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akirakurusuimagines · 3 years

Note

had the idea of reader getting marin karin'd and it not wearing off after leaving the metaverse so our dear boy helps her out by gently overstimulating her in front of a mirror 👉👈

I'm sorry for how long it's been taking to get this out! Hopefully the others won't take as long. Please enjoy! (minors DNI)

It only takes one mistake for everything to fall apart.

Akira believed they were sufficiently prepared to waltz right into Mementos and explore the depths that opened after the public’s response to their latest and greatest heist. He disregarded Morgana’s incessant warning that he was running low on ailment-curing items and revival items, reminding the cat that he was already planning on putting him and Makoto on the front lines this time so there was nothing to worry about.

So really, this mess was his fault. As leader, he knows he shoulders the responsibility of anything and everything that happens, even if his teammates don’t blame him.

It began to storm back in the real world as they reached the end of the current depths⁠; a painstakingly slow thirteen floors⁠ to comb through in search of treasure and experience. Everyone was nearing their physical and mental limits for the day, but at the sight of a rare challenger on their way back, they let their youthful recklessness seep through. One more, they all thought, one more to end the trip on a high note.

The high note they sought after quickly⁠ and almost comically⁠ became shrill.

The battle turned for the worst: unable to find a weakness, you and Mona were left with minimal SP, Queen had suffered an ill-timed critical attack and was knocked out cold, and Joker himself was running on fumes. Mind scattered in desperation, Joker attempted to regain some footing by attacking the particularly strong enemy with Marin Karin, hoping to charm it.

He didn’t expect that the enemy would end up reflecting it back at him.

Nor that you would take the brunt of the attack by jumping in front of him last-minute.

Joker and Mona finished the battle through sheer dumb luck, and all of the thieves expected things to return to normal. Queen stood up on shaky legs and thanked Panther for medicine, but when they turned to look at you, their hearts dropped.

Your face was flushed and eyes glassy, no different than how you were in battle. The unspoken rules of Mementos was broken⁠—somehow you didn’t come to once the fight finished.

Joker took to your side immediately, helping you up but freezing at the garbled moan that slipped past your lips the moment his hands landed on you. The others looked on with concern and fear, not understanding why this was happening, but it was obvious to everyone that they needed to leave immediately. He apologized to them and announced that he’ll be taking you home to make sure you’re safe and resting while the others research the strange divergence.

His arm wrapped loosely around your waist, keeping you steady as you mindlessly clung to him, and ushered you out of Mementos and towards the trains.

Akira felt like he was suffocating. If this is how he was feeling, he could only start to imagine what you’re suffering through right now.

He kept you hidden from view as best as he could, squished in the corner between the door, the seats, and him. Akira put you in a spare face mask he had and slid his glasses over your nose, hoping to protect your identity in case any snooping individual lingered on you two a little too long.

“Hold on just a little longer for me, okay? We’re almost there.”

He watched your knees buckle and your thighs clench together at his words and felt his mouth run dry. Akira willed himself to stay calm, to steady his heartbeat, but it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do when you were in a state like this. Especially considering he harbored feelings for you.

“Please,” you begged. He almost didn’t hear it with how quietly you murmured it. “Akira, I… I need…”

Fuck, you were going to be the death of him.

“Yeah?” he leaned in closer, hoping to catch the rest of what you’re saying.

Your hand grabbed his thigh, tugging his leg closer to you and causing him to stumble forward, balancing with his forearm next to your head. He stared at you with wide eyes as you shifted his leg with no resistance between your thighs and sat on it, slowly and carefully grinding against it.

Akira’s head whipped around, making sure no one was watching as you shamelessly used his leg to relieve some of the pressure that Marin Karin’s charm had on you. He nearly stopped breathing when you whined right next to his ear, a sound too soft for anyone else to notice as the train screeched to another halt.

Your stop was next, but there was no way he was making it out of this without a boner. He looked back at you and swallowed hard, only able to see the way your eyes were screwed shut and eyebrows knitted with frustration and concentration, pressing yourself a little harder against the meat of his thigh.

“Need more, ‘s too hot,” you blabbered softly, hands gripping the lapel of his blazer. “want you, want you so bad⁠—”

“We⁠—we’re almost home,” Akira choked out, each passing moment more difficult than the last. He wanted to pinch himself, wondering if this was actually some wild porno dream he was having back in Leblanc, but the way you felt rutting against his thigh like this was far too real for him to deny this was reality.

“Akiraaaa...”

He nearly lost himself when he saw your teary-eyed expression, suddenly grateful for the crowded train dissuading him from bending you over the train seats and giving into temptation. Akira wanted to know every part of you: every touch that makes you keen, every kiss that makes your head spin, every position that makes you cream.

Akira almost praised the gods aloud when the announcer comments on your stop, pulling himself off of you despite your whines and taking your hand in his, squeezing it tightly as he nearly runs out of the train the second the doors behind you open.

It was quite the ordeal dragging you back home. Every moment he stopped, your hands would wander, gripping his shirt or his belt loops, sliding your hand underneath to feel the warmth of his skin. You pressed closer and closer against him, your inhibitions far-gone, leaving only your charmed mind.

He grabbed your wrist firmly when you reached for his crotch at the door to your house, sucking in a large breath and hoping you’d be able to contain yourself enough for him to open the door with your keys and lead you inside.

Akira pushed open the door and dragged you inside, kicking it closed and locking it quickly. He couldn’t help the whole-body sigh that passed through him with the relief of privacy.

You, however, took it as your cue to tackle him to the ground and relieve yourself.

“Shit, wait, hold on⁠—” Akira staggered back, gripping your hip and arm and barley catching himself. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t want to try to get… uh… get off on your own?”

“No no no no no⁠—!” you shook your head adamantly despite your slurred voice, the sheer panic in your voice and face surprising him. “Want you, only you, please.”

Akira pressed his lips together in a tight line and hoisted you up in his arms, silently thanking the rough training he’s been enduring with Ryuji. The way your eyes lit up as he carried you to your bedroom made his heart palpitate, the rational side of him quickly losing to the promise of passion.

He really was weak to you.

He grunted as his legs hit the bed, falling down with you on his lap. Akira barely had time to speak before your lips were all over him, kissing all over his face and jaw as you roughly grinded against him. He choked down his moans and tangled a hand in your hair, hoping to slow you down with a sharp tug to your scalp.

Akira felt you seize up the moment he did, nails digging into his shoulders despite the layers of clothing, pressing your hips harder against his, and with a loud cry, he felt dampness against his crotch. It took a moment to process that you came untouched, just from him having you in his lap and tugging your hair.

“Did you just…?” his hand wandered towards your pants, slipping inside your underwear and feeling the sticky substance coat his fingers as he reached your thighs. He pulled them out, observing the strands between his fingers and licking them clean with a low groan. “That’s so hot. You’re so fucking hot.”

Akira palmed your crotch and felt you shudder as you rolled your hips against his again. “But… it isn’t enough, right?”

“Nnno…”

He looked around the room briefly and caught his own eyes in the floor-length mirror in your room.

“Stand up for me and strip, sweetheart,” Akira instructed with a gentle slap to your thigh.

He loved the way you scrambled off of him, shedding your clothes and looking at him with the same hazy doe-eyes that made him spend countless private hours fantasizing about. You looked at him with so much lust, being so obedient for him in hopes of getting another orgasm.

He shrugged off his blazer and tossed it aside, shifting closer to the mirror until it stood in front of him. “Turn around and sit back on my lap.”

Akira steadied you with gentle hands on your hips as you sat on his lap and pressed your sticky thighs together to feel some kind of friction against the torturous heat. He pried them open, spreading your legs to straddle him and spreading you open for the mirror.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he gently chided, “keep these pretty thighs open for me, okay?”

Akira refused to touch you until you nodded.

“Perfect,” he whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you’re absolutely perfect.” Akira guided his hands up from your thighs to your chest, brushing against your nipples and continuing his path up until he reached your face. He cupped your cheeks in his hands and tilted your face up, forcing you to look at the shameful display you created with him. “I want you to look at yourself as I touch you,” Akira explained, “I want you to see everything.”

You nodded dumbly, anything to get his hands back to pleasuring you. “Please,” you continued to repeat with breathless whines, “I want more, I want you in me.” You pushed your ass harder against his hard cock, hoping he would take the bait. You wanted to be fucked silly and at this point you really didn’t care how you got there.

Akira sucked in a sharp breath and shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut and stilling for a few seconds as you continued to grind yourself on his dick. “Later, okay?” his voice wavered and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his own word with how enthusiastic you seemed about riding him.

He let go of your face and skimmed your inner thighs, catching the cum from your first orgasm on his fingers and finally touching you properly. You keened, head falling back as he slowly pressed two fingers into your hole. “Yes⁠!” you groaned, spreading your thighs a little further and bucking your hips into his hand, “More, please, oh god it feels so good⁠— hnn!”

Akira’s hand steadied your head, once again pushing you to look at yourself as his fingers thrusted in and out of you. “Come on, baby. Don’t stop watching,” he purred as he scissored his fingers inside of you. “Oh, you liked that?”

You grasped his hair and his wrist, incoherent noises fumbling from your lips as Akira brought you to another orgasm within minutes. Marin Karin had quite the effect on you: keeping your stamina high and your libido higher, giving you more orgasms than you’ve had in your life, emptying your head and leaving nothing but pleasant buzzing.

He stared at you in the mirror, catching your unfocused gaze as your eyes shifted from his face to his hand and back again. “You’re doing so good,” Akira mumbled strings of words he barely paid attention to as you squirmed in his hold. He added another finger, stretching you out further and curling his fingers inside of you. He felt your legs shake and watched your jaw go slack as pleasure only continued to build.

“Again?” he asked, groaning at how you clench around his fingers, barely giving him room to move them. Even still, you continue to thrust your hips into his hands⁠, unsatisfied. “I’ll give you as many orgasms as you need,” Akira promised, kissing your cheek and resting his temple against yours, “I won’t stop until you’re begging.”

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lovelybucky1 · 3 years

Note

hey bestie it's pegmaster 👁️👁️ so i saw ur reblog of a ransom blurb and,,, listen. he needs to be put in his place, and who better for the job than you? he for sure thinks you're like everyone else he plays around with. someone who won't say no to him. he pushes and pushes and pushes, maybe subconsciously hoping for someone to finally push him back. enter, you. (elaborate on this however you like!! i got super carried away and wrote a whole ass blurb that ill just post seperately heehee)

pegmaster30 you never let me down

gif credit @barnesdjarin

warnings: sub!ransom, dom!reader, gn!reader, light pet play, nicknames (puppy), hair pulling, jealous ransom, mentions of anal/pegging, cock milking, chastity cage

you’re honestly surprised you didn’t notice how submissive ransom was at the beginning of your relationship

he would always act bratty, but you figured it was in a rich boy, i always get what i want handed to me on a silver platter type of way

he was so whiney, to the point where you’d sit on his dick just to shut him up

all the information was right there, you just didn’t see it. not until that nickname slipped from your lips during an argument

“come on, ransom, it’s just a weekend!”

“i don’t care! i dont want you to leave, you’re my girlfriend, not bucky’s!”

“what is your problem? you never get jealous like this. it’s like you need to follow me around like a lost puppy or something!”

ransom’s cheeks flush red at the nickname and his comeback died on the tip of his tongue. he first took interest in you because you could compete with him. when he’d yell, you’d yell back, and your arguments almost always ended in a draw. this was the first time he ever felt like giving in

“what did you call me?” he asks, voice trembling slightly

you put down your clothes that you were trying to pack in a bag and look at him head on with a confused look on your face. “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“what did you call me?” he repeats, face growing redder

“puppy?”

as if ransom really was a puppy, he let out a quiet whimper. you raise your eyebrows and step forward, placing your hand on his sweater-covered shoulder and he looks everywhere but your eyes

you have a suspicion of what’s going on. you know how he gets when he tries to hide how flustered he is. he acts tough, but really, the slightest breeze could get him going

“what’s the matter, ran? you don’t like to be called puppy?”

he opens his mouth but no words come out, so you continue

“poor puppy, too dumb to even give me a simple answer,” you grin as you drag your fingers up the side of his neck, just under his ear

“don’t start something you won’t finish,” ransom says gruffly, which makes you laugh

“and if i don’t finish it, what will you do? yell at me some more? tell me i can’t go in the trip with my friends?”

you cup his cheek gently and he leans into your touch and for a moment, you almost go soft

“i’m sorry, i overreacted,” he says quietly

“i know, baby, it’s okay. it’s not your fault that you can’t control your feelings,” you say condescendingly and you can see the anger flare in ransom’s eyes again. “you are gonna have to make it up to me, though. i won’t let you disrespect me like that again.”

you walk behind him and pull out his chair from underneath his desk. you move it into the center of the room, then you point at the floor in front of your feet

“come here, pup.” ransom crosses the floor in a few long strides and stands before you. “take your shoes and pants off.”

he kicks his shined leather shoes off and quickly pushed his pants and underwear down to his ankles before kicking them in the direction of his shoes

you instruct him to sit backwards on the chair and you take a moment to admire his perfectly smooth ass peaking out from under the hem of his sweater

“y’know, maybe i’ll finally let you fuck me in the ass,” you say, making him perk up. “if you let me fuck yours first.”

you slap his ass and laugh at how it jiggles, then you grab his cock and pull it down between his legs so it hangs down. his tip drips precum that you long to taste, but you won’t indulge him in that

you stroke him downwards, and which each tug, his whines get higher pitched and he gets more desperate.

you’ve seen him needy before, but you’ve never seen him quite this pliant and easy during sex. you were expecting more of a fight or at least a little backtalk, but instead, you have a desperate little whore leaned against your chest

“you like this, puppy?” he nods quickly. “i bet. you’re just sitting there while i do all the work.”

he looks over his shoulder back at you, putting his teary eyes and splotchy red cheeks on full display. he’s always handsome, but he’s downright breathtaking like this

“you’re so pretty, honey. those big blue eyes were made for crying,” you say as you brush a tear from the corner of his eye

you reach around his large body and put your hand on his lower stomach, applying gentle pressure that makes him squirm. he covers your hand with his and looks up at your helplessly

“please let me cum, i’m so sorry.”

“you’re close already? i’ve barely done anything, pup, you can hold off for a little longer.”

he hangs his head in acceptance and you begin to stroke him again. you tighten your fist around him and stroke faster, knowing that he’ll try to keep himself from cumming because he doesn’t want to push you any farther than what he already has

he lets out soft ah’s as you jerk him off and his thighs bounce on either side of the chair as he tries to keep his composure. his hands grip tightly on the wood backing of the chair and if it wasn’t for his whorish moans, you’d be able to hear the wood splinter

“i’m gonna cum, oh fuck, please,” he begs with fresh tears on his cheeks

“fine,” you sigh, “i’ll give you ten more strokes, and if you don’t cum by then, you won’t get to.” you know it’s unfair, but ransom deserves a taste of his own medicine.

you press your lips to his ear and start counting. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-

his orgasm built up enough and on the ninth stroke, he begins to cum, but the last wasn’t enough to ride him through it. he whines in pain and frustration, angry that you ruined his orgasm but too fucked-out to do anything about it

he bounces up and down on the chair, making it creak under his weight as he tries to fuck your hand, but you’re holding him tightly at the base. he no longer has to cum, but he is far from satisfied.

“fuck you,” he hisses, but the whine in his voice makes him less threatening

“i’ll finish you off when i get back, okay puppy?” you condescend as you pat his head.

“are you serious?!”

“raise your voice again and i’ll make it two weeks.”

his jaw clenches and he glares up at you, no longer the submissive pet he was just minutes ago

“you can’t stop me.”

“no,” you walk to your bedside table and retrieve a chastity cage from the drawer. you return to the chair and hold it inches away from ransom’s face, “but this can.”

“there’s no way in hell you’re putting that thing on me,” he says. he stands up from the chair and steps into your space, but it’s difficult to be intimidated when his cock his hanging out from underneath his sweater

you drag your finger along the underside of his dick, which is clearly sensitive based on the slight shiver he does when you reach the tip

“don’t you want to be a good boy, ran? it’s just a week, and i’ll even leave the key here if you need to take it off.”

he bites the inside of his cheek and sighs out of his nose. “fine, but don’t expect me to keep it on.”

you grin widely as you push up his sweater and lock the cage onto his soft dick. you don’t expect him to last long with the cage while you’re gone, but that will make the punishment more exciting when you get home.

“who’s my good boy?” you cup his cheek after you’re finished.

“i am.”

#ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #sub!ransom #sub!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale imagine #knives out #knives out fanfiction #knives out smut #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x f!reader #ransom drysdale x gn! reader #ransom drysdale x gender neutral reader

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chaos-burst · 4 years

Text

questions and answers

He had meant to be rude. And it had not worked even a little bit. Eodwulf is sure that anyone else would have been offended. Hell, he’s even sure that the other members of this weird group were absolutely offended on behalf of their friend. But Eodwulf can’t say he has ever met a person like this.

There was no malice, no ill intent, no anger.

When you work with Trent you have to be aware of every little shift in the mood. The slightest twitch of an eyebrow can mean the weather is about to turn foul. Eodwulf knows what to look out for. It had been his intent to rev this weirdo up and it had backfired spectacularly.

Damn.

No meat. No booze. And balls of steel, apparently. Eodwulf had never seen anyone talk to Trent like that. And while Bren‘s—Caleb‘s—words of wanting to kill Trent outright had been more than Eodwulf would ever admit to his mentor, it somehow felt less crazily reckless than to call Trent Ikithon, Archmage of Civil Influence for the Cerberus Assembly and one of the most powerful mages in the Empire, a fucking fool.

To his face. With a smile. In a complete sincere manner.

Eodwulf doesn’t want to replay the words in his head over and over again but his dumb brain has latched onto them and he can’t stop. Only this time it’s not one of Trent’s lessons that forces him to obsessively repeat something until you have internalized it to the point where you can cite it in your sleep.

No.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people.“

Eodwulf has it on repeat in his head the whole way back to the tower and it is still going when he lies down hours later to sleep.

“What are you“ had not been meant as a serious question when Eodwulf had asked it. But by the time he finally falls asleep he feels like it has become a very vital question indeed, because who or what would dare to speak to Master Trent Ikithon in a way like this with an honest smile on their face.

Because for some reason his thoughts have decided to betray him, Eodwulf’s brain makes his tongue and lips form the words again when they see the Mighty Nein the next time. This time, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited to dinner—Trent has very specifically not been invited, you could say he was uninvited with quite a few flowery words in a strange accent.

And as soon as Eodwulf sees Caduceus he remembers the weirdly polite scratching of a chair, the wide smile that indicates that this is a person Eodwulf possibly can not force to lose their composure through careful placed rudeness. And his mouth betrays him.

“So. What are you, really?“

Caduceus blinks mildly surprised before his unfamiliar features shift into a warm smile that has Eodwulf feel quite a lot of inappropriate things he didn’t expect to find in a place like this.

“Gardener. Maker of fine tea. A decent cook. Keeper of graves“, Caduceus lists of and he uses his long fingers to count the things that are important to him about himself.

“Very powerful cleric“, Jester chimes in from the right. She has Astrid next to her in a chair and Eodwulf is pretty sure that Jester has started to put flowers in Astrid’s hair. But surely he must be mistaken. Who in the Nine Hells are these crazy people?

“Oh, yeah. Well, that too, I suppose“, Caduceus says, his smile still warm like honeyed wine.

“Huh“, Eodwulf says because he can’t for the life of him think of something else to say. But Caduceus is yet again pulling out a chair for him so Eodwulf straightens his shoulders and sits down next to Caduceus. Across the table from him the angry one throws herself into a chair and stares at him.

There’s no fear there either, but she can be easily angered, something Eodwulf is good at. He gives her a canine smile and she holds up her middle finger.

This group is full of people with an enormous lack of self preservation.

And they are so loud.

Eodwulf almost doesn’t hear it when Caduceus turns to him to ask him a question.

“Huh?“, he says again, like a fool.

“And what are you, was what I wanted to know“, Caduceus says, his lazy grin open and honest. There is no malice in his words. He actually wants to know.

Eodwulf thinks “Murderer, wizard, protégé, spy“ but he doesn’t say any of these things. “Maker of graves“ comes to mind, but it seems like too dark of a joke to make.

“Enthusiastic about both meat and booze“, he says in the end and Caduceus laughs.

“Yeah, as are most of my friends.“

The implication these words bring is probably only in Eodwulf’s mind but it makes him swallow and look away to find Astrid’s eyes. But Astrid now has pink flowers in her hair and a look of absolute confusion on her face as Jester rattles of compliment after compliment about various of Astrid’s features.

Eodwulf can’t help but look at Bre—Caleb. And he sees that there is a soft, barely noticeable smile on his old friend’s face as he watches the scene unfold.

What am I, indeed, he thinks.

Trent’s orders have been clear. Get close to the group called the Mighty Nein to find out what they are working on with Lady Vess DeRogna.

Eodwulf allows himself to think that Caduceus might have been right. Maybe Master Ikithon is indeed a fool.

Because being in the presence of these people is like nothing Eodwulf has ever experienced and it makes him think, wonder, question—

“Here we are again“, Caduceus says after, yet again, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited for dinner. Eodwulf wonders if this group just wants to make it very easy to spy on them, or if they have an agenda of their own—but it’s hard to believe that there might be any coherent agenda behind anything these people do.

He has watched the buff one called Yasha try and play what looked like a harp made of bone and when the angry one, Beau, told her that she looked hot playing the harp Yasha had torn two of the strings which had led to a whole scene of apologies and various tries to fix the harp.

Jester has drawn dicks on pretty much every surface this magical mansion has and she delights in the fact that Caleb brings the dicks to life in various colors. At some point he made glowing sparkles shoot out of one of the dicks Jester had drawn and Jester had laughed as if this was the best joke she had ever witnessed.

Eodwulf notices Astrid’s eyes on Jester.

Eodwulf also notices that while there seems to be no agenda or efficiency behind anything, they are still being watched.

Beau and Fjord look at them. And Eodwulf is pretty sure Caduceus watches everything as well, but he does it without crossing his arms and glaring so much.

“Looks like it”, he answers. Caduceus offers him tea and Eodwulf’s first instinct is to decline, but then he remembers that “maker of fine tea” had been very high on the list of descriptors so he takes the cup he is offered while somewhere in the background people start screaming something that sounds like “FLUFFERNUTTER”.

Eodwulf tries the tea. He’s not a fan of tea, but this tea is absolutely delicious and he finds himself impressed.

“I believe this one comes from the Hollburns’ graves. Those remains made the tea grow quite fast, it was impressive.”

Eodwulf blinks at his tea and then at Caduceus. For a second his brain wonders if this statement should register as a threat, but it had been delivered with such honest delight and a sense of pride that Eodwulf discards that feeling.

“What?”, he asks. Caduceus points at the tea.

“Oh, well, my family grows tea on those graves we’re keeping. In case you wanted to ask me again what I am. Or—hm, I think I already mentioned that I am a keeper of graves?”

Caduceus trails off and looks thoughtful and Eodwulf stares at him.

“Keeper of Graves. That make you a follower of the Matron?”, he asks.

Caduceus looks at him and smiles.

“Not quite. My family serves Melora. But we are descended from a champion of the Raven Queen.”

Eodwulf can’t help but wonder if this was some kind of weird joke. But his goddess usually isn’t one for joking.

Eodwulf considers for a second, then he pulls out the raven feather pendant from under his cloak.

Caduceus nods. “So”, he says and smiles widely. “What are you?”

Eodwulf snorts.

“For real?”, he says.

Caduceus’ smile widens.

“For real.”

It feels like this has become a sort of game.

“What are you?”

“Moral compass. Middle sibling. Eccentric. Amateur flute player.”

Eodwulf finds that through this question he himself posed the first time, he’s been forced to think more about himself than he feels comfortable with.

“What are you?”

“Decent chess player. Dog person. Sportsman. Only child.”, are the things he says out loud.

“Self-made orphan. Patriot. Volstrucker. Torturer.”, are the things he thinks to himself.

Eodwulf has the impression that Caduceus is somehow aware of the things he doesn’t say.

“So. This is the crew you’re running with now?”, Eodwulf asks Bre—Caleb one night before the Mighty Nein will leave with Vess DeRogna to who-knows-where. Neither Astrid nor Eodwulf did get very far with their planned infiltration work. Eodwulf is not even sure how hard they even tried.

It’s very easy to get swept away by the chaos and the weirdness and the complete lack of fear that the group displays when it comes to him and Astrid. They are dangerous people in a lot of ways.

The Mighty Nein are also dangerous people in a very different way. A way that Eodwulf doesn’t know anything about.

“This is my family, ja.”

He says it, just like that, without looking at Eodwulf.

Family.

The word tastes bitter in Eodwulf’s mouth as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

“Weird people”, he says. Caleb huffs.

“You can say that, yes. But they grow on you very quickly”, he answers quietly and with a small, fond smile that makes something inside Eodwulf ache. For a long time Eodwulf pitied Bren for breaking, for not making it, for failing, for being locked away and discarded. Now he realizes that maybe, in a very macabre sort of way, Bren becoming Caleb through failure was the better end of the bargain.

It feels blasphemous to think that.

“The pink one is especially weird”, Eodwulf finds himself saying and he takes a big swig of whiskey from his flask before handing it to Caleb.

“Ja, I noticed that you seem to have a... uh... particular kind of interest in him. And, if I may add, he in you.”

Eodwulf takes the flask back after Caleb drinks. He contemplates the different sorts of feelings inside his gut as the words sink in. Then he tucks it all away very carefully, just as he learned through many years of being in Trent’s presence.

“Still don’t know what he is”, Eodwulf says. Caleb snorts and shakes his head.

“His people are called Firbolg”, he provides.

“Not sure that’s what I mean. Not anymore, at least.”

It seems dangerous to admit that. Caleb turns his head and looks at Eodwulf with a shimmer in his eyes that Eodwulf can’t read. Many years ago he was able to read Bren like an open book, but Caleb is another book entirely.

“You deserve to have some nice things, you know. You deserve friends. A chance of—hm. A chance of peace. A chance for redemption, if you want it.”

Eodwulf gets up and tugs away his flask.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people. Pain is inconsequential, it’s love that saves them.”

Eodwulf understands the truth in these words now. Bren was broken, Caleb is being healed. Eodwulf doesn’t think that there’s anything left in him that can be saved. Or should be saved.

“Good luck on your journey tomorrow. Don’t die”, Eodwulf says and he leaves Caleb behind.

What are you, he thinks. A sentimental fool.

Astrid sits next to him on one of the balconies of her house and looks up at the stars above them. The Mighty Nein have been gone for six days and it has been very quiet.

They sit in silence and share a bottle of whiskey, passing it back and forth instead of words. It’s been like this for many many years that they’ve allowed themselves to just be. Today though, Astrid breaks the silence.

“I’m going to be the one who kills him.”

She says it quietly, without remorse, without indicating that this is a scandalous statement. She says it just how other people would say “I’ll go to bed soon.”.

Eodwulf stops breathing for just a moment. Then he inhales the cool night air and turns his head to look at her.

“Could kill you for treason”, he says. She looks at him and cocks her head slightly, the analyzing gaze of a murderous spy meets its equal in silence.

“I’d love to see you try”, she says. Eodwulf grins. It feels reckless.

“Don’t die”, he says, the same thing he’s said to Caleb before. Astrid regards him for a long moment and Eodwulf takes another sip. “Will you help me or try to stop me?”

Eodwulf considers this for a moment. Would he try to stop Astrid should she try to kill Trent? No. Would he help her? He doesn’t know that either.

“Can’t you just wait for Bren to do it for you?”

“I won’t lose to him again.”

Eodwulf snorts.

Always so competitive.

“That’s some fucked up shit, Astrid.”

“Shut up, Arschloch.”

Eodwulf grins before getting up to stretch. He puts his hands on the railing of Astrid’s balcony and wonders what Caleb’s new family is up to.

Making a new family never came to mind before. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale. While he contemplates the question whether he would help Astrid kill Trent Ikithon, a slow, familiar voice pops up in his head.

“Hey. Uh—Jester told me to send you an update. We’re still alive. Hope you’re good. Got a new question for you. What will you become?”

The rustling of Astrid’s clothes as she stands up as well somehow tells him that she received a message in her head as well. She steps beside him and puts her hands on the railing next to his.

“They’re persistent”, she says quietly.

Eodwulf nods and inhales.

He doesn’t know what he will become. He didn’t even know that was a question to be asked. The path is clear. It always was.

Pain doesn’t make people.

“Not going to answer?”, she wants to know.

“Don’t have an answer yet.”

It’s unclear to him whether she means her own question or the message Caduceus just sent him.

He answers the sending spell with a simple “I don’t know.”. It takes a few minutes before another message comes in.

“That’s good. Uncertainty is good. It’s the first step in a better direction. I’m going to kill a dragon now. Wish me luck. Good night.”

“I’ll keep you posted on the answer to that question of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow”, he says and leaves Astrid behind on the balcony. Eodwulf thinks about something he hasn’t thought about in a very long time. A priestess in his Matron’s temple once told him: “Death is the only certainty in life.”.

He thinks that Caduceus would agree.

And Eodwulf hopes that the next time he sees that weird, reckless man, he’ll have an answer for him.

#cadwulf #blumengrove #caduceus clay #critfic #critical role #eodwulf #cr spoilers #fanfiction #caduceus #text #screeching into the void #this got a bit out of hand #but i just wanted to get some stuff out of my system

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axwalker · 3 years

Text

Creep 2: I don’t care if it hurts

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR

MASTERLIST HERE

Synopsis: Drake and Lexie are star-crossed lovers. Her father hates him and forces Lexie to stop any contact with Drake. Lost and heartbroken, he “bullies” her for two years until he discovers the truth of Lexie’s behavior.

A/N 1 This came up to me after I got an ask from @nestledonthaveone to write a fic based on the song CREEP.

I used to hear this song when I was a teenager, so when I read this ask, I immediately wanted to write something angsty but situated in high school.

A/N 2: Because they’re younger than usual, I decided to change my FC.

Words: 4,110

WARNINGS: Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love.

THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express his love. His behavior is not excusable.

This is a dark love story. If you’re not comfortable with it, PLEASE do not read it.

ALL MY FICS ARE 18+

TAGS ON THE COMMENTS

As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapter. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic, please do not hesitate to ask!!

DRAKE

Even if she never looks at me or speaks to me again, she’s mine. Even if I’ve been a horrible jerk to her for two years and she pales every time I pull into the parking lot on my motorcycle, she is mine. Just seeing her with him enrages me, so I walk straight toward my usual seat, directly behind Lexie, and slam my textbook down onto the desk.

Startled, Rys looks up at me, “Hey, Walker. What’s up?”

It’s not the first time he tries to make a move on Lexie. Last time –two years ago, we almost killed each other. Pretty boy might be an entitled ass, but he knows how to fight. Maybe he thinks Lexie is game again after all this time. He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Don’t you have a class this period?” I ask him. Liam cocks his left eyebrow, adjusting the straps of his backpack.

“I fail to see why that concerns you, Creep.”

My smile is murderous. “Get the fuck out of here before I break your face, pretty boy.”

I think he has a death wish because he looks at Lexie when he talks, “See you after class, Alexis, when your watchdog will be busy mowing my lawn.” Finally, he just shakes his head and gets out of the classroom. I resume my daily routine. Staring at the back of Lexie’s head, tracing the curve of her perfect neck, my cock getting hard over her perfect cherry scent.

“So that’s what you like,” I say, leaning forward to speak an inch from her ears. “You like them with blond hair and pink polo shirts. Prospects for Cambridge or shit. A huge trust fund. Don’t you? A brat like you needs someone who can spoil her. I bet you’d introduce him to daddy, wouldn’t you?”

She doesn’t respond. She never does. Her eyes stay stubbornly on the front of the class where the teacher has started writing today’s lesson on the board—my hands fist in desperation. I’m dying for her to talk to me. To look at me. Anything. “Too bad, Lexie. I’ll scare every single one of those fucking entitled boys off. You’re going to sit alone in your house on prom night, crying into your designer sheets like a baby. And I’m going to enjoy it.”

The only sign that she hears me at all is the quickening rise and fall of her shoulders. Even that tiny display that I’ve upset her is agonizing, floods me with self-loathing, but I can never stop. She ripped out my fucking heart, and I can’t deal with the consequences of that alone. I can’t let her go. I’ll never let her go. This toxic feeling is the only thing left between us. My hands shake with the urge to take her in my arms, to stop the trembling I caused. To protect her from everything. Even myself. I’d love to move my fingers up into the silky, brown hair that reaches the middle of her graceful neck. I don’t have a lot of money; most of the cash I earn as a handyman goes to food and fixing my dad’s cabin, but I’d give every last cent for her to turn and lock those soft brown eyes on me, just one last time. Sometimes when I jerk off, all it takes is fantasizing about Lexie looking at me, giving me one of those shy smiles, and I lose it. One stroke. Maybe two. Done. I can’t breathe without having her close. And I can’t breathe with her close. It’s a strange condition, this obsession, but she’s an addiction that I just can’t give up.

How could I? She’s intelligent, strong, and so damned gorgeous. Once upon a time, I thought she had a good heart too. But that was before she broke my pathetic heart only because I’m poor. I’ve been hurting since then, and I need her to hurt too. To know what it feels.

“Do you actually think that dumb rich boy would be a good choice for your first time, Lexie?” I grip my desk so tight it nearly breaks down, just thinking about her being kissed –touched by someone else. “At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with Rys for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my rundown cabin door, begging me to fuck you as we both know you’d like.”

A pretty blush is starting to climb her neck. I have to take a deep breath to keep from kiss her pink cheeks. But I think if I got to touch her skin, my wall of bullshit would crumble. I’ve only fucked one girl. Since seeing Lexie for the first time freshman year, there’s been no one but her. I want no one else. She owns my cock as sure as she owns my heart. How easily she’s forgotten about both leaving me in agony.

“Stop,” she breathes. I freeze. Did she just speak to me? It’s the first time in two years that she’s even remotely acknowledged my existence.

“Lexie,” I managed to say. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s all it took. One pleading word out of her mouth, and I’m done.

“Just stop,” she says again, turning her head slightly. “Please.”

I fall back in my chair, my heart thundering on my chest. If we weren’t in the middle of class, if I didn’t feel like a monster, I would pull her into my arms right now. I’d hug her until she stopped struggling, then beg her to hit me, bruise me, make me pay for every shitty thing I’ve ever said to her. But before long, the class is over, and she’s leaving the classroom to get out of here. To put distance between us as quickly as possible—and I have no choice but to watch her because I feel physically ill. Still, I manage to get out into the student-packed hallway, my plan to apologize for being crude and a jerk and torturing her for so long.

My head is telling me not to apologize, though. It’s telling me she deserved it for being such a snob, for breaking me, for valuing money and status like everyone else. My damned heart is telling an entirely different story. It’s insisting there is an explanation for her behavior. Am I going to apologize or not? The decision is taken out of my hands when Lexie opens her locker, and the little gift I left before class falls down. It’s a picture I cut out from our last yearbook. In the photo is a gorgeous smiling Lexie above the caption Most Likely to Succeed. Except I’ve crossed out the caption and added my own. Most Likely to Be a Trophy Wife. Watching her read it, I almost get sick right there in the hallway. Usually, she’s perfectly composed, not betraying a trace of emotion where I’m concerned—a real Ice queen. I’ve always thought she honestly didn’t care. Today, though… she’s not pulling it off. Something is not okay with her, and I don’t like it. She has to bite down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as she puts the photo back into her locker, out of sight, her bright eyes finding me briefly, massacring me where I stand. Betraying with one single look how much she has been affected by my actions. Christ. She hasn’t been indifferent at all.

Before I can react, before I can call her name, she’s gone, vanished into the crowd of wild students excited to be leaving for the day. And I know what I have to do. I have to see her. To apologize. To get an explanation for everything. Tonight. I’ll return to her house for the first time in two years.

LEXIE

I’ve known this was coming all day. Sitting on the couch in my living room, trying to make myself as small as possible, I watch my father pace. He rants, gesticulating noisily. This isn’t new, my father’s rage threatening me. But it’s going to be worse than usual. Business has declined for him and it’s put his temper on a trigger. Dad’s new wife, Nancy, hates to be on a budget, and she’s been spending his money like crazy all over Paris --where she’s now. When dad gets home from the office, he’s rarely in anything but a horrible mood. A tornado eating up everything in its path. Completely terrifying. At least dad’s temper makes me forget what Drake told me today, the ugly words he said to me, the boiling anger in his eyes when he looks at me.

“Are you even listening?” The slap across the face comes as a shock because I’d momentarily disappeared into my thoughts, but the sting quickly brings me back to reality.

“Yes, sir,” I say, my ears ringing. “I’m listening.”

“This C on your algebra test is going to drag your whole average down.” He’s waving the test in my face. “What a disappointment you are, Alexis. Your teacher shared my disgust.” I nod solemnly, but I’m listening for the rain outside. “I guess you’re your daughter’s mother after all. A poor Mexican girl who could barely count.” It’s not true. My mom learned English and Greek by herself, and she was a great Spanish teacher in Portavira, but my father would rather die than acknowledge how smart she was.

“Don’t talk like that about her,” I retort.

My father snorts. “I beg your pardon?” He takes a step towards me, and I can see the threat in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I hate to be such a coward, but I know what he can do to me.” I’ll do extra credit. Something to bring my grade back up to an A.” I wet my lips. “Even if I can’t manage to raise the grade, it’s not going to show up on the college transcripts I sent off with my applications.” That’s the reason I let my focus slip a little in algebra. The finish line is in sight for everyone, and we’re just waiting to find out where we’ll be accepted for college. It’s a wonder I’ve been able to maintain my focus this long in any class, considering Walker sits behind me in every period, brooding making me feel … something. At the reminder of him, I want to close my eyes and dream about him. I replay that night in my garden when he kissed me two years ago, so tenderly and passionately, when he spoke to me so sweetly and honestly before he became the second villain in my story. Someone I dread, as much as I crave the sight of him.

At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with that punk for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my trailer door, begging me to ride you right.

Should I be ashamed of the way my body reacted to those words? I grew uncomfortably damp in the hard plastic chair, the center of my body clenching, seeming to beat like a heart. His breath on my neck made me shiver, head to toe. Even the way he scared off Liam Rys did something to me. Aroused me. Deeply. It got so bad that I broke the rules and asked him to stop. I can still hear him saying my name in that tortured way after. That shocked, uneven sound. Lexie. And whether I’m ashamed of myself for it or not, I know I’ll think of it when I touch myself tonight. His voice, his hands, his eyes obsess me.

“College?” My father snorts, tearing the test in half. “You’re not going to college.”

This grabs my attention. A horrible feeling is making me cold. “I’m…what? What do you mean? I applied to nine different schools. I have a four-point five GPA.”

For the first time, I notice his red face is about more than just rage. There’s…humiliation. I’ve never seen him display that emotion.

“None of the American colleges that accepted you offered scholarships.”

“I’ve been accepted?” I gasp, sitting forward, heart pounding in my chest. “Where? I didn’t see the letters—”

“All the mail in this house goes through me, Alexis. I read them. And you failed to get academic scholarships. You failed. Not that I’m surprised.”

I don’t point out that his refusal to let me participate in any extracurricular activities is more than likely to blame for that. I’m too worried about what he’s saying, what this means. The blood is draining from my head, making the room spin around me.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry. But…we have money. We can pay tuition, can’t we? Or colleges in Cordonia are almost for free. I can go to any of them; I don’t have to go to NYU.” I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. This is my way out. College is the escape route. I counted on going back to New York, but I can stay here and go to college in Cordonia City.

“Listen to you, so quick to spend my hard-earned money—spoiled brat. And of course, you can’t go to college in Cordonia. What for? To end up being a schoolteacher like your mom? A housewife as Nancy?” He laughs bitterly. “No, you’ll stay here, and I’ll help you find someone suitable to marry.”

I shake my head. “There’s financial aid, then. Loans or I can get a job and go to college in Portavira…”

“You want to leave, just like her, don’t you? You’re all the same.”

I don’t even flinch when he yanks me to my feet, shoving me into the wall. In fact, for the first time, I took him right into his eyes. And I can see the violence burning on them has nothing to do with me. It never had anything to do with how I behave, my choices, how hard I worked in school. How welcome I made Nancy feel or cooked a roast. It’s about him and his self-loathing. It’s his sickness. Not mine. I can also see that he was never going to send me to college. Because he wouldn’t be able to control me from a distance or stop me from sharing what I’ve been subjected to since my mother died. Not like he does now. He wasn’t physically abusive all the time. Especially not when his new wife is around. But she traveled often, and then he’d push me. Shove me. Slapped me several times. I’ll graduate at the top of my class for nothing. He knew I would all along.

That’s when I realize I’m free. I don’t have money, but college is free in Cordonia. I can work, save a little and go to college in one or two years. I’ll be a writer; it’ll just take more time than I thought. “Go to hell,” I whisper.

He steps back, giving me the momentary satisfaction of his shock. “What did you say?”

Liberated, I scream it this time. “Go to hell!” From the moment I sat down to have this conversation, I knew tonight would be worse than usual, but I’ve just bought myself a ticket to hell. Usually, I can retreat to the untouchable place inside of me as he unleashes his rage, but not tonight. He doesn’t stop at one or two slaps. He punches and kicks, and I’m present for every punch and kick. Every yelled insult. Finally, I start to get scared. I’m crawling across the carpet on my hands and knees, searching for a weapon I can use in my defense when I glance out the window and see Drake staring back at me, his face a mask of horror.

Drake

What I’m seeing just isn’t possible. It can’t be real. My head won’t accept it. Not until her terror-filled eyes meet mine through the window and the truth pounds on my chest, leaves no doubt that this is real life. Lexie’s father is beating her. Her mouth is bloody, one of her eyes beginning to swell, arms and legs visibly weakened. I can barely fucking process it before my body is springing into action, desperate to protect her. To put a stop to the worst thing I have ever seen. What the fuck. Scorching hot rage takes over. I kick in the front door and throw myself between Lexie and her father. His fist is raised, but it pauses when he sees me, his momentary confusion giving me the time I need to knock him out cold. It only takes one right uppercut from someone his own size, and he goes down, his blank, glassy eyes staring at nothing, mouth opened. It’s not satisfying enough.

Nothing will ever be satisfying enough. I want to kill him, destroy him, but my Lexie is struggling for breath behind me, and she’s all I can think about. Turning, I approach her, my heart threatening to jump off my chest. As gently as I can, I catalog all of the cuts and purpling skin. No. No. Who could do this to her? Who could lay a finger on her in anything but reverence? Get her out of here. Calling her name, I reach down to pick her up, but she flinches and hurries back, bringing her body up against the wall.

“Don’t touch me!” Those words filled with fear rip the soul clean out of my body. My hands drop limply to my sides and two years come rushing back, hitting me in the chest like a hammer. Every word, every action. Everything I did to make her life harder when this is what she’s been dealing with at home? Fuck me.

“Lexie…” My voice is as kind as I can. I feel broken. “I’m sorry. I came here to apologize. For everything.”

She puffs a humorless laugh, testing her cut lip with the tip of her tongue. “Bet you weren’t expecting to see this.”

“If I knew this was happening, I would have been here a long time ago. I would have stopped it. I swear Lex.”

Her expression can only be described as stunned. Maybe even a little pissed. “You are not my savior, Drake. You are my enemy. You’ve been for two years, and I want nothing else from you now.”

“I am not your enemy.” Those words barely make it out of me, my chest hurts so fucking bad. “Don’t say that.”

Unsteadily, she uses the wall to try and stand. I try to help her, but she recoils, and it’s a dagger straight into the center of my throat. Nothing less than I deserve, though, isn’t it? Her distrust of me is entirely my fault. I’ve made her hate me. There has to be some way to fix what I’ve done. Please God, let there be away. But right now, my main concern is her physical safety. Knowing she’s been in danger all along is unbearable. I only decided to come here tonight a few hours ago. What if I didn’t? What if I arrived an hour later? The possibilities are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. From the floor, her father groans, shifting slightly.

“We need to get you out of here,” I say, anxious to get her free of this place. “Now, Lexie. I need to get you somewhere safe.”

She’s standing now. Leaning against the wall and cradling one arm to her stomach, regarding me warily. “How do I know I’m safe with you?” It’s so much worse that her question is honest. Not meant to hurt me. She honestly doesn’t know if I pose a threat. It guts me where I stand.

“You are the safest with me,” I say thickly, cursing myself. Wanting to erase the last two years so badly, my hands shake. “Please believe me. I’d die before hurting you. I’d never, Lexie. I’d never do something like that.”

Her father rolls over onto his back and slurs a few words before losing consciousness again. Still, the sound of the older man’s voice seems to scare Lexie, “I…maybe you can just give me a ride to…a motel maybe?” She pushes off the wall, her step uneven as she walks toward the stairs. “I need some things from my room.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her we don’t have time, but I’m just grateful she’s trusting me enough to leave with me, so I don’t argue. I just wait until she’s halfway up the stairs, then tie her father’s hands behind his back with my belt in case he wakes up before we leave. I have no problem knocking him out a second time, but Lexie has seen enough violence for one night. Cautiously, I walk up the stairs toward the light coming from a room halfway down the hall. This place is a far cry from my home. It’s elegant and clean, and tasteful, but it lacks any warmth whatsoever. It’s cold, like a museum. Turning the corner into Lexie’s room, it’s time to hate myself all over again. There is nothing on the walls, none of the expensive furnishings. Just four white walls, a bed, and a dresser that doubles as a desk. Several textbooks. She looks back at me over her shoulder as if judging my reaction, and I keep my features impassive, though I’m dying on the inside.

“What can I do?” I ask.

“How long do we have?”

“As long as you need.” It’s physically painful not to pull her into my arms when I’m standing this close, and she’s hurt. Sad. Yet full of more inner strength than I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. I’m lucky just to be in her presence. I fucked up royally. And if she allows me back in, I’ll never do it again. It’s probably, definitely, too much to hope for. Being allowed back in. She doesn’t even look sure about having me in her room. Let alone her heart. I was trying to protect my own heart, but I lost it instead.

“Um…” She closes her eyes to focus, a familiar trait I’ve seen in class countless times. “There is a black bag in the hallway closet. Can you just stuff anything into it from the bathroom that looks useful?”

Ask me to bring you a unicorn. I’ll find a way to do it. “Sure.” We work in silence, Lexie taking things out of drawers and adding them to the bag, which I’ve left open on the floor. I add toiletries from the bathroom, and once it’s zipped, I wait, watching her hesitate in the doorway.

“Lexie?” Conflicted chocolate eyes meet mine.

“I can’t just leave, can I?”

“You’re not safe here, baby,” I say softly, trying to keep the residual rage at bay because it’s the last thing she needs. Not to mention she’s had her fill with negativity from me. No more. “How long…how long?”

She shrugs, the saddest expression in her eyes. “My mom died five years ago. Ever since then, it’s gotten worse and worse. Although I never had a chance to talk to anyone about what happened behind closed doors, you know? I don’t think a person can evolve into a monster. It’s inside him.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I became one, didn’t I?”

That gives her pause, forms a line between her delicate brows. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

She starts to walk past me, stops, standing close enough to fill my nose with cherry. “He told me if I ever spoke to you ever again, he would hurt me. Ruin you, have you evicted. Make sure you never got hired again. I didn’t mean to…hurt you. Or hurt your feelings, if that’s what happened.”

That revelation destroys me, sets me on fire. “Jesus, Lexie. You were protecting me? And I…I tortured you for it?” I twist the neck of my T-shirt, trying to calm down, but it doesn’t work. I’ll never be calm again “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She glances at the doorway, then back at me, eyes closed again in that way that says she’s thinking. “All I want from you now is a ride out of here, okay? And on Monday morning, you’ll stop.” She opens her shining eyes again. “No more bullying, Drake. If you’re really sorry, you’ll do that for me.”

Fuck. I couldn’t say one more single shitty thing to her if my life depended on it. Put me at gunpoint, and I’d rather get shot at than torture this girl for one more second. But I’m highly, painfully aware that with an end to the bullying comes an end to the possessiveness. No more scaring off guys who show interest in her. No more getting close enough in class to count the hairs on her head, to smell her sweet fragrance. And to tell the truth, I’m pretty fucking worried I don’t know how to give those things up completely. I don’t think I can physically do it. This addiction with Lexie isn’t something I can cut off. A leg would be easier to sever. But my hesitation is causing her eyes to worry. If I don’t agree to, essentially, let her go… she’s not going anywhere with me. And that means her safety won’t be guaranteed. I need it to be. More than anything.

“No more bullying,” I say, finally. A moment later, I follow her out of the room and down the stairs, trying desperately to count the hairs on her head before I no longer have the chance.

#tw domestic violence #toxic relationship #tw bullying

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

Mr. Hyde

A Hendery fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Hendery is sweet, charming, and kind, but he possesses a dark secret. Unfortunately, Mr. Hyde won’t stay quiet for much longer.

Pairing: Chemical Engineer!Hendery x female reader (college student)

Genre: angst, smut, fluff, violence, murder, horror

Word Count: 10.5k

Warnings: mental illness mention, blood mention, knife mention, murder described, death of side character, possessiveness, cursing, smut: semi-public sex, protected sex, thigh riding, nipple sucking, slapping, choking, rough sex, car sex mention, daddy kink, size kink, slight degradation, dirty talk.

(A/N: WELLL Halloween is here you guys!! Thank you for the support we have gotten for this series, I hope you enjoy this fic inspired by the iconic Jekyll&Hyde story!❤️🥺)

————

“Oh, hello Hendery..”

“Hello, Mr. Hyde..”

“And how did it go today..with the Mayor?”

“That’s none of your concern, Hyde. Leave it to me.”

The dark voice lets out a haunting chuckle. “Hendery..what would you like me to do?”

“Nothing! I said, it’s none of your concern!” Hendery slams his hand down onto the counter.

“But it’s our lab, isn’t it?”

Hendery cups his face as he breaks down to tears. “Why?! Why won’t you leave me alone?!”

“Oh..Hendery, you can’t get rid of me, no matter what crazy toxins you concoct. I’ll be here, I’ll always be here.”

———

“I don’t see what my difference my presence here makes..” You roll your eyes and step out of your father’s black SUV.

The driver closes the door behind you while your father takes your hand in his and waves to the crowd with the other.

Today, you’ve joined him for a fundraising event in City Hall. The program is designed to bring awareness to a Missing Persons Search Team Fund. Lately, people have been going missing at an alarming rate and your father, the Mayor, is unsure of what to do about it. The police and volunteering citizens had done the best they could to conduct thorough search parties but no one was ever found. These people varied in age and description so there was no way to formulate a possible killer’s profile.

Your father initiated a curfew for everyone to abide by until they found the missing people and the kidnapper..dead or alive.

You were a college student and your institution was about two hours away, but your father didn’t feel safe and insisted on you staying at home while taking classes online. You did as he said, for you knew that this must’ve been difficult for him, considering your own dealings with the death of your mother. She was found murdered in an alleyway a few years ago, prompting a change in your father’s life. He was determined to become a leading figure in society that would bring down the city’s crime rate. And it worked...until now.

“The more people we have on board, the faster we find these people and the better I look, the better OUR family looks.” He whispered into your ear while displaying a wide smile to his “fans.”

You smiled as well and nodded.

And so, you found yourself seated at a round table by yourself as your father spoke with other leaders, sergeants, politicians, and the fund creators.

And what difference did your presence make? Nothing.

You scrolled through your phone and huffed. You saw pictures of your friends back at college. There had been a Halloween party the night before and they all posted pictures of themselves in their costumes looking drunk and happy.

You were jealous to say the least. You just wanted a normal life, but now even Halloween was canceled because of the curfew your father put in place.

You didn’t notice that a slender man with brown hair sat down beside you as you pouted.

“You must be so bored..” His low voice spoke.

You looked up at him and smiled. “Hi..yeah, I am very bored.”

The man in a nice dress shirt and tie laughed and then you realized you may have insulted one of the organizers.

“Oh!” You sat up straight in your chair and put your phone down. “I’m so sorry..I didn’t mean to offend—“

“Oh..of course not, sweetheart. I’m quite bored myself.”

Sweetheart. The way that word left his lips made your heart tremble.

You nodded and stared at his heart-shaped lips, maybe a little too long. “I see..” You looked away. “My name is y/n..the mayor is..”

“Your father..yes, is that the only reason for you being here?” He tilted his head while smirking.

You looked to the side and hesitated. You looked up to him with wide eyes.

“Y-yes, I’m sorry but—“

“Don’t be sorry, my name is Dr. Wong, but you can call me Hendery.”

Your mouth fell open. He looked like he was your age, but he already had a doctoral degree? You were stunned.

“I know..I’m kinda young, but I skipped a few grades.”

Your eyes widened. “Wow! That’s so cool, what do you do?”

Hendery smiled when you looked shocked by his title and complimented him. “I’m the leading chemical engineer at the WCT Lab..”

You gasped, WCT lab was responsible for breakthrough advancements in technology as well as medical advancements. That was what your city was primarily known for. And for this young man to be the leading engineer was amazing. Why was he sitting with you, a college student? Surely, you were only insulting his intelligence.

Hendery was pleased by your surprised look once again, he felt a sense of pride.

“Dr. Wong, I mean, Hendery..that’s amazing! You guys have done some wonderful things at that lab. Well..of course, you already know that.”

You closed your eyes. Oh how dumb you must’ve sounded to him.

But Hendery only adored you even more when you got flustered.

“It’s okay, y/n..It happens all the time. People don’t expect that from me, someone that’s just 21 years old, to be the head of all projects.”

You nodded, then looked to your father who was still speaking with several men and women of importance surrounding him.

“Why aren’t you up there with him?” You turned back to Hendery. “You’re just as important as them.”

Hendery glanced up at your father then back at you. Something about his gaze felt..good. His eyes were intense but made you feel like it was just the two of you in the room. You felt warm as you saw his shirt hug his biceps as he leaned forward.

“My presence doesn’t make a difference either, but it does make me look good.” He gave a wink as his smile widened.

Your face became warm.

“I’ll tell you what..come with me for a moment, I’m going to show you a cool trick.”

He stood up and held his hand out for you to take. You held it and smoothed your dress down as you stood up.

Hendery thought you were beautiful, unlike anyone else. You were like a butterfly with a unique pattern of vibrant colors on its wings. Your touch was delicate like one too.

He took you to the kitchen in the hall. No one was there but the two of you.

You stood by the island in the center.

“What are we doing here?”

“Are you nervous?” Hendery shuffled through the freezer.

“No..” You lied as you looked around for the closest knife to pick up just in case he tried anything.

“The knives are to your right.” He called out, as if hearing your thoughts.

You chuckled and leaned against the counter while feeling embarrassed.

“Okay, so I’ve got some ice..” He placed a few ice cubes onto the countertop and then reached over for the salt dispenser.

“And some salt..”

You nodded, unsure of where he was going with this. “Okay.”

“Now, hold your hand out.” He smiled at you again.

Your brows furrowed but you did as he said.

He placed his hand over yours. Your skin was smooth and warm, his touch was gentle as he slowly traced his fingertips over your knuckles.

He stood so close to you, you could feel his breath on your forehead.

Your eyes grew as a silent moment rested between the two of you, you looked up at him as if no one had ever held your hand before.

He cleared his throat and looked away from your eyes and to your hand. “I’m going to put some salt in your palm, then I’m going to place ice on it, simple right?”

You nodded.

Hendery smiled again and glanced down at your lips.

“Alright..good.”

He poured the salt out then put about three ice cubes into your hand.

“Now, close your hand.”

You do as he says and after a few seconds you wince in pain.

A burning feeling shoots through your hand, you open your palm out and shake the ice to the floor.

“Oh my God, Hendery! What the hell was that?” You look up in pain.

Hendery laughs.

“You see, salt lowers the melting point of ice..hence why you briefly experienced the burning sensation.”

“I could’ve gotten frostbite!”

Hendery only laughed harder. “Y/n...you wouldn’t be so stupid as to let it stay long enough for that...but I am.”

You looked up at him questioningly.

He poured salt out into his own hand and placed ice onto it.

He shut his hand and smiled. You watched him intensely. How could he endure this type of pain for so long?

“Hendery..that’s enough, you should stop now.”

You go to grab his hand, but he turns.

“No, no, I’m fine, I promise.”

“Surely, that must be painful, Hendery!”

“Does it impress you?” He turns when you try to open his hand again. He smirks while he watches you freak out.

“No..no! It doesn’t, it’s freaking me out actually!”

Hendery pouts with his hand still closed. “Oh no..I wanted to impress the pretty girl.”

You shook your head. “Let me see your hand.”

He turns again.

“Hendery!”

“I’ll let you see it, if you let me take you out some time.”

You tilted your head. “Oh my God, that’s why you did this? Hendery..why didn’t you just ask?” You peel his hand open and see red, burnt skin. Several lesions have been created.

Your eyes widened but Hendery only adores your face while you hold his hand.

“So is that a yes?” He pays no attention to the burns on his palm, knowing that they’d go away soon enough if he just drank the right thing for it.

“You’re crazy, but yes, you can take me out.”

————

[Two Days Later]

You and Hendery swapped phone numbers later that night. You agreed to go to the street art fair where you would walk around and learn more about each other.

Hendery waved to you as he walked over to the entrance.

He looked cooler now, in a flannel and jeans while aviator sunglasses covered his eyes.

His hair had a slight wave to it and hung more loosely than it did the first time you met.

“Hey Doc, how’s your hand?”

Hendery held his palm out to you and to your surprise, you saw nothing that would indicate he had burned himself just two days prior. His palm looked normal.

“W-what?”

“All healed up, I told you I’d be fine.”

He smirked then took your hand and led you through the gate.

The fair was calm, you got to talk about your major in college and why you were home this year.

Hendery told you that he got his degree overseas and came back here to help your town. He said that he always felt drawn to it for it needed so much assistance, he felt he was the one to help.

You liked his dedication to his craft, but even more, you liked watching him talk about it. His eyes were shielded from you, but even then you could tell that he was passionate and in love with his work.

“Well..I guess it’s time to go home..gotta get back before curfew.”

You stared up at him. “You’re right. I had a—“

“Y/n! What are you doing here? I thought you were home.”

It was none other than your father. He hustled towards you. Hendery’s smile fell as he watched him walk over.

“I’ll go mad if I spend any more time in the house, dad.” You sighed and crossed your arms.

His focus shifts from you and to Hendery. “And young man, it’s nice to see you again, but what has my daughter done to warrant your presence?”

You rolled your eyes, your finger rubbed your temple.

Hendery chuckled softly. “Your daughter and I had a wonderful time today, we were just saying goodbye.”

Your father frowned and looked back at you.

“Well...goodbye then.” He stepped towards you.

You turned to leave with your father before you could be embarrassed any more. Your father was always like this since your mother died, overprotective and on guard.

“Y/n…” Hendery’s soft voice called out.

You turned back to look at him. Your face looked gorgeous in the sunset, the sun made your eyes glitter and your lips were shaped perfectly. Of all the art he had seen today, you, in this moment, were the prettiest sight he’d ever seen.

“Yes?”

“I’ll..see you later.”

You smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

When you got to your father’s car, he scolded you on how you shouldn't be interested in speaking with anyone right now, for everyone was a suspect.

“You have to be careful, no one is safe!”

You leaned your head against the window.

“I understand, father, but all of my friends are at college right now, would it really hurt if I go out every now and then?”

“Yes! Yeah it would hurt, why? Because you could go missing or lose your life!”

“Why are you so strict? He’s a nerd, what harm could he possibly do to me. I thought you’d like him, I know mom would’ve--”

You stopped when you realized what you had said. Your mom's death was something that you were both still grappling with. You tried not to speak of her, for it only made both of you more upset.

Your dad sighed, he held back tears. “Y/n..I’m sorry..I’m sorry I’m this way..Sometimes I can’t help it, but..I’m just worried, I-“

“I know, dad..let’s just go home.”

When you got inside he spoke to you again before you headed to your room. “That boy..If you want to see him again..He’ll be at the soup kitchen on Thursday, he’s always helping out there.”

You turned and smiled. “Thanks, dad.”

———-

[Thursday]

You had volunteered at the soup kitchen a few times during high school, it was a rewarding experience, for you got to help out while hearing from members of the community that you wouldn’t usually meet or speak to. They varied in age and overall life experiences, each one had a story to tell.

You stood in the utilities closet of the kitchen alone and put your apron on, but struggled to tie it in the back.

“Damn it..” You whispered, you just couldn’t find the other strap.

Then you felt a presence behind you.

“Do you need help?” You heard a familiar voice say.

But before you could spin around to face him, his fingers tapped along your waist on both sides and grabbed the straps. He stepped closer, leaning down to breathe against the back of your neck.

A chill ran through your body as the apron tightened around your body perfectly.

You finally spun around to face him.

“Hendery.”

He watches his name fall from your lips.

He smirks and licks his lips. “How’d you know?”

You laughed, but his intense and low gaze on your face made you weak.

“Your voice..I’d recognize it anywhere.”

Hendery blushed and laughed.

“Do you like my voice, sweetheart?”

Another chill vibrates through your body and you find yourself pressing your legs together.

You breathe heavily and nod. “I do..and I’d like it if you’d call me at night...when you leave work of course.”

“Understood.” He licks his lips again and turns to leave. You follow behind him and out to the main dining area where you both serve food together.

During your break, you watched him go to each table to talk to all of the families eating. He grinned as they asked him how he’d been doing since the last time they saw him the week before.

He even sat down next to any elderly attendees that needed assistance with eating their food.

Your heart fluttered. He was so kind, caring and handsome on top of it all.

“How long have you two been seeing each other?” A man said. His voice broke you out of the trance Hendery had you in.

“Oh..” You turned to him as you leaned against a wall.

“We aren’t dating.”

The man that spoke to you was none other than Yuta, the head chef and owner of Osaka Moon, the best restaurant in the city. He was in charge of providing food for the soup kitchen every Thursday and did a wonderful job each time from what you had heard. Everyone loved his five star meals.

He smiled softly. “Well..if you continue to look at him like that..it won’t be long til you do.”

“Like what?” Your brows knitted.

Yuta only chuckled and shrugged his shoulders before walking away.

But he was right, you started dating. You found yourself FaceTiming Hendery every night until you fell asleep. You spoke about everything, never running out of topics to talk about and never getting bored. His personality, like Cinderella’s slipper, fit yours incredibly well.

Fortunately, that wasn’t the only thing that fit perfectly.

———

[1 Month Later]

One day at the soup kitchen, the two of you found yourselves knocking over cans of fruit in the kitchen closet.

Your legs wrapped around his waist as he slid in and out of you for the first time. You just couldn’t hold back anymore. You wanted him badly and a kiss just wasn’t enough.

He covered your mouth with his hand, for your moans were beautiful but grew increasingly louder as he rubbed your clit.

He breathed heavily into your neck. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ruin you later for being so loud.”

You let out a mewl while the wetness between your legs increased at his words.

Your nails scratched his back as he pinned you against a cabinet.

And later that day, he did ruin you in his car before he let you out to go home. He parked just a few blocks away, luckily his windows were tinted so no one could see him bringing you to paradise in the back seat with your hands tied behind your back with his belt.

You laid down together when you finished.

His fingers played in your scalp as your back rested against his chest. He kissed your neck and listened to you breathe.

“How’s school?” He said in between kisses.

You took his other hand in yours and intertwined your fingers. “It’s okay, finals are stressful.”

“Well, you know I’m here to help.” He kisses you again.

You smiled. “Of course, but I know you have your own issues to deal with. How are things at the lab?”

You knew he had been frustrated lately because some of his appeals for certain projects had been denied by the national organizations. You failed to remember the very specific details he told you the night before, but he was overjoyed that you remembered him even mentioning it.

He smiled to himself, tucking your hair behind your ear as you yawned.

“Things are okay, it'll all work out, I’m sure.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Hendery chuckled. “Because they all give in to me sooner or later.” His voice sounded a bit different then, it was deeper, rougher.

Deep into the night after Hendery drops you off home, he drives down an empty street.

“When will you tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“About me! About us..”

“She will never know about you because you don’t matter!” Hendery says sternly.

“Fuck you! I’m the reason why you got this far, you fool!”

He grips the steering wheel and winces. “I like her..a lot. I can’t hurt her. I won’t hurt her.’

“And how many times have you said that before? Hmm?”

Hendery blinks slowly and looks to his rear view mirror.

“The clock strikes 8 and the world goes empty, which poor, wandering soul will be our next victim?”

“‘Our?’ You’re on your own..”

“And when the blood is on my hands, don’t forget to look down at yours too..now shut up, and stop here..this girl looks lonely.”

“No..I won’t do that.”

“I wasn’t asking! Pull over!”

“No!” Hendery struggles, but pulls over and stops right beside a girl waiting at a bus stop.

“Hello..need a lift?”

——

[1 Week Later]

You hadn’t seen Hendery since that night, you knew that he was busy with work, but you didn’t think he’d be this busy.

“Hey.” You say once he answers the FaceTime call.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

He looks disheveled and has bags under his eyes. His eyes look intense as he props the phone up beside his computer screen and continues to type.

“Are you still at the lab?”

Hendery feels soft when he hears your sweet voice, it calms him down. He stops typing and looks at you, all cuddled up in your blanket on the bed.

“Yeah..” he pouts, “I wish I could be there with you right now..”

“Oh? And what would you do if you were here?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Ahhh you naughty girl, well..just for that, I’d only cuddle you..”

“Henderyyyy don’t be so cruel, what if I need you?”

“Then I’d hug you tightly and make you wait until the morning.” He winked and started typing again.

“What if I call you “daddy?” You whisper into the phone, knowing that it would drive him crazy.

His typing fingers stuttered for a moment but he exhaled and furrowed his brows as he continued his work.

“Baby? I haven’t seen you in so long, play with me..please.” You begged.

“No..not tonight, sweetheart.” He wasn’t even looking at the screen anymore.

“But baby..”

“I said no!” He said angrily. You never heard him like this before. His voice was rough again and different, like it had doubled.

He looked at you then back at his computer screen.

He fidgeted and had trouble breathing for a moment, but you stayed silent.

“I’m—I’m sorry, I should go now, goodnight.”

He hung up before you could say goodnight.

That was the first of many moments that were strange to you. Hendery wasn’t as sweet sometimes. He’d be short with you even at the soup kitchen. When you tugged his shirt to pull him to the back he ignored you and fixed his hair.

He looked tired and you tried to pin it on him acting on the stress he was recently experiencing, but the truth was that it was much more complicated.

Late at night, Hendery would find himself fighting someone else. Someone that had been more intent on doing their own thing.

“Let’s take a walk in the park tonight.”

“No, Mr. Hyde..”

“Really? I think it would help you to relieve some stress.”

“I need to sleep..I feel terrible, I don’t even know what you’re doing anymore..why don’t you stop this? Why don’t you leave me alone so I can function like a normal person?” Hendery holds his head as he lays down on his couch.

“You can rest while I take care of the imbeciles out there, the more we kill, the happier we’ll be.”

“No!!” Hendery shouts. “How many more?! How many more must die at your hand? I will control you! You will not overrule me!”

He grabs a glass of green liquid from the coffee table and brings to his lips. He chugs it down as tears stream down his face, but soon he is thrown to the floor on his knees. He feels fingers in his throat, his eyes roll in the back of his head as veins protrude from his forehead. Then, out comes the liquid that he just struggled to swallow.

He balls his fists up and cries. “NOOOO!! That was the last of it!”

“It’s okay, Hendery, it’s time to go to sleep anyway. You’ll make more tomorrow, but you’ll be just as defenseless against me.”

“No, no, please don’t! Please don’t kill anyone else!”

“And what would you rather me do to gain satisfaction? Torture them until they BEG to be killed?” Mr. Hyde laughs sinisterly as Hendery drifts into unconsciousness.

The next morning, Hendery wakes to find himself covered in blood, he can’t remember how he got to his bed or whose blood is on him, but he sees the knife at the end of the bed covered in blood as well. He breaks down in tears and yells out for mercy as he realizes that he can no longer control Mr. Hyde.

————

[Two Days Later]

You meet up with Hendery for a Starbucks date.

“I’m sorry about the other night..the stress got to me.” Hendery smiles softly when he watches you burn your mouth with hot coffee.

The truth was that you like iced caramel macchiato but you wanted to be more “serious” around Hendery so you only drank black coffee like a “regular” adult.

You hissed as the hot liquid burned your tongue.

“How many times do I have to tell you?..just order what you want.” He giggled and sipped his own coffee.

“Eh, I know, but..isn't it a bit childish?” You asked with wide eyes.

Hendery chuckled and ran his hand down the side of your face. He adored you.

“No..nothing is childish if you enjoy it.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

You sat in silence most of the time as you both worked on your projects separately. Hendery still looked handsome, but strange. You’d glance up at him every now and then and see that his brows were always knitted and his lips moved like he was talking to himself.

He spoke quickly, so you could never make out what he actually said.

The bags around his eyes were red and his cheeks looked more sunken in like he hadn’t been eating well. His shirt was crushed, but when you first met him his shirts were always pressed and tucked in neatly. And his hair had grown out, like he hadn’t bothered to visit a stylist recently.

“Hendery..is everything alright?” You put your hand on his.

He quickly withdrew his hand and held it while glaring at you.

“I’m fine!” He said loudly, the few customers sitting nearby turned to the two of you when they heard his roar.

He realized he was loud and relaxed into his seat. “I’m sorry, again. I-I was just frightened.”

You nod slowly and put your hand back under the table.

Before the two of you departed each other, you gave him a hug and a kiss.

You walked towards your house as Hendery watched.

He felt pain in his heart when he watched you walk away with a defeated look. You were sad because of him, and he hated that. He just wanted to make you happy, he just wanted everything to be under control.

“Y/n..There’s a new art museum opening up on Friday, your father extended curfew just for it..would you like to go with me?”

You turned to him and smiled widely. “Is that a date?”

“Of course..we can spend some time in my car afterwards..if you want. Would that make you happy?” He gave you a wink.

You nodded. “As long as I’m with you, Hendery. I’m happy.”

———

[Two Days Later]

Hendery decides to have dinner with your father at his penthouse. He pretends to prepare a meal for him that was actually provided by Osaka Moon’s Catering company.

He had a maid make everything spotless and made sure to spend a little more time on his hair and outfit. He had to ensure that your father took him seriously, for he would plan to ask him once more for a donation from the city for his lab. They would be able to do more research this way.

He had posited the question once before, but gained a disappointing ‘no,’ as your father focused more on the missing people’s fund, however, Hendery believed it imperative for the lab to gain new resources and make new developments that would positively affect the city’s environment.

So tonight, he hoped that with some food and humor, he could convince the mayor.

“What are your intentions with my daughter? I see you have been seeing each other quite frequently lately..” your father took a bite of his steak and chewed while looking down at his plate.

Hendery smiled. “Your daughter and I have a wonderful relationship, I would say. She is very supportive and kind, the world could be better with more people like her.”

“Well, I certainly agree. Do you feel that you can protect her from this cruel world?” He looks up from his plate and looks sternly on Hendery.

Hendery swallows hard, but nods quickly. “Of course, I’d do anything to protect her.”

Cut the bullshit, get to the question.

A few more minutes pass. The two speak about wonderful changes that have occurred in the past year. Hendery even cracks a few jokes to get a chuckle from your father.

As things whine down and your father prepares to leave, Hendery leans forward and intertwines his fingers on the dining table.

“Mr. Y/l/n, I believe that you are a man of great intelligence, therefore, I believe that you will make the right call by supporting my lab.”

Your father raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms as Hendery continues.

“I believe that you will see the importance of funding our research at the lab. We will be able to make even more groundbreaking developments like we have in the past year. We need the resources should we continue.”

Your father thinks for a moment then shakes his head. “I am so sorry, son, but I cannot issue the funds to your lab at this time.”

Hendery sighs but the mayor continues.

“We are dealing with a huge crisis in our city right now, I have to help our citizens find their loved ones. Furthermore, with the holidays approaching, we must provide food and assistance to families in need. The budget for your lab is not there.”

“Yes, sir, I understand the importance of these things, but I have been asking for your assistance for these past few months now, we simply cannot go any further without it..” Hendery taps his finger against the table while trying to hold back. He swallows the grumbling in his chest.

His eyes stare intensely at the mayor, but the mayor is unfazed.

“I will not provide tax payers money to some boy that wants to do his little experiments..at the end of the day, your work being done is not a matter of life or death.”

Hendery twitches when he hears the mayor’s insult.

“Please..don’t make me do something I’ll regret.” He whispers lowly.

Your father leans forward in his chair.

“Is that a threat, boy?”

Hendery smirks and loosens his tie.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but just because you gave me some food, doesn’t mean I will bend over and let you do what you will.”

Hendery laughs under his breath. “Your daughter did.”

Your father shoots up from the table.

“What did you say?!”

Hendery’s eyes narrow, his mouth grows into a creepy smile as he laughs. “You heard me!”

Your father walks around the table and grabs Hendery up by the collar, but Hendery grabs the steak knife and presses the sharp tip into his neck just deep enough to draw blood.

Your father freezes, his eyes widen in fear.

“Hendery, what in God’s name are you doing?!”

“Hendery isn’t here anymore, you fucking fool. You should’ve just listened to him the first time, now I have to take over because he was too weak!” Hendery’s voice comes out in a deep tone your father had never heard before. Venom practically leaves his tone as he speaks.

Your father stares in confusion as the knife presses in deeper.

“Listen, you worthless piece of shit. We thought you were smart but it turns out you’re just as dumb as any other bimbo in this shitty city. So let’s spell it out for you, give us the money or we will kill your daughter…”

His head snaps to the right. “We won’t kill her!” Hendery’s usual voice cries out.

“Shut up!” He snaps his head back to the left.

“You’re-you’re insane.” Your father stares into his red eyes and pale skin.

He looks strange and scary, like someone that was already dead.

This couldn’t possibly have been the same person he spoke to just a few minutes ago.

“Aren’t we all, mayor?” He chuckles and twists the knife, your father cries out in pain.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll give you the money!” Your father couldn’t lose you like he lost his wife. He wouldn’t mess up this time, he had to give Hendery whatever he wanted if he wanted you to stay alive and well.

Hendery nods. “Good.”

He lets the mayor go and laughs loudly while still wielding the knife in his hand and watching the Mayor run out.

———

[Friday Night]

Hendery wakes up at 9 P.M. He looks down at his hands and sees bruises across his knuckles.

He sits up straight on the bed and rubs his head.

“Shit..what did you do?”

But there’s no answer.

He missed the entire day because of Mr. Hyde. He was taking his life over, it seemed the potion was no longer having an affect on him, for he couldn’t remember where he was on most nights. But even worse, more recently it seemed he’d blackout during the days as well.

He looks at his phone and sees that he has 13 missed calls and several text messages from you.

“Damn it!” He curses and jumps up from the bed. He runs to the shower to see if he can go to the art museum before you left.

He called you several times as he drove to the museum but you didn’t answer, you ignored his calls because you were pissed he didn’t show.

You were busy speaking with Ten, a writer for the city’s newspaper. He was observing an artwork when he came across you staring at your phone with tears in your eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

You looked up at him with a somber expression then broke down even more. He took you outside where you talked about what happened. He then told you a joke to make you laugh and about his job.

“I focus on stories that deal with art and culture, so of course I had to be here.”

“Oh, that’s very nice. The pieces in there are really interesting..well, at least from what I saw before I started crying like an idiot.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Don’t say that..you’re not an idiot. I’m sure he has a reason..you just need to talk about it.”

You nod. “But Ten, it’s not just that. He’s been...different lately. I can’t speak with him very often because he gets upset..this was supposed to be our first date together in a long time. It was supposed to be a “first” for us.”

Ten nodded as he watched you sniffle. “Have you thought about leaving him?”

You shook your head. “I really like him...I just think we need more time, maybe we just have to work on communication.”

Ten gave you a smile. “I agree, if you think he’s worth it, then you’ll both find a way to work it out. Now, it’s 9:30..would you like me to drop you home before you lose a slipper, Princess?”

You felt your face become warm as you smiled.

Ten walked you home as the two of you continued to talk about painters and the artistic styles you enjoyed.

You never noticed Hendery watching the two of you from across the street.

He felt his heart race, an animalistic side was creeping out as he watched you laugh and smile with another man. Sure, he didn’t show up for your date, but did that mean that you should move on so quickly?

Hendery grows angry, he sticks his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and watches Ten give you a hug at your doorstep.

“I should just text her back and apologize.”

“And what will that do? She’ll just ignore you then go on a date with this guy tomorrow.”

“Thats nonsense, she wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Oh, Hendery, he wants her, she wants him, it’s clear to see. But you won’t believe it until she trips and conveniently falls on his dick, will you?”

Hendery shakes his head. “Shut up!”

“Why don’t we just get rid of him so you don’t have to worry about that happening?”

“No! No more murders.”

“But Hendery, what about the elderly man from this morning? Or the middle aged homeless person from the afternoon? Or how about the young girl from the bus stop?”

“Stop it, Hyde!”

“Hendery...it’s time for you to go to sleep.”

“No! No!! Don’t do this again!”

But Hyde takes over once more, following Ten as he walks back to the museum.

———

[The Next Day]

You wake up late in the afternoon and turn the TV on for the news. Your dad already left for work so it’s just you in the house.

“Breaking News, it was discovered this morning, a writer from The Chronicles has gone missing. He goes by the name Ten and his vehicle was found with the key in its ignition and the front door open. Ten was last seen at the opening for the new art museum on 45th street.. If you have any information on Ten’s whereabouts, please contact the police at 555-5127.”

Your mouth fell open. The friendly gentleman that you met the night before had gone missing. You instantly felt guilty as you realized that he dropped you home and put his life in danger for it.

Then, your doorbell rang.

You looked through the peephole and saw Hendery.

You bit your bottom lip and sighed. You had been avoiding him since he ditched you, but you should’ve known he would visit you sooner or later when he knew your dad wasn’t home.

You opened the door.

“Hi.” You said with tight lips.

Hendery looked at you with pleading eyes that almost broke your hard exterior. His hair was wavy and hung in his forehead. His eyes looked tired and his face looked drained, but he still looked handsome to you.

“Baby..I’m so sorry, can I come in?”

You widened the door. “Yeah..I guess..”

Hendery brought in a large bouquet of flowers in one hand and a large gift bag in the other hand.

You sat down on the couch and turned off the TV.

“Okay, baby, listen, I’ve been at the lab a lot lately, I haven’t had enough sleep and I..I decided to take a nap like an idiot. I overslept and missed our date, I’m so so sorry, please baby, I didn’t do it on purpose.” He says in one breath as he drops the bag down and gets on his knees in front of you.

Your eyes widen. “Okay! Okay, you don’t have to do that..”

“Do you forgive me?” Hendery’s eyes are round and watery.

You caress the side of his face with your hand while he looks up at you like you’re the messiah. “Hendery..we should talk, maybe you should take a break from the lab..you look tired.”

Hendery melts in your hand as he closes his eyes. “Sweetheart..I love your touch..”

“You’re stressing yourself out, maybe it’s time for a vacation.” You continue.

He places his hand over yours and brings it to his lips. He kisses it softly.

“I’m fine, baby. I promise.” His voice is gravelly and makes you weak.

You sigh. “Sit beside me…”

Hendery smirks, he’s able to change the topic so effortlessly once he hypnotizes you with his eyes and touch. “Why?”

You lick your lips. “Are you really teasing me right now? After what you did last night?”

Hendery chuckles and gets up onto the couch beside you. You take his face in between your hands and kiss him deeply. You both grow hot and kiss each other with more passion as you struggle to breathe steadily, your tongue brushing over his and his teeth nipping onto your bottom lip.

He pulls away abruptly. “Wait..there’s something I have to show you.”

You watch him reach into the gift bag and pull out a large box. He hands it to you and grins. “Open it, sweetheart.”

“What’s this?” You lift the sides carefully and open the top. You then see that it’s a beautiful dress, but not just any dress. As you hold it above your head to let it fall loose from the box, you see that it’s the black Gucci dress that you told him you loved. It was long sleeve but slit down the center with a plunging neckline.

You gasped. “For me?”

Hendery nodded when he saw your face light up.

“Oh my god! Hendery!” You turned to him with your mouth still agape.

He nodded. “You’re gonna look great in it, baby, but there’s something else..” he reaches into the bag and pulls out a small ring box.

“Hendery..”

He opens the box and shows you a dazzling emerald cut sapphire colored ring.

Your eyes widen even more. “Oh—oh my god!”

You fling your arms around him and hug him tightly.

He laughs as you freak out over your gifts and holds you to his chest. The two of you fall onto the couch and continue to make out.

“I love it, baby, thank you.” You say before kissing his neck.

He feels a chill run through his body as you lay on top of him. “It’s a promise ring, I promise to protect you and love you for as long as I live.”

You felt your legs weaken by his words.

“Hendery..I love you..” you kiss his collarbone.

Neither of you felt that it was early, for there was an undeniable connection that you had to each other. You couldn’t imagine yourselves with anyone else.

You sucked his skin in between your teeth and listened to him moan, the purplish marks you gave him standing bright and clear as the sunny day outside.

You then pulled the band of his sweatpants down to reveal his hard member and licked the tip leaking with pre cum already.

You forgot about everything as the two of you made love. You only felt him, his love, his embrace, his caring nature. You loved it all and yearned for him to be with you forever.

———

[New Year’s Eve]

Things had calmed down a bit since that day. Hendery started looking and feeling better as his lab received more than enough money to continue research and development projects.

You also noticed that the rate of people going missing each week had gone down significantly, as if the culprit was taking a break for the holidays.

You felt happier now that Hendery and your father were both happier. Things felt right when you had Hendery by your side for Thanksgiving dinner and for the entire day of Christmas. And now, you could ring in the new year together. You hoped that your future would remain as bright as these past few days had been.

Hendery bought you so many gifts for Christmas, you had to leave some of them in his place. But you didn’t mind it, as it gave you an excuse to stay over some nights. Surprisingly, your dad was okay with that.

Your dad lifted curfew for the holidays, meaning you and Hendery could go to the movies or ice skating whenever you had the chance. You also got to make out by the giant Christmas tree by city hall and snap a few pictures together.

And when the nights were cold, Hendery wrapped you in his arms and kept you warm. He’d whisper sweet words into your ear and wait for you to drift into sleep.

He was taking double the amount of his “medication” to hold Mr. Hyde back. He was able to create more of it with your father’s generous donation that allowed him to buy the chemicals necessary. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that a part of him missed Mr. Hyde, for he felt more..confident with him around.

Nonetheless, Hendery spun you around on the ballroom floor as you danced.

The city was having a countdown special at a mansion owned by Johnny, the owner of the popular greenhouse conservatory on the outskirts.

His place was beautiful and you found yourself in awe at all of the art on the walls.

“I didn’t know you could dance.” You looked impressed by his dancing skills.

Hendery blushed. “I didn’t know I could either, but I may have watched a YouTube video or two to prepare for this..” he gave you a wink.

“Ohh..I see.” You laughed out as Hendery watched your beautiful smile. You looked stunning in the dress he bought you. Your neck and cleavage looked wonderful and oh so tempting. Your makeup was also done well, even though he thought you were gorgeous without it.

Hendery looked dapper in his suit and smoothed back hair. His hand on your waist and the way he looked into your eyes as you danced close made you tremble.

Hendery couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting down to your chest. He breathed heavily and the beast inside him dared to crawl out at any moment.

He was struggling to hold him back, but your silky, revealing dress has their thoughts running wild. He’s growing impatient. Sooner or later, Mr. Hyde will take over if Hendery doesn’t hold him back.

Hendery clears his throat and lets go of your hand. “Excuse me, I have to go to the restroom..”

A look of concern crosses your face but you nod and watch him scurry to the bathroom.

In the meantime, you watch your father speak to the elites a few feet away. You take a sip of your drink and look to the other direction.

A lady walks over to you suddenly.

“Hello! You must be the mayor’s beautiful daughter! How are you?” The woman asked enthusiastically.

You gave a smile that your dad would’ve been proud of and shook her hand.

“Yes! I am his daughter and thank you so much, I’m flattered.” You chuckled.

She nods. “You look amazing, but I couldn’t help but notice the ring on your finger.”

She points to the ring on your hand that is holding the glass.

“Oh.. what about it?”

“It’s just...I could’ve sworn I saw it on TV or something..” she puts a finger to her chin.

You shrugged your shoulders.

“Ahh! Yes! That’s where I saw it, on the news I think, it was missing from a jewelry store! I think it’s worth about 50 grand!”

“What are you talking about?” Hendery pops up behind her.

He walks beside you and takes your hand in his. “Are you really trying to harass the Mayor’s daughter by accusing her of stealing a ring?”

The woman shook her head. “I am so sorry, you guys have a good night.” She walks away.

You turn to Hendery. “What was that?”

Hendery’s face relaxes when he looks back at you.

“I don’t know, but let’s dance.”

You dance for a few more minutes. Hendery starts to sweat and pull your body closer to his, he licks his lips as he watches your eyes fall low.

“Baby, I’m so sorry but I can’t take it anymore.” He takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom upstairs where things are a little quieter.

You stumble into the bathroom while kissing. Hendery fidgets his hand behind him and eventually finds the lock. He also flips the light switch.

He wraps an arm around you, picking you up and placing you to sit on the counter.

You continue to kiss him but Hendery is impatient.

He lifts his mouth from yours and yanks down the fabric of your dress to reveal your hard nipples.

“Fuck..this is what I’ve been dying to see all night.” He latches his mouth onto your nipple, sucking hard as you hold your body up with your hands behind your back.

Your head falls back as his tongue lays flat against the hard nub then circles around it.

“Ahh..Hendery, that feels so good.”

He looks up at you through dark eyes then bites you.

You yelp and look down.

“It’s ‘daddy’ to you.” His voice is grumbly and deep.

You nod. “Daddy, give me more please.” You look up, dewy-eyed.

Hendery sucks and pumps harder. His touch is aggressive, but you don’t want him to stop. Just as long as he was touching you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, I could just watch you all night.” He whispers into your chest then flicks his tongue over your breast again.

He pulls the other side down now, your breast popping out like it was begging to be released from its restrictive cloth covering.

You sat there on the counter, choking back moans and tightening your legs together as he continued to suck your breasts dry.

“Daddy..please..I need you..need you in me.”

Hendery squeezes your breast harder as you squeal.

“Stand up.” He demands while walking back to a stool in the bathroom and taking his jacket off.

He sits down onto it and pats his thigh. “Show me how you’ll ride my cock.”

You walk over to him and part your legs before sitting down and facing him.

He glared at you sternly, no trace of love rests in his gaze as he watches you like a hungry animal.

“No underwear.” He clicks his tongue when he feels your bare pussy resting on his clothed thigh.

You shake your head.

“What a whore you are, I can’t wait to do whatever I want with you.”

You bite your lip and start to move back and forth, you feel your clit begin to gain satisfaction.

You press down harder and hold onto his shoulder while grinding onto his thigh.

Your chest feels weak. You feel so good as friction comforts that one spot.

“Does it feel good?” He whispers with a straight face.

“Y-yes, daddy, so good.”

“Then stand up.”

Your face contorts in confusion.

“Be a good girl and stand up.”

You reluctantly leave his thigh and stand up.

He grabs your hip with one hand and looks up at you through his lashes. He reaches under your dress with his other hand and delivers a short, sharp slap to your dripping folds.

“Ah!” You cry out, but you don’t dare move.

He runs his hand over it now, caressing it to soothe the pain.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

“Mmmm so wet, sweetheart.” He licks his lips and delivers another blow.

You would’ve fallen forward had he not been holding you with his other hand.

“You’ve been tempting me all night with this slutty dress, did you think you would escape punishment?” He growls.

And slap after slap you felt your skin getting warm, but your wetness never failing to coat his fingers.

“Please..fuck me.” You exhale after he slaps you.

“Get on your knees.”

You get on your knees and move to a position where you can suck his cock, but he shakes his head.

“No no no..on all fours.”

The cold tile aggravates your knees but you ignore it and focus more on the aching in between your legs.

Hendery gets on the floor behind you and flips up the bottom half of your dress so it bunches up by your waist.

He places his hands onto your breasts while grinding his bulge against your ass.

“Fuck..daddy, please.”

He watches you fidget below him, your essence coating his dress pants as you lay there and take him just like that.

Your pussy quivers each time his bulge just barely presses onto it.

You breathe heavily and moan.

“Do you think you can take me, sweetheart?” You hear him zip his pants down. A sense of relief floods your body.

“Yes.”

“Without taking my fingers first?”

“Yes, daddy.”

You can feel his tip hit your thigh. You move backwards and closer to him, just to feel him closer to you, anything to feel him.

“No, no stay still.”

He slides a condom on and watches your ass perk up in the air in anticipation. Your beautiful folds drip before him.

You gasp as he runs his tip in between them to coat it with your slick.

He smirks and grabs your waist while burying into hard and deep.

Your body falls onto the tile, you cry out loudly from the pain of him suddenly stretching you out but he wraps an arm under you and picks you up.

“I said, stay still!” He grumbles out again but his tone is harsher, darker.

Your arms shake as you hold your body up and attempt to adjust to his length.

He was both wide and long, tears escaped your eyes as he slid into your tight opening.

“So..fucking tight..especially for a whore like you.”

You bite your lips to hold back an embarrassingly loud moan.

He slides in and out quicker and pulls your head back by grabbing your hair. “Why are you crying? Is it too big for you?”

He thrusts hard, making your ass cheeks shake against his hips and your mouth fall open. He was never this rough with you, you wondered why he sounded different.

He was also bigger than usual, you thought.

“Mmmm..n-no.”

He thrusts hard again, nestling himself deep within your walls and pushing against your insides.

He then pulls out completely before giving your ass a harsh slap. You fall onto the floor and cry out.

“No, what?!”

“No, daddy!”

He flips you over onto your back just so he can see your teary face and lips swollen from you biting them.

He licks his lips and goes back to sucking your breasts like he did before, only this time, his cock is passing against your silky walls.

You feel every ridge, every vein, every twitch.

Curse words leave your mouth as you are brought closer and closer to the edge.

He placed his hands on either side of your head and fucks into you from above while watching your breasts move with each thrust. His nails dig into your knees as he pushes them further apart, watching his long cock glide into your small opening like magic. The way you open up for him drives him crazy.

You’re so wet, he slips in and out with ease.

“Should I let you cum?”

“Yes, daddy, please.” You licked your lips and watched the handsome man above you. He had loosened a few buttons but his hair, now free and wavy, dangled over your face.

He takes your hard nipples in between his fingers and pinches them. You arch your back and moan.

This all felt so wrong but so right. Him fucking you hard and into the new year on the bathroom floor while your father was just down stairs a few feet away.

You came instantly, your body trembling as it clenched around him. Your eyes shut tightly, Hendery watched your jaw clenched and grabbed your chin.

“I didn’t tell you to cum, now I’ll have to go harder.” He growled out.

He fucked you hard, your back rubbing against the tile as he didn’t let up on his unforgiving thrusts.

“Too-too much, daddy.” You cried out as tears escaped your eyes again.

“That’s too fucking bad, you came without permission, so now you’re gonna take it,” he thrusted particularly hard with an emphasis on “take it.”

You moaned loudly and squirmed under him, but he held you still, his fingertips digging into your waist. You panted and cried as a burning feeling shot through your skin..

Hendery fucked you like some kind of animal with a crazy sex drive, placing your legs onto his shoulders and ripping some fabric from your expensive dress.

“Hendery! What the-“

“Shhh!! I want to see my cock fill you up, sweetheart. Want to see my little whore take all of me in.”

A smile creeped across his face.

You got up on your elbows and saw that his girthy penis really was poking through your stomach slightly.

“Fuck..so fucking good, daddy.”

Your hips started to hurt from your legs being open and spread out for so long, but Hendery didn’t care, you were all his tonight, and he was going to make sure you remembered that.

“Who were you walking home with after you left the art museum?”

Your brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Why would he bring up something from a few months ago?

“The guy..I saw him take you home..what’s his name?”

He rubs your clit, making you disoriented.

“I don't know Hendery, I went home by myself that night.”

“Oh, don’t fucking lie to me, whore.” He places his hand around your throat and squeezes it.

You clench uncontrollably as your clit feels amazing with his thumb on it.

Hendery cums as you tighten around him unexpectedly. You release as well, his hand tightens even more around your throat. You see stars and shake. Your body feels weak, but Hendery doesn’t pull out or let your throat go.

He leans downward and kisses your lips.

He looks wild and different, his eyes are more intense with a red glow around them that you hadn’t seen before. He has purple and green veins bursting out from his forehead and neck also.

He chokes you while staring into your eyes and as you come down from your high, you notice that something is wrong.

He pulls his limp member out but lets it lay on your stomach.

“Tell me his fucking name!”

Your eyes grow. “Who are you talking about?!” You manage to utter out while slowly losing breath.

He lays a sloppy kiss onto your lips again then pulls away. “Do you want to know what Ten’s last words were?”

You grasped his shoulders. “Hendery, this isn’t funny.”

“Oh, but it is, sweetheart..you should’ve seen the look of terror on his face when I held the knife above his head.”

Your mouth fell open, greeting Hendery’s as he laid another kiss. You struggled to push him off of you, so you bit his lip and crawled away from him.

Hendery kneeled on the ground and held his lip. A low chuckle escapes and it’s one that is horrifying.

“But baby, we were having so much fun, why did you do that?”

“Because you’re not funny! I’m leaving!” You stumble to your feet and fix your dress over your breasts.

You rush to the door but Hendery blocks it. You cower in fear. He doesn’t look like himself at all, he looks like some kind of monster with a wild look.

“Hendery? What’s wrong with you?”

“Hendery’s not here anymore.” The deep voice laughs out.

“Let me go.” You begin to tremble.

“Hendery had his fun, I think I deserve to have fun too.”

You were so confused as this monster takes Hendery over, but you quickly devise a plan.

You grab the soap dispenser behind you and quickly hit him in the head. He snarls out in pain but you have just enough time to push past him and out of the door.

You rush down the stairs and call out for help, but then you notice that the fireworks are going off. People are laughing and sharing drinks on the rooftop together.

You turn to head back up the stairs and to the rooftop to get help, but Hendery is already making his way down with an angry look on his face.

No one is in the mansion but you..and him.

You run out of the mansion as fast as you can, hoping that you can find anyone that could help you.

You felt pain in your hips from being stretched out but you ignored it. You were terrified as you heard him bolting after you with superhuman speed.

“Help!! Help me!!” You cried out but the streets were empty, everyone was celebrating the new year as beautiful and loud fireworks lit up the sky.

You continue to run and breathe heavily, you finally create a safe distance between yourself and him so you lean against the back of a wall and wait for him to pass.

He slows down when he no longer sees you..

“Sweetheart..it’s just me and you, now. Don’t worry about him!” Hendery’s normal voice calls out.

You tremble and cry in fear, but cover your mouth as he gets closer.

“What are you talking about? I’m still here, where is the little whore?” A darker voice says.

“She’s smart, we won’t find her.” The first voice says.

You’re confused, it’s as if two people are talking to each other, but it’s just Hendery.

“I can smell her..” the darker voice says.

“No!! No!! Leave her alone!” Hendery fights himself in the street alone, he goes crazy while yelling and throwing himself around.

“But she’s mine!”

“Mr. Hyde..please just leave me alone..” Hendery falls to his knees and sobs in the middle of the street.

“I live inside you forever, Hendery, with Satan himself by my side.”

“No!!”

And then you only hear silence.

You peak out to see if he has left but to your surprise. He’s right there beside you, his crazy eyes glaring as he smiles.

“Found ya!”

You scream and run away and into the yard of a random house, you stumble into the shed and look around for anything you can use to protect yourself.

A bat.

You take the bat and walk around the yard.

You see Hendery walking around the house. You take in a sharp breath then run up to him fast and swing as hard as you can.

His body falls to floor limply.

You drop the bat and cover your mouth, screaming once more as you look on the body of your strange lover.

———-

[1 Month Later]

You’re starting the spring semester at college, physically. You and your father both agreed that after what happened, it would be best for you to spend some time away.

You told your father about what had happened that night the next day. He told you that Hendery had threatened him and you both came to the conclusion that Hendery was suffering from some sort of psychological disorder. One that would allow him to kidnap and murder people.

Some missing people were found in the lab’s crematory room, but evidence showed that most victims were cremated. This amount of cremation filled the air with harmful toxins, the very same toxins that Hendery’s lab was responsible for getting rid of.

It was ironic, but now your father was happy that the killer was identified.

People no longer went missing.

All cases were closed.

Except for one, however.

Hendery’s body was never found.

535 notes · View notes

warmau · 4 years

Text

the door opens as soon as the hand on the clock that hangs right above the line of freezers at the back of the store strikes eight

through it walks yangyang

grey hoodie pulled over his messy hair, stuck to the skin of his forehead with slowly evaporating sweat

he’s dribbling a basketball as he walks down the aisles and you pretend to rearrange the candy display in front of the register

but you’re watching

the sound of the basketball thumps through the otherwise empty corner store

outside, the sun is waving its last goodbye before the moon takes it spot in the sky

and then yangyang rounds his way back to you - placing some loose change down and waving the already unwrapped melon pop he’s picked out

you count the coins, and he’s ten cents short, but you don’t say anything about that

he turns, basketball now tucked under his arm

and leaves without a thank you or a goodbye

you know him - and you’re sure he knows you too - but it has been the same silent routine since summer started two weeks ago

the reason - and it could just be your suspicion - but no other fact has reared its head as creditable

has to do with dong sicheng

yangyang’s upperclassman, friend, and your ex-boyfriend

you lean forward a little and huff, not even really my ex-boyfriend. we fooled around all of last semester and then-

you feel something weird curl up inside your stomach

sicheng had called it off

you remember what he had said to you;

“maybe if you weren’t always looking at -”

the door opens again and your eyes barely shift to see who it is now

only to see yangyang again, melon pop abandoned, grey hoodie abandoned, basketball abandoned

he buffers a bit before walking right up to the register

you straighten up and feel like the little store has only gotten tighter

he slaps the ten cents he was short down on the counter and you blink

“i owe you this.”

“oh thanks.”

“sicheng isn’t here for the summer. he went abroad.”

you blink, and your instinct is to say - why would i care? - but you just nod slowly

yangyang steps back a little. he’s still got remnants of sweat on him from the summer heat, his hands tucked deep in his pockets

“did you like him?”

“no”

you answer a little too fast for comfort, but there just isn’t enough time to stop yourself from spilling the truth. something you’ve wanted to say for a while.

yangyang is looking at the floor, or maybe the candy, who knows - but he looks up after that.

“he said you were always -”

“looking at you. i know.”

yangyang seems to catch his breath, or maybe he just looks like he’s being suffocated, but either way he points to the sign on the door

“you close in an hour right?”

“yes”

“ill be here. we can - ill be waiting for you.”

even with the streetlights flickering, the night hovering into complete darkness, the heat makes everything feel vibrant and hot

or maybe you just feel all this pressure, finally being alone with yangyang

you’ve changed, you’ve attempted to comb your hair, you’re holding the half finished bottle of gatorade that is acting like some kind of pseudo-anchor as you wait to hear what it is yangyang will say

does he know? did he notice? or did sicheng just tell him for the hell of it that ive always actually liked him?

“i was looking too, that’s why i was so confused.”

he kicks the curb a little and avoids your gaze

“why you chose him - why you were sneaking around and doing all of that with him when i was-”

he throws his hands up in frustration

“when i was there too!”

“i just didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“you think i didnt like you back?”

you cross your hands and nod

“yeah, you never did anything to make me think you -”

“neither did you, you actually did the opposite, hooking up with one of my closest friends-”

“hey!”

you don’t want to raise your voice, but it makes yangyang look at you. really look at you.

“is it a crime to want to be desired? i couldnt get the feeling from you and sicheng just kissed me one day and it felt-”

yangyang steps closer, both hands reaching for your shoulders as if he’s about to pull you in close to him

but just as his fingers graze your skin, you can feel the tension stiffen him into stone

you flatline your voice and stare, “yangyang if you’re going to kiss me then just do it”

he opens his mouth in protest, at least that’s what he intentions, when in the next second

it’s you, dropping the gatorade in your hand, and just tugging him in for it first

he doesn’t kiss with the overwhelming confidence he can saunter around with when he’s with his friends, but he is enthusiastic

it kind of shocks you when after just a soft peck on the lips turns into yangyang wrapping you in almost squeezing hug

he kisses as if he’s trying to make up for something

you chalk it up to the time you’ve both waisted tip-toeing around each others feelings

and when you pull away from him, you realize he’s nearly dragged you off the curb and into the sidewalk with him and you’re like

“let’s get out of the street before we get hit by a car.”

he grins, the brightest light even in the darkness

“wait- just one thing though.”

his hands don’t let go from being wrapped around your waist, his bare skin sticking to the fabric of your shirt. how many degrees is it out? at least eighty something.

“what?”

“do i kiss better than sicheng-”

you yank him back onto the sidewalk and roll your eyes in response, yangyang just leans down to laugh into your neck

you’ve still got to work at the shop all summer, but now yangyang doesn’t just stop by at just eight

he’s there as much as possible

sitting on boxes of soda and chips - hand on your leg as you two watch the array of interesting neighbors and customers that pass their way through

there’s a nice old couple that beams at you and yangyang, talking about how much you two remind them of themselves

there’s a social recluse that scurries up and down the aisles even though he always buys the same two things every time he’s in here. yangyang theorizes he’s a spy or something and you’re like im pretty sure he works for an IT company

there are giggling groups of middle schoolers enjoying the summer, there are teenagers who spend more time kissing in the corners rather than buying anything, there are adults rushing to and from work

sometimes yangyang’s friends stop by, the ones he plays basketball with, and they wolf whistle and wink and push him when they think you’re not looking

but now kun - who apologizes to you every time for their CHILDISH behavior

the summer that you thought would be dragging slowly because of this dumb job, has become something like a rainbow.

colorful, eventful, and beautiful

especially when you’re sitting up on the register counter and yangyang is leaning up to kiss you

lips cold from the ice-cream you both just shared

he’s gotten better at kissing, and at hand-holding, and staring at you like you’re the entire earth and more

he leaves for a couple of hours to go play basketball - and one evening you close the shop early to go watch him

he looks so different from the yangyang that makes bad jokes, the yangyang who chases the local stray cat around your store, the yangyang who is still a little too shy about coming over to your house when you’re both alone, the yangyang who fell out of a tree trying to get a stuck balloon untangled for a crying toddler

he looks serious and focused - he looks more mature

when the set ends he jogs over, lifting his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his face and you realize you’re also still a little shy, averting your eyes to the side

he doesn’t notice, if he did - you would not hear the end of it - as he leans forward to kiss your nose

you pull back and tell him ew- he’s so sweaty and smelly - but he just pouts and says thats never bothered you before!

“yeah, it’s never bothered you before so you guys should just make out-”

hendery’s voice echoes from somewhere before you presume kun puts a stop to that

yangyang raises an eyebrow

and you give in - leaning in to press your lips to him

“salty?” he asks when he pulls away, “very!”, you laugh and yangyang joins in

“oh sicheng you’re back?”

the sentence drowns you and yangyang’s momentary bliss

you don’t want to turn around and see if it’s really him - but yangyang leans away from you so you stand up too

“how was your trip?” it’s kun’s voice - followed by yukhei who exclaims that he’s missed him so much!

sicheng answers them, looking over his shoulder at you and yangyang

the sounds of the park all wash out - you don’t feel anything romantic toward sicheng, but this is still awkward and you’re more than anything worried about-

“yangyang - can i be on your team?”

sicheng is referring to the next game and you want to say something to yangyang about how it’s really all over, like it didn’t ever even mean anything

but then sicheng looks at you

“can i steal your boyfriend away for a bit?”

the playful banter sizzles the tension down and you feel yourself relax, and yangyang does too

“sure bro, but you better have gotten good during your trip - your freethrows always suck!”

sicheng laughs and you do too, kissing yangyang’s cheek before he goes back to join his friends

when it gets too dark to play anymore and everyone’s exhausted - yangyang and you part from the group

hendery tries to yell something about kids being safe, kun drags him away by the ear, xiaojun, yukhei and ten echo the sentiment anyway and sicheng says;

“im happy for you guys.”

you feel yangyang squeeze your hand in his - when it’s just you and him left

you shiver a little because summer is ending and falls kiss is sweeping in

yangyang shrugs off the grey hoodie he’s always wearing and you slip it on before taking his hand in yours again

“was it weird seeing sicheng again?”

“not really - i mean it’s just sicheng.”

you stop walking and yangyang does too

“he’s your friend and he’s just my friend. seriously. yangyang i want you to know that.”

he smiles softly, not the big toothy grin you’re used to, and tugs you a little into him

“i know that.”

he kisses your hair and then laughs

“if it was me, you would have jumped right into my arm-”

“yangyang!”

you give him a look and he swears he’s joking, he promises

but he’s also right

years later - as you’re standing in the airport looking up at the switchboard of flights

you light up when you see that the plane from taiwan is landing

you rush to the gate and wave as soon as you sicheng

he waves back, and so does kun and ten and everyone

and holding up the end is yangyang who abandons his luggage, to come barreling toward you

you can’t hold it too, it’s been all summer that he and the rest of them have been gone

and it’s been so boring without him, and so lonely, so when he opens his arms

you do jump right into them - getting attacked in a whirlwind of kisses

the rest of the group catches up to you two and from somewhere you can hear kun mutter

“they’re acting like kids”

but sicheng defends you two

“let them, they’ve been looking at each other since then.”

when yangyang finally decides to let you go, he adds:

“yep, and we haven’t stopped since.”

#i started this listening to still woozy and then ended it by listening to jbalvin thats how my night was going #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #yangyang scenarios #nct au #wayv au #yangyang au #member: yangyang #sfw #yangyang #wayv #nct

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longitudinalwaveme · 3 years

Text

Arkham Sessions: Captain Cold

These vignettes, and, more specifically, the characterization of Dr. Hugo Strange, are based on the wonderful Arkham Files YouTube videos produced by Mr. Rogues.

Here's his channel:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCyxNOHiNclZlVpeRhYV2QRQ

Since I am a huge Flash nerd, I decided to use this idea as a jumping-off point to explore how the Rogues would respond to therapy sessions. Again, all credit to the basic format goes to Mr. Rogues.

Not everything Dr. Strange says should be taken as truth; his bias against costumed vigilantes affects most of his interviews with the patients.

Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Leonard Snart, also known as Captain Cold. The patient displays a number of antisocial tendencies, but no formal diagnosis has ever been given to him, and since he arrived at Arkham only a few days ago, I have not had the time to give him a complete psychological examination. Session One. Good day, Mr. Snart.

Capt. Cold: Len.

Hugo Strange: Pardon?

Capt. Cold: Just call me Len, Doc. I ain’t the type to stand on formalities.

Hugo Strange: Very well, then. (Pause) So, Leonard-

Capt. Cold: Not Leonard, Len.

Hugo Strange: I take it you’re not especially fond of your given name?

Capt. Cold: Believe me, Doc, if your name was ‘Leonard Snart’, you wouldn’t be fond of it, either.

Hugo Strange: Fair enough. So, Len, what exactly influenced you to put on a parka and go running around robbing banks and jewelry stores with a freeze ray?

Capt. Cold: It ain’t a freeze ray, it’s a cold gun.

Hugo Strange: Besides semantics, what is the difference?

Capt. Cold: Mr. Freeze-you got him locked up somewhere in this loony bin, right?- has a freeze ray. It shoots ice. Me? I’ve got a cold gun. My gun negates thermal motion. Stops protons and electrons dead in their tracks. People too. Even the Flash slows to a crawl when I hit him with it.

Hugo Strange: (Surprised; a bit skeptical) Do you mean to say that you have invented a weapon that can create temperatures of absolute zero?

Capt. Cold: Yep. And I did it years before that lovesick freak got turned into a popsicle man.

Hugo Strange: Your records indicate that you dropped out of high school at the age of fourteen, Len. How could you possibly have the requisite knowledge to create such a weapon? Are you even familiar with James Prescott Joule or J.J. Thomson?

Capt. Cold: Who?

Hugo Strange: J. J. Thomson is the man who discovered the electron. James Prescott Joule is the scientist who discovered the First Law of Thermodynamics. If what you’re saying is true, you managed to exceed the wildest dreams of either of these illustrious men, without even knowing of them or their theories.

Capt. Cold: Huh. Guess I did. Well, how about that?

Hugo Strange: How could you possibly have managed this, Len?

Capt. Cold: Just ‘cause I’m trailer trash don’t mean I’m stupid, Doc.

Hugo Strange: Clearly not. So, how did you do it?

Capt. Cold: Sorry, Doc. Trade secret.

Hugo Strange: Len, we gave you a number of psychological and intelligence tests upon your admittance to Arkham Asylum, and-

Capt. Cold: (Cutting him off) About that-what’m I doin’ in this loony bin, anyhow? I ain’t crazy, and even if I were, I’m from Central City. That’s a thousand miles away from Gotham.

Hugo Strange: A few weeks ago, Iron Heights Penitentiary’s southwestern wall was destroyed in a mysterious accident. As a result, it is currently incapable of holding supercriminals, metahuman or otherwise, and you and your cohorts had to be housed somewhere. Through a series of political and judicial decisions that I confess make as little sense to me as they probably do to you, all of you so-called “Rogues” were transferred to Arkham Asylum until such time as Iron Heights is properly rebuilt.

Capt. Cold: I get havin’ to send us someplace else if Iron Heights is destroyed, but...I ain’t insane. Why not send me to Blackgate instead of the loony bin?

Hugo Strange: Many people are of the opinion that anyone who puts on a silly costume in order to commit crimes is insane by definition, Len.

Capt. Cold: That include you, Doc?

Hugo Strange: Whether or not you are insane in the legal sense of the term is not for me to decide, Len. That being said, I do believe that your decision to commit crimes in such a...theatrical...manner indicates some level of emotional disturbance.

Capt. Cold: Hey, Doc, you’re the expert on this stuff, not me.

Hugo Strange: In that case, why don’t we return to the subject of your astonishing invention?

Capt. Cold: I’m stuck in the loony bin anyway. Might as well.

Hugo Strange: Can you please refrain from describing this facility as a “loony bin”, Len? The term is pejorative, both for the staff who work here and the other patients who live here.

Capt. Cold: Pejorative? What’s that mean, Doc?

Hugo Strange: It means that it is rude. Describing the mentally ill as “lunatics” is unkind and unscientific.

Capt. Cold: Whatever you say, Doc. Whatever you say.

Hugo Strange: (Coughs) As I was saying, when you arrived at the asylum, we gave you a number of psychological and intelligence tests. While your scores in the area of mathematics were unusually high, especially for someone who never finished high school, your literacy scores were abysmal. You are thirty-eight years old, but you read at the level of the average six-year-old.

Capt. Cold: Well, we can’t all have your fancy education, Doc. What’s my reading ability got to do with my cold gun?

Hugo Strange: I find it difficult to believe that a high school dropout-a high school dropout, moreover, who can barely read-would be able to invent a gun that can produce absolute zero on his own.

Capt. Cold: Are you callin’ me a liar?

Hugo Strange: Not necessarily, Len. What I am saying is that I do not believe that the Cold Gun was created in the way that you may believe that it was.

Capt. Cold: Oh, so you ain’t callin’ me a liar-you’re callin’ me crazy.

Hugo Strange: I did not say that either, Len.

Capt. Cold: You didn’t have to, Doc. I may be a redneck high-school dropout, but I ain’t survived as long as I have by not knowin’ when people are bad-mouthin’ me.

Hugo Strange: Len, I am not bad-mouthing you. I am trying to help you.

Capt. Cold: Sure you are.

Hugo Strange: (Frustrated) Not everyone is looking to take advantage of you, Mr. Snart!

Capt. Cold: Funny. Hasn’t been my experience, Doc. (Pause) Look. I ain’t mad, Doc. If I had a buck for every time somebody called me trailer trash or a dumb thug or a stupid hick, I wouldn’t need to rob no more banks. You ain’t said nothin’ I haven’t heard a million times before. But I want you to know this: I invented my cold gun, and I did it by myself. I. Ain’t. Stupid.

Hugo Strange: (Looking to change the subject) Len, I never said that you were unintelligent. In fact, your criminal history makes it quite clear that you are an effective, pragmatic operative. An unintelligent man could never have organized the only successful costumed criminal combine in the nation. Every other group of costumed criminals has folded within a few months at most, usually due to interpersonal tensions, but you have somehow managed to keep your little group together for over a decade. What is it you call yourselves, again?

Capt. Cold: The Rogues.

Hugo Strange: That’s right. The Rogues. Now tell me, Len, what exactly is the secret to your group’s...ah...success?

Capt. Cold: (Amused) You plannin’ to start a costumed gang, Doc?

Hugo Strange: Certainly not. I am simply curious. It isn’t often that I get the opportunity to interview criminals from outside of Gotham’s borders.

Capt. Cold: It ain’t that complicated, Doc. The reason we’ve held together for so long is ‘cause we got an unspoken code. We watch one another’s backs to the end. Nobody gets left behind; everybody gets an equal share.

Hugo Strange: (Surprised) Are you implying that you are...friends...with your Rogues?

Capt. Cold: You think I’d trust people I hate to watch my back?

Hugo Strange: Admittedly, that wouldn’t make much sense...it’s just that I was under the impression that you were the leader of the group.

Capt. Cold: I am.

Hugo Strange: Most gang bosses I know keep the majority of the profits from their crimes for themselves.Why don’t you?

Capt. Cold: ‘Cause we’re a team. We do equal work; we get equal rewards.

Hugo Strange: A surprisingly admirable sentiment for a common thief.

Capt. Cold: (Proudly) There ain’t nothin’ common about me, Doc.

Hugo Strange: (Sigh) That’s certainly true, Len. (Pause) On the subject of things that are not common, why the parka and the silly goggles?

Capt. Cold: Practicality. Parka keeps me warm; goggles help focus my vision and keep me from bein’ blinded by the flare of my own cold gun.

Hugo Strange: I see. (Pause) And why call yourself “Captain Cold”? After all, you aren’t really a Captain of anything.

Capt. Cold: I’ll admit, it ain’t the most creative name in the world...but anything’s better than “Leonard Snart”.

Hugo Strange: Why not just change your name, then? Why take up a ridiculous costumed alias?

Capt. Cold: Because I’m not just an ordinary thug. Leonard Snart is ordinary; boring…..but Captain Cold? Captain Cold is cool.

Hugo Strange: Was that a...pun?

Capt. Cold: What can I say? I admit they’re dumb, but old habits die hard.

Hugo Strange: And the Flash had nothing to do with your decision to put on a costume and call yourself by a silly, alliterative name while committing crimes?

Capt. Cold: The Flash? Why would he have anything to do with it?

Hugo Strange: I was under the impression that the Flash was your arch-enemy.

Capt. Cold: (Laughs) Arch-enemy? What is this, a Saturday morning TV show?

Hugo Strange: The Central City papers make quite a big deal of your rivalry with the so-called “Scarlet Speedster”.

Capt. Cold: Look, the Flash is basically a cop. Sure, he’s a cop with superpowers, and he’s good for sharpening our wits, but at the end of the day, he’s just an obstacle to our getting the score.

Hugo Strange: Then you don’t view your battles with him as some epic confrontation between ideologies?

Capt. Cold: Why would I do that? Ideologies don’t pay the grocery bills, Doc.

Hugo Strange: And you haven’t dedicated your life to proving your superiority over him once and for all?

Capt. Cold: No. I fight the Flash for the same reasons I fight the cops: I want to get rich, and he’s standing in my way. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.

Hugo Strange: So the Flash is nothing special to you?

Capt. Cold: I didn’t say that. Like I said, he’s good for sharpening the wits. I wouldn’t be half as successful as I am if he weren’t around to keep me and the guys on our toes, and yeah, it’d be neat to finally get the victory over him once and for all...but really, he ain’t so different from us. He’s just another guy workin’ a nine-to-five, tryin’ to provide for his family. I don’t like him-he’s a stuck-up, self-righteous prig sometimes-but he’s a good person. He’s not a superhero ‘cause he wants hero-worship. He actually wants to help people. He’s even helped me, and I make a career out of trying to freeze-dry him. You gotta respect a guy like that.

Hugo Strange: You actually see the Flash as a man?

Capt. Cold: What else would I see him as? A Martian? ‘Cause I’ve seen Martians, and I can tell you, the Flash ain’t green enough to be one.

Hugo Strange: It’s not that. It’s just that I’ve spent so much time with the patients who view Bruce Wayne, formerly the Batman, as some sort of supernatural entity or as a grand opposite in a never-ending conflict between order and chaos that it’s rather...odd to listen to a costumed criminal who claims to view their local costumed vigilante simply as a person.

Capt. Cold: Man, you have got to get out more.

Hugo Strange: (Coldly) I don’t recall requesting life advice from you, Mr. Snart.

Capt. Cold: Well, you should take it anyway. Ain’t often I give stuff away for free.

Hugo Strange: (Annoyed) This session is not about me, Mr. Snart. It’s about you.

Capt. Cold: What else do you wanna talk about? I’m not stupid, I’m not creepily obsessed with the Flash, I don’t butcher people for fun, and I don’t have any weird hang-ups about dead relatives or riddles or plants or dolls or jokes or the number two. I’m not a good guy, but I think I’m a pretty normal guy, all things considered.

Hugo Strange: Mr. Snart, no one puts on a costume without some sort of psychological disturbance. Even if the Flash was not in some way responsible for your decision-something which I am not yet fully convinced of-no rational human being would do such a thing. I just need to find out what your disturbance is. (Pause) Perhaps it began in your childhood, Mr. Snart?

Capt. Cold: (Icily) My childhood is none of your business.

Hugo Strange: I am your psychologist, Mr. Snart. That makes it my business. (Pause) Let’s see. Your file says that you were born to Lawrence Snart, a forty-year-old police officer who was kicked off the force for public drunkenness and suspected corruption, and Shirley Snart, a fifteen-year-old high school dropout. You and your family lived in a dilapidated trailer park, and your father was a known alcoholic who drank away your family’s welfare money. Five years after you came along, your younger sister, Lisa, was born...and your mother ran away, never to be seen again. The neighbors called the police because of domestic disputes between her and your father no less than thirteen times in five years, which leads me to suspect that she was spurred to leave the family because of her husband’s abuse. You were left to raise your sister, essentially on your own, at five years old, and you were effectively the head of the household from that point on. You never had a childhood, Mr. Snart.

Capt. Cold: Don’t you talk about my sister!

Hugo Strange: I take it that you’re close to her? Understandable, I suppose, given that you grew up with her in an abusive household. Your grandfather, who drove an ice cream truck, did his best to protect you and your sister from your father’s cruelty, but he was old and in poor health, and he died when you were only twelve years old. You never got over the loss, and your father’s abuse only got worse as you and your sister got older. When you turned 14, you dropped out of high school; you then worked a number of odd jobs to support yourself and your sister. However, shortly after you turned 18, you and your father got into a dreadful argument, one that ended with you running away from home and leaving your little sister alone with your father. After that, you eventually fell into a life of petty crime.

Capt. Cold: I...I had no choice. If I hadn’t left, he would’ve killed me!

Hugo Strange: I am not blaming you for choosing to run away, Mr. Snart. You were an abused child with very few options available to you.

Capt. Cold: (Quietly) I could’ve taken her with me.

Hugo Strange: And why didn’t you?

Capt. Cold: ‘Cause I was an 18-year-old dropout. Nobody was gonna give me custody of my sister...and besides, I’d started hangin’ out with dangerous people. I...I didn’t want her to get hurt.

Hugo Strange: In other words, she would have been in danger no matter what you had done.

Capt. Cold: It don’t matter! I’m her big brother! I was supposed to protect her!

Hugo Strange: (Coming to a realization) And because you weren’t able to protect her from your father as a boy, you’re trying to make up for it now by becoming this “Captain Cold”; a larger-than-life persona that can do all the things you weren’t able to do as a child. You’ve made yourself too powerful and dangerous for anyone to threaten, and you’ve made a surrogate family for yourself and your sister. That’s why the Rogues are so successful...it’s because they aren’t really a gang at all. They’re your family. Isn’t that right, Mr. Snart?

Capt. Cold: (Sarcastically) An’ I suppose the fact that my grandpa drove an ice cream truck somehow subconsciously influenced my decision to become Captain Cold?

Hugo Strange: (Aware of the sarcasm, but ignoring it) That’s perhaps a bit of a stretch, but it isn’t impossible.

Capt. Cold: I don’t believe this….

Hugo Strange: Don’t be afraid, Mr. Snart. Admitting you have a problem is difficult, but it’s also the first step on the road to recovery.

#flash rogues #dr. hugo strange #flash comics #batman comics #fanfic #captain cold

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ssa-babygirl · 4 years

Text

Out of My League [Part 1]

Pairing: High school!Spencer Reid x Popular!Reader

Word count: 3.7k (god i don’t shut up do i)

Summary: Spencer begins tutoring you in chemistry, and the two of you bond (I would say no pun intended but fuck it that was GOOD so I’ll say pun intended)

Warning(s): Mentions of bullying, mental illness, some swearing, I made one joke about herpes??? sorry if thats a sore spot with anyone, light angst and pining, Reader POV

Author’s Note: Here it is, folks!! The first official part! I’ so grateful for all the feedback I got on the prologue, I’m glad y’all are liking it, I hope you like this part just as much!! Next part I’m gonna have some baby spencer, and by that I mean whole ass adult spencer that just looks baby

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

You absolutely despised chemistry. It’s boring. It’s simultaneously stupid and ridiculously complicated. You weren’t dumb, you were a decent student in all your other classes, but science was never your strong suit. You preferred literature over litmus paper any day. Unfortunately, your failing grade was bringing down your entire GPA, just below the requirement for you to stay on the cheerleading squad. Your coach recommended you get a tutor, or else you were off the team. So you went to the library to see the peer tutoring program, and all of them were booked. The next best thing would be the kid genius in your class. He was probably a better first choice, honestly, but you figured he’d be booked with other students too.

He wasn’t like other kids in your class, not just because he actually cared and was a good student, he was also twelve years old. The kid was a prodigy. He was bullied a lot because of this because no one really understood him. That’s probably why he looked so terrified when you approached him after class one day.

“Hey, Spencer!”

His eyes grew wide as he stared back at you, saying nothing.

“I was just wondering if you were available for tutoring?”

“Oh, uh, um, y-yeah, in chemistry?”

“Yeah, what are your rates like? Like say we do an hour every other day, how much would that be?”

“Oh! N-no charge.”

“Really?”

“The first couple of sessions can be a trial run, I don’t want your money if you’re not benefiting from it.”

That made you smile, this kid was so nice and you just wished that people actually cared about that instead of the dumb shit they bullied him for. Sure, he was skinny and short and dorky and you know, a literal twelve-year-old boy, but if someone would take time to know him, they’d see he’s a good kid.

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t wanna waste your time if you have other students.”

“I don’t, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Great! Are you free after school today?”

He nodded and avoided all eye contact before scurrying out of the room to his next class.

~~~

You met up later in the library. You greeted each other politely with simple hi’s and hey’s and nothing more. Then it was time to pour over your books for an hour and try to force the puzzle pieces into place and hope something finally clicked. Balancing molecular equations physically hurt. Just when you thought you got it all right, Spencer reminded you that you still had to balance the oxygen, which was always bonded with something else, which threw off the whole equation. Every time you made a mistake you just let out a groan and set your head on the table.

“It’s a lot of math, a lot of people have a hard time with it, don’t feel bad.”

“I’m so fucking stupid.”

“You’re not! It’s an easy mistake.”

“You don’t make mistakes like that.”

“That’s because I’ve been taking advanced math classes for the past two years, I’m good at this stuff.”

“You’re good at everything, you're a literal genius.”

“There are people who aren’t geniuses who are good at this sort of thing, just look at Johnny Abrams in our class. He answers every question Mrs. Gustin asks and I once saw him put his backpack on his car’s roof and start driving ‘cuz he forgot it was there. He’s just been practicing. That’s why we’re here, right?”

He always reassured you. Always told you that you weren’t stupid. You weren’t dumb. He always smiled when you got questions right and told you you were doing a good job. When your hour was up, you said goodbye and went home.

Spencer’s mini lectures aside, most of your sessions were sparse in the conversation department. The first time he went off on a side about some chemistry facts, you couldn’t keep up. You just sat there, jaw hanging while he went into detail about saponification, which wasn’t even in this lesson.

“Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Did we learn that in class? Cuz if we did, I’m screwed.”

“No, not yet at least.”

“How do you just… know that?”

Spencer avoided your eyes once again, something he did more than spouting random facts, “I read a lot.”

That’s how it happened the first time. All it took was you asking one question about different types of reactions for him to launch into another spiel. You figured you’d have to know it at some point, so you started writing down whatever you could catch from his fast-paced speech, taking notes in bullet points.

“And that-- Oh. Y-You don’t need to do that, that’s not even on the curriculum.”

“Well, I gotta keep up with you somehow, right?” You glanced up from your page and flashed an almost challenging smirk as you saw him stifle a smile as he avoided all eye contact with you, as per usual. He then cleared his throat and got back to the actually assigned chapter.

The more he went off on tangents, the more he realized you weren’t stopping him. He was actually able to make chemistry sound interesting to you, which is strange, but it was easier to understand through how he explained it all. Something told you that he wasn’t used to having someone listen to what he said, because he just lit up when he talked about this stuff. He was clearly passionate about it, so why would you make him feel bad about it? He always apologized, but you always reassured him it was no big deal.

You didn’t know it at the time, but the kid was falling hard. This pretty, older girl was paying attention to him and didn’t think he was annoying? The bar may have been on the floor for young Spencer, but you were perfect to him. Eventually, he was able to look you in the eyes when you spoke to one another, he even smiled at you when you joked with him. That was another thing: you joked with one another now. You both warmed up to one another as your sessions continued. You said hi to each other in the hallways, you ruffled his hair as a greeting, he accepted your high-five requests every time you got something right.

You still didn’t talk outside of class much, which is why he was caught so far off guard by you calling his name from across the cafeteria as you approached his table.

“Hey, dude! Is it cool if we squeeze in an extra session today? I got a test tomorrow.”

“Y-Yeah, no problem, but, uh, it’s Thursday. Don’t you have practice after school?”

You did. And you had to be there because you had a competition this weekend.

“Yeah, I was wondering if we could meet after?”

“When does it end?”

“Five.”

“Library closes at four.”

“I know, but would it be too much of a hassle if I just… Pick you up tonight and we head back to my house to study?”

You could physically see his brain shut down in his eyes. After he realized he needed to respond, he picked his jaw up off the floor and gulped hard.

“Or you can stay after and hang out at practice and I can just drive you home?”

“Y-Yeah, um, yeah, tha-that works, I can, uh, yeah, we can do that.”

Spencer brought his books and homework and tried his hardest to not make it obvious he was staring at you while you danced. You looked like you were having so much fun and he loved seeing you happy and smiling with your friends like that, it was hard for him to look away and focus long enough to read a sentence, which is saying something, considering it does not take him long to read a sentence.

After practice wrapped up, you told him to go wait by your car while you changed out of your uniform. The girls in the locker room were talking just as loudly as always, only this time, it was about something you actually cared about hearing.

“I mean, really, what was that little creep doing watching us today?” You heard one girl sneer.

“So fucking gross, I don’t wanna know where his prepubescent head was.” Another girl laughed.

You had to step in. You had to say something.

“I’m his ride home. He’s my chemistry tutor and I have a test tomorrow, so back off the kid, he didn’t do shit to you anyway.”

The squad learned to watch their mouths around you after that.

~~~

The neon glow of the golden arches shone through your car’s windows as you pulled into the McDonald’s drive-thru line.

“This isn’t your house,” noted Spencer, sounding confused.

You grinned, “Oh, shit… no way! Wow! I’m so glad my tutor is a genius! I would have never guessed this was not my family home!”

He let himself laugh for a moment, “Okay, okay, fine. Why are we here?”

“Uh… to get food? Duh.”

“But what about your food at home?”

“My mom’s visiting my dad, he works in D.C., and I haven’t gotten a chance to go grocery shopping this week, so I can’t cook for you. What do you want?”

“You don’t have to get me anything.”

“No, I insist, it’s almost dinner time. Lemme get you something. As a thank you for squeezing in an extra cramming sesh?”

“It’s fine! Really.”

“Hey, Reid, come on,” you attempt to stifle a stupid giggle as you gesture to the rather large window displaying the playroom inside, “you are a guest in my home!”

Spencer shakes his head and chuckles, but doesn’t dare let you think he found you funny, “I’ll have chicken nuggets.”

“Happy meal?”

He tried to look offended at your clarification, but he quickly dropped the facade, “Yes. Extra fries, please.”

“Of course, buddy.” You pulled up further to the ordering station, catching a glimpse at the menu and the ads they had displayed on it, “Oh no way! They have Strawberry Shortcake toys! I used to collect those when I was a kid!”

Spencer saw the look on your face and couldn’t help but smile at your childlike excitement, “Do you want my happy meal toy?”

You bit your lip and hesitated before throwing all shame to the wind and saying yes. Because it was Spencer. He got excited over chemistry, he had no right to judge you on your old Strawberry Shortcake doll collection.

After you got your food, you drove back to your house, and you ate together at your kitchen island while Spencer quizzed you on the last chapter. He had asked you eighteen questions so far, and you had answered all of them correctly.

“Okay, this last one is for the Strawberry Shortcake--”

“Her name is Orange Blossom.”

“Whatever, this last one is for the Orange Blossom toy: Which type of reaction is represented by this equation?” He showed you his notebook where he had written a molecular equation.

“Substitution.”

“Correct! Now balance it.”

Your shoulders slouched as the pride drained from your body.

“Please don’t make me.”

“This is going to be on the test, Y/N, you have to know it.”

“What’s one wrong question, really?”

“You and I both know she’s not going to put just one balancing question on the test.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, grabbing a pencil and sliding his notebook closer to you. You worked it out after a few minutes, but everything looked right, and judging by Spencer’s proud grin, everything was.

He reached for the figurine, still in the plastic bag, and handed it to you, “You’re gonna do great tomorrow, Y/N.”

You took Orange Blossom from his hands and danced around the kitchen with it, overwhelmed with the sudden feeling of confidence you gained from nailing this practice session. You heard Spencer’s small laugh from behind you, causing you to turn around and face the boy as he lovingly mocked you.

Studying at your place became a regular thing after that, even when your mom was home. She loved him. She always invited him for dinner if she was home. He rarely took her up on the offer, but it was nice having him around the house with you. Study sessions turned into just plain hanging out. You spent more time bonding over Doctor Who than chemistry some nights, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~

When Alexa Lisben invited him to meet her at the football field you were skeptical. You had good reason to be. She was never very nice to you or Spencer. You were able to be civil with her for the sake of the cheerleading squad, but something about her just didn’t sit right with you. You tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen. He seemed offended at the notion that Alexa would do something horrible to him. How dare you imply that the only reason someone would be interested in him would be to pull a fucked up prank?

“I’m not like you, Y/N, I don’t have a line of people waiting around for a date, no one’s ever had a crush on me before, and-and now that someone other than you is being nice to me, you’re telling me that they have some sort of ulterior motive?”

“Spencer. I know these girls, I’ve seen the guys they go for--”

“And I’m not like them?”

“No! You’re a sweet kid, you’re nothing like those guys and they’re gonna take advantage of that.”

“I really wish everyone would stop saying I’m just a kid!”

“You’re not! That came out wrong--”

“Listen, Y/N, I’m going whether you want me to or not, so if you really want to keep babying me, by all means, stay after and wait with me.”

“I don’t wanna baby you!”

“So stop it!”

You didn’t want to fight with him anymore, you weren’t his mother. “Ok, Spencer, fine. I’m sorry. You should go. How about you meet me in the library after and you can tell me all about it over McDonald’s? My treat.”

He warmed up and agreed.

So you waited in the library until four, and then you started to get worried. You went to grab something from your gym locker before you left to look for him and heard some girls from the squad gossiping about “the little dork.” Your blood started to boil as you heard the way they talked about Spencer. Your jaw only clenched harder as you recognized one of the girls’ voices as Alexa Lisben’s.

You poked your head around the lockers that divided the aisles and tried to manage a calm voice, “Hey Alexa? Spencer actually said he was meeting up with you today, do you know where he is?”

She just laughed and said, “I can’t believe you actually care about that loser.”

“He’s my friend.” All attempts to remain level-headed were tossed aside, “Where the fuck is he, what did you do to him?”

You could feel yourself starting to cry. It’s your fault, you weren’t there, you tried to warn him, but now you don’t know where he is or what he’s thinking or--

“Check the field.”

You sprinted out to the football field and saw him stripped down to his briefs, blindfolded, and tied to a goal post. You could kill Alexa. You actually considered turning right around and unleashing hell on that locker room, but your friend needed help. He was crying so hard he didn’t hear you coming until you called his name. You immediately went to untie him and grab his clothes from the fence beside him.

“You were right.” He sniffled, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, I’m sorry, I should have been there, I could have helped you--”

“No, you couldn’t. There were too many people.”

“How many were there? Who did this?”

“Y/N, please--”

“No, Spencer, tell me what happened.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it!”

You know when to stop, so you just shut your mouth while he got dressed, “Get in the car, I’m taking you home.”

You didn’t say a word to him as he buckled his seatbelt and you could tell he appreciated it. You just drove to McDonald’s and got him his usual. You parked in the parking lot and ate your food in almost silence, save for the radio in the background.

“You don’t have to tell me what exactly happened, you could pretend none of this ever happened, I won’t mind, it’s okay, but I just need you to know, Spencer, say the word and she’s dead. I have so much dirt on her, you have no idea, I can destroy her.”

“Don’t.”

“Okay, I won’t. At least give me names. I will personally make sure none of those boys ever get a date again.”

“Y/N, please.”

“I’m serious, I’ll tell everyone they have herpes.”

“I know you are and that’s what scares me, please don’t, I don’t wanna make things worse.”

You decide to drop it because if he doesn’t wanna talk about it, he needs a distraction.

After you finish your food, you ask him “Your house or mine?”

“Yours. Please.”

You drove back to your house and got yourselves set up on the couch in front of the TV, turning on an episode of Doctor Who that you had recorded. You made him popcorn as he curled up on your couch, clutching a pillow. You were mostly quiet for the rest of the night, but when you did talk, it was to ask him a question about the show or if any of the science was accurate. It was the best you could do to keep him mind off things. Eventually, he fell asleep and you felt too bad to wake him. He got up by himself around midnight, jolting awake as if from a nightmare, and considering how the last few hours had been for him, it probably was one.

“Hey, bud, I’m here, it’s me.” You didn’t touch him, knowing he got overstimulated sometimes when he got really stressed, but he felt around for you on the couch next to him, needing to know you were really there this time. You patted his hand when it reached across the cushion for you.

“What time is it?”

“Way too late for you to be here, let’s get you home.”

He nodded, slowly rising to his feet and looking for his backpack, which you reminded him he had left in the car. Your hand hovered above his head for a moment before he lazily drifted into you as he walked. You took this as an okay to touch him, so you ruffled his hair before loosely slinging an arm around his shoulders as you guided him to your car.

The drive back to Spencer’s wasn’t too long, thankfully, because you were sure his parents would be furious with him and the kid’s been through enough today. You wanted to take all the heat without making them think you kidnapped him. The lights were still on when you pulled into the driveway. They were probably worried sick about him.

When you knocked on the door, a frantic woman with short blonde hair opened it. When she saw Spencer, she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the house, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Who are you? What are you doing with my son?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong, Mrs. Reid. I’m Y/N, he’s been tutoring me.”

“How do you know me? Spencer, what did you tell her?” She looked at him and back at you, “Get off my property and stay away from us!”

“Mom, she’s a fr--”

“Go up to your room, don’t come out.” She didn’t sound like an angry parent reprimanding her son, she sounded almost... scared.

A million alarms were going off in your head, and you needed to try to get through to her, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, he was helping me study and we lost track of time, it’s not his fault.”

“I don’t care, I don’t know you, get off my property!”

You decided it was best not to argue, so you hurried back to your car and drove home as quickly as possible so you could shower and go to bed and pray that Spencer would be okay tonight.

~~~

Your phone rang early the next morning. You rolled out of bed to answer it, sprinting to the hall table to take it off the stand. Checking the caller ID, you realized it was from a number you didn’t recognize. Answering it, you heard Spencer’s voice on the other side.

“Hello, this is Spencer, is Y/N home?”

“Yes, you woke me up on a Saturday morning, where else am I gonna be, kid?” Your voice was scratchy as you struggled to fight off the sleep still clawing at your throat.

“Sorry about that. I was just calling to apologize for last night.”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

“N-No, I’m not in trouble, I just wanted to explain why my mother was all--”

“She was worried, I get it.”

“N- she… My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, she doesn’t do well with strangers. She doesn’t even remember what she said to you last night, she was having one of her episodes. She was just confused.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You were so shocked by his sudden revelations, you just stayed silent. You didn’t want him to think he scared you, so you had to say something. And apparently, that something was “Oh.”

“She wanted to apologize, but she’s just a bit embarrassed, so I called for her.”

“N-No, it’s okay, I…” It was suddenly so hard to say you understood because while it made sense to you, you wouldn’t fully understand what he or his mom was going through, you didn’t understand it, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind. He was just glad it didn’t bother you. After the events of yesterday, he couldn’t afford to lose you.

“Tell her I’m sorry I scared her.”

“Will do. She said you could come over so she could apologize personally and meet her if you want.”

“I’d love to. And Spence?”

You felt him take pause. You never called him that before, “Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t wanna scare you.”

“You wouldn’t scare me, dude, you can tell me anything.”

“Really?”

“I promise. I’ll see you Monday?”

Spencer nodded, but you couldn’t see him, so he spoke up through the lump in his throat, “See you Monday.”

Taglist ~~~~~~

(Lmk if you wanna be added!!)

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @baby-pogue @rottenearly

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #mgg #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #cm fan fiction #cm imagine

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Callisto (Voyage - Bit 2)

Prologue Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2

As I continue to write the Prologue, have a little Lee Taylor and Jeff with some Johnny and Scott on the side.

As always, many, many thanks to @tsarinatorment @scribbles97 and @janetm74 for the ongoing support, as well as my technical advisor @onereyofstarlight for the geek out fest on the weekend ::hugs you all::

I hope you enjoy this. I’m certainly enjoying the challenge :D

-o-o-o-

Jeff stared after his son for a long moment. Emotion swirled in his head and tangled with his stomach. That lightspeed jump did mess with his innards more than he would admit.

But Virgil’s words messed him up even more.

What weren’t they telling him? What had happened to Scott while he was gone?

He had read a good percentage of the mission reports and backtracked through Tracy Industries’ history over that eight years. Scott’s conduct was exemplary. He couldn’t be prouder. Both organisations had flourished under his sons’ management, Scott being the major driving force, but his younger sons stepping in where needed.

Hell, even Gordon had dabbled in aquaculture and Tracy Industries was now a major player on that front.

Something soured in his gut that had nothing to do with lightspeed travel. Perhaps he needed to be a little more honest with himself. Maybe things had gone so well, that in truth, his return wasn’t really needed.

Scott was brilliant, his brothers…hell, Jeff was ever so proud. His sons were everything. They had accomplished so much.

But what did that leave for Jeff?

He cursed under his breath, disgusted with himself. His natural competitive tendencies did not need to be deployed against his own children.

But that vacant feeling of loss and lack of purpose swelled. He hadn’t even thought about not going on this mission. He had grabbed it like a lifeline and now, somehow, he had managed to alienate those brilliant young sons and caused pain and worry where he had no intention.

“Jeff? Where the hell are you?”

Lee.

Despite himself, Jeff smiled.

Pushing off from the bed, he floated through the door and into the corridor. Lee was expertly manoeuvring down one wall, his experience showing in every movement. “I have to say that this baby of yours definitely hits the spot. I’ll have two for the Mars colony, please.”

Jeff snorted. “Get in line. The GDF are already on my back.”

Lee pulled up alongside. “You gonna give them one?”

“I doubt it.” He sighed. “Val is ready to vouch, but from what I’ve read from the last eight years…I don’t think they can be trusted.”

“Then what are you going to do?” They drifted down the corridor towards the mess. “This technology is a great step forward.”

“Yeah. So much power, Lee. I’ve worried about the Thunderbirds getting into the wrong hands. This….hell…Brains and Michael make a formidable team.”

“Your boys make a formidable team, Jeff. You should be proud.”

“I am.”

Lee pulled him to a halt with a hand. “Then what the hell are you doing out here, Jeff? Gerry had me on the pipeline frantic.”

Jeff blinked. “Gerry?”

“The swimming one.”

“Oh, Gordon?”

Lee waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, whatever. But he was upset. Said you were trying to kill yourself.”

“What?!”

“Said your health wasn’t up to a long space flight. I know you know better than that, Colonel.” Blue eyes pinned him.

Oh, for the love of-

“I’m fine, Lee.”

“Bullshit. You may not be using that cane of yours, but I saw your medical charts when you got back. You fried your bones good, and your circulation has seen better days. Don’t think I’m an idiot. Gerry may be the excitable one, but he’s not dumb. Hell, even I can see Vinnie and Steve ain’t happy either.”

Jeff stared at him, caught between outrage that his best friend still couldn’t remember his sons’ names and the thought that Lee was also ganging up on him along with those sons.

“I am perfectly capable of handling this voyage. It is short. It is safe.”

Lee snorted with derision. “I know you know that there is nothing ‘safe’ about any space voyage, Jeff. Hell, you’re the one who taught me that. What are you playing at?”

That got his back up. “What am I playing at? Berry and Ju are missing, Lee.”

“Don’t you trust your boys?”

“I trust them!”

“Then let them do their jobs. You’ve done enough.”

Jeff glared at him. “I don’t see you retiring your space legs.”

“I didn’t go missing for eight years and fry my bones. You don’t have to do this. Your boys will find Berry and Ju. I’ve seen them in action. You should trust them.”

Jeff’s shoulders dropped. “I do.” It was an exhale. But... “Lee, I have to. I can’t sit on the sidelines anymore.”

Blue eyes stared at him, appraising. They weren’t unlike his eldest son’s eyes and probably shared the gene through Lucille.

The thought of his wife clenched his heart like it always did. Lee didn’t look much like his sister, but there were traces.

“Well, you’ve argued your ass out here. Looks like you’ve pissed half your family off in the process. I’d tread carefully. That eldest of yours looks ready to chew iron.”

Jeff grunted.

Lee reached out and grabbed an arm. “They’re good boys.” A swallow. “Lucy would be very, very proud.”

It was targeted and it hit perfectly. His throat tightened just a little. “I know.”

No more than breath. “I know.”

-o-o-o-

“I want to know why.”

John looked up from his tablet to see Scott floating in the doorway.

The astronaut knew this was coming. Hence his retreat to Thunderbird Five for a ‘systems check’.

“Because Dad needs this.” He turned back to his tablet, poked the device and shut down the scan he was running.

Scott pushed off the door frame and pivoted to a vertical stance - as a commanding posture as he could get in zero-g.

John raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment, forcing himself to relax in his partially seated position. He knew his brother was unhappy with him and he understood why. So, the question was a pertinent one.

“Dad does not need more illness and that is exactly where this is leading.”

“We won’t be out here that long.”

“How do you know? We don’t know what has happened? We won’t know fully until we are on site.”

John let his brother’s ire wash over him. “Scott, what are you going to do the day they say you can no longer fly?”

Blue eyes stared at him a moment. “What has that got to do with anything?”

John’s lips thinned. “Deny it all you want, but you know exactly what I mean.” He held his brother’s glare. “Dad has been grounded for nearly two years. Put yourself in his place. How do you think you would feel?”

He could see the inner turmoil on his big brother’s face. He hated going against Scott. It didn’t happen often, but it did happen and each time it hurt because it felt so wrong. Someone had to stand up for Dad in this and John feared the day he would be in his father’s place. To not be able to go into space. To never be able to see the stars unfettered by atmosphere again…he dreaded it. Just like he knew Scott dreaded losing his wings.

It was inevitable and they would both fight it as long as they could.

Just like their father.

But understanding didn’t make it any easier from a son’s perspective either. John knew in intimate detail exactly what his father’s health issues were. He empathised with him in ways that perhaps only Alan amongst his brothers could possibly understand. If he wasn’t careful, this was his future, too. Perhaps not as severe, perhaps not quite the same, but the risks were there.

His father’s cane reminded him every time he saw it.

Scott had already changed his rota on Five, Alan standing in more often, John on solid ground enough for cursed gravity to keep his systems running as they should.

Virgil had become hypervigilant as well, medical checks increased. He had once caught Dad’s chart up on display right next to his own, Virgil’s eyes comparing symptoms, obviously worried towards preventing issues before they happened in his little brother.

It had been a taxing couple of years.

“Okay, you’ve made your point.” It was grudging. “But it doesn’t remove the fact that his health is at risk. After all he’s been through…he’s been hurt enough.”

“Him or us?”

“Excuse me?”

“We have all been through hell and back. This isn’t just about Dad, Scott. I know. I’m just as scared as you.” He was, but he was shunting it away. He couldn’t afford it. “But this is who he is. You know that. He’s not going to wrap himself in a blanket, sit in a chair and rock his life away. If he did, he wouldn’t be Dad.” He blinked. “How do you see your twilight years? Are you going to slow down any time soon?”

“John-“

“He’s got all of us. He’s not alone out here. We’ll keep him safe.”

Blue eyes continued to stare at him, but there were no more words for a long time.

John simply stared back, calm and waiting.

“I am so angry at you.” The words slipped from his brother’s lips in frustration.

“I know.” John tilted his head just slightly. “Because you know I’m right.”

Scott got angry a lot, but he was rarely blinded by it. He couldn’t afford to be. And while Virgil tackled their big brother in his own way, John, in the few times Scott turned to him in this kind of situation, found that waiting him out with calm words usually worked. Not always, sometimes his brother just exploded more. But this time, this time John knew he was right and that Scott would understand, if he would listen.

His brother’s lips thinned, obviously with reluctance. “I want a medical monitor on him at all times. I want Five trained on him at all times.”

John arched an eyebrow, reached over and thumbed a switch. Their father’s vitals flickered into all their holographic glory. “Virgil already beat you to it. Wouldn’t let him on board without it.”

Those eyes tracked the readouts but Scott didn’t comment. “Keep an eye on him.”

John sighed and picked up his tablet again. As if he would do anything else. “Just like I do with all of you. They don’t call me the ‘Eye in the Sky’ for nothing.”

A grunt and Scott moved back towards the door. John poked at his tablet and resumed the scan he had been running. It wasn’t often humans were in this chunk of space and he planned to record everything he could.

If he was non-verbally dismissing his brother, it was on purpose. Scott needed to process and John was not needed for that.

And John had work to do before they jumped again.

He didn’t notice his brother leave.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Jeff Tracy #Lee Taylor #John Tracy #Scott Tracy #callisto

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phdna · 3 years

Note

there's Something in me that's ruined by the fact that bucky was in on steve's plan (tho to what extent we don't know, bc writing differences etc and the look on bucky's face when steve didn't immediately come back in endgame destroyed me) and yet he's the one who is clinging to steve's memory so strongly, and that's not to say that sam doesn't care bc that's nowhere NEAR the case, but I think that moment where bucky takes out steve's book and starts fiddling nervously with it says so much about how much he's physically been carrying his mourning, about how he's been clinging to steve's memory and actions as ~the good~ in his version of the world, and how hard it is to let that go even if he was the one with the warning, much like it's hard to let go after losing someone with a long term illness, tbqh I think it's the most telling thing about their bond since he pulled steve from the river

I, uh... Ended up writing a mini essay. Sorry for that.

Also I’m taking the liberty of tagging @angry-carlisle-jr just because this somewhat ties in to this post.

Oh boy, YES. I’m sure Steve being gone hits Sam hard - losing someone you’d die for has got to hurt, no matter how well-adjusted you are. And we can really see how much Sam is missing Steve. But Bucky... It’s just different, isn’t it? Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield. Does Bucky even properly remember not having Steve in his life?

I think it’s a clear display of how much Bucky is yearning for anything Steve-related that not only does he treat this notebook almost like a lifeline, but he’s also irrationally obsessed with the shield, even though the shield represents Captain America more than it does the little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. But he’ll take whatever keepsake he can find, because Steve is the one person he trusts unconditionally, and if he can’t trust anyone - including himself - bits and pieces of Steve is all he has left to orient himself. He’s clinging on to the things Steve told him, to the way Steve saw him, to the things Steve left behind, because that’s the closest thing to an anchor he has, and he’s obviously feeling so... adrift. No family, no friends, free to do what? If he lets go of the one thing he has left, where does that leave him?

And like. Of course this would happen. Of course! Bucky already had enough on his plate without having to add “coping with losing all the family he had left” to the things he has to deal with! And we can argue all day whether it was in character for Steve to leave (I don’t think it was - not in the way it happens in canon, anyway, but I can see other ways in which it could have been) - but I think it’s hard to argue that Bucky wouldn’t have wanted Steve to go. Not wanted as in “I’ll be happy if you leave” but as in “Leaving will make you happier than staying, and I care more about your happiness than mine.” Putting Steve’s wellbeing above his own is what Bucky does. Once the possibility of a happier timeline for Steve existed, Bucky would’ve never forgiven himself if he’d been the reason why Steve chose to give up that timeline.

What hits me so hard about all of this is how Bucky’s devotion is just so... pure. He’ll break through brainwashing to save Steve, but if Steve ever wants to leave, he won’t stop him, even if he knows that’ll make him miserable. I don’t think even Steve, loyal and loving as he is, could do that! And I don’t ever get the impression that Bucky even resents Steve or anything. He’s lost, and mourning, and struggling, but I feel like if Steve were to magically appear to double check if Bucky was still okay with his decision, Bucky would somehow find the strength to say that yes, of course, he is, it’s what Steve wanted, he’ll be alright. And that’s what utterly destroyed me about that scene. Like, Bucky will give up any and every thing he has for Steve’s sake, including the most precious thing he has, which is Steve himself. I mean, GOD!!! I didn’t think Bucky could top “break through brainwashing, jump off a helicarrier, dive into a river and use a broken arm to swim so he can use his other arm to pull Steve to safety” but maybe “being willing to lose the person he’d do all that for if that means Steve has a shot at living the peaceful life Bucky wishes he himself could’ve had” takes the cake, you know. Just ugh! How unconditionally can someone love someone else!!! This is literally too much for me to fully wrap my head around!!!!! And then I think - what is grief, if not love persevering? And then I try to imagine the amount of grief that’d come with this kind of lifelong, indelible, all-encompassing love, and I think “that’s a price Bucky is willing to pay for Steve’s happiness” and I just... I can’t deal with that.

#tfatws spoilers #apologies for any typos #I GOT EMOTIONAL OKAY #i don't answer for how incoherent this might be

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brandstifter-sys · 3 years

Text

Before You Know It

Word Count: 1475. (Ao3)

Relationship: Dukexiety

Rating: T

Warnings: disease mention, mild gore mention, implied violence, self-depreciation, sex mention

Remus is a lot wiser than he lets on, and he is the one side who could reach Virgil before he got accepted. And even now he's still good at helping the emo he loves feel better

-------

Janus sighed and closed the door behind him. It was no use, not this time, not after that display of disregard. He clutched the icepack, now warm with tears, and looked up at the side waiting for answers.

“He won’t listen to me, not this time, even with hypnosis,” he sighed, “Maybe you can reach him, Remus. Someone has to.”

Remus nodded solemnly and sank out. Virgil wasn’t leaving his room, and after the video that day, it was understandable why he would want to hide. Thomas turned him into a cartoon. Thomas made him fly to California. Thomas made him a supervillain. Thomas punched him. in. the. face. Rejection was one thing, but that, that broke him. Remus and Janus feared for the worst.

“Oh Virgilisonfire!" he sang as he rose up in the dimly lit room. His slimy black heart broke at the sight of Anxiety curled up and slumped over his knees, bundled in blankets with his hood up. He had a nasty bruise on his cheek that shone under a glaze of tears.

"All I want is to protect him," Virgil sniffed and hugged himself tighter, "But I'm not doing that anymore."

Remus approached the bed and sat down next to him.

"What do you mean? You're protecting him still. He's just an idiot. And that's saying something coming from your favorite horny dumbass!" Remus giggled and wrapped an arm around him.

"I'm holding him back, I'm hurting him, and I don't blame him for hating me. I'm a disease. A terrible illness that won't stop making things worse."

"You? Kickin-bod Crane? No no no no, that's not right, not at all," Remus pouted and pulled him closer with no resistance.

"Versa E-Verge, you aren't some sexy strain of yersinia pestis, I would be harassing you day and night if you were," he said, getting a snort from Virgil, "No, you are not the plague. You have your moments of overdoing it, but who doesn't? You do a lot for the big T that he doesn’t appreciate, and you know that, you just gotta stay determined to do you.”

“But doing me hurts him so much. Even if I do some good stuff, I do a lot more harm and he hates me for it. He’s right to hate me. I’m not the plague but I am a sickness, like the Spanish flu.”

“You wanna go with disease metaphors? Okay! You know you only have to deal with the Spanish flu once, and he deals with you a lot more than that. You, my gloomy goober, have bad times, and they’re as basic as a common cold!” Remus said with a bright grin, making Virgil scowl, “Yeah, you’re not some terrible illness, you’re just a common cold, gone before you know it, and then back at it again and it’s predictable. You’re not killing him, making him rot from the inside out or destroying his vital organs, you’re a mild inconvenience when shit hits the fan. Those bad times pass, and then you’re not what he thinks is a problem. Again, I’m telling you, Thomas is dumb, like he has three Kronk's in his personality.”

“Three?” Virgil questioned and wiped his eyes, “I know Princey and Patton are, but who’s the third?”

“Me!” Remus laughed and threw his arms out. Virgil let out a small laugh and shook his head.

“Kronk is kind, strong, respectful, and moronic.”

“Yeah, I know!”

“You’re not moronic.”

“Aw!” Remus squealed and pulled Virgil into a bear hug, earning a fond groan in response. Virgil took a minute to free his arms and hug back, but he managed to do it.

“Thanks, Dukey, you always know what to say to help.”

“I also know how what to say to make you incredibly uncomfortable, disturbed, disgusted, and horn—"

“Shut up a bit and lemme have this moment.”

“Okay, Scare Bear. We love you, even if they don’t. I love you.”

---------------

Two Years Later…

“You know what's funny. You used to really unsettle me,” Virgil said, finally addressing him without the others intervening. Remus pouted and rolled his neck, wondering why Janus hadn’t popped up for this load of bull.

“I thought that you were some...terrible illness.” That caught his attention, and a soft smile crept onto his face. He could see where Virgil was going with this, the subtlety masked his meaning perfectly.

“Now I can see that you're just...a common cold...a mild inconvenience...that's gone before you know it."

Remus couldn’t fight the laugh that bubbled from his chest, “Oh, you TickleMe Emo! I enjoyed this! Good seeing you again, Virgil! Ah, it was just like old times!” He didn’t need to see more than that reluctant half-smile before sinking out.

After a quick bit of annoying Roman, because no sibling can easily resist the urge to be a pain, Remus actually returned to his room. It really was fun to finally get to interact with Thomas face-to-face, even if he didn’t give the duke a positive reception. Not that Remus was looking for positivity in this case, he was busy being an alarm that something wasn’t right. That something was Janus, refusing to leave his room for anything. Remus absolutely refused to offer any advice to help his slithering partner in crime, since Janus was too stubborn and his advice was probably what led to Virgil ducking out.

Remus flopped on his four-poster bed and sighed. Maybe his advice from before did reach Virgil as he intended, maybe it wasn't enough back then. Seeing him so hostile recently should have made Remus see that he forgot those words until Logan brought up doctors. It wouldn't have surprised the duke if Virgil willingly forgot about their history together. It stung but Remus saw it coming. He didn't see what was just on the horizon.

"Octopup?" Virgil's shaking voice got Remus to sit up. His heart broke when he saw Virgil standing in front of him, hugging himself with his head hanging. He was shaking and terrified.

"Need a hug, Scare Bear?" Remus asked and held his arms open, as if nothing had changed. Virgil crashed into him, knocking him back and clinging to him for dear life. Remus held him close and stroked his hair.

"So do you want to tell me what's wrong or should I just keep doing this?"

"I–I—" Virgil stammered, fighting back tears, "I told Thomas I was one of you. He didn't take it well."

"I hate to break it to you, but you're still one of us. You always have a place here, even if you don't think you do. You really think that we would just stop caring about you even though you left?"

"I've been horrible to you. Why would you want me back?"

"No one is trying to bring you back, we understand that you had to go. But you are always welcome if you want to visit our little cesspool."

"Remus," Virge said, pulling away to look at him, "it's not a cesspool. I know you aren't just intrusive thoughts and you do other good things. I just got stuck on the horrible things that could happen."

"I guess I really did unsettle you."

"Whenever you said, 'I love you,'" Virge admitted shyly, "I kinda figured it was just low-stakes platonic and I kinda—"

"Wanted it to be higher stakes?" Remus continued, "Because I have some good news for you!"

"Knowing I missed out is not good news."

"Then it's a good thing it's not that!" Remus giggled and held him closer, "I want you to be happy, Harlot's Web, but it would be so much better to be able to be the reason you smile and laugh. I love you, Virge and I don't care if you don't love me back, I just want you to be comfortable and confident and the image in my head when I j—"

Virgil surged forward and kissed him, desperately but sweetly. It caught Remus by surprise, but he was a man who lived for surprises! But Virgil pulled away before he could kiss back.

"I—I'm–I shouldn't've—" Virgil yelped and covered his mouth, ready to cry again.

"But you did, and I'm not complaining!" Remus teased, "But if you aren't comfortable with it, I'm good like this. You don't have to worry about me and my feelings right now, you need some creature comfort, and I am a slimy creature built for comfort—and pleasure!"

"I love you too, you himbo trash man!" Virgil grumbled and hid his face in Remus' shoulder, "Thank you for being there for me, even now."

"Aw, Scare Bear!" Remus squealed and hugged him even tighter. Virgil didn't fight to break free. He nuzzled closer and melted into the embrace. He felt like he was home for the first time in forever.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #remus sanders #dukexiety #janus sanders #mild gore mention tw #implied violence tw #disease mention tw #sex menton tw #self-depreciation tw #sandyscribed

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writingmyanxietyaway · 4 years

Text

Doctor Love | Berlin

Requested by anon: So okay okay, I had this idea a few days ago, and since your requests are open I'm gonna slide in real quick :)is it okay if I request a little scenario where like, u know when Berlino does that dumb thing of self sacrificing becuz he's gonna die anyway? What if his girlfriend/reader has been searching for a cure for his illness and before he can get himself killed she goes in the bank and tells him and somehow they manage to escape from the bank? No pressure if the idea doesn't appeal u! Ily!!

Word count: 2.4k

Warning: spoilers of season 2! maybe swearing, mentions of violence, guns, the whole shabang

Note: not my gif! Okay, so I’m in love with this request!! It took me a little longer to write, because I wanted to get it perfect. Let me just say I’m not a doctor, so I have no idea if there is a cure for the illness he has, but Imma try! Hope you like it darling! Thanks for the request and love you too! xx

------------

‘I’m sick. I have an illness called Helmer’s myopathy. It’s a muscle degenerative disease, which means that my muscles get weaker and weaker until my heart muscles can’t keep up anymore. If I’m lucky I have four months left,’ he told you like it was nothing; like it was answer to a question on a pubquiz. He held your hands in his, knowing it would break your heart and dreams of a future with him.

‘Andrés..’ you whispered, ‘why didn’t you tell me sooner?’ He sighed and gently shook his head.

‘It’s uncurable, princess. I have medicine that I have to take every few hours that make it somewhat acceptable, but I wanted you to know.’

You visibly broke down. Even though you were always someone who never wanted to show any emotion besides happiness and anger, but this was different shit. Your hands were shaking, body trembing as you tried to understand that everything you had imagined yourself doing with Andrés would be nothing more than a dream. It simply didn’t make sence. Being together with Andrés for more than six months, you’d hoped he would be more open towards you and share what was going on with him. You felt your throat closing up, eyes filling with tears.

This illness was just the cherry on top for him. The man had done terrible things in his life and could mark off just about any sin in the Bible. Stealing, robbing, charming women. Karma was getting her way back to him and all he could do was accept his fate. It came across as cold to you. All this time you planned this whole life for you two together, but he knew that would never come true.

‘No! This is cruel! You let me believe we would be together for the rest of our lives, hell, you told me you wanted to marry me when you got out! You knew even if you made it out alive, you wouldn’t live longer than summer. You’ve done some terrible things in your life Andrés, but this..’ you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. ‘This is just rude.’

The sadness you felt quickly turned into anger as you kept yelling at him, hitting him in the chest. He knew better than to interrupt you and tell you that everything would be okay, because he just now realized it wouldn’t be okay. He would die and leave you behind. Period.

‘I knew you were a self-centred bastard! You always play these mind games and somehow make everyone get on their knees for you! Is that all I am to you, huh?! Some game to find how far you can go? Because let me tell you Andrés, this game is finished. Game. Over,’ you hissed. You threw your hands up in the air and stormed out.

That was more than four weeks ago. In the meantime you had spoken again and this time the anger had disappeared and just cried. That was all you could do. You had accepted that you would most likely be a widdow before summer and that broke your heart, but you also wanted to fight. Andrés told you there was no cure to his illness, but there was hope burning inside you and you did everything in your power to still find that cure. Whether it meant getting no sleep for the next few weeks or not.

Andrés would soon be leaving for the big robbery and you had spent every second of the day being with him and holding him close. The times where you would have rough sex the entire day were over; it was now making love. He was gentle to you, making you breakfast in bed even though he could easily ask one of the maids to do it and even buying you nice dresses in colours that matched your eyes.

Without him knowing, you contacted one of your best friends who worked at the lab of a university and asked him if he could do more research on medicine for muscle-related illnesses. He said he had some information that he wanted to share with you, but that meant you had to visit him.

‘Babe, I’m gonna have to run to Macy really quickly. Think you’ll be okay?’ you asked. Macy was your sister and seven months pregnant, so it often happened that you visited her to help her with something. That way he wouldn’t suspect a thing. You had no idea how he did it, but he always seemed to know what you were up to.

‘Of course, princess. Give her a kiss for me, okay?’ he winked, giving you a kiss on the lips. You lightly slapped his chest.

‘Be back for dinner,’ you told him. Out of the blue, he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you against him. He leaned down and you could feel his breath on your neck. Shivers send down your spine.

‘Your ass looks great in those jeans,’ he whispered, placing a light kiss on your neck and slapping you on the bottom. You giggled and pushed yourself away from him.

‘Bye!’ you called, waving him goodbye and walking out the door. You soon arrived at the university and was met by your friend who was waiting for you outside. You greeted each other with a hug and quickly got to work. He told you about the compositions of the different medications and what effect they had on what part of the muscle.

‘Isn’t there any way we could find a way to make this medicine last longer? This is the medication he uses now to keep it under control for a few hours,’ you gave him a syringe filled with the medicine and he studied it. He took the bottle from you and studied it contents.

‘There are some elements of this medicine that also appear in this,’ he pointed to a beaker filled with a milky white liquid. ‘I should be able to find a connection that makes this last longer.’

‘Is there anything I can do? I feel so hopeless not being able to do anything,’ you mumbled.

‘You did a great job already by giving me this. Is it okay if I keep the syringe? I need something that we know works, even if it isn’t permanent,’ he said. You nodded and waved your hand.

‘Of course. Anything to help find a cure. Thank you for doing this. I can’t even explain how much this means to me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t at least tried,’ you told him. He turned to look at you and gave you a hug.

‘That’s what I’m here for. If I find anything, I’ll let you know, okay?’

It was the fifth day of the heist. Andrés had been gone for almost three weeks now, being busy with training and all. He obviously knew about the plan already, but being the passionate man he is, wanted to go over every single detail again. He couldn’t afford making any mistakes. The goodbye was hard. You cried loudly as he held you close, whispering little reasuring words in your ear. You were thankful for Sergio. He kept you updated on everything that was going on, but didn’t tell you any details or steps of the plan. You didn’t want to either; it was scary enough without knowing how everything went down in there.

It was now wednesday and you were sitting on the couch. You hadn’t heard from Sergio in two days and it started to worry you. The news wasn’t exactly uplifting too. Andrés’ face was displayed all over every tv channel, name heard on every radio station and seen on every wall in Spain. Your heart fell even lower when the news announced he was sick. The smug inspector worked on you nerves as she spoke about him like he was an animal. Sure, the man had done things that broke the law, but he never killed anyone nor hurt any woman.

‘Fuck,’ you cursed under your breath. Suddenly your phone rang and the called ID showed Alex, your friend at the lab. Your heartbeat increased and you were anxious about what he was about to say. You picked up the phone and heard his loud voice. A tearful smile made it’s way on your face as you heard him say those three words you so desperately longed to hear.

‘I have it! I have the cure!’ he yelled. You jumped up and raced towards the university where he was already waiting on you. The hug you shared was one filled with hapiness.

‘Okay, he needs to inject this like he did with the other medicine. This is enough to last until november. I have some of it still in the lab so I produce more and work more on the duration of it. I can’t promise it will work for the rest of his life, but for now it’ll do,’ he spoke. You said goodbye and rushed to Sergio’s hide-out. The medicine you held in your hands would give him at least eight more months and until then Alex had a better cure. You burst through the doors and Sergio jumped up. You could see the whole that had been dug in the floor. You turned to Sergio and burst into tears of joy.

‘He’s not leaving us, Sergio. He’s staying. With you, with me. He’s staying,’ you rushed. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears and the rush of adrenaline was so high, you thought you’d pass out. Your words seemed to land as he slowly moved towards you. His gaze fell on the little box you were holding and his eyes flickered from the black object to the hole in the floor and tears welled in his eyes.

‘I have to get it to him, Sergio. He needs to know there is something out here for him. You and I both you the man is up to something. Let me go in there, please!’ you pleaded. He quickly snapped out his trance and gave you a red suit and black boots to finish the look.

‘When you get to the indside, wait inside the vault. No one knows you’re getting in and that way you won’t get attacked. Take this with you,’ he pushed a fake gun in your hands and you placed it in the holster on your thigh. ‘Goodluck.’

When you were about to enter, you heard a lot of noise coming from the computer. The police had broken in. He nodded to you and you ran as quickly as you could through the tunnel. When you entered the vault, you were met by two people. A young man with dark hair and a woman with blonde curls. They looked suprised to see you and the man pointed a gun at you.

‘Serg- El Professor send me. I’m Berlin’s girl,’ you quickly said, stumbling over your words. Sure, you were carrying a gun with you, but it was a fake. Having a real gun pointed at you made you nearly shit your pants. When the girl pointed out I was carrying a gun and came through the only way out, he lowered the gun and craweled through the tunnel. It wasn’t hard to find Berlin as he came running in the direction of where you were coming from. You caught the stares of the other people who nodded at you and went on with their duties.

‘Berlin, babe!’ you called, making him freeze.

‘What are you doing here, princess? It’s not safe for you. They’ll come running through those halls any minute now,’ he sternly said, turning around and grabbing you firmly by the arm. ‘Leave, now!’

‘No, I’m not leaving. I came here to tell you I found a cure,’ you breathed and everyone around you froze. ‘You didn’t know, but I’ve been doing research for a medicine and I’ve found it. The first dose should work ‘till November. After that I’ll have a much stronger and longer working dose.’

‘Princess, I told you to leave,’ he said more firmly this time. You didn’t move.

‘Like I said, I’m not leaving. Not without you anyway. You promised me a life that I could only dream of and now we can have it. I love you with all my heart. I can’t loose you. Not now, not ever.’ Tears cascaded down your cheeks as you begged the man you loved so much to trust you and come with you.

‘Leave, now. Helsinki, take her with you,’ he ordered the bulky man behind you, but he didn’t move.

‘Love is a passionate thing, Berlin. I don’t know this woman, but she found a cure for your uncurable disease. That’s literally doing the impossible. You have five seconds to decide to leave with this woman or I’ll take you with me. Don’t look away when you have everything in front of you,’ he spoke. He turned his attention to you and you gave him a grateful smile. He smiled back and nodded.

‘Will you please come with me? If you don’t come with me, I’ll stay with you. I either die with you or leave with you, you decide,’ you stated. He looked at the box you held in your hand and realized how much he loved you. Moving towards you, he passionately smashed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t filled with lust, but relief and gratefulness.

‘As soon as we walk out those doors, I’m marrying you. No exceptions,’ he mumbled against your lips. You nodded and held him closer.

‘That was the plan.’

You heard the policemen run behind you and Helsinki was quick to throw a grenade. Berlin pushed you all inside and bowed your head in his chest. Once the grenade had exploded, you all rushed back and blew up the tunnel. You joined Sergio and Helsinki in the back of the truck, leaning against Andrés.

‘There are no words to explain how much I love you, princess. No words.’

The two of you left to Cuba, where you got married soon after you arrived. The wedding was on the beach, your white dress flowing around you while you stared at the man you could finally call your husband. Only a month after the wedding you surprised Andrés by telling you were pregnant.

‘You are my heart, my soul and my everything. Thank you for being my wife and everything I’ve ever wished for.’

.. .. .. .. ..

Berlin Taglist

@nkjktk - @michaellangdonenthusiast - @hamiltonsofcrap

#la casa de papel #lcdp imagine #berlin x reader #berlin imagine #pedro alonso #lcdp x reader #lcdp

216 notes · View notes

lightsupinthenorth · 4 years

Text

Harringrove teachers AU part 3

Part 1 - Part 2

Thank you to everyone who read, liked and/or reblogged the previous parts. Also, the people who said something nice in the tags or in reactions own my heart. Just thought you should know ;) <3

Tag list: @twoprettyboys, @inkedplume, @marianaosborne, @liglitterbug, @hmg621 @spreckle @goldenweatherharringrove @yikesharringrove @yogurtfordinner @wingedbears @charlotte-frey @hargrovesharrington

If anyone wants to be added to or taken off the tag list for the future posts of this AU, let me know ;)

I hope the tags are working because I recently had some trouble with them (ah, Tumblr is a mess).

I was planning on keeping the chapters short but every part has been longer than the last so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (then again, it’s still pretty short so I guess it’s fine ^^).

I’ll stop rambling now.

Billy didn’t know how he had ended up in this situation, this situation being Steve and he making out in the otherwise empty teachers’ lounge, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. He wanted to keep Steve’s soft lips on his forever. Sadly, he didn’t get his way: there was a loud bang, and suddenly Steve’s lips were gone. Steve was gone too, as well as the teachers’ lounge. Billy woke up at home, in his bed, hard as a rock in the basket-ball shorts he was wearing as pajamas.

Great, he got an erection just from dreaming he and Steve were kissing. What was he? A teenager? That was pathetic.

Billy was considering rubbing one out, despite the embarrassment, but there was another loud bang that made him remember why he had woken up in the first place.

What the fuck was happening this early on a Saturday?

Billy instantly worried Max had fallen or, worse, that someone had broken into the flat and would hurt her (highly improbable in such a small town, but Billy wasn’t alert enough to be logical). The concern killed his arousal in two seconds tops. He shot up from bed and exited his bedroom in a hurry.

He found Max in their open kitchen, mixing what appeared to be pancakes ingredients.

“What was that noise?” He asked, in lieu of a greeting.

“I dropped the pan. Sorry.”

“There were two noises.”

“I dropped the mixing bowl too. Let me live! It’s your fault, you stored both these things on the highest shelf” Max complained.

“Hey, no need for a defense, I’m not accusing you. I was just worried, shitbird.”

“Oh… well, I’m okay.”

“And you’re making pancakes, so I’m certainly not going to complain.” Billy added.

“Who told you I was making some for you?”

Billy pouted, even though he knew Max was bluffing. He could see the amount of batter in the mixing bowl. She had quite an appetite, but there was no way she’d be able to eat all of that on her own.

“So mean, so early in the morning.”

“What can I say, I love messing with you.”

Paradoxically, Billy was happy that she did. When they had first met, he’d been a perpetually angry teenager, and teeny tiny Max had done everything she could to stay out of his way. Once Susan had announced she was ill, though, Billy had tried his hardest to be the brother Max deserved. After Susan’s death, Billy had looked after Max and kept her safe from his father until he had turned legal. He had then fought to get Max away from Neil and had obtained full custody of her.

It had been hard to balance getting his degree, working part-time jobs, and taking care of Max. Even more so with Neil trying to steer trouble every now and again. But they had made it out alright, in the hand, and Billy didn’t regret a second of it.

“Sit your ass down.” Max said as she turned the stove on.

“Oh no, no way. You ‘sit your ass down’. I’ll take it from here.”

Max was good at finding the best recipes and at mixing ingredients, but the cooking process was another thing entirely: she had nearly burned the kitchen down almost every time she had tried using the oven or the stove. Her cooking privileges had been revoked after the fifth time.

“Ugh, fine.”

Billy had two plates full on pancakes in no time. He put one in front of Max and went to sit down with his own on the other side of the table. The second his ass touched his chair, Max asked:

“So, you have plans with Steve and Robin this afternoon?”

Billy frowned.

“First of all, it’s Mrs. Buckley and Mr. Harrington for you”, he started, just to get on her nerves (he didn’t give a fuck how she called her teachers), “and second, how do you know that?”

Max arched an eyebrow.

“You literally talked about it with Steve right in front of me yesterday”, she said, ignoring Billy’s reprimand (no surprise, there).

“Oh… right… I did.”

Truthfully, Billy had stopped paying attention to Max and El the second he had laid eyes on Steve and the dumb spot of blue paint that had been resting on his cheek as if it had any right to.

“So, what are you guys going to do?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re going to grade papers.”

“Well, that’s exciting.”

Her sarcasm was off the charts.

“Tell me about it”, Billy mumbled, around a mouthful of pancake.

“Ew, gross.”

Billy stuffed even more pancake into his mouth, in defiance, before he spoke again:

“So, Art club, uh? What’s up with that?”

They hadn’t had an opportunity to talk about it the day before, because Friday night was movie night, and they had eaten dinner in front of the tv. Plus, Billy would have been too distracted to hold a conversation (Steve hadn’t left his mind).

“Steve said I should come. He noticed I haven’t been speaking to a lot of people, and he said it might help to do an activity in a smaller group…�� Max wasn’t looking at Billy as she explained.

“Anyway, I think he was right. He’s the best!” She beamed as she said it, finally looking up from her slowly but surely diminishing pile of pancakes.

“That’s good. I’m glad.”

Billy was glad, really. He was also a bit frustrated that Steve had managed to talk to Max about making friends, when Billy hadn’t known how to bring it up without offending her, but he wasn’t petty enough to show he had a problem with it. Even if Max calling Steve “the best” was treason of the highest order, Billy just wanted her to be happy. If Steve’s intervention helped more than Billy himself could, then so be it.

They finished breakfast, got ready for the day and then went grocery shopping. As they got back to the flat, Max went to her room to chill, and Billy read for a while before he started preparing lunch. Keeping busy distracted him from thinking about seeing Steve in the afternoon. Well, he didn’t think about it too much, at least.

When Billy made his way into the coffee shop, Steve and Robin were already seated, talking animatedly… in another language.

“Hi. Was that Italian?”

They must not have noticed him approaching, because as soon as he greeted them, they stopped talking, and Steve looked up at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Hey Billy”, Robin said, “as a matter of fact, it was.”

“Don’t you teach French and Spanish?”

Billy was perplexed.

“I do. Doesn’t mean I don’t speak Italian.”

“It figures”, Billy shrugged.

He wanted to ask Steve where he had learnt Italian, because it intrigued him. However, he chose not to. He didn’t want to talk to him unless it was necessary. It’d be better for everyone if they had the bare minimum of interactions together, surely.

“Are these new piercings?” Robin asked, gesturing toward his ears.

“Uh, no. I’ve had them for a long time. I just don’t wear them at school.”

“Well, you should. They look really cool, and I’m sure no one would have anything to say about it.”

Billy stared at Steve pointedly, but Steve looked away as soon as he caught his gaze.

“I’ll think about it.” Billy finally said.

Steve and Robin already had their orders, so Billy took his wallet from his bag and went to the counter. He glanced at the display case and eyed the cherry pie with envy, but decided against it. After this morning’s pancakes, it wouldn’t be reasonable. Plus, he hadn’t hit the gym in a few days. He had to start indulging less if he wanted to stay in shape. He went for a simple black coffee. As the burly man behind the counter, whom Billy guessed to be Benny, asked him if he wanted anything else, Billy nearly surrendered, but he powered through. He handed Benny a ten-dollar bill and put the change he was given in one of his pockets.

When Billy went back to their table with his cup of coffee, Steve was blowing on his cup of steaming hot tea. Billy’s eyes caught on the ‘o’ shape of Steve’s lips, which reminded him of his dream. He averted his eyes, praying to God he wasn’t blushing, now that he couldn’t hide it behind his tan anymore (screw Hawkins, Indiana).

As Billy sat down, he noticed Steve had a piece of the pie he’d been eyeing. Not fair. He nearly started pouting but caught himself. After all, his pie-less state was his own fault. Why did he have to be reasonable?

Billy took his pen and the essays he had to grade out of his backpack to give himself something to focus on. But then Steve started eating. And he moaned. Quite obscenely.

“Mh, this is so good. Benny is a magician. You guys want a bite?”

Billy really wanted to say yes, not only because he wanted pie, but because Steve was the one offering. It would have been weird, though? Right?

“No thanks” he ended up saying. What a hard thing to say.

Robin had no such qualms. She needn’t have, since she and Steve were actually friends. Not only did she get to experience Steve warmth and kindness, she also got a bite of his pie. Did she even know how lucky she was?

Billy got into his grading. And he was already past the no-pouting stage of the afternoon. It sucked to be him, sometimes.

“You should probably wait for Steve to finish eating… and drinking too, to be honest, before you put your students’ paper on the table. That man is a disaster.”

Billy had to admit Robin was right. He ate lunch with Steve on a regular basis, and had therefore seen him spill a bunch of things on himself. Thankfully, nothing he had ever spilled had reached Billy, so they were probably safe.

“Oh come on! We’re on opposite ends of the table.” Steve objected.

“I know, but I’m sure you’d find a way.”

Steve scoffed but didn’t try to argue his case any further. He looked adorably ruffled when Robin laughed at his expanse.

They didn’t say anything more for a while, as they were finally doing what they had come here to do. At some point, though, Robin brought up a point one of her students had made about the French translation of “Newspeak” in George Orwell’s 1984, which led her and Billy to launch a discussion about the novel.

Steve offered no input whatsoever, but he had stopped grading and had been staring at them for five minutes straight.

It was making Billy’s skin itch.

At some point, he couldn’t take it anymore and asked:

“What’s your opinion Steve?”

“Uh… I… I don’t really have one.” He stammered, caught off guard.

“How come?”

“I, uh, I haven’t actually read the book.”

“Oh. Well, you should. It’s an amazing book.”

Steve fidgeted with his red pen, repeatedly taking the cap off and then putting it back on.

“Uh… I don’t know about that. It’s not really my thing.”

“How can you know it’s not your thing if you haven’t read it?” Billy asked, a tad defensively.

“I didn’t mean the book… I meant, reading.”

Steve bit his lower lip.

“Why not? Is that beneath a math buff such as yourself, or something?” Billy’s tone had become hostile.

And, by pulling accusations out of his ass like that, he had gone from defensive to straight up aggressive.

“No. ‘course not… It’s just… reading is hard for me… I’m, uh… I’m dyslexic, so…” Steve trailed off, looking down at the pen he was seemingly holding in a vice grip.

Billy was speechless with shame and regret, as Steve offered a wobbly smile and said: “I’m gonna… go get some more tea”, before leaving the table.

Billy stared at his retreating form before he turned to Robin and found her glaring at him. If he could have felt worse than he already did, he would have.

“So… should I go apologize right now or should I leave him alone and apologize later?”

Teenage Billy would have probably not apologized at all, but present-time Billy knew better. He felt like the biggest jerk.

“I’d say, go for it.”

Billy followed Robin’s advice and, with knots in his stomach, he went to Steve, who was waiting for his tea behind the counter.

“Steve, man… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay…” Steve said, but his eyes didn’t leave his own shoes.

That wouldn’t do. Billy had made Steve feel shitty, and he would make it better if it were the last thing he did.

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

Billy had let his frustration with Steve get the better of him, and that was unacceptable. Steve was not particularly nice to him, so what? It wasn’t a reason to be outright mean to the guy.

“Really, it’s no big deal… It’s not like it’s a secret… my dyslexia, I mean.”

“Yeah, but you obviously didn’t want to share this piece of info with me, and I should have dropped it.”

“I just… I was afraid you’d find me stupid… But you probably thought I was stupid already, anyway… what with me never having anything interesting to say when Robin and you talk about literature.”

“Hey, I don’t…”

Benny placed Steve’s cup of tea on the counter, cutting Billy mid-sentence.

“It’s on me”, Billy said, fishing his five-dollar bill of change out of his jean’s back pocket and handing it to Benny.

“You didn’t have to.”

Was Steve blushing or was it a trick of the light?

“I want to make it up to you.”

“There’s nothing to make up for, but thanks.”

Steve grabbed his cup of tea and was going to go back to their table, but Billy held him back.

“Wait… I want you to know I don’t find you stupid, okay? I know I’m kind of a jackass, but not enough of one to actually think dyslexic people are stupid.”

“Good to know”, Steve replied.

“So, are we good?”

“I told you, we are.” Steve assured, smiling brighter than he had ever smiled at Billy before.

The knots in Billy’s stomach loosened, and his heart filled with warmth. So that was how it felt, when Steve’s sunshine fell upon you? Billy couldn’t wait to experience that feeling again.

“We should get back to Robin.”

“We should” Billy echoed, before following Steve, awestruck.

#Harringrove #Harringrove teachers AU #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #Max Mayfield #Robin Buckley #Stranger Things

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