal, you locked him up like an animal! You knew I loved him and you took him away from me! You – you knocked me out that night! Fucking traitor! Marvin, Marvin! How could you do this to me?”

Marvin cries against the bed. Jackie slams him back, once, twice.

“Jackie,” Henrik wails, and honest to God Marvin has never heard him that scared.

“How could you do this to him?” Jackie screeches, squeezing his shirt til the buttons below pop. “He didn't deserve it. He was just a victim! You lied to me so many times! I wanted him, you knew how badly I needed him back! You let me think that Anti had him, and then that he was missing from everybody! Do you know how many sex trafficking rings I busted looking for him? How many times I spent my nights under bridges or in drug dens looking for him, trying to make sure everyone was safe?”

“Jackie,” sobs Marvin. “Love, you do all that anyway.”

“But I didn't use to wonder if it would be my baby brother when I found homeless men dead in the streets,” Jackie answers, and it's now that Marvin realizes he's sobbing too. “I didn't use to carry teenagers to the emergency room after they'd overdosed because they just got mixed up with the wrong people, people who should have looked after them, and then spend the rest of the week wondering if anybody would carry my baby brother like that if the same thing was happening to him. I didn't used to clean up trafficking victims and see every one of those bruises and cuts and markings and diseases on his skin too.”

Marvin's crying too hard to breathe. He takes hold of Jackie's sweatshirt and cries, shaking his head up at him.

“I love you,” he manages, choking and sobbing. “I love you, I love you.”

“I searched for him! Cried over him, nightmared about his little body washing up on the beach! That one night I had him, he looked up at me like I made the world spin, just because I showed him a few minutes of kindness. He had just finally in his life gotten some kindness. Why did he deserve this?”

“I love you,” Marvin chants, because what else can he say? Jameson never deserved it. He always knew that. It's just that his brothers also deserved better – deserved to be safe from Anti – and that was all that mattered.

That is still all that matters.

“Let him out of there,” wails Jackie. “Now, now, fucking traitor, let him out!”

But Marvin keeps shaking his head. No. No!

Jackie screams in frustration and draws his arm back. Marvin flinches and jerks his head away.

And in the middle of all the chaos and all the turmoil inside his chest, he thinks that that moment is clear as day to both of them, because they realize at the exact same time that Jackie almost hit him.

Marvin gapes up at him. Jackie still has his fist drawn back.

His big brother almost hit him.

Marvin lies there, breathing thick, wet breaths. Jackie holds that fist up, shocked.

Then his hand lowers, and for just one second, his fingers stroke down Marvin's cheek.

It's bizarre, later, that Marvin knows exactly what Jackie is seeing in that moment – his little brother. His only little brother, back before any of this. Bright green hair and a silly Game Grumps cape. A cat mask and a blue shirt. They go racing through the city causing trouble together and come home laughing like wild. They make Old Fashioneds and drink while they watch comedy specials on Netflix til the sun comes up. Marvin brings his first cat home and they both spoil her rotten, spending hours playing with her or just watching her run on her wheel, til their phones are both full with pictures of her. They cook together, setting the fire on kitchen more than once, and they catch bad guys like real life superheroes, cackling with triumph as they review their victories over sweet wine and take-out. When they get sick, they look after each other, even if they do make fun the whole time. Marvin runs away once and then comes home again, and Jackie squeezes him so tight it actually leaves a couple bruises on him, and Marvin allows himself, for the first time in his life, to be loved.

He promises Jackie he will never run away again when his hair is still bright green, and Jackie hugs him again, and the world is right there – the world is that place where their hands wrap around each other. The world is the syncing of their heartbeats and the vibration of Jackie murmuring his thousandth “I love you” into Marvin's ear, and Marvin giving his first one back.

There was nothing else that mattered.

A young man with green hair and a blue cape. His baby brother, smiling.

Marvin.

Jackie's fingers pull away. The spell breaks.

“Get out of my fucking house,” Jackie whispers, releasing him with shaking fingers.

Marvin shakes his head, letting out a long breath. “What?”

“I said get out,” says Jackie.

His voice is tight, and it trembles just a little, taut with stress, but he forces it calm.

“You've lost it,” says Marvin. “It's... Jackie, it's me. I'm not going anywhere.”

Jackie doesn't look at him anymore. He straightens up, wiping his hand down his face.

“Jackie,” Marvin repeats. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“If you stay here,” says Jackie, voice very low. “I'm going to lock you in the garage with a box of granola bars and a pile of stuffed animals. Then we'll see how 'justified' you were.”

Marvin stares, a faint laugh coughing its way up his throat. He looks to Chase and Henrik, but Henrik seems to have gone numb, just listing between the three of them with his hands held out like he's not sure what to do, and Chase is turned towards the door. His face is scrunched up and furious, and there are hot, swift tears running down his face.

Marvin's heart aches. “My little brother, amata,” he says. “Look, I'll make this right. Just tell Jackie – ”

“I,” says Chase, very clearly. “Am not your brother.”

Even Jackie winces a little. Henrik stares blankly at Chase, unable to register the words.

And Marvin –

Oh, he's been punched in the stomach. He can't get any air in.

“And I think you should get the fuck out,” spits Chase. “Cause I never want to see you again.”

He leans down, scoops up Queenie, and vanishes through the door of Marvin's room.

Marvin might honestly collapse. He's taken back to every time he's gotten so stressed over holding JJ captive that it made him sick, and suddenly, all of those moments seem like a cakewalk, and he knows that he could more easily have lived with the guilt and the crushing weight of what he did for a hundred years more rather than hear Chase say that to him even once.

It leaves him so hollow that he can't seem to think of anything else, and the pain of everything else fades too, like he's reached the max of some limit he didn't know he had and now he'll just be a confused zombie for the rest of his life. Before he knows what he's doing, he's packing a few of his things into a bag. Henrik is gone somewhere, he doesn't know. And Jackie is standing there like a prison guard, in silence.

Marvin's in the entryway of their house in what seems to be a half-second, staring at the mirror that will take him back to the realm of the world. He manages to regain just enough awareness to turn back to Jackie behind him, dizzy.

“Call me in a couple days,” he manages. “Let me know where we're at. I'll find someone to stay with for a little while. But once you talk to JJ and see that I've treated him well, that I loved him – and once you have time to think about why I did what I did – you'll understand.”

Jackie doesn't say anything. He's staring at the wall.

“Promise me,” Marvin chokes. “Promise me you'll call.”

“Fine,” says Jackie quietly.

Marvin turns to the mirror, and then looks back again.

Jackie walks away from him without another word.

Marvin steps through the mirror. He's taken the portal that's closest to Henrik's hospital without thinking, and now he's practically in the middle of the city, standing in an alleyway with a single bag over his shoulder and a crushing weight in his chest. The people are rushing by around him. Everything is loud and bright and bursting, but he can't seem to take any of it in.

“Marvin.”

Just... just this terrible combination of dissociation and debilitating pain.

“Marvin, Marvin.”

Hands cup his face. He blinks and looks up.

Henrik. His Henrik. He followed him through the mirror.

“It's okay, I'll go with you,” promises Henrik, pressing their heads together, a bag of his own packed up on his back. “We'll figure this out. I know it wasn't you, Marvin. I know you wouldn't really do that. We're going to be okay, my poor brother. Here I am, Marvin. Here I am.”

Marvin collapses into his arms and weeps.

#marvin's cage #bee writes #jse egos #writers of jack

61 notes · View notes

glitterge1pen · 3 years

Text

Put A Basket On My Bike

Kyōtani Kentarou x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 3,039

Your apartment complex was composed of seven buildings. Each building was made of two towers that went ten floors up. The two towers were connected by big concrete stairs that had green iron railing. A large platform would connect two apartments before the stairs took you to another floor.

Since the only thing that concealed the stairs from the outside was the railing most of the building was exposed. The sun shone endlessly and lots of people kept plants out on the space outside their doors. You had made a good choice moving here. But when you first moved in you had made one crucial mistake.

You were nice to the neighborhood kids.

You had been moving the last of your boxes into the front hall of your new apartment when three kids came bounding up the stairs. Their footsteps echoed in the labyrinth of stairs.

“Hey! Are you the one who just moved in? The new person?”

“It's rude to just say stuff, you to have to introduce us”

“Right!”

The most enthusiastic of the bunch was Flowerpot. The other stated their name was Poprocks and Flowerpot pointed to Sleep, who said nothing.

“Are those your real names?”

You asked with a sly smile.

“No! Of course not, what are you stupid?”

“Thats rude”

“Right, sorry”

Flowerpot explained that their nicknames were two summers old and that they had chosen names based on their absolute favorite things. You laughed.

“Your favorite thing ever is a flowerpot?”

“Not a flower pot, all flower pots!”

“You can't yell it makes you sound mean”

Flowerpot and Poprocks bickered and argued like this some more. They only stopped when the quiet Sleep spoke up.

“Can we play here?”

“Yeah can we?”

Poprocks reiterated.

“The lady that lived here before you was so mean, she never let us play up here! No one lets us play anywhere, Mad Dog is the only person who doesn't care! And he's mean to!”

You figured that Mad Dog was your across the hall neighbor.

“Does everyone who lives here have nicknames?”

“Mad Dog came with the nickname it's different.”

Flowerpot said, his tiny arms flinging up in the air as he ranted.

“If he lets you guys play out here why did you call him mean?”

Poprocks jumped onto Flowerpots shoulders, excited to speak.

“Because he uses bad words, he never says good morning or smiles at anyone and he always plays his music too late at night!”

She seemed pleased with the list of your neighbors' atrocities and once again you could only laugh.

“Okay, if my neighbor over there doesn't care that you guys mess around out here neither do I”

That first spring in your apartment was filled with various elementary school kids shooting nerf guns, fighting with pinecones, petty arguements and a rare homework session. Other kids from different buildings would often flock to your floor as well. You didn't know most of these ones, but occasionally when Flowerpot, Poprocks, and Sleep would speak to you and talk about apartment complex drama. You were able to differentiate with ‘the kid who always wants to be Mikey when you guys play Ninja turtles’ or ‘the kid who brings over water guns’ and so on.

You left out a bowl of candy for the kids and on your way out for the day you usually ran into Sleep’s mom, who would thank you for letting the kids “make a mess in front of your house” before waving you off.

Besides the pleasant atmosphere of your new home, there was also Kyotani.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　

The first time you saw Kyotnai was two days after being officially moved in. He was bringing up his groceries and looked tired so you only waved to him before heading inside your own place. You found that Poprocks was right. Sometime around 11:30 Kyotnai started listening to music. Loud. So loud. You were across the hall and could feel the vibrations of the music. The people below him must be pissed. You were pissed actually.

The next morning when you saw him pulling a bike over his shoulders on his way down the stairs you stopped him.

“Hi, I just moved in a couple days ago,”

You trailed off, he was staring so intensely. You turned away, forgetting where you were going with this conversation beyond the simple introduction. After telling him your name you expected him to introduce himself. He just kept looking at you, eyebrows creased, head tilted up to look at you as you were two steps above him. A panic settled in over you. Your mind scrambled for anything to grasp to make this less awkward.

“Those kids who play out here called you Mad Dog-”

“My name is Kyotani.”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　

After the terrible first meeting you had with your neighbor you did your best to avoid him. You didn't want to deal with whatever it was that had transpired between you two. Well actually, nothing had transpired between you. Much to your surprise that was just how Kyotani was.

When he went to pick up his mail from the front office, he would shoulder check anyone who was standing too close to his mailbox. When he left to go somewhere on his bike he rode in the middle of the parking lot, once you had watched him turn onto the street and when a car almost hit him he just flipped them off.

You couldn't decide if he was arrogant, always running late and that's why he came off as rude, or if he just didn't care. Maybe it was all three. For about two weeks you waited for him to leave first in the mornings and put your headphones on when the music from across the hall got too loud.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　

You had gotten home unexpectedly early. When you came up the stairs you stopped and watched the scene before you in slight amazement. Poprocks and some of the girls from another building were all huddled around Kyotani. One of them had brought their bike over.

“I’m sorry, I know you fixed it that one time but it came off again and I tired to do it but I didn't do it right”

The girl was almost crying and Poprocks patted her back soothingly.

“You're like nine its a miracle you even kinda knew how to fix this”

Kyotani said, his voice still had that gruff edge but you thought it wasn't too bad when he wasn't being horridly awkward.

“Look,”

He said pointing down to a part of the bike by the pedals.

“The chain works because it's tight, when you switch gears that changes how tight the chain is. When it fell off you put it on the wrong ring”

Now he moved his hands to the back of the bike and pushed on another part.

“Because the chain isn't tight, you can just pick it up, and put it where it's supposed to go, put it around the ring, then you just let go of this back here, and done”

Kyotani removed his hands from the bike. The girls cheered and spun the back wheel of the bike to test it.

“It's that easy?”

The girl said with a smile.

“That easy. I can break it again and you can try to fix it”

“No!”

All three girls shouted at once before hurrying away past you down the rest of the stairs. It was now that Kyotani saw you. There was a brief moment of eye contact before you pretended to look for your keys and he went inside his apartment.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　

A couple days later you found yourself headed down to the pool. It had been a mostly shitty week and then you remembered the hot tub. There was only about an hour or so until the pool area that stood in the middle of the complex closed. But you were going to make sure it was an hour well spent. You got yourself ready, grabbing head phones, something to look at while you sat in the hot tub.

It had been cloudy all day so you doubted that anyone was down there. It hadn't rained and the sky had thrown no lightning so you felt safe heading down. Covering your swim wear with a t-shirt and grabbing some sandals you headed down.

You were walking along the cement path to the pool when you spotted a familiar blonde head already in the hot tub. Your steps faltered and you almost stopped. But you lived here, this was your home. You didn't want to feel uncomfortable around anyone here.

Opening the gate with your key three people turned to look at you. You ignored the note of your presence and took off your t-shirt, tossed your belongings onto a beach chair, and did your best to feel confident.

“Mind if I get in?”

“Sure!”

It wasn't Kyotani who answered, but one of the guys he was with. He had brown hair that swopped in front of his eyes a bit.

“This is Iwaizumi,”

Kyotani said pointing to the other person in the hot tub with you guys.

“And this is someone who wasn't supposed to come today but wouldn't stop calling me”

Mentioned person ignored Kyotani and focused only on you.

“My name is Oikawa, nice to meet you,”

After saying this Oikawa turned away from you to face Kyotani.

“You know you if you wanted me to leave you could have just asked”

Oikawa’s voice was double dipped in sarcasm and his face was so dramatic.

“I did actually tell you to leave”

Oikawa and Kyotani went back and forth like this. It eased your nerves, made you feel welcomed. You watched the lap of small waves and bubbles in the stream of warm water. You wished you could stay out in the relaxing water longer.

“Are you a friend of his”

Iwaizumi asked motioning his head to Kyotani, he sat across from you but the other two boys were too engrossed in arguing to pay attention to what he was saying. You sure weren't close to Kyotani, you were barely aqutinaces, but it would spoil the mood if you said otherwise. So only responded with a playful,

“Maybe”

Iwaizumi nodded before asking another question.

“You live here too?”

“Yeah, I actually live across from Kyotani”

Oikawa saw an opportunity to jump in here.

“What's that like? Terrible?”

“Shut up Oikawa”

Kyotani said quickly, flicking droplets of water at the other with his fingers.

“Besides the loud music it's not too bad”

You said with a shrug of your shoulders. Kyotani turned to you, a puzzled look adorning him.

“The music is loud?”

“Are you kidding? Has no one ever said anything to you before?”

The words came out as a stifled laugh as you watched Kyotani try to process this information.

“Why didn't you say anything before?”

You were about to answer when a crack of thunder cut you off.

“Shit”

Kyotani said before hosting himself out of the hot tub. The other boys followed suit and you all headed up to the building together.

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?”

Oikawa said, pulling you to him by the shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“You should ask someone if it's okay to touch them before you touch them dumbass”

“Oh he's actually right about something, sorry about that”

Oikawa apologized and pulled his arm off you.

“Apology accepted, and I was planning on watching a movie maybe getting some take out, nothing extragevent”

“Let us come over!”

“Really?”

You said, surprised that your rather normal plans excited Oikawa.

“I can use a movie night where I don't have to watch a Godzilla movie. By the way did you know there are a lot of Godzilla movies?”

“It’s not every time, okay? I let you pick movies too!"

Iwaizumi said, suddenly getting defensive. The two were in their own heated conversation now as Kyotnai and you trailed behind them up the stairs.

“Are you sure it's okay if we come over?”

“I’m sure”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

"Oh, sorry I can come back another time,"

You said to Kyotani, propping open the swinging door with your foot. Usually you did laundry on a different day but the week had been busier than expected.

"It's okay. I'm leaving-"

He was cut off by the sound of Sleep and Flowerpot jumping down the stairs. There were laundry rooms on every other floor, they sat on platforms in-between the sets of stairs. They only had a washer and dryer, and enough room for one person to come sit watch over their clothes.

"Hey let me help!"

Flowerpot dipped underneath your laundry basket and pushed it up from your grasp. Sleep rushed to help his friend before the basket had chance to fall over. They placed it onto the washing machine with a thunk.

"How come you little shits are so nice to them and not to me?"

"Because they're nice to us!"

Flowerpot said pointing at you.

Kyotani made a sound somewhere between a growl and a gruff laugh.

"What and I'm not?"

Flowerpot crossed their arms, not backing down to Kyotani.

"Just because you fix our bikes and toys and stuff doesn't count"

"I don't know, sounds pretty nice to me"

You said teasingly.

“The parents of the building hanging out!”

“Huh?”

You said as Poprocks bounded into the cramped room and pulled herself up on top of the dryer. Her swinging legs shut the hatch that Kyotani had just opened. The kids laughed at his annoyed expression.

“You guys always do stuff for us, and even though it's not a yard you let us play in your yard”

You were able to laugh but Kyotani said nothing, his head buried too far into the dryer for you to see his face.

“Speaking of parents dont you kids have other adults to go bother?” You asked them.

“Woah, Mad Dog, how hot is it in there?”

Flowerpot asked curiously when Kyotani pulled his head and the last of his clothes from the dryer.

“What?”

Kyotani said.

“Your face is so red it has to be really hot-”

“Hey don't do that!”

Both you and Kyotani said at the same time as Flowerpot attempted to stick his head in the dryer. Kyotani yanked at the kids shirt pulling him out.

“I’m fine! I’m fine! It's not even that hot!”

“It's rude to yell like that”

“I know!”

“Then why are you still yelling?”

With that Flowerpot chased Poprocks out of the room, Sleep and Kyotani following them out. Leaving you alone to do your laundry in quiet.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

“That's weird”

You said looking at the banking app on your phone. Your paycheck hadn't deposited yet. Most Fridays the money just showed up in your account. You closed the app and then opened it again only to get an error message. You tried on your laptop. Then you googled your bank's name and found a couple articles talking about how your bank was updating their app, website, and other internal servers. Something hadn't gone correctly though. A lot of people couldn't access their accounts online.

You decided you would deal with this issue tomorrow. You opened up the fridge trying to piece together a meal with what you had when pure fear raced up your spine. It was the first of the month. Rent was due. You ran to your room putting your shoes back on, checking what time the bank closed, grabbing your wallet and then running outside.

You were halfway down the stairs when you saw the bus you were supposed to be getting on pull off down the street. The one time the bus was there when it should be and you weren't there to get on it. The bank was going to close soon, it was about four miles away you wouldn't be able to walk there in time. You turned back up the stairs and knocked on Kyotanis door.

“How fast are you on your bike?”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Riding on the pegs of Kyotanis bike was a church like experience. You leaned over him, arms tightly wrapped around his shoulders. At turns and stop lights you closed your eyes, or buried your head into him. Everything was just blurs of sound and color. The two of you left behind whistles of speed as Kyotani continued to pedal faster and faster.

“I have the-”

The person in the car couldn't even finish before Kyotani spat out his own retort.

“I’m on a fucking bike!”

This was true. He was on a bike and somehow both very good and very bad at riding it. When he turned into the parking lot of the bank you two spun as he braked. You felt disoriented and didn't want to let go of him just yet.

“Do you have rent to pay or not?”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!”

You jumped down from the pegs and jogged into the bank. Kyotani had managed to get you there with only ten minutes before the bank closed. You weren't the only one in line to speak to a teller though. Your fingers tapped on your arm, your foot bounced worrying that you wouldn't be able to speak to anyone in time. But another teller opened their station and you were saved.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The ride home was much less stressful. You didn't feel nervous about being flung into oncoming traffic because Kyotani had also seemed to calm down. There was no aggressive speed or sharp turns. The wind felt gracious on your skin, the sun orange and cool in the dusk. It felt like you were gliding over the concrete.

“We should do stuff like this”

You said.

“What? Go to the bank again?”

“No, we should like hang out”

“Hm”

You slapped his shoulder.

“Don't just say hm”

“Fine, I agree we should,”

The words fumbled around in his mouth and it was the closet you'd ever see him stutter.

“Hang out”

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: No editing , no planning, just the usual late night word vomit.

#kyotani x reader #kyotani kentaro #Kyōtani Kentarō #kyoutani kentarou #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader

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hockeyboysiguess · 4 years

Text

two turtle doves -> two hockey skates | t. seguin

a/n: thank you for all your sweet comments on the first fic of this little holiday series :) here’s fic number two in my 12 days of christmas series! full list linked here.

word count: 3,643

warnings: alcohol, terrible skating, some questionable choices, cheesiness.

Christmas in Toronto, well outside of Toronto, with the Seguin family was going better than you had let yourself hope it would. Meeting Tyler’s family happened ages ago, but the decision to split holidays, Thanksgiving with yours and Christmas his, was a much bigger one that had brought nerves in never ending supply. Spending Christmas away from your own family, where you had always spent it, also had you worrying, on top of endless time with your boyfriend’s family where you felt like you always had to be on, you worried it wouldn’t feel like Christmas. But now, with the gifts opened and cherished, the fire roaring, dinner served and enjoyed, and with everyone drinking Tyler’s mom’s incredible spiked hot chocolate, your nerves had given way to warmth and love, and as cliché as it was, the Christmas spirit.

“How you doing, Ty?”

You smiled as you wrapped an arm around his waist from the side. His arm extended out, giving you space to tuck under it and into his side. He pulled you in tighter for a moment and dropped a kiss to your temple, other hand setting his fourth, possibly fifth, mug of spiked hot chocolate on the counter. The marshmallows in his mug floating on the surface were dissolving into the cocoa, a situation you knew Tyler was hoping to create, the candy cane used to stir discarded on the counter. It was the little things that made the holidays, not the big ones, like disintegrating marshmallows and his younger sister’s obsession with your family gingerbread recipe she swore was the best she ever had and the noise of the fire crackling in the background on top of a rare snowy Christmas in Tyler’s hometown.

“When are we going to get you to use your Christmas present?” Tyler asked you, words slurring a little together from a combination of alcohol, exhaustion, and the holidays.

“Oh, at some point, I guess,” you shrugged, then realized that might sound like you didn’t appreciate them before quickly adding, “I really appreciate them, Ty. Thank you.”

Tyler shook his head softly, “No, no, we need a plan to get you on the ice finally. None of this ‘at some point’ or ‘later, Ty’ bull. You’ve told me later for two years now and you know what? Now is later. Come on, get your coat.”

“Wait, you wanna go skating right now?” you squeaked out.

“You mean,” he snagged a Stars beanie off the counter and tugged it down over your head quickly, pulling it back by the pom pom to adjust it, “we’re going now. Full stop.”

You were sputtering out words as Tyler headed for the front coat rack. Your inability to skate, and your even stronger will not to learn at this point in your life, were a regular sticking point with Tyler, a person whose job required him to skate well. He offered to teach you way back on your second date, and back when you’d been trying your hardest to impress him, you’d agreed to take lessons from him but only because the teacher was cute. Tyler hadn’t actually scheduled any lessons back then, when he was trying even harder to impress you, so you quietly let the offer fade to black, hopefully never to be resurrected. But here Tyler was, bringing it back from the dead, when you least expected it, on Christmas Day, a day you never expected to spend with him, but now we’re pretty sure you never wanted to spend the day without him. However, you didn’t want to spend part of it falling flat on your face attempting to do the thing your boyfriend did for a living.

“Come on,” Tyler encouraged, as he laced his boots up tighter. “Get your coat. I’ll grab the skates.”

“Tyler, it’s after nine-”

“Stop giving me crap,” he teased you. “Coat, gloves, come on.”

You sighed and wanted to push back. It was dark. It was cold. It was snowy. It was Christmas, and yet, Tyler wanted to cash in on a promise from your second date. You pulled your coat on and wrapped a green scarf around your neck, Dallas Stars green, a reminder of just how much Tyler had permuted every aspect of your life, how important you made him, how central you made him. You never would be spending Christmas outside of Toronto, holding a brand new pair of ice hockey skates in one hand, walking down the Seguin’s neighborhood street, if you hadn’t made Tyler completely central to your future. Sometimes the thought of that, changing as much as you had for him, was terrifying, the kind of terrifying that made your hands shake and your chest tighten and your mind race down paths you barely knew excited because they were so rarely tracked. But then, like he did in that moment, Tyler turned to you and gave you his widest smile, smiling so hard to do it that his nose scrunched up and his eyes squeezed shut, and you remembered exactly why it wasn’t terrifying at all. He loved you with a pureness that reminded you of a child’s love of Christmas morning, but with the depth to grow and change with you the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year.

Maybe for him, you would try to learn to skate afterall.

Tyler turned at the house at the end of the block, heading straight to the side gate. He noticed your puzzled expression and offered an explanation, “Neighbors built a little ODR they didn’t mind sharing when I asked.”

“Tyler Seguin, how long have you been planning this?” you huffed, pausing in the open gate to give him a look that signalled you knew Tyler needed to come clean.

He gave you a sheepish smile before saying, “Since you said you would come for Christmas?”

“Tyler, that was in October!” you cried out, a laugh edging at your voice.

“The lessons are part of your Christmas present,” he replied, pushing aside your whining tone. “Can’t give you a gift you can’t use and not teach you how to use it, right?”

You sighed as you rounded the corner of the yard to reveal a small, but serviceable outdoor rink his neighbors created on a pond in their back garden. Tyler ushered you out with a wave towards the pond and your brows furrowed, but he just waved his hands to usher you along. It was dark, far too dark for you to possibly learn to skate in this, with just the faint lighting from his neighbor’s back patio showing the outline of the pond and a small bench beside it. You dropped down onto the bench and began to unlace your boots.

Just as you pulled the second boot off, suddenly, the pond was flooded with light, making you jump a little in surprise. There were lights all around, spotlights, string lights, lanterns, everything it seemed the family could find to make the backyard as bright as possible. You shook your head softly as a smile came over your face. Of course.

“Tada!” he shouted as he trudged through the snow to cross the yard to you. “The family that lives here is out of town for the holidays, but they were super nice and told me how to set it all up so I could teach you. Do you like it?”

The skates in your lap and the ice in front of you that would soon be combined in a way sure to cause you physical pain made you want to say you didn’t love it, but the look on Tyler’s face, the obvious meticulous planning, and the thoughtfulness of the gesture made you feel otherwise. Plus, it was a Christmas gift and you couldn’t tell Tyler you didn’t like his Christmas gift because you were embarrassed you got this far into life, this far into a relationship with a professional hockey player, never learning how to skate.

“It’s great,” you smiled at him as he plopped down onto the bench next to you. “Thank you, Ty.”

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he told you before dropping a kiss to your temple in reply.

You slid your skates on at the same time Tyler did, and you did your best to copy his motions, looping the laces on your skates to pull them tight. Tyler tried not to laugh, but you definitely weren’t pulling hard enough or loosening them at the right points or something else wrong because Tyler was done and laced up before you’d even gotten part of the way through one of your two hockey skates. Tyler laughed, more at your struggle compared to his practiced ease than actually at you, before sliding onto the ground in front of you, one knee dropping into the snow.

“Let me do it,” he said as he pushed your hands away softly.

He looked up at you with curious eyes for a moment. There was that familiar glint of a patented Tyler Seguin idea in them, which made you cock your head and furrow your brows at him. He just smiled wide, shook his head softly, and turned his attention back to your skates.

“What?” you pressed him softly. “What did you just think of, Ty?”

He pulled the top of your laces on one boot tight to finish tying them as he spoke to you, “Just thinking about kneeling in front of you is all. Feels like it’s good practice, eh?”

You sighed, “Ty, you can’t make jokes like that.”

He barked out a laugh as he tightened the laces on your other skate, “Who said I was joking?”

Before you could form a response, Tyler was up on his skates and pulling you up too. He led you to the edge of the pond, then took a confident step onto the ice when he reached in. Effortlessly, he spun on his skates to face you, reaching two hands out, ready to take yours and help you take your first steps onto the ice. He made it look so easy, as easy as walking, but you knew if you tried to do what he just did without you, you were going to look like a very short baby giraffe, legs splayed out, flat on the ice. You huffed and Tyler gave you an encouraging smile as you gave the ice a disapproving look.

“I’m not going to let you fall, baby,” Tyler said lazily. He outstretched hands opened and closed in front of you to encourage you to grab onto them. “Come on, it’s just skating.”

“You’re tipsy and a professional,” you pointed out. “I’m tipsy and a complete novice.”

“I’ll have you know I’m one of the best in my field,” and the cheeky smile to accompany his words drew an eye roll from you. “Tipsy or not, I can still make sure you don’t fall.”

“Pretty sure I’m going to make you eat your words, Seguin.”

Without a second thought, another second to rethink the moment, you slapped your gloved hands into Tyler’s and put one foot on the ice. Your foot immediately started to slide forward, toward Tyler, and you panicked. Tyler was ready for your panic and pulled your hands, forcing you to put your other foot on the ice. You let out a small scream and Tyler laughed.

“Baby, you’re so stinking cute,” he whined as you managed to, with as much force as you could muster using his hands as an anchor, stand up mostly straight in front of him.

“I hate you, Tyler Seguin,” was all you could come up with in response.

Your response made Tyler tip his head back and let out a long, full bellied laugh, bending his back into it as he laughed. Tyler seemed to forget your balance was incredibly precarious and entirely dependent on him. The three inches he shifted back on the ice as he laughed completely unbalanced you, sending your feet sliding forward too quickly and making you release his hands in favor of his forearms in a desperate grab for balance.

“Whoa, whoa!” Tyler was still laughing as he spoke. “Easy there. I’ve got you.”

“Does not feel like you do,” you grumbled, trying to focus on your feet in order to keep them steady now.

“Okay, okay,” Tyler sighed. “First, don’t look at your feet. Look where you trying to go.”

“What direction is home?” you quipped back without missing a beat.

“Ha, ha,” Tyler replied dryly. “Look at me. You want to go toward me.”

You let out a quick, irritated breath. You knew a large part of the reason you were irritated is because you were being asked to do something you were terrible at, in front of someone who was amazing at it, who just so also happened to be your boyfriend. No one liked to do things they knew they would be terrible at, let alone in front of someone who was so practiced in it that they probably couldn’t explain it well. In fact, that was your problem that developed after about two minutes with Tyler trying to teach you how to skate. Tyler couldn’t explain how to skate in the slightest.

“Just push off on one foot, let your other one slide. Put the foot you just pushed off with on the ice again, and push with the one that was sliding. Go back and forth and then tada, you’re skating.”

That was his best explanation of the lesson and you could confidently surmise that Tyler Seguin was an absolutely horrendous skating coach. And he was a drunk skating coach. Maybe, if you were throwing your boyfriend a bone he didn’t deserve, you could say if he was sober, he might be doing better, but deep in your heart you knew that wasn’t true. Tyler Seguin was definitely a terrible teacher, trying to teach something he could do forwards, backwards, diagonally, with his eyes closed, and made millions of dollars doing, while drunk. You were the one suffering. Tyler was having incredible time watching you flail and grip onto his arms to avoid falling flat on your face.

“Tyler, help me!” you pressed.

“It’s so funny. You’re like a baby penguin,” he managed to get out through his laughter. “So cute. So clumsy.”

“Tyler!”

He cleared his throat and sucked in a deep, centering breath before saying, “I think part of your problem is that you’re afraid to fall. If you aren’t afraid to fall, you’re going to be too focused on doing exactly what’s keeping you from falling and not actually skating.”

“Well, I don’t exactly want to fall, Ty. That’s not really the goal,” you said pointedly, your hands digging into his forearms when he shifted suddenly.

“Falling is part of skating,” he told you. “I fall all the time. Get too on an edge or try to turn too tight or get rammed into by some wrecking ball on skates. But I just hop right back up and go again. You have got to get over this fear of falling and learn how to fall and get back up. Otherwise, you’re not going to learn.”

Whether or not tipsy Tyler meant that statement to have merit and weight outside of the context of skating, you doubted, but it did. That’s the attitude you carried with you when you were at school, at work, everywhere. “It’s better to have tried and failed than to live life wondering what would've happened if I had tried,” by Alred Lord Tennyson popped into your head. Just maybe Tyler was right about something. Maybe your biggest hurdle was just the one in your head and you needed to, on the most magical of all holidays where miracles came true and the world was a little brighter, take a deep breath and fail spectacularly under the hazy eyes of the boy you loved.

It didn’t even cross your mind that you were definitely still feeling the affects of that infamous spiked hot chocolate, not even for a second.

You nodded and took in a deep breath as you did. Tyler raised his eyebrow to check in with you and you nodded again. You released your choking grip on his forearms and Tyler slowly backed up, giving you space to try on your own for a moment. You took a second to pause, your feet shuffling a little out of the natural movement of your body, making your arms flail to steady yourself. It wasn’t pretty, but you managed to stay upright after moving an accidental inch unassisted and for you, that was progress.

“Okay, okay,” you mumbled to yourself.

You mentalled tossed out every single lesson Tyler had tried to impart on you on the ice that evening, knowing all of it was absolute drunken nonsense and wasn’t going to help you skate. You were better off going with your nonexistent skating instincts, which were just a series of mental clips from probably inaccurate ice skating scenes from terrible Hallmark and Netflix Christmas movies. The actors were never the ones skating, but someone had to for the shot, so you figured it had to be at least partially accurate. You knew if you looked down, you would definitely topple over, you looked out onto the snow covered lawn ahead and hesitantly pushed forward with one foot. Before you started to lose your balance, you took a chance and pushed off on your other foot, letting yourself glide just a little in between.

“Your first successful skate!” Tyler gasped from somewhere beside you. “I feel like a proud mom at the preschool Christmas pageant.”

Normally, you would’ve told him exactly where he could stick that comment, but you were focused on trying to make it as far as you could before the precarious house of cards that was you on your skates fell. You had a messy, incredibly atrocious rhythm going now. You knew you had to look ridiculous, partially bent over, arms out wide, tongue stuck out between your teeth in concentration, but you were skating and no one said it had to be pretty to count. You realized one thing too late though, far too late to even begin to do anything about it. Tyler was too far behind you, filming your first skate like the proud soccer mom he was, and far too tipsy to clue into what was about to happen. There was nothing you could do. You just had to accept that this was how your journey would end.

You hit the edge of the pond roughly, the front half of your skate blades hitting the snow and you unceremoniously face planted into the snow surrounding the edge of the pond. You tried to twist as you fell to make it anything other than a complete face plant, but much like the end result of your first solo skating attempt, you failed spectacularly. Tyler was behind you in a second, dropping down onto his knees in the snow next to you and brushing your hair back to try and get a view of your face.

“Baby, are you hurt? Oh my god,” Tyler started rambling. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I should’ve kept closer to you so I could’ve done something. I should’ve-”

“Maybe you should’ve taught me how to stop, you idiot,” you grumbled out after lifting your face from the snow. “Stopping might have been a good first lesson, you know, like how dads teach you to drive. They make sure you know where the brake is first.”

“You know,” Tyler mused as you pushed yourself up onto your knees, “that probably would’ve been a good idea.”

“Oh, ya think?” You glared at him before beginning to brush off snow from your body.

“So next lesson-”

“No way,” you cut him off. “I’m asking Jamie to teach me. You’re fired, coach.”

Tyler gave a whine that could only be described as like a petulant child who was just told they couldn’t open their Christmas presents two weeks early. He pouted at you, Dallas Stars pom pom beanie on his head flopping forward as he tilted his head to go with his jutted out lower lip.

“Come on,” he begged softly. “Let me try again. Give me one more shot as your teacher. I’ll even be sober for the next lesson. I promise.”

“If you aren’t, I’m suing you for damages,” you teased him, a smile coming across your face slowly.

While you hadn’t succeeded, in fact your fall had been far worse than anything you had pictured it would be, you couldn’t deny you had a good time and it was really only because of the boy whose pout was slowly changing to a smile because of your own. You still couldn’t skate. In fact, you thought you might be a worse skater now than your previous baseline of zero. Tyler hadn’t taught you a single thing this Christmas about skating, but Tyler taught you a lot about Tyler. He liked way too many marshmallows in his spiked hot chocolate, he ripped wrapping paper to absolute shreds, and he relished in matching Christmas sweaters even though he pretended to hate them. You also learned that Tyler Seguin, who sometimes acted before he spoke, and was just a little too over eager for you occasionally, cared more deeply about you than you could possibly understand. Being loved like he loved you was rarer than the perfect Christmas day, which today had been, faceplant included.

Most of all, you learned Tyler wanted to spend every Christmas for the rest of his life with you too, and that was the best gift you’d ever received on Christmas, the knowledge that he too wanted to spend the rest of his life sharing Christmases with you.

#Tyler Seguin #tyler seguin fanfic #tyler seguin fanfiction #tyler seguin imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl blurbs #nhl imagine #hockey writing #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey imagine

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

Text

First Date/First Time w/ Mobster!Paz

AN: Alright everyone here is the first installment of Mobster!Paz passed what I have written for asks! I decided to combine these two prompts because 1-I could and 2- because things having been going good for me lately I wanted to celebrate with something nice! Just fyi this was not beta'd or even just read through so if there is mistakes let me know, but I will probably read through it and fix them at some point soon! I hope you enjoy!

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Words: 3.7k

Warnings: AFAB!reader but no real pronouns used, no Y/N, slight descriptions of violence but noting extreme, SMUT 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, P in V, no protection used (wrap it before you tap it guys, gals, and nonbinary pals), excessive use of the nickname doll

You had been working as a waitress at The Palace speakeasy for the notorious Boba Fett for roughly three months when your favorite customer, known muscle of The Children of the Watch, Paz Vizsla finally asked you on a date. The two of you had been dancing around each other and your feelings since that first meeting your first week working in the speakeasy. Your first time meeting the man had left you overwhelmed with so many feelings that you hadn’t been able to sort through, but one thing you had recognized was just how happy Paz had made you, leaving you with a smile that wouldn’t leave your face for the following days.

When you had started working at The Palace you had thought that you were going to be surrounded by the lowest of low lifes and the grossest men and women alive, and while yes you were surrounded by the lowest of lows, you did soon find out that these criminals all had a code and they treated you fairly for the most part. Of course you had the occasional rowdy customer, but they were delt with swiftly by those at the surrounding tables. One thing was for sure though, when one of the big three of The Children of the Watch were present somewhere in the building people were more cautious and well behaved, not wanting to get on any of their bad sides, and you realized why when one day a rowdy customer had gotten in your personal space and Paz had been sitting in his usual booth sipping his drink. You barely had time to blink before the customer had been ripped away from you by a large hand and slammed them into a nearby table in a show of strength that had you biting your lip and you clenching your thighs in arousal. Paz had only turned to you as he held the man down on the table by his neck and smiled at you before winking and telling you, “I’ll be right back doll, why don’t you go take a break and I will meet you back at my table?”

After that incident you had realized what all those feelings you were having for the dangerous man were, and when he was able to come into to speakeasy after it became harder and harder to keep your eyes away from him. And every time you glanced his way you always found him leaning back in his seat with his drink in hand watching you, and when your eyes met he would always send a smile your way with a wink that never failed to heat rise in your face. And he would always make your heart jump through hurdles when he offered to walk you home each time with earnest eyes and a kind smile. How could you not feel something for the man when he treats you as if you hung the stars in the sky and with respect that few women ever receive?

So when one night he stopped you at your door after walking you home, you were shocked and overjoyed when he asked you if you were free for lunch Saturday with a shy smile while rubbing the back of his neck. You had bit your lip and nodded giving him a breathless yes. His shy smile turned into a broad smile and he had reached out for your hand kissing the back of it before telling you, "I'll come and pick you up here at 11 am sharp, doll. I’d tell you to dress your best, but I know you look good in whatever you wear.” With that, he kissed your palm with a wink before backing away and as he walked away from your home he was whistling a tune that was all his own.

Saturday found you waking up early, excited about what was to come with a giddy smile adorning your face. You had made yourself a small quick breakfast to eat as you got ready for your date, not wanting to eat anything too big as to spoil the food you would eat with Paz and so that you would have more time to perfect your appearance.

You started with your hair, making sure to style it perfectly and making sure to double-check that every hair was in the correct place. The longest part of getting ready was applying your makeup meticulously, you didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard, but you wanted to look like you had put effort into your look. Then you made sure to pick out your favorite bra and panty set, not because you were expecting anything untoward to happen between you and Paz, but because the set made you feel pretty and confident. Now it was nearing closer and closer to the time Paz was to pick you up, and you couldn’t for the life of you decide what outfit you wanted to wear. You didn’t want to wear something too casual, but you also didn’t want to wear something that was too dressy. You bit your lip and agonized over your options for what felt like forever before you decided on an outfit that you had worn previously in front of Paz and you had noticed how his eyes had drunk in your silhouette multiples times throughout that evening. And it seemed you had made your decision in the knick of time because as soon as you had pulled on your clothes and righted everything, you heard a knock on the door.

You had rushed to the door and yelled out, “Coming!” as soon as you were close enough. Once you reached the door you took a second to take a deep breath before opening the door with a wide smile. On the other side of the door stood the hulking figure of Paz Vizsla who was wearing a charming smile as well as pressed dress pants and a matching suit jacket with a beautiful wine red turtle neck underneath. You watched as his eyes soaked up the sight of you as you whispered out a shy, hello. He moved his eyes to meet yours before pulling his hand from his side where he held a bouquet of the prettiest flowers you had ever seen and he held it out to you saying, “Doll, I would have dressed up more if I had known I was going to be escorting the prettiest girl in the city.”

Taking the bouquet with a giggle you motioned him inside as you went to find a vase for the flowers he had brought you. Paz had followed you into the house, shutting the door and taking in your small home the best he could, while also watching you flit about filling the vase you had found and placing the flowers on your kitchen counter with a soft smile as you leaned down to smell the soft fragrance that flowed from the flowers. When you turned around, you had found Paz standing behind you with a smile so perfect and happy that you could look at it for hours, but you had only shook your head and told him, “You say that, but here you are wearing a suit.”

Paz chuckled and held out his arm for you to take, asking if you were ready. Nodding you wrapped your hand around his arm and let him lead you from your home.

Being in Paz’s company had always been easy and flowed nicely, even with all the tension flowing between the two of you. The date was much of the same, and even though it was technically your first date with the man, it seemed as if this was more of your 12th with how much the two of you had spent sitting together in the corner of the speakeasy and the late nights he had walked you home. Nothing was different really, other than the time of day and the location of where the two of you were together.

Paz, rather than driving, had taken to walking with you a short distance to a small restaurant that you had not even realized was there. When the two of you had walked into the quaint little building, you were taken aback by the man who you assumed to be the owner yelling out Paz’s name loudly and coming over to give him a friendly pat on the shoulder. The two chatted like old friends for a minute before Paz had turned to you and told the man, “This here is my girl, and I was wondering if you might happen to have a table open towards the back for the two of us for the lunch?”

The man smiled at you and shook your hand as you introduced yourself before he turned back to Paz and said, “For you my friend there is always a table open, and I am honored you would bring your lovely date to my restaurant.” As soon as the man had finished he had turned around motioning for the two of you to follow him as he led you towards the back where the tables were a bit more secluded. Paz had walked around the table and pulled out the chair for you to sit in with a chivalrous smile, before crossing over to his seat across from you. Menus were handed to you as soon as you both were settled and the owner had told you both, “Holler if you need anything, whatever you want we will provide,” and with a smile, he left you in the hands of a waiter.

Lunch went by smoothly, not that you didn’t think it would, and the food was absolutely delicious. And you had to admit that sharing the slice of cheesecake had been the best part of the entire lunch, Paz had taken the fork from your hand and with a smile had fed you bites of the dessert with a smile. You had noticed about halfway through the slice, that Paz’s eyes darkened every time you wrapped your lips around the fork, and suddenly the entire restaurant had felt warm as you watched the muscles in his arms move as he brought the fork to your lips. When you had finished the dessert the two of you had sat in silence for a few minutes just watching each other and every time you made eye contact you couldn’t help but to rub your legs together at how he was eyeing you with a fiery gaze that made heat pool in your belly and feel guilty.

By the time the two of you had walked out of the restaurant, it was late afternoon and Paz had walked at a slower pace towards your house, trying to drag out the time the two of you spent together. The walk home was silent and tense from how your meal had ended, but it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, just you didn’t want to part from Paz so soon. So when your house had come into view you couldn’t stop the sad feeling that had washed over you. From the way, Paz’s shoulder’s dropped when you got to the steps of your home you figured Paz felt much the same about parting so early.

When the two of you stopped in front of your door, you turned to Paz biting your lip, contemplating inviting him in. You stood there for a minute and as you looked up at him and opened your lips to ask him about coming in you were immediately interrupted by Paz leaning down and connecting your lips with his own. He kissed you for a few seconds, and you were so shocked that you couldn’t process what was happening until he pulled back and rushed out, “I’m sorry doll, but I’ve been thinking about kissing you all day and I just couldn’t stop myself. I am so-” This time you didn’t let him finish as you reached up and pulled him down to kiss him. The kiss started sweet, but you soon found yourself pressed against your door with leg wedged between your own and pressing against you where you felt yourself throbbing with need for the man that was pressing closer to you every second. You couldn’t help the small mewl that escaped your lips as he bounced his leg against you slightly, then you felt him pull back from the kiss far enough so that he could speak, though with every word you could still feel his lips brushing against your own.

“Doll, tell me to stop or let me inside, please. I know this is just our first date, doll but I can’t help but want you in every way that I know I shouldn’t…”

You could feel his heavy breaths on your cheek as you turned your head and whimpered. Biting your lip you traced your nose along his jawline before you ground down against his leg and whispered breathlessly, “Please Paz, please take me inside. I want you too…”

Paz took a second to look into your eyes before he suddenly picked you up bridal style and threw open your door, and all you could do was let out a squeal of surprise and wrap your hands around his neck. As soon as Paz kicked the door shut he asked you where the bedroom was. You hadn’t even finished telling him when he took off in that direction, stopping only once to push you against the wall and start kissing you again, though this time he pressed his tongue against your lips until you opened your mouth and allowed him to explore every nook and cranny, memorizing the feel of your mouth with a groan.

By the time you both made it to the bed, you were breathless and your chest was heaving, which only cause Paz to groan and bury his face in your neck as he groped your breasts over your clothing making you mewl with him as your hardened nipples start to show through your bra. Then Paz pulled back and before you could even whine from the loss of his body he was asking you, “Doll will you strip for me? I wanna watch as you reveal that beautiful body to me, doll.”

You gave him a shaky nod and slowly started stripping down. It was sloppy and most likely far from sexy, but hearing Paz’s sharp intakes of breath at each new patch of skin revealed to him made you feel confident. So when you were left in your bra and panties you walked over to where Paz had settled himself on the edge of the bed, noticing the very prominent bulge in his pants. You bit your lip as you stopped in front of Paz and before Paz could even think to touch you, you reach forward pushed his suit jacket off of his shoulders, and pushed it onto the floor. You leaned down and kissed his nose softly as he watched you with hungry eyes, then you reached for his shirt and Paz helped you pull it off and toss it aside. Then Paz flipped you over onto your back, as he started kissing and sucking marks onto your chest and neck as he kicked off his shoes. Too caught up in the feeling of his mouth leaving his mark on your body, you didn’t realize Paz had stripped completely down until you felt something hot, har, and heavy fall against your thigh. When you glanced down you saw his large cock resting against your skin and leaking precum steadily. You felt yourself clench at the sight and you moaned out his name as you bucked up. In response, Paz gripped your waist and pulled away from the mark he had just left on your breast before he moved his lips to your ear and whispered huskily, “Patience doll. As much as I would like to just take you right this instant, I need to prep you to take me. I am anything but a small man.”

You whined and said, “please Paz,” but he had only hushed you and kissed his way down your body, taking your bra and panties off as he goes. When he reached where you ached for him he hummed and turned to kiss up and down each of your thighs, holding you in place so you didn’t move around on him. After he had left what he deemed to be an acceptable mark on both of your inner thighs, he finally looked at you before he nuzzled against your throbbing clit before taking it into his mouth. The shout of please you let out only made him smile and swirl his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Paz continued to taste and tease you at a slow leisurely pace that had you a moaning mess. Then he pressed a finger into you and you swear that you saw heaven as he started to move his finger in and out of you at the same pace as his mouth.

It didn’t take Paz long for him to add a second finger or even a third. Soon he had you practically sobbing from the pleasure he was giving. And as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the precipice, you tried to warn him but your lips couldn’t form any words past Paz’s name. So when Paz angled his fingers up and finally pushed you over the edge you could only let out a broken sob of Paz’s name that ended in a silent scream as Paz continued to move his fingers inside of you and mouth unhurriedly against your clit. When he finally pulled away from you you felt as if he had taken every bone in your body with him. You laid there limp on his bed trying to catch your breath from the orgasm Paz had just gifted you. Paz stood up slowly and hissed as he pumped his painfully aching cock a few times.

When you came back to yourself it was to the sight of Paz standing between your spread legs gripping the base of his cock and his face shiny from saliva and your cum. Moaning at his somewhat wrecked appearance, you saw Paz’s eyes jump up to meet your own before he leaned over you and gave you a slow sweet kiss. When he pulled back from the kiss he slow asked, “Think you’re up for more doll? Maybe something bigger?”

At his words, you could only nod with a broken please passing your lips as you bucked your hips up against his own. Paz obviously didn’t need to be told twice as he immediately reached down and lined himself up with you before pressing his cock into you. Paz went slowly and you gripped his shoulders whimpering as your walls stretched around his girth. It wasn’t necessarily painful but the farther he pressed into you the more it stung. When you finally felt him bottom out and press his hips against yours, the both of you sighed. Paz stayed seated in you for a few minutes until he felt your walls relax around him slightly, then he started pulling out slightly, grinning when he hear you whimper in his ear. When he only had the head of his cock still buried inside of you he started pushing back inside of you just as slowly with a groan, grunting out, “Fuck doll, you’re so tight, holding onto my cock like you don’t wanna let it go. Fu-uck I could stay inside of you forever…”

After a few of the slow thrusts, you started to while and buck up against him, so Paz picked up his speed and set a steady pace that had you moaning and mewling in his ear. Paz fucked into you steadily not changing anything other than where he was aiming, trying to find that spot that had you clench so tightly against his finger not long ago. He knew the second he found it as you threw your head back and your eyes rolled back as you begged him to hit it again. Paz felt himself getting closer to his end so he picked up the pace making sure to hit that spot inside of you as often as he could. He knew you were getting close with how you were tightening around him and moaning out his name over and over, so he reached down and pressed his thumb to your clit and started circling it groaning out, “Doll, please, oh fuck, please cum all over my cock. God, please cum on my cock, doll.”

From the mixture of Paz’s thrusts hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars, his fingers massaging your clit, and his encouragement you felt him throw you over the edge yet again, but this time you really did feel yourself scream and clutch onto his shoulders. Then you felt Paz’s thrust start to get sloppy and you could hear his grunts with every thrust into your oversensitive walls. Then he suddenly pulled out of you and pumped his cock with his hand only once before he was cumming all over your thighs and pussy with his head thrown back and his hand pumping himself until he stopped cumming.

When Paz opened his eyes and looked over your spent body he groaned and told you, “Doll you are the prettiest thing I have ever seen, and the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Then he leaned up and kissed your forehead right as you felt yourself dowing off in the aftermath of the two earthshattering orgasms Paz had given you. When you had come out of your trace it was to Paz cleaning your body off with a washcloth and him telling you to rest, he would take care of you. So you did just that, trusting Paz, you fell asleep content and happy. When you had woken up a few hours later, you found yourself cuddled into his side and you smiled as you watch the man that you had seen break noses and throw people around like rag dolls sleep peacefully while holding you close. Smiling you you cuddled into his side and allowed yourself to fall back into a peaceful sleep, feeling completely safe and content.

Tags: @fuckyeahbeskar @katie-sheep-111 @phoenixhalliwell @maybege

Thanks for reading and I would love to hear your feedback! Likes and REBLOGS are super appreciated!!

#paz vizsla x reader #paz x reader #afab!reader #mobster!paz vizsla #mobster!paz #boba fett #mobster au

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queenxxxsupreme · 3 years

Note

Soft prompt idea: First time Lambert's SO tells him "I love you" ❤

A/N: I AM ON FUCKING FIRE TODAY and I’m so happy 🙂 I hope you like this babe!! Also this might be a little OOC for Lambert, but he’s being a softy in this so it really is OOC for him to be a big softy but that’s okay because we love him anyways!

***

Lambert followed a few paces behind you, guiding Champion by his reins.

The three of you were traveling through a swampy area in Velen. Lambert promised you on this part of your journey that you’d be able to take a little bit of time in the swamp to collect whatever herbs and things you wanted while you were passing through. You were excited. The swamps held so many wondrous things you couldn’t find in the North.

The witcher made sure to follow behind you, but not too far behind you. He wanted to be able to keep his eyes peeled for any signs of danger without his paranoid behavior distracting you.

You came to a stop, pulling the knife on your hip out. You stepped off of the small dirt path, picking up your skirt as best as you could with one hand, and moved towards a large rock covered in moss.

“Watch where you’re stepping, bug.”

“I am.” You knelt down by the rock and examine the moss. “Can you hand me one of the empty jars from my satchel?”

Lambert moved around to Champion’s side, opening your satchel and digging around inside for a moment to find an empty little jar.

“Is this one good?” He asked, holding up a relatively small jar.

“Yes, that works. Thank you.”

Once he passed it to you, you were able to scrape off enough moss to fill the jar.

“What is that for?”

“Moss is good for lots of stuff.” You passed the jar to him. “Coughs. Covering wounds.”

Lambert furrowed his brows together for a moment.

“Isn’t that what bandages are for?”

“Yes.” You grinned just a little. “Don’t question my ways, Master Witcher. I don’t question your methods, do I?”

The corners of his lips tugged up a little as he gave Champion’s reins a little tug to continue following you.

You lifted your skirts up and stepped into a rather deep mud puddle, sinking a few inches into the dark brown substance.

Lambert chuckled a little.

“What’s so funny?” You asked him, moving between a couple trees to get to a fern bush.

“You always get after me when I get mud on my boots.”

“Because you don’t take them off at the door and wear them through my house.” You shot him a look. “And most of the time, you boots stink of rotten corpses.”

“It’s not my fault the dead monster juices get everywhere.” He muttered.

Your nose scrunched up at his choice of words.

You gathered what you needed from the fern bush and began to make your way back to him.

“Please never describe it that way ever again, Lambert.”

He grinned, happy with himself, and took the fern pieces from you to put into a sachet.

A little while had passed and you found quite a lot of ingredients for your work. A peaceful silence had fallen between you and Lambert. He’d pull out a jar or sachet whenever you needed it and then put it away for you.

You couldn’t find the right words to describe how happy you were that he was okay with this. Previous lovers had all looked down on you going out and getting dirty in the woods for plants and rocks. Some even discouraged you from doing so even though it was a necessary part of your job.

As the end of the swamp came into sight, you moved on to the dirt path to walk alongside Lambert. You looked over to him, chewing on your bottom lip. He met your gaze, confused.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.” You shook your head, smiling a little. “Just…. Thank you for doing this with me.”

“I wasn’t going to let you come out here alone.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And we were passing through anyway.”

You nodded your head a little.

***

When nightfall came, you were lucky enough to find an inn. While Lambert went to stable Champion, you had a bath drawn.

You were absentmindedly dragging the soapy washcloth up and down your arm when there was a knock on the door to the room.

“Bug?”

“In here, Lambert.” You lifted your head, sitting up a little straighter.

He walked in, closing the door behind himself.

“I was gonna go down to our room, but there’s a lot of unsavory folk lingering around in the halls and I’d hate to have to skip town tonight ‘cause one of them decided to do something stupid.” He said, leaning against the door.

“I’ll be done in just a few minutes.” You told him, picking up the chunk of soap sitting on the side of the tub. You got the washcloth nice and soapy again before you went back to work on cleaning yourself.

“You’ve been awfully quiet today, bug.” Lambert commented.

You looked up at him for a moment, then brought your eyes back down to your leg.

“Usually you talk my damn ear off.”

“Just…. Thinking.”

Your tone was off. You had been thinking all evening. He knew something was wrong, that there was something on your mind you weren’t telling him.

The witcher pushed himself away from the door and moved to the side of the tub, kneeling down so he’d be at your level. Silently, he held his hand out for the washcloth. You handed it to him. He used his other hand to gently take hold of your chin. He turned your head towards him and began to wipe the dirt and mud from your forehead.

“About what?” His breath was warm against your face.

“How I…. I’ve never had someone do what you did for me today.”

His eyes avoided yours, choosing instead to focus on the smudge on your temple.

“Wasn’t much I did. We were just traveling through a shithole. Figured you’d have fun messing around in the mud.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t help but look down, tilting your head too. “But my previous partners, they’ve never…. They’d never allow me to do such a thing as walk out in the swamps like that. They’d never let me off the horse, let alone off the path. Some…. Some wouldn’t even let me collect herbs or my stones.”

Lambert furrowed his brows together.

“What kind of moron wouldn’t let a mage get shit they need for their work?”

You smiled just a little.

“Not everyone is as open minded and as nice you, darling.”

“You make me sound like some sort of saint.” He snorted. He dipped the washcloth into the water to rinse it off.

You were silent once more.

Lambert put the washcloth on the side of the tub and stood up.

He wasn’t too sure what was going through your head, sometimes it was difficult to read you, and sometimes it was hard for him to figure out the right way to approach the situation to get you to open up to him.

He turned to go back to the door to stand guard, but he got just a few steps away from the tub when you spoke.

“I think I’m…. That I’m in love with you.” You whispered.

The witcher turned on his heels to face you, brows drawing together.

“.... Because of the swamp?”

“No, no. I-I mean, it’s a combination of things.” You suddenly felt like maybe bringing this up while you were naked in the tub wasn’t the best of ideas. You pulled your knees as close to your chest as possible and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’ve-I’ve wanted to say it for a while. I mean, we’ve been together for a year and a half, almost two years. I just….”

Lambert looked down for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck.

“If-If you don’t feel the same-,”

“No, I do. I do.” He shook his head. “Just…. didn’t think this would come up here, in the dingy bath of a crusty inn in Velen. Kinda wanted to try to be a little romantic about it. Maybe do it on our two years? But romantic shit makes me queasy.”

You smiled softly at him.

“Why don’t, uh, why don’t you get out and get dressed? And then we can finish this not in here?”

You nodded your head.

You stood up and Lambert retrieved a towel for you, wrapping it around your shoulders. You thanked him and stepped out of the tub to dry off. He moved back to the door, wanting to give you space while you got dressed.

Once you were in proper clothes, you walked together down to the room you’d be staying in for the night. While Lambert secured the door, you climbed into bed.

“What was your idea of making it a little romantic?” You asked him, watching him as he came around to the side of the bed and got in.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders, running his hand over his hair. “I was hoping it would be at Kaer Morhen so I could make you dinner. Eskel has a stash of really nice wine in his room. I was going to steal a bottle.”

“It sounds lovely.” You rested your head on his chest. “You know, you can still do that.”

“I know. I will.” Lambert began to trace shapes on your back as he stared at the ceiling. “I know I’m not the best at showing it, but I do…. I love you, bug. You mean a lot to me.”

“It’s okay. I love you too, Lambert.” You looked up to kiss him softly. “And I think it’s rather cute that our first time saying it to each other was in a crusty Velen inn.”

“It sure fits us.”

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#Lambert x reader #lambert x reader fluff #the witcher #Lambert the witcher #the witcher the wild hunt #the wild hunt #Netflix #kacey answers

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