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whosscruffylooking · 3 years

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Bad Bounty Chapter One: Reunion

Sergeant Hunter x Fem! Bounty Hunter

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Maybe mutual pining? Nothing too gross.

A/N: hunter was already attractive in season 7, but i managed to suppress my feelings for an ANIMATED character. alas, the bad batch has cursed me and i have finally accepted that he is my latest comfort character.

“You hold onto friends by keeping your heart a little softer than your head.”

“Clone Force 99. Welcome back, ” Commander Cody extends a hand to Hunter who firmly shakes it.

“Apologies for showing up late, we-”

“Got stuck handling some unexpected complications during a mission. I understand Sergeant Hunter,” Cody winks.

“What have you got for us this time Commander?” Crosshair mumbles, twisting his toothpick around between his teeth.

“This one is going to be a bit different boys. It’s not exactly…sanctioned by the GAR. Let’s call it a favor for an old friend of mine.”

Crosshair straightens up, suspicious of Cody’s statement, “We may bend the rules from time to time, but we don’t do favors.”

“This is an efficient mission that ultimately will aid us in the war, provide you some easy target practice…and helps me relieve an old debt I have to pay.”

“Is there a reason you can’t do this yourself?” Hunter questions.

“We’ve been called into battle. Besides, this separatist encampment is one we have failed to infiltrate time and time again,” Cody responds.

Hunter shifts, struggling to comprehend where this is going, “What does attacking a separatist encampment have to do with repaying a debt?”

“There is a Senator stationed on Drahgor III…a corrupt senator at that. One who has a significant bounty on his head. My dear old friend is a bounty hunter I met on Ord Mantell. Your job will be to take out the clankers and retrieve any data you can from the main database. Meanwhile, my bounty hunter friend will secure the bounty and you’ll go your separate ways.”

“Who is this Bounty Hunter?” Crosshair inquires.

“Glad you asked,” Cody exclaims, “Y/N!”

The clone troopers twirl around to see you approaching them. Your manner is conservative yet confident. One thing you have become an expert at is never striving for attention. Instead, your presence demands it.

You nod at the troopers, “Clone Force 99, it is a pleasure to be working with you.”

Surveying the team, your eyes first fall on Crosshair. His distrusting look reaffirms the defense you raised long before wandering onto the landing platform.

Gotta keep an eye on that one.

Next, you glance over to Wrecker. A massive lug of a man, but he has the noticeable demeanor of a gentle giant. Something about him reminds you of a plush toy you once owned as a child.

Tech catches your attention next. He is clearly the intuitive one. He will either be a pain to deal with, or a beneficial asset.

At last, your eyes meet Hunter’s. Such a tiny gesture of nothingness feels like you’ve just been thrust into a timeless world of something far more significant. You quickly dismiss your gaze, but soon find your eyes wandering back to him. His eyes are already on you.

Tech quickly picks up on your silent interaction and nudges Hunter to break him of his trance. Hunter quickly snaps out of it and clears his throat. He is dumbstruck by his response. His heart beats recklessly.

Taking note of his counterpart’s vitals, Tech is left unsettled by the quickening of Hunter’s heart rate. “Hunter, I need you to focus on your breathing. Your heart rate is abnormally high.”

Setting your sight once more on the rugged clone trooper, you catch the ever-changing hue of his cheek…the one that isn’t covered in dark ink. A hint of red paints his untouched skin.

He clears his throat, “Erm-thank you for alerting me Tech. I’ll be aboard the ship.”

Cody shrugs his shoulders at you, “I guess you’ll brief them on the ship. Have a safe trip.”

“Thank you Cody, ” you clap him on the shoulder and follow the rogue crews lead onto their ship.

++++

𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙳𝚊𝚢

“Where are we going to go? We need somewhere we can set up camp that isn’t easily tracked, ” Echo declares.

“There is one place I can think of, but I’m not sure that Hunter will be a fan of the location, ” Tech announces apprehensively.

Hunter lets out a groan and tightens his fist.

Wrecker laughs, “Hunter doesn’t like this idea! Which means I like it even more!”

Glaring at Wrecker, Hunter abruptly stands and stomps off into the cockpit.

“Where is it?” Echo inquires. He leans in, intrigued by the atmosphere that has suddenly befallen the Marauder.

“Let’s just say…we’d have to get help from an old friend.”

“Ha! An old friend!?” Wrecker blurts out, “Try an old fla-”

“That’s enough, ” Hunter commands, having regained his composure, “We will attempt to make contact this evening and if we have no response by the morning, we will seek out other options.”

++++

All night Hunter stayed up, much to the dismay of his crewmates, awaiting an incoming communication. His mind told him that it would never come through; his heart made him believe…or at least hope otherwise.

He stretches his arms into the air, releasing a hardy yawn. Tech enters the cockpit, “Anything?”

“Nothing, ” Hunter responds with a hint of despair clouding his words.

Just then, a muffled echo transmits through the comms unit. Hunter nearly falls out of the captain’s chair as he scrambles to the commlink.

“This is Phoenix 178095 trying to contact Clone Force 99. I repeat, this is Phoenix 1780-“

“Copy Phoenix 178095, this is Clone Force 99,” Hunter announces almost frantically.

The only response is silence…until, “Hunter? Hunter, is that you?”

The rugged clones grasp on the comlink tightens, and he touches it to his forehead. His eyes are locked shut, his breath unsteady.

“Yes. It’s me.”

You hear his guttural voice and suddenly, your memories which you’ve strived to suppress come flooding back, knocking the wind out of you.

Attempting to swallow the lump that insists on crowding your throat, you press down the transmitter button, but fail to express your thoughts.

“What?” A menacing voice echoes out, “Lothcat got your tongue?”

You chuckle, pressing the comlink to your forehead, “well if it isn’t my favorite piston head.” Piston head, a nickname you have used to refer to Crosshair for as long as you can remember. You find it fitting because term is in reference to a droid, similar to the droid-like manner in which Crosshair carries himself.

“So!” Shouts a third, brooding and somewhat childish voice, “Are we bunking with you or what?”

“Yes Wrecker, you are more than welcome to stay here.”

“Thank you, ” Hunter softly says into the comm’s mic. His voice still brings warmth to your soul, although the communicator slightly alters it.

“Get here safely.”

“Always do.”

“I know, ” you affirm and disconnect the commlink.

Looking around at the empty room, which mere seconds ago was filled with the sound of your closest friends’ voices, you feel once again plagued by loneliness.

It has been nearly three years since you last spoke to them. Choosing to once again shove your feelings down deep inside you, rather than let the pain consume you, you prepare for their arrival.

++++

“Maybe one day we will meet again, when all of this is over. Perhaps then we will have the freedom to say all that we have long held in, ” you exhaust yourself in the effort to fight back the words that are bottled up inside of you.

A void and emotionless, expression spans across his face as he finally acknowledges the weight of the moment. A single tear threatens to spill over, and he clenches his fist to fight back the giant hole that is forming in his heart.

“Y/N, ” he utters, “I-”

“Hunter! It’s time for us to go, ” Tech calls out.

++++

Your entire body jerks to a standstill when you hear the hum of their ship landing.

Hunter feels a sudden sickening sensation throughout his body.

“Deep breaths, brother. You don’t want your little reunion to be overruled by sweaty palms and rosy cheeks, ” Crosshair teases.

Hunter groans, “We are here for a short period of time until we can safely get back to Kamino. Until then, this is strictly business as usual.”

“Whatever you say Hunter,” he flicks his toothpick into the garbage receptacle with perfect aim.

The leader of the clone force, known for being courageous, daring, and valiant has abruptly shifted to a timid and uncertain man. But that’s just it. He felt like a man. A feeling only familiar when around you. Every other day of the rotation, he is merely a defective clone—a misfit who despite his enhanced abilities, is thrown into combat, aware of the fact that he is completely dispensable. Because he is merely one of hundreds of thousands of others just like him, he feels like he is just another carbon copy dispersed off of a factory line. Yet, around you, he never felt that way.

He watches out the cockpit window and sees you emerge from your homestead. His heart somersaults.

“Shall we disembark Hunter?” Tech asks.

He nods.

You are so lost in your thoughts that you hardly notice the troopers exiting their ship. It isn’t until Wrecker has scooped you up into his arms that you are jostled back to reality.

“Wreck!” You cry out in excitement as you wrap your arms around him.

Crosshair lends you a wink that you flirtatiously mirror. It’s always fun seeing him fight back a cheeky grin.

Tech is clearly holding back, so you eagerly close the distance between you two and envelope him in your arms. Initially, he hesitates but rapidly works up the bravery to reciprocate.

Chuckling at his hold on you, you tease, “I don’t know who gives the stronger hugs! You, or Wrecker.” He quickly releases you and straightens his glasses.

“Who’s this?” You motion towards the pale, almost sickly-looking clone. In fact, he looks more like a machine than a clone.

“I’m Echo, ” he extends his hand to you. Accepting it, you introduce yourself in return.

Hunter appears from behind the group. Suddenly, you lose the ability to think straight, let alone speak. His eyes meet yours and you share a somber smile. Each taking a step toward each other, you close the distance between you. Unable to resist any longer, you throw your arms around him, drawing him tightly to you.

For a moment, he stands frozen. Hunter has imagined the feeling of taking you into his arms again more than he would like to admit. At last, he pushes his thoughts aside and encircles your waist with his strong embrace.

You can feel his heartbeat slowly accelerate; at least your heart isn’t the only one threatening to beat out of your chest. You seemingly melt into each other. His hands softly tracing circles on your lower back.

Knowing that this moment cannot last as long as you’d both like, you hesitantly pull away from him. His hands grip at your hips as if he is begging you to not stray from his grasp. Your heart yearns to pull him back into your embrace and to stay there with him forever.

Becoming aware of the world around you once again, you feel your face flush into a crimson red.

“Why are they just standing there like that?” Wrecker leans down to whisper to Tech.

“Sometimes, the most important messages do not need to be said with words,” he responds softly.

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

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Fic prompt: If you feel like doing another hurt/comfort with Mobius, I would love a version of that end scene where Loki's freaking out but it actually is our Mobius. So Mobius listens to everything Loki has to say, and then they just kind of...take a breath, I suppose, before whatever they're going to do to fight Kang - perhaps Loki gets some tea, and/or an actual meal, a little sleep maybe (has he eaten since that cake on the train or slept since that brief nap in ep 2??), or whatever comfort-y stuff you want - I just need that sweet fic healing lmao.

@scintillatingshortgirl19 Thank you for the prompt and I hope you like it! <3

Summary: Takes place at the end of episode 6, where instead of saying "Who are you?" Mobius knows Loki and they pick up from where they left off in the void. Word Count: 1956 Author’s notes: I'm not feeling super confident with these prompts, so please don't judge me bear with me as I dust off my little writer-brain gears and try to find my footing with these new characters and characterizations.

Completed prompts.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mobius is saying, holding his hands up, but Loki can’t stop talking. The words are spilling from him; he’s tripping over them, and from the look on Mobius’s face Loki knows he’s not making sense, but still, he can’t stop.

“He’s set on war,” Loki babbles. “We need to prepare, Mobius.”

“Hang on.” When Loki pauses to take a breath, Mobius reaches out and places his hands on Loki’s shoulders. It’s almost comical, the way he needs to reach, as Loki towers over him. Yet Loki feels very small, too, and doesn’t protest the contact. “You’re speaking faster than my brain can process words. Breathe, okay? Start at the beginning.”

Loki doesn’t know when the beginning was. It could have been the moment he’d leapt up and grabbed Sylvie’s arm before she could land a fatal blow to their enemy; it could have been all those days (or months, or hours, Loki has no idea; time, for him, has completely ceased to exist) ago that he’d landed in a Midgardian desert and the TVA immediately swarmed upon him.

“You’re not understanding me.” Frustration colors Loki’s tone. “There’s no time to stop; he’s - they’re - coming.”

“You’re right, I’m not understanding you.” Mobius lets go of Loki’s shoulders and rubs the back of his neck. “I want to, but you gotta slow down and fill me in, okay?”

“Maybe we should take him somewhere,” says B-15. Loki had barely noticed her but now he steps back, his gaze flicking from her to Mobius, taking in the confusion on both of their faces.

“You don’t look so good,” B-15 adds, taking in Loki’s appearance. He must be a sight, he realizes; his hair is matted and tangled and he feels grimy, his skin caked with so much dirt and blood from injuries he doesn’t remember getting.

But, what difference does it make? Loki turns back to Mobius, desperate. “Mobius, listen to me. Sylvie and I -”

“Come on.” Mobius cuts him off. He moves in, taking one of Loki’s arms. “You can tell me everything, okay, Loki? I just need you to calm down and to come with me, preferably before you pass out. Hauling around a five hundred pound demigod wasn’t on my to-do list today.”

Loki bites back a sharp retort. He’s vaguely aware of B-15 taking his other arm, and it’s only once Loki’s shoulders slump and he allows himself to be led away from the shelves that the exhaustion hits him. He’s been running high on adrenaline for hours, and now that he’s moving slowly, supported on either side, all of that energy seems to drain from him at once. His knees buckle.

“Careful,” Mobius says. Were it not for him and B-15 holding him up, Loki is certain he would have collapsed. He squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on placing one foot in front of the other, not caring where they’re going. The archives, the time theater, one place is the same as another.

They move through halls that are bustling with activity, minutemen running and disembodied voices crackling over speakers. They don’t know it’s pointless, no amount of hunters in the field will matter or make a difference.

He thinks he says so, or perhaps he just imagines he does. Neither Mobius nor B-15 acknowledge him, at any rate; they only keep moving and after awhile, they arrive at the dormitories, where Loki has not been since the first day Mobius brought him here as an official TVA employee.

“Why are we here?” Loki asks, confused.

“So you can get a shower and a change of clothes,” Mobius says simply, “and then we can have some coffee and you can tell me what happened after the void.”

Loki sighs, and then nods, resisting the urge to insist that everything else could wait (until when?), because Mobius isn’t understanding the precariousness of the situation, but he knows it won’t do any good.

“Fine,” he says instead, giving up. The sooner he does what Mobius asks, the sooner Mobius will listen.

He’d not realized just how badly he needed that shower and change of clothes until he’s scrubbed the dirt and blood from his skin and allowed the hot water to beat over his sore muscles and rapidly-forming bruises. For lack of anything else to wear, he puts on a clean suit, fastening the cuffs firmly around his wrists and buttoning the collar up to his neck.

He’s sick of this outfit; he never wants to see it again but, without his magic, he has no other choice.

In the dormitory kitchen, Mobius is brewing a pot of coffee. He looks up when Loki walks in, and his mouth quirks in a half smile. “Better,” he says, “but you could still probably use some sleep and a meal.”

“Stop fussing,” Loki snaps, irritated with Mobius’s sudden desire to hover over him like a governess hovering over a petulant child who won’t eat his peas. “I hate coffee, by the way.”

“You’ve never had my coffee,” Mobius retorts, sounding unbothered. “Just sit down, okay? You still look like hell, is my point. When’s the last time anyone fussed over you, anyway?”

Loki makes a scoffing noise as he drops down into a chair at one of the small kitchen tables. “I’m sure my mother did at some point, I don’t remember.” Actually, he remembers very well that it was always his mother who looked after him when he was sick or tired or lonely, until he’d grown too old to allow himself to seek her out for comfort.

But he doesn’t want to think of his mother, who is lost to him and perhaps lost to the real Loki as well, the sacred timeline’s Loki, if enough time has progressed and Malekith has indeed run her through with a sword and left her bleeding out on the palace floor.

Loki shudders as he thinks of it, remembering the sight of his mother’s lifeless body projected onto a screen. He’d been helpless to stop it, utterly powerless, just as ultimately he’d been powerless to stop Sylvie.

His mother, dead. Sylvie, lost to him. The timeline destroyed - the end of everything. The weight of it all crashes over him; had he not already been sitting, the sheer despair of it would have brought him to his knees.

Loki drops his head into his hands instead, thinking back to Mobius’s words that first day: you were born to cause pain and suffering and death.

In retrospect, Loki knows that Mobius was merely fighting dirty, using whatever words necessary to break Loki down - the ends justify the means, and all that - but he wasn’t goddamn wrong.

How could Loki have ever believed, even for a second, that he could possibly change?

We write our own destinies now, he’d told that creepy little clock hologram, and she’d smirked, seen right through the words because they were rubbish and they both knew it.

Good luck with that.

Loki doesn’t realize he’s crying until Mobius sets down a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. He lifts his head and rubs tiredly at his tear-stained cheeks, unable to meet Mobius’s gaze as Mobius sits down across from him with his own mug.

“Here,” Mobius adds, reaching into his inside blazer pocket. He pulls out a slim, red candy stick wrapped in plastic and hands that to Loki as well.

Loki stares at it. “What is this?”

“Something better than grapes or nuts,” Mobius says dryly. “It’s a Twizzler. Popular Earth candy. I’d say don’t tell anyone I’ve stashed a bunch, but …” He trails off and shrugs, glancing around at the kitchen with forced amusement. “Doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”

He pulls out a second Twizzler and unwraps the plastic, then bites into the candy. Loki watches him for a moment, and then imitates him. “Gross,” he says, after he’s taken a bite. It’s a very bland candy, with texture not unlike rubber. “Think I prefer grapes.”

“Well, maybe Twizzlers are an acquired taste,” says Mobius.

Loki finishes the Twizzler anyway, and then takes a sip of coffee. He does usually dislike coffee, but either he’s hungrier than he’d realized or Mobius has a gift, because this cup is actually quite good.

“Okay, now let’s go back to the beginning,” Mobius prompts, after a silence. He drums his fingertips against the table. “What happened? I’m assuming you were able to enchant the murder cloud?”

All of the words that had been spilling from Loki’s lips before, so desperate to be released, now get stuck somewhere in his throat. He wraps his hands around his mug and takes another sip of coffee, wondering idly how long it had been since he’d actually had something warm to drink. Or eat, for that matter. The train on Lamentis, perhaps. A moment ago, a lifetime ago.

“We did,” he finally says. Despite the coffee, a chill breaks out over his skin and he sets the mug down, choosing to fold his arms as if to fold into himself for warmth. “We made it past Alioth and found him - the one who’s responsible for all of this.”

Just like that, the words are no longer stuck. Loki pours out the entire story, starting from when he and Sylvie had crossed the threshold into the citadel and ending with his own tumble back through the tempad’s portal into the TVA.

But he omits the kiss, only mentioning that Sylvie had distracted him to get the upper hand. He’ll never speak of it - either that Sylvie had used his feelings for her in order to betray him, or that he’d fallen for it (of course he’d fallen for it; for a few seconds there, he’d let himself believe - but, it doesn’t matter, it wasn’t real, and there are bigger problems now).

“She closed the portal before I could get back through it,” Loki says. He notices that he’s twisting his fingers together so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. He forces himself to stop. “I can only imagine she finished the job after that because, well.” He barks a laugh that sounds, even to his own ears, broken and pathetic. He used to be so good at maintaining a cool, calm facade but it, like so many other things, had been steadily breaking apart, piece by piece. There is very little left to guard the scared little ice runt who trembles at the core.

“Look at the timeline,” he adds; he laughs again and rubs his eyes against a fresh wave of tears.

For a long time, neither of them say anything. Loki finishes his coffee and Mobius eats two more Twizzlers before another word is spoken.

“So we lost.” Mobius’s voice is hollow. “We lost before we could begin to fight.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mobius shrugs. He runs a hand over his short, gray hair before letting out a laugh of his own. “He Who Remains,” he repeats, more to himself than to Loki.

Loki allows a beat to pass. “We have to try to fix it, Mobius.” The only way to ease the weight of his guilt, Loki knows, is if he goes back and tries to make it right - or to die trying.

“How are we supposed to do that?” It’s Mobius’s turn to rub his eyes. His shoulders slump and for a moment, he looks very tired. Older. Loki studies him and wonders, fleetingly, if the real Mobius is someone’s father. “I don’t even know where to begin, Loki.”

“I might.” Loki straightens. Deep down, beneath the anguish, a seed of determination has taken hold and he focuses on that; a lifeline. “But you’ll need to trust me.”

#charlotte writes #follower celebration prompt series #loki series spoilers #loki spoilers #loki tv series spoilers #loki series positive #loki + mobius (platonic)#hurt/comfort #validatemepls #i was listening to the titanic soundtrack as i wrote this lmfao

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pparkerpoetry · 3 years

Text

Face Reality (Part 13)

Title: Purple Haze Fills Your Vision (and questions fill your mind)

Summary: Purpled dreams of his past and delves too deep into something he was coded to never find.

!WARNING! mentions of blood, descriptions of blood, implied abuse

Part One

Part Fourteen

Masterlist

_____________

He’d had this nightmare before- he was sure of it. The empty stares, the rising panic. It was all too familiar, but he knew what to do differently this time. He didn’t bother checking on his brothers, he knew there was nothing to be done to save them because they were dead. Karl wasn’t.

Karl looked up like he always did in this recurring nightmare, with shock in his eyes. “How did you do this? You aren’t supposed to-”

“I know I’m not supposed to be able to change time!” Purpled snarled. “What am I?”

Karl just shook his head. “I don’t know, I don’t know, okay? You’re something different-”

The scene changed.

Purpled stood above a portal. There was a sense of yearning in him, reaching for a part of him that didn’t quite exist then. It reached for a part of him that was buried deep inside, and upon finding it burrowed in a place that couldn’t be uncovered yet, grasped to the next best thing, hidden deep in the chests of another dimension. He wasn’t aware of the feeling, but it pulled him to the portal that he knew caused such pain and hurt. The portal called to him, and alone, he wouldn’t have been able to resist it.

The scene changed as he ripped his gaze from the portal to the eyes of another hybrid that it called to.

He was in his cave, the one that he’d built so long ago, before everything. The skull on the outside called to the undead but he found himself alone inside. Just him, the darkness, and the echoes of his footsteps as he let the pitch black comfort him. If he listened, he could hear the sounds of thunder outside, and if he focused, he could see a soft glow coming from… somewhere. He wasn’t sure.

The scene changed again, this time violent, leaving him with a sick feeling in his stomach.

Purpled stood in his childhood home, watching his past unfold. A littler him stood on the bottom step of a flight of stairs, clutching a large wad of purple fabric that he saw when he looked down. A sweatshirt, given to him by his brother.

His brother, who stood by the door, looking at his little brother. “I’m sorry, Purp, but I’ve gotta go.”

“Why?” was the response, murmured and tearful.

Punz crouched down. “Hey, don’t cry. I’ll be back. It’s just a job, okay? I’ll be back before dad notices I’m gone, and then I’ll come back. You’ll be okay.”

Purpled watched Punz leave through the front door, then could only watch as time sped up, as he grew up, sitting by the door that never opened. Then, all of a sudden, he saw himself get up to open it. He was holding a sword and the innocent look that had been in his eyes was gone. If he focused, he could hear angry yelling and a crash on the other side of the house that covered the creaking of the hinges.

And, just like that, he was in the Bedwars arena.

He saw himself fighting, learning, watching. He saw himself search for any trace of his brother, just to throw away the paper clipping of a fast-as-a-blur mercenary that terrorized servers. He knew the clues, he knew the signs. He knew his brother.

A lurching feeling twisted in his chest as he was taken to another scene.

Punz stood, a gold chain around his neck, not a speck of blood on his white sweatshirt. Purpled was staring at him, holding the tears at bay as his hands rested in his purple sweatshirt.

“Purp?”

“Why’d you leave?” He bit out. “What made you leave me alone with dad?”

Punz sighed. “Listen, it’s not personal, I just-”

“Not personal?” He yelled, “I waited everyday for you to get back, and you never did.”

“The job paid well, okay? I was going to find you eventually, I swear.”

“Bullshit.” Purpled spat out. “You like killing people.”

Punz shook his head. “I’m not dealing with this. You’re doing well with yourself, I see the headlines for Bedwars all the time. I gotta dip before this body’s discovered, I’d make yourself scarce.”

And like that, Punz took out a bottle of almost purple liquid and smashed it at his feet, hiding the body and all of himself but his eyes that seemed to glow.

Not a minute later, a man in green that he’d soon be acquainted with ran by. “Hey, kid, you see uh, you see a murder?”

Purpled didn’t bother trying to help his brother. Was there even anything left of him? “He went that way.” Purpled pointed, turning and missing how the masked man tilted his head in response to his broken voice.

His actual self, the one that was dreaming, fell in pain, a gut-wrenching feeling making him cry out as the scene changed again around him. Each change hurt more and more, but the pieces were connecting- where were the last ones? What was the point of all of this?

This time, he was in the memory. He remembered this well, entering the arena feeling confident, everyone warily watching him as he stood at his base for the starting bell. It had even started well, he was winning, until his foot got caught and twisted.

He fell down, gasping as he tried to get back to his bed. He could void and respawn, it’d be fine, he liked the feeling of the wind rustling through his hair as he fell.

The message pinged that his bed had been destroyed.

His best bet now was to hide until everyone else had fought, but he didn’t make it far with his ankle stinging with every movement.

He was stabbed in the back, literally, but it wasn’t a normal blade like all of his other losses. Something was different about this one- the wound hurt more, and he wasn’t respawning in the lobby. He coughed, and vaguely heard voices speaking.

“It was a fire aspect sword, do we know if he’s a hybrid? He didn’t have anything listed, but that could be why he’s not healing.”

“Even if he was, we have no clue which type. I was told he was a hybrid, but the person who sent me wouldn’t say-”

He passed out, but when he woke up, the memory was the same. He was in a medical bed, alone. Someone walked into the room, face covered by a red, multi-colored checkered mask.

“Hello!” He said cheerily. “We’ll be getting out of here soon, and I’ve got a place that you can hang-”

“Who are you?” Purpled asked, “And why are you here? I don’t need a place to stay, thanks.”

“Oh, true.” The man mused. “They did send me to recruit all of the minors, I should probably be a little-”

“Recruit? I’m not interested in a gang, thanks.”

“Oh, no, it’s not a gang. Why don’t we start over? I’m Ponk. There’s a new server and we’d like you to be a part of it.”

Purpled looked at Ponk. He had nothing to lose, maybe this would be the escape from his past that he needed. “What the hell, why not.”

Purpled didn’t need the scene change to know how this ended up. He knew that Ponk was the brother to him that Punz never was. He knew that Ponk had been there when his own blood wasn’t, and he had readily accepted the person that he hoped would always be there. But, Ponk knew how skittish Purpled was, and didn’t search for him when he’d disappeared. Ponk thought it was a choice that he’d made.

The puzzle was almost done, in Purpled’s mind. There were two empty spots, though. A sharp sting in his chest like a wound brought him to his knees, and a voice in his mind seemed to ask if he really wanted to uncover what was coming. Seemed to ask if he really wanted what this digging would bring.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I want to see.”

It hurt, so bad, but maybe not as much as being forced to rewatch the scene in front of him.

Punz stood in front of him, like the day he’d left. This time though, Purpled wasn’t alone.

“What are you doing here?” Purpled asked. “Why are you here?”

Punz scoffed. “I’ve been here for a while. Why? Can’t handle me around?”

Ponk stepped forward. “Leave him alone.”

“I already have!” Punz yelled. “And it keeps getting worse anyway.”

Purpled couldn’t help but take a step backwards. “What?”

Punz let out a sigh. “Listen, Purpled. You don’t understand what’s going on. There’s a lot that you aren’t aware of-”

“Then help me to understand!”

“We’re always going to be different, Purp.” Punz said coldly, but there was a hint of regret and loss in his voice. “You’ll realize it later, but you’re never going to have a normal life, because there’s a reason we never knew our mother. I had no choice but to make my own path and let you pave yours.” He left after that, leaving nothing but confusion in his wake.

“Ponk? What did he mean?”

But Ponk didn’t have an answer. No one did. Not even Dream, but that might have been because he was already too far gone when Purpled got the courage to approach him.

The pain started up again, this time a burning on his back that made him stagger at the sudden intensity of it. As he felt himself wake up, he was relieved, but he heard the echoes of a voice that wasn’t quite Dream’s that lingered, the person that he was speaking to not visible.

“I’ve never seen their kind before. It sure is a shame you want to hide it from Purpled, but I get it.. If you ban the mob, you gotta ban the hybrid. I have a feeling this is going to bite you later, though. He’s a strong one. He’ll find out eventually.” The voice laughed. “I’m excited to see how this turns out, and I haven’t been excited in a while.”

________________

Purpled lurched awake. He had hoped the pain that he’d felt would fade, but if anything, it’d increased. He clenched his teeth and rolled over onto his stomach.

“Another nightmare?” Sam asked, and Purpled jerked his head up and down in the only response that he could manage. “Purp? You okay?”

“No,” He said, feeling the tears begin to roll down his cheeks. “It all hurts.”

“What, you mean the nightmare was bad? You wanna talk about it?” There went Sam with his father-like worriness.

“No-” He choked. “My body. Hurts.”

Sam frowned. “Oh. I was hoping this would come up a little further down the line, but I guess you really don’t have control over when your hybrid part comes out.”

“My what?”

“You’re a hybrid.” Sam sighed, moving slowly at first to move Purpled into his lap. “I wish Tommy’d stayed behind today- he’s the one with real experience with growing things.”

“Tubbo-” Purpled started, before getting cut off by a painful gasp.

Sam put a hand in his hair to try to comfort him. “He’s just got horns. You’re growing something… much bigger, I’d say. Of course, I’m not the expert.”

“It hurts like a bitch.” Purpled whimpered, clinging to Sam.

He didn’t hear the stressed laugh that Sam let out because he started to drift back to sleep, but it would be a slumber filled with pain and restless tossing. He wasn’t all the way asleep, but stuck in a hazy in-between that left his mind numb.

In one moment when he was slightly more awake, he could register someone mopping the sweat off of his forehead. “Ponk?” He slurred, because he couldn’t remember where he was. “Ponk, issat you?”

“No,” The voice said. “But he’s on his way. He heard your name and was already packing his bags.”

Oh, yeah. His brain managed. Sam and Ponk are dating.

“No hinky business,” Purpled said, raising a finger that trembled in the air. “This is about me, not you guys.”

“Good to know. Go back to sleep.”

He did. He couldn’t tell how much time was going by, but the pain made him gasp and shudder, so he was woken up periodically. He always fell asleep again from exhaustion or just passed out from pain though, so he wasn’t awake for long. During his snippets of consciousness, he got some words out. They didn’t all make sense, at least not to the people helping him.

“Punz?” Purpled mumbled, reaching out. “Where are you?”

Sam looked over to Ponk, who had arrived a while ago. “Why’s he asking for Punz? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them together.”

“Bad blood.” Ponk shrugged, taking one of Purpled hands. They were on the floor now, since Purpled’s squirming made having him on the couch difficult. “They’re brothers, but all I know is that Punz left home at some point and never came back. I think they were close before it, though. He never talked about it much. I think it hurts him to.”

“They’re brothers?” Sam whispered, then his eyes widened. “Is that why he wasn’t there to say goodbye to Tubbo and Tommy before they went to find Dream? Because he didn’t want to see Punz? Is their relationship that bad?”

Ponk shrugged again. “He never talked to me about it. I think he latched to me, instead, but I would like to see them make up. I just don’t know if it’s possible.”

“Punz?” Purpled’s eyes were glazed over. “I want Punz.”

“No you don’t,” Pink sighed. “You mentioned-”

“I want Punz,” Purpled sobbed. “It hurts so much.”

“Wait-” Sam said, “Are they biological brothers?”

“As far as I know. Does that make a difference?”

“He might know what kind of hybrid they are. It’d make this easier. And, y’know, I’ll ask if he can swing around to say hi. Maybe they’re both hurt but don’t want to admit it.”

Ponk smiled at Sam. “Look at you, you’re such a sweetheart. Helping your sons repair their relationships. DILF material, if you ask me.” He joked.

Sam only darted out of the room with a bright blush dusting his face.

________

Punz had been having an okay day. It was bright outside, so he’d stayed indoors. Sure, it was lonely, but he managed. He’d just barely let his thoughts slip to better times when his communicator rang. Someone was calling him. Who even still remembered he existed? He’d thought it’d been long enough all on his lonesome to be forgotten. Even by his brother, maybe.

No, he sighed. I lost the privilege of calling him my brother years ago. He hates you.

He picked up the call. “Hello?”

“Hey, Punz!” It was Awesamdude. What did he want? “I was just wondering-”

“I’m not taking jobs anymore,” Punz said, rolling his eyes. “Thanks for calling.”

“Wait! I just wanted to ask you some questions about you and Purpled, since you’re his brother.”

Punz froze. “Who told you that we were brothers?”

“Ponk did, but that’s not important. Purpled’s-”

“Is he okay?” Punz asked, ignoring how his heart rose into his throat. He didn’t know what would happen if Purpled wasn’t.

“Listen, it’s, he’ll be okay, but-”

Punz squinted into nothing. “I’ll be right there. Drop the coords.”

He hung up before Sam could say he’d lost the right to see Purpled, like he probably would have. He needed to make sure that Purpled was okay, even if it caused a respawn back to his house. Whatever happened would be deserved, anyway.

It wouldn’t take him long to get there, he was naturally fast, so he wasn’t concerned with time. He flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt to shield his face from the unyielding sun and sighed. He’d have to face his past eventually, why not now?

____________

The next time Purpled woke up, the pain had doubled. He could feel the stabbing sensation whenever he moved at all, but this time, there was a comforting weight keeping him off of the floor.

He already knew who it was. He’d been sick before, and there was only one person who did this. “Punz?” God, his voice sounded so broken. So weak. Vulnerable. Everything he’d trained himself to never show.

“Yeah, Purp. I’m here.”

“You can’t be.” Purpled murmured, still not completely sure he was awake. “You hate me.”

“No,” Came the hushed response. “God, no. I could never hate you.”

Purpled scrunched up his face. “But you left.”

“I wanted a better future for us.” It seemed like that was it, but then more words tumbled. “It was only supposed to be short jobs so that I could go back to you until I had enough to buy our way onto a server that’d take us.” The voice cracked, filled with emotion, “You didn’t deserve to be alone with dad. You didn’t deserve any of the bad things that’ve happened to you. Sam told me about the underground arena- God, Purpled. I’m a horrible brother. I was stressed, and needed more money, and then I had admins on my tail that I couldn’t lead to you… I’m an awful person.”

“A bitch, yeah,” Purpled sighed, sinking closer to sleep, or at least what he thought was sleep. The pain made it hard to tell. “But not a bad person. You tried your best.”

“It wasn’t enough.” Punz sniffled. “And now you’re here, and I never even bothered to mention to you before that we were hybrids. I just… I got so little features I figured you would, too.”

“You did tell me I was a hybrid, but not directly. When we first met here, remember?”

It was quiet as Punz pondered on it. “How do you remember that?”

“I’ve had lots of time to think.” Purpled mused, before hissing as another wave of pain rolled over him. “I’ve been alone a lot.”

“Me too.” Punz shifted uneasily. “I don’t like being alone.”

“Me either. It sucks.” Purpled said, and he almost continued before the pain came back worse than ever. “Punz? What’s happening? Why’s it hurt so much?”

“You’re growing wings, Purp.”

_____________

The actual emergence of the wings wasn’t as painful as Purpled had thought it would be. It hurt, yeah, but it was over pretty quickly, unlike before when they were stretching through his skin. He could tell there was a lot of blood, too, but not by looking. He made sure not to look. He could feel the warmness of the liquid as it spilled down his back, and he tried his hardest to stay awake, but the appeal of sleep pulled him back in.

He was woken up by Tommy’s voice. “Woah, those’re fuckin’ sick!”

Nothing could have convinced him to lift his head up. He was too tired. He’d just slept ages, he thought, but it wasn’t enough. “What?” He mumbled. “You’re too loud.” Purpled managed to turn his head a little, though, so as to look at who was speaking to him.

Tommy pulled a face. “Ugh, you look sick. And not in a good way. Your wings look epic, though.”

______________

Purpled didn’t find out what Tommy had meant until the afternoon, when the three men who’d been looking after him said he could get up. He went to the bathroom to look in the mirror, because he reasoned that it wasn’t fair that everyone got to see them and not him. They were his wings, for crying out loud.

“Fuck,” He muttered. “They do look sick.”

The wings were a weird material that he couldn’t quite place. They looked almost like a bat’s, structure wise, but the actual material looked more delicate. More fragile. It was cool to the touch, and soft, but not feathery.

He moved them as much as he could in the relatively small bathroom, and peered at his reflection.

His face was a little more sunken than usual. Not so noticeably, but if you looked close enough, you could see hints of purple bags under his eyes. Was his skin a little more grey than it had been? He leaned in towards the glass to look again.

What was wrong with his eyes? They didn’t look super different, but- he turned off the lights and stayed in the dark for a moment, then turned them back on. Yup. His eyes were glowing. He had wings, he looked like he constantly had one foot in the grave, and his eyes glowed. What was he?

He meandered back out to where everyone was waiting in the living room. “Well?” He asked, spinning around and looking at Punz.

“Well, what?”

“What are we? My eyes are all glowy, and they weren’t yesterday, so clearly something’s up.”

Punz laughed uneasily. “I am… not sure. I’m pretty sure it’s a mob that Dream banned when he made the server. This is the only server I’ve been on, though, so don’t quote me on that. I guess I just never bothered to find out.”

Tommy looked up from the other side of the room, where he sat with Fundy, who was preening his wings. “As reluctant as I am to say it, Phil might know. He’s got his hardcore worlds that he used to always escape to. Sometimes still does.”

“So all the families are getting past issues, huh?” Purpled mused, wandering into the kitchen because fuck, he was hungry.

Tommy squawked. Almost literally. “We don’t have issues, we just… aren’t on the best of terms.”

Purpled laughed. “Yeah, your family hasn’t got any trauma. Shall we expect a christmas card this year?” His laughing turned into a screech as he saw a cat on the counter. “Get that thing out of here!”

Ranboo popped his head in. “What, the cat? I just brought her in. She was hungry. You’re usually fine with the strays I bring in.”

He frantically shook his head as he sped back to the living room to huddle next to Pu- his brother. “Not today. Not cats.”

“So, that’s another trait that you got and I didn’t.” Punz grinned. “I’m fine with cats.”

“Dogs are so much better though,” Purpled argued. “What’s odd about you, then?”

Punz considered that for a moment. “Well, if I’m in the sun too much I get a headache. My eyes glow, too, and I’m real fast.”

“Like the flash?” Tommy asked, and Punz shrugged.

“Oh, I remember that your eyes still show when you splash an invis pot.” Purpled mentioned, mind going back to the memory- dream- flashback? thing he’d had before his wings started growing in.

“Aw, wait,” Tommy complained. “Your wings can’t be preened. They just sit there looking badass and mine need all this care.”

“At least you don’t look like you need a week of sleep all the time,” Purpled shot back, and it was silent after that.

No one expected anything to happen, no one expected the night would linger as Purpled gazed out of the window and into the stars as the twinkled their approval. Certainly, then, no one expected a harsh banging at the door as they got ready for bed.

Sam got up slowly, holding his sword loosely as he walked towards the door. The knocking got more desperate, so he turned the handle.

No one expected Technoblade to be the one outside.

“Techno?” Sam asked, gripping his sword a little more.

“Please,” Techno panted, “You have to help him. We were too far from our home, this was the closest place, please,”

It was then that Sam noticed Phil, leaning on Techno. It was then that Sam looked closer and realized that Techno hadn’t gotten a new red cloak. His old one was just soaked with Phil’s blood.

“Geez,” Sam hissed, stepping aside to let Techno in. He wasn’t cruel enough to deny the men a place to stay, but there was a small corner of his mind that spoke of everything that could go wrong. “Come on in, I’ll… Well, I’ll do my best.”

Sam had to help hold Phil up, because he could tell that Techno was near ready to collapse. In fact, he did, as soon as the weight of his oldest friend had been removed from his shoulders.

He had no choice but to leave Techno on the ground as he turned his attention to Phil, whose chest rose so slightly after each breath that he feared Techno was too late.

It was a long night, with no sleep, but those sorts of nights were no stranger to Sam. He hadn’t slept the previous night, either. It was probably an issue, but he kept dreaming of his past and his mistakes, so it was better to stay awake.

Had he slept the night before that? Sam wasn’t sure.

The night was still dark as Sam hovered over his patient. He had been able to stop a bit ago, but he still bit his lip. If Phil died in his care, Techno would kill him. Maybe his boys, too. That was something he needed to avoid at all cost.

Sam was about to tackle the massive feat of getting Techno into a bed of his own when there was a soft knock on the door. When he opened it, he looked down to see Purpled.

“You should be asleep,” He scolded softly. “You had a big day today.”

Purpled glared at him and leaned against his side. “I can’t. You’re up.”

“You don’t have to wait for me,” Sam smiled, “Go to bed.”

“No,” Purpled mumbled. “I can’t. I can’t fall asleep while you’re awake. I don’t know why, but I can tell you’re awake and I can’t fall asleep.”

Sam frowned. “It might be a hybrid thing. Phil’s here, so he can answer once he’s awake. I’ll be up for a while longer, but if you want to help, you can.”

And that, my friends, is how a seven foot tall creeper and a six foot tall winged guy tried to lift a large piglin hybrid off of the floor as if their limbs weren’t like sticks. It was comical, but the only one who could have witnessed it had been bleeding out a few hours ago.

Purpled managed to get Sam asleep in one of the other beds before curling up next to him. He didn’t know why he couldn’t fall asleep while others were up, but he knew it’d be tough. They all struggled with nightmares, even him, so he figured that many nights would be spent restless.

The next morning, Techno was the one that woke Sam and Purpled up.

“Hello?” Sam asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

“Hi,” Techno responded. “Is Phil gonna be okay?”

For a second, Sam had forgotten the two new guests in his house. “Oh,” he mumbled, and let his head fall back onto the pillow. “Yeah, he’ll be fine. Are you alright, though?”

Techno scoffed. “Of course I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked again, raising an eyebrow. “You collapsed on the floor as soon as Phil-”

“Okay, fine.” He relented. “I haven’t been great recently.”

“...Why?” Purpled asked, looking at Techno the way a little kid might look at Santa. Sam realized, Purpled played Bedwars, he’d probably grown up on stories of the piglin hybrid. This was probably exciting, even if his opinion on Techno had been clouded by Tommy and Ranboo.

“Been feeling a little guilty, is all. It’s nothing.” Techno said, but Sam could see the sorrow in his eyes.

“Guilty about what?”

“Everything,” Techno answered simply. “What is there to not be guilty about?”

Purpled squinted at him. “You know, if you apologized, I’m sure they’d accept it. They miss you, even if they don’t want to admit it.”

“You don’t get it,” Techno sighed, sitting back down on the bed he had slept in. “I need to keep my distance.”

“Why?” Sam interrupted, getting up to check on Phil and the rest of his boys.

“Because I meant what I said back then. I meant it all, and there’s no way to apologise for something I never felt sorry for.”

“But you do now, don’t you?” Purpled asked, staring. He could tell that his eyes were a little unnerving, but he let them stay that way. “Right?”

“Of course I do. Phil and I spent days talking about what we did, why it was wrong, and eventually, it just kind of… it just hit us, I guess, how many lives we’d ruined.” Techno looked at Phil. “He’s lived so long, he doesn’t register it anymore, and the voices don’t care enough to stop me. It’s so easy to lose control, but I don’t want to, anymore.” Techno put his face into his hands as if to hide how vulnerable he was being to someone much younger than himself. “I just want the family we used to be.”

“You’re never going to get there.” Purpled said, and it hurt him to, but it was the truth. “You can’t just escape the past, but you can make a better future.”

“And what would you have me do?” Techno shook his head. “I’m pretty sure you can’t help me, kid.”

“I can, if you’d listen to me. I think you should apologise to Tommy and Ranboo. They’re hurt, and the first step to repairing your relationship is to acknowledge what you did. Then, I don’t know, maybe you could move closer, if it goes well.”

Techno’s voice was muffled. “And what if it doesn’t?”

“Then you live with the consequences of your actions,” Purpled shrugged, “but they get closure and you know that there was nothing else you could do.”

Sam had left a while ago, leaving the pair to their silence. Punz came in a bit later to find Purpled, and paused when he saw Techno.

“Relax,” Techno grumbled. “He’s actually been pretty helpful. I’m not gonna hurt him.”

“You better not,” Punz snapped, but stopped when Purpled gave him a look.

Purpled mentioned the ‘knowing when people are awake’ bit to Punz, who hummed, and sat down. The younger of the two brothers was deep in his thought, before something struck him. “Hey, Technoblade, do you have something in your inventory that you’re hiding?”

Punz frowned. “Hey, you’re right. I feel a little… pull, almost.”

“I’ve got something,” Techno said warily, “but Ranboo wasn’t a fan of it last time, so I took it off before I got here.” He took out a bundle of silky material that almost resembled the wings that sat on Purpled’s back under his sweatshirt.

“What is it?” He asked, leaning forward a little to look at it.

“Elytra.” Came another voice. Phil’s eyes were still heavy with sleep, but he tried to sit up.

“Take it easy, Phil. You’re still recovering.”

Phil chuckled. “It takes more than that to kill me, Techno, I’m fine. Anyway, those are Elytra. You guys are hybrids, aren’t you?”

“How do you know?” Purpled wondered, and he didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“You hold yourself differently, like I do.” Phil said simply, pointing over his shoulder with a thumb. “Wings are heavy, and affect posture even when you’ve gotten used to them.” After a moment, he shrugged. “Well? Are we going to see them? I assume you don’t know what you are if you’re part of a mob that has something to do with elytra.”

Purpled took off his sweatshirt, revealing another purple shirt that had a hole cut in the back. His wings unfurled, and he relaxed as they stretched.

“Hm,” Phil mumbled. “And do you have any other characteristics?”

Between the two brothers, they had quite a list, and by the end of it, Phil was just nodding along.

“So?” Punz asked. “What are we?”

Phil looked into Purpled’s eyes, which were glowing slightly more, surrounded by dark circles and a hopeless look. He knew that the younger man had been through more than he deserved, and if this was the start of being better, than he’d take it.

“Well, as I see it, the wings leave two options, but the list leaves only one possibility. The simplest reason that I can explain is that Elytra are made of, or at least repaired by, a material called phantom membrane, which you get from-”

“Phantoms.” Purpled breathed, and suddenly, everything clicked.

#purpled #ranboo #tommyinnit #awesamdude #punz #ponk #technoblade #dream #dreamxd #philza #awesamponk #hybrid #angst #tw #found family #ao3 #fic #blood #abuse #phantom!purpled #winged!#immortal

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aquidragon · 4 years

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Purple (Part 1)

Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: Spencer sometimes considered his eidetic memory a curse, however when he spots a gorgeous woman crossing the street with a purple ribbon, he can’t help but fall heads over heels for her. However, there’s more to her than it seems... Warning(s): Mentions of blood and alludes to violence Word Count: 2.2k A/N: Here’s my first ever x reader series! Thank you to @criesinreid for beta-reading this for me! (Part One: Here) (Part Two: x) (MASTERLIST) ---

---

Spencer Reid POV

It was a sunny Tuesday morning when I saw her, with beautiful h/c hair that was tied with a purple ribbon. Maybe it was because of the color, since purple was my favorite, but I felt like I was drawn to her. I watched with a rather stupid expression as she walked past me, with a wide smile from across the street. I felt my heart flutter and my face get warm. She was gorgeous. My eidetic memory allowed me to picture her smile and her shining h/c hair as she chased after her friends. After a few days, I caught myself imagining holding her hand and taking her out on dates. Would she like attending the library with me? What kind of genres did she enjoy? I could tell that she at least could read, since she was holding a few books close to her chest as she ran. I could no longer focus the book I held in my hands, the words seemed jumbled and scrambled. Nothing made sense, except for the woman that had blessed my very mind. The few seconds that I had my eyes on her, I couldn’t get her picture out of my vision. I let out a small sigh as I closed my book, allowing my mind to drift to her again.

“Pretty boy has got a crush.” The familiar teasing voice of my colleague joked from right above me. I looked up from my slouched position on the jet’s couch, I snorted, brushing over my lower lip with my tongue. “I-I don’t have a crush.” I responded, which I knew wasn’t convincing as Morgan laughed and took a seat beside me.

“Come on, you’ve been staring out into space.” He gently patted my shoulder, his dark eyes just dancing with playfulness. “So, who is she?” The older FBI agent asked, earning a small groan from me. “I told you I don’t have a crush.” I unintentionally let my voice lift up an octave, which gave away my lie. The look on Derrik’s face made me sigh and finally give in. “I saw this girl across the street from the coffee shop I frequent before work, Morgan she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” I knew it was rather dramatic, but it was true. “Well, did you get her number?” My co-worker asked, I shook my head sadly. “I didn’t get to her, she was running after some friends.” The sinking feeling in my chest began to drag down my mood. I suddenly felt like a dunce, how couldn’t I have just ran to her, asked for her name, her number, anything?

I cursed my inept ability to flirt, or talk to women in general. Looking at my friend made my brain begin to curse itself. I wasn’t as confident as Morgan, I couldn’t even cross the street to go after the girl that I was really fond of. This made me bring my hands up to my face, I dragged my palms over my eyes, I was much too tired to think too much about my hopeless attempts at relationships.

Morgan must’ve noticed my downwards spiral into hopelessness, because he patted my shoulder a few more times as the plane began to shake into the descent. “Hey don’t lose hope, she might live in DC, maybe you’ll see her again.” I looked up at him again, rubbing one of my eyes as the pressure rapidly changed. “How? Morgan I can’t just search DC for her, there’s 705,749 people that live in DC.” I challenged, hopelessness sinking deeper into my chest. I also felt frantic, I felt this paranoid need to find this woman again.

Morgan laughed, shaking his head. “Oh I know you Doctor Spencer Reid, you’ll find this woman.” Before I could respond with more statistics about the likeness of me running into a random person I hadn’t even met, the plane started to rumble on the runway. The rest of my team all groaned as they were awoken from their naps on the five hour flight we had just endured in Seattle.

After the plane was landed, I begrudgingly dragged my suitcase behind me towards the BAU offices. I wasn’t looking forward to doing paperwork, usually I could whisk through them with ease, but the nagging feeling in my heart made it impossible to think. All I could think about was her, and that purple ribbon that bounced with her movements as she ran. I scuffled all my paperwork back into a file, I would fill it out tomorrow morning, after my third coffee of the day. I was just about to leave when I heard the soft voice of my closest friend.

“Leaving so soon Spence?” JJ asked tiredly, I could tell that she was struggling to keep her eyes open. “Yeah- I’m too tired to do paperwork tonight.” I responded briskly, bringing up three of my fingers to rub one of my eyes. “Wow, Spencer Reid, too tired to do paperwork?” The teasing voice of Penelope came next, her entire body was limp and exhausted. I couldn’t help but crack a small smile, gathering up the last of my stuff. “Yeah-I have plans” I responded nervously. I couldn’t tell Penelope that I had a crush on a girl I randomly laid eyes on. I’m sure I could just tell the woman that the mystery girl owned a purple ribbon and she could find my crush within a couple hours. Tops.

“Ooo plans?” Garcia asked, a little bit of excitement glittered in her eyes. I opened my mouth to tell her that it was just a trip to the library, but Morgan stepped on. “Woah now Baby Girl, we can’t have our pretty boy here giving away his secrets.” He sent a wink at me, which made me chuckle. “I gotta go guys, see you on Monday.” I walked out of the office, heading towards the silver elevator that would take me to the main floor.

Now, I normally don’t believe in dream analysis. There’s just not enough evidence to prove that our dreams are somehow linked to ourselves. However, the events in my dream felt so unbelievably real. I saw the woman again, with her gorgeous h/l hair and sparkling e/c eyes. We were in a void, which reminded me of being underwater. My hair was fanned around my head, as if I was swimming. I looked back over at the woman, her hair was also floating around her pretty face. The purple ribbon was no longer on her head, but instead it was tied around her pinky finger.

“Spencer, look!” She spoke, but her voice was echoed, and sounded like a weird mix of voices. “We’re connected.” I blinked, confused. “Connected?” I muttered to myself, before I felt a tug at my pinky finger, making me look down. Just like the woman’s, a purple ribbon was tight around my finger, and led just to her pinky.

I let a joyous laugh bubble out of my chest. “I guess we are.” I looked back at the girl, she was now closer. Her face was slightly blurry, but it also seemed so clear. She seemed sad, from the way her hands floated over my shoulders. “Please find me.” The woman with the purple ribbon whispered, her voice softening. “I need you.” Then I heard gunshots, screaming, and a woman screaming for help. I moved to protect the girl, but she was gone, I was now in a decrepit looking house. I unholstered my gun, approaching the door where I heard the noises. Blood began pouring from the crack between the door and floor. I let out a scream.

And then I woke up

--- Y/N L/N POV

Any method to get away from my psycho family was a win for me. Even if it meant hanging out with my shitty friends from high school, who did nothing but cause trouble and get high. Now I didn’t really have an issue with people getting high, I once dabbled in it when I was in my early college years. I only stopped when I started to fall behind in my classes.

So today, I decided I was going to the cute little coffee shop I passed after stopping at the library. I’ve been in a desperate need for coffee anyway. Looking into the mirror of my vanity, I cautiously applied makeup to my face. Brushing a hint of blush onto my cheeks as I smiled at myself. I loved makeup, maybe it was because my parents never let me use it growing up. They believed it was “against God's will” or yadda yadda.

It didn’t matter anymore, I lived in my own shitty apartment, so I could do whatever I wanted to myself. After finishing up the last touches to my face, I reached over to tie my ribbon. I didn’t know why, but I was always drawn to the color purple, so I bought a lot of purple-colored accessories. My ribbon was my most prized accessory though, I could tie it in my hair in whatever way I saw fit.

So, I tied it in my favorite way before admiring myself in the mirror once again. I tried to ignore the subtle scars marking certain locations on my face, but I felt like my makeup covered them well. Feeling satisfied, I switched off the lights, grabbed my phone and headed out.

“Ugh seriously?” I exclaimed as I stepped outside, only to feel the subtle drops of rain on my hair. The coffee place was only a block or so from my apartment complex, and I really didn’t feel like digging for my keys again. So, I bolted, hurrying to the cafe as the rain started to pelt down harder.

Once I reached the building, I threw open the door and got inside. Breathing heavily, I searched my purse for my wallet and made my way over to the line. The line went by fast, I ordered my coffee and went to sit down right by the window. A storm had rolled in, I sipped at my beverage as I watched people outside scramble about in hopes for shelter.

One of them being a handsome lanky man that I swore I saw somewhere. He glanced at me from outside, through the window, and his face lit up. He swiftly entered the cafe, and made a beeline over to me. He didn’t order anything, but the baristas seemed to recognize him, one of them even waved.

“I-I’m sorry is this seat taken?” The brunette asked, breathlessly, as he stood behind the seat next to me. I shook my head, scooting my chair over so he could get into the one he wanted. “Do I know you from somewhere?” I asked, curiously, I swore I recognized him.

The handsome man seemed surprised, he took off his soaked jacket. “Uh, I saw you last Tuesday.” He mumbled, his voice squeaking a bit. I bit the corner of my mouth and observed him from head to toe. He was well-dressed, with a dark grey cardigan over what seemed to be a dress shirt and tie. He wore dress pants, but had two well-worn converse and two differently colored socks.

Suddenly it came to me, I had glanced at him as I rushed to catch up with my friends. I remembered that I really wanted to look back at him again, but had a time constraint. “Oh yeah!” I grinned, taking another sip of my caffeinated beverage. “I remember now.” The man seemed pleased at my words, fumbling with the ends of his cardigan nervously. “Oh, well, I’m Doctor Reid.” The man seemed like he wanted to shake my hand, but kept his hands as far from mine as possible. He nervously cleared his throat, looking at me in the eyes. “Doctor Spencer Reid.” Spencer gave me a hopeful smile, which I returned. “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you Doctor, my name is Y/n.” I didn’t bother saying my last name, I didn’t want to be associated with it.

“No please, call me Spencer.” The fawn-brown haired doctor sounded tense. “No need to use formalities with me here.” He clarified, making me laugh. “Alright, alright. Spencer it is then.” When our eyes met, I swore that Spencer looked at me with so much intensity I thought I would explode. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to say something.

Ring

“Oh sorry lemme get that.” The doctor scrambled into his pocket, pulling out an ancient flip phone and answering the call. “What? Already?” He paused, listening into the call, I began to become more intrigued by the minute. His face fell, his once bright and handsome face turned into one that resembled haunted somberness. “I understand, I’ll be there right away Hotch.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, not bothering to suppress my curiosity. “It’s my-job.” Spencer answered sluggishly, making a face as he slid on his damp jacket. “Oh?” I watched as he scrambled for a napkin and he fished a pen from his satchel.

“Call me?” The honey-eyed man asked hopefully, after sketching out his number on the paper. I nodded, taking the napkin into my hand, scanning over the haphazardly written numbers. “Of course-” I responded, but Spencer was already halfway out the door. I snorted, slipping out my phone and typing in the man’s number. Now THIS will be interesting...

---

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #multiparter #spencer reid fluff #purple #criminal minds #reader insert #implied soulmates

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hysteriium · 5 years

Text

Dazzling Devil;

(A/N): I made this for @jokerfleckk because she had an amazing idea and I couldn’t resist???? Also just want to say @pennyship is my BABE AND I LOVE HER SM FOR GOING OVER THIS BEFORE I POSTED!

Summary: Literally rewrote the whole Murray sequence lol rip.

Pairing: Joker x reader

Warnings: smutty themes (not entirely), violence, swearing!

////

Anxiously, you tugged at the threading of your dress. The loose strings which, although hidden for the most part, twisted between your relentless digits, acting as an escape from the simmering pressure of your surroundings. Though, as the enthusiastic, high-spirited melody of the live band, to your right, resonated in one explosive blow, this momentary retreat was short-lived.

“We’re back with our guest, Dr. (L/n)!”

His introduction speedily brought you back to reality, and you promptly dropped the hem of your dress, eyes snapping towards him.

“Now!” Murray paused, immediately, turning to you.

His expression was beaming as he leaned forward in his chair, “you gotta see our next guest for yourself. Will you stick around? Maybe you can help, I’m pretty sure he could use a doctor.”

“Oh,” you paused, brows furrowing, “does he have sexual problems?”

“He looks like he’s got a lot of problems.” Murray retorted, and you internally cringed at his mocking tone. You weren’t sure who his next ‘guest’ was, though if what Murray said was in some way true, you couldn’t imagine being ridiculed for it made the mystery guest very happy.

The audience, as always, laughed.

“You’ll see,” he grinned, pointing towards one of the monitors.

“Play the clip!”

Everyone, the audience included, watched as the monitor transitioned from Murray to a man on stage. In what you assumed was provoked by his nervousness, sweat coated his forehead, trailing down his face.

It quickly became apparent that the man had pseudobulbar affect, a condition while you knew of, weren’t particularly acquainted with – your field mainly contrived of sex therapy.

You watched, sadly entranced, as his hands desperately clenched at his throat, trying to force his planned jokes out, only for a flurry of broken phrases to wryly pass his lips. Composing himself appeared to be an arduous task, and the dread that built up at the sight of those making fun of him, of those laughing, neared its peak. The sensation was a prominent discomfort in your gut; his suffering was deemed as a hilarity – an oddity to poke fun at – and you were the only one who empathised; who understood the anguish lost in the gloss of his eyes. Murray was wrong for making fun of this man, wrong for making fun of someone who had a condition.

As you gazed at the audience’s thundering hysterics in shame – reflecting on the filth Gotham had become, the video ended shortly after. Murray’s voice returned once more.

“Okay, you may have seen that clip of our next guest when we first played it two weeks ago. Now before he comes out, I just want to say that we’re all heartbroken and sensitive to what’s going on here in the city. But, honestly, I think we’re in need of a good laugh, and this is how he wanted to come out. So, please welcome, Joker!”

On cue, the audience prompts flashed, begging for applause. The public complied and projected their excitement while the band played its specific introductory piece.

A man strutted on stage, and an abundance of adjectives filled your mind. ‘Colourful’ had been one among the heavy flow, ‘confident’ was another and following short behind, dare you say, ‘magnetic.’

Within nanoseconds, your eyes had snapped to the male, drinking in his features. Even though they were hidden behind a thick coat of white greasepaint, as well as the ever so widespread symbolism of the clownish makeup, it wasn’t hard for you to conclude that the man who prowled his way on stage in an ostentatious manner, like a lion, was damn near gorgeous. The clip truly hadn’t done him justice.

‘Joker’ as Murray had called him, was a name which failed to relinquish its robust hold on your thoughts; a metronome – repetitious and in tune.

With a certain finesse, the man, after flicking his cigarette behind him uncaringly, propelled himself to his right in a series of twirls. His striking pine green hair floated behind him, and the carmine jacket followed similarly.

Joker’s entrance secretly had you squirming in your seat.

It was something you hated to admit, let alone acknowledge. You barely knew the guy – yet there was something about him that had you aching for more. Maybe it was the air of danger which stuck to him like a potent kind of glue, fabricating his demeanour. Or perhaps it was how those frozen eyes snapped towards you; harsh and determined, forcing you to scramble up from your seat.

Shit, maybe you needed a doctor.

You didn’t have time to dwell on it because once he halted the rhythmic snapping of his fingers and shook Murray’s hand, he strode right for you. The flickering twitch of his right eyebrow, complemented with his heart-stopping grin, was the last visible feature of his face as he grabbed your own with large, delicate hands.

When he so unexpectedly pressed his painted lips to yours, you glaciated. Slender were his digits, majority sliding behind your ear, while his ring and pinky pressed up against the distinctive bone of your cheeks. His thumbs occasionally stroked the skin of your neck obliging a deep, thrilling, full-bodied shiver.

Immediately, the peculiar tang of his face paint flooded your senses, and this only worsened when you kissed back. Eyes long since fluttered shut, you felt his surprise when you responded, a gentle vibration – a grunt – tingling against your lips. The fury of the crowd’s applause, wolf whistles and shouts included, were lost on you as you focused on the softness of Joker’s lips, his rhythm slow and sensual, taking their time to sync with yours.

When he suddenly pulled you closer to him, a sultry growl left his lips; a noise riddled with an enticing hunger. No longer were those hands at your chin, they had slithered down your body, seizing your waist with an abrasive squeeze.

To say your body was on fire was an understatement.

You’re unsure as to whether Joker had noticed the applause dramatically stop at his bold movements, the room worryingly silent except for the occasional awkward cough. To this, you were conscious of, very much so, but the lingering exhilaration coursing through you like a fever – at the prospect of millions of eyes watching the two of you clinging to each other – had you grinding against him. It was a move equally as brazen, though one he was equivalently pleased at; reciprocating. As he pushed up against you, a muffled moan left your stained lips, swollen, as you felt the outline of his stiffened cock in his trousers. You were completely, and utterly, devoid of shame.

What you were both unaware of, however, were the producers signing desperately to cut the show. Many, too shocked, upon weirded out to do so, had missed the infamous ‘t’ signal, hypnotised by the bizarre scene ahead.

Fuck you, Murray.

When you opened your mouth a little wider, Joker, not missing a beat slid his tongue past, hardly asking permission. Well and truly, the slickness between your legs had built up, and you were hyper-aware of it pooling in your panties. Giddiness was hardly the feeling you would associate with your shared moment, more accurately a carnal lust; a need displayed in the fervid movement of your leg and how it moved against his hip. The very same hands which were once gentle, eagerly maneuvered to your thigh, supporting the limb. Then, without warning – the other.

The swift movement had you breaking away from the man – only for a second – with a titter. Furious steps, which sounded more like stumbles, filled the silent room, then a frantic voice.

“We’ll be right back folks!”

At this, Joker, with a dramatic roll of his eyes, pulled away to look at the hollering mystery man. His make up was smudged beyond belief – namely his lips, though his sinful grin seemed to be something that couldn’t be rubbed off. When he directed his attention back to you, his tongue trailed over his teeth, placing you down. With a dangerous glint in his eye, he turned towards the audience, adjusting his waistcoat and his lapels.

“Y-you – uh – alright...doctor?” Murray asked you, bewildered.

You refused to look at Murray, while you were red-faced and fidgety, it was hardly because you were embarrassed.

Joker’s eyes hadn’t left yours as his nose wrinkled in laughter.

////

If you knew of the events which would inevitably transpire that night, there would have been a small part of you that wished you never met Joker. That you were never given the opportunity to swallow the pill that so willingly established your addiction. He was unlike any man you had met before.

Wild, eccentric, unafraid.

Mysterious.

Curiosity killed the cat, however, and before you knew it, you were at Joker’s side. The havoc of the studio was nothing compared to the blaze raging within his eyes. He was chaos, beauty and grace – a madman all wrapped into one.

His hand reached out to yours, Murray’s bloodied corpse an afterthought. The Joker, who had thrown the gun somewhere, a move similar to the cigarette he had tossed prior, was void of concern. While you had been shocked at the violent move, Murray’s blood splattering across your dress, a morbid interest had you reach out for him.

His exuberance, almost child-like, heightened when you interlaced your hands together. Yet to depart from the camera’s view, he pulled you up from your seat and spun you around, then, finally dipped you. His hands had once again snaked your waist. His lips were mere centimetres from yours as his breath, warm, tingled against yours; teasing. You wanted to kiss them again – badly – and you knew he could tell from the wicked grin contorting his face.

Oh, how absolutely enthralled you were.

“Burn Gotham with me,” he whispered.

It was almost comedic. The way that poisonous phrase was uttered like it had in fact been something so innocuous, the way his eyes glistened with a newfound hope; hell, you would have thought he had asked you to prom.

Perhaps a demagogue, perhaps not; what you did know was that he had changed Gotham. Propelled it into chaos with the deaths of those three men. Tension had been building up for God knew how long, but he had been the catalyst for the end. Gotham had finally reached its boiling point.

Without thinking, you breathed an agreement.

And, at that moment, you had sold your soul.

To the dazzling devil.

#joker x reader #joaquin phoenix joker #joker 2019 #joker imagine #joker x you #the joker x reader #dc x reader #dc #joker headcannons #my writing #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine

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moirai-au · 4 years

Text

Timeline: arc 6 - Aftermath, about a week after the Orator is defeated

Warnings: shippy, Davil, vague mentions of alcoholism and self-harm

Taglist: @immabethehero @bupine @tabbynerdicat @i-maybe-exist @its-ethan-bro @sandinthetardis @honestlyitsjustkenna @taikeero-lecoredier @idkwheresanti

if any of yall (18+ only for the love of god please) wanna see the ns*w version, it’s over here.

“And you still won’t tell me where we’re going, or what we’re even doing.”

“Nope! That’s the whole concept of a surprise, babe.”

Cecil pursed his lips, unamused. He closed the book he’d been finishing just a moment prior and set it aside, on the growing pile of useless volumes right next to the desk. It wasn’t as big or as comfortable as the one in his own apartment, but it made do. “You do know I still have three other idiots to take care of here, right?”

“They’ll be fine, trust me. Charlie can take care of himself, Mars barely does anything but sleep for now, and Ollie’s watching over him. You can leave for a few hours without the mansion burning to the ground, you know.”

Cecil raised a brow. “...Were you even here for the last month and a half?”

“Painfully present, yeah,” Dave chuckled. “Remember the smell of the oven melting? I still don’t understand how the kid pulled that one off.”

The older man groaned. “For someone who wanted to reassure me, you’re not doing a very good job of it.”

“Oh c’mon! It’s gonna be okay, I’m sure of it. Besides, you really need a break.”

“I do not!” Cecil protested, distractedly scratching at his appearing stubble. Dave peered up at him with a deadpan look, considering his wrinkled clothes, his emaciated face and the dark rings under his eyes. “...Really? You know what, it doesn’t matter,” he shook his head, his blue eyes hardening. “This is me putting my foot down, not a negotiation. I’m not gonna sit here and let you run yourself into the ground like this. You’re coming with me, and that’s final.”

The doctor stared at the younger man, taken aback- he’d never heard him use this tone before. it was firm, confident, and evidently left no room for complaint. “...Fine.” he heard himself say before he even realized it. Verdammt. Maybe he was more tired than he thought, giving in that easily.

Or maybe Dave just had this natural sense of authority Cecil had never seen before, because he’d never actually needed it. It actually made sense, considering he was a father.

Thinking about it now, it was obvious. Cecil could’ve hit himself.

“Great!” David beamed, his previous sternness gone as fast as it had arrived. “Just lemme grab a few things first, and pack warm clothes. I’ll get my car.”

“I- your car?” the doctor repeated, his confusion growing- just how far was Dave planning to take them? The smaller male only winked in response, an impish grin on his tanned face. “You’ll see.”

***

It was an abnormally warm night for mid-december.

Well, warm as in… not freezing. Enough above zero that you could stand outside comfortably with a thick enough sweater kinda warm. When-even-are-seasons-anymore-climate-change-is gonna-kill-us-all kinda warm.

“I don’t get it.” Cecil mumbled as they exited the car, making a valiant effort to tone down his annoyance. “Why have you brought us here?” There truly was nothing here, other than miles and miles of rolling hills, some train tracks a few yards away, and a forest somewhere East.

Dave didn’t respond- he just smiled up at him, a hand holding the strap of the backpack he’d brought along. A giddy smile that made Cecil’s stomach flutter a little. Then he silently pointed upward, looking at him expectantly.

Cecil frowned, nonplussed, reflexively following the other’s movement; what was he-

What… was…

He was looking up. Up, up into the endless sky. And he kept on looking, jaw growing slack, arms falling to his sides.

Because there was just so many stars so many stars more than he’d ever seen in his entire life, it was like he was ten all over again looking up through the window and babbling about rocket ships and aliens and how he was going to see it all one day-

“You okay in there, hot stuff?”

Cecil snapped out of his stupor, looking down to see David smirking smugly at him- he was holding a thermos in each of his hands, and there was a blanket laid on the grass, big enough for the two of them. So that’s what he’d packed in his bag. “How-” he cleared his throat, “How did you…”

Dave only winked, tapping a finger against his temple. “...Oh.” the doctor realized. Right. They’d all been in each other’s heads.

“It’s mostly faded by now,” Dave shrugged, setting the warm containers on a corner of the blanket, “Those are your memories, and nobody should snoop through them… but that one stuck with me. And I- I really wanted to surprise you, y’know?”

Cecil nodded, not the slightest trace of anger or annoyance on his features. He just looked up again, silent, pale moonlight lighting up his milky white skin.

Then he looked back at him and Dave was pretty sure he was going to die on the spot.

Cecil was smiling. Not the cocky, arrogant smirk he sometimes wore. Nor the small, timid one he managed to draw out of him once in a blue moon.

An actual, genuinely happy smile that went up to his grey, dark-rimmed eyes, crinkled up and sparkling with joy. Oh, fuck me, he thought.

Could one fall for the same person twice?

“Thank you,” Cecil breathed out, his voice uncharacteristically unsteady. “I… You… I’m sorry. For- for getting annoyed, I know I shouldn’t, you don’t- you deserve better.”

Ah, shit. This tall motherfucker was actually going to make him cry at this rate. “Shit man,” Dave choked, stepping closer to Cecil. “Just- c’m’here.”

He wrapped his arms around the taller man’s middle and pulled him close, tilting his head up to welcome the German’s lips on his own, the older man’s slender hands settling on both sides of his face. The kiss was slow, tender, yet filled with latent intensity and passion. They somehow ended up on the blanket, sitting ever-so close and filling the chilly air with wanton sighs and hums, carried away by the cold breeze.

They eventually pulled back, catching their breath- they were both flushed, eyes slightly glazed over, as they looked at each other with gentle devotion. “I must say…” the doctor murmured, still a bit lightheaded, “This is… quite the break.”

Dave chuckled fondly, before pecking playfully at his lover’s forehead. “Told you you needed it. You’re running yourself ragged Ceec, no wonder you’re on edge.”

“Still, I shouldn’t keep taking out my frustration on you. It’s not right.”

Dave hummed. “Yeah, I know. But you’ve gotten better at it, really. Just gotta keep going forward, yeah?” He tucked a strand of greying hair behind Cecil’s left ear. “ ‘sides, you know I won’t just stand there and take it if you really start to be an ass.”

Cecil snorted. “So I’ve seen. You’d probably snap me in two.”

“Damn right I could! Look at that scrawny ass, I could kick it into the sun.”

“Mmh, I don’t think so. You like it too much, as you keep telling me.”

“Aw shit, he figured it out,” Dave fake-whispered, before they both broke out into laughter. “Oh, also,” he gasped when the hilarity subsided, “this isn’t just a break. S’also a celebration!”

“A celebration?”

Dave smiled, holding out a thermos to the older man. He looked proud of himself. “Happy one month clean, handsome.”

It took him a few seconds to understand, but when he did, he reflexively rubbed at his arm, feeling his face warm up significantly as he accepted the offering, taking a sip. Mmh, black coffee, no cream and no sugar. Just how he liked it. “Ah… yes, thank you.”

“And I’m almost three months sober!” the father cheered, wrapping an arm around his partner’s neck to pull him closer. “Man, look at us. We’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

Cecil chuckled, a little smile gracing his lips as he looked up at the inky skies above. “I… guess we are.”

They laid down next to each other, their shoulders bumping together as they huddled under the extra blanket Dave had brought along. Alone, together on that grassy hill more than an hour away from the city, they tried to find as many constellations as they could while Cecil offered trivia and anecdotes on each of them, like the Earth’s sky map had been burned into his brain at a young age.

But then again, with the doctor’s photographic memory, it might’ve just been.

Ursa Major. Altair. Alpha Centauri. Supernovas. Nebulae. His eyes shone with almost feverish enthusiasm as he talked, making him look so much younger, so alive, as Dave listened with rapt attention.

Then, as the older man was going over the specifics of the supermassive black whole at the center of the Milky Way, Dave rolled them over, coming to a stop to stand on all fours above Cecil, smiling lovingly.

The German stopped rambling and blinked up at him- with his hair uncovered and framing his face in auburn curls, his deep blue eyes crinkled up in amusement, and the myriad of stars surrounding him, David looked like he belonged in a Van Gogh painting. Beautiful. Almost ethereal, yet so real, so… tangible. Oh how he wanted to frame the moment so he could keep it forever.

He gulped. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Before he could stop himself, his finger mindlessly started to trace invisible lines between Dave’s freckles, drawing a surprised giggle from the man.

His very own milky way. Full of constellations for him alone to name. All within his reach.

“Shouldn’t you look up? The stars are up there.” he mumbled, thoughts not quite straight. Dave laughed, clear and deep. “Don’t need to. I can see them in your eyes. That’s more than enough for me.”

Silence. Cecil huffed. “That was the corniest thing you’ve said yet.”

“C’mon, you know you like it. You’re blushing.”

“Shut up and kiss me again, you dumm.”

Dave happily complied.

***

It would be dawn soon. As they stared at the endless space above them- mostly void, partially stars- sipping hot tea and coffee from their respective thermoses, huddled together under a thick woolen blanket to shield themselves from the chilliness of that winter night… they felt like they’d brushed with eternity.

“Hey.” Dave whispered, breaking the comfortable silence.

A quiet hum of acknowledgement.

“Do you.. regret not going? Up there.”

“Mmh. F’course, a little still. T’was my dream.” the German mumbled, words slurring together. Right. Of course he did, dumb question. “But…”

The father blinked. “But…?”

“Wouldn’t have met… Mars. ‘liver.” A pause, an intake of breath. “Met you.”

Dave bit his lip, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. He wiped at the wetness at the corner of his eyes, smiling so hard it almost hurt. “Y-Yeah. I guess so.” He squeezed his lover’s hand underneath the blanket. “Ceec…?”

A quiet, soft snore was his only reply. Dave chuckled quietly and turned his head- Cecil was out like a light, lips slightly parted, his usually sharp features smoothed over and relaxed.

The smaller man gently reached out to cup the other’s sleeping face, his thumb slowly stroking over his cheekbone- just watching. This wasn’t a sight he was graced with often; they might have been sharing a bed for a few weeks now, but the doctor always went to sleep later than he did, and always got up before him, by the pale light of dawn… that is, when he even bothered to sleep at all.

That was the main reason why he’d dragged his partner out on this little trip- Cecil had been working himself to the bone again, going over piles and piles of old books in search for an explanation, for any information on Mars’ abilities and his newfound… condition. To no avail so far, which was driving the older man even more frantic. Between this, trying to cater to everyone’s physical and mental wellness, and the logistical nightmare that was the latest addition to their little group- an honest-to-god time-traveler… well, he looked like the slightest breeze would knock him over.

In short, he’d been in need of a break. Badly. Preferably the kind that would knock some sense into that big brain of his. Since they both had gotten together, Dave had been trying to get Cecil to take better care of himself, to stop skipping meals, to finally sleep a decent amount each night… hell, he’d started to see some actual progress before Mars was kidnapped and everything had gone to shit.

He couldn’t let his efforts go to waste, especially not now. Not in such a delicate time, when they were all still recovering. And now, looking at Cecil, sleeping deeply and peacefully for the first time since the kid had disappeared almost a month ago… Dave was glad he hadn’t given up.

And that he’d filled that thermos with decaf, but Ceec didn’t need to know that.

Dave sighed contentedly as he snuggled closer to the other, burying his face in his chest and drawing the blanket higher over them both, letting himself be lulled into a comfortable drowsiness. Their backs would probably be sore from sleeping on the hard ground... but that was a problem for future them.

#arc 6: aftermath #moirai #cecil #dave #davil #new chapter #i love that one a lot #i wanted to write something really cute and not angsty for once #they're my babies hqshfksf

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lilithsgayadoptednephew · 4 years

Text

Holy Hands

Fandoms: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Not Rated Graphic Depictions Of Violence F/M, Other Complete Work

Chapter List

Chapter 36

3 months

3 months MC had been gone. Off who knows where doing who knows what. They had been gone without a word, they were probably trapped somewhere. Or worse.

The brothers struggled, but eventually they accepted it. Though they couldn't deny there was a human sized void in their lives that Acacia shouldn't be trying to fill. No matter how much she thought she needed to.

Lucifer never gave up his trust that MC had left with the intention to return. He was, however, starting to believe they may have failed. Now they were unable to come back to him for one reason or another. It made his stomach turn that he'd let them go in the first place.

He should've held them tighter, kept them closer. Under his watchful gaze they'd never be in harm's way, nothing was so bold as to challenge Lucifer nor those under his protection.

Now when he slept he did it alone, colder than stone and twice as harsh were his nights. When he ate he could hardly taste, what was the point if MC wasn't there to cook for him? to scornfully remind him he needed sustenance in the first place.

Technically as a demon he didn't need it as much, but he never forsake a meal, or a nights rest. Even though they were gone he could still hear them telling him he was going to waste away if he didn't take care of himself.

He believed them.

Now he stood on a sheer ocean cliff on Earth. In one hand he held the horn Abaddon had given Simon, in the other he held Acacia's hand.

Since MCs disappearance, Acacia had insisted she be present for any and all planning against Michael. She gripped his gloved hand awkwardly, but she wouldn't be the one to let go. She knew how Lucifer could be devious, and she wasn't going to let him discretely leave her behind.

Lucifer would never do such a thing to someone MC cherished so deeply, but if it made the silly girl feel better than so be it.

After three months of planning and hiding and outright stalling for MCs return, he could no longer ignore that they were in need of help. An unhinged demon with a hoard of terrors at his beck and call would be a big help.

Swallowing his disgust he raised the larger end of the horn to his lips and called for Abaddon.

The horn made a sound like a thousand cicada's chattering in a field. The sound grew so loud with the hissing Acacia had to cover her ears.

The silence that crested after the cacophony was almost as deafening.

They stood on the hill for a few beats. Waiting, listening. It was only when their guards dropped for a moment that a voice from behind them made them jump.

"Tidings"

The two turned suddenly. It was impossible to startle Lucifer, but this man came dangerously close. Yellow eyes seemed to be crusted open, unblinking. His rectangular pupils drawing from one figure to another and back again. He licked his lips absently with a scaly black tongue.

"Two birds on a wire." He said softly. "Why have you flown here? Why have you called me?" He approached them in long rhythmic strides as he spoke. Lucifer cleared his throat.

"The angels stole your hoard for their means, perhaps we can interest you in...revenge?" Lucifer's eyes narrowed at the reclusive demon. The latter just chuckled, it sounded more like clicking.

"Oh Helel...I am not a vengeful creature. If you have want of my assistance you must offer me something more…" He pressed two fingers hard into his temple. His wrist twisting unnaturally away from his skull. "... substantial." Lucifer cringed, he had nothing to his name. "Need a suggestion?" The creep dropped his hand back to his side and tilted one big yellow eye right into Lucifer's face.

"You have a request?" Lucifer kept his cool, though the stench was near unbearable.

"Well I'm sure I could think of something...I waaaaaaaaant…" he spun in a slow circle as he drew out the word. "Hmm….how about that little pet always trotting after you?" He asked innocently. Lucifer wasn't surprised, everyone seemed captivated by MC and this wasn't the first time someone has demanded them. His brothers, Diavolo, Micheal, it was honestly a miracle they weren't kidnapped daily.

He couldn't blame them, he did the same thing did he not?

"That's out of the question." He said calmly. "Think of something else."

"Ah but now I've got my heart set on it Luci!" The proud demon cringed at the way Abaddon used the nickname. "Please?" He grinned an uncannily wide and brown-toothed smile. Acacia looked from Lucifer to Abaddon, surely he wouldn't actually consider the offer.

Lucifer was thinking of something else...had Abaddon ever met MC? Usually people would know them before they wanted them...what did Abaddon want with his human?

"Why?"

"Hm?" Abaddon looked back to him, as if he'd gotten completely distracted in the short time Lucifer was quiet.

"Why do you want MC?" He clarified. He'd never give them up, but his curiosity demanded an answer.

"Oh for the prestige of course!" He yelled. "To have a human pet of my own would make many a demon jealous, especially if it was Lucifer's special human."

Lucifer's stomach turned. Everything about his words was sickening. The way he spoke, the condescending way he said his special human. The intentions he had, and the way he referred to them as it. He shook his head slowly.

"You are a truly depraved bastard and you'll never have contact with them" he almost laughed as he said it. Abaddon just waved one hand at him and hid his oblong face.

"Oh you…" he cooed and Lucifer rolled his eyes.

"Hey!" Acacia spoke up for once.

"Well Luci if you don't pay up you won't get my hel–"

"What is it Acacia?" Acacia looked at Lucifer and released his hand, turning to Abaddon.

"What about me?" Her voice only barely shook. Abaddon didn't know why Lucifer was letting the human chime in, but he decided to humor it.

"And...who are you?" He leaned in close, towering over the girl. His long, greasy locks falling down around his face and hers. Acacia gulped and resisted the urge to back up.

"Acacia what a–" Lucifer was interrupted.

"I am Acacia, MCs sister. I am willing to go with you if a human's what you want so badly." Lucifer's choked on his words at the humans brazenness.

"Ohooooooo!!!" Abaddon crowed and jumped up and down. Clapping his hands excitedly. "A human of my own! Hi he ho!"

"Not quite." She cut him off. Lucifer was shocked by the bargain being made without his input. He should stop Acacia from negotiating with the crafty man. He had to keep her safe for MC while they were gone.

But they needed Abaddon's help, and if MC had taught him anything it was to respect a humans autonomy. Acacia could make her own decisions.

He took a step back and watched the bargain unfold.

"What are you chattering about? No take backs!"

"Nah I'm not taking back anything" she raised her hands in a placating gesture. "But my service isn't unconditional." Abaddon huffed loudly.

"Lucifer y–"

"Ah ah" he stopped the greasy demon. "If you're to be negotiating the life of a human it is only fair you do it with said human."

"What does that mean?"

"It means eyes on the prize bucko" Acacia drew his attention back to her. "You wanna make a purchase you gotta talk to the owner, not the Uber driver who dropped her off." Lucifer decided not to comment on that... unorthodox comparison. Abaddon was amused, but participated.

"Very well, what are your terms, chickadee?" Acacia held up one finger.

"You and your hoard help get back the Devildom." She held up another. "Our contract is nullified in the event of any betrayal or tomfoolery." He rolled his eyes. She held up a third "and it is nullified in the event you no longer want me" she smirked. Abaddon grinned from ear to ear. Literally from ear to ear, his ears almost fell off.

"Is that all?"

"That's it." She confirmed.

Lucifer starred between the two parties. This sounded like a horrible deal. But the confident look not often seen on Acacia's face made him believe she knew what she was doing. He held his tongue.

Abaddon didn't seem to be suspicious, why would he be of a dumb human? He grabbed Acacia's hand and pulled her towards him, turning to Lucifer again.

"Alright, you have my support."

#obey me!#obey me fanfic #Holy Hands

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jerkbitchidjitassbutt · 5 years

Text

No One’s Gonna Love You (2)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

A/n: I found a “starters” post on pinterest… and here is the resulting mini series. Key line: “I need to stop kissing strangers and pretending they’re you.” Mostly angst, but fluff also. *Google Image not mine (edited). Warnings: cursing, angst, a guy that’s kinda creepy.

After a shower and a change of clothes, you were leaning against the back of the Impala as the brothers pushed themselves through the garage door. Dean had a little hop in his step, seemingly excited for his night out of the bunker, while Sam schlepped behind him typing on his phone.

After a fifteen-minute car ride of Sam and his brotherly bickering of Dean’s choice of music and you were at another Roadhouse-esq hole in the wall with the smell of stale beer etched into the fabric of the booths.

“Seriously, dude?” Dean muttered around a mouthful of cheeseburger. “Who orders a salad at a dive bar?” he berated Sam as he stabbed at his chicken caesar salad with the dressing on the side.

“I mean, usually I’m on your side here, man… but I gotta side with Dean on this one. Can’t you even just order fries like a normal person?” you said, waving one of your French fries in his face. “They even have those disgusting sweet potato fries you like so much.”

Sam chuckled and gave some halfhearted attempt at arguing why his choice was better than yours or Dean’s ‘pile of grease’. You responded by taking a piece of the bacon from your burger and plunging it into your mouth unceremoniously.

After the plates were cleared, Dean set off to the bar and ordered his first whiskey of the evening. You and Sam were chatting about a Game of Thrones fan theory you read online and sipping on your respective beers when your eyes drifted to a bottle blonde in a skin tight, barely-below-the-butt-cheek skirt. Of course, you’d never shame or judge a woman for her choice of clothing, often sticking up for them if someone ever got too handy, but even you couldn’t help the wide-eyed stare when she bent over the bar to shout at the bartender.

No sooner did your eyebrows raise were Dean’s shooting to his hairline, swiftly gliding down the bar to chat her up. The shocked expression on your face was quickly replaced with hurt, which you quickly tried to chase away with a clearing of your throat and a swig of your beer. When you set it down back on the wooden table, Sam’s eyes were fixed on you from the opposite booth and a small, sympathetic smile was placed on his lips.

“Shut up, Sam.” You deadpanned.

“Y/n—“

“Sam… please?” You begged.

He nodded his head in understanding, “Okay. I will. But if you ever want to talk, I’m here.” He gripped your hand quickly with a couple of pats as Dean’s hand traveled to the hem of Blondie’s skirt and his fingertip traced patterns along her smooth upper thigh. After that, they were quick to retreat out the swinging doors into the parking lot.

It was always the same. Dean left with a girl who looked nothing like you; always between 4-7 inches taller and a good fifteen pounds lighter at least. You chugged the remainder of your beer and swung your legs out of the booth in search of something stronger. A shot of tequila was downed quicker than one would think humanly possible from the time it hit the wood in front of you. An irritated roll of your neck and a stretch of your spine caused your t-shirt to ride up revealing the small of your back. You heard a low whistle from behind you and prepared yourself for the ambush of ‘hey baby’-ies and ‘what’s your sign’-s. Sure, you could go home with another guy; it wouldn’t be the first time, but the act was getting old. You began to hate the feeling of cheap hook-ups in different towns dotted across the country, knowing deep down that they were only there to fill a void—sadly, no pun intended.

A tall man with slight stubble and too much aftershave that did little to cover up the cigarette smell sat on the stool beside you. Accosted with the overly peppery scent, it took all of your will-power to quell the small gag that crept up your throat.

“Where do you come from, darlin’?” the John Doe next to you slurred.

Another shot appeared in front of you. You tossed it back before answering unimpressively, “Mars. I’m an alien.”

He chuckled low in his throat, sending chills up your spine. There was just something about the guy that made your insides do summersaults, it wasn’t from the tequila and it sure as hell wasn’t good. Every instinct told you to sock the guy where he stood, but that would cause too much attention.

“Well, tell me something about yourself, sweetheart.”

Wow. This guy was thick. If it wasn’t visible by the obvious disgust on your face, the slow and methodological move away from him was practically blaring ‘fuck off’ in his general direction.

“Well, don’t be so secretive kitten. I just wanna get to know ya.” He purred.

“You want to know something about me, huh? Okay.” You turned towards him; the confidence and irritation that came with your slight buzz flowed through your veins. If he didn’t lay off soon, you’d be out for blood. “How about this hot-shot… I can kill a man with my belt buckle.”

He began to laugh, until he looked at your raised eyebrow and challenging expression, muttering something about you being a crazy bitch.

“Excuse me, who the fu—“you began, only to be interrupted by a loud scuffle.

A rough slap on the creep’s shoulder had him being hauled up by the collar of his jacket, Dean’s fist being on the offensive and dragging him off of his stool.

“What did you just call her?” Dean growled, Sam right behind him.

“Who the hell are you?!” he shouted.

“Doesn’t matter. Now apologize.”

Drunk guy muttered something barely recognizable, but that wasn’t satisfying to you or Dean.

“I couldn’t hear you.” You barked, inching closer to his face.

He paused, looking up to meet your eyes, “… Sorry.”

You nodded to Dean, who yanked whats-his-face by the collar to whisper in his here, “By the way… she wasn’t lying. She really can kill a guy with her belt buckle. Quickly, too. Now get out of here.”

Intoxicated dude-bro stumbled out of the bar and into the night air as you pounded one last shot before turning to Dean, “Thanks. I had it, though.”

“Oh, I know you did, sweetheart. I never thought you didn’t.”

“What about you? What happened to… uh, whoever-she-was?” you asked, averting your eyes to stare at your now empty shot glass.

“Eh… not my type tonight.” He replied nonchalantly, shoving his hands deep in his jean pockets. “Are you ready to head home?”

The steady flow of tequila flowing through you began to swirl your thoughts heavily. What started as a drink to ease your frustrations had quickly turned into too much. You stumbled slightly before looking to Dean for help, “Yeah… yeah, I am.”

Both of the Winchesters were quick to support you as you trekked to the car, leaning into their sides as Dean tossed Sam the keys.

The cool breeze made you feel clammy and a bit sick. Dean slid into the back seat with you as you quickly scurried in. Maybe three shots after beer wasn’t the best idea. “Beer before liquor, never sicker” you heard your old Aunt’s words ringing in your ears as the boys drove you home.

Dean helped you into the bunker bathroom while Sam went to fetch you a glass of water. Being home in your ‘bubble’ of comfort made you feel better, the fog of the alcohol lifting slightly.

“Ugh.” You said as Dean placed a cold washcloth on the back of your neck. “Too much, too soon.”

“I’ve always said that about you, Y/n.” he chuckled heartily, “You’re always diving in head first.”

“Pfft. Yeah, and look where it got me.” You mumbled, taking the glass of ice water from Sam who quickly retreated back out the door.

You groaned audibly when the coldness hit the back of your throat, only noting then that Dean was staring at you.

“What did you say?” he asked.

You peered up at him from your seated position against the bathroom cabinet. You were sure when you slid down there, but… here you were.

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

He crouched down in front of you, swinging his long legs next to yours so he was seated across from you, his weight rested on the palms of his hands. “You can lie all you want, Y/n. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Feeling dizzy, you closed your eyes and leaned your head back exhaustedly. You were sobering up a little, but not nearly fast enough, and at this point, you were mentally and physically drained of the stress of Dean Winchester. You’d been drunk in his presence a million times, but you were now at the point where you couldn’t control it anymore. Your intoxicated mind told you to just let him have it—all of the thoughts you’d been lying about and all of your deepest, darkest secrets.

“Wuddya’ want me to say, Dean? You’re right. I dive right in. Don’t even test the waters; just cannonball right into the deep end. In life, in love—doesn’t matter. I always do it. I do it with hunting, ya know I do. Go in, guns blazing, am I right?”

Dean sat motionless, sensing that you were heading somewhere with this and knowing better than to interrupt you.

You laughed as your head rolled slightly, moving of its own accord and weight. “Did you know the human head weighs eight pounds?” you asked randomly, causing him to don a perplexed look. “It does. And guess what? You’re head is pretty.” You pointed an unsteady finger at his face. “That’s another thing that I’ve just jumped right off the ledge into. Did you know that, Dean-o? I’ve been in love with you forever.” You sort of whisper growled the last note, jerking your body with emphasis but still not opening your eyes. “But it's a lost cause, huh? I know you don’t love me. And what would I expect? I’m not the type of girl you go after… like ever. I’m just me… and no one’s ever gonna love me.”

When you finally opened your eyes to see him scooting closer to you on the floor, his eyes widened and mouth agape, ready to protest. You held up a hand to halt him, shaking your head furiously and much too quickly, “Don’t, Dean. Don’t make up some story about how great I am or any other bullshit, okay? I know I’m not your type, and that’s fine. I don’t wanna be that, not that there’s really anything wrong with it... I like who I am, honestly, but there’s a few things I need to admit to myself.” You paused, looking down to examine your hands and avoid his waiting stare.

Tears threatened to spill as you finally met his gaze and spoke, “I need to stop kissing strangers and pretending they’re you…”

< My Masterlist / Part 1 / Part 3 >

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beepbeeprichiellc · 5 years

Note

Please do a part 2 to the “I thought you loved me” I’m such a slut for angst and your writing is so good and wow it was incredible

You asked for it bruh.... Part 1

Eddie looked between the two snacks, chewing on his bottom lip while contemplating his choices. He had one job and was afraid he was going to make the wrong decision thus ruining the entire night. It was as stupid thought but it drilled itself so deep into his psyche that he was sure that if he bought M&M’s instead of Red Vines and it wasn’t the right choice then they would be literally thrown into his face as result.

That was his anxiety speaking.

It was something Eddie had always carried with him and at one point he actually had it under control but sometime in the past year the medication seemed to lose its effect thus allowing the anxious thoughts to creep back. It had been a rough life leading up to this moment, one full of self doubt and depleting thoughts but finally there was something to fill the void in his chest and the future seemed a bit brighter.

Shrugging he decided to just buy both, figuring if either was wrong then he had the backup to give away. His phone buzzed in his pocket and Eddie didn’t need to look to know that it was Mike asking if he was on his way or not. Turning heel he sought out the cash register but was stopped by a scruffy figure standing right behind him. The sudden realization made Eddie jump, his heart leaping into his throat.

“Hey Eds.” Richie said, awkwardly waving at him.

“Holy fuck Richie, you scared the shit out of me.” He breathed, bringing the Red Vines to his chest to shush his pounding heart. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to watch you debate between those two snacks.”

It was supposed to be a joke but Eddie didn’t feel like indulging the poor excuse for laughter. Instead he looked at his ex-really looked at him for the first time in over a year. Eddie had heard through the grapevine that the girl that had gotten between the two of them had left him some time after they had started dating and now was engaged to be married. There had been an expectation for Richie to seek out Eddie after that but that had never happened and instead Eddie had endured thirteen months of learning to love himself rather than anyone else. It had nearly killed him.

Apart of him was thankful for the radio silence. If Richie had come then he would have taken him back without so much as a second thought and allowed all of his actions to be forgiven. Eddie had grown without his boyfriend and now was standing at the forefront of a new life, that would have never been possible with Richie and for that he owed this man more than he could ever give.

“H-how have you been Eds?”

“Fantastic, is that what you want me to say?” Richie flinched at his harshness but Eddie wanted to cut all of the formalities and get to the point, he was already late as is. “Or terrible, which one are you fishing for?”

“Come on, don’t be like that” Richie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m just trying to-”

“I know.” Eddie mumbled, feeling a little guilty for his sudden reaction. “Sorry Richie, I just-I guess I wasn’t expecting to see you. It’s been so long that I figured you just moved away,”

“I did.” He said, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “After being dumped I went back home for a bit, spent time with my parents and trying to get my shit together.” There was a pause like he was waiting for Eddie’s approval but when it never came he finished with, “I just got back a few weeks ago.”

“Well welcome back I guess.” Eddie shrugged, “Look I’m running behind, it was nice to see you but I’ve gotta get going.”

“I want to talk.” Richie blurted then, the mess of words sounding like a string of vulnerability. “I know that things didn’t end on good terms but fuck Eds, I miss you. I miss you so much and I never stopped thinking about-even when I was with her. I fucked up and if you just give me a chance, I know that I could-”

“I’m seeing someone.” Eddie found himself saying, stopping Richie’s speech. He wondered if Richie had practiced it, if he had stayed up late to rehearse over and over until it was perfect. Secretly Eddie hoped so. He hoped that the truth hurt Richie just as much it did for him that fateful night.

Richie blinked, stunned. “Wh-Is it serious?”

“I don’t know.” Eddie answered honestly, “It’s only been a month but I owe it to him to tell you.”

“Oh.”

It felt like Eddie should apologize, but there was nothing to apologize for. Instead he nodded his head and confidently spoke, “Yeah, he’s a great guy actually. His name is-”

“I don’t want to know.” Richie put up his hands as if to shield himself from the truth. “Sorry but I think it’s just easier not knowing.”

“I understand.” And he did.

Richie licked his lips, and Eddie could practically see the wheels in his head turning. “Does he make you happy?”

“He makes me feel safe.” Eddie answered, “And that’s what I need.”

“Right.” Richie let out a hollow laugh, the shape of it sad and disfigured. “Well I hope this guys knows how lucky he is.”

“I’m the lucky one.”

Richie smiled, this time it was honest and true atop of his face. “Goodbye Eds.”

“Goodbye Richie.”

----

“Finally!” Mike mused as Eddie walked through the apartment door. “I thought you got lost at the store! I was about to call for a search party!”

“Sorry.” Eddie mumbled, handing over the bag with candy and forcing a smile. “I wasn’t really sure what you wanted so I got Red Vines and M&M’s.”

“You know I would have eaten whatever you got.” Mike replied, soothing over the anxiety that Eddie had over the entire ordeal. “But I appreciate the extra effort.” Gently he leaned in and placed a kiss onto Eddie’s cheek, it was sweet and slow just like Mike himself. This should have made Eddie melt but instead he flinched. Miked noticed this because of fucking course he does and allowed the space to resume between them. “Somethings wrong.”

It wasn’t a question.

Eddie knew he couldn’t lie Mike, doing that this early in a relationship would surely be the arrow that killed them. So he answered truthfully, “I ran into Richie at the store.”

“You’re ex?”

“Yeah.”

Mike sat on the back of the couch, his aura open and kind just like it always was. “What did he want?”

“He wanted to talk.” Eddie said, peeling off of his jacket and tossing it onto the kitchen counter. He didn’t dare to look at Mike, fearful of his reaction. “Gave me the speech.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Mike mumbled, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “He was stupid to let you go in the first place.”

Eddie sighed, “Mike-”

“Did you tell him about us?” He interjected, moving back to his feet. There was no anger and judgment in his question but rather an actual curiosity.

“I did.”

“Really?”

Eddie was taken aback by his surprised tone, like whatever they have been doing for the past month meant so little to Eddie that he wouldn’t mention it to Richie. It was a turn, and Eddie could feel Mike’s vulnerability from across the room. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

Mike shrugged, “We haven't been together that long, I didn’t know if you would have actually told him.”

“Well I did.”

“Do you still love him?” Mike asked, shoving his hands into his front pocket and rocking his weight from heel to ball.

Eddie knew that Mike was the textbook definition of a good guy, if Eddie showed any discomfort or hesitation he backed off, if Eddie would have came here tonight and told Mike he was going to go back to Richie then Mike would have wished them the best of luck and actually have meant it. He was too good for this world, too good for Eddie himself. “Maybe, somewhere deep down I think I always will.”

Mikes face dropped, “I see.”

“But that doesn’t matter, Richie chose his path and I’m choosing mine.” Eddie walked over to his boyfriend and kissed him sweetly, burning the taste to memory. As he pulled away he looked up to Mike and added, “Now come on, let’s start the movie.”

Mike snaked his arms around his waist, “Okay. if that’s what you really want.”

“It is.”

And it was.

#it it au #reddie #prompt #requested #kasplon #because sometimes you don't get what you want #and I want reddie #so fuck me I guess

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jcssaminemayfairc · 4 years

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REALLIFEHQ TASK ONE: PLAYLISTS

i had WAY too much fun making this ( even though it was completely time consuming ... ) ! below, you will find the lyrics from each song that stand out to jessa, thus reflecting why she put them on her playlist !

all the good girls go to hell - billie eilish

all the good girls go to hell, 'cause even god herself has enemies; and once the water starts to rise and heaven's out of sight; she'll want the devil on her team.

change your mind - tori kelly

no one ever said it was easy, and i love him her, you gotta believe me. no, it don't seem right, but I'll change your mind, mind. trust in me, i'ma need your blessing. oh, i love him her, i'm confessing. if it takes my life, i'ma change your mind.

confident - teagan garcia

i used to hold my freak back, now i'm letting go. i make my own choice, bitch, I run this show. so leave the lights on; no, you can't make me behave.

cool - jonas brothers

i'm feeling so cool, top to the bottom, just cool. every little thing that i do; dammit, i'm feelin' so cool, yeah.

dance, dance - fall out boy

she says she's no good with words, but i'm worse. barely stuttered out a joke of a romantic stuck to my tongue. weighed down with words too overdramatic.

girl - maren morris

girl, won't you stop your cryin'? i know that you're tryin'. everything's gonna be okay. baby girl, don't you hang your head low; don't you lose your halo. everyone's gonna be okay.

here’s to never growing up - avril lavigne

singing radiohead at the top of our lungs, with the boom box blaring as we're falling in love. i got a bottle of whatever, but it's getting us drunk. singing, here's to never growing up. we'll be running down the street, yelling " kiss my ass! ". i'm like yeah whatever, we're still living like that. when the sun's going down, we'll be raising our cups, singing, here's to never growing up.

i hope - gabby barrett

i hope she comes along and wrecks every one of your plans. i hope you spend your last dime to put a rock on her hand. i hope she's wilder than your wildest dreams; she's everything you're ever gonna need, and then i hope she cheats like you did on me.

issues - julia michaels

'cause I got issues, but you got 'em too. so give 'em all to me and I'll give mine to you. bask in the glory of all our problems, 'cause we got the kind of love it takes to solve 'em. yeah, i got issues and one of them is how bad I need you.

life of the party - all time low

somewhere in between who I used to be and who I'll be tomorrow when the champagne blows my mind. thrills don't come for free, the price you pay for dreams. in a sea of strangers, I can't find me anymore, anymore; i can't find me anymore.

mercy - shawn mendes

you've got a hold of me; don't even know your power. i stand a hundred feet, but i fall when i'm around you.

nice to meet ya - niall horan

i like the way you talk, i like the things you wear. i want your number tattooed on my arm in ink, i swear; 'cause when the morning comes, i know you won't be there. every time i turn around, you disappear.

nobody’s home - gnash

i know that i've got a couple of voids i could fill. i promise you, one day i will, but if i can avoid them now, lord knows, i will.

speechless - dan & shay

you already know that you're my weakness. after all this time i'm just as nervous. every time you walk into the room, i'm speechless

talk - against the current

so why don't we just call it what it is? 'cause everybody knows you're full of shit. you say you really wanna change, but all you do is talk, talk, talk then walk the same way. i say what you don't wanna say: i think we better stop, stop, stop before it's too late.

the man - taylor swift

what's it like to brag about raking in dollars and getting bitches and models? and it's all good if you're bad, and it's okay if you're mad. if I was out flashin' my dollas i'd be a bitch, not a baller. they'd paint me out to be bad, so it's okay that I'm mad.

too good at goodbyes - sam smith

i know you're thinking i'm heartless. i know you're thinking i'm cold. i'm just protecting my innocence. i'm just protecting my soul.

trust - jonas brothers

i know that i'm better off without you, but i know that i could never live without you, 'out you. thinkin' 'bout my lips upon your mouth, yeah. got me weak in the knees, my god, can't breathe.

voices - against the current

when will the voices stop making trouble inside? if i look in the mirror will i see through their eyes? when will the voices in my head just stop and let me rest? i can't take it (take it); here come the voices again.

wanna be missed - hayley kiyoko

i wanna be missed like every night. i wanna be kissed like it's the last time. say you can't eat, can't sleep, can't breathe without me. i wanna be held, fragile like glass; 'cause I've never felt nothing like that.say you can't walk, can't talk, go on without me.

you should see me in a crown - billie eilish

if you think I'm pretty, you should see me in a crown. i'm gonna run this nothing town. watch me make 'em bow; one by one by, one.

#reallife.task #( playlist. )

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missfeisty199 · 5 years

Text

“What About Our Tea?”

(Friendlypack Fic)

Summary: They were going to be enjoying a nice cup of hot tea to warm from the overbearing wintertime outside, but things get thrown in a whole other direction when Stan walks in on Jimmy changing.

Content warnings: major angst with a very happy ending, mention of prostitution/sex work, mention of abuse, mention of self-loathing, loss of one’s virginity, explicit sex between male and male (with consent of course).

Rating: Explicit/NSFW

Author’s Note: WOW, this was WAY longer than I had initially planned! This idea was only inspired by this scene from “Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World”, but the thought of what it would be like for Stan to (finally!) lose his virginity to Jimmy got a hold of me, so here we are. Hope you still love this fic!

It has been unusually frigid in the bustling city of Los Santos lately. Even in the wintertime on other occasions, the city still maintains a sort of warm climate with soft winds and clear skies. Fall, Winter, Spring, or even come Summer, the Los Santos sun still shines on as it stares down the city with raging heat.

This time, however, wintertime is actually what wintertime entails. Freezing winds, light fall of snowflakes, thick attire, snow as white as a pure lamb covering every inch of ground, and plenty of hot drinks to go around. It was currently this that Stan Wheeler and Jimmy Bending were discussing as they walked along an empty central park at night.

“Surely you wouldn’t just have straight hot water with nothing in it,” Jimmy muttered to Stan as he lit a cigarette to get some sort of warmth through him. “I’m not even sure that’s healthy.”

“Oh, but it sure is, Friendly J! The warmness kills off all the bad stuff inside and cleans the pores!” Stan replied with confidence.

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Pretty sure it doesn’t work that way, but whatever.”

The pair had just recently finished off what was thought of to be a normal delivery in the Sandy Shores area until it turned out to be another accomplice bait thrown by Mr. Lang Buddha and his stooges. Memories of the Polito Bank robbery came flooding into both men’s conscience, sending panicked chills down their spines. Luckily the men played both their cards right exactly the same way they did in Polito, managing to get off safely just the same way.

Mr. Buddha did manage to take Jimmy’s car keys again, along with the actual vehicle itself instead of just abandoning it this time, and with Kiki being too busy with a film shoot to pick them up, the two were left no other option but to go on foot in the snow. They had been walking for what felt like hours until they finally made it back to Vinewood, catching sight of the park in which they presently found themselves strolling through.

Reflecting on all that has happened in the day, Jimmy let out a deep sigh as he exhaled the smoke from the cigarette, seeing his own breath in the chilled air. “Well, this has been a pretty lousy excuse of a date.” He did not intend for the wording to be taken so seriously, but it apparently caused Stan to stop walking and look at Jimmy perturbed.

“S-so t-this is a d-date, eh?” the older companion stuttered.

“Oh, did I say this was a date?” Jimmy sarcastically questioned.

Even with the freezing temperature, Stan felt his face heat up in a blush. “W-well uh...um...i-it sure sounded l-like you did.”

Seeing his friend fluster gave Jimmy the leverage to tease him. “Hmm, guess it was just a slip of the tongue, Staniel.”

He flashed Stan a mocking smirk, actually getting quite amused at the fact that he was so stunned about this that his frequent bold speech had melted into a sheer blubbering stutter. Jimmy even winked at Stan, even though his dark shades would thankfully prevent him from seeing so. Not only that, but it secretly made Jimmy feel honored that even he had that effect on Stan and not just beautiful women.

“O-oh…tongue, yeah...”

Remembering where they were and what weather they were standing in reminded Jimmy of where the two were heading to. “Anyways,” he began, “we gotta get out of here before a blizzard freezes us stiff.”

Clearing his throat, Stan agreed. “You’re right, Friendly J.”

“Besides, the night ain’t over just yet, Sunflower. I think there’s a thingy over here somewhere.”

The perplexed look returned in Stan’s expression. “A thingy?”

“Ya know, a shortcut to the apartments,” Jimmy corrected as he made his way across the road and in the direction of behind some buildings, Stan obviously tailing right behind him like a loyal puppy.

They may have spent God knows how long walking straight from Sandy Shores in the heavy snow, but for whatever reason, it was as though the way to the apartment complex had the duo fly by in a dazed void. Stan was about to head over to his apartment when he felt Jimmy hold on to his hand suddenly, the touch startling him.

“I ain’t gonna leave ya to sit with just a cup of hot steaming water,” Jimmy chuckled as he pulled Stan towards his own place. Stan had no other choice but to go along with it.

They entered Jimmy’s apartment, thankful for the little warmth it brought at the very least. Jimmy stubbed out the butt of his cigarette on a small ashtray buy the window and shrugged off his thick jacket, chucking it at the sofa that rested in the corner of the living room. He gave Stan the okay to do the same for his winter coat as they made their way to the small kitchenette.

“Ya ain’t tricking me into having that devil’s juice, are ya?” Stan asked Jimmy as he took a seat at the far-too-small table in Jimmy’s kitchen.

“I wish it was that easy, Wheeler,” the younger of the two replied. “I’m not. However, since you are so damn picky about what you put into your body, I’m gonna treat you to a nice hot cup of tea. ”

Stan was taken aback. “Tea? You mean the beverage that entitles dirty leaves contaminating the drinking water?”

As if Stan’s own lead-filled bottled water was any better, Jimmy thought to himself. “Look, it shouldn’t be all that bad since ya technically have to use pure clean water to make it.” Jimmy opened his fridge to take out a Brita-filter pitcher full of cold water. “Besides, ya have to boil said water as well.”

Stan was still reluctant given his own biased preferences, but he was grateful that Jimmy was being generous to help them warm up from the weather. “O-oh alrighty then,” he mumbled.

“So, what kind of tea do ya want?” Jimmy asked the blond man once he had poured water into the kettle pot and turned on the stove.

“There’s more than one kind?”

Jimmy had opened one of the cabinets and took out a box full of mixed tea bags. “Let’s see... we have Raspberry Zinger, Country Peach Passion, Wild Berry Zinger, True Blueberry, Black Cherry Berry, Peppermint, Sleepy Time...”

He continued on listing off what seemed like a tremendous assortment of tea flavors, so much so that Stan had begun to wonder if Jimmy was pulling his leg and just making up names to spite him. When he had not said anything after a while, Jimmy took advantage of picking out a flavor himself.

“I think I’ll go with a nice cup of Sleepy Time,” he said, enjoying the fact that Stan had no say in it otherwise.

Stan knew this as well, accepting his defeat. “That sure sounds good to me.”

Jimmy had set two separate tea bags on the kitchen table, taking a seat across from Stan.

Neither of them said anything for a while, the only sounds filling in the room coming from the soft bubbling of the boiling water in the kettle. Jimmy ran a hand through the tealed locks of his hair before going to rub his face, the other hand pulling off his shades, but not entirely so that Stan could see his eyes. Stan always wondered to himself why Jimmy would never let him see what his actual eyes look like. He has only caught very quick glimpses when his seizure spasms would cause him to accidentally knock off Jimmy’s sunglasses, but the younger man would turn away in pain and frantically search for his shades.

Stan could not remember if Jimmy’s eyes were a dark hue of hazel or brown or perhaps a unique color of green. The only thing he knew was that Jimmy suffered from migraines from time to time, so it was best that he always had his shades on to block out any bright lights and such.

Stan was about to bring it up with Jimmy at last but thought against it at the last minute. He decided to go with some other topic. “So, I never figured a cool guy like ya would be into some of the tea.” Then he felt bad for even saying anything at all.

“Oh, I have some once and a while,” Jimmy said, making Stan thankful that he had not offended him. “I drink tea when my migraines just really get to me, or to relieve some stress from a day or night’s work. Like tonight.”

Stan could only vouch for that as well. “Yup yup,” he sighed.

Jimmy had finished massaging his face from all the stresses, putting his sunglasses back on.

“You should really save the damn phone number for when they call again, that way you know to just fucking ignore it. Put the contact under something obvious, something like ‘Big Dick and His Henchmen, Don’t EVER Answer’.”

“B-but they said they know what we look like,” Stan nervously answered back. “Ignoring their call would just mean bullets planted into our skulls, Friendly J.”

“Yeah, I’d like to see them fucking try it,” Jimmy scoffed. He saw the scared look in Stan’s crystal blue eyes and sighed. “I’m kidding, Stan. Besides, if they hadn’t done so this second time around, they probably ain’t got the gonads to do it a third time...if there is a third time. I know I said to watch out for drug dealers like Buddha, but I’m sure they’re just putting up a front. All bark and no bite.”

“We should have seen it coming when they told us to meet them in Sandy Shores,” Stan uttered.

“The place where there ain’t hardly any service around, not even a bank to rob,” Jimmy finished off. “A big fucking waste of our time.” He glanced to the kettle pot on the stove, waiting to soothe his nerves of frustration as patiently as he could.

“I...I’m sorry about them taking your brand new vehicle, Jimmy.”

“Why’re you sorry, Stan? It wasn’t your fault.”

Stan shifted in his seat, a look of culpability in his eyes from what Jimmy could tell. “It...it kind of is. I was foolish to answer the call and agree to the deal.” His voice was quiet, so much so that Jimmy had to apply some extra hearing than normal, but he understood Stan clearly nonetheless.

“Aww, Stan. You didn’t know.” Jimmy reached across the table and placed a hand on Stan’s in a reassuring nature. “You were just looking to make some cash, doing your job as usual.”

“S-so you’re not u-upset with me?” Stan sounded like he was seconds away from shedding tears, and it hurt Jimmy to see him be so hard on himself. Yes, Jimmy had just bought the car today. Yes, they had to walk all the way back to the city because of it. Yes, Buddha threatened their lives if Jimmy were to call the cops or AAA.

However, he was not upset with Stan.

“It’s the whole circumstance I’m upset with, but not you, Stan. Never at you.”

This gave Stan a sense of relief. No, a lot of relief actually.

He still felt shivers from the outside run through his body, especially in his arms since he had on his regular baby blue polo shirt.

Jimmy took notice and got up from the table. “Let me go fetch you a blanket.” With that, he left Stan alone in the kitchen to head into his bedroom just down the hall. It gave Stan some time to be with his thoughts.

Gosh, darn it, Stan! You know you really fudged it up this time! Jimmy may not be fuming with you, but you know it really was all your fault he lost his brand new car! You know Mr. Buddha is a very dangerous man. You’ve seen and heard things about him. You know what he’s like! You know what he can do! When will you learn, Stan?! When will you learn that your actions have consequences?! Wait...where have I heard this before? Ah, darn it all, it doesn’t matter! What matters is that you could have gotten you and Friendly Jimmy killed! All because you wanted to make a quick buck, some quick dosh! I mean yes the people of Los Santos need water, and it is your dream to sell them the sweet glorious 10% lead-filled water, but you definitely should have known better! You gotta stop being so naive! Think about what you’d do if you lost Jimmy, all because of your actions! You would be nothing without Jimmy! No Jimmy means no point of living! You’ve lost Denisse, you may have lost the respect of your sweet baby boy Roy, but you certainly haven’t lost Jimmy just yet! Wait...speaking of Jimmy, how long does it take to grab a gosh darn blanket?

Stan quieted the voices in his head to look out for any clear sign that Jimmy was still around. The only thing he heard was the shrilling whistle of the kettle pot, signifying that their tea was ready. He got up from the kitchen table and turned off the stove, easing the cry of the appliance.

He figured since he was already up he might as well check up on his dear friend. The apartments are only so small enough for what they are worth, every room only being a few steps away, so it wasn’t like Jimmy could have gone too far. He made his way through the short hallway where he saw an open door to a room that Stan could only assume was Jimmy’s bedroom.

What he saw when he entered said room stunned him into a frozen shock. Stan saw Jimmy standing half-naked in front of his closet, his boots were scattered across the floor along with his velvet-hued T-shirt. His exposed back was towards Stan, and he was about to work on pulling down his black jeans when a gasp Stan had not noticed he was holding escaped him. Jimmy had turned his body around in a haste, his face immediately blushing crimson red against his light skin once seeing Stan in the doorway. It was then that Stan took note of Jimmy’s sunglasses off, at last, seeing that his eyes were indeed a dark brown color from where he was standing.

“STAN, WHAT THE FUCK? I’M CHANGING!”, Jimmy screeched.

“I...duh...I...o-oh...uh I...eh um...I...I...S-SORRY!” The only thing Stan knew of to do in such a flustered state was to cover his face with his hands and turn his body a full 180 degrees. His feet did prevent him from walking out though as if they had been nailed down to the floor.

Gah Stan look what you’ve gone and done now! You gosh darn idiot! How could you walk in on your best friend in the whole world being almost completely naked?! How dare you?! You gosh darn frickity pervert! How could you go and do such a thing?! You could have waited! You could have waited for Jimmy in the kitchen! How could you go and invade Jimmy’s privacy - WAIT someone’s touching me!

Even with his hands still enclosing his eyes in the darkness, Stan felt his body being turned back around in such a fragile manner. Then came when another set of hands uncovered his face, and a familiar and near voice instructed him to open his eyes. When he did, there was Jimmy only an inch away from him this time, and there was a smile on his face.

“J-Jimmy…,” Stan began softly. “Your eyes…” He now had the chance to examine the other’s facial features. With Jimmy’s shades off, Stan was able to see that there were very obvious bags under Jimmy’s eyes, along with bloodshot redness in his scleras.

“Yeah, cocaine does that,” Jimmy chuckled. “In all seriousness, though, I have trouble sleeping at night. That’s why they’re so bloodshot and exhausted, and any brightness that comes in just hurts them. ”

“Oh...w-well how come?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why can’t you sleep at night?”

Jimmy nonchalantly shrugged. “Um, I suppose from the line of fucked up work I do. Work involving strangers...paying strangers... naked paying strangers. Does that ring any bells, Stan?”

“Oh! Right, right!”

Stan really did tend to forget that one of Jimmy’s so-called occupations under his belt was prostitution. Maybe because the thought of Jimmy having to forcefully sell his own body to people and let them do whatever they want with it made Stan’s stomach turn. He did not like the image of Jimmy having to do such a thing in his head, so that was probably why Stan would block it out from his memory.

“So, did you come in here just to watch me strip tease or what?” Jimmy said. Kind of half-jokingly, yet also half serious.

“Wh-n-no! I-I didn’t mean to...I...uh…”

“It’s alright, Stan,” Jimmy said, his face slowly inching closer to Stan’s. “You don’t have to answer that.”

It was then that Jimmy softly pressed his lips to Stan’s, leaving the older man speechless. He did not know what else to do, or better yet his body did not know. He just...stood there with his lips sealed shut, and Stan wasn’t sure why though. He wasn’t sure why his body had just shut down.

Yeah, it was a surprise to see Jimmy kiss him...but it wasn’t like Stan hadn’t thought about doing the same thing before…

“J-Jimmy…,” he murmured. Stan had wished he had not said anything if it meant for Jimmy to stop.

Blushing, Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I...I’m sorry, Stan. I guess my job as a sex worker has got me - ”

“No, it’s not that at all,” Stan had cut off.

Jimmy blinked. “Then what’s wrong?”

“I...well...I...I want to kiss you back...but…you recall the story of my ex-wife and I, right?”

It took Jimmy a while to figure out what Stan meant, then he remembered that his ex-wife Denisse would never allow Stan to touch her at all. Puzzle pieces came together and created the full picture.

“You’ve never even kissed anyone before,” Jimmy said.

“Exactly.”

Jimmy was a bit relieved to know he hadn’t done anything to make Stan uncomfortable, but it also made his heart ache for him.

“Besides,” Stan added, “I-I don’t know if I’d do a good job...with you...with everything that goes along with it.”

“Everything that goes along?”

Stan shifted his weight, having become so restless. He felt like a loser. He felt so small. It irritated him that he knew what he wanted, but his low-self esteem and inexperience got the better of him. If his own wife at the time never wanted him to lay a single finger on her, then who the hell would? With Jimmy, on the other hand, and the line of unfortunate work he has been dealt...well...

“Damn it,” Stan sighed.

He was tired of beating around the bush. He didn’t care one single bit if he just rambled on and on to Jimmy.

“I want to kiss you, Jimmy! I want to kiss you, and I want to touch you...but I don’t know how to do any of those things! My ex-wife wouldn’t let me do that, so why would someone like you?! I also don’t want to do anything that makes you think of me like all those other folks that take advantage of you and your body! I would never want to use you like they do! I wouldn’t want you to flinch if I were to lay even a fingertip on you!”

It was Jimmy’s turn to be surprised. He knew all about the whole ex-wife thing, but he hadn’t realized Stan was extremely bothered about Jimmy being used as a fuckboy since the middle-aged man always forgot or was insensitive about it. The occupation conditioned him to have the mindset that anyone he’d get intimate with would just end up using him like a cum dumpster and hand him some major hundreds of paper greens. It made him think that this was all his body, or even his own existence, was good for.

That’s exactly why he was never able to sleep well at night. Every chance he’d get at closing his eyes, he’d be transported back to clients that would intimidatingly tower over him, assault his asshole until it’d hurt too much to sit or lay on a bed, or even choke and beat him if he did something they did not like.

So the fact that Stan was worried about making him feel uncomfortable if he’d touch him...really just made Jimmy’s heart melt straight to his stomach. He thought it was the sweetest thing ever.

“S-Stan…” Jimmy cringed at his own voice shaking like he was about to cry. Fuck, maybe he actually was.

“It’s the truth,” the blond lamented. He set his eyes on anything other than Jimmy at the moment, but the younger man had suddenly cupped Stan’s cheek, causing him to look back at Jimmy. Back to those beautiful, yet tired, bloodshot eyes of his.

“Stan, you wouldn’t be like any of them. Not by a long shot.”

“Then I’d be lousy at pleasing you since I don’t know where to even begin.”

Jimmy placed his hand on the other side of Stan’s face. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll show you.”

“R-really?”

Jimmy nodded, even throwing in a genuine smile. It made him so happy to see Stan, his Stan, smile back at least. “Your pathetic excuse of an ex-wife may never have let you touch her, but I will gladly allow you to.”

Stan cleared his throat. “S-so, where should I s-start?”

Jimmy smirked, tilting his head to mimic the expression of deep thought. “You said you wanted to kiss me back, didn’t you? We can start with that.”

They brushed their noses against each other before Jimmy brought them back to a kiss, pressing his soft lips to Stan’s just as gently as before.

This time, Stan reciprocated it, finally taking control of his senses. He even let his eyes close as he tilted his head to really kiss Jimmy with meaning. Stan then picked up the distinct taste of the cigarette Jimmy had a while ago, along with the smell of cigarette ashes and sweat and bold cologne. All these overloads of tastes and scents should have disgusted Stan but he couldn’t have cared less. He didn’t mind it at all because he was kissing Jimmy at last. To say it felt like nothing Stan’s ever felt before was a stretch, but nevertheless, he knew for certain that he was loving it.

Because it was with Jimmy.

One of Jimmy’s hand let go of Stan’s face and trailed it down his neck and chest, not wanting to break their lips’ exchange for one second. He knew it was definitely safe to touch Stan this way because he heard a soft moan come from the older man. If anything else, the contact even urged Stan to open his mouth to get more of Jimmy’s lips, and he had to desperately restrain from pushing Stan up against the wall and take him then and there.

Instead, Jimmy took one of Stan’s hands and gently placed it on his own bared hip.

It was like a switch had turned ON in Stan’s brain, and he knew what he was asked to do without any words from Jimmy. He placed his other hand on Jimmy’s exposed chest, allowing him to gradually feel all of him at once.

They then separated for breath, much to Stan’s dismay. Jimmy moved down to kiss Stan’s neck, delicately at first and then sucking at the skin. He felt the goosebumps from Stan rise under his lips, signifying again that this was fine to do.

“You learn fast,” Jimmy chuckled. “It’s okay, you can continue doing what you’re doing.”

Seeing as Stan was given the green light to keep touching Jimmy, he smoothed the palm of his hands over every inch of his body. His hands admired the buff of Jimmy’s biceps, the light hair on his arms and chest, the broad of his shoulders, and even the slight flex of his abdomen when Stan’s fingernails brushed over it. One of Stan’s hands went as far as catching Jimmy’s nipple, causing the other to let out a low groan and dig his head into the crook of Stan’s shoulder, suddenly nipping his teeth on the sensitive skin.

Stan flinched a little, then giggled nervously once he realized why it had happened. “Did I do something right?” he sheepily asked.

“You did,” Jimmy reassured. “Could...could you maybe do it again?” Jimmy’s voice was shy when he said it, but it made Stan’s heart flutter knowing he was leisurely on the path to satisfying Jimmy.

His fingers graced against Jimmy’s nipples like before, even pressing down into the buds and feeling them get hardened. It reduced the younger of the two to become a purring mess. The sounds from Jimmy and the attack of his lips on Stan’s neck and shoulders urged the blond to explore all the ways to work his companion. It was as if endless treasures were unlocked for him to cherish from the very second he met Jimmy. It may have taken Stan long to get over Denisse, remembering all the days and nights he had cried about their divorce.

It made him feel foolish beyond belief to think he had wasted all this time chasing around beautiful women all over Los Santos, only to find that the key to all heaven was right next to him. That key just so happened to have a name; Jimmy Bending.

“J-Jimmy?”

“Yeah?” Jimmy answered when he separated from Stan, looking into his eyes.

“Were you just going to bring the blanket from your bed?”

Jimmy raised his eyebrows before remembering that they had tea awaiting them and Jimmy was supposed to bring him a blanket. “I...guess so. Do...you still want a blanket, Stan?”

Putting some thought into it, the blond shook his head, placing kisses on Jimmy’s face instead. “Later.”

“Oh? What about our tea?” Jimmy inquired playfully. He was actually astonished at Stan’s new-found confidence. He still hasn’t quite nailed the seductive part just yet due to his inexperience, but that doesn’t mean Jimmy didn’t also think of it to be adorable at the very least.

Stan ran his fingers through the tealed part of Jimmy’s hair before cupping the back of his head. “I can...not have tea.”

Before anything else was said, the two returned to kissing with so much vigor put into it. Jimmy gently led them over to his bed, turning them around so that it was Stan who would lay on the somewhat decent mattress and Jimmy towering over him. Although the way they were positioned easily reminded Jimmy of various “appointments” with clients, he knew for certain that this moment here with Stan was nothing at all like those. Just the way they took the time and care to discover what turned them on and turned them off said enough.

“Do you want to take anything off?”, Jimmy asked.

“I...I’m not sure. I’ve never been naked in front of someone before.”

Jimmy chuckled, mentally cursing Stan for always being so cute in everything he says and does. “You don’t have to be completely naked if you don’t want to, Stan. I’m not entirely naked myself, as you can see.”

“Well...you were about to b-before I walked in.” Stan blushed a beet red.

“True, but I originally wasn’t planning on being naked for long. Now, however, I don’t mind it at all.”

Neither did Stan apparently, considering that his eyes couldn’t keep from staring at the shirtless young man above him. “I do feel bad for being the only one in clothing out of the two of us,” he admitted. “I..I just don’t think I-I’m all that...you know...compared to you and all.”

“Oh nonsense, Staniel,” Jimmy comforted. He massaged the older man’s arms before trailing down to Stan’s waist to untuck his polo shirt just enough to slip his hand under. He felt his stomach, then up to his chest where there was evident curly, thick hair on pecs. Jimmy wrapped a finger around some of the tuffs, amused at seeing Stan sigh at the touch. The blond even pushed his body up against Jimmy’s hand to get more feeling. “Still not sure about getting undressed there?”

“U-um…”

“Would it make you feel better if I turned off the lights?” As much as Jimmy wanted to see all of Stan clearly, what he wanted more than that was for him to be safe in however way he wished. “It wouldn’t be all that dark,” he added. “There’s a faint glow from the city lights at this time, even with the curtains drawn.”

“O-okay then,” Stan said. “We can do that.”

With that being said, Jimmy got off of the bed to quickly turn the light switch to OFF. Just like he described, the entire room was pulled into slight darkness with the illumination of blue and pink from the lights outside the complex. Jimmy returned to his place above Stan. “So, you wanna start with the fanny pack?”

Stan nodded, and so Jimmy reached his hand down to his waist as the other lifted his body up to help. Jimmy unclipped the accessory and gently set it on the nightstand. “What’s next, Staniel?”

“You can do my shirt.”

Jimmy pulled Stan’s polo shirt up from the bottom as he lifted his arms up to assist. Stan may be a light-skinned fella as it already is, but his bared chest and stomach were even lighter now that Jimmy saw him shirtless finally. He leaned his face down to the exposed fleshy skin, making sure to worship every spot of Stan by planting attentive smooches. He also wanted to make sure Stan knew how beautiful he was to Jimmy.

“What were you so worried about, Staniel?” he said between kisses. “You already look gorgeous and strong as it is. I wouldn’t even dream of you looking any other way.”

Words could not describe how grateful Stan was for Jimmy to show his body some rightful appreciation. He decided not to even use words at all, and just let sounds do all the talking. He let out moans as his hands roamed their way over Jimmy’s hair and then down that smooth back of his. He gripped Jimmy’s hips to pull him down closer to him, pressing their torsos tight with so much need to feel skin to skin.

Jimmy made his way up to devour his lover’s lips as if his life depended on Stan’s kisses, never getting enough of them. It was already becoming his new favorite drug, and it delighted him to no end to hear the beautiful man beneath him moan and whine and sigh, all because of his doing. Even the strong grasp of Stan’s hands on his body excited Jimmy, and the feeling of one of them going as far as cupping one of his arse cheeks sent Jimothy spiraling into aroused bliss himself.

Without any warning whatsoever, he thrust his still-clothed groin against Stan’s, a deep moan emitting from both of their throats. When they broke apart to catch their breaths Jimmy starred into Stan’s bright eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Stan. What are you doing to me?” he gasped.

“Touching you? I thought that was obvious?”

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know you’re touching me, Stan.”

“D-did y-you want me to stop?” Stan asked nervously.

“Are you kidding me? Of course not! The complete opposite actually.”

It overjoyed Stan so much to know that Jimmy was loving his touch, mentally shouting a sort of “take that!” at Denisse. He squeezed Jimmy’s buttocks again, getting the same reaction from him as he rubbed against Stan. The blond was surprised to feel a distinct hardness this time around from Jimmy, and his own khaki shorts felt tight around the edges, meaning only one thing.

“J-Jimmy…”

“Yes, Stan?”

“Can...can I take off your pants while you take off mine?”

Jimmy soon widened his eyes at how direct the request was. “Are you absolutely sure you’re ready for that?” he questioned.

“I mean…” Stan chewed his lip anxiously. “M-my undercarriage is losin’ some empty space here…”

“Stan.”

“Yes, Jimmy, I am absolutely sure. I’ve gone these long forty years of emotional twists and turns without losing my virgin-card even once. I thought it’d be over and done with when I married my ex-wife, but that certainly was with no prevail. I thought that the women I’ve desperately pursued after in this city would be the answer, but still nothing. Then, here you...here we are…”

Stan didn’t even have to finish his sentence. Jimmy’s eyes softened. He cupped Stan’s face in both hands and kissed him. “Stan, I am honored to relieve you of your position as a forty-year-old virgin,” he whispered.

“Jimmy?”

“Yes?”

“I...I love you.”

Hearing something like that would usually make Jimmy feel nauseous. Like Stan, he never thought he was someone worthy of being loved by another person. Love was something Jimmy didn’t believe in anymore, losing hope in it long ago. So long ago that he couldn’t even remember the exact date and time.

To Jimmy, love meant a lot of things:

punches from strangers, bruises, abuse, pain, being thrown around like a ragdoll, money, drugs, sex, forced sex, nightmares, not being able to look at yourself in the mirror, feeling disgusted with everything about yourself, and not being able to love yourself.

Love was something that Jimmy believed only to be in movies. Movies with happy endings, and it’s happy endings he thought he would never receive for as long as he lived.

Until now with Staniel Wheeler.

“I love you, too.”

With all that was said and done, both men got to work on unbuttoning one another's jeans and shorts. There was no need to be in any hurry, so they took all the time they wanted, admiring every curve of their hips, thighs, legs, and calves. The men kicked off their bottoms and tossed them aside, along with Stan’s boat shoes.

Jimmy palmed the self-evident bulge in Stan’s boxer briefs, causing him to whimper and shimmy his hips to maintain the contact with the other’s hand. It wasn’t even much that Jimmy was doing but it still sent rushes of arousal through Stan. Out of nowhere he grabbed Jimmy’s wrist and pressed his hand farther down on his crotch, letting out an elongated moan louder than what Jimmy’s heard from him yet.

It felt like Jimmy’s head was spinning just from watching Stan go crazy right now, and they were only still in their underwear. It caused his own member to twitch with lust. He had never thought that he’d ever find a man twice his own age to be so God damn attractive.

“What do you want right now, Sunflower?”, Jimmy inquired. “How can I take care of you?” Usually, when these kinds of questions were asked by Jimmy to people he’d be with, his tone would be that of forced passion with no other need than to only get his clients off. Now, his tone was affectionate and with meaning.

Stan looked up at the young and handsome man above him, not even being shy about what his body needed from him anymore. He was giving himself to Jimmy and he couldn’t have thought of anyone else in Los Santos or even the entire world to finally lose his virginity to. “I want you to jerk me off, Jimmy. I want your hand to wrap around me.”

In all truthfulness, Jimmy never thought that he’d hear such a request of him coming from Stan of all people, but it added more fuel to Jimmy’s fire in his stomach. “Of course,” he whispered. He pulled Stan’s boxer briefs down ever so carefully like he was unwrapping a fragile gift on Christmas morning, and he certainly was in a way. Just like that, Stan’s dick sprang out of the fabric. Jimmy looked him up and down, taking in the reality that Staniel Elizabeth Wheeler was fully naked in front of him. “Holy shit,” he muttered.

“W-what is it?” Stan began to worry that Jimmy was suddenly turned off by him, thinking that he was disgusted and had changed his mind.

That wasn’t the case, however, as Jimmy smiled at him. Even with very little light in the room, Stan could see the love in Jimmy’s eyes. “You are so beautiful, Stan.”

Relief washed over Stan. “Come here.”

He pulled Jimmy down and the two shared a quick chaste kiss before the other already sat back up again. Jimmy reached his arm towards his nightstand and opened a drawer. His hand fumbled in dimmed darkness for a bit before he had pulled out a small bottle full of clear liquid and a Trojan condom. He sensed hesitation in Stan’s eyes, and he was quick to calm his anxiousness.

“The bottle is lube. It’s going to make my hand slippery so that giving a handjob is easy. We won’t use the condom just yet until you’re ready.”

“Ah, alright.”

“And wouldn’t you know, the lube is actually water based!” Jimmy thought this would excite Stan at least.

Instead, it perplexed the older man. “Water-based lubricant? Why would that be a thing? Water is for drinking, and only for drinking! It’s for quenching the thirst of parched people - ”

“If you utter one more word, I will send you out into a snowstorm with your boner hanging out. I won’t even give you back your clothes, you’d just walk up the stairs to your apartment cupping your shivering balls.”

The interruption from Jimmy cut Stan off, and he giggled embarrassingly. “R-right, I’m sorry.”

Jimmy popped the cap of the bottle open and poured a very little amount on his palm. He then placed the lube gently on the nightstand and looked down at Stan. “My hand’s going to feel a little cold at first,” he warned. “You ready?”

Stan nodded. “Yes.”

Jimmy gently wrapped his hand around Stan’s erection with a firm grip. At hearing him groan at the touch he started a slow and steady rhythm, aiming for Stan to get used to the feeling of what a hand on his dick felt like. It was clear that Stan was enjoying it as he sucked in air and swirled his hips to get more friction. “Do you want me to go faster, Staniel?” Jimmy asked.

“Y-yes...please?” It came out more like a desperate beg than just a simple answer, and it sure got the message across to Jimmy.

He began to pump his fist at a quicker pace, and as expected Stan went crazy over the sensation. There came a heat in his pelvis and his hips would spring upwards here and there. Stan’s head rolled back into the pillow under him and he placed his own hand on his mouth to muffle his moans.

“Aww, you don’t have to be shy to moan in front of me, sweetie,” Jimmy reassured. “I wanna hear you.” With his free hand, he caringly moved Stan’s own hand away, giving a small peck to his soft lips, letting Stan’s blond mustache tickle him. Never did Jimmy pause his other hand that was occupied on the older man’s shaft, stroking it rapidly than before.

“Jim...Jimmy...mmm feels so nice…haaaaaah.”

Stan had thought that he was going to release himself onto Jimmy’s hand right then and there, but was proven wrong when nothing happened. Nevertheless, Stan was in heaven as Jimmy catered to his body and needs while continuing the work on his dick. Jimmy’s free hand caressed both of his nipples back and forth the same way Stan had done for him moments ago.

Not only that but then Jimmy soon replaced his fingers and leaned down to Stan’s chest. There then came the feel of something warm and wet and Stan looked down to see that Jimmy was running his tongue on his nipples, sending him into a frenzy.

Throughout this whole time, Jimmy had held off from giving any attention to his own hard-on, wishing to put more focus onto Stan. That is until one of Stan’s hands reached out and palmed Jimmy through his briefs, causing him to shot up and let out a yelp of both surprise and extreme lust. “S-Stan,” he gasped, “what’re you…”

“It ain’t fair that you’re taking care of me while nobody’s doing it for you.”

Jimmy’s heart jumped. “It’s not...about me, Stan. You’re the one priority here…”

Stan obviously ignored Jimmy and pulled his briefs down swiftly, his erection flying out in a single swoop. It was somewhat already wet with pre-cum so it was easy for Stan to mimic Jimmy’s hand on him, wrapping his fist and jerking the younger man. Unlike Stan, however, Jimmy let out a high pitched moan and immediately started thrusting himself into Stan’s hand.

“F-fuck Stan...I...I don’t...oh Jesus fucking Christ…” Jimmy’s mind raced as he tried his very best at fight off the imminent heat pooling in his stomach already. He was overwhelmed that someone wanted to take care of him for once instead of the other way around. “Stan...S-Stan please s-stop….STOP IT!”

The outburst made the older man pause what he was doing, and a look of horror was on his face. “I...I’m sorry, Jimmy...I just wanted to -”

“I know, Stan. You did nothing wrong, and I’m so flattered that you want to pleasure me at the same time. I love you for that.”

“Then why’d you tell me to stop?”

“Because...because I don’t want to finish just yet. Once I cum it would take a good while for me to fully take your virginity. I’d just be too exhausted to do it, Sunflower.”

Stan hadn’t thought of it that way, obviously for reasons they had already addressed. He recoiled his hand away from Jimmy’s member and interlaced his fingers with the others. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.”

Jimmy smiled and brought their intertwined hands to his lips, giving a sweet kiss to Stan’s fingers as a way of saying everything was fine.

“Um...Jimmy?” Stan uttered softly.

“Yes?”

Stan was quiet for a good while then. He even shifted his eyes away from Jimmy’s and he bit his lip. Jimmy began to think his outburst had scared Stan too much to request or do anything, and he mentally kicked himself in the ass for having him stop taking care of him. “Stan, I’m sorry for yelling at -”

“I’m ready,” Stan suddenly spoke up.

Jimmy blinked. “W-what?”

“I’m ready,” he repeated, even gesturing at the packed condom wrap on the nightstand.

A shiver ran down Jimmy’s back. So they were going to do this. They were really going to do this. He was really going to do this. It was then that he realized he was actually quite nervous about it, which was really ironic for many reasons. It wasn’t like he hadn’t taken other people’s virginity in his lifetime. Then again, those people were around Jimmy’s own age range. Stan was different, but not to say that it was a bad thing. Jimmy had to remember that while Stan is older than him, he had circumstances that led them to where they are now.

When Jimmy really thought about it, the fact that he was going to take the virginity of a way older gentleman excited him. Besides, there was another way this moment with Stan would be much different than the others.

Jimmy was not going to simply fuck Stan...he was going to make love to him...and that made everything so much better.

“I love you, Stan,” he said as he reached for the lube bottle again along with the condom.

“I love you too, Jimmy,” Stan had answered back.

Jimmy carefully opened the thick wrapper and pulled out the prophylactic, then rolled it ever so gradually onto his dick. Then was for him to prep Stan, who had been attentively watching Jimmy as he himself nervously anticipated what was to come. Even he knew that this was going to be it, a major moment in his life right now. Albeit it took Stan way longer for this to happen to him, he thought better late than never.

He watched as Jimmy popped the cap of the lubricant bottle open and poured the liquid onto his fingers again, only this time he separated Stan’s legs apart with just enough room to fit in between them. Stan flinched a bit when he felt the coldness of the liquid on Jimmy’s finger on his exposed hole. “Okay,” Jimmy began. “This is where things start to get heavy. What I’m gonna do is what’s called prepping, where I’m sticking in my fingers little by little until your body is used to having something foreign inside of you.”

“L-like a prostate exam?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy chuckled. “Just...yeah, just like that. So what I need you to do is relax, and breathe in and out. Can you do that for me, baby?”

The new nickname made Stan’s heart soar, and he smiled up at Jimmy. “I can do that.”

Jimmy lined up the tip of his index finger and instructed Stan to start the breathing process. When he heard him suck in a breath, Jimmy slowly inserted his finger inch by inch into Stan’s hole, whispering affirmations to ease Stan as he would groan and flinch again here and there. It went on for a bit until Stan gave him the alright to add in a second finger, and then the whole process repeated as Jimmy eventually added a third and final finger, then urged him to relax as he moved the digits in and out of Stan. After a good few minutes or so, Stan went from groaning because of the foreign feeling to then letting out faint moans.

“You okay to move forward?”, Jimmy asked.

Stan nodded.

With that, Jimmy took out his fingers and added a small addition of more lube to Stan before taking the tip of his protected member in his hand. He leaned forward to bring his body even closer to Stan while also maneuvering him to have his ass off the bed just a bit.

“I want you to breathe more, the same way you’ve been doing.” When Stan did what he was instructed to do, Jimmy pressed himself through the tight ring with care. He repeated lines of “you’re doing so good” and “keep going” throughout the process, even placing reassuring pecks on Stan’s nose and face. Again Stan would go from groaning to soon sighing and whimpering with pleasure the deeper Jimmy went in. It did hurt him, to say the least, but he knew it wouldn’t be that way for long, and the focus on Jimmy and how good it will feel helped ease himself.

At last, Jimmy was fully inside Stan. “How are you feeling?”

Stan exhaled the last breath he was holding and gazed into Jimmy’s doting brown eyes. “Ain’t gonna lie, it feels strange, but it’s a good strange.”

Upon getting his answer that Stan was alright, Jimmy smiled and kissed him. “I’m going to start thrusting now. Let me know if we need to stop at any time, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jimmy began a steady pace of shallow thrusts into Stan. The other smoothed his hands over on down to Jimmy’s back just to have something to hold on to. At a given point Jimmy’s steady rhythm increased and they both began to feel ultimate pleasure, with Stan being the first to moan lowly and the other followed. Jimmy’s weight shifted on top of Stan as he placed both of his hands in between Stan’s head and buried his face into the crook of the blond’s shoulder. He kept pushing in and out of Stan even faster and deeper until he felt him wrap his strong arms around him and let out an elongated gruffed whimper. He had already managed to find and hit his sweet spot. Jimmy lifted his head a bit to inspect Stan’s face for any warning and was met with such a breathtaking sight. Stan’s eyes were closed and his jaw was hung open. “You okay, there?” Jimmy made sure.

“O-oh Jimmy…”

Just the way he had moaned his name out like that was enough of an answer for Jimmy, and so he lost himself in his own aroused bliss. He locked his lips onto Stan’s in a passion-fueled kiss as he let his hips run on auto, even slipping in his tongue for a good measure, not even knowing if Stan would like it or not. Apparently, Stan did as his own tongue had run against Jimmy’s, and only then did things really get carnal.

Jimmy brushed against Stan’s prostate and the bottom man tightened his grip on Jimmy’s body, his fingernails digging into his back. The mattress below them soon squeaked the more Jimmy drove himself into Stan, making both grateful for the fact that he only lived on the ground floor. He took in everything about Stan in that moment, from how so unbelievably amazing it felt to be inside Stan, the way their heated skin slammed into one another, the moans that he was driving out from Stan, the mysterious yet sweet taste the inside of his mouth held, the way their lips devoured each other greedily, and then finally the reality that he was sharing this moment with him.

They soon parted for much-needed air, a given chance to hear their moans more clearly now. “S-Stan...Staniel…mmm my Staniel....fuck you feel so damn good, my precious Sunflower!”

“Jim...Jimmy...o-oh s-sweet Lord y-you fill me up so d-darn well!” There was an evident heat spreading all through the depths of Stan’s being, and it was something that he knew could not be contained for very long. He didn’t ever want to have this, all of this, to stop. He wanted nothing more than to stay this way with Jimmy forever, them being connected together and become one with their bodies. It was all just so addicting, not even his addiction to oxy could ever match what’s happening here.

The burning pool inside of Stan was approaching quicker than he could have held off and he clung onto his lover as if he’d fade away if he didn’t. “Jim...Jimmy I...I feel s-something…”

“Go ahead, Stan,” Jimmy finished him off, his own release catching up. He reached down to stroke Stan off to help him reach his climax, sending him over the edged.

“J-Jimmy...Jimmy...o-oh h-haaaah J-Jimothyyyyyyyyy!”

Everything had gone bright has Stan lost himself. His hips stilled and he came into Jimmy’s fist, his lover’s name on his lips as he rode off his orgasm.

It did not take very long for Jimmy to follow right behind Stan as he gave one last powerful thrust into him, letting out a hoarse groan while he spilled all of his hot load into the condom. He thought he saw stars even as he clenched his eyes shut and collapsed onto Stan’s sweating body.

The men had stayed that way while they waited for the high to wear off and regain their normal breathing. When they did Jimmy gently pulled himself out of Stan. He unrolled the soaking prophylactic on his spent member before tying a secured knot on it like it was a balloon and getting up from the bed. It was cute to hear Stan whine out of protest from the loss of Jimmy’s warmth on him. He went into the hallway to throw away the used condom in his bathroom waste bin and grabbed a hand towel from the shelf.

Jimmy returned to his room and his place on top of Stan, cleaning both of them up with the rag before setting it aside and laying his body back on top of him. He tiredly lifted his head to meet his eyes with the very man he loves, smiling weakly at him.

“How was that?”, he mumbled out, running his fingers through the curly and damp blond strands of hair on Stan’s head.

“Do I even have to answer that?”, Stan lightly laughed. Still holding onto Jimmy, he pulled him in for a chaste and fatigued kiss.

“I take it that I did pretty well then,” Jimmy chuckled.

“You betcha. Thank you.”

Jimmy grinned and kissed the tip of Stan’s nose before resting his head on his chest. “You’re welcome. I should also thank you as well.” The steady beating of his heart next to his ear easily lulled him to sleep. He knew from this very moment that he would never dare to try and fall asleep with someone he’d have intercourse with unless it was with Staniel Elizabeth Wheeler. There was possibly no escape from the life and job of a male prostitute, but at least Jimmy had someone at home to come back to every time.

The last thing Jimmy heard before falling asleep in the safety of his lover’s arms was Stan whispering, “You’re welcome as well”.

#friendlypack fic #friendlypack #stan the water man #stan wheeler #stan x jimmy #stimmy #friendly jimmy #jimmy friendly j bending #gtav #gta5 #fanfiction #my fic #explict #dont steal #lol now it is time for me to get some sleep

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rough-n-randy-rando · 5 years

Text

Edd and Flow; First Contact

In the void that comes when one loses consciousness, there are a wide range of possibilities. Depending on what precisely was the trigger for said loss of consciousness, it can be just a black hole, no light, or thought, can escape the pull. In other cases, like exhaustion, dehydration, a mix of the two, there is a level of lucidity, a dreamy space in between the waking world and the void where uninhibited thoughts have the space to play themselves out. Much like falling asleep with the TV on and it having a direct impact on your dreams, what surrounds you filters into your dreamscape.

Kevin chose to put himself in a space of dominance, a literal spotlight bathing him in blinding white light from above, wearing a fluctuating wardrobe of athletic equipment, his confidence unquestionable and his pride unassailable. All around him crowds of faceless, cheering admirers clamored for him in the darkness. They called out his name, again and again, and as he waved at them with his baseball mitt, threw a football, bounced a soccer-ball on his head, they roared and swooned.

"Kevin?" a voice cut through the tumult, filled with affection and concern.

The redhead suddenly lost his balance, the soccer-ball ricocheting off his head and thudding embarrassingly somewhere beyond the cone of light, which began to grow wider, less powerful, less concentrated. The crowd gasped and fell silent on a dime. Kevin looked around, but couldn't find the source of his embarrassment, shaking it off and threw another football, perfectly spiraled, all the way to the endzone, flawless. The crowd roared again.

"Kevin, wake up, you're scaring me." The voice again, that sincere emotion.

The football he'd just thrown came sailing through the air right back at him, thudding hard off of his chest. Again, gasps from the crowd, only instead of silence, murmurs began. Whispers. The light grew even wider, dimmer, and his myriad of athletic attire was replaced by his old JROTC uniform, stripped of what few awards and what little rank he had. He still had his baseball mitt, and looked inside, finding a well-loved baseball. He removed it and threw it repeatedly into the mitt, hard, looking around, searching for the person ruining his reputation. The crowd clapped and whistled with guarded enthusiasm.

A soft breeze wafted over him, slightly warm, scented like toothpaste, and a cool sensation swept over his forehead, like someone was feeling for his temperature with the back of their hand. The light narrowed, leaving him in a beam barely large enough for him to stand in without spilling into the shadows. He began throwing fastball after fastball, his arm tireless, his supply endless. He had to hit something, someone. The crowd. They were wailing in unison, like people waiting for the wave to come to their section of the stadium, only it kept rising, and rising, and rising.

"Kevin, please, open your eyes." That soft breeze again, closer, warmer, on his face, not a breeze, breath, close, the soft wet sounds a mouth makes as someone worriedly grimaces, licks lips.

Kevin dropped the mitt, and reached out into the darkness, grabbing someone by the shoulders, sliding his hands up, a slender neck, silky hair curling down to meet him as they traveled up further, their chin, their cheeks, pulling them closer. There was resistance, but barely any, just surprise, warm, they're blushing, but still that prickly needle feeling. The warm breath, faster, unsure, excited, the soft brush of lips. Slightly colder, just barely, just enough.

"Double-Dee" It was his voice, his own voice, coming from the darkness that surrounded him. He could see the faint outline of the boy's features, his lips still just barely brushing against his own, the warm, minty breath now fusing with his own, spilling into his being.

"K…Kevin…"

"It'd be cute if I didn't hate half of the cast." Lee Kanker. The light exploded like the big bang, illuminating the faces of everyone he'd ever known, watching him in horror, in confusion, in disappointment, as he was planting the most grade-school of kisses onto Double-Dee; eyes half-closed, just enough pressure to feel his lips, not enough to part them. Then it all dissolved in a second flash of light and he was back in reality, which still included the kiss only now his audience was a disapproving Lee and a surprised Barb. Just Barb.

When he realized he'd finally been thrust back into the land of the living, he shoved the surprised teen away and skittered backwards like something out of an 80's horror movie, all hands and feet.

"Woah Kev, chill, it wasn't that hot." Lee shrieked with laughter and walked back around the counter, returning to her magazine.

"Red, calm down hon, I'm from San Francisco, no shame, no judgement. Not a bad choice either." Barb tried to break the tension with a motherly, sensible chuckle, looking between the two teens sitting on the floor for some sign of success.

"I'm, ah, I'm glad to see you're a-a-alright… Kevin." Double-Dee got to his feet and played with the hem of his shirt, trying to keep himself from making eye contact with the other teen.

Kevin stood and looked around. Lee, Double-Dee, Barb. Just Barb. No one else, no one else saw what'd happened. What he'd done. "Sorry, uh, Double-Dweeb, I thought you were, ah… Nazz, yeah."

"Give smarty some credit he's got a bit more baritone in his voice." Lee dramatically flipped a page of her magazine, leering at Double-Dee.

"I'm sure Kevin was disoriented, the heat is horrendous outside, and he did, ah, exert himself, after all."

Double-Dee was the only one giving Kevin an out, lending any credence to his half-assed explanation. He took it.

"Yeah, I mean, whoo, dizzy, woah." Kevin pressed a hand to his temple and leaned forward, putting a hand on his knee as though catching his breath. "Well I better get going home, gotta… lie down, and… stuff." Still pressing a hand to his temple he walked towards the door and could feel everyone's eyes on him, save for Double-Dee, who found something interesting to stare at behind the counter.

"You need a ride, Red?" Barb was trying to trap him into some awkward car ride, with 'you can talk to me's' and 'nothing leaves this car's' and Kevin knew it.

"No, thanks Barb, I need to clear my head."

"Gotta clear the Double-Dee from his mind." Lee was engrossed in her magazine and so didn't catch the withering look Kevin shot her.

He couldn't think of a retort, and so continued on his way out, stopping next to Double-Dee. "Thanks…" He needed to regain some kind of distance. "Eddward." And he left.

He'd only gone about a yard away before he heard the door to the shop open back up, sans bell, footsteps tapping and padding on the sidewalk. He continued walking, the sound of two car doors opening and closing, an old but well-maintained engine turning over, then a car approaching, and passing him. It was Barb's, Double-Dee in the passenger seat. He watched the car pass by, travel about a block, then stop, Double-Dee getting out. 'Crud' he thought to himself. He was waiting for Kevin, though he showed courtesy by looking at his cell phone, allowing him to approach without eyes on him as Barb had driven away.

He stopped a few feet away and waited.

Double-Dee put away his phone and looked to Kevin, "Barb mentioned some 'work' you had yet to complete. Am I right to assume it is a tattoo?"

Kevin mulled over a response. The dork had let him escape with something like dignity. And he was alone with him, finally. It had been a roundabout way of arriving at this point. "Gift from my Uncle when I turned 16. Top Secret, my old man doesn't know about it."

"May I ask where it is located?" Double-Dee was making eye contact now, though his expression was inscrutable.

Alone. Just the two of them on a Peach Creek sidewalk, baking. Kevin was baking, at least, Double-Dee, beanie and all, was immaculate.

"I'm not wearing anything under this monkey suit, to show ya I'd have to strip and I don't feel like doin it for everyone to see." Sweat. Not nervous, at least. But he did feel rank, cold coffee, grease, several layers of sweat. Was he just making excuses up in his head to let whatever was trying to happen, happen? What even was happening?

"Well, maybe some other time then." Double-Dee had gone from giving Kevin an out to pressing him against a figurative wall. Would there be another time? Could a catastrophe as perfect as what had transpired even possibly repeat itself? The other teen turned to go.

"Come over to my place, I can change and then show ya." Kevin started walking, brushing past Double-Dee without looking back. He heard footsteps and smiled.

The cul de sac was quiet save for the soft rumble and buzz of AC units on high and padmounted transformers working overtime in the heat. Only a couple families were home. Kevin's father was out of town, but due home in the evening. There was a wide window, and Kevin was leaping through it. There was no real plan besides getting indoors. Out of sight. Out of people's mouths.

Double-Dee was still behind him, about three steps behind. He'd glanced back when they turned into the neighborhood and saw that he was being observed by the other teen, his face betraying nothing.

"Heya Kevin, Double-Dee!"

Johnny's voice rang out like a cow-bell, loud and sharp. Kevin imagined it rattling dishes, waking people from midday naps, shaking fillings loose in corpses six feet under the ground. But no, the world remained silent and the cast had only increased by one.

"Why hello Johnny." Eddward Vincent, calm, cool, collected. Double-Dee, Triple-C's.

"Crud." Kevin Barr, stupid. Single S.

"What are you guys up to?" Johnny ambled over, Plank in hand. He'd sprouted during the summer between Freshman and Sophomore year, and now stood just a hair less than Kevin. His head, though, remained the ridiculous melon it'd always been.

Kevin had to think fast. For once he did. "Double-Dee's helping me with stuff for summer school."

"Aw, Kevin, really, summer school?"

"Yeah, you know, math, man, it kills me."

"Why yes Johnny, Kevin came to get me when I got off work, he's been quite diligent."

Kevin looked at Double-Dee. Nothing, just a pleasant smile.

"Plank says he thinks you're full of it. Rude, buddy."

Kevin's head had won a round, now his body would. He reached over and grabbed ahold of Plank. "Johnny, go long, Plank's goin for a long walk!" He tossed it like a very short, very awkward javelin, but the principle worked. Plank sailed off into the distance, across the lane, possibly into Nate's back yard.

"I'm coming for ya buddy!" Johnny took off in a clumsy, loping gait.

Double-Dee began to offer up some kind of objection when Kevin grabbed hold of him by the wrist and took off at a dead sprint, trailing him behind like a ribbon caught in a wind current. They covered the remaining ground to Kevin's house in record time, slamming into the front door, throwing it open and slamming it hard behind them. They were both panting, Kevin leaning on every available surface, his lightheadedness returning.

"I believe…" Double-Dee was slumped against the front door, drawing deep breaths, feeling his pulse. "I was promised… A private… viewing…"

Kevin made his way to his room, leaning on one side of the hallway then the other, his headache calming, his vision clearing. He was shivering by the time he got to his room, the house was like an icebox, his room only slightly warmer because it was facing the sun. He quickly stripped off his coverall and stood in just his underwear collecting himself. He felt gross, his skin tacky, red, a bruise forming on his arm from his fall in the Café.

"What am I doing?" He asked himself aloud, and no answer came. Then there was a knock at the door. Moment of truth. "I'm still changing."

"Does it really matter if you intended to disrobe in the first place?" There was a hint of nervousness in his voice.

There wasn't much he could say to that. Hesitantly he walked to the door and put his hand on the doorknob. He opened the door slightly, looking down at the ground, noticing that Double-Dee had taken off his shoes, curling and uncurling his toes in the carpet. The other boy's eyes were locked on his when he looked up.

Kevin had never known a deeper blue than that which he found in Double-Dee's eyes. It reminded him of the water you'd see in commercials for the Bahamas, pure, shimmering, dark ripples of captured light and shadow. There wasn't fear in them, there was longing, while in Kevin's heart he was afraid, terrified, of this raven-haired kid he'd known for most of his life.

He stepped back from the door and opened it all the way, Double-Dee taking a tentative step forward.

"I… believe I can see part of the design." The dork was sticking to the script, trying to let it happen naturally. Whatever IT was.

"Yeah…" Kevin turned so that the tattoo was clearly visible. It was an uncolored shark's grin in profile, with cartoonish sharp teeth and a furrowed brow, what looked like a multi-barreled cannon coming out of its nose. "It's nose-art, like what my dad had on the plane he flew in the Air Force." He rubbed at the incomplete design. "My 'Uncle' is his closest friend from back then. He said when my dad finally does see it to blame him and only him." A smirk played across his face. "It's dumb, kid stuff…"

Double-Dee stepped closer and reached out, tracing each jagged tooth slowly and deliberately. "It's quite fearsome."

The needles didn't come this time. Instead he felt a warm heaviness at the center of him, something bubbling, threatening to spill over. Before his dam could break, Double-Dee lifted himself slightly on the balls of his feet and pressed his lips to Kevin's. Kevin closed his eyes and savored the moment, small tremors across his body as his heart kicked into overdrive, the needles returning, washing all over.

Double-Dee pulled away, looking deeply into the emerald wells that were Kevin's eyes. This time Kevin leaned down and kissed the other boy, wrapping his arms around his waist while Double-Dee lifted his arms and draped them over his shoulders. Their lips parted, overlapped, Double-Dee biting Kevin softly, a slight moan escaping. They both pulled one another closer, passionate embraces that made their hearts race. The kiss was broken and Double-Dee moved down the jock's neck, a thrill running down his spine as he felt warm breath, then a tongue, play across his skin.

Then like that, it was over, and the two simply held one another, their hearts banging away inside their chests like prisoners in neighboring cells trying to reach the outside world.

"Your neck tastes like coffee." Double-Dee buried his face in Kevin's chest.

Kevin could feel them both vibrating with energy, running like furnaces. "Yeah I'm Gross." The two shared a laugh and grew quiet again.

"Kevin, you home?" Arthur Barr, 48, Retired Air Force Captain, manager of every candy production factory in this part of the state, home early and down the hall from his son half-naked and embracing another boy. Kevin wanted to laugh. Well he wanted to die, but first he'd laugh.

"You have to go." Kevin ran to the window and practically ripped the blinds from their mounts, throwing the window open and grabbing Double-Dee by the collar. "Gogogo!"

Double-Dee clambered out wordlessly, though there was a frantic look across his face.

"Kev, buddy, you left the garage open so I hope you're home." Closer, probably hanging up his keys on the goofy, wall-mounted hook that looked like a WW2 fighter plane.

"Yeah, Dad I'm here, just, felt sick." Kevin turned to see if Double-Dee had escaped yet and was met with another kiss, this one brief but no less passionate.

"Please don't let this be a mistake, Kevin." He was biting his lip and searching Kevin's face for reassurance.

Kevin wondered if that's what this was, if it was something he could bury and let fester till judgement day, deny to anyone and everyone, including himself. He pulled the dork by the collar and planted an equally brief yet equally passionate kiss and then pushed him away. "Tomorrow, The Playground, 8." And with that he closed the window and tried to re-mount the heavily damaged blinds. He saw Double-Dee clear the rear fence through the wreckage just as his father entered.

"What the hell, Kev, put some pants on, and what did you do to the shades?"

"It was hot, I came in to change, and, the, uh, I tripped on my clothes, yeah, sorry, I'll fix it."

"I hope so, I'm not buying new ones." His father was tired, and Kevin thanked whatever corporate asshole had overburdened him for the last year. Arthur vanished from the doorway and retired to his home office, likely to finish off some work on the computer before passing out in his chair.

Kevin gave up trying to reseat the blinds and laid them on the ground, then walked over and closed his door. He put his back to it and slid down till his knees were pressed to his chest. This had been the longest day of his life. And there was still tomorrow yet to survive.

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