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her-devils-advocate · 6 months ago

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Let me take care of you

pairings: Levi Ackerman x reader

genre: fluff and smut

summary: It has been a few months since the war ended, and peace has brought a lot of change along with it. Physical and mental scars surround both of you, so you decide to show Levi just how much you love him.

note: This is my first time when it comes to branching out and writing smut, so apologies if it's not the best!

word count: 2,245

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55780150

You watch as Levi enters your shared room, he places his cane on his side of the bed before moving towards the mirror. You’re peacefully stretched out across your side, having been waiting for him to finish his book and join you for the evening. Ever since the war ended, he had gradually been getting used to at least attempting to rest for the night and even though the nightmares persist, no longer being on high alert at all times has since helped.

Your eyes are locked onto him as he slowly removes his shirt, a fresh one already waiting for him on the nightstand nearby as he starts getting ready for bed.

You take the chance to slowly drag your eyes across his revealed flesh, your gaze trailing over the firm muscles of his back, flexing with each little movement. Your gaze shifts to run across the myriad of scars littering his pale skin, the silver ones glittering in the overhead light while the darker, larger ones sit proudly upon their owner's back. You love tracing his scars, mapping out the constellation while he slowly dozes off, lulled by your soft touch. Back when you were scouts, it was almost the only way to guarantee he would sleep, especially for longer than his usual three hours.

"I can see you gawking, you know." His voice breaks you out of your memory and you look up to meet his eyes in the mirror. His eyebrow is raised and you can see the gleam of amusement that he tries to hide within his eyes.

"It's not gawking, it's called appreciating." You reply, your voice is light, knowing where his mind will take him. A small grumble from the man confirms your suspicions.

"Yeah right, what's there to appreciate?" Levi gestures to himself, fixing you with an unimpressed look that you are happy to return. You feel your heart clench at the rare moment of insecurity on display. You watch through the mirror as his eyes flick over to the scar sitting along the right side of his face before dropping to rest on his still-bandaged hand, despite the injury having been long since healed.

You gingerly reach out your hand, beckoning for him to sit beside you. He reluctantly complies, letting out a small sigh before sitting down on the plush bed.

You gently take his damaged hand in yours, peppering a dozen kisses across the top of it. You only stop when his hand moves to cup your jaw, his eyes are tender and you can see the unwavering adoration within their silver depths.

"Levi, you're beautiful and no, don't give me that look, you are." You bring a spare hand to brush the silky strands of hair out of his face, tucking a few of the longer ones behind his ear and catching his attention again.

"You're still the same man I fell in love with all those years ago, a few extra injuries haven't and won't change that. We both survived, despite everything that’s happened we’re still here and that's all I could ask for."

You lean closer to him, searching his eyes for acceptance and when he gives a small nod, you bring your lips together in a sweet kiss. You feel him shuffle to be able to place a hand on your waist, the other coming up to thread through your hair as he kisses you back, just as fervently.

You feel his lips desperately move against yours, savouring the moment in his usual impatient style before he deepens the kiss. You feel his tongue enter you, meeting with your own and you struggle to hold back the moan as you grip onto his bicep to calm the frantic beating of your heart. He lets out a hum of his own, the sound echoing in your mind as you lose yourself to the sensations of your shared desire.

You try to control your breathing as you explore him with your tongue, despite having done it so many times before. He tastes like his own unique blend of tea, a common occurrence for him after you had purchased a small collection of herbs he could use to make his own unique flavour. Your grip on his arm tightens as he gently nips on your lower lip, earning a small groan from you. You hold onto one another desperately as you push your bodies closer together, your kiss growing more and more frantic and the mental dam finally breaks, months of stress leaving you wanting nothing more than one another.

You run your hands up his arms until you can hook them behind his head, letting your fingers dance along the velvet hairs of his undercut while you melt in his hold, giving all control over to him as he continues to greedily brush his tongue against yours. He drinks in your hunger, fueling his own desire.

Remembering that you both require oxygen, you pull apart from each other with a small sigh. Levi brings his hand up to gently brush his thumb against your bruised lips, staring at you in dazed wonder. His touch is electric, sending shivers up and down your body as you gaze at him through half-lidded eyes.

“What was that for?” His voice is slightly breathy and you can feel his fingers continue to play with the strands of your hair.

“I just want to show you how much I love you.” You try to meet his eyes, for once not willing to back down from his intense gaze, only for him to be the one to break eye contact first.

“You show me that every day when you remain by my side…” Levi’s voice is a whisper, yet you hear him as clear as day. The thought of leaving his side had never once crossed your mind, not when you were both younger, still learning about the ever-changing threats awaiting you and certainly not now those threats are long gone. You have both earned this peace and you are sure as hell going to enjoy it.

You gently shake your head, clearing your thoughts as you move forward to place small kisses along his jaw, “I know, but let me take care of you tonight, hmm?”

You don’t get to hear his reply, the words caught in his throat when you move lower, leaving a wet trail of kisses down his neck and across his chest. You trace the chiselled plains of his chest with your slender hand while your mouth follows closely behind. You smirk when you feel his stomach flex once your hand reaches the waistband of his trousers. His grey eyes follow your every movement as you lower yourself on the ground before him, parting his legs to give you more space.

His eyes burn into you when you lift your gaze to search his and you have to bite back a grin once you spot the way his ears flush, now hellbent on making sure his flustered state grows even more. You carefully undo the clasp holding the dark material together before dragging them off his body at a painfully slow rate, revelling in the way he lets out a frustrated grunt. You can feel him stare you down, his gaze heavy on you, but you are far too distracted by the tent forming in his boxers.

When you look at him once more, he quirks an eyebrow, whatever bout of insecurity he might have had has since faded, replaced with pure desire and control as he watches you like a hawk. You instead turn your head, kissing along his inner thigh and smirking when you feel him tense under your light touches. His skin is hot beneath your lips and you leave a trail of goosebumps behind with each kiss, Levi lets out a small hiss when you nip at the tender flesh before smoothing it over with your tongue.

Having enough of your slow admiration of his alabaster flesh, now painted with delicate love bites, you feel his hand cup your jaw and raise your head once more. His eyes are dark as he brushes your lips again, but this time you feel his finger part your lips with a knowing look. Your tongue wraps around his finger, not once averting your eyes as you continue to suck on his finger while Levi does his best to bite back a groan.

“Gods…” His voice comes out strained as he tries to hold back, trying to hold onto what little control he has left. He swallows roughly, anticipation flowing through him as he grips the sheets below with his other hand.

He watches you carefully while you continue your advancement up his thigh with your deft fingers, coming to palm at his clothed erection, his chest is rising and falling heavily and he quickly removes his fingers from your mouth before rushing to remove the annoying material currently in your way. His stiff cock springs free, precum glistening along his tip, and you waste no time.

You place another tender kiss on his tip before swirling your tongue around it and licking small stripes along the slit, drawing a long groan out of him. With a small giggle, one which earns you an exasperated eye roll, you move to the base of his shaft, slowly dragging your tongue up along it before parting your lips and finally guiding his cock into your mouth. You hear a sharp hiss from above as Levi’s hand comes to rest on your head, his fingers are tense as he tangles them in your hair.

You happily bob your head, swirling your tongue around his shaft before following the veins of his flesh with the tip of your tongue, rewarding you with a chorus of swears erupting from Levi’s lips. You then swap to flatten your tongue against him, sinking him deeper into your throat with each thrust of your head until you can feel the tip pressing against the back of your throat. You glide your hands over his thighs and up towards his hips, holding them in place when you feel his composure begin to slip.

“F-fuck, don’t stop,” he moans your name, the sound broken by his harsh panting as he rolls his head back, struggling to stay upright as you continue to work on him.

You give a small hum in response which earns you an even deeper moan as the vibrations help to overstimulate him, you pull your head back when you feel his hips begin to twitch, the fingers in your hair tightening. More swears spill from him when you descend once more, your tongue working him more and more until his breathing is nothing more than frantic gasps.

“Shit,” Your name is consumed by a shuddered groan, bringing a devilish smirk to your busy lips, “I’m gonna…”

Levi brings a fist to his mouth, biting down on it to stifle his frenzy of shudders as he comes, the thick liquid running down your throat as you swallow around him. You release him with a small pop, taking a different form of pleasure from the state you’ve left him in. He collapses onto his back and pants heavily with one arm draped over his fully flushed face. You watch his chest rise and fall while you wipe your mouth before crawling over the bed to lie beside him.

He doesn’t hesitate to roll over and pull you into his arms, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck while he recovers from your onslaught. After a small time spent within his embrace, the two of you existing as one, he lifts his head to look down at you and you can spot the small rosy hue still decorating his cheeks.

“That’s not what I was expecting tonight.” His deadpan voice brings a bubble of laughter out of you and you shift positions, turning to have your back pressed against his warm chest, your head resting against his arm that’s now being used as your makeshift pillow. You feel his other arm wrap around your waist, holding you tightly, as if you would float away should he let go and snap him out of a dream. You give his forearm a light squeeze before rubbing small circles into his skin.

“You should know by now, I’m full of surprises.”

You’re not sure if it was even possible for his features to soften more than before, yet he always finds a way to prove you wrong. He looks at you as if you’re his world and you’re certain both of you wouldn’t mind if you could just hide away together, alone within your private little sanctuary of linen and silk, safe from the ghosts following you.

His voice, now laced with pleasant exhaustion, causes your lips to twitch with a content smile, “I’ll make it up to you.”

He lets out a small yawn and you feel him place a soft kiss on the top of your head, shifting slightly to regain feeling in his arm that is still being used in favour of the dozens of pillows you had argued were necessary. A calm, sleepy silence fills the room and you feel him drift off behind you, his breathing coming out in slow and steady puffs against your neck. You feel your own eyes grow heavy, the warm emitting from his body helping to lull you off into your own slumber.

#♥. writing #♥. spice #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #aot x reader #levi ackerman x you #captain levi #aot levi #captain levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot #snk

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llamagoddessofficial · 1 year ago

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Okay, but can you Aggre/ the cryptid boyfriends?

The boys are cryptids who live together for convenience's sake. Mc moves in with her three very normal, very Not Unusual roommates, who definitely are not at all strange or bizarre or dangerous.

Sans: A close friend of Mc's that used every trick in the book to slide into her life. He's good at studying people, good at mimicking acceptable behaviours- so good, in fact, that all of his slightly stranger qualities are passed off as just Sans being weird. One time he mistook a ketchup bottle for a drinking bottle, and downed the whole thing, but everyone just thought he was doing a bit so everyone just laughed. When he acts bizarre, it's simply Sans being Sans. The others could reveal they're cryptids and Mc would still think Sans was the odd one out.

He seems so normal, so funny. But he's been her cryptid for a long time, following her, absorbing her interests and tastes in partners to try and win her over. He's playing the long game- and it's working. He acts weird around her all the time and she's just accepted he's Like That. She's even somewhat honoured by the fact that he feels relaxed enough around her to be weird; he brings out the weirdness in her too. They're weird buddies.

He'd very casually tell her he can 'shapeshift'. But he'd be reluctant to show his true form- let alone reveal he's a cryptid.

Red: A serial flirt, popular and handsome, constantly out on the town. Unlike the other two, who need breaks every now and then, Red can hold a different form for days on end with only minor slip ups.

... Deep down, though, he's incredibly insecure about being a cryptid. He hates the way his cryptid body looks... the way it warps and frightens people, looking like he crawled right out of a nightmare, too much of some things and too little of others. 'Red' is his ideal body, a handsome badboy, the one who's surrounded by adoring humans. It's the only way he feels loveable.

He wants to be a person. He wants to be part of society, he wants to be loved like a human, that's why he constantly seeks out human flings and one night stands. To him, being in bed with someone signals that he's winning, and his act is convincing. He doesn't want Mc to ever know he's a cryptid, because in his eyes, nobody could ever love a thing like that.

Skull: He isn't good at acting like a person. He 'hides in his room' a lot, going out of his window at night to hunt and then returning to sleep through the day. At first, he just crushed on Mc from afar, silently following her around at night or peering through her window... but because of his feelings, because of her, he starts trying to be more humanoid.

He learns some words. He figures out how to eat human food. He practises 'smiling' in a mirror for hours, to make sure he doesn't look too frightening. And it can't be said that he isn't charming, a lot of his genuine struggles with acting like a person just come across as sweet-natured shyness or social anxiety. He pulls his hood over his face every time she smiles at him; a little because he's flustered, mostly because when he's flustered he loses control of his face and his features start shifting and melting in disturbing ways.

Mc likes him a lot. She's none the wiser that he's the reason she feels those chills running up her spine whenever she passes the woods.

#llamagines #cryptid boyfriends au

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mikimakiboo · 26 days ago

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Time Travelers AU - Researches

You guys seemed to like the first part so here we go again :) not much action yet, I know, Dust is still trying to figure out what to do with them :')

Prev (and first part)

@ancha-aus summoning you real quick

@crazy-snake you wanted to be tagged sooooo here you go

Dust was on his laptop, trying to make some researches about these four mysterious time travelers, trying to learn some things about their cultures, to get an idea of what he should be prepared for. They already ate, Dust having decided to make some pasta, and just with that he had already been met with various looks of confusion and suspicion: out of the four, only Cross and Nightmare knew what pasta were, and while Dust wasn't very surprised by that, he had been a lot more confused when the only one who knew how to use a fork, or simply what a fork was, had been Nightmare, the others preferring to use a spoon or even their fingers, which earned them some disgusted looks from the noble, that, for once, Dust could quite agree with. After a quick Google research on his phone, Dust had learnt that forks hadn't been introduced in the Roman Empire until the fourth century and in France in 1533, while vikings usually used either knives, spoons, or their fingers, but no forks. After that, Dust figured it might be a good idea to make some more researches...

He watched them from his chair, to make sure they weren't destroying his house. Cross was standing guard in front of his door, not moving an inch, Killer had miraculously stopped rummaging in his drawers to stare in wonder at a lava lamp instead, and Nightmare was sitting on the couch. Dust had given him his reading tablet that he got from work as a gift, having found a French book from 1532 by François Rabelais, right before forks were imported, titled Pantagruel. Nightmare had been.. reluctant to take the tablet, watching Dust showing him how to scroll up and down, he had however seemed quite curious about it when he had seen the French writing, and had agreed on taking it "car il n'y a bien que cela à faire ici". Dust wasn't sure what that meant, but he was pretty sure it was an excuse so it didn't seem like the noble was just curious but rather didn't have a choice. Horror was looking through the window when he finally let out a sigh and went to sit on the couch as well, making the mattress sag under his weight. Nightmare looked up for the tablet to frown at the viking, and shifted away from him, against the armrest, to which Horror frowned too. Dust watched these two interact, he watched Horror grab Nightmare's cape to feel the texture and Nightmare slapping his hand away to take back the cape, Horror holding out his hands as a peace sign. He would probably have to watch them closely, make sure they didn't get on each other's nerves.

Dust was in the middle of reading a Wikipedia article when he was interrupted by Nightmare.

- Dust ? Vôtre, uh.. parchemin magique.. ? Est terminé.

He recognized the word "terminé", as it sounded like "terminate", and guessed that Nightmare must have finished the book, which was frankly impressive because it had nearly four hundred pages and he gave it to him not three hours ago.

- Uh.. okay.. ? You, uh.. want to read another book ? I can look if there's any other.

Nightmare didn't respond, frowning slightly. Right, Dust's phone was charging, so he didn't have Google Translate turned on. He tried to think of the translation for book, he had used it when presenting the tablet to the noble, surely he didn't forget it so fast.

- Uh.. autre.. livre.. ?

He said, with a bad accent, but Nightmare seemed to understand as he slowly looked down at the tablet, seeming perplexed, surely wondering how Dust was going to pull a book from something that looked like a weird parchment, or just how long was said parchment. Dust stood up to grab the tablet from Nightmare's hands who looked up at him, he searched for a few seconds before handing him the tablet again, this time opened on a book titled Gargantua, a prequel of Pantagruel by the same author, from 1534, one year after forks were imported. Nightmare shot him a suspicious look before taking the tablet and starting to read again. At least this one was easily occupied.

Horror bent over, trying to see above Nightmare's shoulder, which only made him flinch and shift away from the viking, pressing the tablet against his chest as to prevent him from taking it away.

- Ne vous approchez pas de moi !

He said with a tone that he wanted threatening, but his voice just sounded afraid. Horror frowned at him.

- Hey, no fights. I don't have enough money to replace furniture.

Horror looked up at him, sitting straight, but before he could say anything a sword was between them. Cross had moved from the door. He glared at Horror.

- Eo vos conseilloie de rester asis.

They both stared at each other before Horror huffed, sitting on the other end of the couch again. Cross quickly glanced at Dust before focusing on Nightmare.

- Allez-vos tresbien, Sire ?

Nightmare looked at him before nodding, sitting straight too after having shot a last look at Horror who was now looking through the bay window of the backyard, not paying attention to them anymore. Cross put his sword away and returned to the door, ignoring Killer who had been watching the whole scene.

- Si vis pugnare, possum servare score.

He said with a sharp smile and amusement in his voice. Nightmare glanced at him.

- Sine me pugna, lego. Et desine obstrepere.

Killer chuckled, and turned his attention back to the lamp, letting Nightmare go back to his reading.

Okay what just happened ? Dust hadn't moved, he hadn't understood a word of what they all said, but apparently the situation had been sorted out ? After they almost started to fight ?

He should really try to learn at least the basics of their languages. But which one should he start with ? Probably French and Old Norse, because no one here seemed to speak Old Norse so he couldn't count on them to translate, and Nightmare could help him with Latin and Old French, so focusing on French first would be easier, and maybe he could pick out some words from Latin in the process ? He should have taken French in school instead of Spanish.

Dust returned to his seat, searching once more for some helpful websites with tips to learns the basics of French and Old Norse. He only found dictionaries for the latter.

- ᚹᚺᛖᚱᛖ ᛞᛟ ᚹᛖ ᛋᛚᛖᚨᛈ ?

Dust had been in the middle of reading the dictionary when he almost jumped from his chair, not having noticed that Horror was now next to him. He was surprisingly quiet.

- Huh ?

Horror looked at him, frowned, understood that Dust didn't get what he said, and pointed at the window for Dust to take a look. It was night, the moon was high, and the clock on the wall said it was past one in the morning already. Right, they probably wanted to sleep.

But where would they sleep ? Dust only had one bed and one couch, no air mattresses, no extra mattresses either, and just a few extra pillows. He thought for a while, he couldn't share his bed, and he didn't particularly want to anyway, the couch could maybe hold two people on it but he doubted anyone would want to sleep this close to one another, so that left the floor, and the deckchairs he had in his backyard. Didn't vikings sleep outside anyway ?

Dust made a quick research and looked at Nightmare who had apparently finished his second book as the tablet was resting next to him on the couch.

- Hum.. dormir.. ?

Killer, Cross and Nightmare all looked at him. Well, seemed like "sleep" sounded the same in the three languages.

- Ubi ?

Killer asked, a question to which Dust didn't have the answer because he didn't know what ubi meant. He went on Google again, looking at the French translation for "where do you want to sleep".

- Où voulez.. vous dormir.. ?

He looked at Nightmare next, pointing at Killer to silently ask him to translate for him. Nightmare sighed, annoyed to be an intermediary, but still translated.

- Ubi vis dormire ?

Killer looked around for a second before answering.

- Ad angulum parietis.

Nightmare looked at him with surprise, frowning and tilting his head as if he just heard some big nonsense, but before Dust could ask what Killer had answered he saw him crossing the living room to go sit on the floor against the angle of the wall. Strange. But he seemed pleased. Dust kept staring for a few seconds before focusing on Cross and Nightmare again, waiting for their response. Nightmare was looking at the couch, that he didn't leave during all the evening to the point Dust wondered if it had become a sort of safe place for him, and simply sighed before rearranging the pillows. Seemed like the noble was going to sleep here tonight. Cross however stayed planted in front of the door, so Dust asked again.

- Dormir ?

- Eo ne poez dormir, eo doi monter la warde.

Dust didn't understand, but judging by the fact the knight didn't move, he figured that it a least meant he would stay by the door.

Dust then turned to Horror as he was the last one not having answered. He asked the question again, this time typing on his computer and showing him the translation as he didn't know how to pronounce it. Horror looked in wonder at the screen for a few seconds before focusing on reading, bending down a little, before standing up again and going to the bay window. He pointed at the backyard as he looked at Dust.

- Oh you want to sleep outside ? Sure, as long as you stay in the backyard.

Dust got up to open the door for him, going out with him to put a deckchair in place in case he wanted to use it.

Horror inspected it before nodding and giving Dust a pat on the shoulder. At least he wanted it to be a pat but the small skeleton was so light compared to his usual companions that he actually pushed him on the chair, much to Dust's surprise who looked up at him from where he was now laying. Horror looked guilty.

- Uh, i-it's okay, I'm fine, just.. didn't expect that.

He quickly reassured as he got up.

- Damn you're strong.

He muttered.

- ... ᛈᚨᚱᛞᛟᚾ.

Horror said, looking down. That sounded like an apology.

- It's okay, really, uh.. well.. sleep good ?

He gave him thumbs ups before quickly going back inside before the situation became more awkward.

Well, seemed like everyone was settled for the night, so Dust could go in his own room and get prepared for bed too. He had a day off the next day, he was originally planning to rest but that option was off the chart now.

He sighed and let his body collapse on his bed. He just hoped his apartment wouldn't be a mess in the morning. And that maybe they would dissappear too and this whole experience would turn out to be a big dream...

A very strange big dream...

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captain-joongz · 1 month ago

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here's first of the bigger requests that came through during the hard hours, my dear ✨ anonie, i hope you enjoy your piece! <3

LOSE TO WIN

warnings: bdsm dynamics, mistress kink, spanking, humiliation and praise, strap on usage, strap on deep-throating, coming untouched, anal fingering, pegging, rough handling, rough sex, orgasm denial, face slapping, riding

word count: 3.9k

Minho wasn't the kind of person you'd expect to get into trouble. He was smart. Sly. Always had a comeback, always knew how to get himself out of hot water. But he was also impulsive, hot-blooded and stubborn. He knew that about himself, maybe better than anyone else.

And he was incredibly competitive. So maybe that's why his plan was such a bad idea.

I mean, of course his friends would try to persuade him to not go to a casino, unless they were shitty no one would encourage their friend to go gamble, but Minho wouldn't listen - of course he wouldn't.

He didn't begin to understand why it was such a bad idea for him specifically to go until he was sitting at the poker table with a terrible hand of cards and no way to lie himself out of it.

People tend to do stupid things when they get their first big paycheck - buy a car they don't need, spend it on clothes or stupid investments. Going to a casino might be the stupidest though, not that the man would admit that, even as his beginner's luck shifted and the tide turned.

Winning a nice sum in the first few rounds, he felt confident - he should stay, play more - he could double it, triple it, he could go home with three paychecks instead of one. He'd show his friends, he'd be the one laughing at them.

But then he started to lose. And it was not pretty.

He wasn't sure how it worked in casinos, but when he was discreetly offered more chips to have a chance to win his money back, he didn't think to stop and ask where they came from or what the consequences were - he just needed a chance to win and then he'd leave. That was all, just one lucky hand and then this nightmare would be over.

When the last game ended, Minho was in a daze - it took him several long seconds to realise that he'd lost once more, and this time he was in deep shit. Not only his own money was gone, but now he owed someone.

He didn't notice you at all, eyeing him the whole evening and having a private laugh about how cutely clueless he was. It was so obviously his first time gambling, your trained eye could see it the second he stepped in the room. Oh, you'd just eat him up.

And now, watching the man sit there all miserable, head in hands as he came to terms with his situation, it was your prime opportunity to strike.

"First time?"

Minho looked up as soon as he heard the melodious voice, coming face to face with you dressed in a black expensive dress, hair and face all made up. At first glance he could tell you were someone important. And very, very rich.

"Um, y-yeah, sorry if I'm blocking the table." He moved as in to get up and leave, but you stopped him quickly and instead offered him a cigarette. Minho threw a nervous glance at the security guys, but they didn't seem bothered by anything you were doing, so he accepted. Of course, what he didn't know was that as the owner's daughter you had free range to do pretty much anything, and they knew better than to interfere when you were hunting.

"I can pay it for you," you offered easily, playing with the packet in your hands while Minho choked his sorrows with nicotine. He startled and you had to suppress a satisfied smirk. This would be so much fun, you couldn't wait to ruin him.

"N-no, that's fine. I'm fine." So he was still deep in denial, huh. You leaned closer and plucked the cigarette out of his hands, taking a drag yourself. You saw his eyes glued to your lips, shock and interest mixing in his brown irises.

"Look, boy, I'm going to be honest with you," you started, spinning your soft web, "you're fucked, spectacularly so might I add. If you try to leave now, you'll end up in some really mean people's hands. I can pay your debt and trust me, I'm much nicer when it comes to paying back." Minho looked like he didn't trust your words one bit, but that's what's nice about desperation - it makes you do things even if you know you shouldn't.

It was all reflected right there in his eyes. You knew you had him, he only had to stop running away from it.

"What would you want in return?" he asked hesitantly and you grinned. What a smart boy, knowing you weren't after money.

"One night, you listen to my every word," you said confidently, "be a good little toy for me."

You saw him shudder before he attempted to school his features into a look of carefully constructed disgust, but you knew. You really hit jackpot with this one, no pun intended.

He sat there in silence for a little while and you let him. He had to come to terms with reality and realise you were offering him the only way out, you would not interfere with that - he had to do that all on his own.

Minho knew he was stupid and got himself into trouble. For the first time in a really long time he couldn't come up with a way to get out of this - he desperately wracked his brain for any solutions while you sat next to him and inspected your nails like a shark waiting for the fish to crawl up all the way in his mouth.

But really, how bad could it really be? He'd just fuck you and he'd be okay, it was definitely the better option than getting beaten up by loansharks. It would be easy, right? He was pretty good in bed, so he had the confidence he could pleasure you and then you'd let him go and everything would be okay. Easy peasy.

He nodded. You grinned. Bad premonition filled his stomach.

Minho cried out when another hit landed on his exposed thighs, your hand then gently caressing the reddening sensitive skin there. There were tears brimming in his eyes, the burn of the impact turning him needy and whiney.

You didn't waste any time after you dragged him off into a hotel room, immediately ordering him to pull his trousers down and bend over the edge of the bed. You yourself dragged a chair over and sat down, face level with his perky underwear clad ass. He needed a punishment, that's what you said, and he was maybe starting to agree.

"Will this teach you not to be such a dumb boy? Maybe I can fuck some common sense into that pretty head of yours, huh?" You teased and taunted, delivering sharp words after each spank until Minho's head was swimming and he couldn't see through tears, biting his lips to stop all the pitiful whimpers from spilling out of his mouth.

But even though he didn't know what to think of this, his body has made up its mind already - he could feel his cock hanging between his legs, so hard it hurt, but ignored and useless. He attempted to sneakily touch himself a few minutes ago, only to get another hard hit and the sharp words "hands where I can see them, boy!", so now he didn't try anymore.

Everything was kind of fuzzy and he couldn't even tell up from down, but fuck, he didn't want to stop, and that scared him. Right now he'd probably let you do about anything to him.

"What do you think, have you learnt your lesson?" Your condescending words broke him out of his haze, but he could only pitifully whine, realising just how much his knees were shaking, close to buckling under his weight. You'd stopped your punishment, but he still felt the phantom sting of your previous smacks.

"Well alright then. Take off the rest of your clothes and sit down on the bed." Embarrassingly enough, Minho wanted to scramble to follow your order, but his limbs just wouldn't cooperate, so he sluggishly turned and fought his shirt off while you sat in your chair silently and watched.

You waited until he was done and sitting down before you came to him, standing in front of him and taking in the state of him. And what a vision he made with his red eyes, tear tracks over his cheeks and lips bitten raw, all crimson and swollen. The once proud and cocky expression he wore during the game now changed into neediness and desperation. And that's what you liked to see.

His lips in particular caught your attention, and you found yourself tracing them with your thumb, mesmerised.

"Fuck, I kinda really want to fuck your throat..." You only mused that out loud, muttering it into the charged air between you, but the absolutely wrecked needy sound that escaped Minho's mouth surprised you both, judging by the blush suddenly spreading down his neck.

"Oh? You like that? Well, who am I to ruin your fun.."

You walked over to one of the huge built in closets, pulling a big box out and gingerly going through its contents. Minho saw glimpses of various sex toys and other kink related objects, and he decided he really didn't want to know why you had that here. Some things were better left unquestioned. And he wasn't even sure whether you'd like being questioned. He desperately didn't want to displease you.

When you found what you were looking for, you pulled it out with an exclamation of victory and finally let Minho see what he apparently asked for - a harness and a strap on dildo - huge, veiny and deep purple. He shuddered, and though he'd like to lie to himself and say it was apprehension, the way his dick jumped upon seeing it spoke a different story.

You had to take your dress off to put it on, and the vision of you in only your black lacy underwear, black heels and the strap on harness did something to Minho's brain. You just simply gestured to the ground by your feet, face curled into a beastly grin.

"Kneel."

And as simple as that, he was on the ground in front of you so fast he might have had carpet burns. You laughed at him, like he was pathetic. He felt pathetic, with his mouth already watering and filling with drool, jaw clenched because otherwise he'd already have it wide open, and he squirmed under your domineering eyes.

You grabbed him by his chin, gently, turning his face up and guiding his lips towards the tip of your dildo. "If you need to stop, tap my leg twice like this." You demonstrated and he nodded, hesitantly letting his lips kiss the cold silicone.

Minho had tried it with boys before, and he wasn't against it, but he'd never sucked a cock in his life, and he had no idea what to do, so he started slow. You didn't seem to mind, eyes keenly watching him as he licked the toy and kissed along it softly, familiarising himself with the veins and ridges. Your hand stayed on his face, holding him in place and gently guiding him.

But of course your patience would run out at some point, and soon your hand pulled him onto the dick, sliding it between his lips and teasingly always thrusting a little deeper, until it was kissing his throat and making him gag. This repeated a few times - you'd slide in, he'd gag and you'd pull out to give him a little break, until you took matters into your own hands - quite literally.

Grabbing his head, you took control of his movements, guiding him in a smooth motion.

"Don't panic, relax your throat," your words rang out and Minho fought to follow your instructions, eyes full of overwhelmed tears, "breathe through your nose. Deep breaths. There you go."

You felt his his throat relax, sliding in a little further - and Minho choked. But this time it was a good sound, all nicely wrapped up in a tiny moan, and you groaned in answer, thrusting a little harder the next time.

His face screwed into one of pleasure and you saw his thighs clench, mouth suddenly hungrily chasing after you every time you pulled out. You pumped your hips rhythmically, growing breathless as you watched him moan and choke on it, with every thrust taking a little more until his face was pressed into the leather of harness, gurgly moans slipping out.

It was enough to drive a saint mad.

And Minho loved it - you could see it in the way his red cock jumped and twitched, throbbing in his lap like it was about to burst without a single touch. You felt your own pussy, so wet and empty, squeezing and clenching around nothing while you guided Minho's pretty face to choke on your cock.

"Fuck, wish I could feel your throat, bet it's so fucking good," you groaned out breathlessly, picking up pace and roughly slamming in, Minho's eyes rolling back into his skull as he took it, fingers helplessly digging into the meat of your thighs.

You should have seen the warning signs, but truly you didn't think he'd be capable of something like that - when his moans doubled in frequence, growing higher, more desperate, more whimpery, his hips jumping abortedly as his cock throbbed and twitched with rising intensity, you thought nothing of it, enjoying the view of his face covered in tears and drool, cock slipping in and out of his mouth.

You thought nothing of it until suddenly Minho was cumming with a high-pitched raspy moan, cock spurting out thick streaks of jizz all over his stomach and thighs. You pulled out in shock, eyes appreciatively flying over the scene, over his fucked out ruined face and body covered in white as he panted with laboured breaths.

"Mistress..." he rasped out, voice all gone and scratchy, and your pussy throbbed so hard you were worried you might cum too. Instead you steeled yourself and smirked again.

"What a naughty boy you are, did I say you could do that?" Minho didn't seem to have much brain power to come up with an answer and he only whined, tired body winding down. "Get on the bed."

He still faithfully obeyed your commands, dragging himself to the king sized bed and dropping down like he was dead. Crawling in behind him, you signalled for him to turn over on his stomach and he did.

His ass and thighs were still a little red from earlier, and when you touched the skin, he jolted a little, whimpers falling into a pillow.

"Well, Mistress has to punish you now, again" you tsked at him, hand reaching for a bottle of lube and condoms standing on the nightstand. Pulling one over your fingers and warming some of the smooth liquid, you carefully reached down between his cheeks, running softly over the puckered rim and pushing on it. You would have been worried about his reaction, had it not been for the immediate groan tumbling out of his lips as his hips jerked into your fingers, back arching and begging for more.

"What a naughty boy you are indeed," you whispered, giggling in amazement. You truly found a gem tonight.

His hole had a little resistance to it, but with careful smooth movements you quickly slipped in, stretching him out on two fingers. You chose a slow sensual pace, winding him up again, pouring some fire back into his veins. You heard his breathy little sighs, hips moving in a rhythm with your fingers, rolling in little circles and slowly working them in deeper and deeper.

Once they slipped all in and you started up a faster pace, the sighs turned into pleased little moans, those that spoke of a complete satisfaction of having been filled up and fucked open, and you salivated at the prospect of fucking him soon. And when you managed to curl your fingers just right, hitting his prostate and punching out a loud moan out of him, your head almost spun with lust.

Minho took three of your fingers like a champ, rocking back onto them and trying to subtly grind his already hard again cock into the sheets - and you let him, even though he probably thought you didn't know. Soon he wouldn't have such a luxury anyway, so what's a few cheeky rubs now.

"Such a slut, I really had no idea who I stumbled upon, huh?" you teased some more, fucking your fingers in roughly and massaging his walls in a way you knew drove him crazy. His hips never stilled for a moment, chasing his pleasure mindlessly as he drooled into the white bedding.

"Don't worry baby, Mistress will fuck you good," you murmured, pulling out and ignoring his needy panicked whines at losing the stimulation.

Without losing a second you immediately reached over to get another condom, getting your cock all nice and wet and ready. Giving his ass cheek one last smack, you angled your hips and pushed in mercilessly.

The cock went in easy, his hole all nice stretched and covered in lube, and the reaction from Minho was instantaneous. You felt him tense underneath you, a little pained whimper falling out of his lips just as he pushed back hungrily and pulling you deeper inside.

You understood what he wanted perfectly, and wasted no second giving it to him just right. Pulling back, you thrusted back in forcefully, punching out a pained moan out of the man.

You set a ruthless pace, pounding into him and angling your cock just right to smack right into his prostate on every stroke. Minho cried and screamed underneath you, keeping his hips still and presenting for you like a bitch in heat, hungrily taking all the aching pleasure.

"H-hurts...!" he moaned into the pillow even as his hips shook with how much he strained them to be able to take more.

"Hurts? Does it baby?" you entertained him, smirking behind him.

"So- so goo-" he got choked up on a groan, drool shining on his chin, "it's so good! More!"

"Demanding, aren't you baby?" you mused out loud, slowing down so you could pound into him harder, "but you have to be a good boy and not cum until I tell you to."

You felt how his body immediately tensed under yours with the overflow of pleasure, and he sagged into the bed, only letting out content whimpers as you continued the tempo.

You yourself were growing breathless, the fucking taking a toll on you as well - you were better at controlling yourself, but the way the harness pressed into your clit with every movement, sliding with all the slick you produced, your own arousal was slowly growing to crescendo.

Minho shook under you, his whole body taut and hands helplessly grabbing onto anything he could reach.

"Please! I wanna cum! Please!" his voice was all raspy with desperation, hips jumping back into yours. You tsked at him loudly between quiet moans, one hand going to spank him again.

You knew it wasn't fair, especially not when he jerked underneath you with a debauched groan, desperation growing tenfold in him.

"Please! Mistress!" for a few more thrusts those were the only words that slipped out of him, an endless repeat of cries and pleading.

"Can you be a good boy? Can you listen?" you taunted again, sweat rolling down your body, hands slipping on his skin with the perspiration. You were so close, you needed to cum so bad.

"Yes! Yes!" he chanted, and he really took it well. You fucked forward a few more times, aiming to give more pressure on his prostate - and when Minho flailed under you with tortured groans, but still didn't cum, you decided to take mercy on him.

Movements tinged with your own desperation, you quickly pulled out and tore yourself out of the harness, stepping out of your panties as well in the process.

Minho was desperately whining on the bed, hips still in the air and begging for more, but you grabbed him and manhandled him onto his back, in rush putting a condom on for him before you mounted him and sunk on his cock, a pleased sigh leaving your lips while Minho cried with overstimulation and denied pleasure.

You felt how his entire body trembled, freezing every time you moved your hips, eyes wide and wet with tears.

Your lust catching up to you, you couldn't help yourself and ride him with reckless abandon, just chasing your pleasure and using him like your own fuck toy while he thrashed on the bed, hips chasing after your wet heat and inaudible nonsense spilling out of his red lips.

"Go on baby," you gritted out between breathless sighs and groans, "take what you need." You were so close you could almost taste your orgasm on your tongue.

But instead of cumming immeadiately as you expected him to do, Minho only cried harder underneath you, incomprehensible pleading filling the room.

"Hit- hit me! Please Mistress, hit me!"

To say you were shocked would be an understatement, but you couldn't hide how your cunt clenched on his cock at his demands, and you reached behind to caress the back of his thighs again, only to be stopped once more.

Minho grabbed your hand and without any preamble pulled it to his face, big begging eyes watching you bounce on his cock. The groan that spilled out of your mouth was absolutely beastly and you clenched on his cock so hard you both almost came.

But who were you to deny him?

Caressing his cheek briefly, you pulled back and delivered a sharp slap, watching his face screw up with pleasure, cock throbbing almost violently, so close to bursting.

It only took one more before Minho was arching under you, crying out as his cock twitched and throbbed inside you, spilling into the condom.

Watching his face bleed into ecstasy and feeling his orgasm so viscerally, hearing his blissed out cries, you felt yourself clench and then you were cumming on his cock as well, riding out your orgasm on his cock as the pleasure consumed you from inside.

Your bodies jerked together for a few more moments, lust riddled brains savouring every second of the liquid ecstasy flowing through your veins, before you slid down to the bed to his side, attempting to catch your breath.

The last thing Minho remembered were your soft whispers of praises you pressed into his naked skin with gentle kisses.

You smiled and let him, seeing no reason in waking him up. After all, he didn't have to hear you settle everything with the casino, letting them know that there was no debt to settle cause the money he lost was yours all along. He didn't need to know the truth.

When Minho limped home the next day, covered in bruises, back hurting like crazy but muscles slack in a way that only good sex could facilitate, he couldn't even look into his friends' eyes with shame.

Of course they were worried for him - he looked terrible and they could see the little winces he did with every fast movement. He looked like he'd gotten beaten up after losing all his money.

And Minho would let them believe that, until the end of his life. They didn't need to know the truth.

divider by @cafekitsune

#hard hours #skz hard hours #skz smut #lee know smut #stray kids smut

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grandlinedreams · 1 year ago

Note

ok ok if you don’t mind more requests…. law definitely gets nightmares from time to time, so i’d like to see your ideas on how reader would treat his insomnia. thanks again ❤️

Hiya papaya!! He absolutely does with everything he's been through :(( but i hope this is to your liking!!

He's still awake.

You can see the golden glow of light seeping from beneath the door to his room, your heart sinking. This is the third day in a row. Part of you wonders if he's simply fallen asleep with the light on, but you know better than that.

Determined to do something for him, you turn on your heel and make your way to the small kitchen, mindful not to make too much noise as you gather what you need.

It's quiet as you work, the kind of peaceful stillness that accompanies nightfall even present deep below the ocean's surface. Mindful to catch the kettle before it whistles, you deftly pour the boiling water into the pair of mugs, humming as you do so.

It's after a moment of pause that you retrieve the little box you've squirreled away in one of the cabinets, away from curious eyes and sneaky hands.

Your supplies carefully balanced on a tray you've managed to find, you make your way back to Law's room. "Captain? Can I come in?"

It takes Law a minute to respond, and you adjust your grip on the tray to nudge the door open with your hip and stepping inside. The room has a comfortable disarray to it, your eyes drifting over the familiar coat he's discarded onto a chair, as well as his hat.

"Is something wrong?" Law is at his desk, back to you and head propped in one hand, the other skimming over a book. A text book ㅡ one of the new ones he'd picked up at the latest supply stop.

"Not exactly," you say, moving to set one of the mugs down on his desk. "Unless you consider the fact that you haven't slept in three days a problem, which I do."

Law's hand stills against the book, and he lifts his head. "You've been counting?"

Your smile is wry. "Hard not to." You gesture to the tea. "It's chamomile. Wasn't sure if you liked honey or anything, so it's just as is."

Law reaches for the mug, halting as he notices the second one. "You think I'm going to drink two?"

"No, that one's for me." He frowns, brow knitting, and you hold your hand up before his lips can part around a protest. "If you're going to stay up, I'll stay up with you." You hand him the little lacquered box. "I even brought this to share."

Attention leaving the book completely, Law inspects the box before opening the lid and examining the contents. "What is it?"

"Sweets from my home island," you explain. "Feel honored, I don't share them with just anyone."

His brow knits. "Then you shouldn't share them with me."

"There's a lot I shouldn't do," you counter, "but sharing food with you isn't one of them." He still hesitates, and you frown. "They're not poisoned or anything..."

That prompts Law to pick one up, giving it another brief inspection before he finally places it in his mouth. You watch as he chews slowly, waiting for his reaction. With as (justifiably) particular as he is about food, you know that this can go one of two ways.

Luckily, his expression doesn't shift to disgust ㅡ instead, he looks almost thoughtful. "It's good."

You grin. "See? Told you."

Watching him take another piece, you allow your gaze to drift over his face. The shadows beneath his eyes are always present even when he does sleep, but they're darker than you've ever seen them, and it only makes the worry grow. Reaching for your own mug of tea, you let the warmth seep into your palms before you speak. "I don't want to overstep boundaries, but...if you need someone to talk to, I'm a good listener."

Law stills, setting the box down on his desk and for a moment, you're almost certain he's going to kick you out of his room. You shouldn't be here in the first place, given how it'll look if one of the others catches you leaving at this sort of hour ㅡ but after a moment, Law sighs.

"It's not anything you should worry yourself about," he says. "You should go to bed." When you don't move, he frowns. "[Name]."

You take a sip of your tea. "Sorry Captain," you say, "but I'm not going to do that. We don't have to talk if you don't want to, but I'm also not going to leave, either." Striding towards the bookcase, you pluck one off the shelf.

Law watches as you clear the chair of his jacket and hat and knows he should undoubtedly say something because he's your Captain and there are quite a few boundaries that you're breaching at the moment, but he doesn't. Your tenacity is one of the things he admires you for, after all. "Fine, do what you want. But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Fine by me," you say cheerfully. And with that, you tuck yourself into the chair and open the book. Law watches you for a moment before he rolls his eyes good naturedly and returns his attention to his own.

You're awake every time he sneaks a glance, trying not to let his eyes linger on the quiet intensity of your face as you read, body curled in a position that looks neither comfortable nor good for your spine. But it's still somehow innately you, prompting the curve of a fond, tiny smile on his lips.

It's that growing fondness for you that worries him. Not only for what it could do to your relationship as it already is, but the sentence he feels it'll doom you to. After all, he doesn't deserve the kind of tender happiness that you invite with your smile and infinite kindness, afraid to dim that light that you radiate. It's better if he shoves it down, buries it under what he needs to do as a Captain rather than what he wants.

It's the ache of his own back that finally prompts him to find a stopping point in his book, arms stretched over his head with a quiet groan as he registers the bone-deep exhaustion that weighs his body down. He's exhausted, he knows that ㅡ but sleep so often eludes him, chased off by a mixture of his own thoughts and memories, warped into nightmares that he'd rather not face.

"Time for bed, [Name]," he says and frowns when he doesn't get a response. "Hey, are you listening? Iㅡ" He stops.

You're asleep.

He's not sure when you drifted off, book propped open on your chest and your head tipped back, chest rising and falling with the slow and easy rhythm of sleep. You don't stir when he approaches, unaware of his presence.

"Gonna stay up with me, huh." His voice is soft and amused as he plucks the book from your chest, bookmarking your spot before he sets it aside. He knows that he should carry you to your own bed in the crew bunkhouse. Or better yet, wake you up and make you go on your own ㅡ but he doesn't.

Instead, Law reaches to carefully lift you up, eyes on your face to catch any sign of you waking up as he carries you to his own bed. He's gentle as he lays you down, tugging the blankets up and around you before he hesitates, debating.

This time it's Law who breaches a boundary when he climbs into bed beside you, making himself comfortable before he rolls to face you. You've moved a little, hand curled near your face ㅡ and there goes that traitorous, dangerous movement of his heart.

"You're a problem," he murmurs, watching as if he expects you to answer ㅡ and as if he could ever mean it in anything more than the best way.

He lays there for a while, watches you breathe, the soft noises that you make ㅡ and then his eyes close. And for the first time in three days, laying beside you in a way that he's never allowed himself to entertain the idea of doing, Law sleeps.

And he sleeps well.

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous #finally able to get upstairs to my laptop where i won't screw up my own blog wlkejfadf #–ml: law.

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its-in-the-woods · 4 months ago

Text

Coyote Head - Part 6 - Postcard Perfect

master list

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Pairing: Cooper Howard x Lucy Maclean

Includes many other characters from Fallout

Synopsis: So much can happen in one morning. A picture perfect moment, and meeting with a ex.

MINOR GET OUT. Rating/Warning: Animal/people death,, Alternative Universe, Slow Burn, Death, Aging, Family Feuding, Older Man/Younger Woman

Note: that I will not be spoiling any of the reading. So you have been warned. I will keep my tags relevant without spoiling what is happening in the story.

*Actually pretty fluffy... for now.. enjoy

The next three days go by fast, cow checks happen every four hours, every day, like clockwork. Morning, afternoon, dinner, and then two overnight. Cooper handles the ones during daylight hours, his brother Mark handles the night ones. Lucy was grateful for that, not that she slept much, between nightmares and random knocks on the house. She’d kept most of that to herself, but Cooper had noticed, he noticed a lot of things. He'd even offered to do the first shift so she could sleep in, but she, of course, refused. The routine meant she got a moment out of the house, it also meant she got to hang out with the kids.

Matthias still wasn’t her biggest friend, but his guard was lowering slowly. On Friday, when Cooper brought the kids over after school, he had handed Lucy a drawing. For being twelve he was pretty talented. He’d taken the time to draw a field, cows, and calves with the sun setting in the background. Lucy had thanked him and promptly put it up on the fridge which granted her, her first real smile from him. She’d do anything to hug him, but for now, she’d take the picture. She knew what it felt like to be young and not understand why a parent was gone. To not understand why things had changed suddenly. Lucy was just grateful that he had Cooper, what she would have done to have had at least one parent with her. Even though she loved her Grandparents, it was never the same without either of her parents.

Janey was a whole different story, she loved to tell stories, and read stories. When she had discovered that she could read from Lucy’s bookshelves she was over the moon. Lucy doing her best to persuade her from anything too adult-themed. Settling on a classic, Hobbit. Cooper had shrugged in agreement, mentioning that she had always loved to read as soon as she learned. So Lucy let the copy go, the little girl was immediately taken by it.

Lucy woke up Saturday morning having finally slept, she actually felt somewhat refreshed. Her mind was always wandering to Cooper. The more time she spent with him, the more she wanted to spend time with him. Even though they were nearly living out of each other's pockets, she couldn't help herself. Mind wandering to what kissing him would feel like, how his hands would hold her. Lucy flushed and finished getting herself dressed in comfortable clothes and made her way to make a pot of coffee. Feeling her feet get wet as she walked into the water.

“What the-” Lucy cussed, as she lifts her foot to inspect a large pool of water. “Dang-nabbit.”

She runs back to her room digging out a handful of towels and toeing off her socks before running back to the kitchen. Lucy lays out the towels on the floor, scrambling to open up the under-sink cupboards. The various detergents and cleaners are thrown out as she tries to see what’s leaking. The space emptied, so she could see that the pipes had been split.

“My goodness, why!” Lucy grumbles, realizing that the pipes had split just on the other side of the shut-off valves.

She gets up too quickly and bangs her head on the underside of the sink. More words fall out of her mouth as she rubs the bump. Moving swiftly to the door she unlocks it and walks out, stepping around the rocks and stones as she goes to the side of the house. Swinging open the crawl space door she ducks in, happy that the water shut-off valve was inside. Lucy turns it off, her feet covered in the black mud as she stomps back into her house. Lucy closes her eyes for a moment to collect herself, before she starts to mop up the water that’s left on the floor.

“Lucy?” Cooper’s voice comes in from the doorway.

“Just in the kitchen,” Lucy replies, happy that help has finally arrived.

“What’s goin’ on?” Cooper says, placing his hat on a nob by the front door. Walking into the room to observe the mess that was spread out onto the floor.

Lucy sighs, as she drops the last towel into the sink. “The pipes under the sink burst, split just on the wrong side of the shut-off too.”

Cooper crouches right beside her, the smell of cigarettes and coffee wafting off of him. Lucy shuffled over so that he could see what they were working on.

“Well that’s weird,” Cooper squints, leaning forward to kneel on a rolled-up towel. “Never seen that happen before. Unless it froze, which would be odd for the beginnin’ of April.”

Lucy sighs, rubbing at her head, “Everything is insulated, and the heat tape is still on it. Plus it would have burst other pipes too.”

“Move’er, sweetheart,” Cooper murmurs, Lucy shifts over, as Cooper crawls into the cupboard pulling a pocket knife out of his pants.

Lucy swallowed as his shirt rode up a sliver of tanned skin being exposed. Lucy feeling like she was fourteen seeing a boy shirtless for the first time, averting her eyes she chooses to stand up. Looking around trying to figure out how to hide the flush that was now staining her cheeks as the man fiddled around under the sink.

“Do you want coffee?” Lucy asked moving over to the cupboard to dig out cups. “I got a spare to-go mug.”

“Yeah, s’good.” Cooper said, voice echoing from below her. “Do ya’know if you got some spare PEX pipe hanging around?”

A knock on the door, had Lucy spilling coffee on her hand, Cooper banged his head under the sink. A whole slew of curse words spilling out of both of them, Lucy moves to the door. Completely forgetting with the mess that Dane was coming over to work on the tractors.

“Lucy,” Dane says, a smile fading from their face as she takes in Lucy. “Oh, shit. Are you okay?”

Lucy tries to smile which turns into more of a frown, “Pipe burst. My kitchen is a mess, but I have coffee?”

Dane chuckles, looking into the kitchen Cooper standing with a pieces of Pex in his hand, his other hand rubbing at his head. The two of them give awkward smiles at each other.

“Oh! This is Cooper.” Lucy said, wandering back into the kitchen to pour three cups of coffee. “Cooper, this is Dane, they have come over to work on Tim’s old tractors.”

Cooper nodded, reaching a hand out to shake Dane’s, “Nice to meet you Dane, please excuse the mess, pipes seem t'have burst.”

“Not a problem, at least there is always coffee.” Dane nods, happily accepting the coffee Lucy hands over.

“There is sugar in the gnome on the counter, cream is in the fridge.” Lucy says, handing Copper his mug of coffee.

Cooper took a few sips, before helping Lucy place things in somewhat order on the counter. Lucy takes all the sopping wet towels into the laundry room hucking them into the washing machine.

“We do have calf check, but I can show you where the tractors are. There is pretty much any tool you could need, along with an arrangement of parts.” Lucy chatters, as the trio make their way to the door.

Across the yard the three go to the big green and grey barn, Cooper helps slide the heavy wood doors open, Lucy had worked hard to get the place functional. It hadn’t had many animals in it, Tim had turned it into a workshop, engine hoist, and a large tool bench. The two tractors are slotted side by side.

“This is perfect!” Dane beams, coming over to inspect the two beasts. “They look brand new! I bet I'll have them running by end of the day.”

“Thank you so much, Dane.” Lucy smiles, “I'll leave the house open, help yourself to whatever you need. We'll be about an hour or so barring any problems. You can always text me.”

Cooper was digging around on some shelving, grabbing some PEX pipe, fitting, and a few tools. “These should fix'd problem, I will drop’em off inside before we head out.”

Dane and Lucy stand there watching Cooper walk away. Lucy’s cheeks flush as she admires the man. Dane looks at Lucy, rubbing at the side of their face.

“So are you two,” Dane makes a gesture between Cooper and Lucy, “A thing? Or?”

Lucy feels her face go even more red, she looks away for a moment, before looking back at her friend. “Umm, no. We are friends, neighbors. Helping each other out and whatnot.”

Dane chuckles as they go over to the closer tractor, “I am not one to judge,” Lucy watches them opening up one of the tractor’s bonnet. “Has he told you what happened to his wife?”

Tilting her head to the side Lucy raises her eyebrows. “I know he is a widower. But I haven’t pushed any further than that.”

Dane nods, already starting to fiddle with different parts, “I’d ask him about it. Especially if you’re -ah- interested.”

A pool of anxiety fills Lucy’s stomach at the words, “Yeah, I will ask him.”

“We ready to go?” Cooper asks, Lucy nearly jumping at his voice having not heard him come up behind her.

Lucy puts on a smile, reminding Dane again to call if there is any issue before leaving with Cooper. The man moving at a good clip to the already running truck. He opens the door for Lucy, she smiles and slides into the seat. It was hard not to let her mind run over Dane’s words. She needed to ask him, or she was going to explode. She wasn't good with secrets, or not asking questions she wanted answers to.

“Umm,” Lucy fiddles with the gloves in her pocket as they roll down the gravel road. “Can I ask you a question?”

Cooper’s brows are raised as he turns to her, “Yeah, I am an open book Luc.”

Lucy licks her lips, staring at the newly leafing trees, “Can I ask what happened to your wife?”

Oh good Lucy, just straight to the point. No tack, for this poor guy who lost his wife, whose kids are still emotionally wrecked from it, Lucy thought to herself. Wishing she'd learn more tack as an adult.

Cooper shifts, sliding in his chair a little as he looks out the window. Lucy half expected him not to answer, or tell her that it was something he didn’t want to talk about. He gripped the steering wheel tight, knuckles white against the black leather. Eyes focus on the gravel road ahead of them as he searches for the words.

“I was outta town, helpin’ my brother-in-inlaw move cows to summer pasture. I got a call around four from Barb’s parents, sayin’ she hadn’t come to pick up the kids. They’d gone to the house and she wasn’t t’either. Barb was a champion rider, Thunder, was’er ride. Big beautiful deep black stallion, she rode’im three times a day. Mornin' after droppin’ the kids off, afternoon before the kids came home, and evenin’ after dinner.” Cooper rolled his shoulders as they drove into the field. Lucy jumping out to open the gate, climbing back in once he was through and the gate was closed.

“I went’ome, drove way faster than I shoulda. But Barb. Barb was never late, the woman was punctual to a fault. So we searched, and searched, called the police. More searchin’. We had about forty acres mostly forest’d that Barb rode. That entire area scavenged, the house turn’d upside down, the barn gone through. They picked apart everythin’.” Cooper’s voice was shaking as they drove towards the herd. His eyes are glassy, as he rubs the back of his hand over his nose.

“They tried-” His voice shook as his eyes continued to scan the horizon. “They tried’t blame her disappearance on me.”

Lucy felt her heart clench in her chest at the words, the thought that he’d been accused of his wife’s disappearance made her stomach turn.

“But I was in another county, my brother-in-law, thankfully, vouchin for me.” Cooper points at a fresh calf, the two working with practice ease to tag the little thing.

Cooper sat in the truck for a moment, eyes flickering, “Then we found Thunder.” Cooper works his lip into his mouth for a moment. “He’s on the side of the highway, inna ditch. Over a hour drive away from t’farm. Looked like he had been dumped. It made no sense, wasn't any sign of how the animal had pasted either, just restarted’eir investigation into me.”

“Cooper,” Lucy said quietly, her hand finding his hand on the bench seat and squeezing it.

Cooper nods his head but continues, squeezing her hand back. “They wouldn’t lay off, I did everythin’ to cooperate. Then after the third time of them tossin’ my house I blew up. I gotta lawyer, I told’em not to come back t’my property.” Another tag, and Lucy feels dizzy by the foggy emotions flooding the truck as she sits back down.

“They’d everythin’ to turn everyone against me.” Cooper blinks a few times, “My in-laws stood beside me, pushin for the police to look anywhere. But nothin’ came of it. Just no answers, nothin', just gone.”

Lucy brushed her own tears out of her eyes, so many questions bubbling under the surface. His hands gripping the steering wheel as he parked the truck on top of the hill looking out towards the valley.

“T’was too hard to stay, the whole town won’t look at me.” Cooper swallows, “It won’t hav’been so bad if it has just been me, but they came after the kids too. Mathias was gettin’ picked on. That was the final straw, sold everything and left. They never figured out what happen’d to Barb. I think about her every day. Wondering what I could've done different.”

The silence in the vehicle was deafening, the two of them watching the cattle move along the lower field. Lucy’s heartbreaking hearing how Cooper had lost so much with no answers.

“Thank you for telling me,” Lucy said quietly, her hand finding his again. “I can’t imagine how hard this must have been for you. To have to leave everything the two of you built.”

Cooper nods, his fingers lacing with Lucy’s, “t’was hard, I keep waitin’ for it to get easier. For there to be answers.” Cooper turns looking at Lucy, hazel eyes looking over her face. “I am goin’ to be forward here.” Lucy nods her head, willing to hear whatever he had to say to her. “You’ve been a bright spot for me, I look forward to this.”

He gestures at the pasture, the sun hanging in the sky, clouds drifting in. Cows mooing for their calves, as the calves chased each other through the freshly growing green grass. It was so serene, postcard-worthy her Granddad would have said.

“I look forward to spending time with you, Lucy,” Cooper states, eyes watching her closely, as the sunrises into the truck cab.

Lucy took her shot and slid across the bench seat, Cooper looking at her eyes wide as she leans in. Her hand gently touches the side of his face, the beard stubble rubbing under her fingertips as she presses her lips against his. Lucy going to lean away, when Cooper doesn't respond, Cooper immediately moves after her. Something has snapped in the truck, Cooper easily pulling Lucy onto his lap. She pushes his hat up so she can kiss him deeper, her hands moving up into his hair as he pulls Lucy against his chest. Lucy sucking his tongue into her mouth, the taste of coffee and cigarettes flooding in. His large hands come to rest against her hips, fingers running along the top of her jeans.

Cooper breaks the kiss, Lucy wanting to chase after it, scared that if they stop it won’t continue. The smile crossing his face has her pausing, Lucy worrying her lip into her mouth. Copper’s fingers pushing under her shirt to feel her skin. A shiver running over Lucy’s skin at the feel of his calloused warm hands.

“This isn’t how I imagined it,” Cooper hushes, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he looks at her.

Lucy raises her eyebrows, “Oh? What did you imagine? Would it be weird if I said I was thinking about you too?”

Cooper’s smile gets bigger, “Was going to invite ya to the spring dance. Felt a little, ahh, school crush, but I want’d a reason for-” Cooper swallows, “A reason for us t’go somewhere nice.”

She can feel her cheeks red at the statement, “I’d go with you. If you still want to go.”

Cooper leans in and kisses her gently, “I’d like that Lucy.”

***

Dane is covered in grease, a smile on their face as the larger of the two tractors starts up. Black smoke pumps out as the machine stutters to life, Dane doing a fist pump and jig as it roars. Lucy grins as Dane hops up and takes it for a spin around the yard, before parking it just outside the barn.

“Well, that one is running well. Have to get the attachments dug out, make sure the PTO is working the way it should be.” Dane beams, walking over to Lucy who has a sandwich on a plate for them.

“I cannot thank you enough for getting it running again Dane,” Lucy replies, “I think the smaller shed has some attachments if you’re up for taking them out.”

“Yeah, I am gonna let this one run for a bit, I think I am going to need to source a few parts for the second one,” Dane says walking into the barn, holding up the pieces of what was supposed to be a part. “I’d normally make something, but this has to be calibrated properly.”

Lucy nodded, “Get what you need, I am not too surprised there are parts that need to be replaced. Whatever is needed, got to get’em running properly.”

Dane nodded, washing her hands with the hose before grabbing the sandwich, “I will keep at it, thank you for the food by the way.”

“Of course, and make sure you invoice me for everything, k?” Lucy states, Dane nodding as they continue to eat the food.

Lucy walks back towards the house, head-turning up when she hears a car coming down the drive. A small blue Nissan rolling down the gravel, Lucy stopping in the middle of her drive to see who the hell it was. The car stops door opening up as Max steps out; average height, with tight black hair, dark skin, and equally dark eyes.

“Max?” Lucy asks as if she isn’t looking right at the man. He stands there awkwardly, not really smiling but not frowning either. He straightens himself up and closes the door walking towards her.

“Hey Lucy,” Max grimaces awkwardly, rubbing a hand over the tight black curls on his head, “Sorry, it’s taking so long to get here.”

Crossing her arms, Lucy narrows her eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”

Max stops a few feet away from her, arms resting against his slides, “I wanted to come see you, it’s been a few months since we spoke.”

Lucy walks forward, anger pooling in the pit of her stomach, jaw clenching as she stares down her ex. “Yeah, 'cause we broke up. You didn’t want me moving back up here. Actually, I am pretty sure you said if I left not to bother contacting you. Seemed pretty cut and dry to me.”

Max opens his mouth several times before closing it, gritting his teeth and looking away. “I didn’t think you’d actually stop contacting me. We’d been together for almost a year.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Lucy huffs, her voice shaking, their relationship hadn’t been great. They’d met at the imaging clinic, Max was shy and a little awkward but charming. They’d hit it off over lunch one day, which led to him inviting her out to go with him for dinner. He was the opposite of what she had grown up around, it had been appealing at the time. Over time the charm had faded, and the sicker her Granddad got the worse their relationship got. It ended up with Max telling her that if she moved away they were done.

“Lucy, sweety,” Max goes to move to touch her and Lucy backs away. Max’s face falling, his mouth set in a thin line.

Throat clearing has both of them turning, Cooper stood on the front porch shirtless staring down Max like he was going to blow his head off with a glare. Lucy’s mouth opening slightly at the tan skin exposed before her, trying to get herself to focus on what was happening.

“Not sure the lady here,” Cooper states walking down the steps towards them, “Is interested in your company.”

Max looks equally as flustered as Cooper steps beside Lucy, eyes downcast as his cheeks flush.

“I just wanted some closure.” Max swallows, looking away from the two of them. “Maybe change Lucy’s mind.”

Lucy let out a sigh, moving towards Max, carefully putting a hand on his shoulder. “Max, you’re a good guy, but we both know this wasn’t going to work out. You hate the outdoors and bugs, and you’re allergic to hay.”

Cooper had taken a few steps back, well-muscled arms crossed his chest as he watched the two of them. Dane had made their way down the hill, brows furrowing at the clear standoff happening. Max’s shoulders were tight as he listened to Lucy’s words.

“Is this what you want?” Max said finally turning back to her, his eyes glazing at the words. “Like to be here? On the farm.”

A tight-lipped smile graces Lucy’s face. “Yes Max, I think you knew that though. Knew it won’t work out between us.”

Max looks at the company in front of him, his hands fiddling with the pockets of his pants. Head ducked down like he was trying to make himself smaller. He nods his head several times.

“Well, I guess that settles that,” He twitches his nose, looking out towards the forest. “I am staying in town for a few days, just visiting family. You got my number still?”

Lucy nods her head, desperately wanting to make things right, but knowing that it wasn’t worth it. Things needed to end between them, and if he needed to drive three hours to figure that out then so be it.

“Goodbye, Max,” Lucy said quietly, Max nodding as he got back into his car to drive out. Her stomach turning, the thought that this wouldn’t be the last time she saw him gnawing at her mind.

Part Seven

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tag list: @toogaytofunctiondangit

*I can't believe we are 6 chapters in, this one is slow, but hold onto your hats for chapter 7!

**As always likes, comments, shares are soooo appreciated, you can find me Ao3 as well

** Want to be on the tag list let me know

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diazsdimples · 2 months ago

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James' Fic Masterlist!

It was time for an update

A Snapshot In Time (General, 2.2k | Bucktommy)

When Buck and Tommy adopted their children, they didn’t exactly think about the logistics of taking a family photo. But now that their family is complete, Buck had decided that it was time to update the family photo from 3 years ago. And now, his child-wrangling skills are being put to the test. Naturally, the day that they have the photoshoot booked is a bit of a nightmare.

The heat of the moment (Explicit, 9.9k | Buddie)

Tired and frustrated after a long shift, Buck and Eddie take an impromptu trip to the sauna. Only problem is, it's a nude sauna, which Buck didn't notice when he booked them in. Thankfully the boys handle the slip up gracefully, and possibly break a few public sex laws in the process.

We built this family together (General, 6.9k | Buddietommy)

Evan Buckley knows he is one of the luckiest men alive. It’s taken him a long time to get to this point. After years of feeling as though he was stumbling through life, just barely managing to keep up with any blows the universe aimed at him, he finally feels confident about knowing exactly what his place in the world is. He is a firefighter. He is a partner. He is a father. And today, a mild day in the middle of June, he gets to celebrate being the latter. OR Buck, Eddie, and Tommy celebrate their first Father's Day with their babies.

How can this be wrong? (Explicit, 3.8k | Bucktommy)

A 7x09 coda where Tommy feels insecure about his place in Buck's life after the run in with Gerrard, and Buck fucks him in a supply closet to remind him about it.

Sweet child of mine (General, 3.4k | Bucktommy)

Buck and Tommy bring their daughter home from the hospital and enjoy their first few hours alone with a newborn baby. That's it. That's the fic.

For the rest of my life (for the rest of yours) (General, 10.6k | Buddie)

“Hey Buck! Are you doing anything today?” Christopher’s voice is a little tinny through his phone’s speaker, cracking a little. Buck hums, pretending to think. “Hmmmm, my diary looks pretty booked. Says right here that I’ve got to watch three episodes of crappy reality tv and then eat loads of fried chicken. I’m swamped.” “Buck,” Christopher says flatly and Buck laughs, loud and ringing through the loft. “I’m only kidding. What’s up, kid?” “The baby hippo has finally born at the zoo and we have to go see her! Can you come over today, please?” OR Buck, Eddie and Christopher go to the zoo to see the baby hippo and Eddie gets all up in his feels about it.

You've got me whipped (Explicit, 10.8k | Buddie)

“Make me,” Buck whispers, and although the words might sound like a challenge, Eddie can so clearly hear what Buck isn’t saying. The implicit make me, because I can’t make myself, and then, Eddie gets it. Buck needs him to be in control right now, to make Buck surrender himself to Eddie’s mercy so Buck doesn’t have to do anything, to feel anything more than he already is. Eddie reaches out a hand and runs it up Buck’s jaw, noting with satisfaction the way Buck shudders and leans into his touch. He traces his fingertips over Buck’s cheekbones, runs the pad of his thumb over Buck’s birthmark, before bringing his hand to rest in Buck’s blond curls. He curls his fist, pulling lightly on the strands of hair that slip between his fingers, then leans forward so his lips are brushing Buck’s ear as he exerts a minute amount of pressure to the top of Buck’s head. “I said,” he whispers into Buck’s ear, “on your knees.” OR Buck has a bad call and acts out afterwards in front of their colleagues, and Eddie punishes him when they get home.

In a drought I'll give you water (Explicit, 8.2k | Buddie)

Eddie’s hanging out the washing when he notices it. Just for the record, it’s not like he regularly inspects Buck’s underwear, thank you very much, but he’d felt something tacky on the inside of the flimsy fabric when he’d been about to peg it up, and had investigated like any sane person would do. Eddie’s initial thought is “fucking washing machine, can’t even wash out the laundry powder”, mostly because there’s a white residue under where his thumb was placed moments earlier and there’s been occasions when their black shirts have had clumps of laundry powder still on them despite the tossing about they’ve received in the washer. Or Eddie finds come on Buck's underwear and panics

Kilty Pleasures (Explicit, 8k | Buddie)

“What the hell are these?” Eddie asks with a quirked eyebrow, poking suspiciously at the tartan with his forefinger. Buck flops himself into the chair beside Eddie and steals a sip from his coffee cup. “Kilts!” he says with a grin and he drags one off the table and holds it up to show Eddie. It’s long, and dark, and made out of what looks suspiciously like faux leather, and almost certainly purchased from a sex shop. “I thought we could wear them to the festival tomorrow!” If Buck had a tail, it would be wagging so hard right now. Or Buck and Eddie discover they have kilt kinks.

Play me like a fiddle (Explicit, 34.3k | Buddie)

Eddie plays the French Horn for the Los Angeles Philharmonic and is told about the wonderful new cello soloist playing with them for this concert. He sounds like a pretentious asshole and Eddie vows not to like him. In walks Evan Buckley, cellist from New York and soloist for this concert. Eddie quickly realises he's in trouble as the man immediately casts a spell on him, turning Eddie into a blushing mess. Can he put aside his feelings for Buck long enough to remain a professional and get through this week without making any poor decisions? (Spoiler Alert: he cannot)

Buck's Baby (By Accident) (General, 119k | Buddie)

Buck's life is turned upside down when a newborn baby is placed on his doorstep, with allegations that it is his child. Buck quickly steps into his new role of "dad", with the help from his family and friends. Follow Buck, Aidan, Eddie and Christopher as they navigate new babies, blossoming relationships, illnesses, injuries and making their own little family.

Fucking Finally (Finally Fucking) (Explicit, 3.9k | Buddie)

“God you look so hot” Eddie growled as he took in Buck’s appearance, his hair messy from Eddie’s hands, his hips swollen from the force of their kiss and the bulge in his pants as plain as day as his erection strained against the fabric. Buck’s eyes raked up and down Eddie, finding his boyfriend in a similar state of arousal. “Not too bad yourself, Mr. Diaz” he smirked, wrapping a hand around Eddie’s waist and pulling them together once again, capturing him in another brain-melting kiss. They were interrupted by the comical “ding” of the elevator as it reached their floor and Eddie wasted no time pulling Buck out, dragging him down the hallway to their room. OR Buck and Eddie stay at a hotel after their first date and finally get some time to themselves without crying kids

Burning With Need (Explicit, 3.8k | Buddie)

“Buck, what is going on?” he asked, sitting upright. “You’re fidgeting so much”. Buck looked up quickly, peering at Eddie through one open eye. “Nothing, nothing I’m fine” he replied, his cheeks flushing slightly. “That’s a lie and we both know it” Eddie rolled his eyes and reached over to prod the skin where Buck’s hand had been resting, eliciting a hiss from the younger man. “Okay, fine, I’m busting. I gotta pee so bad”. Buck’s words ignited a fire inside Eddie that he’d almost forgotten about. Or Eddie remembers he has a piss kink and Buck's desperation on a hike is a test of his control

In sickness and in health (but mostly in sickness) (General, 3.7k | Buddie)

Eddie wakes up with a bad case of the flu and Buck is there to nurse him back to health. Buck realises he might be falling for Eddie.

First Words (General, 2k | Buddie)

Buck and Eddie's 10 month old daughter says her first words. Her dads are over the moon. Cue domestic fluff

#james writes #buddie #bucktommy #buddietommy #buddie fic #bucktommy fic #buddietommy fic #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #911 #911 buddie #911verse #911 fanfic #911 fandom

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tbyfandoms · 2 years ago

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I’ve Got You | JJ Maybank x Reader

Pairing: jj maybank x f!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: struggling with financial burdens, y/n starts to crumble under the pressure. jj notices the girl he loves is hard on her luck, so he does everything he can to help fix it (requested)

Warnings: descriptions of financial struggles and depression, mild swearing

Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: hello everybody! it feels great to finally get out my first fic of the new year! things have been kinda crazy irl so I haven't had a ton of time to write, but I just wanna say I appreciate all of your support and patience. when I got this request it really hit home, so I hope the user who requested this enjoys! in other words, I can't wait for s3 of obx to drop this month, I've missed my blondie <3

It was all beginning to be too much. You aren’t quite sure how much more of this you could handle.

Flopping onto your bed, you try your best to not fall asleep right then and there. You’ve just gotten home from a long shift at work, and to say you're drained would be an understatement.

You're not really sure where it all started. At one point you were fine, dealing with finances and typical life whatsits, when suddenly it all came crashing down.

Bills and necessities started pilling up and for some reason everything seemed to be getting more and more expensive. You were doing everything you could; taking on another job, spending less, even selling things you no longer needed. None of it seemed to help, though. You feel like you're being buried under all the pressure, and it doesn't help that it's starting to take a toll on your mental health.

Days and days went by where you would do nothing but go from one job to the next, come home and do what you needed, and then fall asleep. It was all starting to blur, you can't even remember what life was like before this all began. It makes you feel so sad and stressed, but you're not quite sure what else to do.

You're supposed to be hanging out with the Pogues tonight, and you'd promised you'd go since you've missed the last three hangouts to either work or catch up on sleep, but you're struggling to even keep your eyes open right now. Honestly with everything going on lately, you haven’t been one to want to socialize anyways. You can feel yourself pulling away from your friends more and more, but you feel as if you can’t do anything to stop it.

Turning over on your side, you grab your phone and check what time it is. It's early-ish. You could totally rest your eyes for a bit before you get up. Today was just so exhausting, it felt like you pulled a double because one of your co-workers called off and you had to do all their work as well as your own. The whole thing was a total nightmare.

It wouldn't hurt to drift off for a while. If you're a little late to the hangout later it won't be the end of the world. Everyone would probably just brush it off. So far no one's caught on to what's happening in your life and somehow that soothes you. You'd hate to worry any of them, they each have their own problems to deal with and you're not gonna add to the list.

Everything would be fine eventually. Although, from what you can see, it all seems far from fine.

*****

There's a rapid and consistent buzzing coming from your left side, and the feeling has you bolting out of bed.

It takes you a second to regain your balance and whereabouts, but as soon as you do you find yourself filled with panic. It’s darker out now, much darker than it was earlier.

When your eyes adjust to the brightness of your phone you see notifications on top of notifications of missed calls and texts. They’re all from the Pogues wondering where in the hell you are. You were supposed to meet with them hours ago. Shit.

Quickly, you open the groupchat you have with everyone and send a simple but honest text.

Had work today and passed out as soon as I got home. Didn’t realize how late it was. Promise I’ll be at the next hang, sorry!

Hopefully it’s enough to ease their minds. It’s not like you lied either, you really did have work and passed out. Just because you didn’t wanna go in the first place doesn’t mean it’s any less valid.

The thought sort of jars you. You can’t ever think of a time where you didn’t want to spend every moment with your friends, whether it be to surf, party, or just sit with each other. You frown at how much things have changed. You miss-what feels like-the old days, you miss the old you.

Your phone lights up with countless more messages from the Pogues as they take in your response. It's all a bit overwhelming. So, too tired to care you silence your phone and toss it aside. Just like everything else that isn't work, sleep, or bills; you could deal with it later.

Stomach growling, you decide you should get up and try to find something to eat. Making your way to the kitchen you think over everything you have to choose from, which isn't much.

Opening the fridge, your thoughts are further confirmed. It's practically a ghost town in this thing. You haven't had a chance to stop at the grocery store lately so there's not a whole lot to make. It's not like you have the money to go anyways.

Sighing, you close the fridge door and try to be creative with your limited options. Before you can even start to brainstorm though, there's several knocks at the front door.

Your eyebrows knit in confusion as you wonder who in the world it could be. You're definitely not expecting anyone, especially this late at night.

Slowly creeping to the front door, you nearly jump as more incessant knocking rings out through the house. Looking through the peephole your nerves both settle and start up again at the sight.

It's JJ. You know exactly why he's here before you even open the door, and that thought alone makes you nervous. You really don't feel like explaining yourself any further than what you sent in the groupchat, but it looks like that's finally starting to be unavoidable.

"JJ,' you say as you open the door, feigning as much joy as possible to try and throw him off. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? Y/N, what are you doing here? You were supposed to meet us hours ago and you never showed up."

The blonde lets himself in as he brushes past you. Blinking several times at the sudden intrusion, you close the door and begin to repeat yet again why you weren't there. "I told you-"

"No, don't. I don't want to her that bullshit excuse you sent in the groupchat because that's exactly what it is; bullshit."

Irritation flutters through your body as you take in JJ's words. "It's not bullshit, JJ! I did work today and just like I told you I passed out afterwards because of how exhausted I was! I can show you my damn timecard if you don't believe me."

Rolling your eyes you start to open the front door again, thinking it's high time JJ left. He's definitely overstayed his welcome if this is how he's gonna act.

"You know what? I think I would like to see your timecard. How about you show me all your timecards from the past week, month even!? Because it seems like all you do now is work."

The boy's words stop you in your tracks, hand on the doorknob. "I-I do not work all the time." You wince at your lack of confidence. You don't dare to turn towards JJ, knowing he'll instantly be able to tell you're lying.

"Yes you do, either that or you're lying to us, to me, about where you are every time we try to hang out or when I'm just checking in with you. There's clearly something going on." JJ's tone goes soft, concern seeping through his words as he continues. "Please look at me, Y/N."

Slowly, you turn towards him. You're trying your best to fight back tears, every instance of JJ or the others texting you flooding your mind. Every time you told them you had work when they tried to plan something or when you would cancel on them at the last minute when an extra shift opened up.

You thought you were doing good with hiding your problems and your excessive work and sleep schedule, but clearly you were wrong.

"There's nothing going on, J. I just get a lot of shifts at work, it's no big deal." Your voice gives at the end and you clear your throat to try and cover it up, but from the look on JJ's face, he's not believing any of it.

"C'mon, don't you think I know when there's something wrong with my girl?" The endearment has your eyes shooting to his, another sudden rush of emotion clogging your system. It's all too much to hold in, and you can feel the dam about to burst.

JJ apparently notices this too, because not a second later he's rushing forwards, his arms wrapping around you instantly. His warmth and familiar scent circling you.

The tears fall freely down your cheeks, soaking into JJ's soft, cotton shirt. Weeks worth of pent up emotion ravages your body, leaving you shaking and drained.

JJ leads you to the couch, sitting you both down but not letting go of you for even a moment. "Tell me what's wrong. I can't stand to see you like this."

Looking up at JJ, you try to regain your composure as he wipes away the tears on your cheeks. The subtle brush of his thumbs across your skin has you feeling warm and safe.

It's evident by the look on his face that the blonde isn't going to let this go. He'll sit here all night with you if he has to, that's how much he cares and how much he's worried about you.

There's a part of you, albeit small, that knows you should've confided in your friends about everything going on, should've confided in JJ at the very least. After everything you've been through together it should've been a given that you couldn't keep something from him for long.

Shaking your head, you try to think of where the hell to start. How do you just come out and tell someone you care so deeply for that you're struggling financially? Mentally? And that you have been for months?

Considering you don't even know where everything began, you just try you best to recount when it all started weighing heavily on you. You tell JJ about all the bills, about taking on a second job just to barely make ends meet. You tell him how depressed you've felt, how closed off, how tired.

It makes your heart hurt how JJ's eyes gloss over, how he shakes his head and scoffs in disbelief over everything. You know you're struggling badly right now, but to see how it effects someone when you finally say it all out loud makes it seem so much more real.

"I can't believe you've had to deal with all that, that you're still dealing with it." The blonde takes off the red hat he's wearing and runs his fingers through the waves that have been hidden there. "Why-Why didn't you tell me?"

Shrugging your shoulders, you bite your bottom lip to try and hold back the tears threatening to spill again. "I guess I just thought it wasn't worth it. I know you guys have things of your own to deal with, especially you, and I didn't want to add on any more burdens."

"Hey, no, none of that." JJ shakes his head and reaches out to hold your face within his hands. "Don't ever think that you can't come to me with something like this. Sure I've got a dead beat dad to deal with, but that's nothing I can't handle. I wouldn't let anything come between me being there for you. You're not a burden, not even a little bit. Especially not when you're dealing with something like this."

Overcome with emotions, all you can manage is a nod along with a smile, your heart feeing so full and so unlike what's it felt like for ages. Although everything is far from being solved, it's nice to know you have people to lean on, that there's someone who would do anything for you when it feels like you've been alone for so long.

Removing his hands from your face and wrapping them around you once more, JJ hums into the side of your head and you can't help but to let out a long sigh, trying to let go for just a moment and be here. It feels good to be wrapped in the Pogue's arms. To be honest, you could stay like this forever.

Before long, your mind is back to worrying about everything going on, about your difficult situation and how there seems to be no end in sight. "What am I gonna do, JJ?" You whisper while holding the boy a little closer, needing to feel grounded somehow.

Devastated by the broken sound of your voice and heartbreaking situation, JJ does his best to rack his mind of what he could do to help you. He'd offer you all the money he's got, but he knows you'd never accept it, not even as a gift. You're too proud and selfless to ever take money from anyone, especially not your best friends.

The boy grows restless, frustration and sorrow coursing through his body as your story replays in his mind. He can't wrap his head around how this has happened to you. Sure, it's not uncommon for those who live in Outer Banks, but the fact it's you rips him to shreds.

JJ thinks back on what he did when he was strapped for cash. Back to when he had to pick up the slack every time his old man went on a weeklong binge and didn't go to work for weeks on end. Suddenly, an idea comes to mind and the blonde rushes to offer it to you.

"What if-what if I talked to my boss to see if we can get you a serving gig or something where I work?"

You look up at JJ with skeptical eyes, not sure if what he's saying could really happen. "I don't know, J. I mean, are you sure? I tried to get in there when I was looking for a better job, but they weren't hiring."

"Yeah! I know I'm shit for a busboy but my word is good, and with your references you'd definitely get in! One of our servers just quit to go back to the mainland because she couldn't handle island life anymore, so it's perfect!"

You can't help the giggle that slips past your lips. This one sure has a way with words.

"C'mon, Y/N, it would be great for you. The pay is way better than the jobs you have now and the servers even get tips. You wouldn't have to have two jobs anymore and could worry a little less about bringing in money. The worst thing you'd have to deal with is the Kooks, but you know how to handle them better than anyone." A coy smile plays at the edge of JJ's pink lips. "Plus, you'd be able to see me a lot more too."

"Okay, I'd love that, thank you" you reply shyly. Looking away from JJ for a minute, you can't help the doubt creeping in all over again. "What if it doesn't work out, though? What if your boss already found someone. I can't be without a job, JJ. I need to make sure-"

JJ grabs your face, holding it in his hands just like he did earlier. The warmth instantly filling in the cold spots the fear began to create. "They didn't and you won't be. No matter what happens you still have the two jobs you've got now, but hell I'd quit and let you have my job if it means you can stop struggling with those. I mean it when I say, I've got you."

The boy flashes you a smile before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on your forehead, doing anything to try and get you to feel better. Luckily, it works. You smile back and lean into one of his hands as heat rushes to your face.

"You really know how to make a girl feel better don't you, Maybank?" There's a hint of teasing in your tone, but you truly mean it as well. People may say JJ is a lot of things, but they can never say he's not a good friend.

"Anything for you, baby," he winks. Rolling your eyes, you push away from the blonde before he can get too cocky over the way he makes you feel. There's a smirk on your lips as you walk back towards the kitchen, stomach fluttering for more reasons than just being hungry.

Opening the fridge, you try to scrounge up an idea for what you can offer JJ. "You want anything to eat or drink? There's not much but I'm sure we can think of something."

"Yeah, starved! Forget cooking, though, you don't need to do all that. Let's go to The Wreck, you know I would die for one of Mr. C's burgers."

Laughing, you nod your head as you close the fridge and make your way to the front door. "That actually sounds amazing, let's go."

"Hey," JJ says, stopping you as you put your shoes on. "And don't worry, it's on me."

Tilting your head to the side, you look quizzically at the boy in front of you. "Kie's parents don't even charge us when we eat there?"

"Okay, yeah, but it's the thought that counts, right?"

"You're such an idiot," you laugh. JJ smiles at the sound and at the sight of your eyes gaining back a little bit of that sparkle he hasn't seen in a long time.

"But you still love me, though," he replies, not even needing to ask if that's true as he opens the door for you.

"I sure do."

As you make yourself comfortable behind JJ on his motorbike, you do your best to try and get your mind off everything. It's been hard to feel any sort of ease for as long as you've been dealing with this stuff, but with JJ it feels like for once you can just settle.

You have no idea if JJ's serving idea is gonna work out or what's gonna happen tomorrow. But you know at the end of the day you'll still have him, still have your friends, to help you figure it all out.

It's hard to open up about it all, but there's a part of you that knows it was the right thing to do with JJ. He's the greatest person you've ever met, and you wouldn't trade him for the world. And just like he said earlier, he's got you, and that's all that really matters.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #obx x reader #jj maybank #outer banks #requested

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manias-wordcount · 11 months ago

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View of Paradise (Satoru Gojo x Reader) PART THREE

[𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝙊𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 𝘼𝙐]

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗱𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗶𝗳 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁? 𝗯𝗰 𝗶 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝗶 𝗮𝗺 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔 𝗼𝗼𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗹 𝗯𝗶𝘁

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 || 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 || 𝘀𝗶𝘅 || 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 || 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲 || 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗳𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲…

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The first thing you notice when you slip into the kitchen is just how much bigger it feels now that there are only about four chefs left inside. It’s the same sight and the same feeling you get every time you’re closing, but it’s still a little jarring. As you empty your tray in one of the kitchen trash cans, you count four people in the room instead of the usual ten or however many people are actually here during a given shift. Either way, it’s always weird seeing the back of house so empty. Always.

Right now, there’s a guy with Toge, helping him clean up a couple of the stations together. The guy is big and loud and a bit eccentric. But Toge seems fine with having the other guy speak enough for the both of them so you don’t put up a fuss. Another chef, one you’re having trouble remembering the name of, seems to be towards the back of the kitchen by the freezers- taking inventory and writing stuff up on her notepad. You take a second to tell yourself that while it sucked being locked outside today in the cold, you’re just happy nobody hated you enough to lock you in the freezer overnight. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. Out of fear or memory of just how cold that freezer can get from the one time you peaked your head back there for head chef Nanami, you’re not sure.

And speaking of Nanami…

“Mr. Nanami…?” You softly call the older man’s name from behind him. He’s standing over his station, with his back towards you. But at the sound of your voice, he’s turning his head with a passive expression on his tired face. You feel bad for the guy. You really do. Unlike you with your two days a week of twelve-hour shifts, Nanami does the full fifteen hours for all seven days. He told you it was by choice. Same way his leaving the diner right at eight-thirty at night, every night (even when the kitchen is still sending out orders to stragglers) is a choice. But you’ve seen how the kitchen falls apart on those rare days he takes off from work. It was a nightmare you remember very vividly. But you wonder if the way he works himself now is even a better alternative in the end. “My brother is here now. We’ll be heading out shortly if you want to say hello.”

When you mention your younger brother, Nanami’s eyes soften. Just a little bit. But behind his glasses, the man still looks as cold and as intimidating as ever. Still, it seems like not even a guy as jaded as him can go without appreciating your little brother. And you can’t blame the guy either. Yuuta’s a great kid. Great younger brother too.

Though with all the stuff you have to do for your family, you’re willing to bet that you’re an even greater sister. Just saying.

“Good kid,” Nanami finally murmurs after a while, before turning around and facing his station once more. He gets back to whatever task he was doing easily, and you’re stuck twiddling your thumb for a couple of seconds and debating whether or not that’s your cue to go. That was until he spoke up again about a half-minute later. “What’s he doing out here so late?”

You shrug your shoulders a second before you remember the guy doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head. Despite all the kitchen staff swearing up and down that he does...

“Work, I think. He’s been running newspapers and shining shoes before and after school. He had to ask for more hours…” You trail off at that, as memories of your exact circumstance start to rise. Your mood starts to sour a little at the thought. Your mother’s pay was cut back not too long ago. And it looks like there are talks of layoffs in your father’s factory very soon. All that with the price of medication for all your bed-ridden grandparents starting to climb is adding up to a whole laundry list of problems. You had hopes that Yuuta would be able to remain a kid for a little while longer. But with the way things are going right now, you’re not completely positive Yuuta will be able to stay in school for as long as you managed to in the end…. “...so that's probably why he’s not home yet.”

As the words leave your lips, you look at the door to the kitchen. You can’t see your brother through it. But you can imagine him very clearly right now. Working through the rest of his homework while he waits for you because there’s never a guarantee that the lights at home will work for him. He spends his mornings up at the crack of dawn delivering papers to the neighborhood instead of in bed or eating Gojo-O’s in front of a TV. He spends his afternoons cleaning shoes and helping out where he can for some meager pocket change instead of hanging out with his friends. Does he even have friends still? When was the last time he was invited anywhere? You remember losing many of your around his age as your family fell further below the poverty line and you started missing school for your part-time jobs.

It makes you sigh quietly as you think about it more. You know exactly what he’s going through. Because you remember very well starting to have to pull back from being a kid around this age too. It’s been over ten years for you, but still, you can recall just how much it hurt to lose your childhood, and you never wanted that for Yuuta. But between an empty stomach and time away from friends, you knew there was a correct answer to choose. But in your opinion, it would never not be a painful one. Especially for an eleven-year-old boy like him.

You let out another sigh, but quickly perk up a second later.

“...Or maybe he’s waiting for your cooking!” You pipe in the last second when you realize that the silence between you and Nanami is starting to become a little deafening. You let out a tense little laugh as your eyes shift around at the other people in the room. Luckily, nobody is watching or seems to be listening to you. You’re thankful, as your cheeks start to warm up with embarrassment at the thought of almost venting to your co-worker right before closing time. “Ah, haha…”

However, by the time your nervous laughter dies down and you face ahead to look at Nanami again, you find that the man is already looking at you. Although the intensity of his gaze has you swallowing a little nervously, you can tell that the glint in his eyes wasn't showing you pity or deep and the utter sadness you used to get from all kinds of grandmas and grandpas in the street.

It’s respect.

That’s why you find yourself whispering a quiet “thank you, Mr. Nanami” as he steps aside and shows you three to-go boxes full of food. One container is a full thing of chicken tenders and french fries. Edges burnt and blackened, but you know you and Yuuta would be happy to share. The second container holds a couple of slabs of meatloaf that just seem to be a second away from falling apart. But there’s enough for your mom and your dad if they had a side of cabbage with it all, you’re sure of it.

And container three has somehow managed to fit two full hoagies shoved in there. They’re squished and squeezed as much as they can be, but they’re in there alright. You have a feeling that they were made with the lunch meat that was about the go bad and the saddest, ugliest slices of tomatoes and onions and lettuce that this kitchen has to offer. But you know once you cut these sandwiches in half and present them to your grandparents, they’ll be willing to worship it like it’s pure gold.

They must be the worst items that came out of the kitchen today. The ones that almost got past Mr. Nanami’s watchful eye during quality control but ultimately didn’t. And it’s a lot more than he usually is able to slip for you and your brother. A lot more than what’s usually allowed by your boss anyway. But there are plenty of good people at Zenin Diner to balance out the bad, like the closers that are here with you tonight. That means there are plenty of good people looking out for you and your brother when they can too.

You gather up the boxes quickly and go to fetch your cardigan. Now that your younger brother is here and it’s pitch dark outside, people are a little more okay with you ducking out before the rest of the cleaning is done. You bundle yourself up tightly and stack boxes full of food on top of each other, careful not to spill anything on the freshly swept and mopped floors. And careful not to get caught sneaking too much food from the kitchen tonight by Mr. Zenin either.

By the time you’re ready to go, Nanami is following you out of the kitchen. You wave bye to Toge, and for some reason, Toge and the eccentric man wave back at you two. However, you don’t dwell on it too long as Nanami holds open the door for you to step through. Just like you don’t dwell on it too long when Nanami just shakes his head at you for asking about whatever is in that small little paper bag he’s got stuffed in his hand that he keeps conveniently moving out of your view.

When you step back into the front of the house, Nobara and Maki are still bickering just a tad at each other. But the conversation about math has seemed to disappear alongside the empty spots for answers on your brother’s math worksheet. But he still looks conflicted as he holds open a book and has his gaze wandering back and forth between the two women. Though as he hears the door open, Yuuta’s gaze is quick to fall onto you. And his mood is even quicker to light up like the sun as he spots the containers of food in your hands.

You mouth the words “pack up your stuff” to him and set the food down to quickly take care of his empty cup of water. Yuuta nods at you before setting down his book and lifting his backpack onto a nearby stool as he starts putting away his things. Nanami lingers just behind the counter with you for a little bit longer than you would have expected, but he’s quickly roped in the conversation between Nobrara and Maki as they both turn on him and ask if he’s ever read “The Call of the Wild” before. Expectedly, both Yuuta and Nanami let out their own little sounds of exasperation, and you can’t help but laugh as the two of them try to hurry along and get out of there.

Still, not wanting to be on your feet for any longer than you really have to, you’re speedy about washing out Yuuta’s cup, drying it off, and placing it in the correct spot for tomorrow’s openers. Besides you, Nobara and Maki’s conversation has died down to a pair of grumbles as they turn back to get some more cleaning down. And in front of you, Nanami is making his way from behind the counter and heading towards the front door of the diner.

But as you’re doing a quick wipe of the counter where Yuuta was sitting, you notice Nanami looking at you from the corner of your eye before stopping in front of Yuuta. No words are exchanged between the two of them. But you do see Nanami reach into his pocket and press the little paper bag he was hiding from you earlier into your brother’s hands once he finally finished putting his backpack on. But before you can even call out to Nanami- whether it was to thank him or scold him for sneaking another thing out to your family, you’re not quite sure yourself- the older man was already out the door and down the stairs of the diner. Never once looking back.

At that, you let out the umpteenth sigh of the day, but you don’t go chasing or shouting after him. Especially now that you’ve spotted just how big the smile on your brother’s face has gotten once he opened up the paper bag and took a peak inside.

Of course, Yuuta tried to hide it from you- having understood exactly why Nanami must have slipped it to him in secret. But you’ve been his older sister for far too long to have a secret kept so easily from you. And by the time you’re picking up the food again and heading out the door after saying your goodbyes to the rest of the staff with your brother in tow, you already managed to sneak your own quick peek of the surprise gift your brother got from Nanami. And although Yuuta puts up a valiant effort to keep it from you, you’re an experienced older sister. And your brother is no criminal mastermind either. But most importantly? You’d be a fool not to know a full-size Gojo Bar just from the shape alone.

Letting out one more sigh, you pushed open the front door to the diner and took a step outside. Your breath comes out in little white puffs of air. It’s getting colder. Colder than it was earlier today. You hum thoughtfully.

You’ll have to thank Nanami tomorrow.

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bloody-bee-tea · 1 month ago

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Beetober 2024 Day 12 - Peach

Hitoshi stares off into the distance. He lets the chatter of his friends wash over him, the gentle cadence interrupted only by Mina's bright laugh, by Denki's cheerful exclamations and of course by Bakugo's yelled death threats.

All in all it’s not very peaceful but it's disgustingly familiar and Hitoshi feels himself sink further into his chair.

"Oi, shitty extra, you got nothing to add?" Bakugo snaps out some undetermined time later and Hitoshi blinks his eyes open, unaware of when they slipped close.

"Add to what?" he rasps out and he tries to remember what they've been talking about before he maybe, possibly, drifted off to sleep.

There had been talk about a case, maybe? But that could also just be a figment of his imagination, Hitoshi wouldn't put it past his brain because it's not as if he can expect anything from it after almost three days awake.

"You doing okay, buddy?" Denki carefully asks and Hitoshi lolls his head around to look at him, decidedly not thinking deeper on how hard it is to drag his eyes away from Bakugo's piercing glare.

It's always hard to look away from him, he commands attention in every room he steps into, and it doesn't help that Hitoshi has a stupid pathetic crush on the other hero. Still, he somehow manages to fix his attention on Denki, though he can feel Bakugo's gaze still on him.

"Came off a—" Hitoshi trails off, because he doesn't actually remember if he had a double or maybe quadruple shift after he got out of his last mission so he weakly ends with "—long shift at work."

He mentally congratulates himself on actually finishing the sentence but it seems as if his friends are only more worried now.

"When was the last time you slept?" Mina asks, leaning in slightly, her big eyes narrowed at him.

"What day is today?" Hitoshi shoots back when he can't quite get his days in order.

"Thursday, you dementic asshole," Bakugo hisses out and Hitoshi gives him a lazy thumbs up.

"Maybe Tuesday then, but definitely Monday," he says, because he remembers waking up from a nightmare on Monday morning. That means he must have slept at least long enough to dream so it counts.

He can't quite remember if he slept since but—well. That's not totally unusual for him after coming back from a monthlong mission and soon enough his body will forcefully shut him down, which is the only thing he’s hoping for at this point.

Hitoshi does hate it so when his therapist is on her time off.

"You're insane," Denki whispers out, clearly horrified by what Hitoshi has said but he simply shrugs.

There's nothing he can do about it, he tried all the things already. It just doesn't work, and especially not after an undercover mission that almost went to shit. He learned to live with it and usually he doesn't mind it much.

He has his dads he can talk to and his therapist normally, and in a day or two his sleep schedule will go back to its regular four to five hours a night and Hitoshi will be fine.

He always is.

"Why are you even here, if you haven't slept?" Bakugo wants to know and Hitoshi forces himself to focus on him.

"Excuse me for wanting to spend time with my friends, who I rarely see because of shitty missions," he tells him and immediately Denki coos.

"Aww, Toshi, you called us your friends." He clasps his hands in front of his chest, his eyes big and watery and Hitoshi regrets ever opening his mouth.

"Gonna take it back if you're being weird about it," he grumbles and does not perk up when Bakugo snorts out a soft laugh.

"Shouldn't have ever mentioned it in the first place, Pikachu is going to latch on to that and never let it go," he lazily drawls out and it almost sounds like a threat, especially when Denki nods enthusiastically.

"I'll just make him forget. As soon as I get enough brainpower to actually hold on to him," Hitoshi mutters, his eyes closed again and he only blinks them open when he's met with silence.

"Dude, you're like, dead on your feet. Go home. You have some time off now, right?"

"Entire next week," Hitoshi nods.

"We could have met literally any other time than today," Mina sighs out and pats Hitoshi's head. "Please go home and sleep."

"I'm gonna crash for three days straight when my body shuts down and I wanted to see you before."

"Alright, that's it, up you go, zombie face, this is just pathetic and sad and you need to sleep. The extras will still be here when you join the land of the living in three days."

The extras maybe, but Bakugo won't because he's scheduled to go on an oversea mission for the next two weeks and Hitoshi really wanted to see him, too.

He'd rather die than admit that, though, so he simply flips Bakugo the finger but he does get up, swaying on his feet once he manages to stand upright.

"Did you bike here?" Denki warily asks him and Hitoshi shakes his head.

He's not quite that stupid.

"Train," is all he says and when he almost topples over because everything keeps shifting with how tired he is, Bakugo shoots up and catches him.

"Fucking hell, eggplant, you really are so goddamn stupid," he mutters as he slings Hitoshi's arm over his shoulder and hitches him up, one of his stupidly muscled arms wrapped around Hitoshi's middle.

"What are you doing?" Hitoshi mutters out, even though he can't quite stop himself from leaning into Bakugo and his enticing heat.

It's okay if he can brush it off as being too tired to stand, right?

"Getting you home, what does it fucking look like?" is the harsh reply he gets and Hitoshi frowns.

"I can get there by myself."

"Right, because you look real able at the moment," Bakugo sneers out and Hitoshi can imagine his eyeroll. "You're going to take one step outside and then fall into oncoming traffic, because you'll keel over any moment now and then you'll have traumatised some poor, unsuspecting citizens. Plus, someone’s gotta protect your mug, lest it get any uglier, so I'm only doing my job as a hero. It's a service to the public, really."

Hitoshi blinks several times, trying to digest all of that, but he gives up when his head starts to hurt.

There is one thing he takes away from all of this, though.

"Aww, I didn't know you cared," he says around a smile and he hears someone snort, probably Denki.

"I fucking don't, you idiot," Bakugo snaps and then hefts Hitoshi higher, before he starts to drag him off.

"Bye, Toshi!" Denki calls after him and Mina adds "Get some sleep!" before their voices fade in the background.

"Is this a kidnapping?" Hitoshi wants to know when Bakugo deposits him into a car seat and he thinks he might catch on fire from the intensity with which Bakugo glares at him.

"Do kidnappers usually take you home to sleep?" Bakugo inquires once he slid behind the wheel and Hitoshi hums in thought.

"Not typically, no. Is this—are you gonna crash the car then?"

"I would rather kill you with my bare hands than mess up the paint job on my car," Bakugo shoots back with a side glance and Hitoshi lolls his heard around until he can look at him.

He does make a very striking picture behind the wheel, but then again, Bakugo always does. That's kind of his entire thing.

"Hate how competent you are at everything," Hitoshi mutters under his breath. "Even bulling me into going home."

Bakugo outright laughs at that.

"If it makes you feel better, I work hard to be that competent."

"Even at taking me home?"

"I doubt it's going to be the last time, you're a fucking idiot like that, so there’ll be lots of opportunity for me to practice," Bakugo gives back, but his voice is softer than Hitoshi is used to and it's enough to almost put him to sleep.

He feels so cared for.

They don't speak for the rest of the ride home and Hitoshi only realises they have arrived when Bakugo punches his shoulder. He must have dozed off at some point.

"Oi, up you go, fucker," he cheerfully declares and Hitoshi barely manages to get his eyes open.

They burn and Hitoshi feels like crying because he's so damn tired and he knows it still won't be enough. The last mission is still hanging over him and he has been in this line of work for long enough to know that the nightmares won't let him sleep if he isn't unconscious.

Now, Yamada has argued often enough that unconsciousness doesn't equal rest, but Hitoshi just needs to reset his system once. He's not relying on unconsciousness forever, he just needs it this one time, and then his stupid brain will know that it's okay to fall asleep and then, maybe, he can get some real rest going forward.

"Are you deaf or just stupid?" Bakugo's cutting voice interrupts his musings and Hitoshi somehow manages to drag his eyes up to him.

"Tired," he slurs out and then falls forward, until his head rests on Bakugo's stomach.

"So let's get you upstairs so you can sleep in your bed and not propped up against me," Bakugo sighs out and Hitoshi must already be asleep, because there is no other explanation for the hand in his hair.

"'s not safe," Hitoshi mutters and feels how Bakugo sighs.

"I'm here, aren't I? It doesn't get safer than that," he gives back and maybe he's right.

Yeah, he has to be right, Hitoshi thinks, because Bakugo is one of the top three heroes and if he says it's safe then it must be.

"'kay," Hitoshi agrees and finally manages to get himself upright again, though he still has to lean very heavily against Bakugo.

"Last mission really fucked you over, huh?" Bakugo muses as they make their way up the stairs, slowly but surely, and Hitoshi nods.

"Was bad, nearly went completely off the rails."

It's barely an explanation, but Hitoshi doesn't have it in him to find more words and he's still not entirely convinced Bakugo even cares, despite the way he lugs his mostly uncooperative body up the stairs.

Bakugo probably treats this as training and then calls it a day. He won't ever think about this again and Hitoshi already knows that he'll never think of anything but this again. Bakugo is warm against him and for all that he pretends he doesn't care and couldn't be bothered to, he's still gentle and careful with Hitoshi and it's not something he would have expected.

"But it didn't and no one died," Bakugo says as he makes Hitoshi unlock the door to his apartment and he's too concentrated on getting the key into the hole to think about why the hell Bakugo would know that there hadn't been any casualties.

"Doesn't stop the—" he points at his temple once the door is open. "You know how it is."

"I do," Bakugo agrees and immediately moves towards the bedroom when Hitoshi points towards it.

He unceremoniously dumps him into the sheets as soon as it's in reach and Hitoshi doesn't have it in him to complain.

The bed is soft and he's finally in a horizontal position and Hitoshi's eyes slip shut without his permission.

"Thought so," Bakugo snorts out but Hitoshi still feels how the blankets are being pulled over him, and he'd almost call it sweet with how Bakugo tucks him in. He's just about to when Bakugo pushes his hand through Hitoshi's hair again and the last thing he hears before darkness finally claims him is "Sleep, I'm here. You're safe."

Hitoshi sleeps without nightmares that night.

~*~*~

Hitoshi wakes up completely disoriented. For long moments he doesn't know who he is, or where and least of all why and it takes him a good five minutes to remember his name and that he's currently at home.

He feels good; better than he has in ages and he has no clue how that comes to be. Hitoshi vows to figure that out, but first he needs something to drink. He rolls around in his bed, wondering if he's ready to leave it yet but when his gaze falls onto his side table, he realises that he doesn't have to.

There's a sports drink right there, waiting for him, sweetly calling his name, and Hitoshi downs the first half of it without tasting anything. It's only after that he realises it's peach flavoured, which happens to be his favourite.

"What the fuck," Hitoshi mutters, staring at the bottle in confusion.

He knows himself well enough to know that he certainly did not have the foresight to put it within reach and he's reasonably sure that he has never even brought one of these back home.

Hitoshi shrugs the mystery off and finally untangles himself enough to get up and stretch. He really feels good and he grabs for his phone to check just how long he's been asleep for and then he nearly drops it when the time hits him. It's Friday morning. And not even early morning, but like. Brunch time.

Hitoshi slept for well over fourteen hours and yeah, he definitely feels like it.

It's surprising to say the least, because he was prepared to wake up several times, maybe even be unable to fall back asleep should that happen, but for once in his life he slept through the night.

Well, nothing to do about it now, he decides and makes his way to the kitchen, his grumbling stomach reminding him that he needs to eat and fast only to let out the most unmanly shriek he can manage when a mop of ash-blonde hair turns into his direction and red eyes pierce him with their gaze.

"What the fuck!" Hitoshi yells out, hand clutching his chest and he fears his heart might just jump straight out and run away.

"Good morning to you, too," Bakugo says in the most condescending way he can manage and Hitoshi takes a moment to get his breathing back under control.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asks once he's sure his voice will hold and Bakugo turns enough to sling an arm over the back of the couch.

"Listen, if you had died and the last person you were seen with were me, Sparky would murder me in cold blood," Bakugo says as if that makes any sense, as if he couldn't explode Denki before he even gets close.

"So what? You spent the entire night here?" Hitoshi asks and his eyes fall to the shirt Bakugo is wearing.

That is most definitely not what he was wearing yesterday afternoon.

"Don't be daft now, I went home."

"And then came back?"

"Yeah?"

"And broke my lock?"

"I took your keys, dumbass."

"Oh, because that's so much better," Hitoshi mutters and he doesn't understand what's going on.

He's craving coffee.

"There's a pot ready," Bakugo says with a nod towards the kitchen as if he can somehow read Hitoshi's thoughts and Hitoshi decides that this is a problem for after-coffee-Hitoshi.

After-coffee-Hitoshi has to face past-Hitoshi's problem way too soon, though, because there's indeed a pot of coffee ready and so it barely takes two minutes for him to be caffeinated.

Which reminds him of the sports drink that had been waiting for him.

"Hey," Hitoshi awkwardly says as he goes back into the living-room, cup of coffee clutched to his chest as if Bakugo might take it from him at any moment. "Why peach flavoured?"

"Cause it's your favourite, moron."

"How—how the hell do you know that?" Hitoshi demands to know because this entire interaction is completely catching him off guard and he has no clue what's going on, except that Bakugo is in his home, and he seems relaxed, and he made coffee for Hitoshi and he's not exploding his head off.

Hitoshi might still be asleep actually.

"What's my favourite flavour?" Bakugo shoots back instead of answering and Hitoshi answers without thinking much about it.

"You don't care about the flavour because you chug them like they are oxygen. I don't think you've ever tasted even one of them. You would never touch a cherry-flavoured one, because you hate that flavour in general," he answers and then goes slightly red in the face because he and Bakugo are nowhere near close enough for him to know that.

He just knows that because he's a creep with a crush and he has maybe been looking a little much.

"Yeah. That's how I know your favourite, too," Bakugo says, suddenly strangely guarded and it takes Hitoshi a moment to parse through his meaning but when he finally does he nearly drops his coffee.

Holy fuck, Bakugo Katsuki has been paying attention to Hitoshi.

This has to be a dream.

"You're leaving for overseas in two days," Hitoshi blurts out and he's going to blame all his blunders on the unusual feeling of being rested.

He's not used to that; clearly his body doesn't know how to handle it. It’s a good excuse.

"And that's why we're doing this fucking now," Bakugo snaps, and Hitoshi is delighted to see that he's embarrassed about something.

"You—what? Honestly thought I'd mind this,” Hitoshi awkwardly gestures between them, “and you could use those two weeks to pretend nothing happened? Bakugo, seriously, I've had the hots for you since our third year," Hitoshi admits and it's almost not mortifying at all to admit that, especially when Bakugo goes delightfully red in the face.

"You're so embarrassing," Bakugo snaps out and Hitoshi can only laugh in delight. "And besides. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and all that crap."

"Oh, the heart is not the only thing that's going to grow with the distance," Hitoshi immediately shoots back, wiggling his eyebrows for good measure too and it takes Bakugo a moment but then he cracks up, laughing so hard he leans forward and Hitoshi thinks he might have never seen a more beautiful sight.

It takes Bakugo a while to compose himself again but Hitoshi is not complaining. He enjoys seeing Bakugo like this, relaxed and happy and in his home and so Hitoshi is going to stare as much as he pleases, thank you very much.

But Bakugo does grow serious eventually and he nods towards the kitchen.

"I also made food. Go get some, before you starve or whatever."

"You're being so mean to me, you shouldn't order me around when we only have like two days left," Hitoshi pouts, absolutely prepared to see how far Bakugo will let him push and he only pouts some more when Bakugo stares him down.

"So go get your goddamn food and then come the fuck here," he says, each word distinctly pronounced and it still takes a meaningful glance from Bakugo to the space next to him on the couch for Hitoshi to catch up.

"Oh. Oh! You want me to come cuddle up to you, yep, I'm on that, gimme a moment!" Hitoshi rushes out and hurries back into the kitchen, not listening to Bakugo's cries of outrage.

He stayed in Hitoshi's apartment, and he knows his favourite flavour of sport drinks and he made food so really, there is nothing Bakugo gets to complain about right now.

Hitoshi shoves his food into the microwave for approximately five seconds before he decides that he can eat it cold, too, and then he's back in the living-room, almost throwing himself on the couch and therefore right into Bakugo's space.

He grumbles some more but he does lean back and lift his arm to let Hitoshi cuddle real close and really, in this moment, it wouldn’t matter if Hitoshi was about to keel over dead.

It would be worth it for just this moment.

"Gods, would it kill you to not be a fucking caveman for a second and actually heat your goddamn food up like a normal person?" Bakugo wearily asks as he eyes the cold plate in Hitoshi's hands.

"Yes," Hitoshi says with his mouth full and grins when Bakugo pulls a face. "May I remind you that you wanted this?"

"May I remind you that you had an embarrassing crush on me for years?"

"It's you, there's nothing embarrassing about it," Hitoshi immediately gives back and he never thought Bakugo's face could go that soft, but he wants to see it more.

"Just eat, dumbass."

"Will you make me warm food eventually?" Hitoshi asks after a moment and Bakugo rolls his eyes.

"Yes, I'll cook for you when I come back from my mission."

Hitoshi doesn't waste a second.

"Great, it's a date."

#bt writes #beetober2024 #shinbaku #shinsou hitoshi #bakugo katsuki #bnha #mha #getting together #banter #fluff #humour #trust #caretaking

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pastelvelvett-2nd · 3 months ago

Text

Yandere!Harper x Female!Reader

[♡] Last chapter

Chapter 2: Only human

Summary: A week has past, and your second tutoring session with Harper is today. It's rather inconvenient that the entirety of the night, her mind is far too preocuppied with thoughts of you to sleep, even the slightest bit. The perfect mask she built slipping in front of you would be her worst nightmare, and in all likelyhood, it probably would happen today, given her current state.

Word count: 5,230 words

Note: Hello again! This will first of the two promised version with male and female reader. The fact that I took a while to post this is made even more hilarious by the fact that I literally had to edit exactly one word in this whole thing, considering this story is in second person. I was about to decide to not post these at all, but then I realized that there will be more mentions of the reader's gender as the story goes on so it's worth posting this one too so we can have the full set. ...Okay I ramble a lot even for Author's notes, cool, good to know. Anyway hope you enjoy re-reading or reading for the first time! Here's to hoping I won't take another year to post the next chapter (haha dw I totally won't guys)

What did Harper truly care about in the world? It wasn’t directly related to what she was doing, like it tends to be for a lot of people. She couldn’t think of many things she did at all that came from mere enjoyment. The girl did everything she did not for the act of it in itself, but what she would gain from going through with it. Often, it felt like even small decisions and actions on her day to day life were strategies, as insignificant as they may have looked to those around her. Small actions and decisions that build up to make a portrait of herself others could enjoy. That’s why, her newly found, constant thoughts didn’t make sense to her. For nights in a row, she’d tumble and shift in bed incessantly, thoughts burdened and confusing. They didn’t start off as something she was bothered by, though. First, she had a fuzzy feeling inside of her as she thought back to your first tutoring session. Your entrancing frame and beautiful face burrowed itself in her mind, laid their eggs that would lead to more, to the point it was the only thing she could see whenever she closed her eyes. Your words, your tone, soft and comforting like a lullaby, replayed themselves in her head. Except, of course, unlike a regular lullaby, it just had to have had the exact opposite effect on her, about as damaging as three cups of coffee back to back would be at this hour. That’s where her pleasant thoughts started seeming to be more concerning, than anything. Why was she considering something so intently, when she didn’t have any real conclusion to these thoughts? Harper had gotten obsessed with things before, it was pretty much an integral trait to her already, but it was always for the sake of gaining something. The fact she didn’t understand what was happening to her was concerning in its own right. The girl let out a shaky, unnerved sigh as she, in a brisk movement, got up to a sitting position on her bed. Harper peered downwards at her soft blanket. It had a childish print; A repeated pattern of a cute, chibi cat sleeping, the whole thing being colored in varying shades of pink. Thinking back at everyone she talked to on a regular basis, it was clear as day they’d think she’s immature for secretly liking this sort of thing. How would you react, though? Would you be disappointed that she’s not truly a mature person, or would you be okay with that? Something told her you weren’t like them, preoccupied with what looks socially acceptable.

“Oh, crap…” Harper gritted her teeth, leaning forward as she covered her scrunched up face the second she realized. She couldn’t believe it. Her mind wandered to something other than you for one second, and that thought was so quick to turn right back to you. This clearly wasn’t something she could push out of herself by just laying down in bed, maybe if she did something, she could take her mind off of it. The girl looked up, her lavender eyes rapidly darting from her left to right to identify where on Earth she left her phone before she started sleeping. Or… Trying to, anyway. Ah… On the end table next to her, of course. Did she ever leave it anywhere else? Why did she even ask herself where it was to begin with? Harper stretched her body to the right to grab onto her phone and pull it from her charger. It was still warm to the touch from having charged for- she didn’t know for how long. Her eyes, used to the darkness of her room, tried adjusting to the bright, unnatural light the phone gave off as soon as she turned it on. Admittedly, the overly cutesy brightly colored wallpaper didn’t help much with this achieving this.

Oh…

Crap again.

Harper cringed at the sight of the time, 5:49 AM. It took her a full hour drive to get to college, so really, she only had an hour at her disposal. She couldn’t remember the last time that she stayed up the whole night without realizing it, if it ever happened to begin with. Normally, she goes to bed at 10PM sharp, and falls asleep only a few minutes later. Just what had you done to her?

Surely it wouldn’t be surprising to say that Harper couldn’t sleep in the one hour she had left. Instead, she worried incessantly about how that day was the second tutoring session she had with you, and the only thing she was running on was anxiety that kept her more or less alert. Still, the lack of sleep made her nowhere near as sharp as she’d hope to be for it. If anything, in her current state, you’d be the one able to teach her. Still, she had to put her best foot forward. She managed to get through the school day, yes, with a few weird looks from people that knew she was behaving strangely, but she was still able to jot down notes with… Some readability to them.

As Harper waited for you to join her in the back of the library, she lowered her face to get a better look at what she now recognized as being hieroglyphs that were intended to represent the English language in her notebook, coming to the morbid realization that she was deluding herself into thinking she’d been doing better than she actually was. She supposed she didn’t do very well with lack of sleep… Maybe because she was always strict with herself on getting a full night of rest, like her parents were with her while she was growing up.

—

Second week, second tutoring session with Harper. You had to admit that you were incredibly nervous, but thankfully less so now, since you noticed how approachable she was to you the last time. A part of you was fully expecting her to be the type of popular person to act incredibly sweet to some people, and horribly nasty towards those that have a less than stellar reputation, like you did. If anything, she seemed even more genuine and brighter when you talked to her one on one than in a classroom setting.

You inhaled then exhaled, paused in front of the library door, trying to remind yourself of these things. You’re fine. Just focus on learning, she wouldn’t judge you for being incredibly stupid (even though compared to her, you clearly are).

The library was very quiet, which was certainly a good thing for you. You could only see one person reading in a chair relatively close to the door. Not someone you recognized, from what you could tell. The guy gave you a weird, slightly judgemental look for just a second, which was enough to make you shrink and wonder if you did something strange. You weren’t sure if you were just being paranoid, it wouldn’t be the first time you imagined someone judging you. God, just focus… Find Harper. She’s chill. You’ll be fine with her. You hurriedly went deeper into the library, the stacks of books you needed for today held tightly against your chest. You were quick to spot her, sitting at the furthest table and staring down a notebook. Her face was pale enough that she looked like she saw a ghost, and unlike you, it didn’t seem like she spotted you nearly as fast.

She narrowed her eyes, nearing her face to the paper to get a better look while also lifting it. You had to wonder what made reading what’s there so difficult. It kind of looked like someone else’s handwriting, from what you could see, so maybe she borrowed someone’s notebook for some reason and was having some trouble reading it because she wasn’t familiar with the way they wrote. Another thing that was interesting to you- Harper tended to be… How should you say this without sounding rude (because though you’re obviously the only person listening in on your thoughts, you still would feel guilty if you thought something mean about someone that only treated you with kindness so far). She was always more attentive to the world around her than this, let’s call it. While you were 100% the type of person to look around disoriented when you go to meet a friend at any location, you always thought people like Harper were exempt from having those kinds of moments. Well, Harper is human, afterall… Like anyone else, she can get distracted.

You guessed that calling out to her would be a better idea, since you were starting to feel a bit creepy just looming over her. You didn’t doubt it would look suspicious if anyone saw you, they’d most likely think you were stalking her (and doing a pretty bad job at it, honestly).

“H-Harper, hel-”

The second you spoke out with a shaky voice and an awkward smile, she jumped up from her seat with a dramatic gasp and looked up at you wide eyed like you’re about to attack her. She dropped the notebook on the table in time with the gasp, making it fall and slide further to the other side of the surface, where you were. You looked down at the notebook that was just in Harper’s grasp briefly, which was enough to make her panic further and take it, sliding it in her backpack hastily. That was… Strange of Harper. You never once saw her like this, or heard of anyone seeing her like this. It looked like she was hiding a murder plot that she wrote about or something, though that was obviously not possible. Plus, you doubted the notebook was even hers to begin with. Maybe she wanted to copy someone’s notes or homework and she was ashamed she’d get caught…? But then again, why was only this mystery person’s out, and not Harper’s, too?

“OH! Y/N!” Harper exclaimed, a bit too loud for something she’d say in the library. “Hi! You’re…” She looked up to the clock with squinted eyes. …Maybe she needed to get new glasses, and that’s why she was squinting at that notebook, too? “Oh. Exactly on time.” Ouch.

“Haha… Surprised? I wouldn’t want to waste your time making you wait for me, Harper.” You laughed nervously, pulling out a chair to sit down next to her, careful to not place it too close to hers. She was already pretty jumpy, by default, the last thing you’d want to do is worsen her emotional state. Something… Clearly must’ve happened to cause her change of behavior. You didn’t think you had it in you to pry. The two of you weren’t terribly close or anything, afterall. That would probably make her uncomfortable. Harper was much quicker to reply to this than she was in noticing you.

“Oh, wait, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that… I meant I thought it was earlier than it actually was, so when I checked the time, I got surprised!” The pink haired girl tried her best to explain, as fast as humanly possible, so you wouldn’t have a misconception about what she meant for much longer. You eyed her in concern, studying her face. Upon closer inspection, beneath her eyes were dark bags that certainly weren’t there the day before. It didn’t look like she slept one bit last night, or if she did, she had very little. Maybe something was bothering her, and she couldn’t sleep? You didn’t know her personally at all, so you had no clue what could’ve happened. Interrogating her about it couldn’t be a good idea, so maybe giving her an easy out from having another tiring thing to do after uni would be the kindest course of action.

“You look… Pretty tired, Harper. Do you want to change the tutoring to tomorrow, or maybe some other day of the week? They should allow that, it’s still a tutoring session a week-” You couldn’t properly brace yourself over how immediate her response would be, even if you somehow knew about it ahead of time.

“No. No, we can do it today.” Harper’s voice was strangely firm, almost as if it was an order, rather than a confirmation. A few seconds of eerie silence passed before her different, frankly unusual demeanor melted away. “S-Sorry, I meant… I’m not really one to put things off. It’s a vicious cycle.” Oh, how nice it would’ve been to be her, and not your procrastinating self. It seemed like Harper was putting a genuine effort in pulling herself together, as evidenced by her straightening her back and clearing her throat. Her nervous, taken aback expression was turned into a calm and composed smile. Just how can she flip so quickly from one way of acting to another? It seemed like she’d be fairly good at something like improv acting or playing DnD, but you weren’t sure she was interested in either, or would be if she gave it a try. “Okay, sorry for the delay! We can start!” Realizing you still hadn’t sat down, you awkwardly shifted and moved towards the seat next to her, fighting off your immediate instinct to sit across from her instead. You supposed sitting right next to her was a lot more nerve wrecking of a concept, it was closer to her after all, so it made sense.

With Harper even closer, the marks under her eyes seemed far more pronounced, making your guilt over putting her through this deepen. Still, she was obviously doing this for the extra credit, so it was her own decision if she wanted to sacrifice her own comfort to get that week’s session out of the way. Harper was the type to take everything she did seriously, which was incredibly respectable to you.

As she introduced the subject of today’s focus (still under math, because God knows you needed it), you could see the energy and brightness she put forth just a few minutes earlier dissipate gradually. Harper’s speaking was slower, her pauses more frequent, and eventually, she even struggled to have her eyes be any wider than half lidded. Even more distracting was that her writing seemed a lot sloppier than I saw it be last week, enough for it to be very possible that the notebook she had in front of her earlier was actually hers. This wasn’t something you could commentate on openly, at least not if you pointed out the specific telltale signs she had of being sleep deprived. But maybe if you insisted you end the tutoring session early after a bit of time had past, she’d be more likely to accept it.

“Okay, so now that you know the formula to that, let me just write down an example before you try one on your own.” The pink haired girl slid her math notebook closer to her side of the table and began writing down a math problem, tired eyes deeply focused. Then she started solving it, her mouth twitching slightly at some point, followed by her eyebrow doing the same. It really seemed like Harper was unsure of what she was writing down. You knew she probably meant for you to look at it after she was done, and peeping would be a bit mean, but your curiosity simply couldn’t wait. You scooted closer, making Harper’s body freeze like a deer caught in headlights the second that she finished writing the final result. Your eyes narrowed and studied each line of calculations. It… Didn’t really sound right. At all.

”Oh… I kinda thought it would be something like this.” Harper allowed you to take the notebook from under her and watched you attentively with no readily apparent emotion. You quickly wrote down the solution that you thought would be correct right below hers, looking to her when you were done for some sort of feedback. Harper seemed the slightest bit horrified, her mouth opening wordlessly and her eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Is it… That wrong?” Harper blinked a few times, looking bewildered as she took the notebook back and read through my solution several times over rapidly.

“No… It’s correct. I…” Harper gulped nervously, seeming not so eager to continue her sentence. She looked up towards her own solution, silent for a bit longer. “I was completely wrong. This… Is completely idiotic, what’s wrong with me? It’s like if an elementary schooler tried to solve this!” Harper’s tone raised, and her breathing quickened. Her concern from earlier was a bit more than you expected, but this state of panic was way beyond that.

”Harper, it’s okay, really! Everyone makes mistakes-“

”Not me!” Harper’s head was lowered in shame, hands shaking to the point she was barely able to hold the notebook properly. Tears quickly welled up in her violet eyes, and it took no time at all for them to drip down her face and for her to close her lids, probably from the stinging effect her tears left in their wake. She sobbed and sobbed, leaving you speechless. “I… Can’t. I’m not allowed to.” Her voice was weak and quieter this time, the slightest bit rapsy from having raised her voice earlier. You had no clue how to comfort her properly, not knowing her well enough to know what worked and what didn’t. Everything you could try would be a shot in the dark.

You were so caught up in Harper’s emotions that you didn’t notice that the librarian had walked up to her. The middle aged brown haired woman placed a hand on Harper’s shoulder in a motherly way, and you could only hope that would be enough to make her feel at least a little bit better, because then you would know what you could do. “Honey, are you okay…?” Then, to your surprise, the woman moved her gaze from her to you, now far less compassionate and more pointed, more accusatory. “You didn’t say anything to her, did you?” Did it… Look like you were an awful person? You had no clue why so many people here expected the worst of you. Even the staff, apparently. Still, you felt an insane amount of guilt for not doing something to comfort her up until now. You wouldn’t be surprised if Harper would come to resent you for seemingly not caring, despite her trying to tutor you every week, even when she was so exhausted.

”No, t-they didn’t.” Her current state made the fact that she actually responded for you even more shocking. It was noble of her to think about how you were perceived, even when she seemed to be going through a panic attack. “I-I’m sorry for making a scene. This is a library, I s-shouldn’t disturb-“

“No, no honey. Please. Don’t think about that right now. Just focus on feeling better.” The librarian let go of Harper’s shoulder and looked towards me. “Y/N, was it?” You felt pretty bad that you didn’t remember her name, despite her remembering yours. “Please take Harper here to the counselor.”

”It’s a-alright, Mrs. Moore, I can go on my own.” Oh well, at least you knew her name now, that’s something. Harper stifled her sobs, making occasional sniffing the only obvious sign of her crying, besides of course, the tears streaming down her face. The girl took her notebook and stuffed it in her backpack quickly, slipping it onto her back. It seemed like Harper was trying to rush away before either of you could have the chance to protest.

“Wait.” You got up too, and grabbed onto her hand after she took just a few steps away. Immediately, as you looked down at her hand that was stiff from shock, a result of your sudden and probably socially unacceptable action (given how little time the two of you spent together), you came to regret that decision. Then you looked up, which was perhaps even worse, because you saw her staring at you with a confused, teary face. “Sorry for that, I just…” You tried taking your hand away from hers. This time, it was your turn to be shocked when Harper refused to let you go, holding your hand tight. You’d feel rather awkward bringing that up now, especially with Mrs. Moore being right there still, so instead, you decided to continue what you were meaning to say. “I really want to do something to help. Taking you to the counselor is the least I could do.” Harper just stared at you in shock for a few good seconds that might as well have been an eternity, given how bad your perception of time was after her sudden show of emotion earlier. Then, she chuckled, smiling. Her eyes brightened, and her breathing seemed to be steadier than it was before. It was pretty interesting, because she didn’t give Mrs. Moore this look of gratitude and happiness after she tried to comfort her. First, you assumed maybe Harper just didn’t feel that okay with physical touch, so her putting her hand on her shoulder didn’t help. Still, she talked to her, too, and she had a more gentle tone that should’ve had more of an effect, yet it didn’t. Maybe Harper didn’t much like Mrs. Moore? That was your best guess.

”Thank you. I-If… You’re okay with that, I’m okay with that too.”

You didn’t really expect Harper to immediately say yes, but needless to say, it made you relieved. You weren’t really one to insist with anything, it was too nerve wracking to demand something of anyone. Still though, you were pretty sure that demanding to go with her, a grown adult that barely knew you, was an objectively morally wrong thing to do that you wouldn’t have done even if you had a backbone.

—

You started leading Harper to the counselor’s office, the both of you incredibly quiet. It honestly felt a tad bit awkward for you to be leading her somewhere on campus, when you barely started going here a few months ago and still get lost sometimes, even now. You weren’t sure for how long, but Harper probably had been going here for a significantly longer time than you. It seemed like she knew the layout pretty well, even now, in her sleep deprived state. If anything, you were there for emotional support. You felt rather useless for not being able to give that emotional support, and instead be completely quiet.

“I’m sorry for-“

”I’m sorry for-“

Much to your shock, you both apologized at the same exact time, causing you and her to stop dead in your tracks. After a few seconds of bewilderment, the two of you laughed a bit at the coincidence. Not in a boisterous way, it was rather impossible to be too cheerful with the things weighing on both of your minds. But it was a soft, content laughter. You didn’t know about her, but it made you a bit more comfortable at that moment. This and her show of emotion earlier made you realize that as different as she may look to be from you, you may have more in common than you first assumed.

“That was interesting. …What are you sorry about?” You asked her, smiling and beginning to walk again. Harper began stepping forwards immediately, herself. You looked to your left and saw her looking downwards at the white, well cleaned tiles of the hall. You supposed what she wanted to say made her uncomfortable enough to want to avoid eye contact.

“For ruining today. For all I know you could’ve had a normal, happy day, and I just ruined it for you. Or, possibly even worse, maybe you had an awful day and I made it even more horrible.” Harper breathed out, seeming to be even more tired out by her own emotions. “I stood in the way of things being normal.”

”Harper…” You eyed her with sympathy, initially unsure of what to say. “It’s not your fault. You must’ve gotten no sleep at all, and there has to be something in the back of your mind upsetting you that was worsened by how tired you are.”

“It is my fault. Who else’s fault is it that I didn’t sleep last night like a normal person?” It looked to you that Harper was trying so very hard to maintain “normal”… Her idea of what a normal person was seemed to be pretty warped.

“Normal people have bad days, sometimes you can’t get sleep. Some things just… Aren’t anyone’s fault at all.” Harper’s brows knit together, and she searched your face for an answer to a question you weren’t aware of. A few seconds later, she smiled, humming softly and looking forward again.

“I appreciate that… Um… What were you going to apologize for?”

For a moment, you forgot you even apologized at all earlier. You got far too caught up with her apology to continue thinking about it. Her apology was about something pretty complex actually, as simple as her opening for this topic was. It made you realize that your reason for apologizing was so much smaller, to the point it would be fairly accurate to say that it was pretty much for filling dead air. You chuckled a bit. “For being quiet.”

”Oh no, there’s no reason for you to apologize for that. I understand why you’d be quiet… You probably don’t know how to react properly after my outburst.” Harper looked downwards with a subtle sadness. Earlier, she seemed to have liked when you held her hand… Would she feel better if you did it again? Before you could argue yourself out of doing it because of your anxiety over making her uncomfortable, you just did it, reaching out and gently holding her hand. That time, Harper didn’t seem quite as shocked. Instead, she welcomed the touch immediately, even holding onto your hand tighter as if she was afraid of you letting go. The very same way as she did previously. She smiled, though she still refused to make eye contact.

”It’s okay. Really. I’m not judging you for being human.” Harper’s smile dropped, and you immediately began to worry you did something to upset her. Even worse, that was the moment that she chose to look at you. In her eyes was a strong, burning emotion that you couldn’t pin down with any real certainty.

”Y/N…” Harper still faced towards you, but her eyes darted elsewhere. “I have to tell you something.” She paused, and built the courage to look back to me after a bit. “I wasn’t going to go to the counselor’s.”

”Huh…?” You raised an eyebrow at this and stopped walking again, Harper deciding to do the same. Why on Earth didn’t she say so? She could’ve told you the second the two of you left the library, if she was just worried about the librarian pressuring her about it.

“I was going to walk with you until the beginning of the hall the counselor’s office is in and tell you I can walk to it from there. Then I’d wait for you to leave. I was going to go out to get some fresh air on my own, get everything out of my system and continue with our session.” Would that… Really work? What if you decided to stand there and wait for her to get in before you left? Your face was marked with confusion as you tried to make sense of why it would be a big deal at all for her to refuse to go somewhere.

“I… Understand that you probably didn’t feel like you needed to go to the counselor anymore, but I just don’t know why you wouldn’t tell me. Did you think I’d get disappointed with you if you didn’t go?” Harper paused, biting her lip uncomfortably. You weren’t her mother, and even if you were, you would’ve understood that she didn’t need it.

”I don’t know if I really need it or not. I just don’t want it, and that’s all I was thinking about. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but… My parents put me through therapy at some point growing up, and I can’t say it helped much, to say the least. Anything that reminds me of that could only make me feel worse.” It seemed like she didn’t want to respond to your question, but from what you could tell based on her reaction, you most likely hit the nail on the head. “You must think I’m a pretty awful person for wanting to lie to you like that… But I realized how little you deserved to be lied to, and how uncomfortable I felt about doing it to begin with, so I just had to tell you.” Harper sighed out, body language seeming a bit more agitated now than before. When she noticed you weren’t responding immediately, she looked towards your eyes with unmistakable panic. “I’m really sorry.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay, really. I’m not mad.” After you gave her an encouraging squeeze of the hand, her eyes lost some of the anxiety it held in them. You were incredibly relieved to see her calm down a bit. “Let’s go together.”

”Outside…? Oh.” Harper blinked in surprise. It seemed like she didn’t think you offering that would be a possibility. “Yeah, we can go... I’ll be honest, I’m a bit surprised you still want to spend time with me after the way I acted.”

”Acted like what, a normal human with emotions? I get it, I’m human too, regardless of what some people may say.” You tried to joke around to brighten her mood, hoping it would work, as admittedly awkward as your attempt felt. Thankfully, she giggled, marking this mission as a success.

Oh, how did Harper wish that other people could be like you were. You were understanding of her faults and mistakes, her humanity, something she never felt from someone else. At the very least, not in a sincere form. Memories of the fake kindness she received back when she went through therapy flooded her mind, and it made her want to vomit. Actually… Maybe she preferred this. Maybe she preferred it because it made you so much more special. It felt like in her eyes, you started growing more and more, and she realized what a unique, beautiful person you were. She was deeply terrified that unlike her, you began seeing her as pathetic, as the small, scared child she saw herself as every single day. Maybe if you knew about the way she thought about you last night, you wouldn’t be so kind any longer.

But surely, you weren’t fake. Your empathy was a sincere one, and finally, she found someone she could trust. Still, Harper was afraid. As much as she already trusted you, she knew she shouldn’t be hasty, especially when she didn’t even fully understand her own feelings quite yet. Not only that, but it wasn’t exactly normal to get attached to someone so quickly, she was certain. Letting the relationship develop naturally would be for the best, before she could voice this part of her. It was a shame that keeping these obsessive thoughts to herself was already becoming irritating to her.

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devilscreekballad · 3 months ago

Text

As a special treat, to bridge the waiting time, here's the first 7000 words of the new Interlude Chapter from Charlie's PoV.

I will post the full Interlude Chapters (Charlie, Meadows, and Lynwood) on Patreon once they are done, and then in the game once ch7 is ready to go live. Note, the interlude chapters won't have any choices, but you will be able to see the character's stats in the stat screen during them.

Enjoy, leave feedback, and please do ignore the code-formatting and typos Dx I hope Tumblr won't mess up formatting to direly >_>

~+~

Something is dreadfully amiss. The dreadful, icy and nauseating feeling spreading in your stomach has you know before you are even awake enough to realize that Matt is calling for you. Screwing your eye open you blink into the dimly lit room.

By all means, it's early in the morning, the sun hasn't even really risen yet, but Matt looks as if he's standing in broad daylight. On a quite foggy day, but nevertheless.

"What's wrong," you whisper, not awake enough to communicate coherently by thought, but not so sleepy that you would not take caution not to wake up $nick.

That's when you realize just //what// is amiss.

"Where's $nick?" you hush, your voice a croaking whisper, worry stealing your breath.

//'Kidnapped,'//Matt answers, with an expression of despair you reckon must mirror your own perfectly.

There are people, some of them self-proclaimed mediums, that claim that the dead lost their ability to feel emotions. Right now Matt is certainly proving them as wrong as it's humanly possible to prove someone wrong.

Hastily you rub your eye and light the lamp, fishing for your clothes as soon as you can see.

"What happened?" you demand, clambering out of bed and into your garments.

//'$fname had a nightmare again, I think'// Matt answers, taking a calming breath, //'$They got up, got dressed and went for a walk. Clear $their head, I'd assume. I didn't think big of it. But when $they didn't return I got worried and went to check, and… found this trio what kidnapped $them, headin' to a farm bit outside o' town. One in the middle o' the woods.'//

With a curt and disbelieving nod you sink back onto the bed, stopping mid-movement of pulling your boots on. How did you not notice $them leaving? How could you miss that? Biting back a whimper you finish getting dressed and grab your guns. Matt Stops You.

//'Charlie, don't. These guys are a bit too much to handle alone. An' it ain't just the three of them, don't even think o' goin' there on yer own,'// he goes, and you wince softly.

"I…" you stutter, flexing your hands nervously. With a deep breath you lean against the small table by the door and sort your thoughts. //'I won't,'// you answer in thoughts, pulling yourself together. Matt nods satisfied.

//'Where's that farm?'// you ask.

//'Past the woods north of town.'//, Matt answers.

With a curt nod you grab your coat.

//'Matt, is Mrs. Meadows awake?'//.

Matt vanishes briefly, reappearing with a nod.

//'Up since sunrise, so just a little bit longer than you.'//

//'Sounds about right.'//

Still trying to calm yourself you make your way down the corridor to Mrs. Meadows room, knocking urgently before you have even come to a full halt.

Mrs. Meadows opens, looking at you intrigued and a little confused, both expressions however shifting into that of alarmed worry as the implications of you being up at this early hour already sink in. Maybe you really ought to be more of an early bird at times, be less predictable.

"What's the matter?" Mrs. Meadows inquires, judging by her look she's doing a mental tally of how many of her medical supplies she'll need as well as how much scolding she'll have to do.

"$nick got kidnapped," you answer. And as you expected (well, it was one of several anticipated scenarios) Mrs. Meadows pulls you into the room, hastily closing the door behind you.

While Finley and Miss Florence — both already awake to your surprise — watch you quite baffled, you fill Mrs. Meadows in on what happened.

"I just woke up to find $nick gone, an'… " you pause, taking another calming breath, and looking at Mrs. Meadows. "We gotta do somethin'. For all I know $their kidnappers took $them to a farm 'bout an hour north of town."

Finley looks the most alarmed.

"Is $title $Name alright?" he asks, causing you to squirm a little.

//'$They <>were<>was<> when I headed back here,'// Matt tells you.

"For… all I know, yes," you answer the question, your voice shaking.

And Mrs. Meadows frowns, deeply and darkly. At a glimpse you can tell she's pondering just //why// someone would kidnap $nick.

"You certainly made yourself a lot of enemies," she says, her nose wrinkling ever so slightly in dismay, but there's a twitch of her brow that indicates a stray thought that threw a much more positive light on you.

You narrow your eye at her, searching her face.

"I'd be surprised if that would not have been the case," you respond. your shoulders slumping a little. After all, it's true. In all the time you've been riding with $nick you may have seen some weird and marvelous things, gotten out of quite a number of unbelievable and peculiar situations, and messed with a broad array of odd and strange characters. That's bound to piss some fellers off.

"I hope yer willing to help us with this?", you continue, a little meekly.

"That depends on how you know what happened."

"Huh?"

Oh. Oh for crying out loud? Is she serious? By what you can fathom she apparently decided that you are in cahoots with the kidnappers.

She wrinkles your nose in open dismay now, and you glare back. Gracious, you came to her for help, she's expecting the worst it'd seem: Probably that you are trying to lure her out of town, dispose of her and then make a run for it. As if you'd ever.

Well, alright, you would make a run for it, under very different circumstances, but you see no reason to harm her, so why would you?

"What? Do you think this is a ruse to get ya off our backs?" you ask, bluntly, and rather annoyed.

"Indeed," she respond coldly.

You grimace, drawing a deep, sharp breath. You knew it, and you hate every second of it. You need to calm down, urgently. This won't do you good if you're not getting your mind remotely clear, and it will do $nick even worse. Alright. From the start again, with the truth this time.

"Matt told me," you cry out, exasperated, holding Mrs. Meadows's gaze. A twitch of the eyes and a slightly, sharp intake of breath. Yes, she's not pleased with this information and she's not believing it, as you expected. "Look, I know ya don't believe I can speak to the dead, but…"

Mrs. Meadows straightens her posture more than you'd think possible (what you can tell is that she didn't even do it intentionally), somehow managing to make you feel as if she's glowering down at you despite being about half a foot smaller than you.

"Correct. I don't," she says. "But you //are// shaken to your core, and; despite all I have heard about your capabilities as an actor, I will give you the benefit of the doubt that you are not up to anything stupid. Because, must I remind you just who'd be on your tail if this goes sideways?"

You let out a long, exhausted breath. A part of you is furious that she'd believe you are out for betrayal, as if you wouldn't know Blayne would be on your tail. And all just because being able to talk to ghost isn't part of her understanding of the world.

For crying out loud.

But at least she is willing to… help? Play along? You better be careful.

"So… yer goin' to help, right?" you ask, trying not to have your voice waver too much.

"Naturally," she answers. //'Charlie?'//

//'Mnn?'//

//I've just checked the farmstead. There were about a dozen men at there when I left, and I have a feeling there might be more to arrive,'// Matt tells you, //'But… Those men… It's odd… I don't think are with those that actually kidnapped $fname.'//

//'What do ya mean?'//

//'The men that did the kidnappin'… They were yer petty crooks, ruthless but without much of a plan or wits. Well, the youngest one seems to have something going on in his brain, but he ain't inclined to make much use of that. And then there's this other guy… Wiry, flaxen-haired feller named Wilkie, if I heard it right. Creeps me out like nothing else.'//

That's not good. Matt never was someone easily shaken, and that hasn't change in death.

//'But those men at the farm…'// Matt shudders. //'They're yer typical hired muscle, just the kind rich bastards like most.'//

"Fuck…" you mutter, earning surprised and confused glances from the people around you. Hastily you fill them in on what Matt just told you.

Mrs. Meadows searches your face, but nods soberly and heads out of the room. Knowing her she's out to wake O'Brian and Burke. Matt vanishes for a moment, confirming the notion as he returns shortly after.

"This is terrible," Miss Florence says, and you look at her. "I'm so sorry to hear this."

"Thank you, miss. And it's my fault," you say, your mind still racing.

"Oh, don't say that," Miss Florence goes. "I mean, you didn't hire those goons, did you?"

"I…" you begin and blink, a sad smile tugging on your lips. "I'm just worried."

"And I think you can see this through.

With a heavy, gloomy sigh you shake your head. You really don't know. You have been in similar situations, but <>things have changed now, throwing a very different light on things<>with everything that happened lately..<>

You rub your brow, shaking your head again.

"Oh, please don't despair," Miss Florence says, smiling at you concerned and full of hope and honesty. "I'm certain you can see this through. Going by all I have by now seen and heard of you."

This causes you to pause.

"Thank you," you say, pressing your eye shut and forcing yourself to calm down. You are grateful for Mrs. Meadows returning that moment, Burke and O'Brian in tow.

It's quite curious to see the two young men like they appear right now. Given their usual demeanor one might expect them to take a while to get ready when roused from their sleep, but here they stand, wide awake, and with an air of grim determination about them. It would seem <>that no matter how rough a start they and $nick had with each other, the<>the<> two have taken quite a liking to $nick.

"Can't catch a break, can we?" O'Brian mutters, and you spot some unmistakable concern on his face, even though at first glance his tone might sound annoyed.

"Yer really great at pissin' people off that they went an' kidnapped $Name," Burke adds, "Wouldn't wanna be in the shoes of either of ya."

"Too kind, really," you grouse, but then again you know that Burke doesn't mean it in any condescending or insulting way. He just has the tact of a broken metronome.

And, as Mrs. Meadows before, he's not wrong.

Maybe $nick has a better point about starting a new life than you are willing to admit.

"So, what now?" Burke then asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, itching to do something.

"There aren't many options other than setting out to save $title $Name ourselves," Mrs. Meadows answers. "Getting the local law involved would be favorable, but I assume that whoever kidnapped $them might possibly kill $them at any sight of the sheriff or similar."

The others nod, and you try to fight off the bad feeling still weighing you down, when Matt nudges your shoulder. //'Charlie?'//

//'Yes?'//

//'Just remembered something. These men talked about usin' $fname as a bargaining chip.'//

//'Bargaining chip? What for?'//

Matt shrugs.

//'No idea…'// he paused, scratching his head. //'Somethin' 'bout exchangin' $fname for their boss' sister? Can't make heads or tails of it.'//

//'Ya did what ya can to help. Thank you.'//

Your mind is racing. For what would anyone consider $nick as a bargaining chip? Who's sister? Is this about Miss Florence? This makes no sense.

"It would seem these men kidnapped $nick to exchange $them for their boss' sister," you inform the others, rubbing your chin in thought. "That's what Matt says, at least."

"I am still reluctant to rely on a supposed ghost's information, but right now it's all we got," Mrs. Meadows responds, putting her best face forward, but she's very obviously displeased.

"Oh, I think we can trust this," O'Brian counters, earning a quite hearty hum of agreement from Miss Florence. Which in turn earns her a surprised look from the young man.

Meanwhile you are still trying to put the pieces together. So, there //is// the possibiloty that all of this is all but a brutal misunderstanding by Miss Florence's family. That they think you are holding Miss Florence hostage or something, and are now trying to exchange her for $nick. For all Miss Florence has told you about her family, they might be quite protective of her (especially since Robert's death) But you did not get the impression that they'd go this far. At all.

But you know not to rule things out unless you have facts to justify it.

"Miss Florence, if I may," you begin. "Permit me the question, I don't mean to insult ya, but… do ya have a brother who could and would do such a thing?"

Miss Florence blinks, sitting up in bed.

"No," she says, searching your face. "I mean, I have a brother, but he's in Lyon at the moment. Lyon in France, that is. I think there's some Lyons here in America, but, no, he's in France."

Good, that's rules out. Not that it felt as if there was much a basis to rule it in to begin with.

Shaking your head you lean against the wall.

"Hey," Burke suddenly speaks up."What about that bitch that tried to kidnap Miss Florence here?"

Oh, of course! You hate how rattled you must be to have overlooked this.

"Mrs. Robiquet?" Miss Florence asks equally surprised and innocently. "Ya know her?" Burke bursts out, and you share that surprised. Everyone in the room does, by all means.

"She… she's been a nurse at Merryborne," Miss Florence says. "I mean, I know her, didn't really talk to her, but that's why I was quite… freaked out when she showed up at the sheriff's office."

The rest of you exchange knowing glances.

"This Mrs. Rob….?" you begin.

"Robiquet," Miss Florence answers.

"This Mrs. Robiquet… What //do// ya know 'bout her?" you ask, and raise a gentle hand. "I hope I'm not ripping open old wounds."

Miss Florence ponders, and albeit she tries to not let it show, you spot the slight shiver shaking her thin frame, the nervous biting of her lower lip, before she draws a deep, calming breath, and leans back, recounting things.

"Not much", she says. "She was a nurse at Merryborne, and… she often was around where I was held, but I only know her name from hearing it from the other staff members." Suddenly Miss Florence's face lights up with a realization. "Oh! But I'm certain she does have a brother. I remember her rambling about how he has more than enough money to pay for her train tickets if he wants her to visit him. And that he should just buy the train if he doesn't want to do that."

With a small, knowing hiss you look first at Matt, then at the others.

"Rich family then," you note. Miss Florence nods, and you run a hand through your hair, anger and disgust growing in your chest.

"Hold up," O'Brian interrupts, pinching the bridge of his nose in desperate thought. "If these wankers kidnapped $Name to exchange $them for that Robiquet woman, how do they expect that to work?" He frowns as this is met with confused looks. "I mean, $Name is an outlaw, right? An' this Robiquet woman tried to kidnap Miss Florence //and// kill the sheriff an' his men. There's not really anythin' to exchange like that. So, how the Hell do they expect this plan to work?"

"Ya know very well that with rich people like that their intelligence is inversely proportional to the amount o' money they got," Burke deadpans, looking a little proud at himself when he realizes he got that term correct.

"Can't argue with that," you grunt.

"What…" Finley pipes up, making you twitch briefly as you had completely forgotten that the boy is here as well. "What if they wanna blackmail Mr. Mulligan into breakin' this Robiquet woman out?"

Well, there it is. You reckon the boy is spot on. Smart kid, and you mean it.

"That would unfortunately make a lot of sense," you mutter, sunken in thought, but still giving the boy an approving glance. "I certainly wouldn't put it beyond people like that to try such a thing."

"So, we're gonna go about this assuming that's the case?" O'Brian ventures, and you nod.

"An' we better hurry," you say, pushing yourself off the wall, checking your gun and heading out into the corridor… …only to very nearly crash right into Agent Lynwood.

"Mr. Mulligan," he greets, dryly, but with an air of surprise and maybe even relief. "I was just looking for you. Did not expect you to be up so early." Then he looks you over. "You look rather… exasperated."

Lynwood cranes his neck to look at the rest of the posse, furrowing his brow.

"I'm getting the impression something is quite amiss," he continues.

<>For a moment you consider lying to him to get him off your *if <=35 or $worriedforlyn>> back, but not only has $nick taken a bit of a liking to him, he's also proved himself to be far from as vile and obnoxious as he could have been. Considering things for a moment, you lower your voice. "$nick has been kidnapped, Agent Lynwood," you say, and Lynwood stares at you in disbelief. <> back, at the risk of causing a scene, when Mrs. Meadows speaks up. "$title $Name has been abducted," she states, nonchalantly, and Lynwood stares, quite baffled.<><>

"Come again?" he manages.

"Kidnapped," Mrs. Meadows repeats the information. "We are on our way to rescue $them."

By all means, you don't know what to make of her sharing that information like that. Lynwood, meanwhile, seems truly astonished.

"Just the four of you?" he asks, and you search his face and voice for signs of mockery. But all you find is genuine concern, curiosity and an immense lack of sleep. Although he's hiding the latter quite well. There's also a faint smell of alcohol, both the drinkable kind and the cheap cologne one.

"I reckon you should come with us," Mrs. Meadows then says, stepping past you. "You are a man of the law, Giles, as questionable as the methods of your agency may be."

"Hold it," O'Brian interrupts. "Didn't //you// just point out gettin' the law involved will get $Name killed?"

"The recognizable law, yes," Mrs. Meadows counters. "But Agent Lynwood's presence as a Pinkerton agent compared to a sheriff or marshal might be in our favor. He's far less recognizable as a man of the law." From Her Mouth To God's Ear. With a frown you roll your eye, just as the clicking and creaking of the doors along the corridor alarm you to the other guests on this floor getting angry or curious, if not both.

//'Charlie!'// It's been a while since you've seen Matt out of breath, mostly on account of him being dead for over a decade. But right now he is, meaning he jumped between the hereafter and the threshold quite quickly.

//'What?'//

//'Just talked to our new friends,'// he says, catching his breath. //'Ya should take Lynwood along. Several of the hired muscles in the group are greybacks from his old unit.'//

//'Yer kidding!'//

Matt shakes his head.

//'No such thing. But, good news, ya already sent two of'em to Hell back when they tried to kidnap Miss Florence. Still leaves two of'em alive.//

A curt nod and you grab Lynwood by the arm, making your way to the stairs. Lynwood protests, but you just glare at him.

"Listen, Agent," you begin as you head downstairs for his room. "For all we can tell these kidnappers are the kind o' hired muscle the rich and powerful of this fine nation love to hire when yer bloody agency is too mild-mannered for their taste and needs."

Lynwood pulls himself free from your grasp just as you reach his room, staring at you in growing alarm.

"How do you even know that?" he wonders, only to make a face that can only mean he realized, "Your ghosts, correct?"

"My brother, in fact."

Lynwood narrows his eyes at you. Not in a suspicious manner, but in way people do when they witness or think about something unpleasant and unsettling.

"Matthew, wasn't it? Read the story." He falls silent in thought.

"Listen," you snap. "If ya don't believe me, then say so. //Now//."

Lynwood knits his brow in thought. You realize he's actually wondering if //you// shouldn't know very well whether or not he believes you or not.

"It might surprise you," he then says, "but I do believe you. Wouldn't have sought your help if I wouldn't do so at least a little. So, these men… Your brother's certain about their nature?"

"Not just that," you answer, just as the rest of your group reaches you. "Two of'em have been part of yer old unit, //Bellegarde//."

Yes, it's unfair addressing him like that, given everything you've been informed about, but you figure that //this ways// he'll understand the gravitas of the situation much better.

The color drains entirely from Lynwood's face, before briefly coming back in a dark, angry red, only to fade again into a sickly pale hue as he first shakes his head, then nods curtly, pushing past you into his chambers.

"What was that?" O'Brian hushes.

"That's something the agent's ought to explain to you others himself if he feels it to be the right thing to do," you say, just as Lynwood emerges with his weapons in place.

"Let's make haste then," he says, and you follow him out to get your horses. It's odd, but for some reason—you reckon your brain is trying to distract itself from the Sword of Damocles hanging over your head— you particularly notice Lynwood's horse being a grey Missouri Foxtrotter mare with white sock and stocking markings on her hind legs.

"Where's $title $Name being kept?" Lynwood asks as you near the edge of the city, and you realize you haven't told him yet.

"The Honeysett farmstead a bit out of town," you answer. "Middle o' the woods."

Lynwood opens his mouth to ask something, but decides against it. By the look on his face, and the way his gaze flicks back and forth between you and Mrs. Meadows, you figure he, rightfully, assumes that talking about ghosts would only lead to unnecessary quarreling.

"Honeysett as in Isiah Honeysett?" Mrs. Meadows ventures.

"The same" you confirm.

"Take it your ghosts told you?" Lynwood interrupts. Just to make sure of his facts, by the sound of it.

"Not just any," you say. "Told ya it's me brother Matthew."

Lynwood turns to look at you and nods curtly.

"Sorry for your loss, by the by. Couldn't tell you earlier."

"That's kind of ya," you say with a curt nod, and you mean it. It's a bit unexpected hearing it from Lynwood, never the less. He's a Pinkerton after all, and given all his rambling about you being outlaws…

Huh, hold up.

"Agent Lynwood, do ya know anyone by the name of 'Robiquet'?"

Lynwood seems to ponder this, but shakes his head. His expression however reveals that that's not a 'no', and that the answer isn't sitting right with him.

"Not personally," he says. "Only by name. Rich family from Virginia or Alabama. Made their money in sugar and cotton, lost nearly everything after the war when they found themselves having to pay the people doing the work for them. Went into shipbuilding and mining now, I believe."

"How screwed is $Name in such company?" O'Brian muses out loud.

"$They <7>>could certainly be off much, much| couldn't be off<> worse," Burke answers, and you glare at both of them.

"Do you two ever think before you speak?" Mrs. Meadows scolds harshly, and both Burke and O'Brian sit up straight.

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Pull yourself together, you two," Mrs. Meadows continues, and the two utter a 'Yes, ma'am'.

And the group rides on.

It's not long till you can see the edge of the forest ahead, when something by some rocks and boulders nearby gets your attention. A Horse! It's a lonely horse build like a brick house, a <>chestnut Clydesdale (not $Name's, damn it)<>chestnut Clydesdale<>, saddled and trotting about nervously amongst the grass and rocks.

There's no need to signal the others to stop at the sight, as they all know better than to ride on carelessly, and Mrs. Meadows retrieves her rifle as Matt addresses you, looking rather awkward and guilty.

//'Umm…I should maybe have told ya 'bout this,'// he says, and you cast him a rather scolding glare.

//'Should we worry?'//

//'Maybe,'// he says and cranes his neck. //'Long story short, when those guys just came through here I spooked their horses, trying to get'em to stop. Overdid it a bit with the Clydesdale and she threw her rider off. Bloke hit his head on a stone and didn't get up again.'//

Somehow you feel more sorrow at that then dread or relief.

//'The others rode on, that Wilkie nearly shooting the other guy who was insisting on checking if the big guy mighta been still alive.'//

//'Take it that Wilkie didn't wanna waste time,'// you muse, when you hear a strained groan from a large rock near the horse.

"There's someone there," Burke alerts you at a movement, readying his gun.

You better tell them what Matt did, and quickly. So you do.

"Guy sure seems to be alive still," Burke notes as you finish relaying the information.

"What now?" O'Brian asks, and before you can answer, Mrs. Meadows marches over to the rock, rifle at the ready nevertheless.

What follows is her muttering in Cantonese, and you recognize she's swearing after a moment. Then she waves the group over, calling for you to get her her bag. Which You Do. The sight you find around the rock is a man the size of a grizzly or two laying slumped together against the stone. He's dizzy and disoriented, and the rock behind him is smeared with blood, but he's certainly alive.

"Didn't know angels can be Chinese," he mutters, seeing Mrs. Meadows, blinking blearily.

"I'm no angel, nor a demon, mainly on account of you not being dead," Mrs. Meadows retorts and crouches down before the man.

"My Holly got spooked, ma'am," the man continues. "She never does that. She's a good horse." Then he blinks. "Is it because we took that $Name? I said to Amos we shouldn't. But Amos said we need the money."

Well, at least that confirms that these are the guys Matt talked about.

"What's yer name?" you ask, stepping closer.

"Earl, sir," the man answers. "Earl Oakley."

"Like Annie Oakley?" you venture.

"I wish, sir. She's a fine woman, that Miss Oakley. Even if her name wasn't Oakley all the time. She's still a fine lass." Then the man looks closer at you. "Oh. Yer the other one Mr. Favor told us to take if we can't take $title $Name."

Jolly, innit?

Earl tries to sit up, only to get pushed back down by Mrs. Meadows.

"Hold still," she orders. "You got quite a nasty wound on your head, and I need to see to that."

"From the rock, ma'am, when Holly threw me off," Earl says, and you begin getting nervous again.

Matt nudges you gently, nodding you to keep calm.

It is however Lynwood who speaks up.

"Do we really have time for this?"

Mrs. Meadows turns around, glares, but her face quickly softens with a trace of guilt.

"I can't just leave him laying here," she says.

"Gotta give it to the Pink here," Burke speaks up. "If we wanna save $Name we oughta hurry."

At this Earl does pull himself up into a more upright position.

"$$title $Name will be fine, Mr. Favor said," he says. "Can't make a bargain with a broken chip, he said."

This isn't as reassuring as you'd like it to be…

Hmm…

"This 'Mr. Favor'," you begin. "What does he want $title $Name for?"

"The sheriff's got his sister because o' $title $Name an' you, an' Mr. Favor told us to go an' get ya //or// $title $Name, he said that very clearly. Get only one, not both. An' he said that will make the other get him his sister back. Amos said we could just go an' break her outta that cell, no big deal. Amos always says things are no big deal when they are, and Mr. Favor wouldn't hear any of it. Told us to do as he says. And to listen to this Wilkie. I like this Wilkie none, sir. Not even a bit."

There we go. Just as you feared.

"Guess we were spot on with our guess," O'Brian mutters, and kicks at the ground as Mrs. Meadows finishes patching Earl up. She then rises back to her feet, nodding Burke and O'Brian to help Earl back up.

"Earl, where did they bring $title $Name to?" she asks.

Earl points, guilt and thankfulness written equally on his face.

"That way, ma'am. In the woods. It's a farmstead, ma'am, with a big barn. Wilkie wanted to do away with the farmers, but I just knocked them out. Can you make sure they are alright?" Then he shuffles a little uncertain, sitting down again. "An'… an' can ya make sure Amos is alright as well? Amos isn't bad, ma'am. Not much at least. He tries, but he's no good at bein' bad. That's what he always tells me I am, but he is just the same."

Mrs. Meadows nods, and so do you, before Mrs. Meadows turns to O'Brian and Burke.

"You two are the best riders. You get this man back to…" before she can finish Earl grabs her wrist, startling her, his hand covering almost her entire lower arm.

"No, ma'am. Ya go an' get $title $Name. I'll wait here. An'… can you tell $them I'm sorry? $title $Name seemed nice, and Mr. Favor is nothin' but a bad man."

Mrs. Meadows looks at Earl for a moment, quickly checks him over again, before she nods and heads back to her horse, mounting up.

With a bit of hesitation you follow, after Matt reassured you to stay here and make sure Earl doesn't do anything you'd regret. A Little Later. There's a well-used track winding through the trees, leading to a sizable clearing in a shallow valley where the farmhouse is located. The trees along the edge of the little hollow provide plenty of cover and after leaving the horses nearby you edge closer, surveying the farm below.

There's a large barn, a paddock and a small orchard ready to be harvested to the left, and the farmhouse to the right. And a lot of open space between it. All of it occupied by grim looking men with more muscles than anyone should have, and as many morals as braincells.

"I'm countin' five… no six outside," O'Brian hushes, lowering his spyglass. "An' at least two in the farmhouse."

"So prob'ly more," Burke adds, "An' then some in the barn. At least them being in the farmhouse means the farmers are still alive. No need stationin' anyone there if that weren't the case."

The rest of you nods, agreeing to that.

"That makes at least eleven," you note sourly, weighing your chances, as a shiver runs down your spine.

//"Charlie?"// There's a dreadful, frightened tone in Matt's voice that, paired with the growing bad feeling, has you fear the worst.

//"What… what's wrong?"//

The pause Matt makes has your stomach turn.

//"It's $fname…"//

"No…" you manage in a choked whisper, slumping back, your stomach turning. "Please, God, no…"

//"$They<>'re<>'s<> alive,"// Matt hastily reassures you, looking quite panicked at your reaction. "But those fucks gave $them quite a beatin', dunno what happened. Ya gotta hurry."

"What's wrong?" Burke nudges you, and you realize everyone is looking at you with severe worry.

"It's $nick…$They", you begin and relay what Matt just told you. The alarmed and devastated looks on the others' faces is not at all reassuring.

"So we better make haste," Mrs. Meadows says, turning back to the farm. What Now… "Thinking about the best approach, aren't you?" Lynwood asks, brow furrowed darkly.

"Of course. Aren't you?" Mrs. Meadows retorts.

Lynwood snorts a humorless laugh.

"Not much to strategize here, is there?" he grunts. "We're outnumbered on either end of the farm, with the major part of our opponents right between the barn and the farmhouse. If we try to pick them off in either location their companions will rush in from the others and make short notice of us and their hostages."

"$Name and the farmers," Mrs. Meadows notes matter-of-factly, but your not really listening anymore.

It's a feeling as if you've swallowed something rotten whole, and it festers in your chest. A cold, stinging pain all through your body, wrapping icy tendrils around your heart <><> And one other feeling weighing you down even more: Guilt. Not for not waking up and thus getting $nick kidnapped, that wasn't your fault, as much as you blame yourself for it. No. It's the guilt and despair over not being honest with $nick about what you feel for $them. You //love// $them, for God's sake. No matter how $they might feel about you, whether or not $they <>reciprocate<>reciprocates<> your feelings, $they still ought to know how you feel. And now you might never even get the chance to tell $them. Not while $they<>'re<>'s<> still alive, at least, you muse, bitterly. <> And you know exactly why you are feeling like this: As high up as the euphoria from $nick reciprocating your feelings has had you soar, as deep is the valley of despair you are plunging into at the prospect of losing $them like this. All these years you've been riding together, all these years neither of you caught on on what the other felt, denied it even, felt it impossible. And just when you open up about your feelings, this happens. It's not the first time you fear for $nick, but it's so, so much worse now. <><>

"Bloody Hell!" Lynwood exclaims, ripping you from your gloomy thoughts. "You got to be kidding me!"

He lowers his binoculars and blinks.

"What?" you ask, and he points towards the man currently leaving the farmhouse, two men in tow. The man is small and stocky, sporting a sculpted mustache, and carrying an air of boisterous arrogance that is, unfortunately, appearing to be backed up by a ruthless cunning. There's also an undeniable resemblance to the woman that tried to kidnap Miss Florence.

Something else also strikes you as familiar, but you can't put your finger on it.

"You know who that is?" Lynwood asks, almost casually, but the utter surprise and traces of worry betray his nonchalant demeanor.

"He looks familiar, but I dunno," you admit, and see if Matt has an idea. He doesn't.

"Jean-Baptiste Favreau," Lynwood says, darkly. "Guess that's the ominous 'Mr. Favor'. If you ever researched the finances of anyone rich in this nation, you very likely stumbled upon the name." He pauses, waiting if anyone else knows the guy, but continues as that isn't the case. "I'll tell you the details once $Name is safe and sound," you say, "But for now… He's quite bad news. The kind of man you don't want to cross, disappoint or insult. By having his family face consequence for, let's say, an attempted kidnapping. For example."

That's not good. Though you are almost inclined to appreciate Lynwood's dry humor.

"He's also leavin'," Burke interrupts in a stage whisper, drawing everyone's attention back to the farm.

Favreau is indeed climbing into a waiting coach, while a total of four men mount up, two of them on the coach, two on horses, all heavily armed. Favreau barks some orders you can't really make out, but there's a weight lifting off your heart as the group rides off into the opposite direction of where you are, leaving you with a slightly more reasonable number of opponents to handle.

"In the hope I won't jinx it, but damn, that's lucky for us," O'Brian mutters.

"Still got more than enough on our hands," you say, making a curt nod at Matt. "Give Matt a moment to check what we're up against now." So You Wait. //"Six in the barn, three in the house,"// he informs you, and you forward the information. //"Not countin' Earl's brother."//

//"Pardon?"// you wonder.

//"They put him through the wringer, too. Got a nasty wound on his head and back. He's looking worse than $Name."//

//"That's no good… Will he be okay?"// It's hard to tell why you are worried for someone you've never met but who you, by all means, shouldn't feel sorry for. Maybe it's because of the impression you got from Earl.

//"If he gets medical help sooner than later, likely."//

//"And the farmers?"//

//"Awake, so far uninjured, and probably up to do something stupid."//

//"So we gotta hurry even more…"// you frown, and turn to the others giving them the new information.

"Bugger," Burke mutters. "So, what now?"

"We have to split up," Lynwood suggests. "Even with the numbers more even, it won't do if we clear one side of the farm, only to have the buggers on the other catch on. Especially if the farmers are about to try something."

Burke nods, but then furrows his brows.

"How long ya think we got?" he asks, looking at Lynwood, who blinks surprised.

"You mean until the farmers do some-…" His face darkens. "You mean until Favreau will return, right?"

Burke nods again.

"There's no way in Hell that guy ain't headin' to town to force Mulligan here to free his sister. An' when he finds Mulligan gone…"

"He'll come back here an' all Hell will break loose," you finish the thought, shuddering. //"Matt?"//

//"Far ahead o' ya, Charles,"// Matt informs you, with a grim playfulness. //"Our new friends gonna keep an eye on him. Make sure he won't come back here any time soon."//

With a soft, relieved sigh you tell the others what's going on. That's at least something.

"Hey!" O'Brian suddenly calls out, nodding towards the farmhouse. One of the grizzlies is making his way over to the barn, looking indisputable upset.

"Seven in the barn then, two in the house," you mutter, sourly. "Is that better or worse?"

"It doesn't make much of a difference," Mrs. Meadows answers, casually checking her rifle. "I suggest two of us head to the house and take out the two men there. The others get into position in the barn and await the others attacking from the other side."

"Best choice we have," Lynwood agrees.

"Only choice we got, innit?" Burke grunts, checking his weapons as well. "So, how we gonna do that?"

"Giles is an excellent sharpshooter," Mrs. Meadows declares in a tone so matter-of-fact that it's almost comical, while Lynwood looks as if he doesn't know what to make of that compliment. "One of us has to head to the farmhouse, the other heads to the barn."

"Tommy should take the barn," O'Brian speaks up. "He's the better shot an' fighter outta the two o' us, makes more sense to have him where more people are."

Burke nods curtly.

And then all of you look at Mrs. Meadows expectantly. Were the situation not so dire it'd be almost comical how each of you decided that she'd be the best choice to take the lead. "I shall head to the farmhouse with Mulligan," Mrs. Meadows announces after almost no hesitation, and you tense your muscles. Not because it'd be a bad idea, but the way she's carrying herself when she says it, the way she's first stoically avoiding to look at you, but then sharply snaps her head around…

She's up to something. You figure she's very likely to still think that this is a trap, and that you're in cahoots with the kidnappers.

There's a sense of disappointment flitting across your chest, but you do your best to not let it show.

You nod in agreement.

"Hold up!" O'Brian suddenly yowls in discontent.

"That's leavin' Tommy and me with the Pinkerton." he complains.

"I assure you, O'Brian, the feeling is mutual," Lynwood retorts, rolling his eyes for the briefest of moments.

"O'Brian," you call out, pinching the bridge of your nose, "it's not as if Lynwood's gonna drag ya off to Redhurst while we're dealin' with the guys in the house."

"You don't know that!" Burke protests, sounding scandalized.

"I do believe he knows that fairly well. I'm not an idiot." Lynwood frowns, checking his weapon. "$Name is the priority now, and we have already wasted enough time."

"We still ought to proceed with care," Mrs. Meadows speaks up, checking her own weapons. "Don't be rash, unless you have no other choice."

The others nod, and Mrs. Meadows motions you to follow her to the house.

#the ballad of devil's creek #baodc development #baodc spoilers #interactive fiction #baodc

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