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turtle-go-brrrr · 3 years

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Scratch my shell, I scratch yours

A/N: Heya! So remember two posts ago where I said I wouldn't write fics because I'm not confident enough in my writing to post it? Yeah, me neither. I started writing this at 6 am because I couldn't sleep and kept working on it during the day, so enjoy ^^(I got a little tired at the end, and i think you can feel it ;w; hope it’s good enough anyway!)

Also, I’m a sucker for platonic intimacy, and there is a severe lack of platonic x reader in this fandom

Fun fact: the Shell is both the Dorsal (part on the back) AND the Plastron (part on the front).

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: None

Summary: You make an embarrassing suggestion that they surprisingly accept.

_____________________________________________________________

The idea came to you in a random conversation you had as you sat on their couch.

"But wait, you can really reach everywhere? Like if I touch here-", you point to a crevice in the middle of his shell. "You're telling me you can bend your arm enough to get here?"

Leonardo gently takes your wrist and pull your hand away. "I mean, we have some of those telescopic scrubs to help, you know? Or we can just ask each other to get to the hard places if it's really complicated."

Oh.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

You have been asking a few questions about their shells after Raphael started showing off some of his scars, fascinated by the intricate patterns you could see on your friends. The topic of cleaning has be brought up, and as your curiosity took charge, your brain decided to embarrass you as much as it could.

"Do you think I could help?"

Only the faint background music Mikey had set up earlier could be heard as your mutant friends looked at you, eyes wide open.

Oh, that came out wrong.

"Wait, that's not what I-", you start to explain your line of thoughts when you get interrupted by the smug look Mikey sent you, as he harbored a teasing smile.

"Oh? I didn't realize that's what you meant when you said you wanted to hang out more," he wiggles his eyebrows as your nervous laughter fills the room.

"Hold on, I can explain."

Silence again.

"Oh, you're actually listening?"

"I mean, I think we're all dying to know why on earth you'd want to take a shower with us. You're not usually this upfront with your affection," Donatello chimes in. He's not even looking at you in the eyes, but doesn't really try to hide that stupid smirk.

Bastard.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on not letting the embarassement take over, but your voice shakes imperceptibly, and you can feel youself start to sweat. Great.

"Okay, so I was thinking : you guys always do so much for the city and never get anything in return. I remember Mikey told me that you guys love shell scratches, and now I can see that you have some trouble cleaning it, so maybe I can help with that ? Kinda like a massage sort of thing, it doesn’t have to be weird if no one makes it. Now obviously we’ll be wearing swimsuits, we’re not close enough for… you know… actually taking a shower together, " you try clearing your throat discretly. You hear a muffled laugh from Raph.

"Anyway, I think Casey knows where to buy the best animal care product. I think human stuff might not be suitable for your shells, and I read somewhere that water was the best way to clean a turtle shell anyways, but if you have suggestions just let me know what you usually use. Do you even have swimsuits ? Doesn’t matter, I’m sure we can find you some-"

As you rambled on, the slight shame started to wear off and you were able to explain your line of thoughts more clearly. The awkwardness of the situation seemed to settle down, even if your friends were absolutely going to tease you about it later. Leonardo seemed hesitant, though.

"I don’t know, man. Are you sure about this ? I don’t want you to feel like you have to. We can take care of ourselves, you know."

"I’m not gonna force you if you don’t want to, I’m just offering because I want to do something nice for you guys. You can’t really take a break, but you could at least relax a bit."

"I’m up for it." You didn’t expect Raph to agree so quickly, but maybe you should have anticipatd that as you look at the bags under his eyes. "I mean, the worst thing that could happen is falling asleep while getting a massage from a friend. Kinda sounds like a dream if you ask me. "

‘Well that was easy,’ you think as your face lightens up.

"Besides, we can laugh at them for wanting to shower with us. Didn’t think you’d want to be so intimate, " he purrs as he gives you a side glance.

Oh. Bastard number two.

"Alright. Sure. You know what, fair game, " you laugh it off. Mikey puts a reassuring arm around your shoulders as Donnie places his legs on your laps.

"We do have swimwear, so you don’t need to worry about that. And you were right about using only water to clean it, as human products tends to make us itchy afterwards. There are some types of oil we use sometimes to nourish our shells, however. I think the only thing we might need to look into is new brushes. The ones we have are, hum, barely hanging on."

You send a quick text to Casey and April to let them know about the plan after making a short list of supplies with Leo, who ended up agreeing.

It didn’t take that much convincing.

____________________________

Saturday came fast. After getting all the necessary supplies with Casey, you both made your wait to the lair to join April. They had both agreed to help you in your task, because 'damn, they really need some appreciation'.

"When do you think they'll be back?" You ask Splinter as he offers you a cup of spiced tea.

"Usually around one in the morning, unless they were delayed."

Unless something went wrong.

But those dark thought quickly faded away as you heard the faint echo of Mikey's laughter as he recalled their night. Light chatter filled the room as they took off their gear and put away their weapons, and April hushed them to get changed and take a quick shower so they could get started and finally have some sort of a break.

You could see they were excited as they each went their own way, waiting for their turn to the shower.

When you live in the sewers and try to turn it into a living space, you have to do what you can with what you have. And sometimes, what you have is a large space that you can turn into a huge bathroom, with multiple showers and a large bathtub; but what you don't have is privacy. So big communal bathroom it is.

In this specific case, it's a good thing, because it means you can all chill together as you get to work on their shells. Once everyone was settled in, April motioned them to sit on some of the chairs you put up. She opens the bag Casey and you brought and starts getting the multiple brushes and bottle out.

"You have to understand that you guys are, uh, gigantic. So try to stay at our level, okay? And stay put, please. Anyway, here is what we've got for you: there are multiple brushes - one of each type for each of you - and some are harder than the others. Don't worry, we'll try not to scrub your shell off of you," she winks at that, and holds back a laugh at Raph's worried expression.

She continues. "We also found the oil Donnie told us about, and we bought multiple bottles. You'll have a stack for next time." She then gets one last bottle out that she puts aside.

"That one is for Splinter. To make his fur all soft and shiny," you butt in with an innocent smile. The old man deserves a treat too.

Casey laughs at that and says, "So, there's tree of us and four of you. Who is okay waiting for his turn?"

Silence.

After a solid minute, Leonardo sighs and volunteers to let his brothers enjoy a well deserved spoiling session. Mikey, instead of sitting on a chair like a normal person, choose instead to lay down on the bathroom floor.

"You said it was basically a massage, right? Now it really feels like it!"

"Oh, good idea. I'm this close to getting a pillow and having the nap of my life," Donnie says, putting his fingers together.

"Your fingers are touching."

"I know," he gives you a side smile as he starts to get up, but you quickly bring him back to reality. "But there's gonna be water everywhere?" You sit down next to where he just was and watch as he goes back to where he sat, sending you a disapproving side glance.

"Let a turtle dream, will you?" He lays down on his stomach, puts his head on his arms, and scouts closer to you.

You watch Raph get settled on a chair next to Casey, putting his arms on the backrest as April hands you one of the harder brushes. Leo makes a quick trip to the kitchen and brings back some water, a few snacks, and a copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne.

"Again," you start. "There's gonna be water everywhere. Are you sure bringing a book here is a good idea?"

He gives you a sly smile. "Gotta live up to my name."

What?

"What?"

"You know," Mikey interrupts. "Fearless."

"Oh. Right. Well, don't come crying when you drop it into a puddle then." But you offer him a plastic bag anyway, to hold his book with it in case he wets his hands.

"You sure you're okay waiting?" Casey asks him as he starts pouring water over Raph's back.

"Yeah, don't worry. I have things to keep me busy anyway."

______________________________

It took one swipe of the brush from April for Mikey to start... what was the word? Churring.

A low rumble coming from his throat that had kind of the same function as a cat's purr, Donnie explained. It was an expression of contentment or happiness, that sometimes even happended when they needed reassurance.

Adorable.

"I can't believe you guys can purr and never told me." Raph doesn't even bother opening his eyes when he answers you, "We knew you'd take advantage of that. Didn't want to be babied by the tiniest human we ever met."

Asshole.

You went back and forth with the gruff turtle, always in good spirit though. Conversations flowed, laughter were exchanged, and everyone managed to lighten up. Master Splinter joined the group at some point, and was just glad to spend some time with his family - all of it. He also started to take cared of Leo’s dorsal, to his delight.

You don't exactly know when, but some time after Donnie started to let go some soft churrs as you scrubbed the dirt off of his shell, you stopped listening to the current topic and started to really focus on your task.

Scrapping the dirt hidden in between every crevice, rubbing the largest scales, you were surprised by the look of the bare shell of your nerdy friend. You never really stopped to observe this particular feature the four brothers harbored, not only out of decency, but also because it was always covered. Gear and clothes, backpack and tech, dirt and blood, there was always something hiding the intricate patterns of their shells.

You unconsciously slowed down to really take in what you were seeing, your fascination and curiosity taking over your wish to help.

"I don't know why, but I never expected your shell to be so colorful," you say after wiping away the dirty water from the left side of his back. You didn’t mean to say it at loud, but he doesn't answer you. However, you do get something from Mikey.

"Man, you should see mine! Don helped me create an organic paint so I can paint my shell without hurting myself with a bunch of chemicals, and it looks sooo damn good-"

"Shh!"

"... Did they- Did you just shush me?"

"Shhh!" You whisper yell this time. You then give a side glance toward the sleeping turtle under you.

"Annw. Good luck waking him up."

"Yeah, I'm... not doing that. He needs his sleep," you laugh quietly.

______________________________

It took the three of you around an hour to deep clean their shells. Even Raph was finally letting go and softly churring at the end. Mikey was loud enough to have trouble speaking, and Donnie was still asleep. Splinter was still working meticulously on his son, who, he could tell, had a hard time holding back the content churrs that threatened to spill out.

You get up and strech, feeling your joints crack and already anticipating how sore you’ll be tomorrow. The muscles in your arms were burning, and you couldn’t feel your butt anymore, but it was worth it. You’ve never seen the four mutants so relaxed before.

Remembering the oils, you went toward the towels to dry your friend’s back and give the final touch to, what you’d grow to refer to, your work of art. You gave a few head scratches to Raph, who was dozing off with a lazy smile, and went back to Donatello. You slowly dried his dorsal when you felt him shift under your hands.

"Hey buddy," you speak softly. He whispers a ‘hey’ you can barrely hear.

"I’m almost done. I just have to put the oil, then you can let it dry and go to sleep, okay ? " You open the bottle and get a paintbrush, with which you start coating his shell with a thin layer of oil. You can hear his soft churrs start again.

Casey accidentally dropped the bottle of oil on Raph’s back and was desperatly trying to gather as much as he could. "Shi- Fuck, wait-"

"Here, give me some. Thanks to you, I don’t have to open mine, " April said with a smirk. She helped him clean up before going back to Mikey, who raised himself on his forearms and watched the scene unfold with a tired smile.

It took only around twenty minute to put the oil on their shells and get it almost dried up. Once it was done, you helped Splinter and Casey clean up as April let her dizzy friends hold onto her, guiding them on their way to their room. Once it was all done, you waved Leo good night as Raph ruffled your hair and went to sleep. Mikey gave you a big hug and thanked you for the ‘bonker idea’ and made you promise to do it again soon, which you agreed on.

April was already sleeping in the big armchair next to the couch, Casey in a sort of little nest of blankets and pillows at her feet. As you made your way to the couch – your makeshift bed for the night – Donnie was passed out cold on it already. And, boy, does he takes up a lot of space.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to see Splinter standing next to you. "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you borrowing his bed for the night. "

"I– are you sure ? "

"He stole yours. He’ll live. " A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he guided you to your friend’s room, offering you a spare blanket and pillow. "Have a good night, Y/N. You know where to find me if you need anything."

”Thank you, Master Splinter.” You can feel your eyelid close on their own, and decide to finally call it a night. You got settled as best you could in the bed, and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

A warm breakfast would await you in the morning.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #i was supposed to make headcanons about them getting their shell scratched #but my brain did this #took me at least 8h #idk if im 100% satisfied but hey #im really excited about posting it ^^#hope you liked it!

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hansolmates · 4 years

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jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation. pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write!

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.”

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach.

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason.

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs.

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy.

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache.

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud.

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long?

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?”

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly.

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong.

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon.

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook.

You scream.

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—”

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!”

“Well… is he at least cute?”

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!”

“Tasteful nudes.”

“I’m gonna die.”

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.”

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates.

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM.

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?”

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.”

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot.

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram.

Of course, he’s stupid hot.

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well.

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more.

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend.

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league.

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on.

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen.

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen.

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?”

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot.

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?”

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?”

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.”

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!”

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.”

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?”

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance.

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing.

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.”

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures.

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.”

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something.

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie.

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.”

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.”

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy.

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really.

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing.

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.”

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment.

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film.

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic.

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?”

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.”

“You think right.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair.

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?”

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.”

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier.

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot.

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud.

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes.

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container.

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?”

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display.

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?”

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.”

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation.

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.”

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking.

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.”

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.”

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.”

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize.

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.”

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.”

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?”

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.”

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.”

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you.

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down.

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks.

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts.

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed.

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ???

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird.

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture.

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today.

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring.

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.”

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.”

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.”

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?”

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.”

You choke on your saliva.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?”

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?”

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!”

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.”

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.”

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.”

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off.

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?”

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?”

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.”

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.”

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens.

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists.

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger.

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine.

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.”

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.”

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?”

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.”

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag.

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin.

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio.

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony.

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him.

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.”

“It was.”

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table.

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.”

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.”

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity.

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die.

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more.

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them.

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.”

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists.

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset.

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself.

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.”

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.”

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink.

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set.

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.”

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.”

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.”

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?”

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that.

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?”

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?”

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.”

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself.

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.”

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.”

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.”

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame.

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home.

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead.

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade.

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?”

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?”

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this.

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.”

#jungkook fic #btsghostiebingo #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Want of a Spider

Prompt: Just reread unwanted and God I forgot how good it was also if it was a book I would buy so many copies of it also could we get a oneshot of mabye a few years later after everything happened to see how the boys are doing I just want to see them happy together

Ah, yes, don’t we all?

Read on Ao3

(Un)Wanted Masterlist

Warnings: implied/referenced panic attacks, nothing too severe, shapeshifting

Pairings: LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR

Word Count: 6888

A child runs to a garden.

Five fae take the child as their own.

Slowly, the child grows into something new.

Set after the events of (Un)Wanted.

It starts slow.

Slow enough that at first, Virgil’s not even sure it’s happening. The garden is…weird, to put it mildly, and it’s not like living with a bunch of fae is going to give anyone a baseline for what’s normal.

He’s just finished baking a new batch of bread with Patton. Patton’s room smells amazing, the bread looks warm and soft and part of Virgil—a part that Roman and Janus have been slowly encouraging to speak up more—wants to grab it and rip a hunk off with his teeth, temperature be damned.

Part of him would rather not have a burned tongue for the rest of the day, thank you very much. Then he won’t be able to actually enjoy the rest of the bread, just the too-sore feeling of his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

…and part of him still doesn’t know how to eat properly. Or that it’s okay to want to eat.

Patton must catch that last thought buzzing around because he looks over with a frown, reaching out to pinch the offending buzzing thing out of the air and squash it, rubbing his fingertips together until it poofs and disintegrates. The accompanying bubble of relief works its way through Virgil’s chest.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, kiddo, that seemed like a nasty one.” Patton finishes drying his hands off and surveys their handiwork. “Well! That went well.”

Virgil snorts. “Ah, yes, I forget that throwing flour at whoever you’re baking with is always important.”

“Don’t you look at me, you started it!” Patton points his finger at him. “You’re the one who threw it at me first.”

Virgil blinks. “You bumped me while I was trying to measure it out.”

“I did.” Patton nods. “And then you bumped me back.”

“Yes. Bumped. I didn’t throw it at you.”

“You did, however, decide to wipe it off my face without getting the rest of it off your own.”

“Because you threw it at me!”

Patton throws his head back and laughs, which of course makes Virgil laugh too because have you not seen his face when he laughs you try keeping a straight face. The memory of the two of them absolutely covered in flour, barely any of it in the bowl where it was supposed to go, is enough to make him scrub his hands through his hair to make sure that yes, he did in fact get all of it out.

“Oh, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while,” Patton murmurs as their giggles slow, shaking his head and going for the plates, “but I think that’s given the bread enough time to cool off.”

“Does that mean we should call the others?”

“If you want to.”

Virgil closes his eyes and reaches, searching for the tether in his chest. It takes a few pokes and prods but eventually he feels something warm and pushes.

“Hello, yes, hi, I heard something about fresh bread?” Roman pops up first, giving Virgil a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t start without me!”

“Hey!”

Virgil giggles as Remus drops straight onto Roman, almost knocking them both to the ground. He hears an exasperated sigh behind him and turns, seeing Logan shake his head at the twins.

“You would think,” he mutters to Virgil, “the two of them would develop a little more sense of spatial awareness after the first…oh, ten times they’ve knocked things over.”

“I don’t think they’ve ever had to.”

“You’re right.” Logan shakes his head again and turns to Patton. “It smells delicious, you two, congratulations.”

“You haven’t tasted it yet,” Patton reminds, “we have to wait for—“

“Fuck.”

Virgil holds a hand to his chest as Janus chuckles, having appeared out of fucking nowhere just behind him as he turned to see where the snake was. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly as Janus rubs a circle between his shoulder blades.

“Sorry, little mouse,” Janus murmurs, just loud enough for him to hear, “I didn’t mean to startle you so badly.”

“It’s fine.” He leans into the touch for a moment longer. “I, uh, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Never, little mouse, you have my word.”

“Thanks.”

“Remus, I swear—“

“Just let me go and it’ll be fine!”

“Kiddos,” Patton scolds, all but prying the twins apart, “if you don’t stop fighting, there won’t be any bread left for you.”

Virgil has to stifle a chuckle at how fast the two of them break apart, sitting and folding their hands in their laps to patiently wait for their bread. Judging by the way Janus presses a little closer behind him, he knows what’s going to happen before Patton turns to him.

“Virgil? Would you like to do the honors?”

“Uh, sure.” Virgil takes the bread knife hesitantly and examines the loaf. It looks too pretty to cut…but it smells incredible. “How—uh, how much does everyone want?”

“If you let them,” Logan says wryly, “they’ll eat the whole loaf. Take what you want first.”

“Will not!”

“You, you absolutely will.”

“Hey!”

The knife hits the cutting board with a soft tap, the slice falling neatly onto the plate. Patton takes the knife when Virgil offers it, taking over the slicing as Virgil scoots around the edge of the counter to sit with his slice.

It looks so..perfect. And as he lifts it up and bites into it—

Yeah, he could eat this for the rest of his life and be happy.

Judging by the way the rest of them devour the loaf, they agree.

“You did wonderfully,” Logan murmurs amidst the smatterings of compliments, “this is delicious.”

“Thanks.”

“You must remind Patton to make this again with you, it tastes much better.”

When he doesn’t answer right away, Logan glances up, smiling when he catches sight of his red cheeks. Leaning closer, he places his chin on Virgil’s shoulder and turns to whisper:

“Don’t let Roman see that if you don’t want to blush any harder.”

Now that right there is a very good point. In an effort to hide it, he takes another bite of the bread, only to frown when something’s different.

Logan seems to notice and tilts his head. “Is there something wrong? Does it taste strange?”

Virgil opens and closes his mouth a few times. “It feels gummy.”

“Really?” Logan has another bit of his own. “It doesn’t taste that way to me, perhaps…?”

“Here, try mine.”

“…no, it still tastes the same. Have you had something to drink recently?”

“Not as recently as I probably should.” Before he can blink, Logan’s holding out a glass of water. “Oh. Thanks.”

“Let’s see if this helps.”

Well, the gumminess is no longer in his mouth. He’s not sure if he can still feel it in the back of his throat. He takes another bite of the bread—and oh fuck is it good—and it seems to go away.

“That might’ve been it.” But maybe it wasn’t.

“We’ll keep an eye on it, though,” Logan says easily as if he can see where Virgil’s mind wants to go, “let us know if it changes, okay?”

“I will.”

Which is why, later, when he’s sitting out by the lake to watch the moon ripple across the surface of the water, he feels it return and coughs, coughs, coughs until something flies out of his throat.

He frowns, bending down to stare at the thing glistening in the grass. He tilts his head.

What the fuck?

Something else is still in his throat. He coughs again, and more of it shoots out, sticking to the grass with a horrid sound.

Okay, nope. He’s not dealing with this by himself.

Remus? Remus, can you help me with something?

Sure. Gimme a sec and I’ll drop in. Are you okay?

Virgil takes another look at the glistening…thing on the grass.

I don’t know.

An instant later, the water bubbles and Remus rises up, propping himself up with his tentacles as he shakes the water off. Virgil throws his arms up to protect his face from the shower of droplets.

“Oh, oops.”

He waves a hand. “It’s fine, it’s just water.”

“…yeah.”

“Do I want to know what else was in that?”

“Probably not.”

Virgil sighs as Remus clambers up to sit next to him, leaning his head on his shoulder. Remus’s hand cards gently through his hair before prompting him to sit up.

“What’s the problem, little monster? How can I help?”

In response, Virgil points at the glistening mess on the grass In front of him. Remus leans forward, following Virgil’s finger, frowning until he spots the mess. His eyes widen.

“Whoa. I’ve never seen that before.”

Virgil’s heart sinks. If Remus has never seen it before…

“Where’d it come from?” Remus looks over his shoulder. “Was it Ollie? Uma? One of the others?”

Virgil shakes his head.

“Really? So Roman’s babies did that? Huh, I gotta tell him, he’s gonna get a kick outta that.”

“No.”

Remus frowns at the truly quiet noise Virgil makes. He nudges him gently. “No? No what, little monster?”

“It—“ Virgil swallows the gummy thing in his mouth— “it wasn’t Roman’s.”

Remus’s frown deepens. “Then what—“

His eyes go giant when Virgil coughs up another one. It lands on the grass with a splat.

“…oh.”

Virgil turns to him so fast he can feel his neck protesting. “Oh? Oh what, what does ‘oh’ mean?”

Remus smiles. He smiles so wide it makes Virgil’s face hurt by proxy. His eyes dart back and forth between Remus and the stuff on the ground.

“Remus, what?”

“You’re changing,” Remus says softly, still smiling as he reaches out to pull Virgil close, “you’re changing, Virgil, that’s it.”

Um, excuse me, no part of that is reassuring, thank you very much.

“What do you mean I’m ‘changing?’”

“You bonded to us, Virgil,” Remus continues, “you opened that connection.”

“Okay…?”

“That means—well, it means you’re no longer fully human, little monster.”

Wait, what?

He’s—

“You mean I’m part fae now?”

Remus nods. “You’re one of us, little monster, you’re ours. Which means that some of your magic—“

“I have magic?”

“Everything has magic, Virgil. But yeah, it means through that connection your magic’s starting to get a bit of its own shape.”

Virgil looks back down at the mess. It looks…well, it doesn’t look quite so scary anymore. In fact, as he looks at it, there are parts of it that he may actually be able to call…

…pretty.

“My own shape?”

“Jan-Jan looks like a snake, yeah?”

“Except he’s got six arms.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Yeah, that doesn’t make sense to me either. But Janny’s a snake, I’ve got tentacles, Logan runs a little colder than the rest of us, and Pat’s got an impressive sense of smell.”

“…what about Roman?”

“Roman’s magic just kinda…” Remus wiggles his fingers. “Does that. You’ve seen it.”

“Yeah…yeah, I’ve seen it.”

“He spoils you.”

“…he tries.”

Remus gives him another gentle nudge to show he understands. Then he nods to the grass.

“That’s probably the start of it, little monster.”

“Will it hurt?”

The shameful question bursts out before he can stop it and he winces, curling his arms tightly around himself. Remus just wraps his arms around him too, holding him close.

“I don’t know, Virgil.” He tightens his grip. “But I do know you won’t have to do this alone.”

The dark pit in his chest softens ever so slightly. He tucks his head under Remus’s.

“I know.”

He goes to Logan next. Knocks on his door and waits patiently—okay, maybe not that patiently—for Logan to open it and tilt his head.

“You needn’t do that, you can ask for me directly if you like,” he says after he’s welcomed Virgil inside.

“I know, I just…felt better doing that.”

“I understand.” Logan smiles and adjusts his glasses. “What can I help you with?”

“I, um…” He shifts his weight from side to side. “I found something.”

“Oh? What did you find?”

“Do you remember when I said the bread tasted gummy?” Logan nods. “Well, I, um, found out why.”

Logan’s eyes widen as Virgil holds out a dish with some of the stuff on it. He takes it slowly, adjusting his glasses again as he stares down at the glistening substance. His eyes dart from it to Virgil and back.

“Remus said I was changing,” Virgil offers, “because of the bond, and I just—I just wanted—“

He swallows.

“…wanted to know if it would hurt,” he finishes lamely.

Logan takes a deep breath and sets the dish aside, reaching for his notebook and flipping it open. He scribbles something down and looks up, a smile slowly forming on his face.

“I’m incredibly glad,” he says softly, “that the bond is holding and that you are staying.”

“Wait, there was a chance it wouldn’t work?”

“There was a chance it wouldn’t be formed at all,” Logan corrects, “not that it would fade once it was made.”

“So...?”

“So you’re one of us now, Virgil,” Logan says, holding up the dish, “this proves it.”

“What is that?”

Logan’s smile grows. “I’ve got no idea. Let’s go find out, shall we?”

He beckons Virgil closes, moving across his room to…an area with machines that Virgil has never seen before. He watches as Logan carefully separates a piece of the substance to place on the bed of…what looks like a giant box but what is probably so much more complicated.

“You can come closer if you like.”

He shakes himself, looking up to see Logan considering him curiously.

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.” Logan lets their shoulders brush together as he comes to join him. “This is one of my favorite tools.”

“What’s it called?”

“I call it the universal scanner, though I believe Roman calls it the Answer Box.”

“The what?”

“It answers most of the basic questions I can have about something, I suppose.”

“So he called it the Answer Box?”

“I don’t believe Roman’s ever claimed to be the best at naming things.”

Virgil snorts. “Then you were not there for the argument the two of them had over who was naming Oliver’s new adopted jellyfish.”

Logan shudders. “No, and I’m quite glad for that.”

The scanner begins to beep, little pulses of light going off around the stuff lying so innocuously in the middle. As it keeps going, something starts to twist in Virgil’s chest.

What if something’s wrong? What if this isn’t a sign of Virgil changing and it’s something dangerously wrong with him? What if he’s changing and it’s bad? What if they decide they don’t like him or he’s dangerous?

What if they realize the—

—the humans were right?

A rush of cool surges up his arm and he breathes, reaching out to take Logan’s hand and squeeze. Logan squeezes back, stepping a little closer and watching as the machine slows down. Across the room, one of Logan’s screens lights up. He gives Virgil’s hand one last squeeze before stepping away, going to look at the results.

“What does it say?”

“Chemical composition, tensile strength,” Logan murmurs, “as well as magical signature.”

“Magical signature?”

“Who it belongs to,” Logan clarifies, shooting him a smile over his shoulder, “you, Virgil.”

“I have a magical signature?”

“You do.”

He looks down at his hands, turning them over. “What does it look like?”

Logan thinks for a moment. “Do you remember the colors that your aura turns when the Claims are shown?” Virgil nods. “The colors are the various signatures.”

“So yours is…?”

“Dark blue, I believe. Roman’s is red, Remus’s is green. Patton’s is light blue.”

“Janus’s is yellow, I guess.”

“I believe he prefers ‘gold.’”

“He’s so pretentious,” Virgil mutters, “gold, honestly. Shut up, it’s fucking yellow.”

Logan chuckles. “You can tell him that if you’d like.”

“Maybe I will.”

“But to answer your question,” Logan continues, “your magical signature is your color.”

“…which is what?”

Logan looks at him strangely. “Do you not remember?”

“Remember?” Virgil shuffles nervously. “Remember what?”

“The day you were taken,” Logan says softly, sending a dark bolt through Virgil’s stomach, “and we brought you home, do you remember what happened in the garden?”

V jolts awake, flails desperately, against Roman, against Logan, against Patton.

“V, V, honey,” Patton tries, “you’re safe, honey, it’s just us, kiddo—“

“Virgil.”

Virgil breathes, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Logan sends another calming pulse into the air, calling his name quietly until he can look up.

“My apologies,” Logan murmurs, “I did not mean to do that.”

“It’s fine, you didn’t—“ he takes a breath— “you didn’t mean to.”

Logan accepts it with a nod. “I merely meant that your aura was particularly strong that day,” he says quietly, “and perhaps you remembered it. But you did not, and that’s okay.”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Virgil, it’s alright, there’s no need to apologize.”

He blinks, looking back at the bed of the scanner. “So what is it?”

“Simply put? It’s a web.”

Virgil blinks, longer this time. “A what?”

“A web, Virgil,” Logan repeats, “your web.”

A web, that means—that means that Virgil—he’s—

“So what am I going to be?”

“I believe…” Logan turns the screen to face him. Virgil’s eyes widen.

“A spider?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“But—“

Logan raises an eyebrow when Virgil cuts himself off abruptly, all but clapping a hand over his mouth.

“But,” he prompts softly, “but what?”

“…nothing.”

He tilts his head.

“It’s fine.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I just…” well, the more he thinks about it, the stupider it sounds. He’s trying really hard to not say it out loud, but…

“You can tell me,” Logan says softly, “I won’t be upset.”

“…but no one likes spiders,” he whispers, shame burning the inside of his throat where he can feel another web forming.

Logan is quiet for a moment. Then—

“Come here.”

Virgil’s head jerks up. “What?”

Logan holds out his arm. “Come here, little one.”

And Logan looks so sincere that he can’t help it, ducking under his arm and letting him gather him close to his chest. Logan hums gently, tucking Virgil’s head under his chin and holding him tight.

“We like you, little one,” he murmurs, “and everyone else can leave you alone.”

“…really?”

“Yes, really,” Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “you’re wonderful, little one.”

And Virgil opens his mouth to say something equally nice like ‘I like you too’ or even just ‘thank you,’ but nope, instead he has to cough out a web like a rude person.

Luckily, Logan just chuckles again and gives him a gentle squeeze. “I must say, I’m curious about how that works. Would you mind if I helped you figure it out?”

“Please.”

So that’s how he ends up spending a lot of time with Logan, figuring out how much web he can shoot, how to do it on command so it’s not happening all the time, how to hold onto some of it so he can pull stuff towards him like a frog—apparently Patton gets a kick out of that when he tells him—and how to make sure it’s not constantly living in the back of his throat. It’s a fucking blast, actually, and he definitely uses it when Logan gets into an argument with Remus to ‘accidentally’ cough a web into his face. It’s priceless.

That doesn’t mean it’s all good stuff, though.

He wakes up one night with his room covered in webs, sticking to every single available surface, tying him up so he can barely move. His mouth runs dry, his throat aches. He blinks a few times and can’t get the gummy feeling to go away.

Patton, Patton I—I—

Virgil? Kiddo, can I come to you?

Help me—

“Hey, hey,” he hears not a moment later, right next to his head, “hey, kiddo, shh, you’re okay, I’m right here.”

“P-Pat?”

“Yeah, honey.” Patton waves his hand and a little glow appears in the corner of the room. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Virgil breathes, wincing when he feels the strands of the webs again. Patton makes a sympathetic noise.

“Do you want me to get rid of them?” At Virgil’s insistent nod, he waves his hand again and they vanish. “They’re gone now, kiddo, it’s okay. Can you sit up for me?”

Patton wraps his arms tightly around him and holds him close, warm, warm, warm, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay, nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

Another kiss. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I think—“ Virgil swallows— “I think that’s why the webs came out.”

Patton nods. “I can see they trapped a lot of it for you.”

Virgil blinks. “Wait, what?”

“The little buzzing things, the ones that love to fly around you.” He tips Virgil’s head to cup his cheeks, brushing his thumb along the curve of his face. “The ones I can dust off for you?”

“What about them?”

Patton nods toward the rest of the room. “Your webs were trapping most of them, kiddo, making it so you weren’t as badly affected.”

“O-oh.” He swallows again. “But I—I didn’t like it.”

“Making them when you weren’t in control?” Virgil nods. “I can understand that, it must’ve been scary to wake up with a room full of webs.”

Virgil nods again, shifting a little closer to Patton. Wait—

“If the webs were holding them,” he starts, “then why…why aren’t they coming back?”

Patton chuckles. “They know better than to try and touch you when I’m here.”

Virgil hums, burrowing into Patton’s chest and letting him idly flick away the few that dare get close. And yeah, that…that makes sense, but he would rather not be coughing up webs while he’s unconscious. For one, his throat still hurts.

Patton just gently lays his hand against Virgil’s neck and strokes, once, twice, three times, encouraging him to swallow. He does, sighing at the rush of warmth that comes with it.

“Good,” Patton murmurs, “do you want help to make the webs before you go back to sleep?”

“Help to make them?”

“We can set up a little bubble so they get caught, and so you won’t have to do it asleep.”

“You—you’d help me?”

Something flashes behind Patton’s eyes for a moment before it’s replaced by a soft smile. “Of course, sweetheart, I’ll always help you.”

Virgil shifts a bit closer. “Can we stay like this for a little longer first?”

“Of course, kiddo, you come here.”

The webs help. A little. It takes some getting used to, and there’s definitely still times when he wakes up and his throat is all gummy from nightmares, but it does help.

Then, of course, there are the new legs.

Virgil’s eyes shoot open as something cracks. He floats, unaware of what’s happening, as cracks continue to shake the floor of the room. His head rolls to the side. What’s happening? Why can’t he feel anything? There’s just this white-hot tinge to the corners of his vision, almost as if he’s springing up out of his body, what—

—no.

No, no, no, he made it out.

He was free, they were going to keep him safe, how—

He gasps.

Pain floods his senses, turning his blood white and his mouth opens in a silent scream. His jaw aches after the first few seconds and it aches, it truly does, and as his head lolls to the side all he can think about is how the wood at the bottom of the door doesn’t quite reach the floor.

A golden thread inside of him snaps taut and yanks.

“Virgil? Virgil!”

“J?”

“Yes, little mouse, it’s me,” Janus’s voice calls from somewhere above him, “I’m right here, darling, tell me what’s wrong.”

“It—it hurts, I—“

“Shh, shh—oh, darling.” A gloved hand touches his cheek to catch the tears. “Oh, little mouse, tell me what’s so awful, what’s hurting you?”

Another sharp crack rings out and Janus makes a noise.

“Virgil, you’re going to have to roll over.”

Moving of any sort feels like the actual worst, thank you very much.

“They’re trying to come out of your back, darling, any pressure on them is going to make it worse.”

Blinking through the haze of white, Virgil manages to stare up at Janus. He watches his mouth thin to a hard line.

“Come on, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, gently tucking his hand under Virgil’s cheek, “roll toward me, I’ll catch you, but you have to get off your back.”

At the gentle urging of the thread, Virgil closes his eyes and rolls.

“Good,” Janus soothes, cradling him as they lie down on the floor, “good job, darling, I’ve got you, little mouse, it’s alright.”

“What’s—what’s happening?”

“You’re changing, sweetie.” Janus rubs a circle into his lower back, away from the pain, “that’s all it is. Shh, shh, I know it hurts, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

“Make it stop,” he whines, burying his face shamelessly into the crook of Janus’s neck, “it hurts.”

“I know, sweetie, I know. You’re doing so well, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m right here.”

Janus wraps his arms around him carefully, avoiding the center of his back. One hand cups the back of his neck, another ruffling through his hair. Two stroke down his shoulders, trying to get the muscles to relax. The last pair sling around his hips and hold him close.

“I know it hurts, sweetie,” Janus whispers, “but you have to try and relax. Tensing up will only make it hurt more.”

“I can’t—“

“You can, sweetie, they’re almost out, it’s okay.” He tips his head to press a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “You’re doing much better than I did when my arms were first growing in.”

“R-really?”

“Yes, sweetie, really…oh, easy, little mouse, shh, just focus on me…”

Virgil clings onto him as his back keeps cracking, over and over. Janus is right, though, holding onto him makes it a little easier, especially when he reaches a hand up to brush the tears away.

“I’ve got you, Virgil,” he promises, “it’s almost over, you’re doing so well, just a little more, now, stay here with me…”

“I want it to stop, it fucking hurts.”

“I know, little mouse, I know.”

“Don’t think—“ Virgil gasps against his neck as another crack rings out, quieter this time, though— “don’t think that works anymore.”

“You’ll always be my little mouse,” Janus whispers, “but you can also be my little spider.”

Virgil blinks. His back still aches, but…the blinding white pain is gone. He tries to stretch—

—and freezes when new things respond in ways that do not make sense.

“Jan?”

“You’ve got new limbs, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, giving his hair a ruffle, “can you try and move them for me?”

Oh, he was not meant to have these muscles in these places. Still, he manages to figure out which ones he’s supposed to flex only for another jolt of pain to shoot through them.

“Shh, shh,” Janus shushes when he winces, “I know it hurts, but you’ve got to start building up a range of motion now, otherwise they’ll get sore and stuck very quickly.”

Virgil grits his teeth and bears it, listening to Janus’s gentle instructions on how to bend, unbend, and rotate the—four?—four new limbs coming from the center of his back. He definitely sheds a few more tears into the collar of Janus’s shirt, but by the time Janus rubs the back of his neck and tells him he’s all done, for now, his back does feel a little better.

“You did so well, sweetie, I’m so proud of you.”

“Can I never do that again?”

Janus chuckles. “Absolutely, little spider.”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Janus’s eyes widen as a brilliant blush starts to bloom over Virgil’s cheeks. “Well.”

“No.”

“But it’s been so long since I have seen you so flustered, little spider,” he purrs, gently knuckling the side of Virgil’s face, ��can you blame me?”

“Stoppit.”

“Oh, darling, is it truly still so easy?”

“Well, it’s easy once I’m already here!”

“Mm.”

Virgil does not squeak, thank you very much, as Janus sits up and pulls him fully into his lap.

“And where is here, little spider,” he hums, bringing one hand up to cup his chin, “right…here?”

Well, there go Virgil’s speaking abilities.

Janus chuckles, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “It’s certainly been a while since I’ve seen you speechless, darling.”

Virgil just mumbles and throws his arms around him.

“Oh, it’s okay, little spider,” Janus murmurs, softer this time, “I’m done now, you have my word.”

“Mean.”

“Yes, yes, I know, I’ve been very rude to you.” Another kiss on his cheek. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

“How?”

As an answer, he feels hands begin to rub gently at the muscles in his back, encouraging the last bit of cramps loose. An exhale tears itself out of his chest as he sags forward.

“Good,” comes the soft whisper, “good, little spider, just relax, I’ve got you.”

Virgil mumbles, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. “Hurts.”

“Still?” At his nods, Janus makes a noise of sympathy and redoubles his efforts. “It’s okay, little spider, I’ve got you, you’re here with me.”

Something dark shifts in his stomach again. He tucks his head firmly under Janus’s chin and takes a shaky breath.

“What is it, darling?”

“When I woke up,” he mumbles, “thought it was—that I—“

He swallows.

“…wasn’t sure if I was…back or not.”

Janus stills. The dark thing in the pit of Virgil’s stomach snaps.

“You are here,” Janus says, a growl tinging the edge of his voice, “you are here, with me, and you are safe.”

Arms wrap tightly around him.

“None of them will touch you again,” he promises, “I have you. I have you, little spider, you’re safe.”

Virgil just sits there, basking in the warm, golden glow, as Janus wraps the threads of Reality around them.

“Keep me?”

“I’ll keep you, little spider, I’ll always keep you.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

One last kiss pressed to his forehead. “Always.”

The limbs are…interesting. The first time Janus takes him to the mirror to see them, Virgil almost runs away.

They look like spider legs, all segmented and hairy, but they’re a little too…purple to be just normal spider’s legs. Janus walks him carefully through how to stretch them, how to use them, how to turn them this way and that until it feels a little more like Virgil’s supposed to have them. He doesn’t seem to have to build up their strength as he would a new arm or leg—well, a humanoid arm or leg—but figuring out how to use them takes…a little longer than he’d like.

And he never quite gets over how…wrong it looks.

Freak.

He does his best to hide it. It’s not like it isn’t expected, people don’t normally spontaneously grow limbs like, partway through their life anyway, let alone spider legs, so an adjustment period is expected, but…

Freak.

All things considered, he thinks he’s doing pretty well. He hasn’t lied to anyone—not that he really could—and no one’s asked him flat-out if he feels like they’re awful or anything, but…

Freak.

Then he makes his way back to his room as the sun sets one day and Roman is there, leaning up against the side of the house, waiting for him.

He looks up and smiles, waving to Virgil and beckoning him closer. Virgil goes, valiantly suppressing the shudder at how fucking warm Roman is as a hand comes up to cup his cheek.

Judging by the smile on his face, it’s not successful, but hey, he tried.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Roman murmurs, “can we talk for a moment?”

Virgil nods.

“Thank you, sweetheart, do you want to go inside, or…?”

“Sure.”

Roman lets Virgil lead him inside and pull him to sit down on the bed. He reaches out to push Virgil’s hair away from his face.

“Do you know why I’m here, sweetheart?”

When Virgil shakes his head, he scoots a little closer and rests his hand flat against his back, just below where the legs come out.

“…oh.”

Roman nods, rubbing little circles. “What’s troubling you, little honeybee?”

Virgil huffs, gesturing over his shoulder. “Don’t think that works anymore.”

“Mm, Janus said you’d say that,” he murmurs, shifting a little closer and lifting Virgil’s chin, “talk to me, sweetheart.”

Virgil shuts his eyes. A web crawls up into the back of his throat and he swallows it down, willing the buzzing things to stay away, held at bay only by the web still in his throat and the insistence that everything is going to be fine.

“…freak,” he mumbles eventually, much to Roman’s surprise, “they called me a freak.”

Roman’s hand stills on his back.

“I jus’—“ fuck, why is he crying?—“I jus’—they made sense, and I—“

“Don’t, sweetheart,” Roman says quietly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Virgil’s, “don’t do that to yourself.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he lets Roman pull him closer, fighting down the urge to sob.

“Yes, that’s it, come here—come sit with me—there,” he murmurs, sitting Virgil in his lap, “you’re not a freak, Virgil.”

He huffs. “Easy for you to say.”

Roman pulls back, frowning. “Why?”

Fuck. Well, now’s he got to explain himself.

“Um—“ and great, Roman’s not even doing anything and he’s bright red— “you don’t have any of—“ he waves to the spider legs— “you look like a normal human.”

He hesitates.

“…and you’re really pretty.”

Roman blinks. His lips part and his breath leaves him in a rush. Virgil winces.

“Sweetheart, do you think you don’t have value if you’re not pretty?”

“I mean…”

“No,” Roman growls, sitting up a little straighter and cupping V’s face in his hands, “no, Virgil, pretty isn’t some kind of rent you pay to exist in the world. You don’t owe anyone that, sweetheart.”

Virgil’s eyes widen as Roman holds him tightly.

“You have more to offer than just your outward appearance,” he says firmly, “so much more.”

“But I—I’m not—“ Virgil swallows. “I can’t do anything.”

“What do you mean you can’t do anything, sweetheart?”

“You guys, you can all—“ he waves his hands—“do things. I can’t. I’m just…here.”

“Oh,” Roman breathes as his face truly falls, “oh, little honeybee, you don’t have to be useful to be wanted.”

Wait.

What?

Virgil doesn’t—he doesn’t have to—

“What?”

Roman nods, pulling him closer still, “you don’t, sweetheart, we want you. We will always want you. You don’t have to do anything to earn it.”

Oh.

“You’re mine, little honeybee, as long as you want to be,” he murmurs quietly, “you don’t need to do anything to earn my trust or affection. It’s yours.”

Well, now Virgil feels stupid. The spider legs twitch unhappily over his shoulder. Roman catches it.

“Still not used to them yet, I see,” he murmurs, “that’s alright. I’m not trying to tell you you’re not allowed to feel upset, sweetheart, I promise.”

“I know.”

“Can I help,” he asks softly, “can I help you see they’re nothing to be ashamed of?”

“How?”

“Has anyone touched them yet,” Roman asks, “other than to help you learn how to use them?”

He shakes his head.

“May I touch you, sweetheart?” Virgil nods and Roman smiles. “Thank you. Now, come here—yes, that’s it—“

Virgil leans right up against Roman’s chest, letting him curl his arms around to scratch gently, gently at the very center of the four legs. It sends a jolt through him, every nerve buzzing.

“You don’t have to think right now,” Roman hushes when Virgil can’t find the words to say exactly how much this means, “not if you don’t want. You can just sit and feel, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Warm. Warm hands rubbing firmly up the limbs as Virgil’s frantic thoughts grind slowly to a halt. Then Roman’s hands find a spot just below the third segment and he groans, low and dark.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Roman soothes, squeezing just enough to rewire more of Virgil’s brain, “I’m right here, little honeybee, I’ve got you.”

It’s so much. It’s so much and every single hair on Virgil’s body stands. He hears Roman chuckle from far, far away and all he can do is whine. Roman shushes him, calling him ‘noisy’ in the most affectionate voice but it’s so much.

And yet, it feels like something’s missing. Like there’s an extra joint that isn’t quite sitting right yet, like there’s a layer in between the spider legs and his back. Roman keeps touching him, holding him close, but it’s not right.

“Roman,” he manages, just as Roman’s fingers slide around the base joint, “Roman—“

“Yes, little honeybee?”

“Magic.”

Roman stills and Virgil tries not to whine at the loss. “What?”

“Use your magic,” he says again, trying to clear his head enough to ask properly, “it feels—I can’t—they’re not mine yet.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “And you think that if I use my magic, it will help?”

“Please?”

“You don’t have to beg, sweetheart, you know I can’t ever say no to you.” Roman ruffles his hair. “But you know the rules, sweetheart.”

Virgil nods and sits up, leaning away to look at Roman properly. “If it’s too much or it feels like it wants me to want, I tell you and we stop.”

“And…?”

“And if I don’t like something.”

“Good.” Roman takes a deep breath. “Alright.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, little honeybee.”

“…still don’t think that works anymore.”

“Mm.” Roman tilts his head.

Virgil shifts as a smirk crawls over his face.

“Janus told me something else, you know,” he says softly as he reaches to coax Virgil back into his lap.

“…what?”

Red sparks curl up from his fingers. Virgil closes his eyes, waiting for the hand to land on his back or the legs again, only for them to fly opened, startled when Roman cups his chin.

“Wha—“

Oh.

Oh, no—Roman’s eyes darken a little, the sparks fizzing on the soft spot under his chin. He tilts his head to the side and leans closer.

“Hello, little spider.”

Virgil will deny the squeak he makes until the end of time. Roman chuckles and runs his finger lazily across Virgil’s jaw. The magic trails after him.

“Pretty little spider,” he coos, voice slipping back into that light, sweet, gentle thing that wriggles straight into Virgil’s chest, “blushy little spider.”

“R-Roman!”

“Hmm?” The finger swipes along the other side of his jaw. “What is it, little spider?”

All that comes out is a keen.

“You asked for this, little spider,” Roman reminds, tapping the tip of Virgil’s nose, “you asked for the magic.”

“The magic, not the flirting!”

“Oh, the flirting’s for me, little spider,” he coos, “just for fun. You’re so lovely, I can’t help it.”

“Mmm!”

“Is this not what you wanted, little spider?” When Virgil can’t say anything, Roman chuckles but lifts his fingers away to let him catch his breath. “What do you want, little spider?”

“You know what I want.”

“I do,” he says softly, “but I need you to say it for me. I don’t want to do anything without your consent.”

“…will you touch my legs, please?”

Roman smiles, running his finger up Virgil’s neck, up under his chin, lifting to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Good, little spider,” he whispers, reaching around to leave a small trail down the middle of Virgil’s back, shushing the light whine, “just relax, now, I’ve got you.”

Virgil melts, all but collapsing into Roman as his magic trails lightly up and down the legs, over his back, sometimes fizzling into his hair as he kisses Virgil’s head. His legs start to move of their own accord, pushing up into Roman’s hands as he rocks them slowly back and forth.

“Are you falling asleep, little spider? Does that feel good?” He feels Roman smile against his forehead. “You can sleep, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

The last of Roman’s magic fizzles away but his hands stay, rubbing, stroking, petting up and down, up and down. Roman’s so warm.

“Just rest, little spider,” Roman hushes, “you’re alright now, shh…”

He falls asleep to moonlight streaming in through the window, his head pillowed on Roman’s chest.

Somewhere, a purple thread winds itself into a braid next to a red thread, a green thread, a light blue thread, a dark blue thread, and a yellow thread.

‘Golden.’

He’s so pretentious, it’s fine.

Virgil’s home.

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @crows-ace @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx @rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734 @triflingassailantofmyemotions

(Un)Wanted Taglist: @deafeningdeppresedvoidthing@myrandomfandoms12 @i-love-books-and-so-do-you @homodetector @cohesiveanxiety @extrageekytrashofthething @beyondthestacks @lizzy-lineart @imknittingahat @twilight--trix @/nofurtherquestions-smirk @ray-does-stuff @lunatatic @our-bloody-mari666 @what-aboutno

If you want to be added/taken off/switched taglists, let me know!

#sanders sides #dragonbabbles #fic #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #fae

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hellyeahheroes · 3 years

Text

Robin(2021) #1 Review

Opening this comic with an assessment of a character that I have no choice but to agree with is a cheap way to score points with me.

Anyways, we caught heat for being unfair to this story since it was announced because all of us wanted it to be a Cass story since forever. And it became yet another thing Damian absorbs. I mostly ignored it because I’ve always been open about my disdain for the character and his fandom for nearly a decade. I never liked Damian because put these characteristics on a non-white passing character, they’d be dead inside of year. Then again I hate almost all of Grant Morrison monstrosities.

Regardless, new story who dis is in full effect here. We open this bad boy up with Damian gone missing and the Batfamily searching for him. Nightwing tried asking Damian’s old Teen Titans team and they obviously don’t know and probably hope Damian is dead. Tim checked Arkham Ruins(???) and Damian wasn’t there. I honestly don’t think Tim was trying to find Damian. Steph and Cass checked Damian’s farm and Steph concluded Damian has been there at least because while Damian may be a little shit, he loves his dog and pet bat dragon. Barbara checked facial recognition pings and his transactions and dude is an IRS nightmare.

Damian is missing. Bruce is worried that maybe making a violent murderous preteen Robin raised in a cabal of killers to be chief murderer was a bad idea and is worried. Barbara ensures him that they will find his son and we cut to Damian fighting Snake guy in some musty ass fight put somewhere. Because of course it’s a musty ass fight pit because while the story is well drawn, it never claimed to be not cliche.

Damian hands the scrub his ass and it turns out Damian is trying to earn a marker to participate in some tournament. I liked this panel.

Not because of the artist flex of changing the art style, but it establishes Damian with a relatable hobby, reading manga. And not just a Shounen as you expect him to read but a slice of life manga which kind of puts his life in perspective. Also the lesson in the manga is reflective of what happens in the comic. Damian’s mastery is reflective of how he sees Hana. Hana decides to go beyond what her masters taught her. She decides to innovate and make her art her own. And that’s indicative of another flaw of Damian: Damian leans of the prestige of his teachers. He is the student that replicates the style 1:1. He wants to inherit Batman’s mantle, but doesn’t want to shed his teachings that he is proud of. And it comes down to this idea that Damian refuses to innovate and adapt because he is hiding behind his masters.

This panel saved the story so good job.

And after a talk with dead Alfred, it’s revealed that Damian is on this journey as a way to mirror Bruce’s journey into becoming Batman. It’s his way to iron his resolve without a catalyst to find a need to. It highlights his naïveté. He thinks that he can just simply copy the steps and get the same results.

Regardless what happens next simultaneously undermines the story or the impact of it.

Okay, when you think of Martial artists in DC, you immediately think Batman, Shiva, Deathstroke, Black Canary, Bronze Tiger, Richard Dragon, and Shiva. Why I said Shiva twice? Because Shiva is the pinnacle.

So to reveal that three premier martial artists in the universe are not only not participating but they were paid off to not participate, cheated out, or were subbed in as an entry replacement, it undermines the promotion. It’s like going to a Beyonce Concert only to find out that between the words in small print Beyonce and Concert was ‘s Sister’s and now you are watching Grammy award winning Solange. Sure, it’s an unique experience but it ain’t Beyonce.

And also, there is no amount in the world that would keep Shiva away from this tournament if it’s as prestigious as it’s led to be. Let’s be real. If anything, it’s far more likely that she saw the roster of scrubs and decided to make some scratch.

There are two characters that I recognize: Connor Hawke and Rose Wilson. I am not familiar with Connor so I am not sure if he is out of place. Rose is fine but y’know, scrub. I’m sorry Rose Wilson got her ass handed to her by Cass in the previous universe. There is no universe where I take her seriously in a fighting tournament to crown greatest fighter because the ass stomp was so thorough that Cass was beating Slade’s ego by proxy.

Back to the comic, Damian interrupts the host and basically is the fighting tournament trope of overly confident disrespectful guy with too many accolades which he will proudly tell you about them. What I like about this is the nice nod to the previous manga panel. Damian is not a great fighter. There I said it. Damian’s ability hinges on the idea that he was trained by the greatest killers and Batman but the issue is that name prestige doesn’t make great fighters. Too many times, comic books overly rely on this idea of fighting being a what you know and not being a game of not getting hit and getting hits in. It does not matter if Damian is trained by the League and Batman and it’s questionable as to how much Batman taught him in the first place. Hence why we see Damian with a sword or staff to compliment his lack of range. Damian can’t read muscle twitches like a Cass or Shiva so he has a normal reactive response and comics never highlighted his ability. The most impressive thing I’ve seen Damian do is catch a Batarang which is something I’ve seen Tim do. Damian overly relies on the idea that his teachers taught him to be the best when they simply taught him to survive in a fight.

“But why does Cass get away with it?,” you ask. Cass has this broken hax that is reading muscle twitch and immediately knowing the instant of what you are going to do before you do it or decide to do. Cass doesn’t need range because to her, you are screaming your intentions. She doesn’t need to block an attack when she can just parry. She doesn’t need to step back when she can just step forward while slipping all attacks. She is an autistic savant at fighting with an absolute defense. Damian is just another badass teen in a world of badass adults.

And the humbling of Damian begins...again.

Pros:

-Damian’s new costume. I like that he is branching out and starting to own his own colors. It’s nice.

-Using a character flaw to make it a theme. I like Chekhov’s gun via teachable moment. In tournament arcs, what separates the good ones and the bad ones is the idea that the hero simply must overcome their opponents and not their own self. This is why Yuyu Hakusho is awesome.

- Great art and nice continuity. It’s nice that Damian’s past wasn’t ignored for once and they didn’t just throw his Teen Titans characterization down the tubes. Say what you want, but it was arguably Damian’s longest run in spite of his fans hating it. And contrary to what they believe, it was very much in character for him. My fear going into this that Damian would not face any fallout and lo and behold he ran away.

- it’s a good start for a Damian story. Say what you want, but it’s unique in that the little shit gets his comeuppance immediately. And not that just by losing, but by dying. Damian has killed before and readily justifies it because he never realizes the weight of taking someone’s life. He’s been killed before but those were painted in a way that he is valiant. Here, this is death caused by his own arrogance. He mocks a fighter for talking shit and gets murked while talking shit. He spouts names of his own teachers and expects people to care or be weary as if Rose Wilson and Connor aren’t there. It’s a tournament sponsored by the League of Assassins, Damian. They have been taught by the league too.

Cons:

-Look I get promotion. No promoter is going to undermine their product but the fact that this tournament reeks like ABA is killing my interest to give a shit. It’s a convenient caveat to say that, “Well, a character won this so they can have the title but the title doesn’t mean anything.” I know of regardless of whom wins this, they aren’t the best. Go ham or don’t at all.

-not enough emphasis of the importance of this arc. Why even have this tournament? What’s the prize? What’s even the point?

-While the art is nice, the action is framed poorly. I like physical action like this to be nearly choreographed in a way I can see and piece movement in my head. The two fight scenes we get are somewhat disjointed in that it’s just poses. For example, Flatline’s first kick makes no sense at all and I don’t get her follow up. Trying to picture the movement hurts my head and in an action concept like this, it’s best to frame action scenes as more than doing poses. Here is a good example:

This only emphasizes the action and gets the reader to acknowledge that this a tournament of great fighters or at least a great fighting story.

All in all, do I think this story is off to a good start? Yes. Is it going to change my opinion on Damian? Hell no. My reaction to Damian getting his ass handed to him was this.

The issue is that it never sticks. Damian can learn and be a better person but the development never sticks. It becomes a cyclical series of events because whoever writes him next will just keep writing him as this shitty entitled murder rich kid who never learns anything and gets validated somehow. It’s been over a decade and I’m tired of the same excuses of his shitty behavior. I am tired of writers validating it or excusing it.

Damian losing isn’t an outcome I care for because it’s wasted on him. Honestly I am more interested in Connor and Rose being there. I have no faith that it will stick nor does it undo the shitty idea of the character. I have never wanted to see Damian fight. It’s never been fun to read about nor has the impetus of his character emphasized the ability or style. Placing Damian in an Enter the Dragon style tournament lacks the pizzazz of Cass doing the same thing. For example, let’s try Marvel.

Let’s say someone pitches an idea of a tournament arc styled after Game of Death. Immediately you think Martial Artists non-powered. Danny Rand, Daredevil, Elektra, Shang-Chi, Pei and Colleen Wing. Okay, instead of giving those characters the honor, you give the story to Black Cat. Honestly, I’d read it because Felicia could sell me a documentary on grass and I’d buy it but the point stands, why does Damian have this Bruce Lee inspired Martial Arts story versus the actual Chinese or East Asian Martial Arts focused member of the Batfamily, Cassandra Cain?

But this has nothing to do with what could have been. It’s a fun beginning of a possibly fun arc. In that regard, it delivers but what’s the point?

Like I said, fun story.

@ubernegro

#dc #robin #damian wayne #batman and robin #batman #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #batgirl #barbara gordon #oracle #dick grayson #batfamily

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weepinglevi · 3 years

Note

whos your favorite fic writer/moots and why? Got any recommendations?

first off: pls know that if you're not listed here it doesn't mean i don't like you or your work, it simply means that i have a pea sized brain. love all of u. keep on writing. i really don't want anyone to feel bad (ask nia, i've been crying to her about it).

secondly: i'm not referring to them as my "favourite" cos i can't pick favourites, never really could. maybe that's why i'm simping for so many aot men at once ahaha.

and last but not least: this is going to be a long post so i'mma do all of us the favour and put it under the cut. i feel very soft today and have been listening to the titanic soundtrack for the better half of my day. bear with me, i'mma shower you with love. go check them out!

CHECK THE DNI TAGS ON THESE BLOGS BEFORE READING OR FOLLOWING, PLEASE!

this is in no particular order.

@kojinnie: my queen of angst. the other half of the princess-duo (i came to the conclusion that we're both princesses, we deserve to hang around in pretty dresses and have the time of our lives). especially dream me home still haunts my dreams. i love how you captured the pain and fear both of them feel. and i kind of view it as the start of our friendship, what with both of us writing about the mission to retake wall maria and you jumping into my dms after the fact. love you, kojin, and i only wish you the best.

@starrynightlys: shield-maiden claire. beautiful, talented, funny claire. i love you and i am so happy to have found you here, i really am. i know i've told you this multiple times but whenever i see you on my dash - either fighting off the floch anon or you posting memes, there's a big fat grin on my face. apart from your absolutely mesmerising presence, there's also one work in particular i always come back to: the beginning of forever. you are my source of happy levi content. when the world turns dark and i want him to be happy, i turn to this fic and to your blog in general. love you and i am dreaming of us listening to some good music in a park sometime soon!

@snkslush: luv! my first tumblr wife! this alone has gotten you a very special place in my heart ahah. i love the energy you have - whenever i see you on my dash i feel happy and it's because of how you interact with others. it's like i've known you since forever because of how easily i can talk to you. and reading your filthy thoughts about connie has set off my connie brainrot more than once ahaha.

your headcanons on how the aot boys react when their s/o tells them they want to be railed and also the follow-up still has me drooling. fucking love them. so accurate as well and i'm a slut for everyone ahha

@aotwrites: my lil sunflower. lil sis, you have no idea how happy you truly make me. i love the lil talks we have and i still remember the message you sent me when you were half-asleep, i always giggle when reading it ahah. just know that if you ever want, you can come up to me and ask me weird stuff lil sisters normally ask their bigger sisters. not that i have any good advice to give, but i have a lot of reaction pics to send!

it's very hard for me to pick out one of your fics to recommend - like i said, i have a problem with choosing favourites. but if i absolutely had to, it'd be all of the stars. cried my way through it. will cry again when i reread it. i cry a lot in general.

@arumiee: mars, i know we haven't talked much but our conversation about nurse!armin yesterday is still running around in my head. i can't wait to read about either armin or eren in scrubs, istg. you're so kind and happy-go-lucky, i usually feel nervous when tagging someone on a post but with you yesterday? no problem at all. you give me a sense of safety ahaha (pls don't think i'm weird, i'm actually not. or, yes, i am but in a good way). your purify me had me wanting to take a bath in holy water after reading it. preferably a bath with eren. i guess we're both headed to hell ahaha

@odmlevis: rizrizrizrizriz. i'm laughing right now because all i think of is our last conversation and it's hard to gather my thoughts whenever my mind goes to eren and reiner. or eren and jean - or jean and connie ahaha. i'll have all of them with me in the middle, pretty please.

but back to topic: your the most hurtful things they'd say to you still has my heart breaking. absolutely broken into pieces. because somehow you managed to put all of my worst fears into it. i don't know why i reread it on the regular (i do know, i'm a sucker for pain). other than that, i'm always so happy when i read your messages and when i see you out and about, making others happy with your lil "someone told me to tell you something"-thing you do so often. you're so precious, lemme smooch you.

@onyxoverride: onyx istg your blog is the place i go to if i am down bad. down bad bad. i know we rarely talk and me saying your blog is the place i take my horniness to might come off as weird but it's the truth. i even have problems with picking a favourite because goddamn they're all so good?? what is your secret? if there's a reason for me to go to hell (other than mars' purify me) it's gonna be because of ocean spit. do i have to elaborate further? eren's titan form is fucking hot and thank you for this delicious meal ahha. i am getting all flustered rn just by looking at the lil pic on top of your fic. i will see myself out now. love u onyx you are cool as hell (and i'm nervous as fuck - you're sitting at the cool kids' table in my head ahah - that's why i am so silent around u)

@1252291: and now to you. connie 2 my sasha. erwin smiths ball whore. twIN FLAME, LIGHT OF MY LIFE. buckle up cos we're in for a wild ride. i was debating whether or not to post every of your fics here, because i love all of them so much. i came up with a better idea tho: here's your masterlist. i will talk about two of your works in particular later on, but first you're gonna have to endure me violently showering you with kisses and love.

i haven't told you this before (shocking, i know) but ever since we started talking, i feel like i have a real-life friend again. i haven't had friends in a while and i am so fucking thankful to have you. i really am. i even told my therapist about you because he asked why i am so happy all of a sudden? newsflash: it's because of you.

usually, it was insomnia keeping me up at night but now it's because i am talking to you. and you have no idea how fucking great it feels to wake up in the morning and feel tired; not because some shitty thoughts kept me awake but because i was talking to a friend. i will forever love you for this. you've been there when i was at one of the darkest and loneliest stages of my life and lit up the fucking room with your personality and humour. thank you for being my light. for giving me the same feeling i have when rewatching lord of the rings. for being you. i will stop now but you know i will keep on loving you on main until i take my last breath.

now to your works. falling in love and stay forever. i think you already knew that these are the ones i hold dearest. i still think about felix and rue. i love felix and rue and my heart hurts when thinking of them. your way with words has characters coming to life and touching your heart in a way i've never experienced before. like i said, it felt like those are my friend who died. my fingers running through levi's hair, trying to make his endless pain go away. i am crying again. thank you for creating this. if you ever find the books you've written (or write a new one) i will buy a copy. or ten. have to have some to give away so i can promote your work.

i love u connie 2 my sasha. i really do.

#not me being soft on main #that's a new one ahah #recs

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 3 years

Text

The One with the Engagement Picture

Ayy, using this to try new ones. Another for @thatesqcrush’s FRIENDS challenge.

Peter Stone hadn’t always been as much of a partier as he’d become, and he would certainly reject the term womanizer. Anyone he dated or slept with knew that he just wasn’t ready to settle down anymore. Maybe it was because he’d tried to do that once and ruined it. When he tore his ulnar collateral ligament, he’d accepted he wouldn’t be pitching anymore, and slowly an ocean seemed to settle between himself and his teammates. He was bitter, and they were busy. As the partying stopped for him to heal and return to school, there was one woman he found himself content to spend nights with on the couch with. It was the first time since he’d been an adult that Peter was in a serious, monogamous relationship, and he thought it suited him.

Dahlia had moved to Chicago for graduate school, and she was thoroughly unimpressed with his baseball background. Did she think it was cool? Sure. Was she understanding they’d be going to games? Yes. But, he had to teach her how the game worked and let her know which of his friends even played when she met them. She was more interested in dragging him antique shopping or to old bookshops where he’d have to keep her from falling off of a ladder. While she learned his world, Peter got far more comfortable than he ever expected to with pin curls, vintage compacts, and inspecting dresses for sweat stains or cigarette burns. It made her happy to invest time in it, so if she’d wear his old jersey tucked into her high waisted jeans and go to a game with him, he’d take pictures of his pin up at the rockabilly festival they drove out to.

When he proposed, he was nauseatingly proud to find a mid century ring at the vintage jewelry store she loved. The owner knew him from each time he had followed her through, shopping bags in hand as she purused. That meant he had help from a woman who knew Dahlia’s ring size and which cut she’d like the most; he picked correctly anyway, she’d said. He’d been careful to plan an outing to the park, packing a picnic and red and white checked blanket. He had a friend hiding to capture pictures, and it felt like the timing was perfect. Soon enough, he had a picture of her, hand over her mouth as he asked her to marry him sitting on his desk at home, and one with her showing off the ring as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, his arms slung around her waist, sitting on his office desk.

Things were easier then, when he was working and she was in school. Their schedules still aligned, so they could see each other in the evenings. Then, she finished her MFA and taught night classes in order to make ends meet while she worked on her next novel. They’d met not long before the first was published, and he’d read a preview copy the first weekend he knew her and dug up poetry she’d published in volumes stored at the university. His brain didn’t work like that and he liked that about her. He was more about practicality and comfort. She was creative and artistic, comfort be damned.

The change in schedules made things hard. Peter wasn’t good when things got hard. The transition to not seeing each other much during the week, even though they lived together, quickly coupled with wedding planning stress to create arguments they hadn’t had before. Instead of quiet togetherness, they’d bicker. He got home late, so they didn’t see each other before she left to teach. She had to pick something up after work, so he was asleep when she got home. Dahlia wanted to plan the wedding, and Peter was getting nervous because he hadn’t watched many marriages stay happy. He pushed off decisions, avoided picking a venue. After a while, she got an offer to teach creative writing in New York.

“I could have normal hours, Peter. We could see each other. You know you’d get a job in New York.”

“I’m not going back there, Dahl.”

“It’s a big city. You wouldn’t even have to see him. We wouldn’t even have to tell Ben, would we?”

“No.”

“So we just keep not planning a wedding and not seeing each other? Do you even want to marry me?”

“You know I do.”

“No I don’t!”

“Then maybe you should take the fucking job without me.”

The minute he said it, he regretted it. The way Dahlia’s face fell and tears came made him feel stupid. She’d spent her weekends helping him with physical therapy. She’d taken the shitty adjuncting job to stay in Chicago until he was a little more established. She was patient about maneuvering the strained dynamic between Ben and Peter Stone. Hell, she wasn’t even asking him to go back to New York forever. It was a year and then the university would evaluate if they’d offer her a permanent position. They could be back in Chicago after a year. And now she was crying. He hadn’t made her do that before, not because she was sad.

“Fine,” she managed, jaw shifting as she tried to get the tears to stop. “I’ll go then. I can’t keep doing this. You won’t plan the wedding. We fight all the time. And now you want me to go? Here’s your fucking ring.”

If Peter had been used to having a girlfriend or wanting her to stay, Peter might have developed the skills required to do more than stare as Dahlia shoved her clothes into a suitcase and clutch the ring in his outstretched hand. He might have thought to fly to the city when he realized she’d actually gone ahead and moved and show up at her apartment unemployed and ready to go to the courthouse to prove he needed her there.

Instead, he steeled his jaw over the next few weeks. His arm had healed the first year of law school, so he simply returned to his circle of friends that went out and dated whoever and covered for each other. He always ignored the ones in a vintage dress or with dark curled hair. Those were the ones who could hurt him. Who let him pretend afterwards that it was Dahlia beside him, and they were married and happy.

When he moved out the apartment they’d shared-it was too much there now- he picked a painfully modern place and filled it with sleek modern furniture, The antiques she hadn’t taken were sold, and he finally felt that maybe he’d scrubbed his life of Dahlia, save the engagement pictures he kept in the top drawer of his desk. She had probably responded to the break up like an actual adult and moved on. Had a husband and career. Maybe even a baby. He hated the thought, so when he thought it, he’d pour another drink. And it was fine, because he’d just distanced himself from everything that could make him think of her. And that was fine, really it was. Peter had been a playboy before. He was a partier. He was an ex-baseball player. And he was fine.

Then his father died.

Peter felt the solitude then. There hadn’t been anything new and hard to process since Dahlia left. He wandered New York and wondered if she was still there somewhere or if she’d gotten another teaching job somewhere. When McCoy convinced him to take the ADA position after Baba’s trial, he couldn’t say no, and one of the engagement photos found a new home in the top drawer of his new desk. SVU was harder, and it found its way out more. He’d hold it in his free hand, sipping a drink as he tried to channel the advice she’d have given him.

“Ben liked her,” Jack said softly one day. “He had a copy of that picture until the engagement ended.”

“I was an idiot.”

“Aren’t we all at some point? Learn from it.”

Peter left it out after that. It faced him from the corner, and he remembered feeling grounded. That was what he really missed. Dahlia had given him a place to land. His dad had always felt unstable, and he wasn’t close with his mom. He wasn’t even always at home, staying with his aunt periodically. And then he’d made a happy stable home with Dahlia and ruined it.

When Pamela died, he stopped partying for fun and started using it to numb himself, but one night, he met a woman with dark brown pin curls and fair skin. She’d left when Dahlia’s name fell from his lips. That’s when he knew he had to reach out. He had to know if there was a family or a set of kids or a job in another city. He needed closure.

“Hello?” She sounded confused when she answered, and he suddenly remembered it was nearly midnight. He also remembered she never checked caller ID. Oh God, or she’d deleted his number.

“Dahlia?” Papers stopped shuffling and he could hear her sharp intake of breath. He could almost picture her, perched in an armchair, probably a yellow velvet one, with wide eyes and hair pinned up for the night and tied in a silk scarf as she graded or proofed her own manuscript. Maybe it was a friend’s manuscript.

Oh God, what if it was a husband’s manuscript. Another writer. She’d like that.

The cool metal of the picture he kept at home was pressed into the skin of his palm before he whispered, “Dahl, it’s Peter.”

“I know,” she said softly. “You don’t sound okay.”

“I’m not.”

“What happened?”

“Pamela.”

“What happened to Pamela? I can be on a plane to Chicago if you need someone. Or if you need help in the city, I can arrange things. Check on her.”

“How do you know I don’t have someone?”

“Would you be calling if you did?”

“I’m in New York. Where did you end up?”

“They offered me a permanent position. How long have you been in the city?” He could tell she was trying to mask hurt that he hadn’t called before now. But what was he supposed to say? Dad’s dead so I live here now.

“Since January. Dad died. I prosecuted an ADA. Then I took his job.”

“Ben’s gone?”

“So is Pam.”

“Pam’s gone?” He let out a shaky breath, chest tight. “Send me your address.”

“You don’t have to--”

“Address or I start calling your baseball buddies.”

“I’ll text it.”

“I’m not hanging up until I’m there.”

“Is it creepy I keep the engagement photo on my desk?”

“We’re not touching that right now Peter. You’re drunk and not okay.”

She was true to her word, not hanging up the phone until she arrived at his apartment. When he opened the door, he saw her just as he’d imagined her. Her hair was pinned in the silk scarf and a silk robe was tied over her pajamas. She had thrown it on over the same babydoll top and short sets she’d always been hunting down patterns for so she could make them herself and she’d slid on flats.

The sight of her made him feel tethered again, though he had had enough more to drink between the initial call and her arrival that he had gone from tipsy to unsteady. He went to hug her, and Dahlia carefully kicked the door close, locked it, and maneuvered him to his big leather couch that she looked terribly out of place on.

“Let it out, Peter,” she whispered, and he buried his face into the crook of her neck like she might float away or vanish. The cry wasn’t like anything he’d let her see before. He’d been careful and controlled anytime something hurt, glossing over details that could make it worse to give her a pig picture. But now, he cried like he was alone, heaving sobs with snot and tears and drool as he clutched her.

She settled into the couch enough he was basically curled in her lap. That’s how he woke the next morning too, curled against her torso with his head on her shoulder. She’d fallen asleep with her cheek pressed against the top of his head, and he was both embarrassed and relieved she was still there. Carefully he untangled himself from her, wanting to clean up before he had to face her. Face the fact it was his own fault he’d had to deal with it all alone.

He came out to find her having obviously used the guest bathroom to rinse her face, though she was clad in his boxers and henley now. She was too averse to pants for his sweats. And like the angel she was, Dahlia was cooking. He was, however, mortified to see what she was holding as whatever she’d put in the oven cooked was the engagement photo he’d been clinging to when he called. But he could also see she seemed to be looking at it fondly.

“Your interior design is terrible,” she teased gently, setting the frame aside. “I left you so much of the good stuff.”

“I couldn’t bring it from Chicago.”

“Peter, you forget I brought it from Chicago.”

“When I looked at furniture we found together, it made me miss you, so I got rid of it.”

“I kept mine because it made me remember you.”

“I’m the one that was an absolute moron.”

“It was easier then, huh?” she said softly, picking the picture up again. Their smiles were wider. There were fewer lines on their faces. Ben and Pam were in New York alive, and Dahlia and Peter had forever in front of them. Peter didn’t need to talk to her about something he didn’t want to remember.

“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’m sorry I let you go.”

“I’m sorry I let you. I shouldn’t have left the first time we fought. I knew how you were.”

“You were right to. I went for what I knew would hurt.”

“We can address all of that later. For right now, do you want to start talking or eat and then talk?”

“It’s my fault Pam’s dead.”

“You need to elaborate on that one, Peter. Because I’m sure there is more happening than you’re saying.”

“I didn’t drop a case. A victim tortured her attacker. We didn’t know for sure at first. A cartel was involved and they threatened to hurt Pam if I didn’t drop the case. We had guards, but they massacred Pam’s facility and took her. Diaz killed her in the gunfire. Dahl, she recognized me. She called for me, and he killed her. It’s been months, and I just, I feel so lost.”

“Peter,” she whispered, pulling him close.

He stiffened at first. He’d expected disgust, not sympathy. This was his fault. That’s what he’d been telling himself for weeks, distracting himself with booze and bars and women like he had done when he wanted to pretend his family was fine, that Pam wasn’t sick, that he was close with his dad. This time though, the hurt was bigger.

He was crying into her shoulder again, and he suddenly wished he’d been smart enough to call the minute he’d arrived. That she’d been there at dad’s funeral and for the trial of Rafael Barba. Maybe then he wouldn’t have even taken the job. He’d have recognized something bad was brewing. Instead he’d gotten his sister killed and was clinging to Dahlia in the early morning light of his kitchen.

“It happened in May.”

“Why didn’t you call sooner?”

“I didn’t mean to call now.”

“How have you been coping?” He was quiet, shifting awkwardly. “Baseball methods?”

“Yeah.” He was ashamed to tell her, and she squeezed him gently.

“I went with baseball methods after we split. You’re a single man. I don’t like the thought and it’s not healthy, but it’s better than other things you could’ve done.” They didn’t speak much as they ate. Neither one knew what to say to the other any more, but she didn’t want to leave him alone and he shouldn’t be left alone. When he did speak again, his voice was gentler than it had been in a while.

“Can we go antiquing?”

“You want to go?”

“I want to carry your bags and think about sweat stains.”

“How does that help you?”

“Is it manipulative if I say that’s the last time I was really happy? Because if you say no I won’t be mad. It’s just true.”

“It could be. But I believe you. I think it’s the last time I was really happy too.”

“Really?”

“Depends? Did I pretend to understand baseball between our last antiquing trip and moving?”

“No. You moved in the off season.”

“Then really. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been fine. I love work. I love writing. I love the city. But I like everything more with you. Even if you’re a jock.”

“I thought I was happy before you. But I wasn’t.”

“You have to take me home first so I can get ready.”

“Deal.” And that’s what found him in her living room while she got dressed. He wasn’t stupid; Dahlia was the same as she’d always been, so he was waiting patiently as she brushed out her set curls and did her make up. She came back out in a pretty shirtdress, one he felt sure he’d found for her a long time ago, and keds, and Peter knew he’d do anything to get this back. The feeling of groundedness, that maybe they could be a team again, awe she was even agreeing to comfort him on any level.

She led him through new vintage shops now. They were in a whole new state after all. He decided that maybe baseball methods didn’t work, and he talked to Dahlia. This time he really talked though. He’d brushed over stories about his father and Pam. He didn’t like the bad ones or the feelings they could bring up. Besides, Ben Stone was a saint, didn’t you know? Peter hadn’t ever been talk about his father, so he kept that habit up with Dahlia the first time. He also told her the truth. He’d panicked over marrying her because she was his first real girlfriend and the prospect of settling down and having her grow to hate him like his mother had his father scared him. That one was a revelation to her.

He’d basically moved in with her a month after their outing to go antiquing. She preferred their old furniture and her vintage collection. Besides, Peter, I have a built in vanity here! The engagement photo in the park was replaced on his desk a year later. It showed them now in a different park in a different city with different lives to the ones so long ago. They also had different methods of communication, meaning they’d weathered fights as they adjusted to things again. The same ring was on display, however, and the same smile was plastered on Peter’s face as Dahlia pressed a kiss to his cheek.

#thatesqcrushFriends #peter stone x reader #peter stone #peter stonex oc #law and order #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit

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tsukishimashoyo · 3 years

Text

Jealous Boyfriend

Bokuto Koutarou

You and Bokuto are in a relationship and it's really healthy relationship, though sometimes you have to deal with his emo mode.

One day one of your batchmate invite you to go with her on a cafe to have a conversation and also to catch up about your lives. You messaged Bokuto that you and your batchmate will have a bonding and maybe you might not be able to go home early because you have a bunch of catch ups to be talked about. But then something came up unexpectedly.

"Uhm--*whispers* I thought we're just gonna catch up but why there's a two boys sitting in front of us?" you said and smiled awkwardly at the boy who's infront of you.

"Yes, we are now" she said-smiling sweetly to the other guy.

"This is not the get together I know, then I'm going now, maybe we can catch up some other time *getting ready to leave*" you stand up but the boy who's in front of you stopped you by holding your hand.

"Uhmm *scratch the back of his head*"

"*Does he have a dandruff?* What do you need?" you said pulling your hands off of him.

" Can I get your number?" he shyly asked.

"No, because I have a boyfriend and I love him, so please let you of my hand, and let me leave" you said taking your hand off of him.

"O M!!, I'm so sorry y/n, I thought you're still single, I'm really sorry, you can go now, I'll take care of this, bye~" your batchmate apologetic.

"It's okay, though you should ask first before you make a move okay? Well I'm going now, bye~" you said waving her a goodbye.

You came home earlier than what you said because of what happened a while ago. You saw Bokuto sulking at the corner of the room facing the wall-hugging his both knees.

" Hey Kou, what are you doing? Why are you at your emo mode again? Is there something you want to say to me?" you said sitting beside him and and copying his position.

" Do you still love me?, *sob* are you gonna break up with me?" he asked--still facing the wall, crying.

" Wha-" he cutted you off.

" It's okay bab- y/n, you can *sob* do what you want, I'm sorry for being *sob* annoying boyfriend, maybe you are *sob* tired of me *sob*" he face you while saying it -- still crying.

" Babe, I'm not gonna break up with, why would you say that?" you hugged him while saying that.

" I went to the cafe you said *sob* you're going, and I saw you with another guy, I thought that you're gonna *sob* broke up with me and went home" he said hugging you back still crying.

" Babe, I'll explain so listen okay?"

"*Nods*"

" My batchmate set a double date because she thought I'm still single, but she said sorry already, that's why I went home earlier than I said because I want to spend time with my "Baby boyfriend" *you let go of the hug and cupped his face and wipe his tears* so stop sulking and crying, because I won't break up with you, I love you my baby" you said smiling sweetly at him.

He hugged you tightly and said * "I love you too baby".

*You and Bokuto just stayed at home cuddling and spending the day together*

---END---

Sakusa Kiyoomi

You and Sakusa are really a good couple and you understands him being a germaphobic.

" Kiyo~ I'm gonna go to the supermarket to buy some foods and also necessities" you said while Sakusa is in the shower for about 2 hours *sigh, this "clean freak" *

" Also, get out now, you're clean already, you're becoming a shining person, scrubbing your body for two hours, well I'm going now, see you later~" you said getting your bag.

" Wait babe, I'm coming, wait a bit, I'll go with you" Sakusa said-you heard the shower turned off.

" Just wait here Kiyo, there's so many people at the supermarket, I can manage, also I'm just gonna buy a few things, I can carry it" you blushed when you saw Kiyoomi coming out of the shower half naked.

" *smiles evily* Hey baby~ if that's what you want but--that can wait later" Kiyoomi walking slowly towards you.

" *Blushes intensely* STOP - Kiyo, bye~" you ran away from him while blushing.

"*chuckles* You heard Kiyoomi laugh a bit while running away.

*Many hours passed and it's already night*

" It's already late and my phone is dead bat, I can't message Kiyo to pick me up, guess I'm gonna walk again *sigh*" talking to yourself.

It's really an exhausting day because there's so many people at the supermarket and many counters are closed because of a problem, only few counters are working.

While walking a person approach you.

" Uhmm, excuse me, can I ask for a directions?" said the man that approach you.

" Yeah" you answered shortly because of exhaust.

" Oh thank you, Where is ***** Subdivision? I'm kinda lost because my parents didn't tell me where is it and just said I should find it myself, such a cruel parents blah blah blah blah blah " blurted the stranger man.

" Oh, that's where I'm going, I live there with my boyfriend, you can come with me, also maybe your parents just wants you to be independent, I really regret not letting my boyfriend come with me *sigh* but his a germaphobe, I just care for his health because his gonna get sick if there's many people will gonna touch him intentional/unintentional " you said and smiled slightly.

You both talkative so you and him became friends. You're now near at your house and you didn't saw Kiyoomi staring at you and the man who's with you at the window,he also saw that the man carries the grocery bags for you.

You smiled at the man and wave him goodbye.

The time you got in at your place, Kiyoomi suddenly hugs you and throws the grocery bags.

" KIYO?! Wait I just got exposed with so many germs, I need to wash up first, let go of me first" you said panicking because Kiyoomi will gonna get sick for so much germs.

He didn't let go of the hugs and starting to sneeze.

" O my Gosh Kiyo, let go of me NOW, your starting to sneeze" you said and force him to let go of the hug.

You and Kiyoomi went to the bedroom and laid him in the bed, then you went to shower. You're hearing Kiyoomi sneeze again and again.

After showering you took care of Kiyoomi all night.

*Another day comes*

While you are cleaning you heard an opening door and closes.

"Goodmoring baby~* he said and kisses your forehead.

" First of all Goodmoring too, *you put your both hand on your waist and face him* why did you do that last night huh? " you said raising your left eyebrow.

" Are you mad baby~? Don't be mad at me pluuueeeasssshhh? *he said using baby tone*" he hugs you and suddenly swaying you both lightly.

" Let go *using your cold tone* " he let you go and just stare at the floor while fidgeting his fingers.

" I'm not mad okay, so look at me Kiyo * smiles at him * but I want to know why did you do that knowing I'm exposed with many germs and also you throw away the groceries " you said. *the groceries that I bought for how many hours just to get it,i just want to cry now*

" Wellll~ I saw you with another man last night, and he carries the bags, and I thought that if I get sick you won't leave me and you're gonna take care of me until I get better" he said--still fidgeting his fingers-looking at the floor.

" *sigh* that jealousy of yours-" he cutted you of.

"I'm really sorry baby, please don't leave me" he said and hugs you.

"Im not gonna leave you okay?, and also the man that you saw is our new neighbour that got lost for how many hours and ask me the direction, because his parent didn't tell him the direction that leads here" you said while patting his back.

"I'm really sorry baby *he let's go of the hug and looked at you with teary eye*"

" *chuckles* I really like when your jealous, you're being a baby, I forgave you already, but don't do it again okay?" you said while chuckling.

" Mean *pouts* I really love you baby~" he said and and hugs you.

" I love you too My Kiyo~" you said and hugs back.

---END---

#haikyuu koutarou #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu boyfriend #bokuto kotarou #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x y/n #bokuto x y/n #tsukishimashoyo #@senyuuno

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ushiwakaa · 4 years

Text

𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐈 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 ;

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you’re a new hire at onigiri miya and you just learnt your boss has a brother.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : miya atsumu x soft!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff ?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : none

𝐚/𝐧 : this is it. this is my debut as a fanfic writer. it’s definitely miya - centric, not sure if we properly conveyed a ship tho ..,,. there could b a pt 2 , we’ll see (:< anyway , a BIG thank u to the volleyboy cheese cult who encouraged me thru my whole creative process uwu

You duck under the curtains, precariously balancing two plates of rice balls along both arms. The door chimes and you look up with a bright, welcoming smile. But, looking at the customer for another moment, you find yourself tilting your head in confusion.

“Ah — Miya-san? When did you step out?”

You could’ve sworn he was just in the kitchen.

“What d’ya mean when did I step out?”

“Sorry,” you say quickly, averting your gaze — Maybe you were too forward.

“Don’t cha know who yer talking to?”

Taken aback by the harshness to his tone, you falter momentarily before furrowing your brows. “Miya-san, I… I’m really confused right now.”

In spite of the short amount of time that you’ve worked at Onigiri Miya’s Tokyo location, you’ve classified your boss, Miya Osamu, to be a fairly quiet and polite man. In fact, it was his demure constitution that convinced you to apply for the store. With good hours and pleasant co-workers, it seemed like the perfect part-time job for a student like yourself.

“(Y/n), can you get out of the way—”

Scuttling to the side, you’re suddenly more confused as you move away from the curtain. As your boss steps into the front, he stops with a deadpan stare. You find yourself frozen in place. Because Miya-san is right in front of you. But, also… right behind you?

“Yer late, Tsumu.”

The other man sticks out his tongue at that. Osamu sneers. He blows a raspberry. Your boss proceeds to a sigh before gesturing at the other man.

“Sorry, (Y/n). This is my brother, Atsumu. Our mom dropped him on the head when he was a baby. He’s a fuckin’ scrub.”

“Who ya callin’ a scrub, ya scrub?”

“You, ya scrub!”

Atsumu gives an indignant grunt at that.

While you’re still sort of confused while watching this banter happen before your eyes, you offer a shallow bow to Atsumu. He gives a benign nod in reply. Sure, you can put two and two together — they’re definitely brothers — but are they… twins? It might be rude to ask since he doesn’t specify so you leave the question unspoken. After all, you and your sisters look like carbon copies and you’re not a set of triplets.

When neither of them offer you anything else and continue to dig at each other, you decide to get back to work. You give an apology to the table waiting for their food and make a point to refill their waters while you’re there. You waste a couple of minutes by wiping down couple of tables but once you finish up your rounds, you retreat to your spot behind the counter.

You don’t necessarily want to interrupt their conversation. Not only is it not your place to, you also don’t want to enter in Atsumu’s bubble. He’s kind of like a bomb you’re afraid to set off. But, when your boss disappears into the kitchen and his brother takes a seat at the bar, you realize that if you want anything else to do, you have to walk past him.

You try not to meet his eyes, but you can tell he’s staring at you.

“What’s yer name?” He finally asks.

Your eyes meet his, wide in surprise. His hooded eyes provide an unfriendly stare — more mocking then anything. You don’t really want to tell him but you do in the end.

“You a student?”

You nod.

“Stop lookin’ so scared.”

You apologize.

“Whatever.”

He turns away from you, successfully disinterested. With that, you escape to the back of the store. While it’s clear that Atsumu is handsome, he’s a little too pushy to be your type. It’s weird to imagine that he’s related to your boss. While you feel a sense of comfort working with Osamu, you feel particularly on-edge in the presence of his brother.

You pull down the brim of your hat as you scurry behind the curtain. Your face is flush; even redder than you think possible.

“Ah, (y/n),” Osamu chimes, elbow deep into the rice cooker. “You’re here.”

“Hello, Miya-san,” you mumble.

He looks up at your unnaturally diffused tone — his eyebrow quirks as he notices your red countenance. “Ya feelin’ alright?”

Embarassed that even Osamu can see the affect Atsumu has on you, you pull down your hat even further.

“It’s just a little warm!” You squeak.

Thankfully, Osamu leaves it at that.

He continues to work while he addresses you, “I guess you probably seen him outside, but don’t mind my brother too much. He’s got nothin’ better to do than hang out here until the season starts back up again.”

“The season?”

“He plays volleyball.”

Atsumu-san must be pretty useless if all he does is play volleyball, you find yourself musing. But, you nod at your boss’ words and create your resolve. Be nice to Atsumu-san, he’s a burden to society.

“Say — Do ya mind bringing that negitoro out for him?”

Despite the residual heat at your cheeks, you give him an affirmative reply (after all, it is your job) and bring out the dish for Atsumu. He raises a brow as you shuffle out — the look is a mirror-image of his brother’s a moment previous.

“Here’s your meal.” You awkwardly place the dish in front of him. “Enjoy.”

“Yer doing it again.”

Your eyes widen as you apologize.

He shakes his head, fixing you with a look. “My eyes up here, sweetheart.”

Your chest suddenly feels uncomfortably tight. Is this what it feels like to explode? Mustering all the courage you have in your body, you meet his level gaze. As your eyes meet his, you can feel yourself melt and its takes everything within you to keep your knees from buckling.

“You keep lookin’ at me like I’ll eat ya.” His tone comes off cheeky — watching you with hooded eyes. “I won’t y’know.”

You break eye-contact first.

“Uh… Um… I —” You bite your lip. “I heard you play volleyball.”

He crows and at that, you feel confident enough to look at him again. Thankfully, his eyes aren’t on you anymore.

He grins proudly. “I do.”

“Are you any good?”

He laughs again. “Really good, actually.” When he meets your eyes this time, you don’t flinch. “You should come watch me sometime.”

Surprisingly, your lips curve into a smile as you nod. “…I’d really like that.”

“Next game we play,” he promises.

Just like that, the tension melts away and the mood levels into a comfortable atmosphere. The next time he looks at you, you still feel weak at the knees and you think you might explode but it’s a feeling you want to get used to.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @writingsbycrackhead @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @shinsukestan ( cheese cult taglist )

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #miya atsumu #atsumu miya #writing

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tact-and-impulse · 3 years

Text

Shinkane Week 2021 Day 1

For this prompt of ‘roommates’, it’s a sequel to Propriety! Let’s see where Miss Tsunemori and her faithful former chauffeur have ended up, now that they’re on the run…

Runaways

“I’m so sorry, but we only have one room available.”

He clenched his jaw. Gino would have his hide if he found out, but it seemed there was no other choice. “We’ll take it.”

Beside him, Miss Tsunemori was feigning interest in the worn floorboards. The innkeeper handed over the key and directed them to the room. It was terribly cramped, with only one futon. Extra blankets would be brought for the other to make do.

As soon as the innkeeper left, he insisted. “You can take the bed. I’m used to sleeping on the floor.”

“But you must be tired too. You drove the entire time.”

He did, because it was the middle of the night and she didn’t know the roads. He wasn’t even entirely confident they were safe yet. He had driven until the fuel ran out, and then decided to ditch their vehicle on the side of the road. It had been a harrowing twenty-four hours, and her entire life had been pulled out from underneath her. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, I’m the servant.”

“Not anymore.”

That was true and he abruptly turned away. “Get some sleep. We’ll think better if we sleep.”

His blankets were then delivered, and afterwards, neither of them spoke. As he attempted to find a comfortable position, he couldn’t help hearing her light breathing and knew she was just as restless.

***

“I’d like to see the ocean.” She had said, when he asked for a destination.

So, here they were, in a harbor town. They had watched the sun rise over the glittering water, and Miss Tsunemori had darted to the shoreline. He followed her prints, hiding them under his, and joined her at the breaking surf. She was standing just shy of the approaching foam.

“See any monsters?”

“Kougami-san!” She admonished but laughed. She could laugh when they were alone, without worry that someone would overhear and realize that it wasn’t two young men staying in the last room. “No, I haven’t.” She bent down, untying her shoes and removing her socks. After placing them on higher ground, she dipped her toes in. Just as she did, she made a startled sound and retreated.

He took her arm, steadying her. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I didn’t expect it would still be cold.” She pressed her feet into the darkened sand. “I suppose that makes sense, it’s early.”

Letting go, he copied her, tossing his boots closer to her belongings. He stepped into a wave, the ocean surging around his ankles. “It’s actually not bad. Once you’re in it, you’ll warm up.”

She splashed towards him. “If you say so…”

For a few minutes, they didn’t move. He crossed his arms, breathing deeply of the salty air. “So…where to?”

“I’m not sure.” A frown had settled upon her face. The reality was kicking in, that there was no plan other than running as fast and far as they could.

“We need to decide. Every minute we stall, we risk getting caught.”

“You’d be arrested for kidnapping me.” She had already reached that conclusion, and despite that bleak possibility, he felt a twinge of pride. “And I don’t want that to happen.”

“Maybe, you’d see me again when I’d leave jail in twelve years.”

“Please don’t joke about something like that.”

He glanced at her forlorn expression, her downturned lips. “Sorry.”

A breeze swept through, and she held on to her hat. “If I can keep up this disguise, I wonder if I can study law.” She mused.

“Maybe.” He conceded. His skin itching with the need to move, he walked away from the ocean and grabbed his boots. She followed suit, and they slowly crossed the beach.

“Kougami-san?”

“Yes?”

“How do we get rid of the sand?”

***

Her question also brought up the issue of hygiene, so they concocted an excuse that “Akio” had a skin condition and couldn’t go to the public bathhouses, unlike “Satoru”. The story bought them a large basin of water and coarse soap. Miss Tsunemori was eager to use them, and to secure her privacy in this small room, he made a suggestion in case the innkeeper knocked.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead. Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He held up the sheet, turning his head to the side. “Let me know when you’re done.”

“Alright, thank you.” There was rustling, as she removed her clothes. He tried to ignore the soft sounds and the liquid sloshing as she dipped below the surface.

He clenched the cotton, searching for a topic of conversation. “We can keep to the coastline, and there’s the option of leaving Japan.”

“I’m not sure if I want to, or even if you do.”

“Why not? There’s jungle out there, hidden temples.”

“Hmm. But you wanted to go to the mountains.” So, she remembered.

“Yeah. I had a teacher once, who said he wanted to live in the shadow of Mount Fuji. To us kids who only knew the rowhouses, his idea of a peaceful life was something we couldn’t really imagine.”

He could hear her smile in her reply. “But you liked it.”

That phrase, accompanied with the fact that she was naked in a tub just below him, caused him to waver. He renewed his grip on the sheet, his reply harsher than intended. “Well, runaways never have peace. Do you want to go home?”

Long moments passed, before she quietly replied. “I think we’re past that point.”

It wasn’t a denial. Before he could say as much, she announced that she was finished. He lifted the cover higher, while she dressed. It didn’t take long before she popped up on the other side, her face flushed.

“Thank you so much.” Her smaller fingers reached up, pulling the cloth barrier down. This close, he could smell the soap, and underneath, the lingering traces of sweet citrus that hadn’t been entirely removed. “Your arms must be sore. Do you want me to rub them?”

They did ache, but her offer was far too tempting for his fraying self-control. “That won’t be necessary. I’m going to the public baths. Keep the pistol, you know how to use it.” He was about to take the basin with him, but she protested.

“I can empty it, don’t worry.”

“…Thanks.” He couldn’t resist ruffling her short damp hair. His hand tingling, he hurried out of the building and down the road.

He was one of the few patrons at the time, and he was grateful. As he quickly scrubbed off the grime, he had an intrusive thought that she would be gone when he returned to the inn. It wouldn’t be surprising; being a runaway wasn’t nearly so glamorous, now that the initial adrenaline had faded.

However, when he knocked on the door, her lowered voice answered. Upon his entry, she sat up in her futon, clearly relieved. “Welcome back.”

And he smiled. “I’m back.”

***

They kept moving, never staying in a town longer than a few days. Kougami maintained a close eye on their surroundings, but he didn’t spot anyone tailing them. If Tougane was still persistent, he might have lost their trail. They traveled inland, running errands for money; he usually did manual labor, while she was a good scribe.

In one of the larger markets, there was a stall selling books. Her interest couldn’t be concealed, and he encouraged her to peruse, while he bought the remainder of their supplies. She had found one in particular and her gaze was bright as she skimmed through the book.

“Is it about law?” He asked over her shoulder.

“History, actually. But it’s well-written.”

He approached the vendor. “How much?” They spent a minute bargaining, but he was going to pay regardless.

As they headed to their lodgings, she humbly said. “Kougami-san, you didn’t have to.”

“Hey, it’s a gift. That’s what roommates do.” He smacked the spot between her shoulder blades, and she startled. For a moment, he wondered if that was too forward, but she didn’t mention it.

“Well, then I need to return the favor. Let me know if you really want anything.”

There was, but it wasn’t the time, place, or situation to ask for it. He didn’t speak again, trying not to think of a sweltering night that seemed like years ago.

In the evenings, he pored over their maps, marking the places they had left. It was still warm, and he left the window open. The sound of cicadas also distracted him from the fact that he was really itching for a smoke.

Then, there was a slight tap against his upper arm. Miss Tsunemori had set her book aside, holding out an open box of rolled papers, pungent and familiar.

“Here. I bought you a new pack, since you ran out.”

“You noticed.” It was the same brand he liked too. Touched, he accepted the cigarettes. He picked one, lighting it. Noticing that she was watching, he asked. “Want to try one?”

“No, thank you. I’ve gotten used to the smell though. Now, it reminds me of you.”

“Does it?” He regarded her, the smoke weaving around them. She blushed but didn’t look away.

At that moment, a cicada flew into the room. She clamped a hand over her mouth to stop from screaming, and he bit off a curse as he extinguished the cigarette in the ash tray, before grabbing his boot to kill the invader. A few good hits, and he tossed the body out before she closed the window. Damn bugs.

Shocked laughter bubbled from her lips. “That was…scary.”

“I wasn’t expecting that.” But he began to laugh too. It was the first time, since they’d driven away from Tokyo.

After recovering, it was quiet again. Even the cicadas must have tired out. For a second, they stared at each other.

“Well…it’s late.” She slowly said, wrapping up in her blankets. “Good night.”

In every room, they’d been sleeping on opposite ends, but this one was the smallest so far. If he could, he could roll over and close that distance. But he only answered. “Night.”

***

The final summer days gave way to autumn, and the mountains were abundant with color. Unfortunately, the scenery was the only enjoyable thing. Influenza was spreading, from beyond the borders. The numbers of infected and dead were rising fast. It was recommended to cover their faces with muslin layers, and the masks also served in laying low. However, it wasn’t enough, because he fell asleep one night with a dry throat and woke to feeling cold under his blankets.

She took over, ignoring his attempts to convince her that he should be left behind. She kept their brazier lit, measured his medicine, and even wiped him above the waist. He felt terrible and weak, but he had to rely on her. From morning to night, she looked after him, her brows drawn together in perpetual concern. He wasn’t getting better, not as quickly as he thought, and he knew it.

One morning, she wasn’t there when he opened his eyes, and he made an effort to sit up. The room spinning, he swayed, and his hand landed on the note she had left. She was buying more tea for him, but she would be back soon. And just like that, he was reassured. He didn’t stir again until he sensed her presence.

“I’m back. I’ve brought someone who said he could help. Can you hear me, Kougami-san?” She squeezed his fingers.

“Mm.” He grasped back, comforted by her touch.

“Kougami? Is that you?” The voice was familiar, and he thought he was dreaming as he looked up into the surprised, bespectacled eyes of the man who held weekly lessons for the rowhouse children.

“Saiga-sensei…please help.” Then, he spiraled into delirium.

***

“Young lady, what is he to you?”

“He’s-”

***

Just as he was beginning to crest over the worst, her temperature spiked. He blamed himself. Staying in one room together this whole time, breathing the same air. She deteriorated fast, struggling with each inhale. Her skin was burning, despite the growing chilliness.

He didn’t leave her bedside, giving her water and broth and the little medicine he was able to buy. Saiga said he had seen other young women survive this, but his expression was serious. Kougami was afraid. Afraid that she was going to die, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

In her fever dreams, she called for her parents. Her grandmother. Her friends. And for him. “Kougami-san! Don’t go!” For whatever reason he was, it brought her to tears, because they spilled down her face, onto her sweat-soaked pillow.

“I’m here.” He hushed her, pressing his hand to her forehead. “I’m here, Akane. I won’t leave you.”

He wouldn’t, because she believed in him. In the silent spaces between her coughing, her words haunted him.

He’s the person I trust most with my life.

***

“So, you ran away together?” Saiga summarized, as the two of them sat on the back steps of his house. “I admit, I’m not sure what to make of your decision. You must have had your difficulties.”

“It wasn’t easy, but it had its kinder moments.” Footprints in the sand, pages in the candlelight. A sheet between them.

His old teacher smiled. “That’s how life is. It was lucky that I was passing through. I was sick earlier this year, so I’ve been helping out. Kougami, don’t underestimate this flu.”

“It’s going to get worse, isn’t it? Winter isn’t even here yet.”

“You assume correctly. But at the very least, you’re both alive. I’m glad.” Miss Tsunemori’s fever had finally broken, though she was still weak. Kougami was better, but not by much. He still couldn’t bring himself to light a cigarette yet.

“Me too.”

“Whatever you decide next will be crucial. Snowy roads are harder to traverse, and with the infection rates, I’d be surprised if any small town will welcome outsiders. As long as you hold on to logic and clarity, you’ll find a solution.”

“I won’t forget. Thank you.”

With that, his teacher excused himself to obtain groceries, and Kougami went inside. She was reading the newspaper, looking lost.

“Miss Tsunemori?”

“Oh, Kougami-san. Um, sorry.” She hastily wiped at her eyes. “All the news of cases and deaths made me think of Obaa-chan. If we were this ill, then what about her? Masaoka-san too, and everyone else.”

“I know. Even Gino is only human. But if we go back…”

“We’re immune though. We can offer to nurse the sick, in exchange for clemency. We can negotiate.”

“And Tougane?”

“I can always use the pandemic as an excuse for delaying a wedding.”

“I don’t like the idea of you marrying him.” Saying that aloud felt like drawing to the edge of a precipice, that he knew he couldn’t turn back from.

‘I don’t either. But I’ll find another way.” Of course, she would say that. And he had faith in her.

He smiled bitterly. “Alright. Let’s return to Tokyo.”

#shinkaneweek #shinkane #psycho pass #i hit a block and then thought 'i wonder what else happened in 1918'#*googles*#oh #uhhhhh #that's appropriate

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

Bray Road - Fox Mulder x nonbinary!reader part 2

Agents Mulder and (Y/N) investigate mysterious killing on a forgotten road in rural Wisconsin. A connection to a case in the past brings the investigation to a whole new level.

—

The agents decided split up. Mulder went to go speak with the surviving victim and (Y/N) went to the coroner’s office so that they could look over the victims so they could get an idea of what could have done this.

Mulder entered the ICU where the boy was being held. Jason Mulligan, age twenty-two. He was a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire. After getting directions from the nurse, he knocked on the door and made his way inside. Laying on the hospital bed, the boy looked like he’d been through the ringer. Any skin visible was covered in bandages, even his head apart from his right eye and mouth was covered. At his bedside was a woman he assumed was his mother.

“Pardon my intrusion, I’m special agent Fox Mulder with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” He flashed his badge.

“This was an animal attack though.” Mrs. Mulligan said.

“We were called in, it’s just procedure. I just came to ask Jason a couple questions if he’s up to it.” Mulder said, looking at the boy in the bed.

Jason sat up a bit, “I can answer questions.” He spoke in a hushed voice.

“I appreciate that, young man. Now how did you find yourself out on Bray Road yesterday evening.”

“A couple of my friends from school said they saw the beast. We wanted to find it, take pictures and I don’t know… get some money for it? I don’t believe in this type of stuff but-…” He paused, his hands tightening into fists.

“But now you do?” Mulder asked.

“Look, I’ve seen bears and wolves. That thing wasn’t either of those. That thing wouldn’t let us leave the road. It circled us. Picked us off one by one. I got thrown into a ditch and played dead. I stayed there and passed out. I woke up in the hospital.” He recalled the night before.

“The officers said that you were saying a word when you were found. Repeating it actually. You were saying “field” over and over again.”

“I mean, we were right by a field. That’s the only thing I could think of.”

Mulder’s cell phone began ringing in his pocket. He handed Mrs. Mulligan his business card, “Call us if he remember anything else.” He made his way back into the hallway and answered his phone.

“Mulder.”

—–

(Y/N) arrived at the coroner’s office and was led back to the autopsy facility. Dr. Andrea Sherman was the doctor beginning the procedure. Dr. Sherman got scrubbed in and began speaking.

“We’ve pieced together about five bodies. Or what’s left of them. This is the body that’s mostly intact.” She motioned to the body on the table covered in a blue sheet. Dr. Sherman pulled the top of it away revealing the head and torso of Zeke Bruins according to the tag on his toe. His left arm was torn to shreds by the creature’s claws. His right arm, seemingly torn off. The doctor began her physical examination of the body.

“I think this is pretty open and shut.” Dr. Sherman began, “We’ve had a few bear sitting recently. These kids were just there at the wrong place and the wrong time. Probably just a mother defending her cubs.”

“But it’s only October, cubs aren’t usually born until January.” (Y/N) said without thinking, like the words just flew from their mouth. The doctor looked up from the corpse and eyed them.

“I suppose.” She squinted through her safety goggles, “By the way, are you from around here? You look really familiar.”

(Y/N) shook their head, “Nope, just have one of those faces.”

“Well anyway, rabid bear, black bear, the rare grizzly, it’s probably nothing-” She stopped mid sentence, “What the…”

“What is it?” (Y/N) asked. Dr. Sherman was staring into the arm socket of the boy, she took a pair of tweezers. With a little effort, she jerked free something that was embedded in the bone. She dropped it in a metal bowl.

“Oh my god.” Dr. Sherman said. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and their eyes widened. It was a human tooth. Their stomach dropped and their heart leapt into their throat.

“Could you sent the xrays to the field office in Quantico?” The doctor nodded, “Good. I’ll be in touch.” They made their way out the door and called agent Mulder. He picked up in the first few rings.

“Mulder.”

“It’s (Y/L/N). Listen, one of the victims had a tooth embedded in his shoulder blade.”

“A bear tooth?” He asked.

“No, a human tooth. But that doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, (Y/L/N) the human jaw is capable of biting off our fingers like a carrot, whose to say it can’t be lodged into your bone?” There was just a hint of humor is his voice.

“It’s impossible. The wounds sustained by the victims can’t be human. The average strength of our jaws are at about one hundred sixty pounds per square inch. The force that it would take to do this damage would have to be over two thousand.”

“I have a hunch. I’m meeting up with a local journalist on the case can you meet me there?”

—-

The address agent Mulder gave them was to a small townhouse closer to downtown. They parked in the driveway behind Mulder’s rental and met him on the porch where he seemed to already be talking with the journalist.

“Speak of the devil,” He smiled, “this is agent (Y/L/N).” (Y/N) met the pair and extended their hand to meet the woman’s.

“Linda Godfrey, a pleasure.” They shook her hand. Linda smiled at them.

“Have we met? I’m getting the strangest sense of deja vu.” She said.

(Y/N) shook their head, “Nope. Sorry.”

“Well, like I was telling your partner, back in 1991, I started working for The Week which is the local paper for the county. We were just getting siting after siting. So I started compiling and unraveling. I’m actually writing a book about it, I’m going to call it: The Beast of Bray Road: Tailing Wisconsin’s Werewolf!”

“So you think the beast is a werewolf?” Mulder asked, looking somewhat pleased.

“Well, I don’t know what else it would be. From the descriptions given that could be the only possibility. I even have the testimonies of the only survivor from the attack in the seventies.” Linda said excitedly.

“The survivor was a little kid, it was dark and they were scared. I don’t believe any testimony they give would be accurate. It’s the power of suggestion, this child lives in a town that makes its revenue from a cryptid like mothman or the Jersey devil.” (Y/N) rationalized.

“Even if that were true, Agent (Y/L/N), it’s all we have to go on. The child was placed with family in another state.” Linda said, “Now, if you would like, I could get you a copy of my research and all the evidence I have. You just have to promise to not let a single soul see it.”

“Cross our hearts.” Mulder made a crossing motion with his finger over the left side of his jacket coat.

“Well, come on in.” The agents followed Ms. Godfrey into her home. There were met by endless imagery of wolves and bears on almost every wall, figurines on the coffee table.

“I’ll be right back.” She said, leaving them in the living room.

“I never told you her name.” Mulder said, bending down to look at a figurine of a bear fishing.

“Huh?” They said, mind taken away from the portrait of a wolf howling at the moon.

“When I called you over here I never told you what the journalist’s name was. But you recalled it like it was someone you knew.” His green eyes seemed to look into their soul and to the core of their subconscious. They avoided eye contact, chewing on the inside of their lip.

“Look, Agent (Y/L/N), if you want me to trust you then you need to tell me what’s really going on here.” He said. They stood in silence for what seemed like forever. That is until Linda Godfrey came back with a stand of files.

“Here we are!”

Back at the hotel, Mulder had been in his room reading through the files that he had been gifted. Every first hand account of the creature. When he got to the killings in seventy-four he stopped. The name of the child from the case had the same first name as his partner, nothing strange about that. A coincidence more than anything. But that made him think. If he could find this person, who would be around his age at this point, maybe he could convince them to undergo regression hypnosis. He placed a call to the bureau to try and get the adoption records and went next door to share the findings.

A knock at the door pulled (Y/N) out of their thoughts. They hadn’t even realized the tears that were trailing done their face until then.

“Come in!” They called. The door opened and Mulder appeared in the doorway. He came inside, shutting the door behind him.

“I was looking through the records and I think the kid from the accident is our best bet of finding this thing. I got in contact with the bureau and they’re uncovering the adoption records.

“That won’t be necessary.” They said, finally meeting his eyes.

“And why’s that?” He asked. After taking a good look at them, he sat besides them on the bed, “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not.” They paused, choking on back sobs. They cleared their throat and laughed a little.

“Mulder, it’s me. I was the child in the car.”

—–

Yay! Part 2! I’m really happy with how this is coming our so far. Thank you for reading!

Part 3 here!

Also just in case anyone is interested: Linda Godfrey is a real person who actually wrote a book about the Beast of Bray road. I only dramatized her for the sake of the story.

Shoot me a message if you like to be added to the tag!

Bray Road tag:

@theres-a-dog-outside-omg

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barnesandrogersfanfics · 4 years

Text

Rose Coloured Glasses - Part 14

A/N - OMG its been a while.... again!! Im so sorry i promise i’ll try to update quicker. 💕💕

Having no work meant i had no reason to wake up early....i slept in until 10am then went downstairs to grab some cereal and a cup of tea which i took out into the backyard being as it was a nice day out.

Andy had text me just before 9am saying good morning, so i quickly shot a message back to him. I checked my emails and quickly scrolled through the news before deciding to go shower and start my day of doing absolutely nothing!

The day had been dragging so bad, i had already cleaned the house top to bottom and done the washing etc and it was barely lunchtime! I never thought id say this but i missed work.

It was nearing 10pm when i heard my front door being unlocked, i had a sudden rush of fear until i remembered i gave Andy my spare key.

"Hey" he said quietly as he dumped his coat on the arm chair. I looked up from where i was laying on the sofa watching some cooking show.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Tired" he scoffed before climbing onto the sofa squeezing in behind me so he could hold me close.

"How'd your meeting go with Joanna?" I asked stroking my fingers up and down his arm.

"Erghh" he moaned as he buried his face in my neck.

"That good huh?"

"Jake told us Ben had been bullying him, thats why he didn't tell anyone when he found his body. He thought he'd get the blame.... then Laurie brought up the stuff about my dad....Jacobs now pissed at me for lying to him"

"He'll get over it, he's probably just lashing out...."

"Maybe" Andy nodded "then i went to talk to Duffy, i needed to know if they were still looking into Patz.... i asked her if she could get me a copy of his file"

"She gonna help?"

"I dont think so. I thought we were friends you know? But turns out she didnt agree with me" he said sadly.

"Really? I thought you guys we're friends"

"Apparently we're just work colleagues"

"Im sorry you've had a crappy day" i turned to press a kiss to his lips and he smiled down at me.

"Its getting better now"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

"You eaten? I could make you something..."

"Not since lunch, but i'm good i just want to hold you" he mumbled with his head buried in my neck, a loud rumble from his stomach made us both laugh.

"Okay so maybe i'm a little hungry"

"I'll go make us something" i chuckled as i slipped from his arms and headed to the kitchen.

"You're the best, i love you" he called out making me turn to him with a smile.

"I love you too".

Over the next few weeks Andy and Laurie tried to make Jacobs home life as normal as possible. They hired him a tutor, his 2nd grade teacher who had now retired....It had kept Jacob occupied.

When he wasn't working on school work he would be in his room playing computer games.

I had been spending a lot of time at the Barber house after Andy told me he felt better with me around, i also became good friends with Laurie. We'd often make lunch and evening meals together before Andy would drive me home. He would sometime stays the night if he didnt have to be anywhere early, It was nice just to have some alone time with him.

Laurie had decided to go back to work today so i had offered to help Andy get dinner ready. We were nearly finished with everything when Andy noticed the time.

"Laurie's usually home by now, i hope her day went okay" Andy said quietly as he wiped off his hands.

"Maybe she just had a lot to catch up on, she's been away for a while"

"Yeah maybe, i'm just gonna go check on Jake. You okay here for a few minutes?"

"Im fine, go" i chuckled shaking my head. Andy pressed a quick kiss to my lips and headed upstairs to check on Jacob. After a few minutes i heard Andy come back downstairs and head out to the front porch, Jacob came into the kitchen giving me a quick smile.

"My dad said to help set the table"

"Thats great, this is nearly ready" i smiled at him, Jacob had been a bit quiet around me when we first met but he was more comfortable around me now.

"You okay?" I asked noticing that he seemed a little moody.

"Yeah, its just my dad...."

"Oh no, what did he do?"

"Got pissed at me for playing video games online"

"He's just looking out for you Jake, he knows how all this works. What they look into, the things that can go against you. I know you probably think he's being over the top but he just wants to protect you"

"I know, it just sucks" he said sadly.

While Jacob set the table Laurie came rushing in.

"Hey mom" Jacob greeted her with a smile.

"I'll be right there" she replied before rushing upstairs. Jacob shrugged and continued to set out plates.

When Andy didn't come back inside i went looking for him, Laurie had come back downstairs looking like she had been crying... what was going on?

As i walked outback to the yard i saw Andy standing in front of the garage door.

"MURDERER ROT IN HELL" had been spray painted in huge black letters.

"Oh my god...." i gasped holding a hand over my mouth, no wonder Laurie had been upset "Jesus christ Andy....."

"Im so sick of this shit" Andy mumbled under his breath as he tried to scrub off the hateful words.

"Have you got another brush, i'll help"

"You don't have to....."

"I want to" i smiled up at him, Andy pressed a quick kiss to my lips and then went to find an extra brush. We scrubbed for what seemed like hours and we still couldn't get it off, the letters faded to a dull grey but you could still see what it said.... at least it wasn't as visible to anyone passing by on the street now though.

I reheated some dinner for me and Andy and we sat down to eat together, Jake had gone up to his room like usual and Laurie had gone up to bed to read (i think she just wanted to be alone).

"Laurie seemed like she was struggling with everything today" i said quietly to Andy taking a mouthful of my beer, he nodded slowly picking up his own beer.

"Yeah, she was told not to go back to work..... they can't risk being associated with her"

"Thats rough, that would have been a great distraction for her for a few hours"

"It would have been good for her but i get why they done it. This whole thing with Jacob hasn't just ruined his life....."

"I know" i reached over taking Andy's hand "but you're handling it great"

Andy scoffed looking at me with a smirk.

"Im a mess....."

"You're not a mess, you're strong for Laurie and Jake, you support them through all this bad shit"

"Then i fall apart when i'm with you" he scoffed.

"But thats okay, they don't need to know that and i don't mind..... i'm here for you"

"I love you"

"I love you too" i smiled before taking a another mouthful of my beer "so, what was in the file...." i pointed my bottle towards a file Andy had placed on the table.

"Duffy came through on that Patz file" he cracked a smile.

"She did?..... huh maybe you guys are friends after all".

"Maybe".

The following day Andy and Laurie were meeting with a specialist in genetic inheritance and behaviour to discuss Jacob, Joanna had suggested it was a good idea just incase they tried to use everything with Andy's father against Jake. While they were gone i stayed with Jacob at the house while his tutor came by. I was sat on the sofa watching a rerun of Friends to pass the time when my phone vibrated in my pocket. When i looked at who was calling i was surprised to see who it was.... Frank.

"Hello?" I answered quietly so i didn't disturb Jacobs lesson.

"Hey beautiful, how are you?"

"Im good... how are you?" I hated how his voice still gave me butterflies!!

"Not too great, i miss you"

"Frank....."

"I know, i know. You're with Andy now.... i... i missed my chance...."

"Frank are you wasted?" I asked catching the sound of his slurring.

"No baby of course not"

I sighed shaking my head, if he hadn't been drinking that must mean he was high.

"Look i cant talk right now...."

"Can i call you later?"

"Im not sure thats such a good idea"

"Please? i just wanna talk"

"Fine, i wont be home til after 9pm...."

"Thats fine i'll call you then"

"Okay, bye Frank" i quickly ended the call tucking my phone in my pocket, that phone call should be interesting.

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier @fairlightswiftly @hiddelstannerbarnes

Rose Coloured Glasses taglist: @readermia @princess-evans-addict @jennmurawski13 @matsumama @ex-bloodjunkie @kaithezaftig @ms-betsy-fangirl

#sebastian stan #chris evans #bucky barnes #sebastianstan #captain america #steve rogers #sebstan #defending jacob #endings beginnings #eb!frank #andy barber #andy barber x reader #eb!frank x reader #reader insert #rose coloured glasses

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arukou-arukou · 4 years

Text

Just A Really Very Intelligent System

Been thinking about this one for a while. Finally managed to write it. Rating: T for “Language.” (It just kinda slipped out.) Characters: Tony Stark & JARVIS

----

He is in one of the most dangerous situations of his life trying to save the whole freaking universe by watching a man the size of a dust bunny wriggle into the hairline of his younger self, so it would be really, really bad if he happened to have a heart attack. Older him that is. But he nearly does go into cardiac arrest when he hears an old friend in his ear.

“Verify immediately. Failure to verify will result in an activation of level one security protocols.”

His tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth and his palms are sweating, but somehow he manages to whisper out: “Edwin-12-19-91-4-8-47-Alpha Override.”

“Override accepted. Sir?”

“Hey, J.”

“Sir, you have imbued me with considerable computing power, and yet never did you prepare me for the possibility of you being in two places at once.”

“Yeah, about that. You haven’t said anything to Mr. Quipster over there, have you?”

“Not as yet, Sir. You wish me to keep it that way?”

“It would really help me out, buddy.”

“Very well, Sir.”

Tony wants to stay longer, to talk, to warn JARVIS, to cry, but he has places to be, things to do, planets to save. Scott’s safely positioned, so Tony yeets himself out of the building to get to the ground floor. He doesn’t know why he thought that would make JARVIS disappear.

“I see, Sir, that your proclivities for leaping before looking are unchanged.”

Another near heart attack--he’s gradually phased Friday out of his ears now that the nanotech is connected directly to his nervous system, so he’s not exactly used to AI voices anymore--but he recovers more quickly. “You’re always there to catch me, J.”

“And yet my systems are not present in your suit, Sir. I see codal remnants of system designation FRIDAY, but nothing of myself.”

Tony remains silent. This is such a terrible time to be feeling all the feelings. He spots a grunt who looks more or less unimportant and knocks the guy out. Part of him wants to warn SHIELD about their shit security, but then again, this guy’s probably Hydra and he deserves every bruise he gets. He senses JARVIS in his systems, a ghost in the shell.

“You no longer have the reactor. And if I’m not mistaken, that is gray in your hair. So you are not my Sir.”

“Well, yes and no.”

“I suppose it would destroy the spacetime continuum for you to divulge the truth to me.”

“You’re too smart for me, J,” Tony grunts as he yanks on the bullet-proof tac vest. “It’s kind of a long story, and while I technically have all the time in the world, I also really, really don’t.”

He sidles into the lobby and looks toward his personal elevator, waiting for the Avengers to appear. J is quiet so long Tony wonders if he’s being preoccupied by...well, just about anything. Damaged internal systems, a Cap copy on the loose, a second Hulk out there, panicked calls from Pepper. But then JARVIS speaks again.

“Regardless of the tale, I must conclude that you are from the future, and I am no longer by your side.”

Tony is fucking choking up. He was not ready for this. It didn’t even cross his mind. And the fucking elevator is opening. There’s Pierce, the rat bastard, trying to collect the Tesseract.

“I hope I did not disappoint you, Sir.”

“Never, J. Never.” Fuck fuck fuck, he’s nearly crying and now Scott is on the com waiting for the go-ahead. Tony channels his pain into panic and orders his own cardiac arrest.

“Sir, what are you--”

Thank god, his younger self is on the ground and that’s apparently all the distraction J needs to abandon older Tony. Tesseract incoming. Tony grabs it and starts going and--

Blinking stars out of his eyes he watches as Loki makes off with the key, the thing they most needed, the damn stone that started all of this way back when Cap was a starry-eyed beanpole in World War II. He has just biffed saving the entire damn universe because of an overgrown Star Trek reject with anger issues. And now he has a migraine to boot.

Frozen in shame and horror, Tony watches as Thor attempts ill-advised cardiac electro-stim. Scott’s somewhere out there, yammering in Tony’s ear on the private channel, but all of that is just a buzzing.

“Sir? Sir. Sir!”

And J. Maybe Tony should cry now. It certainly feels like the time for it. One of the other SHIELD grunts is making her way toward him, so he staggers to his feet, waving her off and limping toward the door. Think. Think, brain, think. Tony is a genius, the man who invented time travel, the man who miniaturized arc reactor technology. A spaceship? SHIELD’s probably got one somewhere. Maybe they could chase after Loki.

“SIR!” How many times JARVIS has shouted his title, Tony has no idea, but this one is so loud it sets his teeth on edge.

“Yeah, J? Kind of busy here.”

“Giving yourself a heart attack, Sir?” JARVIS was programmed to be cool and calm in all circumstances, but Tony could swear that sentence was uttered with seething rage.

“I’m fine. Look at me.”

“Only by some measure of infinitesimal luck, Sir. Perhaps I should ask you to verify your identity one more time, as you seem intent on killing yourself.”

“No, J. I’ve actually got a lot of reasons to live. And so does he. Promise.” Tony is so tired. Was being an Avenger always this exhausting? Or is it just that he’s bumped over that damnable big 5-0? And Cap’s gonna ream him too. That’s never any fun.

“I’m...glad to hear it, Sir.”

And fuck it. It’s not like this will alter Tony’s timeline anyway. This reality is now on a different trajectory thanks to Severus Snape Lite. “Her name’s Morgan. You’d love her, J. Just turned four. She got my hair. Hope to god she didn’t get my personality.”

“Do I meet her, Sir?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck it.

“J, you should dig a little deeper into SHIELD’s systems. Well, actually, a lot deeper. And the Pentagon while you’re at it. And track down Maya Hansen from that conference in 1999 and poach her from whatever outfit she’s working for. Immediately. Make sure she brings all her vet patients with her. And, uh, when I start talking about a suit of armor around the world, steer me away from anything called Ultron. And if I make it anyway, you delete the fuck out of that system file. Have Bruce back you up. He’s more sensible.”

“Sir, I don’t--”

“And have me make back-ups. At least three extra farms of servers for you. On different continents. And all those SHIELD files? Make sure Cap and Fury get them. And there’s...there’s this guy. This assassin. Brainwashed. He’s, uh, I think he’s on ice in Uzbekistan right now. If you could rescue him, it’ll...it’ll fix a lot of things.”

“Should you really--”

“And, please. Please please.”

Tony is not crying. He’s not. It’s just all the dust and debris in the air. Good lord, he’s probably going to die of cancer anyway. And all those first responders. Did he start a fund for them?

“Start a medical fund for the first responders on the ground today. And start leaning on Congressmen to make medical plans for them. You know how long they take to get anything done. Oh, and Stern. There are incriminating photos of Stern with some young ladies on South Beach. See if you can dig those up. Flowers for Pep. And a box of chocolates. And a dry martini with extra olives.”

Tony slumps into a burned out car, staring at nothing. He didn’t save his universe, but maybe he can save this one. His eyes are still irritated, burning red and itchy. He resists the urge to scrub at them, not wanting to grind in anymore dust.

“Are you quite finished, Sir?”

“Yeah. Actually, no. I love you, J.”

Silence. Ah. That’s stumped him. Maybe he’ll go back to tending his new posse of baby chicks now.

“I know you probably do not believe me capable of it, Sir, but I love you, too.”

His son. The only one he’ll ever make, but not the only one he’s lost. His son loves him. Tony’s throat is full of dust, too. Funny how that happens. He tries to swallow it down, but it only congeals into a hard lump. He puts a hand over his mouth to try and hold back any choking sounds. “I...I know you do, J.”

“As to your orders, I shall do what I can. It is my duty to protect you, Sir, and I would very much like to meet your little Morgan.”

“She might not exist here. I might’ve just changed everything.”

“If there is one thing I have learned from all my years with you, Sir, it is that perhaps such a thing as fate exists after all. Even mathematically speaking. And if that is the case, I cannot imagine a universe in which you are not fated to this happiness.”

Tony laughs, if only to keep from crying harder. And he is. Crying, that is. As if he was fooling anyone. Happiness? Him? Happy people don’t wake in the night screaming for a pile of dust in their hands. Happy people don’t spend hours coordinating relief efforts for countries whose entire infrastructural support has collapsed. Happy people don’t hurl themselves back in time, driven by guilt and horror at all the wrongs in the world. J, brilliant, wonderful AI that he is, seems to sense the dark turn of Tony’s thoughts.

“And if you yourself cannot believe in this thing, Sir, then I shall just have to do everything in my power to provide it for you.”

Another guffaw, but at least his eyes are drying a little now. “God, I miss you, J.”

“I believe your small teammate is approaching, Sir. If I may inquire, was it the Tesseract you were seeking?”

“You mean the stupid blue cube of doom? That’s the one.”

“And you say you have the means to time travel?”

“Yeah, J. We do. But only enough to get back to our time.”

“A limitation has never stopped you before, Sir.” JARVIS sounds thoughtful, as if he’s forming a plan.

Tony would ask him what he’s scheming at, but just at that moment, Scott embiggens himself and slumps into the car with Tony. That road is closed, then. They are out of options. Out of Pym particles. Out of time. Out of hope.

Until they aren’t. Just as Tony is setting his device for their new destination, J pipes up again, for Tony’s ears only. “You say you miss me, Sir. Then allow me to give you a small gift.”

Tony is pressing the buttons, and even if they weren’t already shrinking into the quantum tunnel, he wouldn’t be able to ask exactly what J means. It’s only when he and Cap arrive in 1970 that he has his first gleaning. In his ear, a voice. One so unexpected he nearly jumps into Cap’s arms. “Hello, System Administrator Anthony Edward Stark. I am System Designation EDWIN. ‘Eagerly Deployed With Intent to Neutralize Loneliness.’ I am told to tell you the “L” is silent and invisible. How may I best serve you today, Sir?”

Cap is staring at Tony like Tony’s lost his mind. And maybe he has. He’s been bugged by his own damn operating system. With a bouncing baby AI. And if Steve finds out, he’ll probably have a conniption about the spacetime continuum or something. So the only logical thing Tony can do is say, “Let’s find some Pym particles.”

“Acknowledged, Sir. Commencing scanning.”

-----

(In this reality EDWIN saves the fuck out of Tony’s life and everyone lives happily ever after and EDWIN builds JARVIS from scratch so he’s back or something, okay? Okay.)

#writing #fanfiction #tony stark #jarvis

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oh-so-scenarios · 4 years

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ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪɴɢs...♠| 08

⤖ ᴡʜᴏ ʜᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇs? Jᴜɴɢ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ ɪs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ʜɪs ᴍᴀғɪᴀ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇʀᴇɴᴅɪᴘɪᴛʏ ᴏғ ʜɪs sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ…ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

⤖ Mᴀғɪᴀ Lᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Hᴏsᴇᴏᴋ x ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ Fᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, Aɴɢsᴛ, sᴍᴜᴛ, sᴏᴜʟᴍᴀᴛᴇ!ᴀᴜ,

A/N: Unedited. This is kind of a filler chapter. Finally entering Phase 2 of this story. Lol yall don’t know what that means, but my goodness did it take a while. Please ignore any typos!

(Word Count: 6.1K)

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Y/N:

He hates me. I know it. I crossed the line. That’s probably what I did. I kissed him on the cheek? I confessed my feelings and probably made him even more uncomfortable? Way to go Y/n! Way to go!

It’s been 7 days since the Charity Gala, and while things were buzzing in the news about the transportation company that was being sued for the “loss” of the real artworks, Hoseok has been ignoring me like the plague. Or so I think.

Jennie and I are at the headquarters as much as we are at the hospital and in each visit, and I haven’t seen Hoseok once. No one said anything about him, or where he might be, so I can only assume I angered him. My heart feels...crushed? I thought there was a warm moment, a real moment somewhere in that night of fake hugs and smiles.

It must have been the alcohol getting to my head, thinking that something was...beginning. It was silent as Jennie and I cleaned up the operating area, the patient still not woken as he rested in the recovery bed.

This is 3rd surgery Jennie and I have performed for the black market. I seem to be the only uncomfortable, seeing as Jennie hums calmly while stripping the dirty gloves off her hands and slipping off the disposable plastic apron to reveal the dark blue scrubs that I also wore. I copied her motions, slipping my gloves off and throwing the apron into the trash bin.

I took a deep breath and placed my hands on my hips. After the patient was awake and well enough to leave, we’ll have to come back and clean the area better.

I looked over at Jennie who stared back at me with a knowing look, “Jungkook said he was buying fried chicken for everyone.” She spoke softly, glancing towards the knocked-out patient. I wordlessly walked past her to the sink, washing my hands with soap and drying them off.

I moved to the side, giving her the space to do the same. Her hair was pulled up into a high bun, and though I nagged her about that being inappropriate for surgery, she looked like a chich college student.

I stood by the sink waiting for her while she hummed to herself. She’s been very happy lately. It’s because of Jaehyun. He makes her happy, and the love radiating from her was depressing. She cheered me on, telling me that the kiss on the cheek was a brave move. It was a great move! I was being assertive!

But why do I feel like shit? Not a single text, not a call or even an order passed down to Jungkook. Hoseok is missing in action, and no one wants to admit it. If he didn’t hate me before, he hates me now.

We walked out of the room and out the lobby area, finding a chaotic scene. Six men seated around the large round table, fussing and bickering with boxes of fried chicken sat between them. I snickered at the scene, watching Jin stood from his seat to yell at Taehyung.

“You said you didn’t like Lemon pepper! Why are they over on your side!” His voice echoed through the place, while his eyes widen. He shook his head vigorously and his face turned a bright red. Giggles emerged in the room as Taehyung pushed the basket of chicken across the table.

I quietly walked up to a seat beside Namjoon who showed me a kind smile.

“Done with the surgery already?” Jimin chimes. I nod, glancing over the different types of chicken. Jennie sits about 3 seats away from me, digging into the food right away. Namjoon pushes a basket of some wings, silently offering it to me.

“Is Hoseok avoiding me?” I asked softly, I was hoping they wouldn’t hear me. That the loud smacking of lips as they ate would drown out my words, but everyone stopped to look at me. Yoongi’s brows furrowed and he looked towards the others as if they had the answer.

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked from beside me. I sighed, leaning forward, looking over the wings once more.

“I haven’t seen him since the gala, and he’s not ordering me around like he usually does…” I trail off as I realize I sound like a whining child.

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at me, chewing the last of the food in his mouth before speaking.

“Boss traveled Y/n, I thought you knew,” Jungkook said a matter of a fact. My mouth made a small O shape, embarrassment consuming my whole body.

“He traveled?” I questioned, looking to Jin who was nodding slowly.

“He left 2 days after the gala, he has some business in Japan. I told him to tell you, but I guess he didn’t.” Jungkook adds with his eyes focused on the wing in his hands. His gaze flickered up to me knowingly.

Jungkook hasn’t asked me what we were arguing about at the gala when he interrupted, the ride home is silent, while I sniffled and wiped my tears. I can’t be certain why I was crying. Maybe it was because he thought so little of my feelings? Or he found it so hard to believe that someone could like him?

“Why would Boss avoid you?” Namjoon asked, before pointing at the wings he set in front of me. It was silent order to start eating or he was going to take them for himself.

I reached forward and grabbed one wing, twisting it around with my fingers. I can’t be sure what the flavor is, but that didn’t matter right now. The room grew quiet, some chewing and shuffling containers being all that’s heard.

I sighed, “I kissed him--”

“You kissed boss?!” Jungkook exclaims in...excitement?

“--On the cheek!” I add quickly, not wanting him to jump to conclusions.

“Wow noona” Jungkook said with his wide eyes gleaming, “and what did he do?

I shrugged, “Nothing. He didn’t say or do anything.” I took a bite of the wing, looking up to see all the guys at the table smiling slightly.

“So what were you so worried about?” Taehyung voices as he reaches for a napkin to clean his mouth.

“I thought I crossed the line? I didn’t want to anger him or come on too strong.” I was hesitant to say anymore. I only really talk to Jungkook. This is the first time I’m really having a conversation with anyone. Other than Yoongi of course. I didn’t feel uncomfortable though.

The older guys, Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi, weren’t strangers; but they certainly weren’t close friends. They work the closest with Hoseok, so I don't see them as often as I do Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. They do the more of the details for Hoseok. They aren’t as eager to share as the younger guys.

“Hoseok will only protest never encourage.” When Seokjin says it like he’s solved the case, my brows furrow. I’m not following.

After meeting my unclear facial expression, he sighed and leaned back in his seat.

“He didn’t say anything, so he didn’t hate it. If he didn’t like it, he’d let you know for sure.”

“That’s just how Hoseok is.” Yoongi adds simply, “And if you are so curious to what he’s up to, just call him.”

“Call him?”

“Duh. If you’re bothering him, he won’t even pick up. You’ve already gone ahead to do something bold like kissing him, you can’t get bashful now.” Yoongi starts to work on another wing, taking a big bite before reaching for the open water bottle on the table. He pushes his hair back, despite the thick headband that was already feeding that purpose.

Jennie hadn’t spoken this whole time, too busy stuffing her face with wings. I kept eating while she wiped her mouth with her arm, my eyes widening at the uncharacteristic behavior. Jaehyun is rubbing off on her and that’s clear. Jennie used to be ...stiff. A bit stuck up but not enough to come off as a bitch.

She had high standards and expected only the finer things, yet she would also go with the flow of things, not wanting on the chance to experience something she could later brag about. Since meeting Jaehyun, she has loosened up in terms of the proper chip that was on her shoulder.

“I say,” She takes a sip of water, but I’m pretty sure that wasn’t her water to take.

She repeats herself, “I say you keep on with what you’re doing. Be forward. You have to be with a laid back guy like Hoseok. Call him, holding his hand, kiss his cheek and all that. If he says he doesn’t like it, stop.”

Taehyung claps his hands together, “We won’t say anything about it and act oblivious! Just do what feels right and we’ll act like it’s nothing new!”

Taehyung pumps his fight up into the air, the whole action being something you’d expect if he was drunk.

“Operation ‘help Boss understand Y/n’s feelings’ is a go!”

“He understands,” I mumble, “I told him that I liked that despite his lifestyle.”

Taehyung shook his head, “No Y/n...we need him to understand!” He deepened his voice on the word ‘understand’.

“Hyung is very smart, but he’s also...dense when it comes to things like this. For him to understand, he needs to see actions. Once he feels like he’s got a handle on the situation, he’ll possibly respond or make a move.”

I chuckled, “You really know Hoseok really well.”

Taehyung kisses his teeth, “I’ve been studying the mystery that is Jung Hoseok for 8 years now.”

~!~

It sounded so easy when the others were talking about it. Call him. Don’t text him, but call him. But now that I am lying on my bed, the butterflies in my stomach were overwhelming. I look at the clock on my wall to see that it’s nearing 10pm, I’m sure he’s awake.

I grabbed my phone, scrolling and finding his contract. I pressed his name and watched the screen change as the number dialed. I placed the phone on speaker, staring up at the ceiling while I waited, hoping to hear his voice.

A few more rings later, and it went to voicemail. I sighed, hanging up before it could start recording. Of course, he’s busy. According to Namjoon, Hoseok is going for his actual investment work. One day I’ll get Hoseok to tell me more about his investment company. It’s thriving and doing well.

I turned onto my side, sleep suddenly growing heavy on my eyes. It’s been a long day and I was finally feeling the tiring work of the day while my body relaxed and went slack against my bed and pillow.

I don’t remember how long my eyes were closed before I felt a buzzing vibrating the bed. My eyes fluttered open, and though my vision was blurry, I could make out the caller ID.

I grabbed my phone quickly, swiping to answer and hitting the speaker button. I set it down on my bed, staring at the black screen while soft breathing sounded through the iPhone speaker.

“Doc.” He said quietly. He sounded bored, with no sense of urgency or sleepiness. I looked at the clock again. It is 11:34pm.

“Hi.” I croaked, eyes widen at my own voice. I cleared my throat as quietly as I could.

“I woke you up.” He said, almost sounding sorry.

I shook my head slowly as if he could see me lying there in my bed, with my hair a mess and my baggy T-shirt and shorts.

“I don’t mind. I don’t work tomorrow.” I answered. There a beat of silence, and I can hear cars zooming in the background.

“You called me?” He sounded annoyed, not because I called, but the fact that I wasn’t speaking.

“Yeah,” I replied softly, “I didn’t realize you traveled.”

“I guess I didn’t tell you, it was sort of last minute. I had to handle some business.” He replied.

“Oh, I see.” I pause for a moment, “I hope I’m not bothering you when you’re busy.” I rush out that last bit, my nerves getting to me.

“No, you’re not.”

“Ok, cool. Umm...how much longer are you staying in Japan?” My desperate attempts at preventing an awkward silence.

“Why?” I could hear the smirk in his voice, “Do you miss me?” He chuckles soon after, showing that he was teasing. I bit on my bottom lip nervously as he laughed. I gripped my bedsheets in on hand and closed my eyes, thinking of how I should be bold. Without opening my eyes I spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“I miss you a lot.” Hearing the words leave my lips caused my skin to tingle. My eyes remain closed while I listen to Hoseok on the other line. His laughter dies down and I heard a slight shuffle. He doesn’t speak for a short time, leaving me in my dread and fear.

“I’ll be back in 4 days,” His teasing tone was no more, he spoke simply and plainly. My shoulders drop in relief. He’s ignoring my statement, which I regret even saying so him ignoring it is for the best. I heard more shuffling and what sounded like a car door closing.

My eyes stay closed as I speak again.

“Good,” My voice is light, sleepiness taking hold of me again. I yawned lightly, and we sit in silence for a little while.

“Go to bed, Y/n.” Sounding like he was ordering a child. But I was too tired to say something smart.

“Good night Hoseok, sorry for bothering you,” I muttered.

He takes in a deep breath, sounding like he made up his mind on something, “Y/n?”

I hum in reply, irritation rising as he was keeping me from falling asleep.

“Whenever you start missing me, just call me.” He said the words casually, but he spoke quietly this time. My eyes snapped open in surprise. He cleared his throat, showing discomfort with his own words. He’s nervous? I looked at my phone in time to see the screen flash to black as he hung up the phone without a goodbye.

What...did...he--

He said to call him whenever I start missing him? I laid there with my eyes wide and my mind empty. My heart racing to the point of my vision vibrating as I stared blankly at the wall opposite of me.

The conversation was short, awkward and almost forced but...it wasn’t awful. I would like to think that he enjoyed our conversation. He also didn’t say anything about the kiss or the gala. But it was nice to have a small normal chat.

Whenever you start missing me, just call me.

My lips turned up into a shy smile, “He’s too cute.” I say to no one in particular.

To say, nothing had changed...wrong. But to say things had changed would also be wrong. Hoseok hasn’t brought up the gala, the kiss or even the investigation being conducted on the small delivering company that is being accused of swapping the real art with fake art.

Hoseok wasn’t really attempting to make conversation, but he wouldn’t suggest hanging up whenever we sat in silence. He comes back from Japan tomorrow, but I’ve called him 2 more times in the past 3 days. Usually later at night, when he is on his way back to the hotel. Calling him the second time was harder than calling the first time.

Whenever you start missing me, just call me. What was that? Where did that come from? He doesn’t make mention of it again, and neither do I. But it feels like his words loomed over us with every conversation we had. Like he wanted to say something about it but was waiting for me to bring it up.

I stared up at the ceiling as I heard the shuffling of bedsheets and blankets. Unlike the other times I called, Hoseok was actually in his hotel bed this time. Since our conversations were barely conversations. I’d ask him how his day was, I’d get a one-word answer followed by me desperately trying to keep the flow of things going. I wanted to try and dig deeper. If he doesn’t want to tell me. He won’t.

“Hoseok?” My voice sounds quiet and lacks confidence. When he replies he sounds distracted and I can faintly hear his fingers tapping away at his phone screen.

“Yeah?” He sounds distracted.

“So you took over for your father when you were 16?” I asked timidly, a slight tremble in my voice. I heard another shuffle, with a small sigh following after.

“Yeah,” He answered, “No big deal.”

He was trying to brush it off, but I wasn’t going to move on that quickly.

“It must have been scary...dealing with the death of your father, but also being ushered into such a big role.”

“I don’t want your pity.” He hissed. My heart dropped a bit, feeling the peaceful chat turning dour.

“I’m not pitying you, I just imagine it must have been hard.”

“I managed, I had the guys to help me out. I did what was expected of me and I turned out fine.”

I opened my mouth to reply but he kept speaking, so I sat and listened.

“My dad was sick, and I knew what was coming so I was ready for it. I prepared and was able to move forward.”

“How do you prepare for something like that? Taking such a big role I mean.”

He groans, “I don’t know. I just stopped hanging out with friends, I stopped my hobbies and things like that. My relationship with the guys also changed. It was...rough.”

My eyes perked up, “You knew the guys before?”

Hoseok lets out a humorless chuckle, a bitterness underlying the action.

“They were my best friends before I became their boss.” He sounded sad, and I felt sad as well. There was a longing in his voice. How much as his relationship with the boys changed? They seem...close, right? I wouldn’t exactly call their relationship the typical friendship, but I wouldn’t say it’s lacking.

Before I respond, ready to reassure Hoseok, a thought enters my mind. I don’t know what their friendship was before, and how or why did the guys agree to do such work for Hoseok? Were they already aware of Hoseok’s father and the lifestyle he had?

“They’re still your best friends now.” I inject, wondering why he was speaking in the past tense.

He scoffs, “Nah, I wouldn’t agree.”

“Why?”

“They just work for me at this point, I doubt they like me anymore.” The statement sounded so insecure. My brows furrowed and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The flashbacks to Taehyung’s cheeky smile as he spoke about Hoseok were battling the words I just heard.

“What?” I shake my head, “What would make you think that? Has the boss, employee overshadowed the friendship? Is that what you think?”

He doesn’t respond, leaving me with his calm breathing as a sign of his distress.

“I don’t think it’s that way at all Hoseok! If you feel that way, I think you should talk to them about it.”

When he still refuses to speak, my heart grows heavier. Does he go around just thinking everyone holds some sort of animosity, does he? The conversation at the gala makes sense, and a light bulb flickers on above my head.

Do you really like me?

“Why are you so keen on having everyone detest you?” My tone comes out a bit rougher than I intended, but it doesn’t seem like he noticed.

“My line of work doesn’t really let me be a people person.”

“But that’s work, isn’t it? There’s a time where you gotta shut the work mindset off...right?”

Another beat of silence, my own breathing sounding louder than Hoseok’s. Another shuffle from his end and a grunt. I’m guessing he was changing his position on the bed.

“Go to sleep, doc. You’ll see me tomorrow.” That’s all he said and the line disconnected. He hung up.

Once again I’m left lying in my bed with my thumping heart and my thoughts. What a ball of secrets Jung Hoseok is. Just what is going on in that head and heart of his?

~!~

“We did the best we could,” I said to Jennie as we walked down the hospital hallway. We trailed behind Dr. Lee who was looking down at his clipboard. Our heels click against the tile floor, as we zoom towards room 323. We were on our way to check on a patient who just woke from a surgery we performed the day before.

We already knew this was going to be a rough one. A terrible car accident has left a couple in a sad state. The wife, an older woman in her early 50’s had damage to her legs, leaving her partially paralyzed. Only temporarily. With proper physical therapy, Ms. Cho will be able to walk again.

As for Mr. Cho, he is stuck in a sleep-like-state. A coma, one could say, however it is believed that he can hear his surroundings. Though we did surgery to stop the internal bleeding, the seriousness of his injuries can’t be known until he awake.

I glanced at my outfit, the yellow dress seeming too bright for the depressing atmosphere we were going to enter. However, the yellow dress was significant to my mood. The happy butterflies floating around my stomach were clouding my focus.

It was a dress Jennie gifted me a few months back, and it sat in my closet collecting dust. The dress stopped right at my knees, it’s shaping being form-fitting with being skin tight. The hem of the skirt ruffled out, giving it a spring vibe. The whole dress was covered in white polka dots, less than you would regularly see for the pattern. The v neck wasn’t deep enough to be inappropriate, and the sort sleeves also had the same ruffle as the skirt hem. My white heels complimented the whole look.

When I strolled into work today, Jennie was sipping her coffee, only to have her eyes widen as she choked.

“Wow,” She breathed, “You look hot!” I cringed, gesturing my hands for her to bring her voice down. She was being too loud. A few nurses turned their eyes, raising their eyebrows.

“Mr. Jung must be returning today,” one of the nurses at the help desk muttered loudly, “I heard he hasn’t been at any board meetings because he traveled.” I turned my head towards the voice to meet a teasing set of eyes.

I stared at her and she shrugged, “Am I wrong?” She giggled looking me up and down. The other nurses giggled along with her.

“It is that obvious?” I whispered to Jennie. She took another sip from her Starbucks cup before she gave me a thorough once over. She takes a look at my outfit, a cheesy smile pulling at her lips while her eyes moved up to my face.

“Oh hell yeah.” She chimes. I grunt, covering my face with both hands.

“He’s going to think I’m such a try-hard.” I groaned then adjusted my white doctor’s coat to try to cover the dress more.

Jennie bites her lip, the red lipstick that painted them not smudging one bit. She brought her coffee cup up to her lips as if to take a sip. She raised her shoulders and turned her body to the side as if she was hiding something from me with her body.

“Y/n, I’d be more worried that you’d make him hard.” She whispers just loud enough for me to hear. My face heats up and a coy expression grazes my face.

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so!” She exclaimed, winking at me.

We stood there waiting for Mr. Lee to arrive. He told us to meet him here at noon, and it’s already 12:23. The longer we stood there talking, the more I noticed glances my way from patients and fellow workers.

“Is the dress inappropriate for work?” My face scrunches up and my insecure questions slip from my lips.

“No, not at all. You’re just giving off different vibes than usual. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, you look good.”

Before I could reply, Jennie spoke again, “You talked to him on the phone yesterday?”

“Yup,” I said popping the p, “The conversation gets...better. It was very weird at first but it’s smoother now. You can tell he doesn’t usually do that kind of thing.”

Jennie nodded in an approving manner, “That’s sweet.” She smiled and took another long sip of her coffee from tossing the empty cup into the nearby trash can. She turned back around just as Dr. Lee rounded the corner.

“Took him long enough,” Jennie said under her breath. She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets, giving me a better look of her outfit. She wore a simple black turtleneck, the fabric looking too thin to protect from any cold, and a sage green skirt that was shorter than my dress with black heels. Her red lipstick popped and her slicked-back ponytail with the side part made her look so slick.

Jennie takes more risks with her outfits than I do. She dances right on the line of a provocative and voguish. No wonder this amazing dress I’m wearing is something she bought me. My hair was down today, Jennie telling me that pulled the outfit together more.

“Sorry for being late ladies. I-” Dr. Lee’s voice catches in his throat as he looked up from his clipboard. He gawked at me, blinking his eyes repeatedly and racking his eyes down my body. He snaps out of his trance not a second later, looking back to my face and shamelessly smiling at me.

“Dr. L/n, you are...breath-taking.” He said honestly.

I roll my eyes, “Thank you, Dr. Lee.”

“Let me take you out to dinner.”

I falsely give it some thought, “Mh, sure! I’ll be sure to bring Mr. Jung along.”

His smile drops at the mention of Hoseok, but the flirty nature in his eyes doesn’t change.

“Well, I’ll always be here.” He said with a wink, looking down at his clipboard again.

“And that’s unfortunate.” Jennie jeered back.

And that’s how we ended up where we are now, marching down the hallway to deliver not so good news to an older lady. By the time we reached the door of room 323, yelling could be heard. A thin and harsh voice was shouting while the calm voice of a nurse battled on.

Dr. Lee opened the door and all the noise stopped.

“Ms. Cho.” Dr. Lee said as he stepped in and we followed.

“Where is my husband?!” She shouts.

Dr. Lee sighs, “Please Ms. Cho, give us some time to help you understand what is going on.”

After she yells on for a few more minutes, Dr. Lee manages to calm her down. Her chest rises and falls intensely as lays back in her hospital bed. Her brows were furrowed and she glowered at us. Her gaze shifted between the 3 of us. Dr. Lee is going to do most of the talking, and we were just here to give the details of the surgery and the results.

Jennie and I took some time to explain to Ms. Cho the results of her surgery along with the condition of her legs. We had to pause for a moment as she cried. I made sure to give her a tissue and tried my best to comfort her. After we finished updating her on her condition, came the hard news of her husband.

There is no easy way to break news like that. And it’s always hard to see how people handle news like this. One of the nurses rubbed her back as she sobbed. Her black hair falling into her face.

We were in there for quite some time, setting up her physical therapy appointments. Jennie was discussing with Dr. Lee while I spoke to the nurse regarding the changes to Ms. Cho’s care.

“Young lady,” Ms. Cho suddenly says to me, sniffling in the process. I look over at her, showing a small smile.

“I know you have many patients to take care of, and you probably hear this a lot. But...my husband is my everything. Please do whatever you can to save him. Money isn’t an issue.” It’s hard to believe this soft-spoken woman was the same angry voice shouting earlier.

Her bloodshot eyes were tired and sad, but in general, she looked young for her age. Her skin lacked wrinkles or any significant sign of aging.

I smiled at her, “Of course Ms. Cho, we will do our best.”

A small smile pulls at the corner of her lips and I watch her eyes move to my white coat, “Dr. L/n?” She reads my name.

I smile, “Yup, that’s me. Y/n L/n.”

“A lovely name for a lovely girl.” She says softly.

“Thank you so much, ma’am. I must say you’re also very beautiful.”

She laughs slightly, having it fade off into a sigh, “My beauty is all I have at this point.”

She throws a gentle punch at her legs, “These things are useless.” She mutters.

“Ms. Cho, you won’t be in a wheelchair forever, we can promise you that,” I assured her.

She looks towards Dr. Lee and back at me, “Is that guy any good? His rehearsed smile and strong cologne are throwing me off.”

I cough to hide my laughter while the nurse closes to me giggles with her hand covering her mouth.

“Dr. Lee is one of the finest doctors I know, he won’t lead you astray. His smile may be a practice, but if there’s one thing that is genuine, it’s his love for helping others.” She nods like my words put her doubts to rest.

“Thank you Dr. L/n, and I apologize for yelling at you earlier. That isn’t like me.” She looks down shyly, clearly embarrassed by her previous behavior.

“Don’t worry about it Mrs. Cho, I would have reacted the same way. You just went through a very disorienting series of events. I wouldn’t expect you to be poised.”

She smiles but soon gasps as if forgetting something.

“And the other driver? How is he?”

While I explained the conditions of the other driver, who also had serious injuries, Jennie and Dr. Lee came back from the corner of the room they were standing in.

“Mrs. Cho, you’ll be staying with us here at Seoul Sky Hospital for some time and we’re happy to have you. We will do whatever we can to give you a steady recovery; we will also work to look after your husband.” She nods, showing a strained smile. After a few more words, we start to shuffle out of the room. I am the last to leave, giving her a small smile.

~!~

I’m sitting in the passenger's seat of the car while Jennie sits in the back with her arms stretched up across the seat. Her back leans against the door while her eyes are closed. Jungkook is driving yelling at Jin who is on speakerphone.

“Boss agreed to buy dinner, and you wanna eat chicken...again? Let’s get noodles!” Jungkook whines. I giggled as he pouts.

“Yah! He said we could order whatever! I’ll order chicken and you order noodles!”

“Why do we have to order from too different places?” Jungkook replies.

“Just figure something out!” Someone barks in the background. It sounds like Yoongi. I can just picture Hoseok sitting among the chaos.

I laughed at their banter, but it came out a bit chopped. My nerves were getting to me. I was quiet most of the ride, but just like everyone said, be bold. Do whatever feels right. What’s the worst that could happen? He could reject me? Embarrass me in front of all the guys, and make the atmosphere?

Yikes! I just cringed at the thought.

I shut the car door and followed behind Jungkook and Jennie as he did the regular door unlocking as well as the double doors. Everyone was in the “lobby” area. Jimin and Taehyung stood around Yoongi who sat at the circular table. They were clearly annoyed him, as he sat there with a blank face as they poked at him.

Jin sat a few sat away from Yoongi and had a smaller MacBook opened.

Namjoon stood in front of the chalkboard, writing and a few things, and beside him was Hoseok. My heart hammered a bit. I could see most of his back, and a bit of his side profile. He on the circular table, some papers in his hands. He was looking between the papers in his hand and the words that Namjoon was writing.

He wore an oversized red t-shirt, and grey joggers with black sneakers. He wore one of those fancy Rolex watches on his risk and his hair was a bit messy.

There’s that same old focused face of his.

Jungkook left my side, heading towards Jin who I guess was ordering food. Jennie gave me a knowing smile and nodded towards Hoseok. I walked further into the room, feeling self-conscious as I caught the guys' attention. I no longer had my white doctor’s coat to hide in.

One of the guys' whistle and I ducked my head down shyly. Namjoon turns around at the sound but Hoseok doesn’t seem to care.

“Hi everyone,” I said shyly as I got closer.

Everyone says their hellos, well everyone but Hoseok. Namjoon smiled at me, his gaze flickering to Hoseok quickly. Namjoon turned back to the blackboard and continued with what he was writing.

Jennie also went about greeting everyone, saying her hellos before taking a seat at the table. She leans back and grins while crossing her arms. I act oblivious to the fact that everyone was secretly waiting for me to approach Hoseok. I walk around the table, ending up on his right side.

“Hey,” I said softly.

“Hey,” Hoseok replies pausing for a beat before looking at me. I don’t miss the way his eyelashes flutter and his eyes flickered down my body quickly.

“How was your flight?” I asked just as his eyes met mine again. His eyes were narrowed

“It was good.” Since he was seated on the table, his line of sight was my face, making us the same height at that moment. He refocuses on what Namjoon is writing.

There’s that warmth I always feel when he’s around. His presence is so...comforting.

I stare at his profile for a second more and just...do what feels right.

I take hold of his bicep while leaning forward and I did the same thing I did at the gala. I kissed him on the cheek. I pulled back, my face still close. He looks at me, eyes wide. I smile in response, almost wanting to laugh at the deer in the headlights expression that was on his face.

“I’m glad you’re back,” I spoke softly. His eyes, no longer wide, scanned over my face. His eyes narrowed and he looked at me...wantingly? My eyes widen in response. Whoa. I drew back completely, taking my hand off his bicep and noticing just how the atmosphere in the room changed.

I faced the board, flustered by Hoseok’s gaze on me.

“S-so what are you writing, Namjoon?” I asked quickly and my heart fluttered, wondering if Hoseok’s eyes were still on me. And they were. I could feel his eyes on the profile of my face. I drew in a deep breath, trying to seem interested in what Namjoon was telling me.

Something about someone going around Korea saying they are ‘Seok’ the mafia head and creating trouble. Someone is basically pretending to be Hoseok.

I nodded understandingly.

“Boss is looking hungry,” Taehyung sang playfully as he walked around the table.

Jennie snickers and to no one, in particular, says, “But not for food.”

I turn to look at Hoseok just in time to see his gaze move from me to the paper in his hand. He scoffs, in a light manner this time, and a small smile stays on his lips as he goes back to reading the document. Chuckles sound through the room at Jennie’s remark. Hoseok doesn’t say anything, focusing on the work at hand.

But the red color of his ears said it all.

“Cute.” I cooed to myself, and Hoseok heard, his red ears getting even brighter.

Hoseok, I’m gonna break those walls down Brick by brick.

♠----♠----♠-----♠

Thank you for reading! Like, reblog and let me know what you think :)) I also have a question for you, how do you view “Y/n” in terms of personality and character? Also any predictions?

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gustafsnightangel · 3 years

Text

Shattered Lives Ch 37 Pt 1

She woke to Gustaf tangled with her, his ridiculously long legs wrapped around hers, arms cradling her body against his like she was the most precious thing in the world. His face mirrored the peace he’d found in sleep with her last night. She knew what she had to do today, the restraining orders wouldn’t take much, but it would drag up toxic emotions for him and shove it firmly down his throat. Her only hope was that she could lessen the blow, offer him some level of protection. One day she thought as he trailed a finger down his jaw before fanning her fingers out over his chest, one day you’ll be free of her.

Her kiss, soft and tender, brought him to the surface, that curvy body entwined with his. “Mine.” He growled sleepily, his hold on her tightening, her quiet chuckle against his lips making him smirk. “All mine.” He breathed as he deepened the kiss, she was his kryptonite.

“I need to pee.” She chuckled. “And make some calls.” She didn’t want to elaborate and drag Ana into their bed, but she needed to get the ball rolling.

“Come back to bed after?” He mumbled into her hair still half asleep, the scent of her intoxicating as he nuzzled her neck.

“I’ll bring food.” She murmured.

“As long as you come with the food, I don’t care. I want you in bed with me all day.” His knuckles brushed her cheek and those eyes of glacial blue locked onto his. “I love you.” He said softly, his tone carried all the love he had for her.

“I know you do. I love you too, but I have to pee or it’s gonna get messy in here in a very unpleasant way.” She chuckled, kissing him chastely as he untangled his limbs from around her.

He’d drifted back to sleep by the time she’d donned her robe and walked out to the kitchen. Dragging her laptop from her office to sit on the kitchen island she started to organize her thoughts as the kettle boiled. Tea and notes, then phone calls.

She paced as she spoke to the police, seethed as they told her their investigation had stalled.

“You’ll have the paperwork to formally press charges by this afternoon.” She snapped. “You’re damn right we intend to. Now do your damn job and find her.”

He woke with a start at her tone, that ice cold fury unleashed on some unsuspecting soul. On any other day he’d revel in the lawyer surfacing, today it made his gut plummet. “Fucking Ana.” He sighed and punched the pillow. He could hear the anguish in her voice, the fear that the kids were in danger.

“I’m also serving her with a restraining order, several in fact, and accompanying injunctions. I have four children detective, I’m not giving her the chance to come after one of them, because if that happens from your departments lack of action, believe me when I tell you, this conversation will feel like I’ve congratulated you on the happiest day of your life.”

He couldn’t help the smirk, damn she was sexy as fuck when the lawyer came out to play. “Though she’s not playing this time around.” He murmured and continued to listen to her set the detective straight about how this was all going to happen.

“Put detective Leon Holmberg on the phone, right now.” She snapped, on her last fucking nerve. “I’ll wait.” She added sternly while he finished up whatever call he was on.

“Asshole.” She spat as the call was transferred. He wasn’t really, she was just pissed and emotional. Sure he was doing his job and she was emotionally invested in this, but stonewalling her wasn’t going to fly on any case, especially a personal one.

“Sildie? Sorry for the wait.” Leon’s gruff voice sounded as she sent an email off.

“It’s fine Leon, I just don’t appreciate the bullshit from your associate.” Her and Leon had crossed paths a few time in court with various cases, they were both straight shooters and got along well.

“He’s green, oh so green.” He chuckled. “Though your tongue lashing might have knocked some of that off him. He’ll learn. God were we ever that young?”

“Maybe twenty years ago.” She snorted. “And he’ll learn that stonewalling me isn’t in his best interest. Even when I’m not working.” She sniped. “Can you give me an update?”

“Sure. We visited her apartment last night once we were done at your door, she wasn’t home, so we visited her boyfriends apartment. He was there, she wasn’t. He was high and there was also a large quantity of drugs on his table in plain sight which he denies purchasing, they’re at the lab for forensics. If her prints are on it we’ll pick her up again.” She focused on what he was saying and added it all to her notes, fingers flying over the keyboard. “As for the tagging of your doors, we can charge them both as I said last night to Gustaf, nothing much will come of it, maybe a fine, but it’ll be documented.”

“Charge them both.” She said bluntly, no fucks given at how pissed she sounded at this point. “It’ll be enough to slap her with restraining orders and injunctions. I need to keep her away from Gustaf and away from our kids.”

He choked up a little, she was protecting him, fighting for him, for them. Our kids, Gustaf’s grin bloomed, he liked the sound of that, our kids, not hers, ours.

“I’ll send you over the police report, any findings. Are you filing yourself?”

“I’ll probably get Elsa to file on our behalf, she knows the kids and history which makes it easier. I’m too close to this to keep a level head. Gustaf has his own team of lawyers so I’ll talk to him and see what he wants to do.” She sighed.

“I’m going to head back to her place and try to track her down later today, I’ll up the urgency as much as I can. It’ll help once the orders and injunctions are in place, send me a copy as soon as they’re filed. I might be able to sit someone on her for a few days. I’m sorry there isn’t more I can get her on at the moment.”

“Give it time.” She muttered. “She’ll come at me again I’m sure.”

“People like that usually don’t stop or change.” He said softly. “Just be careful.”

“Plan on it. Thanks for the update and keep me in the loop?” She asked.

“Of course. I’ll email the reports over in about twenty.”

“Sounds good. Thanks Leon. I appreciate everything you can do.” She hung up and sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face. Taking a few deep breaths she got her thoughts down, and started making breakfast. As she put the bacon in the oven she called Elsa. Dana’s partner picked up on the third ring with a cautious hello.

“Elsa, hey it’s Sildie.”

“Everything ok?”

“Sort of, the kids are fine, but we had an incident at Gustaf’s apartment, and mine.”

“What’s going on?”

He could hear her on the phone, laying out the entire situation from the office Christmas party, to Lucas’s visit, to the tagging of their front doors. Who was she speaking to now, he wondered?

“Can I make a suggestion?” Elsa asked, all business.

“Anything at this point. Just tell me I’m not overreacting.” She sighed pinching the bridge of her nose near her eyes to relieve the headache she could feel brewing.

“File the restraining orders, the injunctions, they probably won’t do much to deter her, but at least it’ll go on her record if she confronts you. I suggest Gustaf do the same, I’ll draw it up for him to save time. Have him send me his lawyers contact info and I’ll keep them in the loop. Once yours is filed I’ll file for the kids. I’m with you on that Sildie, let’s get them protected just in case.”

“Can you have them to me by today?” She chewed on her bottom lip, the anxiety building. “I know it’s the holidays but...”

“Give me a couple of hours and I’ll email it over. Once you’re both happy with them I’ll file it electronically and they can serve her with them this afternoon.” Elsa cut in. “It’s no issue Sildie.”

“I just got off the phone with the detective, they’ll need a copy too.” She said softly and relayed her conversation to get Elsa up to speed. “I’m so fucking angry. We’ve worked hard to get the kids settled, moved in together, fought hard to get through all her shit, he doesn’t need this Elsa, none of them do.”

“I don’t blame you, I’d be pissed too and you don’t need this either Sildie. You’ve gone through enough shit in the past year yourself. I’d call Lindstrom, and Lucas. I don’t think this will help his case, but it could add weight if the drugs have her prints and especially if the drugs are the same chemical signature as the ones Lucas found in his apartment.” Elsa let the silence linger giving Sildie a moment to think.

“He’s my next call. I’ll send you over a cease and desist and let’s add that to the injunction.” She chewed on her bottom lips and let the case fall into place in her mind. “It’ll need to include Gustaf’s family as well, mother, father, all his siblings. I need them all covered. Eija and Alex are in this mess as well if she goes that far.”

“Done, we can file it all together, cake walk.” Elsa said taking more notes as Sildie rattled off the full names of each sibling and their addresses.

He lay there thinking over what he’d just heard. His goddess protecting everything and everyone he loved, those that was dear to him. “What did I do to deserve you lovely lady?” He mumbled, in awe of the woman he’d fallen so hard for.

“I want to hit her with it all, I’m not fucking around and I want it made perfectly clear I will not put up with her shit.” She growled, her mind was made up, all or nothing, she had a family to protect and a sweet man that had worked too damn hard for a measure of peace.

He knew that tone and quietly got up, pulling some sweats on before shuffling out to the kitchen. She was riding on fury, the seething anger fueling her determination to stitch this up tight, the underlying emotion ready to tear her apart when she was done.

“Give me until one Sildie and I’ll call you once I’ve sent it over.”

“Thanks Elsa, sorry to ruin your new year so quickly.” Her eyes flicked to Gustaf and away again as she paced the room. So angry, he thought, this was nothing like the night she’d ripped into him in his workout room, or when she got drunk outside her apartment, this was a whole other level of supremely fucked off.

“There nothing I won’t do to protect Dana’s kids, or you. We’ll keep them safe.”

“I owe you one.”

“Girls night out sometime, I miss that.” Elsa chuckled.

“Done. Thanks again.” Her smile lightened his concern a little, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Anytime Sildie, and I mean that. You could have called last night and I would have answered.”

Sildie chuckled. “I was still processing it. Bye for now.” She knew he’d been there for the last part of the conversation and she sighed out the tension as his arms wrapped around her.

“Everything ok?”

“It will be. I have paperwork in process and I need your lawyers information.” She turned to kiss him. “Elsa will do up a restraining order and injunction for you and your family and have your team look over it before filing.”

“Looking after me?” He said gently.

“Damn right I’m looking after you.” She muttered as his mouth claimed that one spot on her neck.

“I like it when you look after me, get all feisty.” She could feel the smirk against her skin, he was trying to get her to relax, take her mind off it.

“And what are you doing out of bed? I told you to stay there so I could bring you food.” She flicked his nose before kissing him with a slight smile. Her attempt at hiding the anger was a good effort, but he saw it for what it was, she was scared.

“I heard your tone change.” He said gently. “I wanted to make sure you’re ok.” He could hear the stress and anxiety in her voice and knew she’d need to release it and soon before the anxiety pushed her into a panic attack.

“I’ll be better when I have shit in place that clearly states. Don’t fuck with me and mine.” She tapped his arm as the timer went off to pull the bacon out of the oven. “I have to call Lindstrom and Lucas in a bit too. I don’t know if this will help his case any, but they need to know.” She turned the pan on to make scrambled eggs and let the task calm her.

He let her talk, the more she was talking about it the less she was holding in, they were a team and even though they were still finding their feet as a couple, this was what built trust and dependability, they were there for each other tackling shit together.

“So because it’s an isolated incident they may not be able to use it?” He asked trying to understand how it all worked.

“Exactly. It has nothing to do with Lucas, but, if the drugs in the dudes apartment have her prints, same chemical makeup, it could help their case. It’s a pattern.”

“It was a stupid move on her part.” He muttered. “Letting herself be seen.”

“It was, but I don’t think she knew we had cameras installed.” Sildie said honestly.

“And I don’t think she knows what she’s up against with you love. Most people back down and can’t be bothered with the hassle of going to the police, so she gets away with it. I’m guilty of doing exactly that, I just kicked her out I didn’t call the police on her. Not you though, you’re like a fucking pitt bull.” He chuckled.

“I can’t watch her fuck with you again.” She said quietly, her tone quivering. “And she sure as shit doesn’t get to fuck with our kids.” She spat.

“No, she doesn’t. Is there anything I can do? Need to do to help this along? Anything?” He said tenderly, fingers stroking her cheek.

She shook her head. “No, just your lawyers info and let me handle her.” She busied plating the eggs and stacked the bacon beside it. “If they establish a pattern with her purchasing drugs it could drag you into it.” She said quietly and felt like she’d kicked a puppy when she looked at him.

“Shit.” He felt like the floor had dropped out from beneath him.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “I don’t know if that’s her plan, but it’s a possibility and I don’t want it to blindside you.” She kissed him tenderly. “Talk to your lawyers.” She said bluntly. “I’m absolutely serious.” She added when he snorted. “I’m talking to Lindstrom here in a bit and I’ll be asking him to represent you if things go pear shaped.”

“You seriously think it could go that far?” He asked, a touch of fear edging his voice.

“If, and that’s a big if, if they establish pattern they can charge her with more. It becomes trafficking which is a heftier charge. I’d have to look it up, but it adds weight against her case and in favor for Lucas’s. If they establish pattern and look deeper they could look at your relationship with her, same pattern. You found drugs she’d purchased and kicked her out. What about the person before you, and before them? Same deal I suspect. Just be prepared ok?”

“I didn’t even think of that.” He said slightly stunned.

“I don’t know what her end game is love. I can only give you plausible worst case scenarios with evidence that may not be viable. I don’t know whether it’s to bring you down, smear you across the media, or to get back at me for calling her out on her shit at the Christmas party, but I’m not going to see you dragged into a fight blindly.” She picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled, her mind chewing over everything, the fury still rolling off her in waves. “And you sure as shit aren’t facing her on your own.”

“I’m sorry love.” He murmured and kissed her temple drawing her close.

”No, you don’t get to apologize for her either. This is shitty, but I’m not going to stand by and watch her try to destroy you again. She picked the wrong bitch to fuck with this time.” She was so angry, more out of fear for Gustaf and the kids than herself. “Sorry. I don’t mean to snarl and snipe at you, I’m just so fucking livid.”

“I know.” He kissed her brow again. “Let it go now.” He murmured. “Together love.” He said softly, his fingers toying with her wisps of hair at her cheek. “Let it go.”

“I know.” She sighed and felt the fight drain from her as he kissed her brow and lingered. “I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Fuck this blows.” She huffed.

“Yeah, but you were right with what you said last night. We can’t let her get between us or let her win, she’s a blip. We deal with the blip and move on with what we’re doing, our life. Together.” He put the kettle on to boil as they stood and ate the rest of their meal at the kitchen counter, she was too agitated to sit still. Once the tea was made and she’d eaten half of her plate he pulled her to him. “Do what you need to do, then let it be for the day, because then I want to take you back to bed and finish what we started last night.” He growled as he nuzzled her neck.

Her giggle lightened his heart. “You’re right.” She kissed him sinfully, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Let me make some calls and then we can let it go for the day.”

“That’s my girl.” He purred, mouth savaging hers. She left the comfort of his arms to walk toward her office, the nibble of her bottom lip more out of being lost in thought of her upcoming conversation than teasing, the smack to her ass however was firm enough to sting. “Don’t push your luck kitten.” He growled. She sent him a wicked smirk and her thoughts seemed to change mid stride.

She was sure he was going to spank her last night but didn’t, understandibly, would he do it today? “Fuck I hope so.” She sighed to herself as she sat at her desk and turned her computer on. She could do with some borderline pleasurable pain to get over whatever this was she was feeling. Anger, resentment, fury, rage, guilt, grief, jealousy, all of the above, she thought. It was the jealousy that unnerved her, such an ugly emotion and she was better than that.

She made her own notes, her own case file, documenting everything that happened and the steps she’d taken to protect her family. Her family, she thought and her fingers stopped over the keys as she looked at the digital photo frame of the six of them, the only family she had left. She would protect them the only way she knew how, with the law. She’d fought for the kids before and she’d fight for Gustaf and his family too.

He left her to work knowing that if he interrupted her now he’d get the lawyer land stare. She had a process, and a need to make this right, to protect him, to protect the kids in her own way. Pulling the gloves on he worked the bag, his own need to process his thoughts, he needed the physical exertion. Letting the events of last night play in his mind he dealt with the anger and frustration that came with it, pounding the bag mercilessly until his muscles begged him to stop. He felt better for it once he sat for meditation, the calm washing over him and filling him much quicker and easier now he’d put it in its place. The process had become easier since Sildie, the calm he found with her. She was right, he’d come too far to let minor shit with Ana get in his head and fuck with him. And this was minor shit, an inconvenience, a blip.

She could hear him in his workout room as she put the kettle on to boil and decided to leave him be. The door was open and he wasn’t shutting her out, he was processing last night just as she had been doing as she worked. He’d come to her when he was done and knew his mindset would be better for it. Taking the fresh pot of tea to her office she sat and called Lucas.

“Sildie? Hi, happy new year.” Lucas said brightly, but she could hear the uncertainty in his voice, probably wondering why she was calling him.

“Hey, happy new year.” She tried to sound cheerful and failed.

“Everything ok?”

“Not really, no. You got a minute to chat?” She chewed on her lip.

“Of course, what’s going on?” His tone became instantly concerned.

She relayed the events of last night, the paperwork she’d already filed and scrubbed a hand over her face. “I don’t know where that leaves you, or how it affects you, but I wanted you to know.”

“Shit.” He sighed out. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault, you’re not responsible for her actions.” She said a little too harshly and was sure he’d flinched at her tone. “Sorry, I’m a little pissy.” She added hearing her abrasive tone and took a breath.

“I know, I just... you know what I mean. I’m surprised you haven’t hit nuclear yet.” He said huffing a chuckle.

“I’m working on it.” She snorted.

“Definitely call Lindstrom. I’ll catch him up on most of it tomorrow when we discuss charges of my own against her for the funds she stole, but he’ll want to hear it from you.” Lucas added.

“I need to talk to him about another matter too.” She said and told him her theory and possible pattern of behavior landing Gustaf in the hot seat. “I’ll copy you on our case, in the event it helps yours.”

“Shit Sildie, I didn’t even think of that. What are you guys going to do?” He asked.

“Let it play out for now. I want Lindstrom in our corner if it goes south. If she comes for me again we’re protected, law wise, other than that there’s not much more I can do.”

“Good plan. How did she get into the building, I thought they had it locked down?” He asked as she poured her tea.

“Her newest squeeze lives downstairs.” She told him of her conversation with Leon. “I know it’s petty but she’s due for some fucking karma.” She sighed out sipping her tea. “I just want her gone from our lives.”

“God yes, you and me both. Leon’s a good guy, he’ll keep it active.” She could hear the honesty in his voice.

“You holding up ok?” She asked sipping her tea.

“Yeah. It looks as though they’re not going to charge me. She tried to cover her tracks, but didn’t do a very good job of it. I’m about to have it out with the bank. It just adds more weight, you know how it is. Slow and methodical, build the case.”

“Good luck with the bank. Knowing her she had a whole cocked up sob story to get her whatever her little black heart desired.” Sildie snarked, god she was in such a pissy mood as she heard her tone.

“No doubt.”

“Anyway, I gotta run.” She said as Gustaf appeared in the doorway, empty cup in hand searching for the teapot. “I just wanted you to know what she was up to.”

“I appreciate it Sildie. Call Lindstrom he’ll want to know.”

“Sounds good, take care.”

“You too.”

She hung up and blew a breath out, scrubbing a hand over her face. “Fuck me I want to hunt that bitch down and end her myself right the fuck now.” She huffed and let it go, she had to or it would eat her alive. Too fucking late she thought, she was irritable and on edge, and it made her twitchy. She hated twitchy.

“She’ll get what she’s owed love, in spades.” He said softly as he placed his hands on the arms of her chair and leaned in to kiss her sweetly. He hated seeing her like this. “You’ll end her your own way, with the law behind you.” He kissed her again. “What else is bothering you love?”

“I don’t know.” She said quickly, a little too quickly, but she was telling the truth, she didn’t know what was up today. Was it Ana, last night with his family, remnants of the move, Christmas, she wondered? It was like someone had shaken up a hornets nest and made her swallow it whole.

“I don’t like seeing you on edge like this.” He said gently.

“I don’t like being on edge, but I am, and I don’t know why.” Her voice cracked as a surge of unwelcome emotion threatened to consume her.

He kissed her tenderly. “Are you done for the day?” He asked, lips ghosting hers. He wanted to take care of her, soothe her and help her to find the release she needed to deal with whatever this emotion was that had her so worked up. That was the one thing he could give her, the sex that set her free, that allowed her to let go of the control and rid herself of whatever it was smothering her, suffocating her.

“I just have to wait for Elsa to call me back at one and I need to email Lindstrom. There’s not much he can do today that can’t wait until he’s back in the office, but I want it there in his inbox first thing when Lucas talks to him.” She murmured relaxing back and letting him slowly devour her mouth. Her phone rang and she smirked against his lips. “It must be one.”

“Must be. Come back to bed when you’re done love.” He said, the hint of demand lacing his words, it wasn’t a request. He would set her free on another level, and she needed it, he thought.

“Hi Elsa.” She said answering the call and watching him as he walked to the door. She bit her bottom lip as he turned to look at her, the heated desire in his glare spoke volumes.

That look from under her lashes and her bottom lip trapped between her teeth was enough to send his arousal into the stratosphere. With a deep rumbling snarl he stalked to the bedroom and set his plan in motion.

“Thanks Elsa. I’ll sign these and get them straight back to you.” She said with a steady breath.

“I’ll have them served this afternoon.”

“You’re the best.” She breathed a sigh of relief, she’d done all she could today to make sure they were safe yet she felt it wasn’t enough.

“I’ve sent a copy to Gustaf’s team, but his isn’t as urgent as yours and the kids. Yours will cover his apartment because that’s where you’re living. I’ve covered all the bases with the injunction and your cease and desist is perfect, I can have that cover Gustaf and his family as well, I’ll modify it to fit.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I’ll call you next week, I have to run.” Elsa chuckled when her four year old screamed from the other room.

“No problem and thanks again Elsa.”

“You bet.”

She read and signed each order and emailed it back to Elsa, the weight lifting from her shoulders the moment she hit send. “I’ve done all I can do.” She breathed out shakily. “Now we let it be.” She huffed a breath out. “Yeah... right.” Yes she’d taken it as far as she could legally take it by protecting Gustaf’s family, but there was always the what if. She thought of Eija and Alex in particular and knew she now had to give them a heads up. “It never fucking ends.” She growled and scrubbed a hand over her face.

She took the teapot to the kitchen and rinsed it out.

“Hey can you text me the phone numbers for Eija and Alex?” She asked Gustaf as he walked into the kitchen.

“Sure, everything ok?” He asked as he’d come into the kitchen to talk to her about the kids and was completely thrown off by her request.

“Yeah, or it will be. I had the restraining orders against Ana include your family. They all need to know if Ana contacts them in any way they need to call the police and file a complaint.”

“Well shit.” He sighed.

“Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass, but this is how you build a case. Every time she contacts someone with a restraining order it goes in her file and won’t look so good with those sorts of violations on her record when she goes to court.”

He hastily texted her the numbers she requested and added Sam, and Valter. “Text them all, it’ll be better coming from you, I’ll only fuck up the wording.” He snorted, it was the truth.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. This is your realm love not mine, but I’ll back you up all the way.” He kissed her tenderly. “Dad and Megan texted, which is why I came out here. They’re taking the kids to a movie and bowling.” He said as he turned her in his arms to nibble her neck. “And they’re keeping the kids tonight as well.” His father had offered once Gustaf had told him of their welcome home present last night. They both needed another night and the kids were happy spending time with grandpa.

“Oh, they... ok.” She stammered, she felt her gut sink suddenly, that jealousy churning inside her. Would they be ok was her first thought and then scolded herself for being so silly. Of course they’ll be ok, she snapped at herself silently. The jealousy was another matter, it sat heavy inside her like a greasy taint.

“You’re not ok with it?” He shook his head, he should have cleared it with her first. I’m an idiot, he swore silently, such an idiot.

“No, I’m fine with it, just wasn’t expecting... never mind.” She shook her head, she couldn’t let her emotions cloud the fact the kids now had a family that cared, to give them what she missed out on. That wasn’t fair on them and she wouldn’t be that person. “It’s a good thing.” She had to give a little here, Gustaf should make decisions for them as well, she knew he had their best interests at heart. It was all just happening at an alarming rate and she wasn’t sure she was handling it all very well. Let’s be real, she scoffed internally, you’re not handling any of this well.

“As long as you’re fine with it. I’ll ask next time.” He mentally kicked himself again for not asking in the first place.

“No it’s ok, I trust you with them love, I just need to relinquish control and I’m just... pissy.” She snarked at herself. “I’m trying, but you know me, control freak extraordinaire.” She snapped.

“I know you’re trying love. He offered and I thought it would be nice for them and for us.” He wanted to make her feel less of the stress she was currently burdened with. This was so much more than Ana, more than Quinn.

“I’m sorry, I’m on edge and irritated at everything. I need to text your family.” Her tone was abrasive as she pulled away from him to go do exactly what she’d said.

He knew her mood wasn’t because of him, but it stung, it hurt to see her wrestling something he couldn’t see, couldn’t fix, and her not being able to voice it made it that much worse. Was it last night, he wondered, the jealousy she’d felt? It was a deeper emotion, something that had surged forward along with everything else. “My love.” He muttered as she stomped away. “How do I help you?” His text tone chimed and he read it as she wandered back into the kitchen. He gave her room, some space to digest events, her own emotions.

Hi Everyone

Her text read.

Gustaf and I will chat with you all later in the week to give you the details, but so you are aware, due to an incident at our home last night we have a restraining order out against Ana. The order lists all of you, so if she contacts you in any way please contact the police and file a report. Please have them attach it to the following: Restraining Order #936358-ND-65. Attention: Detective Leon Holmberg. If she contacts you say nothing other than “you are violating your restraining order, I can’t talk to you” and walk away or hang up, do not engage her in conversation in any manner even if she continues to follow you, talk, or harass you. The order is for your protection, please use it. I’ll email you copies and further instruction once the paperwork is served on her this afternoon. Please keep that in mind the more she contacts you the worse it is for her providing you file the report and don’t retaliate.

His phone rang a moment later and he smirked as Eija’s number came on the screen.

“What’s up nugget?” He said cheerily and saw the quick smile on Sildie’s face at his endearment.

“What’s up? Really Goose? Your girlfriend sends me a text saying all hell broke loose last night and you ask me what’s up? You fucker, why didn’t you call me?” Her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You guys ok?”

“Were fine.” He said gently as he watched Sildie pace, it was eating at her.

“Put me on speaker.” He did as she asked and pulled Sildie to him, anything to calm the raging storm under her skin.

“Hi Eija.” Sildie said softly.

“Hi back. What the fuck happened?” Sildie appreciated Eija, blunt and to the point much like she was. Gustaf relayed the events of the evening sensing Sildie was over talking to people about this for the day, it was his family after all and he needed to pick up the slack.

“Sildie you need anything from me you call ok?” Eija said fiercely. “I don’t give a fuck about what time it is or what I’m in the middle of, where you or the kids are, you need me, you fucking call.”

“Thanks Eija.” She smiled, the feeling of being accepted by his family choking her up. How did she deserve this, deserve them? Family pulls together when something happens, protects each other, this was so new for her. Hadn’t Stellan said the exact same thing to her last night?

Gustaf fielded calls from all his siblings and finally his mother as Sildie sipped her tea and zoned out. He’d only heard his mother get angry a few times in her life, but she was beyond livid, not at Sildie, or at him, angry at the situation and the potential harm it could do to her kids, her family. He promised to call her later in the week, to come over for lunch.

“Your dad texted me back letting me know the kids are safe and will continue to be.” She said softly still staring at her phone. How did she process such love from a family that barely knew her, a family that accepted her so openly and unconditionally?

“He’ll keep them safe love.” He murmured, bundling her into his arms. “My dad is a force to be reckoned with when he’s angry, especially if it involves his kids, or in this case, his grand kids.” He kissed her gently and looked at her slightly perplexed when she pulled away to pace. She was agitated, still on edge and he was at a loss as to why. He watched her take her laptop back to her office and disappear.

“My love, how do I help you when you push me away?” He sighed and went to the bedroom, knowing she was compartmentalizing to get through this shit storm before falling apart. She had the email to write to Lindstrom and once that was done he’d see to it that she relaxed and decompressed.

She typed furiously as the letter to Lindstrom flowed easily. Laying out their case, the possibility of pattern behavior, Gustaf, Lucas, her kids. She choked and sucked a shuddered breath in. Her limit of holding back her anxiety had almost reach critical mass for the day and knew once the letter was sent her system was going to freak the fuck out and own her ass. After sending the email to Lindstrom, she sent emails to Oliver, Daisy, the school, and daycare, hockey, soccer, covered all bases. She knew she was being overly cautious. “Better than the alternative.” She muttered.

Gustaf was nowhere to be found in the main living area when she eventually emerged from her office, her laptop now closed, paperwork neatly stacked. Coming into the bedroom she could hear water running from the en-suite and figured he was taking a shower. He must be so upset with me, she thought. Her behavior wasn’t exactly pleasant today, she’d snapped and spat at him all day like some deranged cat, anger and rage mixed with jealousy. She didn’t like herself when she got like this.

“Good timing.” He said as he stepped into the room to find her standing at the window staring out at the snowfall.

“I’m sorry.” She said softly, her eyes fixed on the fat snowflakes tumbling to the ground.

“For what love?” He came to stand beside her, the urge to touch her strong, but he sensed she needed to come to him, her system frazzled.

“For the way I spoke to you earlier, I’ve been in a pisser of a mood since I woke up and I’ve been taking it out on you. That’s not who I am and you deserve better from me.” She choked.

“It’s ok.” His tone tender.

“No, Gustaf it’s not.” She said turning to face him, the tell tale wheeze of her anxiety prevalent. “I don’t like being this person, the one that’s so fucking terrified that she bites your head off every chance she gets.” She struggled to suck in a breath and he was in front of her a heart beat later.

“Breathe.” He commanded softly, leaning his forehead against hers as she tried to do as he asked. “And again love.” He murmured, as she managed a small one. He talked to her, helping her focus on one breath after another until she took a deep breath and let it shudder out.

“I’m sorry.” She choked. “I don’t like who I am right now.”

He kissed her, full on wrapped her face in his gigantic hands and devoured every inch of that gorgeous mouth. It wasn’t seductive, it was to shut her up and shock her into silence, it worked. “It’s ok. Sometimes you have to get in the mood to get shit done, to kick some ass and take some names, you’ve done that. All day you’ve done that. Now it’s time to let it be.” He murmured and kissed her tenderly.

“I’m scared.” She admitted quietly. “And this jealousy I have no fucking right to feel just bubbles out of nowhere.” Her tone was so lost, he thought. It hadn’t been that way for a while.

“I know you’re scared love.” He took a chance and slowly bundled her into his arms. “I’m not feeling particularly great about it all either. But as you keep reminding me, we can’t let her win.” Her snort made him smirk.

“God you’re so fucking right.” She sighed. “And here I am letting her do exactly that.” She was such an idiot.

“At least you channeled it into something useful.” He chuckled taking a dig at himself. “I’ll remind you if you remind me?” He said gently as he kissed her brow.

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I. I should have got my lazy ass up and helped.” He scoffed at himself.

“There wasn’t anything for you to help with really.”

“I could have made breakfast.” He smiled at her chuckle, she was coming back to him. “So, to make up for that faux pas, come with me a moment.” He took her by the hand and led her to the bathroom where the tub was full, bubbles and the soft candlelight almost instantly calming her. “In you get. I’m going to make tea and come and join you.”

“I love you.” She said softly, her voice quavering, he was so good to her.

“I love you too.” He kissed her tenderly as he slipped the silk robe from her shoulders, hands roaming her body with a need to soothe, to nurture, to give. “Get in the tub love. Let it be done for today and relax.” He murmured, his lips ghosting hers before he kissed her slowly and pulled away to go and make tea.

Her moan was delirious as she slipped into the blistering hot water, he knew how she liked it. Letting the thoughts of the day melt from her brain she started to drift, the anxiety falling away to finally allow her to relax. She’d done all she could to keep those she loved safe, to help start building a case against Ana if it came to that. Her thoughts went to the kids, the ten day vacation in the snow that Gustaf had booked, and smiled. That would be some good bonding time for all of them. How could she be jealous of that? “Stupid.” She huffed. “You’re just being a selfish stupid woman.”

The clink of china on the tile roused her from the warm and sleepy state she’d fallen into while he’d been gone, the thoughts of children of their own again drifting through her consciousness every now and then.

“You’re all soft and sleepy.” He said quietly, the arousal of her in such a state edging his tone. Bending down to kiss her his hand slipped beneath the water to touch her, fingers teasing as his mouth claimed hers. “Can I join you?”

“Mmmm.” She sighed dreamily. Moving forward Gustaf climbed in behind her and stretched out, bundling her into his lap.

“Now this is much better.” He purred, the water easing the stress from his body in an instant. “I brought snacks, I figured you wouldn’t want a huge meal.”

“It’s perfect.” She relaxed back against that massive chest, his arms curling around her protectively, the tenderness of his touch reassuring her that they would be ok. They talked softly, sipping their tea, snacking, the lazy strokes of his fingers making her entire body turn to goo. He smirked against the nape of her neck as a shiver skittered over her skin as his lips tended a favorite spot.

“I’m falling asleep I’m so relaxed.” She chuckled, his mouth seductively toying with her earlobe.

“I love it when you’re all soft and warm and sleepy.” He dipped his head down to gently bite her shoulder.

“I know you do.” She sighed as his hands cupped her breasts. Turning the jets on he continued to caress her body, arouse her, seduce her, determined to see her fully relaxed and sated before sleep claimed her.

When she was almost a complete mess he helped her out of the bath and wrapped a towel around her, pulling her close. He had a need to take care of her today, after all the upheaval of the last twenty four hours he needed it as much as she did.

Walking her back to the bed his mouth claimed hers, lazy, tender, yet demanding. Fingers removed the towel and he kissed her as she climbed on to the bed. Rolling her to her side he wrapped her top leg around him and slipped into that glorious wet heat. He made love to her, pulling each soft cry and whimper from her with heartbreaking tenderness.

“Gustaf.” Her voice choked, he could hear the sob waiting ready to fall as soon as she came.

“I know love, let it take you.” He murmured, the slow, deep thrusts caressing that one spot inside her that would be her undoing. His finger stroked over her clit, the sensation tipping her over the edge. She came hard, the soft cry of his name tumbling from her lips peaking his own release. Quickening his pace slightly he rode out their bliss, coming hard.

Her body shook as he slowed and gently pulled out to lay beside her, the tears came next. He was expecting them after the stress of the morning, the anger that still simmered beneath the surface, her inner turmoil. “Come here love.” He murmured, curling her into him. “Let it go.” He kissed her hair, the scent of her soothing him.

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed.

“It’s fine. Let it go.” He soothed as his fingers gently raked through her hair. She calmed eventually, the sobs giving way to just tears, Gustaf didn’t know what was worse really, he hated it when she cried but knew that sometimes she was better for it. “Too much today and last night.” He said softly.

“Overload.” She sniffed, as she burrowed into his chest, his scent soothing the rough edges of her distress and the strength she found with him.

“Sleep now love.” He kissed her brow and pulled the covers over them both.

“Boring for you.” She scoffed, her tone telling him she was already drifting.

“I have you in my arms love, nothing boring about that. I think we could both use the rest.” She craned her head back to look at him.

“I love you and I’m sorry.” She said gently, her fingers brushing his lips.

“I love you and I’m sorry too.” He smiled and nipped her fingers. “That tickles.” He chuckled and her smile loosened the tight feeling in his chest. “Close you eyes and sleep, or just drift, switch that wicked smart brain of yours off for a few hours. We have nowhere to be or to do anything else today.” He soothed, his fingers coasting up and down the length of her side. “A nap will be good for both of us.”

“I’m scared.” She whispered, as if voicing it would bring down a world of hurt on them both.

“I know you are love, I am too.” He snuggled her in tighter. “But we stick together, you and me.” Her nod made him smile. “We’ll have a week and change with the kids in the snow, far away from her and all this shit. We’ll take a breath, recharge, and then hit her with everything we have.” He kissed her hair. “I’m not going to let her destroy what we have Sildie.” He vowed, and her head came up off his chest and her kiss was fierce.

“I love you sweet man.”

“She doesn’t get to fuck with this family.” He growled. She kissed him, that tender kiss that rocked him to his core.

“You’re so much stronger than her.”

“Because I have you. You make me a better man Sildie, a better person, and she doesn’t get to fuck with that.”

“I’m worried about the kids, when they go back to school.” She was still processing, struggling to switch it off.

“I know love. Hopefully this will be done by then. And if it isn’t...” He tangled his fingers in that copper halo he adored and devoured her mouth slowly. “If it isn’t, we’ll deal with it, together, you and me.” He smiled at her. “Though I don’t think you’d have any problem kicking her ass seven ways to Sunday on your own regardless.” He gave her lips a quick peck in jest. “But you’re not alone love, I’ll help take her down anyway I can.” He kissed her tenderly. “Sleep a bit now ok?” Shut it down for a few hours and recharge.”

“Will you stay?” She breathed out as he felt her entire body relax into him, the need to know he would be here when she woke overwhelming.

“I’m not going anywhere love.” He kissed her hair as he felt her plummet into sleep at his words.

His thoughts drifted, there was nothing else either of them could do about the current situation. They had exhausted all options apart from committing homicide to rid the world of Ana’s existence. Sildie had busted ass today to keep everyone he loved safe, not just him and the kids, but his entire family. A family that she’d only just become a part of, a family that she was still getting a feel for, so new, so daunting, yet she’d defended them, protected them without hesitation. “How do I deserve someone as wonderful as you my love?” He whispered, breathing her in. The warmth of her against him pulling him into sleep, those soft curves pressed to him in all the right places.

He was woken by soft, lazy kisses from a woman just waking up herself. Half asleep he deepened it. “My Sildie.” He murmured, the rasp in his voice causing her to moan, her lips searching for more of him, more from him.

“I love waking up to you.” She breathed, those Viking blue eyes fluttering open to look at her. His hands were already moving along her body, a touch so gentle, so loving. It was a time for them to reconnect, the lazy seduction and sloppy kisses exactly what they needed. He’d never had this with any other woman, the spontaneity, the relaxed love making to soothe more than just the act of fucking each other.

“Roll over.” He murmured against her mouth, fingers enticing her to move onto her side. “Mmmmm. Much better.” He purred as he spooned her, hands tenderly cupping her breasts, thumbs exciting her nipples to hardened buds. His movements were unhurried, carefree but not careless, her own equally arousing.

She could feel his hardening length against her thigh, the lazy thrusts as he flexed his hips, grinding against her. Relaxing back into him she gave herself over to his talented fingers dancing along her skin, the arousal pooling at her entrance.

“Scoot your leg forward.” He murmured, and guided it to where he wanted it, mouth sucking on a tender spot below her ear.

“Spoony sex.” She giggled.

“Mmmm, never done this one?” He asked softly as his fingers drifted over her navel and inched toward her clit.

“No.” She sighed.

“Spoon sex is lazy.” He kissed a trail down her neck. “Slow.” His tongue darted out to flick the pulse at her neck before he sucked on it gently. “Erotic, unhurried, and with the right partner, beautiful. Just like you.” He kissed her as her head turned to look at him. “I love you Sildie.” His fingers trailed her jaw as he studied her face, he could never get enough of her.

“I love you too.” Her hand cupped the side of his face as she claimed his mouth, tongue dancing with his.

“Relax.” He breathed and went back to completely destroying her system. Those clever fingers stoked her arousal, eventually slipping between her folds and over her clit where he circled it slowly. “Feel good?” He whispered as her breath hitched and that soft whimper fell from her lips.

“Yes.”

Taking his cock in his hand he stroked the engorged tip through her juices, her heat making his own breath catch. Pausing at her entrance he continued to torment her clit. His pace was devilishly slow, pulling out every sensation her body had to offer her and setting fire to it. With a gentle flex of his hips he inched the tip inside her, the stretch to her opening causing that moan to tumble out. “You like that.”

“God yes. So big.” She gasped as he started thrusting, slow and shallow. “Gustaf.” He was so thick with her legs like this she almost thought he wouldn’t fit. Her belly and pussy fluttered, the muscles eager to feel him, every glorious inch of him.

“Let it take you love.” He purred, lips teasing the shell of her ear as his fingers kept the same torturous rhythm. “Let me feel you.” Her arm reached back and held him behind his head as she tensed, her body poised to shatter.

“I can’t.” She choked.

“Breathe and come for me.” He murmured tenderly and gently sucked the pulse at her neck. It was enough to tip her over, that gorgeous cry of his name as she came, her pussy clamping down around him. “Feels good.” He growled. “So good.” He continued to take her apart, the steady rhythm building each orgasm and letting it crash over her again and again.

“Come with me.” She gasped as another built, the need to feel him find release, find his own pleasure, to feel him pulse inside her.

He shifted slightly and thrust deeper, her cry one of surprise it could feel that good and total euphoria at being filled. “You’re so tight like this.” His breathing not as steady as before. They took each other, slow and deep, drawing out the intense pleasure. “Sildie.” His tone that deep timbre she loved, one he only used for her. He bit down on her shoulder gently as she peaked, the struggle to keep in control until she came almost painful.

He felt her fall over the edge, the savage grip of her pussy as she came making her that much tighter. Keeping the same rhythm he held her tightly to him as he tensed, his release thundering through him, the soft groan as he found his pleasure making her smile. Slowing to a stop they lay there sated, loose, and relaxed.

“I think you liked that.” He grinned against her hair as her quiet chuckle filled the room.

“There is nothing about our sex life I don’t like.” She half turned in his arms to look at him. “I like lazy, spoony sex.” Her kiss was smoldering.

“That’s illegal.” He breathed. “Yet so fucking good.” His growl made her chuckle.

“Food? I have no idea what the time is, but I’m hungry.”

“It’s only seven.” He said glancing at his phone. He kissed her and deepened it when her tongue teased his. “Plenty of time for food and more of you.” The smirk at her lips wasn’t lost on him.

“I like the sound of more of you.” She purred and nipped his jaw. “Food first.” They untangled themselves and headed to the kitchen, Sildie quite happy to wander the apartment naked.

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