#I want to punch the screen but the laptop is new

[cynical-kitten]

Now that I’ve finished a major plot point, I don’t know what to do to get to the next. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

being a writer is wild

like there are some days where all the words click into place and the sentences flow like silk and then there are other days where your plot is undergoing radioactive decay and you're about to punch through your laptop screen in frustration

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day ten.

Jealous Lando (2.2k words)

summary: Something unleashes inside Lando when you run into one of your coworkers, his shameless invitation making him want to remind you who you belong to.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, blow job, fingering, jealous!lando, possessive!lando.

You found yourselves sitting in a somewhat fancy café in Austin, enjoying the warm weather as he told you about his day.

Lando had been a little bit busy with the duties that carried being a Formula One driver, so any little time you could spend with each other was well appreciated, so sitting really close to him in one of the couches as you sipped your coffee was nice.

However, you took a few days of vacations to go with him to the American races, but that didn’t mean you were completely off the hook since you carried your laptop everywhere in case you needed to get something done, which is what happened right now.

You got a notification on your phone from what seemed like an important email, so you pulled your laptop out to take a look at the file your boss had shared with you, promising Lando it wouldn’t take more than five minutes.

It had been like fifteen minutes and you were still reviewing it, now with your phone on your ear while you talked with someone about this new project you were supposed to take over once you got back as Lando had your computer on his lap.

He didn’t really mind, or at least that was what he always told you. Here is the thing: he understood that your job was important for you, and he appreciated the fact that you took a few days just so you could be with him, but sometimes he just wished you could quit so he could take you everywhere with him without having to worry about you focusing on a screen instead of him.

Was that selfish? Maybe, but who could blame him for wanting his girlfriend to be all his? 

You would never describe Lando as the possessive type, and maybe it was because he never voiced his concerns out loud. He was jealous sometimes, that’s for sure, but possessive? Not really.

“Sorry, baby. I really had to take this,” you said as you hung up the phone.

“It’s okay, but I don’t understand why you still have to do all of this if you are supposed to be on vacation.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I thought I would be able to go the full month without having to do any of this,” you sighed as you took one last look at the email. “I will try to stay off work for the rest of the time we are together, I promise.”

That really pissed him off. If you were on vacation, shouldn’t you be able to enjoy it? Lando was building up the courage to tell you what he had been thinking pretty much your entire relationship, carefully thinking about his words. “Maybe you should quit-”

“Oh, hi Y/N,” a random voice interrupted him, making both of you look up. You both saw one of your coworkers standing there, entirely ruining Lando’s plan to covince you to leave your job and become a full-time wag. He could already feel his blood boiling.

“Oh- hi,” you replied, trying to remember the guy’s name. 

“I didn’t know you were here. I mean, I knew you were off, but I assumed you were just staying home. Nice to see you are enjoying your free time travelling.” He was completely ignoring Lando, not directing a single word to him, not even a quick glare, and Lando didn’t like that. Not one bit. 

“Yeah, I took time off to go to a few races,” you said, motioning your head towards your now upset boyfriend. “What about you?”

“I’m here to attend my brother’s wedding,” he said with a small laugh. “But I didn’t bring anyone with me, so it will be a bit awkward to be the best man without a date.”

Lando already knew where this was going, and he was using all his self-control not to punch the guy in the face and tell him to fuck off. They were in a public place anyway, and he knew his team would not like to see something like this hit the news, but man, the guy really deserved it.

“Hey, unless you are free tomorrow. Would you be interested in coming with me? You know, free food and free buzz. Big party.” At that moment, Lando felt his coherent thoughts leave his mind, his hand finding a place on your thigh and squeezing it softly as he killed him with a glare.

“We’re busy, actually, can’t you see?” Lando finally spoke, in a tone you had never heard before, as he pointed to the open laptop that still rested on his lap.

“Oh, I didn’t mean right now," the guy replied, finally acknowledging Lando’s presence, but he turned to face you again. “There is a rehearsal tonight, but tomorrow-”

“We have plans for tomorrow." Lando interrupted, bringing you closer to him with his hand still gripping your thigh. “Don’t we?” He said, looking at you.

You looked back at him, slightly blushing at your boyfriend’s actions. “Yeah, sorry… uh”

“Joe”

“Right, Joe,” you repeated, giving him a friendly smile “Sorry, Joe.”

“Good luck being alone at the wedding though." Lando wasn’t trying to be friendly at all; if anything, he just wanted him to stop hitting on you and leave immediately. “See you around, mate.”

Joe looked at you, as if he were asking you for confirmation to leave. “I’ll see you back at the office,” you said, waving him goodbye.

Joe sighed loudly as he started to walk away, and Lando smiled proudly and kissed your temple.

“Wow, I knew you were jealous, but I didn’t think you were that jealous," you whispered, placing your hand on top of his.

“I’m not,” he frowned his eyebrows as if he was being falsely accused. “We’re just really busy.”

He stared at you with eyes full of... anger? You weren’t sure, but you knew for a fact that he’d be leaving marks on your thigh if he kept gripping you like that.

“You know I would’ve said no, right? You didn’t have to scare him off like that.”

“We’re leaving.” Was all he replied, taking his hand away as he closed your laptop, standing up and walking away from where you were sitting.

You tried to follow him, but he was walking so quick he was already waiting in the car when you got there. You let out a sigh as you opened the door, sitting beside him as you tried to think of something you could say to get his mind off what just happened.

“So, it’s a sprint weekend. You haven’t done one of those in a while.”

But he barely let out a sound at your words, at least acknowledging that you were talking to him but not caring enough to say something back. That’s how it was for the rest of the ride back to the hotel, you trying to talk about anything and him just grunting, and by the way he was gripping the stearing wheel, you knew he wouldn’t let this go any time soon.

Once he parked the car, he got out and waited for you a few seconds to collect your things and be next to him, grabbing your hand tightly as he guided you to the elevator and back to your room, and as soon as you were inside, he dropped your hand and found a seat on the small couch that was placed next to the hotel bed, staring at you as if he was waiting for you to apologise for something that wasn’t even your fault.

“Lando, let’s not do this, please. I would have never in a million years accepted to go with him, even if you weren’t there-”

“On your knees.”

“What?” You asked in disbelief after a few seconds of silence as he unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down until they were pooling on his ankles.

“You heard me, go on.” 

You slowly made your way there, watching him as he slowly pumped his length. At this point, you weren’t even thinking clearly anymore, and doing as he said just came naturally to you, so you dropped to your knees once you were in front of him, swallowing harshly when he motioned his head towards his angry cock.

Not thinking twice, you took him in your mouth and started working on it, knowing teasing him right now was far from a good idea. 

“Why don’t you take some more, love?” He said as he quickly took a hold of your hair, pushing your head down his shaft.

You could really feel his size because of the stretch your mouth feels, which you always did, but given the situation, it somehow felt more prominent. Your cheeks were hollowing around him, and one of your hands was wrapped around his base as your other one gripped his thigh, nails digging into his tanned skin.

“You know you are mine, right?” He asked you in a shaky tone. “No other guys but me should be thinking about talking to you, asking you to be their date- ah- only I get to have you like this, so pretty with your mouth around my cock.”

You let out a moan at his words, secretly loving this side of your boyfriend, and the vibrations made him let out another moan as he used his grip on your hair to guide your movements.

“No one else will ever see you like this, right, baby?” You tried and failed to nod your head; you didn’t even have control anymore, you were just trying to follow what Lando was silently instructing you to do.

His hold was getting tighter as you sucked his crown, which made him let out the deepest moan you have ever heard from him as his fingers tightened even more, unintentionally bucking his hips up once. You gagged around his cock, taking it gracefully as mascara tears rolled down your face.

“Shit, I could have you like this at all times. You are doing so good, angel.” His words were breathy and full of bliss as he got closer and closer to his release.

The way his cock twitched inside you and his thighs tensed under your hand made you know he was seconds away, the echoes of his moans bouncing off the walls as he started thrusting his hips up, his cock hitting deep inside your throat. With one last hit, you felt his hot cum filling your mouth, some of it smearing on the sides as you happily swallowed all of it, making you slow your movements down with his hand.

When he started to catch his breath, he pulled your head off his cock, dropping your hair and patting his lap so you would sit there, which you immediately obeyed.

“Why don’t you quit that stupid job so I don’t have to worry about assholes like him hitting on you?” Lando’s hands were roaming your thighs, slightly parting them as his hand sneaked into your underwear. 

Your breath hitched when his fingers explored your folds, finally landing on your clit with an insane pressure. He started rubbing hard circles, his mouth so close to your neck you could feel his hot breath.

“You are mine.” A moan scaped your lips at this. “Say it.”

“I’m yours, all yours.” 

As soon as you said this, one of his fingers entered your desperate hole, quickly finding a pace for you. He was desperate to make you come, and you knew he would get it within minutes if he kept playing with you like this.

Lando found a place on your neck, kissing and sucking your sensitive skin as he dipped a second finger inside you. “You think anyone else could make you feel this good? Mhm?”

“No,” you breathed out, fingers gripping his thighs.

“Good.”

You weren’t sure if it was his fingers or his words, but your stomach was quickly building up that familiar feeling as your hips started moving against his hand, making him use one more finger as you completely lost yourself in pleasure.

“Lando- fuck.”

“That’s it. Cum for me, love.”

His teeth were niping the skin on your shoulder, and only seconds before your orgasm hit you, you let out a loud moan, making him smile as he somehow fastened his pace.

With a few more pumps, a wave of bliss travelled through your body, your head falling back and into his shoulder as he helped you through your orgasm. At this point, your body had stopped moving, and all you could do was moan and squirm under his touch.

“‘s too much,” you managed to say.

“Say it again.”

“Say what again?” 

“Say you are mine.”

“I’m- ah- I’m yours, Lando, only yours. Shit” You complied as a string of moans scaped your parted lips.

“Good girl,” he said, finally taking his hand away from your sensitive pussy and kissing you, slow and possessive as one of his fingers cleaned the cum that was still on the side of your mouth. “Now, let’s get you changed. We’re going to dinner.” Lando softly pushed you off his lap, standing up as he pulled his trousers back up. “Oh, and make sure to wear that black dress I love so much.”

↺ back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist

[perlelune]

Creep | Oliver Quick

Though you can’t grasp exactly what, you know something is very off with your boyfriend’s peculiar new friend.

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, Stalking, Voyeurism, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Drinking, Smoking, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamic

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Felix’s long digits drum over your back as he pouts, “You really brought me here just to study, babe?” His raspy, flirtatious tone tugs your lips skyward. Still, your attention doesn’t stray from your laptop screen. Sentences bleed from your fingertips at a quick-fire pace. A little under three thousand words on Bentham’s theory of utilitarianism, due by Monday. The topic isn’t exactly thrilling but you have to hand it over in time.

“If I don’t ace this essay, I’m going to fail this class,” you absently reply. Failure. The one thing you literally can’t afford right now, though you forbear sharing that particular bit with Felix. Best he perceives your single-minded determination as a core stare of your character rather than what it actually is…a necessity, one born of dire circumstances.

He takes a long drag off his cigarette. Grey smoke floats around you, smudging the words on your screen. You repress tears as your eyes burn. You wished he’d curb the nasty habit. You’ve dropped hints before.

But no one tells Felix Catton what to do. Many would kill to even breathe the same nicotin-infused air as him. Felix is the sun and everyone on campus craves to be in his orbit, eager for the slightest chance to bask in his warmth, shower in his light.

You’re no different. The day he asked you out, a little over a year ago, you pinched yourself twice to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Felix Catton wanted…you? It couldn’t be real. 

This was the boy you held in your heart for a decade, the only one you ever had eyes for.

And while your relationship suffered its share of hardships, namely Felix’s wandering eyes, you couldn’t picture life without him at your side.

He’s your everything.

He could hurt you a thousand times and you’d forgive him each of those times.

Felix’s bare shoulder grazes yours as he states, “They won’t fail you, not with who your dad is.”

Your stomach knots with his comment. Still, you shrug, pretending away the guilt steadily gnawing your insides.

“I don’t want to get special treatment just because of my family name, Felix,” you say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

Though his smile never falters, his jaw ticks. “And I do?”

The ice in his tone scatters in your veins. Immediately, you discard your homework, concerned gaze finding his.

“I’m not saying that.” When Felix doesn’t respond, panic roars inside you. You touch his exposed chest to bring his attention to you. He doesn’t move. “I didn’t say that.”

A thick blanket of silence engulfs the room and your airways constrict. It feels as if your heart is on the verge of collapse as you wait for a reaction from your boyfriend, his chestnut gaze glued to the ceiling.

His head turns to you slowly. He releases a large puff of smoke in your face. Tears rush to your eyes, filling them to the brim.

Felix shrugs.

“It sounded like you did. A little. But that’s okay.” His tone is mellow in that way that oozes displeasure. “I’m just a legacy kid getting by on his trust fund and good looks, right?”

Your mouth quakes and he bursts out a chuckle. He cups your cheek, a wide grin breaking onto his face. “I’m just fucking with you, babe.”

You swallow your budding tears, wiping your eyes swiftly as Felix reaches around you to put out his cig in the ashtray.

You punch him in the chest, your own laughter bubbling out.

“You’re an arsehole.”

His grin expands. Twining your fingers with his, Felix’s tone gets softer.

“I wanted to ask…” He trails off, brown gaze clinging to yours. “Can Ollie come to the party you and Anabel are throwing tonight?”

You tilt your head in befuddlement. “Ollie?”

He traces the lines in your palm, adding absently, “Yeah, Oliver. I told you about him. Saved my arse when my bike broke.”

“Right, bike guy,” you say, remembrance hitting you. You tilt your head. “What’s he like?”

Felix sighs.

“He doesn't have too many friends.  He's also had a rough upbringing. So I thought we could help him a little, you know?” You study him. However casual your boyfriend attempts to sound, you instantly recognize what this is. Yet another try at playing knight in shining armor. Whoever this Oliver guy is, he’s now become your boyfriend’s side project. His charity case possibly.

“He’s not like us so we could try to be nice.”

Not like us. You mask your discomfort with a bright smile. 

About a year ago, your dad’s company filed for bankruptcy. Thankfully your scholarship still allows you to attend Oxford, but your lifestyle has drastically changed. No more shopping sprees. No more casual leisure trips to Europe. No more frivolous spendings with daddy’s black card.

The last straw was when your father emptied every account, including your trust, and left the country without as much as a goodbye text. Since those events, your mother has taken refuge at the bottom of a whisky bottle. You can barely get a hold of her these days.

So not only are you penniless, you might as well be an orphan. 

Felix is all you have left. You can’t risk him finding out the truth. He can never know about the part time jobs you’ve had to take to cover tuition costs or the small flat your mum had to move into after your father had to sell the family manor. He might think you’re beneath him now, working class, destitute. Or worse, he might pity you, treat you like a charity case too. 

You follow the curve of his dark brow with your thumb, sweeping over his silver stud.

“Hm, sure. I can be nice,” you promise.

“I know you can,” he teases, large hands pulling on your thighs to spread you across his lap.

You squeal before scolding him, “Felix…I really really need to finish this essay.”

His eyes darken with lust as he licks his lips. He wiggles his hips, causing the bulge in his jeans to rub against your clothed center. Your breath hitches. “And I really really need you to take care of this for me.” His hoarse, desperate inflection makes your core clench. His palms run over your thighs beneath your short dress. “Just five minutes? Come on, I’ve been hard for like an hour, babe.”

He hums, already playfully fiddling with the edge of your lace panties.

“It’s your fault for wearing this fucking pink dress. You know the way your ass looks in it drives me crazy.”

You resolve crumbles beneath Felix’s heated stare. You can never tell him no. And he knows that. Releasing a deep sigh, you relent.

“Five minutes,” you offer.

He slides one finger inside your weeping core. As you draw a sharp breath, Felix beams.

“It’s all I need,” he coos.

The party’s at his height, loud music blasting from the gigantic speakers and glow sticks waving in the pitch blackness of the underground cellar. You thread your way between tipsy students, carrying two cups of beer in your hands. 

As you reach the VIP corner, you hand Annabel her drink. The redhead mumbles her thanks as she bobs her head to the music. You peer at your surroundings, glad to see everyone having fun. 

It’s a frank success. Pride trickles inside you at that. It’s been hard collecting pockets of free time to put it together between classes and assignments. But you did it. 

Truthfully, you’re also craving some fun tonight. All you’ve done lately is studying. You miss the days when you were more carefree, unconcerned about your grades deciding the course of your future.

You glance down at your watch, scowling as you notice the time. He was supposed to be here three hours ago.

“Where’s Felix?” you ask Venetia. Your boyfriend’s sister  lazily opens her eyes, a drunken smile spreading onto her lips. She shrugs. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen him around.” 

You pivot to the rest of the group. 

“Have you guys seen him tonight?”

Annabel shakes her head apologetically while Farleigh brings his blunt to his mouth with a taunting smile.

“Desperate much?” he teases.

“Farleigh, come on,” Anabel chastises. She bumps her shoulder into yours, her expression sympathetic. “Don’t mind him, you know he’s always a jerk after a few drinks.”

Farleigh sighs. “Darling, you know I love you. It was just a joke.”

“A joke, right…” you mumble. Your cheeks heat though you try not to let your feelings show. Still, Farleigh’s words linger in your head. Maybe you’re being too clingy. It’s something you should mind.  What if you became too needy and Felix grew bored of you? It’s not like he wouldn’t find a replacement for you in a heartbeat.

You lie back on the plush couch, sipping from your beer cup as your friends continue their chat. The conversation has long since stopped making sense, fueled by drug-inspired ramblings. Your attention is halved by your straying train of thoughts, the current whereabouts of your boyfriend still at the forefront of your brain.

Another hour flies by before Felix’s towering frame finally pierces through the crowd. A smaller boy trails behind him, his expression mirroring that of a lost puppy. He adjusts his glasses, awkwardly avoiding the drunken bodies around him. The word “Sorry” doesn’t stop pouring from his mouth. 

You realize this must be Oliver. Astonishment flows through you. This isn’t the kind of company Felix traditionally keeps. But you elect to try your best to be nice and welcoming.

It’s what Felix asked of you after all. Besides, entering a new group of people cannot be easy, your tight-knit circle having known each other since kindergarten for some.

You don’t miss Anabel’s fleeting,  condescending glance as she takes in Oliver though. Getting her assent to let him come had been a hassle, as she regards him as some weird, scholarship kid who’d just bring the mood down. But you insisted and she finally caved.

You trade a meaningful look with her, silently nudging her to be nice. The redhead practically rolls her eyes but squeezes her lips shut. Annabel may be one of your best friends but even you’re aware that she can be quite snobbish at times. 

A sullen expression decorates your face as Felix enters the private booth. 

“You’re late,” you blurt out. Farleigh snickers behind you and your cheeks flare. But everything around you fades as Felix grabs your face and presses feverish lips over yours. Your irritation melts in the heat of the passionate kiss. 

When he frees your mouth, his thumb runs over your swollen bottom lip as he explains casually, “Yeah we were just hanging out and we lost track of time.”

He then introduces the shy boy.

“That’s Ollie.”

“Nice to meet you,” he stutters.

“Likewise,’ you reply smiling.

You gauge him. Beneath the large glasses, you note the slanted blue eyes and soft, round boyish features. Felix’s friend is cute. If only he weren’t so painfully awkward. 

“You should sit with us. There’s plenty of space,” you say. 

Felix draws you onto his lap as he sits. Oliver takes a nervous seat next to the two of you. His eyes keep rising to Felix, as if seeking perpetual approval from your boyfriend. You’re a little perplexed. Farleigh hands Felix a spliff and he lets his hand rest on your thigh while taking a long drag from it.

“So, where are you from exactly?” you ask Oliver.

His gaze on you and Felix is sharp, somehow constantly darting to where your boyfriend’s holding you.

“Prescott,” he answers.

You mull over his response. It’s a few hours away from Oxford. You don’t know much about it. Though, based on what Felix implied about the way he grew up, you expected him to originate from a rougher area. Prescott doesn’t seem too awful.

“Prescott? They must be proud of you back home, especially your parents.”

“Probably not, actually.”

Your curiosity is piqued. “Why are you saying that?”

Oliver shrugs. His eyes find the floor before meeting yours again.

“Just don’t talk to them much,” he mutters. “They got problems and stuff…”

You slant your head. “Problems?”

Felix’s hand tightens atop your thigh. “Babe, that’s enough prying, don’t you think?”

“I’m just making conversation, trying to get to know him.”

“You’re embarrassing him, babe.”

Oliver’s blue gaze lifts to yours, his face unreadable.

“No, it’s fine,” he says, though you detect a slight edge to his timbre that wasn’t there before. A small smile tugs his lips. “I don’t mind questions. Got nothing to hide.”

You nod. An icy tickle blooms at the base of your spine, scattering outward as Oliver’s intense focus doesn’t leave you. You turn away, shifting your attention to your boyfriend. Throughout the entire night, a strange sensation thunders through you, like the lightning before the storm. You can’t explain it. It’s like the world shifted off its axis, though you can’t pinpoint the reason.

Thankfully the strangeness is cast aside by Felix’s soft lips and heady, masculine scent. As the party goes on in the background, the two of you sneak away. You end up making out in a dark corner, Felix’s greedy hands slipping beneath your short skirt to grab a fistful of your ass. He pinches your flesh and you squeal.

A warm chuckle spills from his lips as he peppers tender kisses alongside your neck.

“Let’s go back to my dorm,” he whispers.

You readily agree. He takes your hand and the two of you hitch a ride back to campus. The two of you giggle in the backseat of the car every time the driver berates you for getting too handsy with each other. You laugh it off all the way back to his room, lips locking as you cross the threshold. You jump to wrap your legs around Felix’s tapered waist. He purrs, his hands latching around your hips, pulling you closer. He pushes you against a wall, tracing a scorching path in the valley between your breasts. Moaning, you toss your head back. 

As your eyes flutter however, you catch sight of a silhouette standing outside Felix’s window. Your heart bounces, your eyes growing saucer-wide. You gasp and leap away from Felix. 

“What the fuck?” he curses as you race to the window. Chest pulsing with your quick heartbeats, you peel the window open to peek outside. The cold night air whisks inside the room. Goosebumps break out on your skin.

Your gaze wanders, searching the darkness. Confusion swells within you as you find nothing. Nothing but greenery, the same trees and grass flanking your path whenever you stroll through campus. 

“There was someone outside, w-watching us,” you stammer.

Felix’s frustrated breath grazes the back of your neck. “Babe, there’s no one out there.”

You squint, dumbfounded when nothing but pitch blackness stares back at you. For a minute, you really believed someone stood there. In fact, whoever they were bore a peculiar resemblance to…

You catch yourself before finishing the thought.

Now that’s just crazy.

“But I saw…”

Felix shifts your body towards him. He cups your cheeks and rasps, “Hey. Hey, look at me. There’s no one but us here.” His lips collide with yours. He starts groping you again and you push him off  you, stunned that he wants to have sex at a time like this.

“No, Felix, I-I can’t.”

He stumbles back and scoffs, “Oh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you inquire, glowering at him.

His gaze flicks over you, his expression cold. “All that teasing just to leave me high and dry?”

“Felix, wait…”

He avoids your touch, collecting his jacket from the bed when your fingers stretch towards him.

“It’s fine. I’m just gonna have a smoke. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Your stomach sinks.

“O-Okay,” you say as your hand retreats to your side.

The door slams shut and you collapse on Felix’s bed. Your eyes veer to the window once more. You could have sworn you caught a glimpse of someone. Maybe all those late nights writing essays and revising for the upcoming exams are slowly catching up to you, dragging you to the brink of madness.

Felix doesn’t call you the following day. Of course he doesn’t. You broke the mood. You acted weird. What reason does he have to want to be around you again? It’s bad enough you neglected him in favor of your assignments and club activities for the last few weeks. Now you can’t even enjoy the sparse time you have together.

Still, you flip your phone open all day long, longing for a word from him, any trivial, insignificant word.

You get nothing. 

You gloomily drag your feet around campus and somehow find your way in one of the empty student lounges, save Farleigh and Venetia. Lying flat on the carpeted floor, eyes glued to the ceiling, the two of them are sharing a spliff. You wedge yourself between them, lying on your back also. You steal the roll from Venetia’s fingers and bring it to your lips. Your throat burns and you cough as you inhale a puff. Venetia’s lips curve upward as your eyes water.

“You gotta take it easy the first time,” she says, amusement lighting her olive orbs. “Tiny inhales.” She shows you how and you mimic her gestures. You go slower the second time and a pleasant numbness sets into your limbs. Your eyes shut. You kind of get it now. For the first time in several weeks, your mind’s almost at rest, your stormy thoughts quieted. 

“You don’t smoke,” Farleigh notes near you.

“I am today.”

“You guys will be fine,” Venetia assures. “You’re always fine.”

Your eyes open, settling on the pristine white ceiling. 

“I fucking hate him sometimes.” You pause, sucking a deep breath. “But I love him more.”

“Yep, that’s Felix,” they utter in unison.

You heave out a weary sigh. They grew up with him. They know better than anyone, how sweet and wonderful he can be, but also cruel and careless sometimes.

Just like the sun, Felix’s light can also burn whoever gets too close. 

For a while, the three of you hang out in silence, the spliff switching hands every once in a while. Eventually, each of them rises, leaving you to your mopey thoughts. 

Before taking his leave however, Farleigh whispers in your ear,

“Oh and darling, next time you wear a rental…make sure the price tag isn’t sticking out. It gives you away.”

You sit up immediately. A smile dances on the boy’s lips as he disappears. You grab the back of your neck, face warming as you feel the tag poking through the collar of your shirt.

You nearly forgot you’re due to return the designer piece in two days’ time. You can’t believe someone noticed. Though you suppose if anybody would, it’d be Farleigh. Nothing gets past his keen eye. You surmise it was a necessity with the way he grew up. Learning to read people, knowing what makes them tick, being able to spot a pretender from a mile away…which you are now.

Maybe it’s ludicrous, acting like you can still afford to live like this, like your life wasn’t turned upside down.

Still, you can’t fathom the alternative. The judgement, the pity, from your friends…from Felix. The thought alone makes you sick. The echo of Anabel’s voice as she disparaged Oliver’s background a few days ago never left you. 

Dunno what Felix even sees in him. He’s some weird scholarship kid who buys his clothes at Oxfam.

That was harsh…and made you wonder what your best friend would have to say about your current situation. 

So you’d rather lie, even if you sometimes look like a fool doing so.

You swallow a wide lungful, willing yourself to be calm. You repeat the mantra, again and again. You’re okay. You’re okay. You just need to keep your grades up and get through the semester.

The rest of the week is hell. Felix all but ignores you, not even sparing you a glance when he brushes past you in the university corridors. The itch to talk to him sears inside you. Unfortunately, he’s always surrounded by a swarm of people, the center of attention as usual, making approaching him near impossible. You can’t picture bringing up your relationship problems in front of so many eyes.

Besides, you don’t want to project desperation, Farleigh’s pointed gibe still resonating in your mind. You need to play it cool, wrap yourself in a disguise of indifference…despite the way you wither away every second he’s not texting you back. 

The agonizing wait is made worse by him. He’s everywhere now. Wherever Felix goes, he goes too. Oliver Quick has essentially become your boyfriend’s shadow. Whether in class, at pub meetups, at parties, the quiet, nervous boy  never abandons Felix’s side, always peering up at him with those round baby blues of his, a strange mix of admiration, devotion and…something else you can’t pinpoint etched on his face.

It’s sort of creepy in your opinion. 

Though you’d never say it aloud. For some reason, Oliver’s his new toy. And you’re acutely aware of how Felix is with his toys. He plays with them for a while then moves on to the next fancy, shiny new one. He did it to Eddie before. Now Oliver. 

And maybe it’ll be your turn one day…if you don’t do something. 

It’s how you end up in front of his dorm one night, already tipsy from half a bottle of vodka. Liquid courage to get you to knock on his door. It’s pathetic. Of course it is, but you just can’t wait anymore. 

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and shaking off your nerves. Your knuckles are less than an inch from the door when a broken whimper reaches you from the other side of Felix’s door. 

Brows furrowing, you place your ear against the wood. You hear a moan this time. Deep, distinctive, masculine…familiar. Your heart stops. 

You plummet to your knees, peering through the keyhole. You feel wrong for doing so, for invading Felix’s privacy like this. But guilt crumbles beneath the weight of heartbreak at what you witness. 

You almost find yourself wishing you hadn’t looked. Almost.

Rivulets of anguish flow down your face as you watch your best friend and boyfriend lip-locked, practically swallowing each other’s faces. Their clothes aren’t off but the urgent way they’re grinding against each other is a dead giveaway as to what’s to come.

Legs trembling, you stumble back from the door. You shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake. You’re a fool.

You drunkenly stagger through the corridors, clinging to the walls each time you almost trip over your own feet.

You wind up slumped on some stairs, too inebriated to carry yourself much further. Your lids sag as you exhale. More hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest aches, a knife piercing through your heart as the memory of Annabel and Felix lost in the throes of passion fleets across your brain. Why are you even shocked? It’s not like you never caught Anabel leering at him while she thought you weren’t looking. And it’s not like Felix is some kind of saint. Still, you can’t help but feel massively betrayed. You thought you meant more to him. You thought they wouldn’t…not with each other.

When your eyes flutter open, you find a pair of intense cobalt orbs studying you.

“Oliver…” you mumble. In your drunken stupor, you don’t bother wondering how he got here, seemingly materializing from thin hair.

He hunkers in front of you. His scent tickles your nose and it twitches. The smell of his cologne is so strikingly reminiscent of the one Felix wears. A wave of emotion engulfs you. Sobs shake your frame as you shrink against the wall.

Oliver’s gaze rises to your weeping face as he questions, “Are you okay?”

“M’fine…” you slur, wiping your snotty nose. You must look a fright, a pathetic heap of tears aimlessly wandering the university corridors.

He tilts his head. “You don’t look fine.”

You consider Oliver. He is cute, which you noticed before. And in the dimly lit stairway, his blue eyes burn even brighter. You loathe that Felix is allowed to hurt you the way he did and can just…keep on. If your friends aren’t off-limits, why would his be?

You bat your lashes at Oliver.

“You got any alcohol?”

His lips curve upward as he rasps, “Would you like me to have alcohol?”

How did you end up there? The question keeps swirling in your head as Oliver’s mouth hungrily devours yours, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. He trails fevered kisses down your neck and you squirm. As his teeth sink into the flesh at the crook of your neck, you let out a sharp cry. You tug on his dark locks and Oliver growls against your skin. The pain mixes with pleasure in your haze. His tongue then circles where he punctured your flesh, dragging slowly as an elated purr rises from his chest. His hard-on presses into your thigh. Alarm bells ring inside your mind.

It’s all a little too real, you realize. You got carried away. You draw back, pushing against his chest. “Oliver, wait…”

You might as well have said nothing, your words falling to unlistening ears as Oliver grabs your wrists and nudges you on the bed on your back. You peer up at him. Lust darkens his blue gaze, making him appear almost inhuman in the darkness.

Your mouth wobbles.

Pinning your wrists at your sides, Oliver kisses you senseless. Soon his lips are tracing a scorching path down your body, his hands moving to peel off your short skirt and panties.

His attentive gaze doesn’t leave yours as he sluggishly drags the tiny layer of lace down your legs.

His throat bobs when your bare cunt is exposed to him.

Biting his bottom lip, Oliver crawls his way to your core. Your legs quake. There is a strange glow in his eyes that sends chills down your back. 

“Oli-” you start, but the protest dwindles in a helpless whimper when Oiver buries his head between your thighs and flicks his tongue against your bundle of nerves. Oliver’s firm hands clasp around your thighs, keeping you in place when you attempt to close your legs. He greedily eats you out, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He suckles your tender button in his mouth and your eyes roll back. Your fingers get lost in his dark mane as your back arches against the sheets. Oliver’s feverish tongue sweeps around your folds and you grow weaker, slumping against the pillow. 

Quickly, stars dangle in your vision. Your fists tighten around the sheets while your legs turn to jelly. A long breath flows from your lips. 

You don’t remember ever coming that hard before, not even with Felix.

Tingles are still dancing over your legs as a sliver of clarity returns to you.

Oliver’s tongue slowly moves, collecting the remnants of your essence off his lips as a look of sheer bliss decorates his face. You shiver.

You try to move off the bed. “I think that’s enough,” you say, folding your knees.

Oliver’s mouth quirks lopsidedly. “Oh, we’re nowhere near done, luv.”

Much quicker than you, Oliver slithers his way up your body and cages you beneath his frame. He steals your lips in a hungry kiss, trapping your wrists above your head. His fingers are tight enough that you just know it’ll bruise. You taste your own bittersweet flavor on his tongue. His hand creeps under your shirt, groping your tits. He plants urgent pecks on your face, dragging his teeth along your jaw.

“Oliver, please…”  you beseech, shock making your voice shake.

He sinks a finger between your slick walls. Your stomach tightens.

Oliver releases your swollen lips and twists his finger inside your core. Your breath hitches.

He smiles down at you.

“But you’re gushing down there, luv. This is what you want.”

Your face warms. You hate that he’s right, that your body clings to him, making space you wish it didn’t…almost inviting his actions.

But Oliver’s mouth and hands are far too good at knowing which buttons to press to turn you into a whimpering mess. Shame pools in your gut as sharp keens leave your lips.

He pumps inside you at a steady pace, his thumb teasing your heap of sensitive nerves every once in a while, pressing until you cry out. He adds another finger and the air in your lungs falters. His hands feel everywhere at once, his teeth and mouth scattering marks all over your body.

He doesn’t stop until you clench around him, soaking his hand with your juices when you shatter with a high-pitched wail.

You crash over the pillows. Your body is still coming off the high. Half-lidded eyes blindly rise to the ceiling. Oliver yanking off his shirt and discarding his pants doesn’t register, not fully, the entire bottle of vodka you emptied before making your mind slow.

He’s suddenly inside you, his thick length splitting you apart as he places his forearms besides your head.

Your lips part in a quiet shout. It feels like if you might break, your walls aching as they stretch around him.

He begins to rail into you, each of his thrusts blunt and animalistic. As if he were possessed by some beast. You know it’s ludicrous. But as the lewd clapping of your damp skin against his rises each time he buries himself balls-deep inside you…it’s how you feel. Like a wild animal somehow broke free and started rutting into you.

Your head lolls against the pillows, your thoughts going blank every time he grazes your sweet spots. Your fingernails rake down his back. 

“Does Felix fuck you like this?” he rasps. He presses his chest against yours, his cock hitting an angle that draws a lengthy moan from you. A crooked smile ghosts over Oliver’s lips. “Or maybe more like this…” 

His warm breath fans over your earshell.

“Tell me luv… How do our cocks compare?”

When you don’t respond, he roughly shoves inside you, his fingers cinching around your windpipe. You gasp in horror, gaping at him through tear-filled eyes.

“Answer me,” he instructs, his voice deeper than before.

“Y-You’re bigger than he is,” you sputter, struggling to get the words out with his hand squeezing your throat. 

A peculiar blend of excitement and disappointment swims in his gaze when you answer.

You weakly claw at his chest, squirming beneath him. He doesn’t let you go, bending to shove his tongue in your mouth. He drags his tongue over your face, licking your hot tears. Sobs jostle your frame.

“Oliver, please,” you repeat.

He shushes you, framing your chin. His thumb follows the outline of your bottom lip, bleeding and swollen from all his rough kisses. 

“Stop fighting it. Be a good girl.” He showers tender pecks across your collarbone before softly whispering against your temple, “Or I’ll tell Felix everything. That you came onto me, begging me to fuck you.” His devilish smile sears into your skin. “I’ll tell him what a good little slut you were for me.”

Your stomach drops. Oliver collects your tears with his fingertips. He shoves his fingers in his mouth, emitting a throaty moan at the taste of your despair. He then dips those same fingers in your mouth, his pelvis snapping into yours.

“It’s beautiful, how much you love him,” Oliver mumbles, growing harder inside you as a fresh wave of tears brim beneath your lashes. “You’re beautiful. I can see why he always comes back.” He rests his forehead against yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. 

“Maybe I’ll keep you for myself when this is all done.”

The awakening in the early morning is rude, the wicked headache and ache in your limbs reminding you of last night’s events right away. Strips of sunlight sneak between the curtains, caressing your face. The usually pleasant warmth does nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Your stomach clenches as you peer at your side. Oliver’s completely naked, only wearing the silver chain always around his neck. His arm is lazily spread over your belly. You don’t dare move, fearing he’ll wake up. 

What would you even say?

This is a disaster. You somehow ended up in Oliver’s room and…had sex with him. 

You swallow a shaky sob as your gaze travels low. Your panties are torn, which you didn’t notice last night. At least your clothes can still be worn, lying in a messy heap at the bottom of the bed. Carefully, you writhe your way out of Oliver’s hold and grab your clothes. 

You hastily put your skirt and shirt back on, trying not to cry when you realize you’re going to have to walk back to your dorm without your knickers. Heat rushes to your cheeks. 

You toss a glance behind you, relieved when you find him still sleeping soundly. 

You climb off the bed. Your heart leaps when the mattress squeaks as you rise. 

Pulse quickening, you head for the door. 

Pain radiates through your lower body when you move. You stagger the rest of the way, constantly tugging on your short skirt as you pray not to encounter any strong gust of wind on the way back.

Before leaving,  you look back. 

Oliver’s still sprawled on his side on the bed but his eyes are wide open now. 

No word leaves his mouth as he studies you in silence.

A wide, lazy smile slowly unfans on his lips. 

Your blood turns to ice. Fumbling with the doorknob, you scurry outside the door.

Once you’re outside, you slam the door closed.

You dart panicked glances around the corridor. Relief fills you when you note that it’s empty. For now. It won’t be long before students start milling about.

You shamefully return to your dorm. The entire walk back, paranoia lurks at the edge of your mind. You keep wondering if every stranger you come across can tell what you did.

And you keep hoping not to run across anyone you know.

When you reach your bedroom, you lock the door. You make a beeline for the bathroom. You need a shower, expeditiously. Oliver’s smell still lingers on you. When you catch your disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror, you’re shocked. You approach the mirror on unsteady legs. You crane your neck, your fingertips skimming over the two puncture wounds on your neck. A cool wave ripples down your back. It’s twisted. You feel like a character in a Polidori’s tale. Except this is reality somehow.

The one where you have to face the fact that you shagged your boyfriend’s new friend…and you’re not even entirely sure that you wanted it. Your mind throbs as you search through your memories. You changed your mind midway through. Oliver did not care.

Oliver did not care…

The ghastly realization has you keel over the toilet bowl to empty the meagre contents of your stomach. You slump to the floor and start quivering over the bathroom floor.

A sudden knock on your door has you rising from the floor.

Your heart skips a beat when you glance through the peephole.

“F-Felix?” you stutter, panic hitting a peak inside you.

His deep voice penetrates through the door.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asks. 

He sounds heartbroken, desperate. You almost unleash a sigh. You recognize this. You’ve been there before. This is a rollercoaster you can never get off of, the thrill when you’re high up entirely too intoxicating.

“Right now is not the best time.”

He heaves out a deep sigh. You can literally picture his kicked puppy expression, even with the door between you two. Your heartstrings flutter as you lean against the door. The craving to toss yourself in his arms wars with the sizzling betrayal still sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck. Are you still mad at me?”

Swallowing the surge of tears, you reply, “No. Just feeling a bit rough. Had a tad too much to drink last night.”

“I could take care of you…”

You nibble your lip. It’s tempting. He’s done it before. Bought you pastries and showered you with kisses and cuddles until you got better. When he wants, Felix can be the perfect boyfriend. When he wants.

“No,” you say firmly. “What do you want, Felix?”

“Can’t you just let me in, just for a minute, babe?” His pleading inflection shatters your meek fences.

“The park. In two hours,” you concede. “I got microeconomics right now, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you. Thank you.”

He’s overjoyed. You can’t bear it anymore. You race back to the bathroom as another wave of queasiness engulfs your insides.

Jittery steps lead you through the park as you rejoin him under an oak tree. You spent the last hour in class totally unfocused, your chest tight as you dreaded how this conversation would go.

“Felix,” you greet.

He wraps his arms around you. You remain still in his embrace, the distinctive scent of his cologne floating around you. You feel sick. Now it doesn’t remind you of Felix anymore.

“I really missed you.”

“Didn’t seem like it,” you mumble coolly.

His long exhale tickles your shoulder. “I know. I’m a wanker.”

“More like a selfish arsehole.”

His hold on you slackens as he draws back a little.

A look of hurt and shock covers his face. He isn’t used to you speaking to him so harshly. To him, you’ve only ever been sweet and forgiving. His brows crumple.

“I deserve that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Listen I… I almost did something awful last night.”

“What thing?” You fiddle with the scarf around your neck. It’s the sole last minute resort you found to conceal the mark decorating your throat.

Of course you know exactly what thing Felix is referring to. You saw it with your own eyes, that thing. If it weren’t for that, you may not be a complete wreck today.

“Doesn’t matter, cause I stopped. It’s not who I want to be anymore.” He cups your face, warm brown gaze diving into yours. “You make me better.”

Words leave your mouth without forethought.

“Who was it this time?”

He hesitates, his jaw tensing. But beneath your heavy stare, he finally caves in.

“It was Annabel.”

“Oh.”

The knife inside your chest twists. It’s one thing to know, to have seen. It’s another to hear it confirmed from your boyfriend’s own mouth. Last night wasn’t some dragged out nightmare; it was reality. When you turn your head, Felix pivots it back to him. 

Sincerity vibrates in his tone. 

“I ended up kicking her out though.” He wipes the single tear that spills down your cheek. “All I could think about was you, the entire time.” He strokes your face. “You’re the only one for me, babe. This is the last time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Fuck…” 

You spot something you never heard in Felix’s voice before. Fear. And instantly, you break. 

He leans his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he states.

You’re dumbstruck. Those words have crossed Felix’s lips at least a thousand times. He’s said them to so many, even strangers…but never to you. 

He came close a few times, but never has he been this clear, firm, his meaning unmistakable. Butterflies swarm your stomach. 

“I love you,” he repeats.

Felix plants a feverish kiss on your lips, leaving them tingling when he releases you. 

“I love you too,” you whisper as your hot breaths mingle.

A sunny smile breaks out on his face.

“No more lies from now on.”

A sinking feeling spreads through you, but you ignore it, returning his smile.

“No more lies,” you echo. Guilt eats at you the second you utter the words.

Felix’s attention veers from you as he waves at someone behind you.

“Hey, Ollie,” he shouts.

The air around you plummets to a few degrees. You go still against Felix, nudging a shaky smile onto your lips.

“I need to go to class,” you chime. 

You don’t even turn around, his presence alone sending your senses into alert.

Confusion scrunches Felix’s features.

“Your next class isn’t for another hour.”

You pat his chest, willing yourself to sound more cheerful than you feel.

“Just got some studying to catch up on beforehand.”

Felix’s fingers cling to yours as you try to leave. 

“I’ll see you tonight at the pub?”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t let you go until you give him another lengthy kiss. You’re uncomfortable, the weight of a certain somebody’s stare drilling holes into your back.

Things recede to relative normalcy, in some ways better than before, and in others worse. Better because of your relationship with Felix. It improves tremendously. He dotes on you more than he ever has, showering you with gifts and small attentions.

Worse because he’s still there, his unsettling presence the dark cloud over your rekindled romance. Each time you’re forced to be around him, there’s a knowing, smug glint dancing in his eyes, a subtle smile tugging his lips skywards. Perpetual fright eclipses your happiness, all because of Oliver Quick.

What if he told Felix everything? This was a mistake and you’re fairly sure you tried to stop it. You still have nightmares about that night, the way he held you down and wrapped his hand around your neck, stealing your air and ability to defend yourself.

You were helpless. Even letting Felix touch you is hard now, the memory of what Oliver did to you seeping through the cracks whenever you expect it least.

He branded you. And while the marks on your body may have faded, the ones engraved on your soul won’t vanish so easily.

It’s a blessing when Felix finally grows bored with him. You have no idea how it occurred. You simply know that they seem stitched at the hip for months then, suddenly, Oliver is gone. Felix shows up at group meetups without him and stops mentioning him altogether.

As if he took an eraser and wiped him from existence. Just like he did to Eddie back in the day.

You’re relieved…for an ephemeral while alas.

Oliver’s dad's abrupt passing changes everything overnight. 

Once more, Felix feels the need to be Oliver’s knight in shining armor. 

And once more the two of them are inseparable. Two peas in a pod.

You elect to take some distance. While you understand that Felix wants to help him, it doesn’t mean you have to. Thankfully, with summer fastly approaching, you won’t have to bear with Oliver Quick for much longer.

As usual, James and Elspeth urged you to come spend the summer at Saltburn, particularly Elspeth who couldn’t stop gushing about what a gorgeous couple you and Felix are. And while you may have tried to decline every other year, finding his family to be an awful lot, this year is different. This year, more than ever before, you long for an escape. 

Even the pits of hell would be a suitable vacation spot if it meant not having to run across Oliver Quick for two whole months. 

It’s a thrilling prospect. These days you can’t be around Felix as much because being around him means being around Oliver, and you just can’t do it. You look forward to having your boyfriend all to yourself. All day long, you dream about lazy afternoons by the pool and cloud-gazing in the grassy fields.

These are the balmy thoughts floating through your mind as you return to your dorm that day after classes end. A carefree smile decorates your face. You can’t wait to finish packing your suitcase. You saved every penny from your part-time job to buy a new swimsuit. And while it made a small dent in your savings, imagining Felix’s face the first time he’ll see you in it makes the tiny sacrifice worth it. 

But the smile on your lips dies when you cross the door to your bedroom. Your jaw drops, the stack of books in your hands crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper. You shrink against the door, maintaining as wide a distance as the small room allows.

Oliver doesn’t even spare you a glance, casually lying on your bed with one knee bent like it’s his.

“Your taste in books. A bit of a letdown I gotta say, luv,” he says, flipping the yellowed pages of one of your favourite novels.

You lick your lips. “Look, I’m sorry about your dad…but you can’t be here.” He doesn’t leave your bed, engulfed in his reading. Your brows knit. “Get out of my room, Oliver,” you repeat, folding your arms as you approach the bed.

His cobalt gaze finally settles on you. He places the book on the night table, slow and unhurried as he gets to his feet.

Your pulse soars as he inches closer.

“Or what? You’ll scream?” he challenges. He circles you, gauging you in a way that summons a picture of a lion stalking its prey in your head. Your blood curdles when Oliver’s breath caresses your nape. “Then you’ll have to explain what I’m doing in your room and make a scene.” His voice lowers to a taunting rasp. “Do you want to make a scene?”

Your voice comes out shaky. “What do you want?”

Oliver takes a deep breath while placing his hands on your shoulders. His thumbs trace a slow path along the column of your neck. His lips graze your earshell.

“I want you to come over here, lie on this bed and spread your legs like a good girl for me.” You suck in a sharp breath. His fingers drag down your arm as he adds, “I’m feeling…peckish.”

When you don’t move, he releases a deep sigh. 

“...Or I can tell Felix everything.”

Your heart starts hammering in your chest. “What?” you exhale, spinning to face him. 

Oliver smiles. 

“You guys are great right now. He says you’re the best you’ve ever been. No more lies. No more secrets.” Oliver bends close to you, his smile expanding. “How do you think he’ll react when I tell him that we fucked…” He pauses and you hold your breath. “And that you’ve lied to him about your family this entire year.” 

Goosebumps spread across your flesh. You stumble back, your eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. “H-How do you know about that?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, Oliver takes small steps forward, causing you to retreat until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. He places his hands on each side of you. His  gaze traces the motion of your neck as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“I…It’s not the right time of the month right now,” you lamely offer. 

Oliver’s blue eyes rise as he sinks to his knees in front of you. Tingles bounce over your skin as he rolls your plaid skirt up your thighs.

“And you think it’s something I’m worried about?”

A moan tears from your throat when he buries two fingers inside your core without a warning.

“From now on when I tell you to spread your legs for me, you do as I say,” Oliver informs, his fingers curving inside you. You choke on your breath. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Do you understand?” The threat laced in his tone scatters ice in your veins.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, Oliver,” he corrects.

“Yes…Oliver,” you sputter, legs tensing as his digits reach deeper inside you.

“I’m sure it’ll be a summer to remember.”

Between uneven breaths, you stammer, “W-What do you mean?”

He strokes under your thigh absently.

“Oh didn’t Felix tell you?” He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “I’ve been invited to Saltburn, as a guest.”

When Oliver leans away, he’s smiling from ear to ear. Excitement sways in his cobalt orbs as he studies your crestfallen expression. 

“I know. I’m looking forward to it too.” 

[shaisuki]

❝ FORMAL GREETINGS. ❞

✞ FEATURING. BULLY! GOJO SATORU AND GETO SUGURU

▶ SERIES MASTERLIST

CONTENT WARNINGS. flashbacks of being degraded and being called names (pig+whore+slut) + panic attacks.

NOTES. this was rushed. hoping it will be finally decent in the next chap. you can also comment/dm me to be untagged.

SYNOPSIS. after three years you're once facing again your tormentors. will you still be the same after that years or would it open new found feelings?

the light illuminating from your screen burns brightly that it almost affects your eyesight. your fingers almost turning into frigid from the lack of blood flow. you curl your fingers to stimulate before returning to punch the keys in your keyboard. drowning the sound of your coworkers chattering underneath their breath and the numerous phone ringing in your floor. deadline's approaching and you must finish this before your boss would chew you out. you can't break the streak yet, you're the employee whose in good terms with her boss and you won't allow a deadline to jeopardize it.

and then, click! you were finally done and you can finally sigh out of relief. turning in circles on your swivel chair before saving the finished report you were doing and then making a extra copy. you will never know what accident will happen and you don't want to redo all of your hard work. printing the documents, you clipped all of them. rechecking before putting it a folder and bringing it to your supervisor for them to check tomorrow.

you went back to your desk. cleaning the scraps in your desk and arranging the scattered files. you pressed the button of your monitor turning it off before placing your chair in its designated place and then you clocked out.

stepping outside, you take a look at building behind you. the younger you wouldn't dream of being here but fate played on you. part of you enjoyed it, part of you hated it. you guess you can't love something fully and it always made a reason to hate it.

the sun was setting in the horizon and it told you that you must need to be home soon and then you went to a nearest grocery store to pick the things you needed before going home.

unlocking the doors of your small apartment you rented, you placed your phone and keys at the countertop of your kitchen. storing the goods you have brought and you changed into something more of comfy. you opened your laptop, checking emails for tomorrow and finishing what's left of your workload.

yawning, you closed your laptop. it's time for bed and with that you drift into a dreamless sleep.

after dealing with the morning rush of your mode of transportation. you made your way inside the building. greeting your fellow employees with good mornings and catch up on the elevator and you were seated in your cubicle. doing your tasks for the day.

“(y/n).” your supervisor calls you. ushering you to their office and you left your cubicle to follow them. they handed you the report you had done yesterday. “your report is excellent as always and although it's my job to give it to the superiors, i need you to deliver it. the ceo will be needing it for today.” they said exasperated. their sight glued to their monitor and you nodded. top floor it is and then you walked away and climbed up to the highest floor where the ceo's office is located.

the elevator dings before opening to your desired floor number and you were in awe from his spacious the hallway is unlike the lower floors including yours. you heard that it is only the ceo who resides here. walking, you clutch the folder in your hands as you slowly move to get to your destination. you sighed in relief in what you presume the ceo's secretary is stationed here. a desk and drawer and a swivel chair in which she furiously taps on her computer. the sound of the acrylic in her nails evident.

“uhm, hello. where should i leave this?” you asked her. showing her the folder compiled with the reports you had done yesterday. she hums, glancing at you before giving you her full attention. she gave a sickly sweet smile. showing her pearly white teeth and her blood red stained lips is giving you the impression that she works in a club rather than a corporate one. her blonde curls gave you the impression it was bouncing from the way it moves.

“i should take it but strict orders. you can place it on his desk. just go straight right there and you'll find a door. just open it and leave the folder in his desk and you're good.” her voice cheery as she instructs you. extending her arm to show you the way. you nod and you thank her before leaving.

it wasn't that hard to find but when you were holding the bars of the door. you suddenly felt sick. it was like you were back at the days you desperately wanted to forget and holding the handle of the door feels like you were holding the lid of pandora's box and opening it will wreck havoc.

you are delivering papers and then you'll leave after you put it. you said to yourself. gathering the courage to open the glass doors and you take a few deep breaths before opening it. you look at the room, finding it to be deserted without the ceo inside.

the office is vast. it was like half of the size of the whole floor in the building. there's a desk made of a high quality wood along with a expensive swivel chair. a private room in the corner and is littered with a huge book shelf containing various variations of book. there's a few frames mounted in the wall, probably the past CEOs. there's also a hint of personal touches. a aquarium in the corner as is that a cookie jar? and there's also a container full of different sweets. that's new. you think nothing of it before you approach the desk to put the file. there's no need to marvel at this place. you have no business here except for this and you're done. before you can turn around to leave. a familiar voice calls for you.

“(y/n)?”

swallowing, you turned around to meet him.

“the only redeeming quality you have is this pussy of yours. without it you're nothing.”

“it's been bugging me for a long time. can you snort like a pig? of course, you can. come on, (y/n)-chan. oink. oink.....”

“you're a huge slut. acting out after not being given attention. you attention whore.”

“(y/n)?” there is it again.

you flinched. a involuntarily movement and then you shaked your head. blinking rapidly and offering him a sweet smile. you didn't realize he was calling your name before you answered to his call.

“sir? i'm just here to drop it off. i'm on my way now.” you told him before making your way out but before you can fully leave, he grabs you by the arm.

“i know but (y/n) —”

“...excuse me, sir. i really need to leave.” you cut him off and pulling your arm away from him. you alternate between half-walking/half-running making sure it was under the guise that you're running late and needed to make a run. not enough to raise suspicion you were avoiding him.

how many years was it? three? it's been long since he have last seen you and it didn't end in good terms. certainly, he didn't expect that he would see you here. in his office. looking so good and professional in that corporate attire of yours.

he can't believe it. he stares at your retreating figure until you disappeared from his sight. he needed to tell suguru all of this but before that he calls his assistant. wanting a full portfolio of yours. a background check of what happened to you after that night.

it was given to him. a file of yours containing all the details of your hundrum life. average and you were like all the regular daughter of regular parents. the before of your college life before you met them years ago and one point he searched for you after that night but there was nothing only a dead end. your parents are clueless of what happened to you and they treated you like you were dead. gone in a moment of where you're in the middle of reaching your dreams. he kept in contact at them. hoping or maybe miraculously that you would show again at their doorstep. he knows you also have a soft spot for your younger sibling. a brother whom you dearly loved. he also hoped that you will appear with fondness you have for your brother but you didn't.

the after is what he needed and all he got is the documents he have in his hand. he sat in his chair. making sure all his afternoon meetings are moved for him to know all of what happened to you in the last years after your disappearance that night and only finding of what briefly happened to your from shoko.

he found out you transferred to a another university. far from the reaches of him and suguru. continued your degree and been jumping from jobs after jobs trying to support yourself and it landed you here in his company. you were now an employee of his. working under him and satoru doesn't know what he'll do after finding this out.

he grabs his glasses before spinning it with his fingers. glancing at your picture pinned in your resumé. he traces it with his fingers. you didn't change. a small gentle smile in your face. how can he forget this face of yours when you're still the one who haunts his dreams.

he remembers your reaction earlier. you were so scared of him. masking it with a smile for your own good to avoid disappointing him. it was like a muscle memory for you. meeting you earlier and you looking so scared of him brings him back of memories of how both he and suguru were awful to you. he's much worse and it's new form him to feel this way. he didn't really care about the feelings of the people that surrounds him including you.

he needed a break and then he dials suguru's number.

the cafe where they usually frequents is where they decided to meet up and suguru takes the offer when satoru said he wanted to talk about something urgent. now he sit here with his friend. sulking and is rather stressed.

“she's back, suguru.”

the tea he was swirling with spoon creates a vortex the moment he stops his mixing. putting his cup, he raises a brow at satoru. “what do you mean she's back, satoru?” a little bit confused of what his friend is saying. a crazy-ex, a fling or someone he had done a one night stand comes back? he doesn't know.

satoru pouts at him. “(y/n).” the name rings in his ear like bells. the now ceo of the gojo company greedily shoves the souffle pancakes to his mouth. he knows his friend was a glutton but he looks rather bothered from it.

he had not heard of your name since that talk with shoko. he sips on his tea before asking gojo. “what of her, satoru?”

“she's working for my company. meaning she's my employee.”

“what of it?”

“i kind of talked to her but she left.”

gojo continues to ramble about what happened to you but he drowned it out. it's been years and you came back. he was close to giving up trying to find you and then like you always do came waltzing again in their lives once again. just like satoru he gathered all the information he can get his hands on but to no avail he didn't get your whereabouts despite the influence he have.

“i wanted to talk to her, ask what happened to her, suguru.” the man in front of him laments.

“you can't force (y/n) about that satoru. she maybe starting fresh on her life and doesn't need us to remind her of what happened.” he reasons to him but deep inside he wanted your answers too. shed a light to what really happened to you that night and how you ended up in a hospital and later to disappear from them.

“suguru, should i approach (y/n)-chan?” gojo asks him but he does not approve of the idea. “definitely not you idiot. you're going to scare her and don't exclude me you selfish prick.”

“for now, let's plan something about it.” he suggested and satoru begrudgingly accepted it.

the white hair, the now square shaped glasses and that face sends you in a mini panic attack. you don't know what'll happen to you if caught a glimpse of that blue eyes of his. your heart beating rapidly as you went to lock yourself in the comfort room. bile rising down your throat before throwing up the contents of your stomach in the sink. tears swelling in the corner of your eyes as you heave before throwing up another batch of what kind of mix like your breakfast, spit and bile.

you thought it was gone that you were a new person and the mere presence of him won't affect but how wrong you were. it was like spiders crawling up to your skin and digging to your flesh to make a home from the feeling of him touching you.

turning the faucet on, you cupped your hands to catch the water before splashing it to your face was like a wake up call that you cannot be affected by such touch or look at him and it won't be long before they're standing in front of you. you're not the hopeless version of yourself. you told yourself that but it's not that easy.

you wipe the fog sticking in the mirror and you stared at your reflection. you were still a remnant of your past self. you were you. a girl that was given a new chance of life to start a new and yet, you're here. won't be too late to leave this and start again? you're here now. there's no chance of running back. you can't think straight. your hands trembling and you can't help but to pity yourself. you were still a slave to your past and, and, and.....

it's neverending.

TAGLIST. @missakward1123 @lupitalove @i00bear @socialanxietyvictim @tourmalxine @labelt-san @ghostlyworld @kashxyou @chiiiiiiiiiiifuuuuuuuu @cute-sucker @skii-high @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @jossayuuu @bubblesandsand1-0 @ply4vnce @witchymermaid12 @luna-v-roiya @mariyumemi @sinfullygay @higurumapet @kvk6433qkcigv @s-j320 @bts-skz @imcreepininyourheartbabe @hazzelle-kento @cashcadaver @n1vi @kiruupon @vebbiewuzhere @its-princessmara @ssetsuka @unicornqueen05 @idkwhattimdoinghere2 @sunnytyun @tomriddles-wh0re @ya-mamaaaaa @wateriswhatiam @red-writes @saltyladyflower @greyclouq @bahurani @lovayle @okayiamkassandra @sealikesushi @sanzuandmikey @spicana @luvysmai @uniquenicefangirl @ushijimaschubbs @lansy-4 @eggieshiteru @jellibean2018 @uchihabucketlist @sunadmoby @cupidscourt @divinedolliebun @rottmntrulesall @mmeharuno @haesify @sleighter

[earthtooz]

x : DREAMS OF US :*+ﾟ

in which: you bring a little faith in promises back to itoshi rin.

warnings: 600+ wc, fluff, talks of moving in together, gn!reader who is in uni, rin is a pro (?) soccer player.

a/n: PHEWWW when was my last itoshi rin fic? been a while :> i have another rin (but it might turn into a reo fic tbh) fic and a sae fic in the works <3 this is my new year gift to you all. returning to our blue lock era for 2025!

Itoshi Rin doesn’t believe in shared goals, shared ambitions, shared dreams. 

He did, at some point, and it came crashing down on him like a snowstorm. He still remembers the snow, the frost permeating his bones as his older brother left him behind in a cold field, a once-treasured dream now in pieces. 

Since then, he hasn’t really wanted to accomplish anything with anyone else.

“It’s snowing.”

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts. Rin looks up from the cup of coffee he was stirring, thoroughly dissolving the spoon of sugar he just added. His teal eyes find you sitting at his kitchen bench, laptop and papers forgotten so you can admire the tiny snowflakes beginning to fall with a fascinated gleam in your eyes.

It warms him. You ignite a part of him he thought was snuffed out years ago.

“It is,” he says, rounding around the kitchen counter to give you your mug of coffee, made exactly to your tastes. 

“Thank you,” you smile up at him. He leans down to kiss your temple, pressing his lips firmly against your skin so you can’t forget the depths of his adoration. 

The professional soccer player only then notices what you were looking at on your laptop.

“Two bedroom apartments in Tokyo?” Rin reads out loud, even squinting at your screen to make sure that his eyes weren’t deceiving him. “Are you moving out?”

You’re not meeting his eyes, shrinking into the comfortable fabric of Rin’s hoodie and he suddenly gets the impression that he saw something he wasn’t supposed to. “Something like that,” you murmur into the mug.

“Two bedrooms? Are you going to move in with someone?” 

There’s a tight knot in Rin’s chest. Why couldn’t you just move in with him? 

“I, uh, was supposed to ask you this later but… would you like to move in with me?”

His eyes widen, mouth falling slightly agape as he stares down at you, and now you get the feeling that you’ve asked something you weren’t supposed to. Maybe almost two years of dating wasn’t enough time for the question to be asked, and now you just feel like an idiot-

Rin shakes his head, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. “Dumbass, you basically live here.”

You straighten your spine, a telltale sign that you’re about to rebut whatever he’s just said.

“Whatever! You were talking about finding a new apartment closer to central Tokyo, I thought this was the perfect opportunity for us,” you defend. “It is a bit expensive, though.”

“I earn enough. We can find a place close to the train station, you can get to work and university easier,” he suggests, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you against his torso. “Why are you looking at two bedrooms?”

“We can have a dedicated study. I can’t sleep sometimes when you’re watching your recorded matches in bed, y’know.”

Rin snorts. “Right. Can’t sleep so you drool on me.”

You punch his shoulder, and he doesn’t even react, eyes trained on your laptop screen as he scrolls through potential housing options. From where your face is pressed against his sternum, you murmur, “I like your current apartment, though, I like the wide windows, I can see the snow.”

“You can enjoy it until my lease is done. We can hunt for an apartment with wide windows until then so you don’t miss the snowfall.”

“‘Kay,” you murmur contentedly. “This can be our shared dream, then.”

And it’s funny, because Rin hasn’t heard that term in a long time. Every dream of his, he’s done alone. He hasn’t ‘shared’ a dream with anyone since Sae, and that came crumbling down in the blink of an eye. If he can’t trust his older brother to keep his word, then who can he trust?

However, you’re snug in his arms, in his hoodie, in his apartment, and a silent promise hangs in the air, and he realises now that with every dream of his, he has always imagined you to be a part of it.

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt3

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Taglist: @spideybv28@randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife

2009, Hungaroring

There was at least 2 weeks before Formula 1 went back to racing. It means that there was 2 weeks for Y/N to hide herself and that embarrassing situation she was in. 2 weeks to prepare herself how to pretend on how to act if she sees Sebastian.

'As long as Sebastian does not bring it up then I will pretend that nothing happened' she told herself.

She tried not to think about the incident by allowing herself to be buried with answering emails and looking into other things needed pre-race.

"Did you eat already?"

A sudden orange appeared in between her and the computer screen. Y/N didn't have to look up to see which driver handed the orange because there was only one driver who would always give her an orange.

"I haven't got the chance yet"Y/N replied to Sebastian

"You should probably eat. It's not good that you aren't eating" Sebastian insisted "Can't Mark do these things?"

"I'm his personal assistant remember, I'm paid to do these"

"But is it really necessary to finish it at the moment?"

It was pointless to argue with Sebastian so Y/N took the orange and closed her laptop.

"Happy?"she asked

"Very much"

The two of them started eating the oranges brought by Sebastian. It was a habit that the two have, Sebastian calls it a pre-race ritual. He actually believes he performs better when they share oranges. So here they are sitting and enjoying the oranges.

In the back of their minds, they are both thinking about that night at the hotel but there is a certain peace between the them. They don't want to ruin things by saying something stupid.

"You heard what happened with Massa right?"Y/N tried to establish a new topic just to get things off her overthinking.

"Absolutely felt bad for him. It's a good thing that he seems to be in a stable condition"Sebastian said.

The qualifying incident yesterday has been terrifying to watch. Y/N didn't want that happening to either Sebastian or Mark or even any other driver. Her heart dropped when she saw Massa being wheeled out unconscious to the hospital.

"Do you sometimes think that you'll ever stop racing?"Y/N wondered "You have been racing since you were like young and now you are stil racing"

"I honestly don't know, racing is all I have ever known" Sebastian admitted.

"I know, you were born gripping on a steering gear I bet" Y/N joked which made Sebastian laugh too.

"But seriously, if you ever want to retire of racing. Don't retire and go out because you got badly injured. Retire because you want to"Y/N added

It was her way of saying that she is extremely cared about him. Maybe its something that she cannot put into words but maybe Sebastian can figure it all out, he is a smart man in Y/N's opinion.

With a comforting smile, Y/N was assured that he got the message.

2009, Spa-Francorchamps

"Did you try texting Mark?"

Christian Horner and Sebastian Vettel are both in a meeting room about to discuss some things with the team strategists. They were supposed to meet up 10 minutes ago but they can't go on with the meeting since Mark is not around.

It was highly unusual for Mark to be late. He is never late as far as Sebastian knows. He considers giving Y/N a text when the door burst open.

"I'm gonna punch Button in the face when I see him"Mark Webber was fuming when he entered late at the conference room.

"Hold on, what did Jenson do?"

"Punk tried to ask my sister out"Mark huffed.

"He did what?" Christian butted in the conversation "I thought Sebastian was dating Y/N"

"HOLD ON WHAT?" "EXCUSE ME?"

The two red bull drivers were on their feet. Mark seems to be ready to hit Sebastian while Sebastian was debating which exit is much more safer. Frankly, Sebastian was never afraid of Mark but with the way he is shooting daggers with his eyes- If looks could kill, Sebastian was 4 feet under ground now.

"I just thought Sebastian was dating Y/N, they are always together when she isn't following you around Mark" Christian explained.

"My sister and Sebastian?" Mark repeated

Sebastian wanted to explain himself to Mark but he is internally panicking. If Christian, their team principal, can notice then there is a big chance that his feelings might be obvious to other people in the paddock.

At the same time, he felt a sick feeling in his stomach upon realizing that Jenson Button asked out Y/N. Jenson had the courage to ask her out and Sebastian couldn't even talk to Y/N about what happened weeks ago.

Christian seems to sense the tension that he brought to the two red bull drivers

"Maybe its just me and my understanding, right seb?" Christian apologized

"Huh yeah, mmhh nothing going on" Sebastian lied

There was a sharp gaze from Mark "I'm watching you"

"Let's talk about Jenson"Christian redirected the topic "maybe he is just trying to get a rise off you. We're slowly closing on him for the championship"

"If I hit that boy with a car this Sunday, I won't regret it" Mark swears.

"Don't bring your personal life on the car" Christian reminded.

Sebastian seems to take it as a mental note for himself as well. He was actually debating that if Mark wasn't successful in punting Jenson then he would.

"Besides Y/N has to date, she is in that age of dating" Christian added

Sebastian knew that Mark has been the kind of sibling that is overly protective. Given that Y/N has been the youngest one and the one that has been following Mark around, Mark has a special worry about her. It was very understandable why he acts like this.

"As much as I could, I will not let my sister date drivers." Mark says with finality.

It felt like it wasn't just a statement meant for Jenson but it was also something meant for Sebastian. Great, now Sebastian feels like everything is more complicated than it was before.

2009, Interlagos

It wasn't Y/N's brightest idea that she went on a date with Jenson Button. She figured after weeks of being constantly asked by Jenson, she should give him a chance. She thought it could also help lessen her feelings for Sebastian.

It's a pretty bad idea now that she thinks about it.

But there was no going back because here she is sitting with Jenson at a small restaurant somewhere in Brazil.

Don't get her wrong but Jenson is charming and he knows how to make people comfortable. He is a gentleman, he picked her up with roses, asked her for her favorite dish, and was kind enough to lend his jacket when she is feeling a bit cold.

But there is something missing about Jenson.

"You know, I really enjoy spending time with you tonight"Jenson started "But are you enjoying yourself?"

"I'm sorry its just that its my first time going out for dates, I'm not good with this sort of thing" Y/N replied

"That's okay, I'm glad to be the first one to take you out"

Y/N felt the guilt of lying eating her up so she quickly wanted to clear out the air "Jenson, you are a really nice guy but you know I really think its better if we become friends instead?"

There was a small smile from the British driver. It seems like he has also felt that he was about to be friendzoned tonight.

"It's perfectly fine Y/N, I just really enjoy your company"

The dinner continued on more smoothly and they were able to share some personal details about their life. It felt like an air of relief for the two of them to clear out things that this will not be a failed date but rather a new friendship.

The media on the other hand has seen a different story.

Jenson Button winning on and off track against Red Bull?

In case you missed it, the newly declared Formula 1 champion, Jenson Button, has been seen in a restaurant in Brazil having dinner with a very special lady. Who is this mystery lady? It's Mark Webber's sister and personal assistant, Y/N.

The pairing is a shocker for everyone since Red Bull is the main competitor of Button this season. It seems like the two are a star crossed lovers in the making. People who have been in the restaurant has noted how the pair were giggling and close to one another.

We can't wait what Mark will have to say about this pairing.

2009, Yas Marina Circuit

"Sebastian please just slow down"Y/n begged.

It was really petty for Sebastian to be angry and ignore Y/N but he felt really confused on how to act around her. Ever since he read that stupid article, its all that he could think about. So while he couldn't deal with his emotions then he thinks its best to avoid her like the plague.

"I'm busy" Sebastian's curt reply

"Oh c'mon, you are not busy. You are ignoring me" Y/N was still hot in trail "This is so childish and stupid"

"Me? Stupid?" Sebastian stopped and turned to face her.

"You are calling me stupid when you are the one out there having dinner with the enemy"Sebastian wasn't thinking at this point.

"The enemy? Do you think I'm giving out secrets to Jenson?" she asked in shock

"Yes, Jenson is our enemy. You should have not gone on a dinner date with him, don't you have any sense of loyalty to the team?"

Sebastian could see the tears starting to form in her eyes. He knows that he said the wrong things and its not something that he can take back. Everything was just so heated.

"You believe those tabloids than me?"

"I don't know what to believe. You two looked pretty cozy on that front page" Sebastian really wanted to shut himself by now but jealousy is a sick sick disease that cannot be stopped.

"That's real mature of you Seb, you disappoint me" she sounds so defeated "Out of everyone, you were one of the people who I thought would believe me rather than what was painted by the media"

"Y/N you can't fault me on that, you were close"

"We were just friends and besides I-" she caught herself to stop.

There was a confession at the other end of Y/N. She almost confessed how she cannot see herself with Jenson because all she can see is how he is not Sebastian and all she wants to love is Sebastian. It was a good thing she caught herself before she slipped again.

"Besides what?" Sebastian wondered.

"Never mind. Talk to me when you mature"

"Yeah that's real mature, run away when you don't wanna face the consequences of your actions" Sebastian chastised.

Y/N felt that her tears are falling so she could only turn away and run the other direction. Sebastian, on the other hand, felt like hitting himself. It was the type of conversation he wanted to avoid because he could not contain his emotions. He bitterly regrets how this was their last conversation for 2009.

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 6

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt, language, PTSD, violence, mention of drugs, mention of torture, mentally unstable Soldier Boy, anger issues

Word Count: 3127

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

For the previous three days, Soldier Boy, Butcher, and Hughie had been searching for you and researching research from several decades ago. Ben wasn't doing well since he was becoming more and more impatient every day and was preoccupied with what he had done to you. The most difficult part was that you might still be tortured while he is free, in spite of his failings. He was struggling not to punch the two idiots who said they could help him find you, but the fact was that he felt guilty for not finding you quicker.

Soldier Boy was constantly smoking weed, and Hughie was staring at the screen of the device he had in his lap, which he called his "laptop." Soldier Boy was taken aback to discover that the device's internet genuinely knew everything. He studied everything fascinating about the modern world during the night so that when he found you, he could teach you such things.

“According to an official statement, Y/N betrayed the company by selling specific highly confidential information to Russia. This had to have happened after you were captured and taken to Russia. Am I correct?” Hughie questioned, showing Soldier Boy the date.

Ben became outraged and said with rage, “Yes,” taking a tenth sniff at the drugs that were on the table. “She didn't rebel against the government; screw that. Selling information to Russia? She wouldn't even offer her flowers for sale.” He truly wanted to prevent himself from punching Hughie or the internet. “Fucking snakes.”

Hughie and Butcher exchanged a look as Soldier Boy went on to swear and praise your innocence. Hughie got a bit anxious when he heard his heater's alarm go off.

With a swift “Okay, okay,” Hughie calmed Soldier Boy. “You can't always rely on the Internet. Everyone knows that already.”

With a suspicious voice, Butcher asked Soldier Boy, glancing at the TV from Hughie's other side, “Why did she leave them though? There has to have been something that happened.”

Soldier Boy was making a lot of effort to move past these painful recollections in order to start over, but those guys were a little too inquisitive and were doing everything in their power to make him feel uncomfortable. He lied, not knowing what to say, saying, “I don't know.” He could feel the heat rising in his chest every second as a result of their pointless questions.

Soldier Boy inhaled deeply and paused for a moment, ruminating on the day he fired you from the team in a very jackass way. If he had seen the previous version himself, he would have suffered a major head injury. You wouldn't have had to go through such things if only he had listened to you once. He caused you to be hurt in every manner possible.

“She didn't do anything wrong, yet I dismissed her from the squad. Noir is the reason everything happened. What a fucking  traitor!” In an attempt to hide his errors by placing the blame elsewhere, Soldier Boy said it aggressively.

Butcher's eyebrows rose up, and he turned to face Hughie, who had been trying to figure out what Soldier Boy was saying.

“What action did Black Noir take? I take it that he didn't fuck her or something during the time you developed feelings for her.” Butcher questioned him in a humorous way.

Ben growled, “Watch your fucking language, or I'm going to make you gargle my hairy balls in that garrulous mouth of yours,” while Butcher gave him a frightened little look to Hughie, who was about to pee in his trousers since the alarm of the heater was freaking him out with his every word. They wouldn't do well if Butcher continued to annoy Soldier Boy in that way.

“You don't need to know the fucking details; just find her,” Soldier Boy continued, cutting Butcher off before he could say anything else.

This states that she would be imprisoned in America for the rest of her life due to her betrayal and that her body would be studied in the future. It appears they covered up your situation but not hers. Hughie continued to scam every headline about you, saying, “There is no more recent news.”

When Hughie said your body would be examined by the best scientists and doctors, Soldier Boy cursed again. Despite being the strongest superhuman in the world, they had tried to kill him by torturing him severely for years. Even to him, they were all downright painful and disgusting. He didn't want to think about how much pain you endured for decades because of his mistakes. When he saved you from the lab, he would make sure everyone who had harmed you died there, and you could start over.

“Actually, we have a very good friend from Vought. She is also conducting extensive searches by herself. It won't be long until we locate your teammate for you.” Hughie said as he picked up his phone as soon as it began to ring.

Despite the fact that it has been a week and the explosion he created is still being shown on TV every night, Soldier Boy cautiously listened to every phone call in the hopes of learning something about you. However, there was still no single sign. He was sure they were plotting new plans to capture him once again. All of them were fucking cowards.

Butcher offered Soldier Boy a glass of whiskey while Hughie was on the phone with Annie in the kitchen.

“Is he fucking a supe woman?” Soldier Boy asked in disbelief. That guy, Hughie, was full of surprises, though his face was screaming that he was a bottom.

“Never judge the book by its cover,” Butcher smirked.

“So the whole thing was a lie, huh?” As if Ben hadn't repeated the same thing a hundred times, Butcher inquired again. “She must have done something really bad to find herself in a situation like yours.”

Butcher was interested in hearing the story because he wanted to know what was ahead. Dealing with Soldier Boy was dangerous enough, but it would become even more problematic if you shared his anger management issues. For a week, Butcher watched your films and interviews, but he was aware that the media was the least reliable source on earth, particularly when it came to superheroes.

With a menacing glance at Butcher, Soldier Boy merely stated, “She didn't do anything wrong. All she wanted to do was get herself free from the team. It seems that they decided not to respect her decision to leave.”

“What do you think she’ll do when she’s free?” Butcher asked with curiosity and added, “Will she team up with you again despite all?”

For days and hours, Soldier Boy had considered saving you, but he dismissed your feelings upon seeing him again. Thinking about it was not something he wished to do. Even though he was well-known for his confidence, he had been secretly experiencing some insecurity lately, even if he didn't want to acknowledge it. It wasn't that he didn't look nicer; in fact, he was in better form than before, but he was anxious that your opinion might change about him. He was aware that your rescue was more essential than those things, though. Later on, he would be considering the relationship between you.

“I don’t know, but of course she’ll team up with me,” he said trying to sound confident and sure of himself.

Soldier Boy instantly got up from the couch when Butcher's lips parted to ask another question. He focused on the woman Hughie was speaking to on the phone. She was talking about a supe expert physician who had been assigned to study the bodies of the captive supe for scientific purposes for decades, someplace in America.

With great excitement, Hughie hung up the phone and turned to face Butcher and Soldier Boy. He said, “Annie found something. Searches conducted by the government on supe bodies appear to have begun decades ago with Soldier Boy and Y/N. They recruited the world's brightest physicians and scientists to work strictly with Vought.”

Soldier Boy impatiently urged him, saying, “Go on” and tell all the shit already.

“All right. There is a single scientist in charge who watches over all supe captives for his scientific studies. He is required to report to Vought twice in a span of three months, in great detail. It has continued for many years. He is retired last year, but he most likely has knowledge of the location of Y/N.”

Soldier Boy thought, Fuck. At last, he located you. As Hughie spoke about the significant possibility of somebody knowing your whereabouts, his heart raced with excitement.

Butcher said, “Starlight did a really good job there, huh,” with a meaninful grin at Hughie's bashful but proud smile.

After a little period of time spent lost in thought, Soldier Boy eventually grabbed his shield from the corner, straightened his suit, and exclaimed, “Let's fucking give a visit this son of a bitch.”

Soldier Boy ignored Butcher and Hughie's warnings and used a forceful move to smash through the old man's door after spending hours on the road and thinking about you. Soldier Boy cast a glance in the direction of the elderly man and thought, ‘They could go fuck themselves.’ Because of his alleged scientific accomplishments about the supes, he was obviously living in luxury. As Soldier Boy cautiously made his way inside the doctor's huge home, his heart was filled with immense fury. He considered the number of times this old cunt had tormented you in order to send Vought a disgusting report.

The doctor was sitting on his couch, watching the news on TV, when he noticed Soldier Boy standing right in front of him. As the strongest supe and two other men entered his home as if they intended to kill him, he was in disbelief and did not know what to do.

After cleaning his spectacles, the doctor said in a shaky, scared voice, “What's happening? Why are all of you in my house?”

Butcher replied, “This is not very welcoming of you, old man,” and he turned off the TV before sitting down on the closest chair. Hughie swiftly but gently took the phone from the old man's hands when Butcher noticed him reaching for it. Hughie made the doctor sit down again with the same gentleness.

Soldier Boy gripped his shield more firmly, as though he were about to engage in combat with his greatest enemy. He gazed at the elderly man in front of him who was in fear and worry, and he loathed him. Still, he had good reason to be frightened. After all, that would be his last day.

“You live in a nice, big house, huh?” Soldier Boy spoke as he moved slowly in the direction of the doctor. “It appears that you made a good living off of the supes you tortured.”

As Soldier Boy approached with menacing steps and a look like a bloodthirsty murderer, the doctor gulped down nervously. “It's not what you think. I don't know how you escaped from Russia, but you need to stay calm and listen to me,” the elderly guy remarked, raising his hand in protest. “My actions were crucial for both the ongoing wellness of the world and the study of supe.”

"Why the fuck would I listen to your bullshit at all?" Standing by the elderly doctor, Soldier Boy remarked fiercely. “You tortured and used supes for money, you fucking old shit.”

The doctor raised his eyebrows slightly and replied, “Not for money. My work throughout the years has contributed to a better understanding of superhero bodies, which has made it easier to bring your kind to the pinnacle of perfection.”

Before Soldier Boy, Butcher growled, “Perfection? Fuck that. You just made the government's weapons better, served their evil shit for years. Nothing more.”

Soldier Boy battled to contain the heat rising from his chest. Instead of apologizing and beg for his life, the doctor didn't acknowledge that what he had done was wicked and immoral and continued to defend himself which made Soldier Boy even more angrier.

“I saw the explosion in New York from the TV,” the doctor said, adjusting his eyeglasses and looking at Soldier Boy carefully. “You cannot deny that what you experienced in Russia made you stronger and better.”

“I killed people there, you sick old fuck.” Soldier Boy grunted and looked at the doctor with disgust. “Have you fucking lost your humanity by examining the supes for years?”

Without letting the doctor  talk any further, Soldier Boy asked angrily, “Where is Y/N? Don’t tell me you don’t know a shit, because I fucking know you sent some reports about her to Vought.”

Butcher and Hughie worriedly watched Soldier Boy, his hand clenched into a fist, as if he may blow at any moment. Soldier Boy grew angrier the longer the old bitch talked. 

The doctor honestly said, “Yes. I spent decades working on her. I can't dispute that she's a bit of a rebel, or somewhat resistant. But because of the research we were able to conduct on her body, we were able to perfect Comp-V, which undoubtedly contributed to Queen Maeve's current status as the strongest female supe in history. And without a doubt, your body assisted Homelander in becoming the strongest supe ever.”

Hughie muttered, "Holy fucking shit," at witnessing the ascending smoke rising from Soldier Boy's chest.

“Where is she now?” Soldier Boy repeated, trying to maintain composure and control over his body while ignoring what the doctor said. “Where on earth are you keeping her concealed?”

“Calm down. I'll tell you where she is,” stated the doctor. “It appears that there will be no stopping what is about to come about, which will ultimately bring the two of you face to face with the Seven. When you get back to where you belong, you'll both realize how weak and worthless they are; you'll see they are the upgraded versions of yourselves.”

Hughie and Butcher quickly left the house after realizing that Soldier Boy would soon blow up the entire place. The doctor didn’t feel anymore as he realized it was his end. He knew such thing would happen sooner or later. He had already a good life after all.

It's fine, he thought, if it was a challenge. If needed, he could simply kill those seven whores. Soldier Boy was willing to remind them all how fucking stupid it was to fuck with him. If this fucking old dick believed he had made the new supes better than him and the rest of the world agreed with his bullshit, Soldier Boy would show them how wrong they all were.

“Where is she?” Soldier Boy growled again as he was getting closer to blow up.

“She’s in Ohio,” the doctor said, giving the full address just before Soldier Boy exploded the whole place into ashes.

This time, unlike the second explosion he had in New York, he did not pass out. He was relieved and at ease at the same time because it appeared that he was becoming more adept at using his new powers. Luckily, he was also able to locate you at last. He got in the car and gave the address he was given to Butcher, who had been looking into the damage Soldier Boy had done after leaving the burned-out house. Hughie's eyes widened in fear as he crouched where he was seated. 

After several hours, Butcher drove them to a massive, desolate structure that resembled the one in Russia. Soldier Boy was more nervous and angry than ever as he recalled unpleasant experiences, but his need to see you overcame these emotions. His gaze was fixated on the building as they all got out of the car. So that's where you were imprisoned there for years, apart from him and all alone.

Soldier Boy led the way without speaking a word, and when five guys came up to stop him from entering inside, he threw them hard against the wall. It was funny because some of them started shooting at him, like they could hurt him or something. Soldier Boy killed some of the men with his shield, cutting off their heads, and killed some of them with his bare hands, making sure not a single one remained alive.

Butcher followed behind Soldier Boy, providing his assistance with his own firearm while blasting at men who were making desperate attempts to stop them.

As Soldier Boy massacred everyone there and killed those who were wailing in agony, the place fell silent. After all, each and every one of them had a hand in hurting you.

Soldier Boy and Butcher looked everywhere for you. He knew you were in the lab when he walked into a massive, frigid room. Your soothing scent and presence were sensed throughout his entire body despite it was weak. He swiftly ripped off the metal door and killed the last person standing behind it, ripping her heart from her chest in one motion and ignoring her cries.

He found you in a similar-looking metal box to his, with an item covering your face and putting you to endless sleep. Soldier Boy approached your capsule while laying his shield on the ground and with a heavy heart.

“I kept my promise,” Butcher stated, hoping Soldier Boy wouldn’t betray their deal and thankfully, he gave him a promising nod.

“Here's my sleeping beauty,” Soldier Boy murmered, unable to contain his smile as his heart warmed upon seeing your peaceful face, before he violently tore off the metal door to free you.

Next Chapter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

A/N: Thank you for your comments for the previous chapter! They made me really happy. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated. -`♡´-

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto  @yvonneeeee @starryperson  @mfnqueen1 @chaand-sitara @boywivlove @stilinskisthings @brynanna @delaynew @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @yoyoanaria @n-o-p-e-never @ghostslillady @certifiedhaters

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series! -`♡´-

[rileyslibrary]

i don't know if you've already gotten this but if you haven't can you please make a part 3 to the ghost and Lt fic? it was so, so good, you had me on the edge of my seat the entire time. jealous ghost is everything i never knew i needed and more. your writing is just too good that i have to know what happens next. thanks! 🫶

Hey reader! Glad you liked it! I wrote something quick for ya but I’m afraid there’s a more sensible Ghost in this one. It’s how I’d like to finish the “new Lt.” Saga. Oh well, hope you like this one as much as the last one! 🍫

Synopsis: Captain Price’s decision to put you with Ghost and Lt. Wilson in the same room serves more as a punishment to you than to them. You have Price’s number on speed dial, ready to pull the trigger.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,033

Notes:

This is the final part of the story. Here’s Part 1, and Part 2.

Warning: The usual swearing.

Want more?

———————————————————————

Captain Price came into your office the day of the conflict and “made a few arrangements,” as he—very politely—said. These “arrangements” weren’t a big deal to an outsider, but enough for the three of you to be on edge.

And that tension didn’t come in the form of profanities or fist punches and yells. It was a lingering tension. Like the smell of fresh coffee in the morning as you walk down the stairs to the hotel’s breakfast area. Only it wasn’t coffee you smelled in this room; it was a combination of some leftover bitterness and unresolved conflict, mixed with the smell of iodine that both regularly applied on their—physical—wounds. Because the other type of wounding that Captain Price inflicted on them was pretty hard to be fixed with mere antiseptics and bandages. It seems like the Captain’s decision really hurt their ego.

See, Captain Price had this fantastic ability to make you feel small and insignificant just by smiling at you. He wasn’t direct like Ghost was. No. He was very subtle with his scolding if he ever did such a thing. He was the kind of person who would deliver criticism in the form of tropes, planting seeds in your mind so you would discover later on that they flourished and became trees filled with ripe fruit. A strong supporter of fixing something rather than scrapping and starting from the beginning, he decided not only to allocate Lt. Wilson in the same office as you and Ghost but to sit them next to each other, elbow-to-elbow.

Have you ever seen two kids whose parents have just scolded them? Sure you have; you’re looking at them right now as they sit before you.

One still wears his balaclava, with one black eye peaking out. He’s resting his head on the one hand, reading through some papers. He seems defensive but also embarrassed. Can you blame him? He not only jeopardised and almost risked his position in such an exuberant way, but having his arch nemesis as a “work buddy” was enough for him to build up his walls.

The other is bruised around the eyes due to him suffering a kick straight to the nose. He seems angry, but you’d be too if a giant beast jumped you from across the table. He moves frantically, pushing buttons on the laptop’s keyboard like a passionate pianist delivering his solo to an audience. His demeanour had changed dramatically as well. There was no more flirting, no unnecessary winking or pointing finger guns. He acted like a… soldier, for once.

And you? You were a wallflower. Trying to make as little noise as possible, closing drawers quietly, as if a newborn is sleeping next to you, not asking much, and peaking over your computer’s screen to monitor their behaviour, just like Captain Price ordered you.

“Are you trying to punch through the desk with your fingers, man?” Ghost asks Wilson, and you immediately tense up.

“‘This piece of shit doesn’t save my document,” Wilson replies while repeatedly pushing the same key.

You grab your phone. Captain Price gave you his number and advised you to call him immediately if things were about to take a wrong turn.

“I don’t care what you’re trying to achieve on that thing,” Ghost says, “but you’re pretty successful in pissing me off right now.”

Your heart jumps to your throat, and you unlock your phone.

“I’m not doing it on purpose, man!” Wilson exclaims, “though can’t say I’m not chuffed for doing that to you.” He continues smirking.

“What a fucking prick,” Ghost says and slides his chair to Wilson’s desk. “Let me show you.”

You shoot yourself up and show them your phone with Captain Price’s phone ready on speed dial.

“ONE MORE MOVE, AND I CALL PRICE.” You shout, and they both turn to look at you dumbfounded.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, doll?” Wilson yells back, “Lt. Is trying to help.”

“The hell, love?” Ghost agrees and raises his hands in the air in a stance of innocence, “here, look,” he says, putting one hand on the mouse and the other on Wilson’s keyboard.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Wilson mutters and turns to Ghost, “is this how we’re gonna have them every day?”

“Beats me, man.” Ghost replies, “can’t make a move anymore.”

You look at Wilson, then turn to Ghost, then back to Wilson. Neither is paying attention to you. Ghost is explaining to Wilson that he removed the “.docx” extension, and that’s why he couldn’t save the document. Wilson thanks him, and Ghost nods. He slides his chair back to his desk.

“You play football, by the way?” Wilson asks Ghost.

“I do,” Ghost nods, “how’d you know?”

“That kick,” Wilson explains, “was like you shot a penalty.”

Ghost briefly chuckles, “don’t make me laugh,” he says, “my tooth hurts.”

“From the punch?” Wilson asks, laughing, and Ghost nods. “I can give you my dentist’s contact details,” Wilson suggests, “he’s brilliant at fixing teeth.”

Ghost gives him a thumbs up and immediately lifts his index finger to form a gun, “appreciate it, mate,” he says.

He appreciates it? Wh- mate? F- finger guns? It just occurred to you that you’re still standing, holding that phone close to your chest.

“Right, I’ll go make us all some tea!” Wilson says as he stands up and claps his hands.

You both look at him exiting the room, then turn at each other.

I know what you’re about to say,” Ghost begins, “but let me explain first.”

You furrow your eyebrows and place your phone on your desk. “Please do, Simon.” You say and cross your arms over your chest.

“There’re two options here,” he says, tilting his head to the side. “I either attempt to put some sense to the guy for continuing to call you doll, which will result in Captain kicking me out for good”, he explains. “Or,” he continues, tilting his head to the other side, “I bite the bullet and bare his nonsense just so I can continue being here.”

You blush and smile at him. “Here?” You ask.

“Yes, here,” he replies and meets your gaze, “with you.”

———————————————————————

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Bunny - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

(Part 4)

Pairing: Joker x Fem!Reader

Joker x Reader with Anxiety

Word Count: 9892

Warnings: Joker, lol

Summary: Poor Y/n let herself go while Joker was locked up, now she's sick and Joker's goons have to look after her

A/N: Took a while to get this one out (shocking) but got it done! a bit on the shorter side of my other fics, but I didn't really have much for this part, it's more of a little fun one

(Laptop was playing up again, so had to post from my phone, will fix later)

Hope you enjoy this part 💚

-

It had been an agonising week without Joker. Normally, this wouldn't have been a cause for concern, disappearing for stretches of time was just something he did. But this time was different. This time, she knew he was in trouble, and the weight of that knowledge pressed down on her like a vice. Her anxiety, already a constant companion, had become an unbearable storm of worry and dread.

The news outlets seized every opportunity to cover the story of Joker being locked up, using every scrap of information. While the police remained tight-lipped, determined to withhold key details, the public had ways of uncovering the truth.

Grainy cell phone footage of Joker in a shitty holding cell circulated online, and rumours spread like wildfire. Everyone seemed to have an opinion, their voices merging into a deafening roar that only added to Y/n’s unease.

Every time she passed a television or scrolled through her phone, there it was, his face plastered across the screen. Headlines blared about his arrest, speculating on his motives, his crimes, and what the authorities planned to do with him. Each broadcast felt like a punch to the gut, a painful reminder that he was out there, caged, while she was here, powerless to do anything about it.

She was surprised to see that his makeup was still intact. Whether the authorities hadn’t bothered to remove it or had tried and failed, it didn’t matter. His face remained as she remembered it, boldly painted and defiant, other than little empty patches here and there. Oddly enough, it brought her a small sense of comfort, a reminder that even in their custody, he was still him.

She couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Her mind replayed their last moments together over and over, dissecting every detail, searching for some sign, anything, that he had a plan to get out of this. Because he always had a plan…didn’t he?

Y/n paced her small apartment, her nails chewed down to the quick, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She considered calling someone, Rocco, maybe, but what would she say? Who could she trust? And even if she found someone to talk to, what could they do?

The uncertainty gnawed at her. Joker’s absence wasn’t just a void in her life, it was a ticking time bomb, and she was terrified of what might happen when it finally exploded.

The days dragged on, blurring together as Y/n confined herself to her room. She couldn’t bring herself to do much of anything. Her appetite was nonexistent, and the thought of eating made her stomach churn. The only thing she consumed was water, and even that was more out of necessity than care.

The once-cozy space she called home felt suffocating, the walls seeming to close in on her. Her bed became her constant companion, the blankets pulled around her like armour against the world outside. She hadn’t bothered to tidy up or even open the curtains. The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of her phone screen.

Her reflection in the mirror told a story of exhaustion, dark circles under her eyes, her skin pale and dull. She felt as though the weight of her worry for Joker had physically anchored her to the bed.

She didn’t want to see anyone. Avoiding her friends, ignoring texts, and letting her phone calls go unanswered, she kept herself isolated. Leaving her room felt pointless when her mind was consumed by thoughts of him.

Her chest tightened every time the news flickered on in her head, imagining the cold, sterile cell he was probably in. It was a mental loop she couldn’t break out of, and it left her drained.

Y/n’s neglect of herself was becoming painfully obvious, the toll on her body undeniable. Her once-vibrant complexion had turned discoloured and lifeless, dark shadows lingering beneath her hollow eyes. Her cheekbones were more pronounced, the lack of proper nourishment leaving her looking gaunt and fragile.

Her energy levels had plummeted. Even simple tasks like standing up or walking across the room left her feeling lightheaded and weak. Her muscles ached from lying in bed for so long, and her legs felt shaky when she did manage to pull herself up.

The dehydration was catching up with her, despite the water she drank. Her lips were cracked, her skin dry and rough to the touch. Her hair hung limp and dull, reflecting the lifelessness she felt inside.

Her immune system stretched thin from stress and lack of sustenance, left her vulnerable to every chill in the air. She must have developed a slight fever that she didn’t have the strength to care about, brushing off the sweat on her brow as just another inconvenience.

Y/n’s body was screaming for help, yet her mind remained fixated on Joker. It was as if she’d become a shadow of herself, physically and mentally drained, all because the one person she cared about most was out of her reach.

Y/n lay sprawled on her bed, her body heavy with exhaustion. Her arms felt like lead, barely able to reach the half-empty water bottle sitting on her bedside table. Her fingers brushed against it weakly, but even the small effort was too much. She let out a soft, defeated sigh, her dry lips barely parting.

Her gaze, blurred and unfocused, was fixed on the ceiling when the creak of her door made her heart skip. She thought it was just another trick of her mind, her exhaustion had caused her to hallucinate sounds before. But this time, shadows fell across the dim room, and she slowly turned her head.

Her vision was too poor to make out details, the figures were just dark blurs against the soft glow of the hallway light. Panic fluttered in her chest. Was she dreaming? Or had her mind finally cracked? She blinked hard, trying to clear her sight, but the figures remained.

Then one of them stepped closer, and a familiar, gravelly voice filled the room. “Boss sent us,” Rocco said simply, his tone gruff yet somehow grounding.

Y/n’s breath hitched. It wasn’t a hallucination. These were real people, they were in her room. She managed to push herself up on trembling arms, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. How had they gotten in? The door was locked...wasn’t it? How fucking shit was this dorm’s security?

Her bleary eyes darted to the second figure, standing just behind Rocco. She didn’t recognise him, this one was new. He stayed silent, his broad frame looming in the doorway, while Rocco stepped closer.

“Damn, kid,” Rocco muttered, his voice softer now as he looked her over. “You look like hell.”

Y/n didn’t respond, her throat dry and her mind too foggy to form words. All she could do was stare at them, trying to process what was happening.

The realization hit her like a jolt. Joker. Was he okay? Did he send them to check on her? Did this mean… he was still out there? Her hands gripped the sheets beneath her tightly, desperate for answers, but too weak to demand them.

Rocco stepped closer, crouching down so his face was level with hers. His sharp features softened slightly as he took in her dishevelled state. “You’re not taking care of yourself,” he muttered, a mix of irritation and concern in his voice. “Boss wouldn’t like this. He sent us here to make sure you’re still kickin’.”

Y/n blinked slowly, her head swimming with questions, but the mention of Joker made her heart clench. Her lips moved, though no sound came out at first. She swallowed hard, wincing at the dryness in her throat before croaking, “Joker...?”

The second man, the one she didn’t recognise, stepped forward now, his arms crossed. His gaze flicked over her like he was assessing her condition. “He’s fine,” the man said curtly. “But he’s got…other things to handle right now.”

Rocco shot the man a look, clearly annoyed by his lack of tact. “What he means,” Rocco said, his tone more measured, “is that the Boss can’t exactly walk through your front door right now. So, he sent us. He wanted us to check in, make sure you’re okay, and…” He hesitated, glancing back at the other man before sighing. “...and make sure you get back on your feet.”

Y/n felt a rush of emotions, relief that Joker was alive, frustration at her own helplessness, and confusion about why these two were standing in her room like they belonged there. “How…how did you get in?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Rocco smirked faintly. “Lock wasn’t much of a challenge,” he said, jerking a thumb at the other man. “Frankie here’s got a knack for getting through doors. Don’t worry, though. We’re not here to cause trouble.”

Frankie, so that was the name of the stranger, gave a curt nod but said nothing. His presence felt imposing, but he didn’t seem hostile.

Y/n tried to sit up straighter, her body protesting with every movement. Her head swam as she forced out another question. “Why…why did he send you?”

Rocco reached over to the bedside table, grabbed her water bottle and handed it to her. “Boss cares about you, kid,” he said, his voice a little softer now. “More than you probably realise. He doesn’t like the idea of you wasting away while he’s out there handling business. Said if you don’t start taking care of yourself, he’ll have to come sort you out himself. And trust me, you don’t want that.”

Y/n took the bottle with shaky hands, her eyes wide as she processed his words. The thought of Joker sending these two to check on her, even while he was dealing with his own problems, made her chest tighten. He cared. In his own chaotic, unpredictable way, he cared.

Rocco stood up, brushing off his knees. “We’re here to help, alright? Whether you like it or not. So, drink up and get moving. Boss wouldn’t want you like this.”

Y/n hesitated, then took a small sip of the water. It was lukewarm and tasted metallic, but it was the first thing she’d managed to drink properly in days. She nodded faintly, her voice still weak but determined. “Okay.”

Rocco’s patience quickly wore thin as he watched Y/n take another feeble sip of water and sink back into the mattress. “Alright, that’s it,” he said firmly, straightening up and rolling his shoulders like he was preparing for a task he didn’t particularly enjoy. “You’re coming with us. Boss’s orders.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, panic flickering in them. “What? I can’t–” she stammered, but before she could finish, Rocco leaned down and grabbed her arm gently but insistently.

“You don’t get a say in this, sweetheart,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Boss wants you outta this bed, and that’s what’s happening.”

The other man, Frankie, sighed and moved to the other side of the bed, his expression unreadable but his stance ready to assist. “She’s not exactly in any condition to walk on her own,” he muttered.

“I can tell,” Rocco replied sharply. “That’s why we’re here. Now, up you go.” He pulled her up to a sitting position with surprising care, though his grip was unyielding. Y/n groaned, the motion making her head spin and her stomach churn.

“I can’t…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t even stand.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Rocco said as if it were the simplest solution in the world. “But you’re not staying here, wasting away. Boss ’ll have my head if we leave you like this.”

Y/n tried to protest, but before she could, Frankie slipped an arm under her knees and another around her back, lifting her effortlessly out of the bed. She gasped in surprise, her body trembling from the sudden movement.

“Don’t drop me!” she cried weakly, her hands clutching at his shirt.

Frankie scoffed. “Relax.”

Rocco opened the door, stepping out first to make sure the coast was clear. “Move it, Frankie. Let’s get her to the van.”

Frankie carried her out of the room, his movements steady but brisk. The cool air in the hallway hit her like a slap, and her already fragile state made it hard to keep her eyes open. Her head lolled against Frankie’s shoulder as they made their way outside.

The van was parked at the curb, its engine idling softly. Rocco opened the back door, gesturing for Frankie to set her down. “Easy now,” he said, his tone surprisingly soft.

Frankie carefully eased Y/n into the van’s backseat, her body slumping against the upholstery. Rocco climbed in beside her, positioning her so she wouldn’t slide around during the ride. He reached over to buckle her seatbelt, muttering, “Don’t even think about trying to wiggle out of this. Boss ’ll hear about it.”

Y/n didn’t have the energy to argue. Her head rested against the window, her body aching and weak, but somewhere deep down, a flicker of curiosity sparked through the haze of exhaustion. Where was she being taken?

-

The van rumbled to a stop in a dimly lit alleyway, the oppressive gloom of the Narrows seeping in through the windows. Y/n barely stirred, her frail body sagging against the seatbelt. Rocco turned to glance at her, his expression somewhere between irritation and concern.

“We’re here,” he muttered, unbuckling his seatbelt. Frankie was already out of the van, opening the back door and reaching in to unbuckle Y/n.

“C’mon, girl,” Frankie said, his tone gruff but not unkind. “Boss wouldn’t want you sitting out here all night.”

Y/n blinked slowly, her vision still a blur. She didn’t have the strength to protest as Frankie once again lifted her, cradling her like she weighed nothing. The cold night air nipped at her skin as they exited the van.

The building in front of them was dilapidated, its bricks cracked and stained, with faint graffiti scrawled across the lower walls. The windows glowed faintly from inside, casting eerie shadows onto the narrow street.

“An apartment?” Y/n mumbled weakly, her voice barely audible.

“Temporary safe house,” Rocco said curtly, leading the way to the door. “Boss’s orders.”

Frankie adjusted his hold on her as they climbed a narrow, creaking staircase that felt like it might give way at any moment. Y/n groaned softly, her head lolling against Frankie’s chest. The exhaustion in her body made the journey feel endless, each step rattling through her fragile frame.

On the third floor, Rocco stopped in front of a battered door with peeling paint. He fished out a key, unlocking it with a click before pushing it open. The apartment inside was sparse but clean enough, furnished with the basics, a couch, a small table, a kitchenette, and a bed tucked into the corner of the single room.

Frankie carried Y/n inside, laying her carefully on the couch. She let out a faint sigh of relief as her body sank into the mattress, her muscles aching from the short journey. Rocco lingered near the door, crossing his arms as he surveyed the room.

“Not exactly five-star,” Rocco said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. “But it’ll do.”

“Boss said to keep her here and make sure she eats something,” Frankie said, stepping back and stretching his arms. “She looks like she’s about to keel over.”

“Yeah, well, she’s been like that for days, hasn’t she?” Rocco grumbled. “I’ll have a look. Can’t let her starve.”

As Y/n lay on the couch, barely able to keep her eyes open, a thought began to gnaw at the back of her mind. She hadn’t fully processed it before, but now, with Rocco and Frankie’s casual conversation, it became clear.

They were talking about him, Joker, like he was still calling the shots, like he was still in control, even though he was locked up and under 24/7 security. Her heart skipped a beat, a mixture of confusion and curiosity flooding her veins.

The implications of it all settled in her chest, heavy and unsettling. How were they in contact with him? Was he somehow orchestrating everything from behind bars? Was he pulling the strings while locked away, unable to move?

She tried to sit up, her body protesting the movement as if the world around her was spinning. The dizziness from the exertion made her head throb. She let out a shaky breath, trying to focus as she reached for the water bottle beside her. Her fingers trembled as she unscrewed the cap, the cold liquid soothing her parched throat. But the question remained.

How is he still in control? she thought, her mind racing. She hadn’t heard anything about Joker’s escape, nor did it make sense that he could have any influence from inside a high-security facility. So how? How were his goons able to move so freely?

She glanced over at Frankie and Rocco. They didn’t seem concerned, almost like it was business as usual. Rocco was leaning against the wall, checking his phone, and Frankie was off to the side, inspecting the small kitchenette. Neither of them gave any indication that they were afraid or worried about Joker's imprisonment.

Y/n felt a pit in her stomach. Was he that powerful, even locked up? She didn’t know what to believe anymore. The whole situation felt surreal like being stuck in a bad dream.

“He’s always had a plan,” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. "He always has a way."

The weight of the situation settled deeper into her chest as she realized that Joker was always three steps ahead. Even now, even when everything seemed to be falling apart, Joker had found a way to keep his reach, his control, intact.

But how much longer could he stay in control from inside a cell? How much longer before something broke? Before she broke?

She closed her eyes, trying to push the fear away, but it lingered. It always did when it came to him.

Rocco reappeared from the kitchen, holding a paper bag that crinkled loudly as he walked toward her. He tossed it onto the table with a heavy thud, then turned back to the cabinets, muttering something to Frankie under his breath. Frankie came over to the couch and crouched in front of Y/n, his gruff face softening just a bit.

“You need to eat, girl. You’re lookin’ worse than a dead man,” he said, pulling out a plastic-wrapped sandwich and a juice box from the bag.

Y/n blinked at the items as if they were foreign. It had been days since she’d eaten anything substantial, and the idea of food felt distant, almost abstract. Still, Frankie didn’t give her much choice.

“Come on,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. He unwrapped the sandwich for her and held it out. “A few bites, at least. You’re no good to anyone like this.”

Her stomach churned at the thought, but she nodded weakly. With trembling hands, she took the sandwich from him and managed a small bite. The dry bread felt foreign against her tongue, and the first swallow was like pushing a rock down her throat. But then the second bite came easier, and the third after that.

Rocco turned back around, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in his hand. “Gotta admit, didn’t expect you to be this far gone,” he said bluntly.

Frankie shot him a warning glare, but Rocco shrugged. “What? She looks like she’s been through hell.”

“She’s been through enough,” Frankie snapped, his voice lower this time. “Just shut up and let her eat.”

Y/n barely registered the exchange, too focused on the sandwich and the juice box that Frankie had handed her. The sweetness of the juice was a shock to her system, waking her up a little more as it soothed her dry throat.

“Better?” Frankie asked after a moment.

Y/n nodded faintly. “Thanks,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

“Good,” Rocco said, moving closer to the couch. He placed a bottle of water on the table beside her.

“You’ll need your strength. Don’t know what’s comin’ next, but Boss wouldn’t be happy seeing you like this.” Hearing that sent a pang through her chest. Joker.

Even when he wasn’t there, his shadow loomed large, dictating their actions. And here he was, using that power for her. Joker’s influence reached her even now, in her lowest state, orchestrating everything from behind the scenes. As unsettling as it was, a small part of her, a part she didn’t fully understand, felt comforted by it.

-

Y/n lay curled up on the worn couch, her body trembling despite the cheap oil heater buzzing weakly beside her. The warmth it offered was pitiful, barely taking the edge off the icy chill that had settled into her bones. Her skin felt clammy, her breaths uneven, and her forehead was hot to the touch. She was clearly feverish, and even in her half-conscious state, she could feel how badly her body was struggling to fight off the fatigue.

Frankie paced back and forth, running a hand through his greying hair. “She’s shivering like a damn leaf,” he muttered, glancing nervously at Rocco. “What the hell are we supposed to do? I don’t know nothin’ about takin’ care of a sick person!”

Rocco sat slumped in a chair at the dining table, his arms crossed. “What do I look like, a nurse?” he snapped, his frustration barely contained.

He glanced over at Y/n, her frail form looking smaller than ever under the thin blanket draped over her. He let out a long sigh and stood. “Alright, let’s think. Fever, right? You’re supposed to–uh–what? Cool her down? Or warm her up?”

Frankie rolled his eyes. “Both? Neither? Hell if I know! You think I went to med school?” He rubbed at his face, muttering under his breath, “Boss didn’t say nothin’ about this kind of situation.”

Rocco grumbled and approached the couch, peering down at Y/n like she was some fragile, alien creature.

“She’s shakin’ like crazy,” he said, pulling the blanket tighter around her. “What if we just...I dunno...get more blankets? Or turn the heater up?”

He leaned down and gave the old oil heater a hard smack, but it didn’t do much besides rattle noisily. “Piece of shit,” he muttered.

“More blankets?” Frankie echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, great plan, genius. You wanna bury her in a mountain of old fabric and hope for the best? Real top-tier care there, Dr. Rocco.”

He shook his head and started rummaging through the cabinets, clearly searching for something that might help. “Maybe there’s medicine or some kinda first aid kit around here,” he said, opening drawers with loud thuds.

Rocco scowled but didn’t argue. Instead, he grabbed a glass, filled it with water from the sink, and brought it back to the couch. He crouched down beside Y/n, nudging her shoulder gently.

“Hey, girl,” he said awkwardly, his gruffness giving way to something softer. “You gotta drink some water. Can’t let you keel over on us, alright?”

Y/n groaned faintly, her eyes fluttering open just enough to see Rocco’s concerned face hovering above her. “Can’t...move,” she mumbled, her voice weak and barely audible.

Frankie returned, holding up a bottle of aspirin triumphantly. “Found somethin’! Says it’s for fevers,” he declared.

Then he frowned, looking at the label. “Uh...how much do you give someone? One pill? Two?”

“Well, what does the box say?” Rocco grunted.

“I don’t know, the instructions have been worn off,” Frankie said, squinting at the box.

“Just give her one to start. We don’t need to knock her out cold.” He turned back to Y/n and gently pressed the glass to her lips. “Come on, drink,” he coaxed. “It’s just water.”

With effort, Y/n managed a small sip, though most of the water dribbled down her chin. Frankie handed over the aspirin, and Rocco awkwardly placed it in her mouth, tipping the glass again to help her swallow.

When she finally did, Frankie let out a relieved sigh. “Okay, good. That’s somethin’, at least.”

But the two men were clearly out of their depth, and it showed. They stood by the couch like sentries, unsure of their next move.

Frankie scratched his head, mumbling, “We need someone who actually knows what the hell they’re doin’. This ain’t our thing, man.”

Rocco nodded, his usual bravado replaced with a rare flicker of worry. “Yeah, well, until then, we keep her alive. Boss would kill us if somethin’ happened to her.”

He glanced at Y/n, who had already slipped back into a restless sleep. Her shivering continued, even with their clumsy attempts to help. “We gotta figure this out,” he muttered.

Y/n stirred on the couch, her face scrunched up. Frankie, who had been pacing near the window, noticed immediately and groaned.

“Now what?” he asked, throwing his hands in the air.

Y/n grimaced again, her lips twisting in discomfort. “That aspirin…” she murmured, her voice hoarse. “Tasted...weird. Like...really weird.” She made a faint gagging noise and stuck out her tongue, clearly unhappy with whatever lingering aftertaste it left behind.

Frankie narrowed his eyes and turned to Rocco, who was leaning against the wall. “What the hell does she mean, ‘tasted weird’? You gave her somethin’ bad?”

Rocco straightened up, looking offended. “I didn’t make the damn pills, Frankie! I just gave her what you found!”

Frankie stomped over to the kitchen counter where the small box of aspirin sat. Snatching it up, he squinted at the faded label.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” he muttered. “This thing’s...expired! Look at this! Says it went bad two years ago!” He turned the box toward Rocco, jabbing at the tiny print with his finger.

Rocco groaned, running a hand down his face. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me,” he muttered. “Who keeps expired meds in their place? Like, throw it out already!”

“Apparently these guys don’t care about restocking the essentials,” Frankie shot back. He threw the box onto the counter with a loud thud. “And now we probably poisoned her on top of everything else!”

“Relax, Frankie,” Rocco said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced himself. “What’s the worst expired aspirin can do? Lose some of its kick? She ain’t foamin’ at the mouth or anything, is she?”

Y/n, still curled on the couch, managed a weak glare at the two men. “You guys…are terrible at this,” she mumbled.

Frankie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, we get it. We suck at playin’ nursemaids. But cut us some slack, huh? This ain’t exactly what we signed up for when joining Joker’s gang.”

Rocco shook his head, muttering under his breath. “Great. Boss is gonna love hearin’ we gave his girl bad pills. Just perfect.”

Y/n, too tired to engage further, closed her eyes and tried to ignore the bitter taste still lingering in her mouth.

Frankie and Rocco exchanged an exasperated look before Frankie finally grumbled, “Alright, that’s it. No more meds until we double-check this crap. I ain’t takin’ any more chances.”

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that,” Rocco muttered, though the jab lacked its usual bite.

-

Frankie and Rocco stood awkwardly around Y/n, who had drifted back into an uneasy rest on the couch.

Frankie pulled out his phone, scrolling rapidly. “Alright, lemme just Google this fever crap. Can’t be that hard, right?”

Rocco leaned over his shoulder, squinting at the screen. “What’s it say?”

“Uh…” Frankie squinted, reading aloud. “‘Keep them hydrated, plenty of water.’” He gestured at the half-empty glass on the coffee table. “Nailed that one already.”

“Barely,” Rocco muttered, rolling his eyes.

Frankie ignored him and kept reading. “‘Medications to reduce fever.’” He immediately grimaced and shoved his phone in his pocket. “Yeah, no. We ain’t doin’ that shit again.”

“Definitely not,” Rocco agreed, glaring briefly at the expired aspirin box still sitting on the counter.

Frankie pulled his phone back out, tapping on a new link. “Okay, here’s a blog post...‘hot soups help.’ See? We’re getting somewhere!”

Rocco folded his arms, unimpressed. “Hot soup, huh? What’re we supposed to do, whip that up in this dump?”

Frankie snapped his fingers. “Hold up! I saw some canned soup in the cupboard earlier. Gimme a second.”

He shuffled into the kitchen, rummaging through a cabinet, and emerged triumphantly holding a dusty can of chicken noodle soup. “Jackpot!”

Rocco pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Frankie, that thing looks older than the aspirin. You’re not feeding her that.”

“It’s soup! It’s basically immortal,” Frankie argued, waving the can around.

“No,” Rocco said firmly. “You’re not risking Boss’s girl on canned science experiments. Get your ass to the store and buy her some fresh stuff.”

Frankie groaned. “Man, come on! The store’s, like, five blocks away!”

“And?” Rocco crossed his arms, his glare cutting. “Go. And don’t come back with anything cheap.”

Muttering under his breath, Frankie grabbed his coat and stormed toward the door. “This is ridiculous. First a nurse, now a delivery guy. What’s next, a fuckin’ florist?”

Rocco just waved him off, turning back to check on Y/n as Frankie disappeared into the hallway.

Rocco sat down heavily on the chair opposite Y/n, watching her shiver even under the blanket draped over her.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

Y/n stirred slightly, cracking her eyes open. She looked at him, her expression groggy and confused.

“Where’d he go?” she croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rocco leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Frankie’s gone to grab you some real food. Something to help with the fever.”

Y/n gave a weak nod, closing her eyes again. “Thanks…” The room fell silent except for the faint hum of the oil heater struggling to warm the space.

Rocco glanced at it, frowning. “Piece of junk,” he muttered, standing up to adjust the settings. When it didn’t do much, he huffed in frustration.

-

The door creaked open quietly, and Frankie slipped inside, juggling several heavy grocery bags. Y/n was finally asleep on the couch, bundled up in blankets. Rocco, who had been sitting nearby and keeping watch, stood up and stalked over, his brows furrowed at the sight of the bulging bags.

“What the hell is all this shit?” Rocco hissed, gesturing toward the bags as he took a couple to lighten the load.

Frankie scowled, kicking the door shut behind him. “I don’t know, man. I went to grab some canned soup like you said, but some old lady saw me standing there and decided to get involved.”

Rocco raised a brow. “What do you mean, ‘got involved’?”

Frankie set the bags down on the counter with a grunt. “She started giving me a lecture about how canned soup isn’t good enough for someone sick, then walked me around the store grabbing vegetables and spices and crap. Kept saying, ‘Make her a proper soup.’ I don’t even know what the hell that means!”

Rocco stared at him, then at the bags now spilling over with carrots, celery, onions, and random herbs. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh. “You mean to tell me, instead of just heating up a can, we now gotta make soup from scratch?”

Frankie shrugged helplessly. “Apparently. Look, she was scary, okay? You try saying no to someone’s grandma when she’s lecturing you in the middle of the store.”

Rocco jaw hung open, looking at Frankie. “You have a gun..you’re 6 foot fucking something…and some little old lady scared you into making soup..”

“Hey man, I ain’t never gon’ mess with an old lady…besides, she had a heart of gold,” Frankie pouted, looking absolutely ridiculous.

Rocco muttered a string of curses under his breath as he started unpacking the bags. “Great. Just great. Now we’re chefs.”

“Hey, you’re the one who said to get her the good stuff,” Frankie shot back, grabbing a knife and a cutting board. “Guess this is what the good stuff looks like.”

Rocco glared at the pile of ingredients like it had personally offended him. “Fine. Let’s get this over with. But if you screw this up, you’re eating it.”

Together, they fumbled their way through prepping the vegetables, with a hastily Googled recipe on Frankie’s phone that neither of them could agree on.

“This one says dice the carrots, but what the hell is a dice? Like cubes?” Frankie squinted at the screen.

“Cubes? What are we, making toys? Just chop the damn things,” Rocco shot back, already wielding a knife like it was a weapon. He hacked at an onion, the uneven pieces scattering across the cutting board.

Frankie grabbed a stalk of celery, holding it whole above the pot. “Do you think we can just throw these in as is? I mean, they’ll, like…dissolve, right?”

Rocco stared at him in horror and swatted the celery out of his hands. “What the hell are you doing? You can’t just chuck that in like a log! Cut it into pieces!”

“Okay, okay, relax,” Frankie grumbled, fumbling for the knife and hacking at the celery with no regard for uniformity.

Rocco groaned, snatching the knife from him. “That’s not cutting, that’s mangling. You’re lucky she’s too sick to care what this looks like.”

It took twice as long as it should have, with constant interruptions of “Is this small enough?” and “Are you sure that goes in the pot?”

Eventually, they managed to get all the vegetables chopped into vaguely even pieces. By the time they added everything to the pot, they were both sweating and grumbling.

Frankie stirred the mixture triumphantly. “Alright, that wasn’t so bad.”

Rocco glanced over his shoulder at the recipe still open on the phone. His face fell. “You idiot. Did you even read the part where it says this has to simmer for two hours?”

Frankie froze, spoon in hand. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Two hours. Minimum.” Rocco threw his hands in the air. “We’re gonna be here all night.”

Frankie groaned, slumping against the counter. “How does anyone have the patience for this? I should’ve just stuck with the canned stuff.”

“Yeah, but now we’re committed,” Rocco grumbled, crossing his arms.

He eyed the bubbling pot, already dreading the wait. Despite their frustrations, neither of them said it out loud, but they both felt a little satisfaction in knowing they’d gone the extra mile. After all, they weren’t doing this for themselves.

-

The soup had finally been left to simmer, and the two men sat at the small table in the corner of the apartment, exhausted from their makeshift cooking adventure. Rocco had his arms crossed, leaning back in the chair, while Frankie tapped his fingers against the table impatiently.

“How long’s it been?” Frankie asked.

“Fifteen minutes.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope.”

Frankie groaned and leaned forward, resting his head on the table. “We should’ve just bought one of those instant soups. Heat it, serve it, done. Why did I listen to some random old lady?”

Rocco shot him a look. “Because you don’t have a spine, Frankie.”

The soft sound of mumbling caught their attention, and they both turned toward the couch. Y/n was stirring, her eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again. She shifted slightly, curling up tighter under the blanket.

“Think she’s gonna wake up?” Frankie whispered.

“Not if we’re lucky,” Rocco replied, though his gaze lingered on her pale face, still marked with exhaustion.

A faint bubbling noise came from the kitchen, and Frankie bolted up. “Crap, is it boiling over?”

They rushed to the pot like a couple of amateur chefs, Frankie grabbing the spoon to stir while Rocco adjusted the heat.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Rocco muttered, glaring at the pot as if daring it to betray them.

Frankie stirred a few more times before stepping back, looking genuinely relieved. “Okay, I think we’ve got it under control. Now what?”

“Now we wait. Again,” Rocco said, rubbing his face. He glanced toward the couch. “She’s still out, so at least we don’t have to explain why the kitchen smells like…well…that.”

“Yeah yeah,” Frankie muttered, leaning against the counter.

The hours dragged on as the soup slowly came together. They took turns checking the pot and whispering arguments about whether it needed more salt or if the vegetables were soft enough. It wasn’t exactly gourmet cooking, but by the time the two hours were up, the apartment smelled surprisingly good.

Frankie grabbed a spoon and tasted it, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Hey, it’s…not bad. I mean, it’s edible.”

“Edible isn’t exactly a ringing endorsement,” Rocco muttered, but he grabbed a spoon and took a taste as well.

He frowned, then nodded reluctantly. “Alright, it’s decent. Let’s see if she can actually eat it.”

They carefully ladled the soup into a bowl, Rocco holding it steady while Frankie grabbed a spoon. As they approached Y/n, still curled up on the couch, Frankie nudged her shoulder gently.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Wake up, we’ve got something for you.”

Y/n stirred, her tired eyes blinking open. She looked up at them groggily, her voice barely above a whisper. “What…is it?”

“Homemade soup,” Rocco said, setting the bowl on the small table next to her. “Don’t ask how we made it, just eat it.”

Y/n stared at the bowl suspiciously, then looked up at them. “You made this?”

“Yeah, and it took forever, so you better appreciate it,” Frankie grumbled, but there was a hint of pride in his voice.

With their help, she sat up slowly and took the bowl into her hands. The warmth of the soup felt comforting, and as she took a small sip, her eyes widened slightly. “It’s…good.”

Rocco and Frankie exchanged a look, both pretending to shrug it off, but the relief on their faces was unmistakable.

“Damn right, it is,” Frankie said, pulling a chair over to sit nearby. “Now eat up. We’re not going through that again anytime soon.”

Despite her exhaustion, Y/n managed a faint smile as she took another sip. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel quite so terrible.

As Y/n slowly worked her way through the bowl of soup, the two men hovered nearby, pretending to busy themselves but clearly watching her every move. Frankie leaned against the counter, tossing a dishrag between his hands, while Rocco pretended to scroll through his phone.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” Y/n muttered, her voice still raspy but carrying a faint note of amusement.

Frankie snorted. “Babysitting implies we actually know what we’re doing. This is more like damage control.”

Rocco smirked but didn’t look up. “Just eat. You’ve looked like a ghost for days, and it’s freaking me out.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but continued eating. The soup wasn’t just warm, it felt like it was slowly pulling her back from the brink. Despite their clumsy efforts, the two had managed to create something that didn’t just fill her stomach but soothed her.

When she finished, she set the bowl down on the table and leaned back against the couch cushions. “Thanks,” she said softly, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Don’t mention it,” Frankie said, quickly grabbing the bowl and heading to the kitchen.

Rocco sat down in the chair across from her, his arms resting on his knees. He studied her for a moment before speaking. “You’ve gotta start taking better care of yourself, you know that, right?”

Y/n cracked an eye open and gave him a weak glare. “Kinda hard when you feel like shit all the time.”

“Yeah, well, feeling like shit isn’t gonna stop the boss from tearing into us if something happens to you,” Rocco muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

The mention of Joker made her heart skip a beat, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she closed her eyes again, letting the warmth of the soup settle over her like a blanket.

Frankie returned from the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. “Alright, since you’re fed, it’s bedtime. Doctor Google says rest is key or whatever.”

“Doctor Google?” Y/n mumbled, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah, and don’t laugh. It’s the only medical degree we’ve got around here,” Frankie shot back, tossing the towel onto the counter.

Rocco stood up, stretching. “He’s right, though. You need to sleep. We’ll be here, so don’t worry about anything, alright?”

Y/n opened her eyes briefly, glancing between the two. Despite their gruff attitudes and questionable bedside manners, she could tell they were genuinely trying to help.

“Alright,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Frankie grabbed an extra blanket from a nearby chair and draped it over her as she curled up on the couch. Rocco turned the heater up a notch, muttering something about the drafty apartment.

As they settled into their makeshift positions, Frankie lounging in the armchair and Rocco leaning against the wall, Y/n let herself drift off, the sound of their quiet banter lulling her to sleep.

For the first time in days, she didn’t feel entirely alone.

-

Rocco had just settled back into the creaky chair, giving Frankie a side-eye as he scrolled through his phone. The apartment felt oddly quiet for once, with Y/n asleep on the couch and the sound of the heater humming in the background.

But the silence was shattered when Rocco's phone rang, cutting through the stillness. He stared at the screen, confused by the number.

"Who the hell..." he muttered, before swiping the screen to answer. "Yeah?"

There was a brief moment of silence, then a familiar voice came through the phone, rough and slightly distorted, as if coming from a distance. "Rocco."

Rocco froze, eyes widening. His grip tightened around the phone. "Boss? Is that you?"

A low grunt came from the other end, the voice now unmistakable. “No, it’s Santa. Give the phone to her.”

Without wasting another second, he pushed himself out of the chair, walking over to Y/n, who was lying on the couch, her breathing slow and steady in deep sleep. He hesitated for a moment, looking at her peaceful face before shaking her gently.

“Hey, wake up. Phone’s for you,” Rocco said, his voice low.

Y/n groaned softly, stirring under the blanket, her eyelids fluttering open but still heavy with sleep.

“Mmhmm?” she mumbled, barely registering what he said, her voice thick with drowsiness.

“Take the phone,” Rocco said, pressing the phone into her hand with a small, apologetic smile.

Y/n’s eyes, still foggy with sleep, took a moment to process his words. But when she heard the familiar voice come through the phone, her heart skipped a beat.

“Hey, Bunny.”

Her eyes shot wide open at the sound of his voice, disbelief and relief flooding through her all at once. "J!" she gasped, sitting up quickly despite the remnants of sleep dragging at her.

“That’s right, Bunny.” Joker’s voice came through low, almost muffled. “Now, listen. I don’t have much time, so don’t say anything that’ll get you in trouble. No names, no details. Just keep it simple.”

“Okay...” Y/n whispered, almost in disbelief that she was hearing him. Her pulse raced in her chest.

“How you holding up? They uh..treating you okay?” Joker’s voice was rough, but there was an unmistakable thread of concern woven in, something that made her heart swell.

Y/n paused for a moment, her thoughts racing. “Yes, they’re keeping me good...I had food, water, and sleep,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, not wanting to worry him any more than he already might be.

“They feed you?” Joker repeated, his disbelief clear.

“Mhmm.” Y/n nodded even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

"And you lived?" Joker’s voice became incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“It was really good, actually! I swear!" Y/n chuckled softly, her mood lightening just hearing his voice, even if it was through a phone call. "I don't know what the hell they did, but it was, like...homemade soup or something.”

There was a pause on the other end. “Homemade soup?” Joker’s voice was tinged with amusement. “Jesus Christ, Bunny, what the hell’s going on over there?”

Y/n laughed again, feeling a little lighter as the conversation continued. She couldn’t believe how badly she’d missed him, how much she needed to hear his voice. Even with all the danger and chaos swirling around them, this small moment made everything feel somewhat normal again.

“What have you been doing, Bunny, hmm?” Joker’s voice dropped an accusatory tone, his words sharp yet tinged with concern. “Cause you ain’t been taking care of yourself.”

Y/n winced, guilt bubbling in her chest. “I know…I just haven’t been feeling great,” she muttered, her words barely escaping her lips.

“That’s no excuse to not look after yourself,” Joker snapped, though his voice softened quickly after, as if trying to hide the edge of frustration.

Y/n’s shoulders slumped, the weight of his words sinking in. “I understand…” She paused, looking down at the blanket wrapped around her, picking at the fibers.

“How is everything there?” she asked, wanting to divert the conversation away from her.

“How you’d expect a police station to be like,” Joker replied with a nonchalant chuckle, as if it was just another ordinary day. “No worries, Doll, I’m a frequent flyer here. They’ll ask me questions until they get tired, then send me right back off to Arkham.”

Y/n’s stomach twisted at the mention of Arkham. “What?” Her voice cracked, fear creeping into her chest.

“Don’t worry about it, Bunny,” Joker reassured, his tone light despite the underlying danger of his words. “I’ll be out before that happens.” He let out a chuckle, like it was all just a game, but it did little to ease the knot in Y/n’s stomach.

Her mind raced, trying to grasp the weight of what he was saying, but it didn’t add up. How could he sound so calm about all of this?

“What else is going on?” she asked, forcing her voice to stay steady.

“Well, they keep asking about your car,” Joker said, the amusement slipping into his voice again.

“They just won’t believe me when I tell them the car’s not being used for some heist or whatever, but my dear Bunny’s.” He lingered on the words, a playful hint beneath his serious tone. “They think I’m some kind of Joker.”

Y/n chuckled nervously, though it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Well, from their point of view, I get it,” she said, rubbing her temple in a half-hearted attempt to ease the headache that had been gnawing at her for days.

In the background of the call, Y/n could hear a voice growling from a distance. "Okay, that's enough phone time for you!"

"Ooh, looks like the coppers want me," Joker's voice rang through the phone, still light-hearted despite the gravity of the situation. "Take care of yourself, Bunny. Get Frankie to go buy you an ice cream, you deserve it."

Y/n’s heart sank a little, knowing the call was ending. “Okay, bye J…” she murmured softly, a twinge of sadness in her voice as she reluctantly let go of the connection.

“Mwah!” Joker’s voice perked up, the sound of a kiss sent through the phone before the line clicked dead.

Y/n stared at the phone in her hand for a moment, her chest heavy. She handed it back to Rocco without saying another word, her gaze wandering over to Frankie, who had been quietly watching her.

“Joker said you have to go get me an ice cream,” she said, almost sheepishly.

Frankie blinked, eyes wide in disbelief. “Come on!” he groaned, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m ain’t your personal ice cream runner, you know that?”

Y/n let out a soft chuckle despite herself, the weight of the situation lightening just a little bit. “He said I deserve it,” she insisted, giving him a small, playful look.

Rocco snorted in the background, clearly trying to hide his own amusement, but Frankie just shook his head, clearly not amused by the sudden ice cream errand he was apparently now obligated to run.

“Fine,” Frankie muttered, clearly out of options, “But only ‘cause boss said so.” He turned towards the door, grabbing his jacket. "Don't expect me to get you anything fancy."

Frankie stormed out of the apartment with a grumble, muttering about how he was too old for this kind of nonsense. Y/n couldn't help but smile a little, even though the sadness still lingered in the pit of her stomach.

Rocco leaned against the counter, arms crossed as he observed her. "You good?" he asked, his tone soft but concerned.

Y/n nodded slowly, though she wasn’t sure how convincing it was. "I will be," she said, her voice quieter than she intended.

"Just…it’s hard, you know? Hearing his voice and then having to hang up." She paused, looking at the door where Frankie had just left. "I just feel…I don’t know. Like I’m just waiting for something to happen."

Rocco gave a nod, his expression unreadable. "I get it. But he’s not gonna let them keep him for long. You know how the Boss is." He seemed to try lighten the mood.

Y/n sighed, leaning back against the couch, wrapping her arms around herself. "I hope you're right," she murmured.

She closed her eyes, trying to push the thoughts of Joker being locked up, of everything that might go wrong, out of her mind.

After a few moments of silence, Rocco sighed and walked over to the window. "You need to rest. Frankie will be back soon, and when he gets back, you can get some real sleep. We’ve got you covered here."

Y/n didn’t argue. The exhaustion was creeping back in, and the warmth of the couch was almost too inviting. "Yeah," she whispered, sinking further into the cushions, "maybe just for a little while."

Wasn’t long till Frankie finally returned, looking both annoyed and tired, two containers of ice cream in his hands.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, placing the tubs on the coffee table with a huff. "Ice cream, just like the Boss ordered."

Y/n blinked, her exhaustion making her movements sluggish as she looked at the ice cream. "Thanks," she said quietly, trying to muster up a smile, though still tired. "I didn’t think you’d actually do it. But…why do you have two?"

“Like hell I’m gonna do all this work without reward,” Frankie said, lounging back while opening his tub of ice cream.

"Alright, you two. Eat your ice cream, then you get back to sleep." Rocco said, pointing at Y/n.

Y/n finally allowed herself a tiny laugh, something genuine this time, as she took a spoonful of the ice cream. It wasn’t much, but for now, it was enough.

-

It had been only a few hours since Y/n had finished the ice cream and drifted into sleep. The apartment was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that settles in before something disruptive happens. Suddenly, the front door burst open with a thunderous crash, slamming against the wall so hard that it rattled the cheap picture frames hanging nearby.

Y/n jolted awake, heart racing as she instinctively sat up on the couch. Disoriented and still half-asleep, she blinked at the doorway, trying to process what was happening.

“What the hell?” she muttered, her voice hoarse from exhaustion and lingering sickness.

Standing in the doorway, framed by the dim hallway light, was the one and only Joker. His grin stretched wide, his green hair slightly disheveled, and his eyes sparkling with chaotic energy. He threw his arms out, as if putting on a grand show for an audience of one.

“Ta-da!” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with that unnerving mix of charm and madness.

Y/n blinked again, certain she was either dreaming or hallucinating. “J?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

Joker’s grin widened as he sauntered into the apartment. “In…the…flesh, Bunny,” he said, spreading his arms wide before giving a mock bow. “Miss me?”

Rocco and Frankie stumbled out of the kitchen, both looking like they’d seen a ghost. “Boss?!” Rocco exclaimed, his voice cracking. “How the hell did you–”

“Details, details!” Joker interrupted, waving a gloved hand dismissively. “Do I look like a man who lets a little thing like prison keep him down?”

He spun on his heel to face Y/n again, his expression softening just a fraction. “But you, Bunny…you’ve been naughty.”

Y/n stared at him, still trying to wrap her head around his sudden appearance. “How are you here…?” she started, but her words trailed off as he strode over to her, crouching down so they were at eye level.

“Now, now,” Joker said, tilting his head as he studied her sickly face. “We’ll get to that later. First, we need to talk about you. You look like you’ve been run over by a bus, Bunny. Frankie and Rocco been slacking on their uh…babysitting duties?” He shot the two men a glare over his shoulder, making them both stiffen.

“Hey, we’ve been taking care of her!” Frankie protested, gesturing toward the empty ice cream container on the coffee table. “She ate, she rested, we even made soup!”

“Soup.” Joker repeated, raising an eyebrow. “My Bunny eating your soup. Yeah, I heard about that little endeavour.” He turned back to Y/n, his gloved hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But still, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

Y/n felt her throat tighten as she looked into his intense gaze. “J, I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker leaned in closer, his grin turning devilish. “Bunny, I told you before. I’m gonna come back for you.”

Y/n didn’t have time to process Joker’s words before he stood up, his energy buzzing like static in the room. He clapped his hands together, making both Rocco and Frankie flinch.

“Alright, boys, let’s have a chat,” he said, his tone shifting from playful to commanding. “What’s the state of this little hideout? Security tight? Supplies stocked? Or have you two been playing house while my Bunny’s been rotting away?”

Frankie looked at Rocco, who reluctantly spoke up. “We’ve done everything you asked, boss. She’s been fed, rested, and kept safe. No one’s sniffing around. We’re good.”

“Safe,” Joker repeated, his tone skeptical as he paced the room. “And yet my Bunny looks like she’s one sneeze away from passing out again. Safe doesn’t mean a damn thing if she’s not healthy.” He whipped around to face them, his eyes blazing. “So, what’s the plan, hmm? How are you two fixing this?”

“We’ve been doing what we can!” Frankie interjected. “Soup, meds, ice cream, what else are we supposed to do?”

Joker laughed, the sound sharp and grating. “Oh, Frankie, Frankie, Frankie…You don’t fix her with ice cream and soup. You fix her by making sure she never gets like this in the first place!”

He pointed at Y/n, who was watching the exchange in stunned silence. “You let her get sick, and that’s the problem.”

Y/n finally found her voice. “J, stop,” she said, her tone firm despite the exhaustion weighing her down. “They’ve been taking care of me. It’s not their fault.”

Joker’s gaze snapped back to her, his expression softening slightly. “Defending the little guys, huh, Bunny?” He crouched down again, his gloved hand resting lightly on her knee. “But you’ve gotta take care of yourself too. Can’t have my Bunny falling apart on me.”

“I’m trying,” Y/n said quietly, her cheeks flushing under his intense gaze.

Joker straightened up, his manic grin returning. “Good. Because I didn’t bust out of that hellhole just to find you looking like an inch away from death.”

He turned to Rocco and Frankie. “You two, make yourselves useful. Get this place cleaned up, get some decent food stocked, and find a real doctor. None of this DIY crap.”

“Doctor?” Frankie repeated, wide-eyed. “How are we supposed to–”

Joker silenced him with a glare. “Figure it out. Or do I need to babysit you, too?”

The two men exchanged a nervous glance before scurrying off, muttering plans under their breath.

Joker turned back to Y/n, his expression unreadable. “Now, Bunny, let’s get you feeling better. And then…” His grin widened, full of dangerous promises. “We’ve got work to do.”

The apartment settled into an odd rhythm. Rocco was scrubbing dishes in the kitchen, muttering complaints about how Frankie always left things half-cleaned. Frankie lounged on the couch, flipping through channels, just waiting to jump up if Joker barked an order. Y/n, wrapped in a blanket, sat on a chair by the window, her fever finally subsiding.

Joker was at the table, sketching out something on a crumpled napkin, his gloved fingers moving with quick precision as he muttered half-formed plans to himself.

It felt oddly normal, like a strange little family of sorts. The heater hummed faintly in the corner, its warmth mixing with the faint scent of leftover soup lingering in the air. Every now and then, Joker would glance up at Y/n, his gaze softening before snapping back to his frantic scribbling.

But outside, across the street, perched on the rooftop of a rundown building, someone was watching. The figure was cloaked in shadows, blending seamlessly with the dark sky. Through binoculars, the scene inside the apartment unfolded in perfect clarity.

The faint glow of the heater, the flickering light from the TV, and the exaggerated gestures of Joker as he spoke animatedly to himself, all of it was observed in meticulous silence.

The man adjusted his grip, the faint outline of a gloved hand catching a stray glint of moonlight. A gust of wind ruffled the long edges of their cape, but they remained unmoving, a silent sentinel above the chaos below.

Their focus lingered on Y/n, her eyes closed as she slept on the run down couch. Then it shifted to Joker, who leaned back in his chair, throwing a mocking laugh toward Frankie.

A voice crackled softly in his earpiece, almost inaudible against the city’s distant hum. “Are you going to move in, sir?”

The man’s jaw tightened. No response.

His gaze returned to Joker, whose grin widened as he shoved his napkin sketch across the table for Rocco to examine. The man’s grip on the binoculars tightened, his shadowed silhouette growing even stiller, waiting for the right moment to strike.

-

A/N: Yep, very much on the shorter side, but got through it, lol.

I enjoyed writing this one, it was a little fun on to write for me, just Y/n getting treated by Joker's incompetent goons

Hopefully it will pick up in the next chapter (considering how I ended this one 👀)

Thank you for reading 💚

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Daddy Lessons 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron’s, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You slap your hand around Rafe’s wrist, panic surging in your throat. You can’t breathe. You bring your other hand up as you turn in the seat, trying to dislodge his grip as he squeezes tighter. So tight, you feel your eyes bulging.

You smack his shoulder desperately as tears fill the brims of your eyes and the chair tilts with your struggle. He lets you go as you wrench back and topple off the seat completely. Your back hits the floor and knocks the wind out of you a second time.

You wheeze and cough as your throat burns. Rafe chuckles as you hear the pages flutter and he throws the textbook. It lands on your stomach and you groan.

“Tell you what, dork, whatever my dad’s paying you to ‘teach’ me,” he puts a special lilt on teach, “I’ll pay you double to shut the fuck up. You sit there, do whatever it is nerds do and I’ll be on my phone.”

He kicks the chair as he gets up and stomps around the table. He resumes his seat on the other side as you sit up. He swipes his phone into his hand and goes back to flicking the screen with his thumb. You get up silently, holding back another wave of tears as you try not to shake. 

You pick up the book and bring the chair straight. You lower yourself onto the seat and put the textbook beside your laptop. You stare at the screen but can’t read the font. You’re terrified.

All those years, you saw Rafe swaggering down the halls, calling kids names, pushing the nerdiest of the punch into lockers, but he’d never hit a girl. Not openly, though he never had a problem bashing any boy smaller than him.

“If you’re gonna cry, keep it down,” he snickers, “you’re not hot enough for that.”

You blink and stare at the screen. What do you do? Pack up and go? Tell Ward it’s not going to work out. He’ll be disappointed but he can afford someone who wasn’t a former victim of his son’s high school foliies.

You close the laptop and grab your bag, tucking it inside quietly. You’ll just have to break the news to your parents. You’re unemployed, again. That didn’t last long. You hook your knapsack over your shoulder and stand.

“Giving up?” Rafe scoffs without looking up from his phone, “typical.”

You don’t say anything as you round the table and head for the door. Before you can step into the entryway, a searing pain in your scalp lurches you back. You cry out as Rafe drags you into the dining room and pens you in against the table. He fists your hair as he snarls at you.

“Don’t you fucking go tattling on me to daddy,” he growls. “Don’t be a little bitch and sit the fuck down.”

“Let me go–”

“I was fucking serious. I’ll pay you to mind your goddamn business. My dad wants me to read these damn books, so you tell him I read them,” he sneers, “but it’s gotta be fucking believable so go on and sit.”

“Rafe–”

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” he spits, “I don’t wanna hear my name on your fucking lips.” You flinch as he yanks your hair, “we got a deal or what?” His eyes drift down to your striped tee shirt, “you could use the money.”

You gulp and glance past him. What other prospects do you have? Sit at home and face the music and have no money or sit here in silence until your time is up.

“Ow,” you squirm, “I– I’ll do it but– let me go.”

He abides as he rolls his eyes and shoves you away from him, “god, you’re fucking whiny.”

“I’m not… I’m not going to stay if you keep doing that–”

“Ah, come on,” he slurs, “tell me it doesn’t get you a little hot. I know you ain’t had other guys up on you.”

That hurts in a different way. You try not to show it as you back away from him. This isn’t a good idea. He’s not exactly stable and you don’t really trust him. Even if he doesn’t follow through, money is money. Besides, he seems more interested in that phone than you.

You go back around the table and sit. You pull the textbook close and Rafe narrows his eyes at you. You raise a palm, trembling despite your efforts.

“To make it convincing,” you say and exhale heavily.

He grumbles and drops back into his seat. You set your bag on the chair next to you and slip your laptop out once more. You pop it open and listlessly drag your finger over the trackpad. You still don’t have the wifi. Solitaire it is.

You yawn and lean your chin in your hand. The tension remains. It’s silent but for his occasional snort or mutter at his phone. He’s just the same as he ever was. The popular kid defiant to everyone and everything around him.

You wish you could be that reckless. Well, you can’t just fall back on daddy’s bank account. You have to work to get top marks just to afford your tuition, but the scholarships don’t pay for your books or your housing. That’s all up to you and what little your parents can scrape up after their own expenses.

As much as you hate his privilege, you envy it. Maybe you would be like him if you had that. Maybe you wouldn’t care either.

You click away at the cards, stacking one on top of the other. You look at the time. Not even twenty minutes in. You’re scheduled for two hours. This is actual torture, even triggering. The last thing you wanted to do was revert to high school. Graduation was the happiest day of your life because it meant you never had to see those people again.

Or so you thought.

Rafe chuffs and lets out a groan. You don’t look up. He’s already proven he’s unhinged, it wouldn’t surprise you if he had full conversations with himself. He knocks the table and another long drone escapes him. The table jolts a second time and your laptop bounces. You sit up to see above the screen.

Rafe aims his phone at his lap. The way his other arm you can tell he’s holding his… you know. What the hell?!

You’re too embarrassed to call him out. You hope at least he doesn’t actually have it out. Oh god, he really has no shame. 

You win and the cards stream down in celebration. Rafe makes another noise. A deep rasp that catches in his throat. Your skin is on fire. You should have left. 

“Uh, where’s the bathroom?” You ask as you get up.

“Dammit,” he growls as he pumps his arm furiously. Is he– “I’m about to–”

Your mouth falls open and you stumble. You panic and quickly turn, nearly sprinting into the kitchen. You stagger through another doorway and down a hallway. You find a half bath and lock yourself inside.

You can’t unsee what you just saw. Why would he do that right there across from you? He’s sick and twisted!

[writings-of-a-demigod]

Meeting the Winchesters - Dean and Sam Winchester

plot: meeting the Winchesters while working on a case and you decide to work together.

character: Dean Winchester x hunter! reader + Sam Winchester x hunter! reader

a/n: I've been looking through my old writings and trying to fix them up and post them again in here :)

There you were at a bar reading a file for the case you were working on, you didn't have an office because you weren't a lawyer or a police officer, not even a detective you were a hunter. Yes, that's right hunting things that were barely human, even humans don't believe in them but that's not important you needed to solve the case and get out of this town.

You tried to list all the things that could be the cost of this like demons or werewolves even shapeshifters and the list goes on, while you were reading you heard a man's voice next to you talking to the bartender

"Two beers sweetheart"

You glanced at the man he was handsome and had short brown hair with green eyes and he was wearing a suit the tie was a little loose like he just got out of work. He looked at you

"Well hello" he said to you

"Not interested" you said going back to reading the file.

"I didn't say anything" he tried to defend himself but he didn't get a reply from you, he raised his eyebrow and tried to get a look at the case file "You're working on this new case, right?"

You looked at him again with dead eyes "Do you need something?" you asked because if he kept bothering you, you would punch him in the face.

"Here are your drinks sir" the bartender said putting the two beers in front of him, he smiled at her.

"Thanks" then turned his attention back to you "I'm working on this case too" he extended his hand for you to shake "My name is Dean Winchester"

You raised your eyebrow "Wait Winchester as in John Winchester's kid?"

Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrow

"You know who my dad is?"

You smiled for the first time day "Dude John is the coolest person I've ever met"

He looked confused "I didn't catch your name"

You put down the file and extended your hand to him "My name is Y/N Y/L/N nice to meet ya"

he shook it.

"Cool, listen my brother and I are working on this case wanna join us and share what you got with us?"

You got your things "Sure"

He took the two beers and led you to a booth where a man was setting there with his laptop doing some research. "Hey Sam this is Y/N Y/L/N she'll be working with us on this case" he informed him.

Sam looked up from his laptop screen and smiled at you. He extended his hand "Nice to meet you Y/N" You shook his hand "You too" You sat down on the opposite side of the boys and talked for 3 hours about what you got on the case. After discussing the case you guys started telling stories.

"So Y/n how do you know our dad?" Dean asked after taking a sip from his beer Sam looked at Dean first then you.

"Wait you knew our dad?"

You laughed "Yeah I did. He and my dad were friends and worked a few cases together when I was like 10 I looked over a case file that was lying around and told my dad about my theory but my dad didn't want me near anything he said 'I won't raise you as a hunter' but that didn't really stop me so when I told him he yelled at me for even thinking about it then John said 'Hey the kid is not wrong it won't harm us if we go according to her theory' of course my dad yelled at him for encouraging me but I just smiled at him. After the hunt, he told me that I was right about it and that I would be great at whatever I would be doing in the future".

Dean smiled "So you were a nerd since you were a little kid?"

You hit him on his arm playfully "Shut up"

He raised his hands in the air laughing.

"Don't worry he calls me a nerd all the time" Sam said smiling

"Ok so tomorrow we will talk to the victims' families" You said you all agreed on meeting outside the first victim's house.

~~Time skips to after you solved the case~~

Turned out that crossroad demons were behind everything and you and the boys solved the case you were in the bar to celebrate.

"You guys really made a name for yourselves in this career" you said looking at the boys

"Yeah, how could you not" Dean replied

"So Y/n if your dad didn't want you to be a hunter what would you be doing now?" Sam asked

"Oh well maybe I would've been a fancy lawyer you know the one who gives people the creeps just by looking at them and well a very good one." you said smiling.

You look at your watch "Oh well I gotta get out of here" standing up and taking your bag.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked

"I got another case and I need to visit someone in New York"

Dean stood up "Well good luck out there" he hugged you

"Yeah, you too Winchester" You hugged Sam next

"It was great meeting you" he said

"Oh I know" you smirked

"Hope I see you two around Bye boys" and with that you got out of the bar and into your car and drove to the state line.

[kyywritess]

CHAPTER 5: KNOW ITS FOR THE BETTER

pairing: aged up!katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

summary: After six intense years in Japan, YN LN has firmly established herself as a renowned gym owner. She's known by many pros for her charm, strength, and boxing abilities. She has a strong support system and amazing friends... her life in Japan was everything she dreamed it would be.

But everything changes one fateful night when a mysterious package appears on her doorstep. No note, no return address—just a plain box wrapped with a single pearly pink ribbon. As she unravels the contents of the box, she’s drawn into a dark, twisted mystery that seems to reach deep into her own past—a past she thought she had buried when she left her old life behind.

wc: 2.8k

---

Staring out at the skyline of Musutafu, Bakugo sat at a conference table with other pro heroes, the atmosphere heavy as grim photos flashed on the screen.

“There’s been another casualty,” a senior hero announced, their voice grim. “A young woman, found in her home last night. However, we managed to recover some security footage.”

Bakugo’s attention snapped to the screen, his heart skipping at the mention of a young woman and camera footage. His mind immediately jumped to you, but the knot in his chest loosened when he saw the images—it wasn’t you.

Still, he hadn’t seen or heard from you in days. He’d stopped by your place during patrol the other night to check on you after you’d taken a bad fall and hit your head.

When you hadn’t answered, he’d let himself in with the key you’d given him, scanning the apartment for signs of forced entry. Nothing seemed out of place—until he called you, and you finally answered.

The sound of another man’s voice in the background had caught him off guard.

Bakugo wasn’t one to get jealous. He didn’t chase after anyone. But you? You were different. You weren’t just anyone.

From the moment he met you—the sharp-tongued gym owner who could spar with him almost as well as you could trade barbs—he’d been hooked. There was something about the way you carried yourself, the spark in your eyes, your effortless strength.

Over time, his admiration had deepened. He noticed the little things: the slight change in your perfume, the way you’d stopped wearing your hair in a certain style, the way your laugh could disarm him like no villain ever could.

You were the exception, the one person he’d chase to the ends of the earth if he had to. And he wasn’t about to lose you to some extra who probably couldn’t throw a decent punch.

Snapping back to the present, Bakugo narrowed his eyes at the screen. Something in the footage caught his attention—a detail others had missed.

“Zoom in on that image,” he ordered, his voice cutting through the room.

Deku, holding the remote, adjusted the image, focusing on the man in the footage.

“More. His wrist.”

The screen zoomed in, revealing a tattoo on the man’s wrist. The word Omertà was inked in bold, an unmistakable symbol of the mafia’s code of silence.

“He’s flaunting it,” Bakugo growled. “The bastard knows we’re watching.”

Todoroki frowned. “It could be a coincidence.”

“No way,” Bakugo shot back. “He made sure the camera caught it. He wants us to know.”

Deku suddenly pulled up an old news report on his laptop. “This might be connected. A few years ago, an abandoned warehouse in the U.S. was blown up. They only recovered a few bodies, but every one of them had that same tattoo.”

“If this is an American mob, why are they here?” Todoroki asked, his voice steady but curious.

Deku shook his head. “The report didn’t give many details, and when I searched, there weren’t any follow-ups. Officially, they called it an accident.”

“Someone buried it,” Endeavor said, his tone grim. “The question is, who?”

“We need intel,” Bakugo said, his fists clenching. “Get the American Hero Committee on the line. If they’ve been dealing with these guys, they’ll know something.”

“I’ll handle the calls,” Deku offered, already typing.

Bakugo pushed his chair back, rising abruptly. “Do that. I’m not sitting around while these scumbags think they can move in on our turf.”

“Where are you going?” Endeavor asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Got somewhere to be.” Bakugo muttered, heading for the door. “Keep me updated.”

The team exchanged glances as Bakugo stormed out.

He couldn’t shake the thought of you, though. Whatever was happening, Bakugo knew one thing for sure: no one messed with his city—or with you.

---

YN’S POV

The past few days had been a blur of caffeine-fueled frustration as you and James worked tirelessly to gather intel. Despite countless hours and far too many coffee breaks, the pieces of the puzzle still didn’t fit together. Meanwhile, life didn’t slow down for your obligations outside the investigation. Running the gym meant you couldn't rely on your employees to pick up the slack—it wouldn’t be fair to them.

Tonight’s task was a children’s class, and your special guest was nowhere in sight.

You glanced at the clock, the start of the class just five minutes away, while kids eagerly laced up their gloves, their excited chatter occasionally turning to questions about your promised guest. Anxiety crept up your spine as you called him yet again, only to be met with voicemail for the umpteenth time.

It wasn’t just about tonight—you hadn’t spoken to him since the night you hit your head. Something about his silence gave you the nagging suspicion that he was mad at you. But you hadn’t expected him to be petty enough to completely ditch the class.

“You didn’t think I’d show, did you?”

The voice startled you, low and full of smug satisfaction. Spinning around, you found yourself face-to-face with none other than Katsuki Bakugo himself.

“Katsuki! What the hell?” you exclaimed, punching him in the arm with more force than necessary.

“Oi!” He winced, rubbing the spot with an exaggerated glare. “What was that for?”

“You were supposed to be here ages ago!” you huffed, arms crossed. “Do you know how many voicemails I left you?”

“I dunno, ten? I didn’t count,” he shot back, the smirk creeping onto his face only fueling your irritation. “Relax, I’m here now.”

“Barely.” You gave him your best stern look, though his lack of concern made it feel like you were trying to lecture a brick wall.

He quirked an eyebrow, his crimson eyes sparkling with mischief. “A meeting ran late, okay? I came as soon as I could.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, still not entirely appeased. “Help me grab these pads. We’re working on defense today.”

As you handed him a few pads, you retrieved the rest from the tote and launched into your explanation. “The kids can throw decent punches, but their defense is still pretty weak. I figured we’d give them a proper demonstration to help it click.”

Trailing behind you to the mat, Bakugo’s expression softened when he noticed the kids’ wide-eyed stares and excited whispers. The realization that Dynamight was standing in their gym had lit a fire of enthusiasm you hadn’t seen in ages.

“Alright, everyone,” you began, clapping your hands to gather their attention. “As promised, we have a special guest today—Dynamight himself!”

Gasps and cheers erupted, the kids practically bouncing with excitement. You spotted one in the corner nearly vibrating out of their shoes.

“Dynamight is here to help us with defense drills,” you continued. “And if you’re lucky, you might even get to fight him yourself.”

The kids collectively lost their minds, one of them outright shouting, “I’m gonna destroy you!”

Bakugo snorted, muttering under his breath, “Bold of ‘em to assume.”

“Dynamight, do you want to say something?” you prompted, nudging him lightly.

He stared at you, clearly out of his depth, but the silent plea in your eyes pushed him forward. “Can’t wait to see what you’ve got,” he muttered, crossing his arms.

You raised an eyebrow, your expression screaming that’s it?

Groaning under his breath, he added begrudgingly, “If you do good today, I’ll let you throw punches at me.”

The kids exploded in cheers, their excitement reaching a fever pitch.

Rolling your eyes, you motioned for them to line up against the wall. “Alright, me and Dynamight are going to demonstrate some basic defense moves. You’ll practice with pads while we suit up with gloves.”

Tossing a pair of gloves at Bakugo, you slipped yours on and got into position. “The first move is head defense. Dynamight, take a shot at me.”

He threw a slow, controlled hook toward your head, the smirk on his face daring you to mess up. You blocked it effortlessly, your arm shielding your ear, temple, and chin with practiced precision.

“See? Tight guard. Make sure your arm is tucked close to your face. Now, let’s see you all try!”

As the kids practiced, Bakugo leaned closer, his voice low. “You’re not half-bad at this.”

“Not half-bad?” you echoed, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know I’m a great teacher.”

He smirked, leaning back shrug. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I wouldn’t mind havin’ you as my teacher back in the day.”

“Oh?” You quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. “What about Aizawa? You’re always singing his praises.”

“Tch, he was good. But I mean before U.A. Back when I was a little punk, maybe I’d’ve turned out different if I had someone like you around.”

You nudged him playfully. “Don’t dwell on it. I was a punk too, y’know. Besides, your personality is one of my favorite things about you.”

He turned to you, his expression softening. “You mean that?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

The rest of the class flew by, and true to his word, Bakugo let the kids take turns throwing punches at him. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him interact with them, his usual sharpness giving way to a surprising warmth.

“Thank you again.”

“Yeah.” Katsuki’s response was quiet, almost uncharacteristic, as he stared off to the side, his brows slightly furrowed like he was wrestling with his thoughts. You could sense there was something else he wanted to say, but hesitation hung in the air between you.

“Katsuki?” you prompted softly, tilting your head.

He shifted, exhaling sharply through his nose. “I wanted to ask ya somethin’.”

A nervous energy settled in your chest, your pulse quickening. His seriousness was rare, and you couldn’t help but wonder what was coming. Before he could continue, though, a hand on your shoulder snapped your attention away.

“Y/N.”

Turning around, you found James standing there, his expression calm but purposeful. He had been stationed in your office throughout the class, a constant shadow ever since his arrival, clearly intent on keeping an eye on you.

“I have a business call to take,” he said with a polite nod. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready.”

He gave a slight bow of his head toward Katsuki before turning on his heel and striding toward the exit. You barely had time to process his departure before Katsuki’s voice cut through.

“Who's the old bastard?”

You blinked, turning back to him. His ruby eyes narrowed slightly, and there was a flicker of something—irritation, curiosity, maybe even jealousy—etched into his face.

“That’s James,” you explained, adjusting the gym bag on your shoulder. “The ‘friend’ I was with the other night.”

“You like em' old?” he quipped, arching a brow.

Your eyes narrowed, and before you could think twice, you punched him lightly on the arm for the second time that evening. “He’s a family friend from America, you idiot. He and his wife are visiting, and I’m showing them around town.”

“Oh.” His response was clipped, almost sheepish, though he tried to mask it with a shrug.

“Yeah, oh.” You shot him a pointed look, your tone laced with mock exasperation. “Anyway, what did you want to ask me?”

It was clear his train of thought had been derailed. He seemed flustered now, his confident air wavering as the faintest pink dusted his cheeks.

“Nothin’,” he muttered, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “Forget it.” He made to turn away, but you weren’t about to let him off the hook so easily.

“Just ask me,” you said firmly, grabbing his hand and tugging him to a stop.

He let out a frustrated breath, looking anywhere but at you. “The hero gala is comin’ up,” he began, his voice gruff, almost like he was annoyed with himself for even bringing it up. “I need a date.”

“And?” you prodded, your brows lifting in encouragement.

“Was wonderin’ if you wanted to go with me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “Me?”

“No, idiot,” he shot back, rolling his eyes, though his flushed face betrayed him. “I’m talkin’ to the wall.”

A laugh bubbled out of you as you lightly swatted at his arm. “Why me?”

His lips pressed into a tight line, and for a moment, you thought he might backtrack entirely. But then he huffed, “Forget it. If you don’t wanna go, just say it.”

“No, no, I want to,” you blurted out quickly, a smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll go with you.”

“Yeah?” His gaze snapped to yours, a flicker of relief crossing his face.

“Yeah.”

As you smiled up at him, a wave of unease churned in your stomach, clashing with the butterflies that danced at his gaze—a gaze meant only for you. You were falling for him, and the timing couldn’t have been worse.

---

Bakugo had been riding a rare high ever since leaving the gym. For weeks, he’d been working up the nerve to ask you to be his date to the hero gala, and now that you’d said yes, he felt a weight lift off his shoulders. The corners of his lips twitched into a small, satisfied smirk as he arrived back at the agency, heading straight for his office.

“Kacchan, wait!”

The familiar voice of Deku cut through the hallway, and Bakugo turned to see him hurrying over, a sense of urgency written all over his face.

“What is it now?” Bakugo asked, raising an eyebrow as Deku thrust a vanilla file folder into his hands.

“We got more information. Look at this.”

Flipping the folder open, Bakugo scanned the first page. A detailed report stared back at him, the name Anthony Moretti printed in bold letters at the top alongside a grainy photo of a middle-aged man with sharp features and cold, calculating eyes.

“Who the hell is this?” Bakugo questioned, his voice low and sharp.

“Anthony Moretti,” Deku explained, his tone grim. “He’s a Mafia boss from America. That warehouse that blew up? It was an underground club he was running.”

Bakugo frowned, his crimson eyes narrowing. “Why the hell was this sealed from public records?”

“The explosion was caused by a group of pro heroes,” Deku said, his voice dropping lower. “Not only did the blast kill everyone inside the building, but it also took out civilians nearby. The higher-ups didn’t want the general public knowing that pro heroes were responsible for innocent lives being lost.”

“Tch,” Bakugo scoffed, his grip tightening on the file. “They’re trying to cover their asses.”

“Exactly,” Deku said, handing over another folder. This one bore a picture of a masked hero, her face obscured but her stance confident and commanding.

“Do you remember her?” Deku asked.

Bakugo’s eyes darkened. “Yeah… Nova. She died a few years back.”

“She was the only hero assigned to the case,” Deku continued. “Apparently, all her work was undercover.”

“If she was the only hero, who the hell was she working with?” Bakugo asked, his tone clipped.

“She was partnered with two federal agents assigned by the Hero Committee—Lila Macontash and James Tucker,” Deku said.

“Do we have any way of getting a hold of them?” Bakugo pressed.

“Lila died in the explosion that night,” Deku explained, his voice heavy, “but I’m working on finding James Tucker. After Nova and Lila’s deaths, he went off the radar and stopped working with heroes for a while.”

“Find him. He’s probably the only shot we’ve got at figuring out what went down that night.”

“I’ve already got Todoroki tracking him,” Deku said.

“And what about Moretti?” Bakugo asked, his sharp gaze cutting to Deku. “Where is he now?”

“It’s unclear,” Deku admitted. “Apparently, after the explosion, they arrested him, but he escaped prison a few weeks ago.”

Bakugo let out a low growl, his irritation bubbling. “If his team’s here, then he has to be close. But why the hell would they come to Japan?”

Deku shook his head. “That’s what doesn’t make sense. It seems like they wanted us to know they’re here, but why target innocent women?”

Bakugo’s jaw clenched, his mind racing. “It doesn’t add up. The only two women who went after him—Nova and Lila—are dead. Even if they were alive, Moretti wouldn’t risk being in Japan just to send a message.”

“I’ll dig deeper,” Deku assured him. “I’ll see if he has any ties to Japan. And once we track down James Tucker, hopefully, we can piece together what really happened that night.”

“Good.” Bakugo’s voice was sharp and resolute. “Let me know the second you hear anything.”

---

TAGLIST: @emmaafinchh

If anyone want's to be tagged in the next posts please let me know! :)

[daceydeath]

Cigarettes and Cliche's (Part 10)

Pairings: Bad Boy Felix x Reader Word Count: 5.5K Genre: Collage AU, Slow Burn Romance Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Alcohol, Smoking

He was the most impractical guy for you to be interested in the incredibly handsome cliché bad boy who collected girls like trophies. As hard as you wanted to stay away you couldn't even if it might cost you everything and leave you heartbroken you couldn't ignore him.

You felt lighter now that Seungmin and Jeongin knew but you knew they were still going to be protective of you and once they got used to it would start taking the piss out of you. What you didn’t expect though was the kid glove treatment that you got the following morning when they decided to join you at the table while you savored your coffee.

“What are you doing today?” Seungmin asked after swallowing a mouthful of cereal.

“I’m working later but not much” you smiled, noticing they both had bowls so that meant no smoke alarms for burnt toast at least.

“Are you going to see Felix?” Jeongin questioned not looking up at you.

“Is there a reason we are playing twenty questions?” you mused looking at each of them pointedly as flush crept up their ears.

“No, I just am curious,” he blinked owlishly.

“I don’t know what I’m doing today. I could study a bit and I think Changbin and Han wanted to grab dinner at some point so I’m not sure” you shrugged feeling satisfied that they were only being sweet.

“There is a party tonight if you want to come, after work of course, your boyfriend will probably be there” Seungmin smirked which made you roll your eyes.

“Maybe it depends on my shift” you sighed feigning indifference even though a spike of nervousness shot through you“I assume you will be spying on him to make sure he behaves himself?”.

“No…well yeah” Jeongin grinned shamelessly.

“To be honest I don't know how people will react if they see us together so soon after the Nali thing” you chewed the inside of your cheek and frowned. Part of you didn't care what people thought you wanted to be with Felix and you were happy but another part of you was scared that people would think you were a liar and that maybe Nali was right about you even though you had proved at the time she wasn't.

“You don't have to worry about that, I swear no one will say anything” Seungmin interjected sympathetically, his hand reaching out to squeeze your forearm. Besides, do you really think that Felix won't punch on if someone insults you? Shit I'll join in too”.

“I would prefer that there were no fights” you rolled your eyes remembering the first time you had met Felix had been due to Seungmin losing a fight.

“Well I won't be getting in any fights, blood would ruin my outfit” Jeongin smirked, not reassuring you at all as he got up to put his cup in the sink.

“Boys.” you sighed heavily, your sarcasm obvious while trying not to smile as you too moved to put your dishes in the sink. “I’ll be in my room if you need me”.

Retreating to your room you sat at your small desk and woke up your laptop, you really should get a little bit more studying in before the final weekend of the break actually hit you and you would need to figure out which tests you could show to your parents without them realizing you had over exaggerated now much work you needed to get done before the starting week of the new semester. An hour passed before you stopped to stare at the screen, your grades were high, your scores were damn good and your lowest grade would be an A- even if you missed a few of the graded minor papers that would be required in the next 10 weeks but you knew that would not be enough for them. 

Lix, Do you really think I could change my degree? Would the university inform anyone if I did?

You typed quickly, still not totally comfortable to just call in case he was still sleeping. When you went back to the University portal and left your academic outcomes you clicked on the link giving you information about changing majors, degrees or doctorates scanning the pages for what the most negative outcome would be for you. With the grades you had in the mathematical side you would be pretty much level in that aspect of the change but you would have to add a whole extra year to be able to achieve the design grades for you to be able to graduate. 

You want to change to architecture? That’s great baby I’m so proud of you x

The uni wouldn’t tell anyone unless it fucked up your scholarship. But I will help you figure it out, my super smart baby.

Your stomach dropped, your scholarship, how could you forget something so important the only reason you could attend was that scholarship and if it jeopardized that there was no way you could even afford to attend university anymore let alone add a year to change your career. Taking a couple of deep breaths you picked up your phone and dialed Felix if he answered he was awake at least. It only rang once before his deep albeit croaky voice filled your ear.

“Morning baby” he answered, sounding slightly groggy.

“Did I wake you Lix? I’m sorry” you pouted apologetically, your cursor hovering over the button leading to the contact of the administration about how they could help you.

“Nah I’ve been awake for a while, just had a late night “you could hear the smile in his voice “you want to change your degree? That’s a huge deal baby I’m proud of you”.

“I want to, I want to be able to do what I want in my life” you admitted the heat climbing up your neck as he snickered quietly.

“Do what you want hey? Like sneaking off and getting a boyfriend?” you could almost see the smug face you knew he was pulling. “Going on dates and partying?”.

“Something like that” you mumbled feeling shy “but only if it doesn’t mess up my scholarship”.

“We can sort that out if it comes to it but it might not” Felix reassured you, the sound of fabric moving was distracting you slightly.

“What are you doing? I can hear all this moving” you asked trying to distract Felix from provoking you any further.

“I’m still in bed baby, just looking at the view, wishing you were here and as half dressed as I am” he teased huskily, making the blood rush not only to your face in embarrassment but also far lower on your anatomy.

“I’m hanging up now” you groaned, placing your other hand on your cheek to cool it down.

“No baby don’t go I’m just playing I promise” he protested sincerely “There is a party tonight do you want to come with me? Did you want to come over here since they guys will be going and we could hang out”.

“I have work this afternoon so If you want to go you should I can text you if I’m going and we can decide then. I don’t want to pull you away from all your fun to have a boring night with me” you smiled honestly not minding at all Felix had proved you could trust him after all.

“I would rather have fun with you than go to a party and spend the night thinking about you” Felix admitted, clearing his throat softly as soon as the words left his mouth, his words making you feel warm all over. 

“Alright Lix, I’ll talk to you later” you whispered, turning your attention back to your screen to click on the email template for making an appointment to change up your degree.

“You will baby” Felix answered making a small kiss noise before hanging up leaving you feeling flustered all over again. Giggling breathily you had to admit he was a massive flirt when he wanted to be and he flustered you so easily it was almost pathetic.

Filling out all your details and your questions about changing from accounting to architecture and whether that would affect your finances and scholarship you hit send and hoped that you would get an answer before the start of classes. Checking the time you got yourself ready for work, when you finally emerged from your solitude you found Seungmin and Jeongin booting up the game console in the lounge so they could play something while you went to get a snack.

“Guys I’m thinking about doing something drastic and I want your opinion” you announced flopping onto the other couch to watch them play.

“Is it drastically stupid like sleeping with Felix? Or is it drastic like quitting your job?” Seungim asked jokingly, not looking at you.

“I’m thinking of changing my degree” you confessed, making Jeongin drop his controller and Seungmin hit pause immediately so they could both gawk at you.

“You're dropping out of accounting?” Jeongin blinked at you confused.

“Well I’d change from accounting to something I would rather do, since being an accountant is what my parents wanted me to be” you explained carefully.

“What would you change it to?” Seungmin asked, perplexed that you were going to give up a degree you were working so hard on.

“Architecture, that’s what I wanted to do” you continued the corners of your lips turning upward as you watched their confusion melt away into encouraging smiles.

“You should do it, shouldn’t she Seung? You should follow the career you want” Jeongin nodded excitedly, elbowing Seungmin.

“Fuck yeah you should” Seungmin grinned “If it will make you happy then do it you would be incredible at it”.

“Even if it means I would have to move back into the dorms because I couldn’t pay to live here anymore? Even if it means a whole extra year added to my studies? Even if it means my scholarship might be in jeopardy?” you stressed each question falling as rapidly as gunfire from your lips.

“Yes” Seungmin nodded earnestly “Absolutely”.

“Your so smart and have such good grades you could probably get another scholarship or even a full ride one so you wouldn’t have to worry about your parents anymore at all” Jeongin’s eyes lit up as he thought up ideas for how to work around any obstacles “You wouldn’t need to move we could totally cover your rent for a while anyway until you either got a better job than the coffee shop or you started getting Study Aid payments”.

“You couldn’t do that Innie! I wouldn’t let you” you insisted back gently not wanting to sound ungrateful for his support but also not willing to take advantage of him.

“We could and we would” Seungmin shrugged “But that is getting way ahead of ourselves anyway”. Easily dismissing the idea before it could become a proper issue between you all “We would only need to worry about that if it came to it”.

“So I guess don’t think it's a stupid idea then?” you sighed feeling like it mustn’t be that far fetched if the smartest of your friends thought it wasn’t dumb.

“It’s a great idea, you should talk to Han about it. He changed his degree after only half a semester when he first started because he realized he hated what he had chosen” Jeongin added, picking up his controller again.

“I’ll even say dating a man whore isn’t a dumb idea if he gets you to make decisions about doing things that you want to do for your life instead of living for your parents” Seungmin waggled his eyebrows at you.

“Seung fuck off” you grumbled thowing a cushion at him and going to make a coffee “I could have way stupider ideas like telling my parents I want to change career options…. Or dating Minho”.

You had been at work for a little over an hour when you noticed Changbin and Chan wander in, each giving you a little wave before grabbing a seat in the back corner of the cafe still deep in their own conversation. From your spot behind the coffee machine you could see that it seemed to be a serious chat between the two of them with Changbin looking slightly annoyed at whatever Chan was saying but your attention instantly turned to the register when you heard Han’s voice ordering their drinks. He moved over towards the end of the counter where you were working leaning casually against the wood countertop.

“Hey, you still up for dinner with the three of us tomorrow?” He greeted you energetically while watching you steam another jug of milk.

“Of course, unless you have more exciting plans” you giggled watching him start bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.

“Nope, getting to hang out with you without Seung and Innie is a treat we will not pass up” Han informed you with an overly dramatic wink.

“I’ll bring your drinks over to you. I'm due my first break by then” you smiled gesturing him to go and sit down, which he did joining back into their conversation. You made the four drinks Han had ordered, confused about the fourth but still, but took them over all the same after slipping off your apron and grabbing your phone. One of your other coworkers had already delivered the food that Han had ordered and they were already picking at a basket of fries by the time you got to the table

“The last ones for you before you ask” Han interrupted your thoughts making you huff out a small laugh on your way to put the tray back on the counter before joining them again.

“So where are we going for dinner and what time?” you asked, looking between them for answers. 

“The new fancy burger place a few blocks from here and what time do you finish?” Changbin replied, taking his first sip of coffee and closing his eyes to enjoy it “God I needed coffee”.

“Happy to provide it” you nodded and I’ll be finished at 7 tomorrow” you smiled.

“Oh we will meet you here then if you like, you don’t need to get changed, it's just a burger place” Chan stated easily “unless you want to go home and change, in which case I’ll pick you up from the apartment if that’s better for you?”.

“I’m not making you drive to my place and get me since it’s the opposite direction Chan” you sighed “but I will go home and change. I'm too clumsy to stay perfectly clean for a whole shift”.

“Easy We will pick you up at 7:45 then” Chan grinned, making Han laugh and you roll your eyes.

“None of us are letting you walk that far after it's gotten dark” Changbin smirked, “just let him win”.

“Fine you win! 7:45 at the apartment then” you groaned playfully while drinking the iced coffee Han had so generously ordered for you.  

“There is a party that the others are all heading to that we were thinking about hitting tonight” Han added meeting your eyes “It will be larger than the last one but we will look after you, even get the manwhores in on it inbetween their slutty behaviors”.

“I’ll think about it” you relented knowing that you would end up going because you were feeling that it was greedy to steal Felix away from his friends constantly. “Oh! Changbin I forgot Hana asked me to give you her number if you were remotely interested” you looked at him happily to change the topic of conversation.

“Hana? Do I know a Hana?” Changbin narrowed his eyes and poked the tip of his tongue out between his lips as he thought hard about who this mystery girl was.

“She’s the coworker who thought you were cute the other day” you giggled making him relax as Han and Chan chuckled at him.

“Oh yeah you said that, sure” he shrugged, opening his phone for you to add her details.

“It’s only if you want though I didn’t promise her anything” you added as you saved her number and slid his phone back to him.

“Changbin has had his eye on someone but I think he may have figured out it’s one-sided” Han teased mercilessly, picking up several fries and shoving them in his mouth as Changbin glared at him.

“Not like he did anything about it so how would she even have known?” Chan added snickering as the flush that was forming on Changbin’s cheeks deepened.

“Don’t listen to them if she knows but doesn’t act on it she is dumb” you smiled sweetly at Changbin hoping to make him feel better “But if she doesn’t know that’s on you big guy because I’m sure you’re a catch”.

“Yeah I was slow on it and she’s interested in someone else I’m pretty sure, but Hana was pretty but I’m not sure if she’s your friend you have shown you have poor taste” Changbin retorted but smiled at you regardless.

“Wow. I mean sure blame me for the fact that the man whore’s caused problems” you spluttered jokingly. “Especially since pretty much all my friends are your friends too. What does that say about you?”. 

“So are any of you going to tell me who the girl was or am I going to have to guess?” you smirked remembering that Seungmin had flippantly told you that Changbin would be crushed by the news of your dating status change.

“Umm… that isn’t important but I have heard a strange rumor from Minho” Han butted in, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Oh yeah and what would that be?” you tried sounding sarcastic but it instead sounded flat, you knew that Minho must have already started dropping hints to the others hoping to catch you out.

“Apparently that hoodie you wore to our place wasn’t yours, apparently it belongs to a guy” he smirked, taking a sip of his coffee and looking straight at you.

“So this juicy rumor is that I borrowed a hoodie?” you replied dryly, pursing your lips to contain the laugh that was trying to escape you.

“When you say it like that it doesn’t sound as suspicious” Han whined admitting his defeat by shoving some more fries in his mouth and grumbling around them.

“But ok then I admit it, it wasn’t my hoodie” you chuckled watching him sulk as Chan raised his eyebrows ready to question you again but you cut him off by standing up and grabbing your almost finished drink. “My break is over, I'll see you later”. 

Going back behind the counter and putting your apron back on you quickly let Felix know what you were doing, he could be the one to decide how public your dating would be and you would just go with it.

Lix I think I want to go to the party tonight xx

Not waiting for an answer you began making more coffees for the orders that had come in during the changeover between your break and your co workers. Hoping the rest of the shift wouldn’t drag on too much and that Chan didn’t come over to ask you any more questions.

I’ll pick you up baby. 

Fuck I’ve missed you I hope you don’t mind if I can’t keep my hands off you.

Unless you don’t want me too ;)

Blood rushed to your cheeks as his messages came in one after the other making you feel almost dizzy, you mentally slapped yourself and tried desperately to concentrate on work.

You rushed home after your shift to give you time to get ready, Seungmin was showering when you got in so you passed his room completely before knocking on Jeongin's door.

"What's up?" he questioned, opening the door for you but going instantly back to his bed where he was putting together possible outfits for the night.

"Innie you have a far better fashion sense than me. Can I get some advice?" you grimaced knowing he was going to either tease you or complain about your entire wardrobe.

"Are you coming with us tonight?" his eyes widened excitedly. “Do you need my help to make you look hot for your new boyfriend?”.

"I was going to go with you but if you’re going to tease me all night I won’t. I thought I should ask you for help because maybe I should look at least a little bit nicer. Especially since it will be the first time I'm at a frat party with Felix, and I don't actually know IF he's even going to acknowledge that we are together in public yet. But I don't want him to be disappointed that I didn't make an effort to look nice and not embarrass him" you rambled until you almost ran out of breath leaving Jeongin looking at you like you were unintentionally hilarious but that he understood your concerns so he was trying really hard not to laugh at you.

"Felix doesn’t care how you dress, obviously, and I’m sure he would never be embarrassed by you either'' Jeongin shook his head letting a small giggle escape his throat.

“Thank you Innie” you sighed heavily, chewing on your lip as he looked you over. 

"Come on let's see what I can do with your terrible closet" he sighed dramatically walking out of his room and towards yours while you huffed and followed him dragging your feet. Jeongin basically emptied your entire wardrobe looking at everything you owned frowning, sighing, rolling his eyes and then frowning again.

"We are going shopping after this" he grumbled putting his hand up towards you without even looking at you "that is a statement not a request your clothes are tragic".

"I'm not going to be taking up partying Innie" you sulked instantly realizing how much of your savings he would insist you blow on clothes that were unimportant anyway since you might not be able to afford them later.

"Stop thinking so hard" Seungmin smirked from the doorway no doubt hearing the conversation while he was getting dressed. "He won't let you pay for it so you might as well make it easier for yourself".

"So do I have anything worthy of wearing or should I just stay home so I don't cause you a lifetime of shame for being seen with me?" you whined as Jeongin held out his hands with a large black lump of fabric in it.

"This skirt and top with a pair of tights, black preferably but your lace once would work too, with your boots and I will lend you a jacket if you promise not to get it filthy" he smiled pleased with his decision.

"Alright if you are sure'' you nodded, smiling relieved as you were not sure if you would regret this but at least Jeongin deemed this to be enough to not embarrass yourself in public. Jeongin left your room shoving Seungmin playfully as he passed, letting the door swing shut behind him. Pondering your decision one last time you pulled your shirt over your head and started undoing your jeans.

"Wear a nice bra too, would you" Jeongin yelled through the door making you jump.

"Innie!" you screamed feeling both panicked and annoyed at his audacity, you heard him laugh again as you begrudgingly followed his instructions and found a nicer bra to put on instead of the plain pale blue one you had on. You were annoyed when you looked at yourself in the mirror and realized he had been right, even down to the bra, you did look considerably better than you usually looked even when you tried to look pretty but you were never going to admit that. The black top clung to you in a flattering way and the skirt fell just past your mid thigh. Your black tights gave you a little more cover and you knew your boots would make it look casual enough to not look overdressed. Scrunching up your face you went into the bathroom to touch up your makeup and finish getting ready.

Going back into the lounge you were not expecting to find both of your roommates waiting for you to show them your outfit but both nodded approvingly as you carried your combat boots out with you.

“I would say I have excelled given how boring your clothes are” Jeongin poked fun at you again while motioning for you to turn around so he could see the full outfit.

“Pretty” Seungmin smiled before looking down at his phone “Should we grab something on the way or order in?”.

“Order in” you suggested going into the kitchen to look what there may have been in the fridge to snack on.

“Easy, did you want a lift with us? Is Felix coming to get you?” Seungmin continued tapping away on his phone ordering whatever it was he wanted.

“He said he would pick me up” you called your head still in the fridge frowning because you were sure it had only been a few days since Jeongin had been shopping and there was hardly any food left. You could hear them bickering about how how much tteokbokki to order on the side so when the buzzer for the lobby doors sounded you knew you would need to answer it, pressing the button you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips when you saw Felix, who blew you a kiss, in the video screen. 

“I’ve ordered” Seungmin called down the hall going back to whatever he was doing before you left your room. A soft knock drew your attention straight back to the door which you tried not to wrench open too quickly.

“Shit baby” Felix whistled looking you up and down before stepping inside and pulling you into his arms to kiss you gently “you look too good”. You shyly buried your head into his shoulder, slapping him softly on his shoulder.

“Come in we're just waiting on some food so the boys don’t get annihilated again” you took his hand and led him down the hallway only to stop as soon as you entered the lounge room unsure if you should be holding Felix’s hand or if that was considered too childish.

“Hey Felix” Seungmin nodded, grabbing his game controller. “Want a match before we leave?” 

 “You mean you want me to beat you before we go out? Odd form of foreplay but whatever” Felix smirked, stepping around you and going over to the couch where Seungmin was already loading whatever game he wanted to play.

“Here I said I would give you a jacket” Jeongin smiled, handing you a black and white leather varsity jacket. You just smiled gratefully placing it on the dining table beside your purse not noticing that Felix kept sneaking glances at you or that Seungmin was fully taking advantage of that to take out Felix’s character earning a loud shout from him.

After eating the four of you left for the party your nerves start to wreak havoc with your thoughts as you squeeze into the back of the Uber between Jeongin and Felix, the latter wrapping his arm around your shoulders to keep you tucked against him. Pulling up to the house you could see just how many people were milling around in the front yard and on the porch you subconsciously wrapped Jeongin’s jacket around yourself tighter as you stepped from the car. You had been told by several of the guys that it was going to be a far larger party than the last one but you hadn’t really registered how much bigger until Felix wrapped his arms around you from behind kissing your ear.

“I’m with you, nothing will happen” the feeling of his warm breath on your sensitive skin made you shiver letting him take your hand and interlace your fingers to lead you inside to find your mutual friends.

“Finally Lix! Minho has already fucked off and I need a wingman for that set of twins I met last week” Hyunjin called over the thumping bass.

“Yeah Nah” Felix laughed, making it through the last line of people and moving you in front of him, his arms around your waist again.

“Fuck me you’re at another party! Minho owes me” Hyunjin cackled, not even looking disappointed that Felix turned him down.

“Woah, woah, woah. What the fuck is this?” Han spat a mouthful of beer out barely missing covering Changbin with a mist of beer.

“Hi guys” you waved, not sure if your voice was loud enough to be heard over the music. At Felix’s urging you moved between the guys and the coffee table to the couch that sat at the back of the room, Felix sat pulling you into his lap letting you get comfortable so you could see everyone, his hands finding their place on your hips.

“So this is new” Chan blinked, returning with another armful of beers from somewhere.

“Um yeah, it is” you smiled unsure of how to answer Chan since although you were together you hadn’t really announced anything.

“Felix” Changbin warned, sounding annoyed but also wary.

“Her roomies know and they are ok with it, so don’t start” Felix groaned.

“I can make my own decisions guys” you interrupted “and I am literally right here” you rolled your eyes as Seungmin returned with a plastic cup handing it to you.

“It’s lemonade and I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he grinned looking back towards some girl you assumed before disappearing into the crowd again.

“Congratulations are in order then” Han smiled tilting his bottle towards you.

Talking turned into taking the piss and the drunker the guys all got the funnier they were, Seungmin had slinked back to join you all looking far more disheveled than he needed to be with a fresh hickey on his neck and a deep blush that flared up as soon as Changbin mentioned it. Hyunjin disappeared and didn’t return because you assume he had managed to convince the twins to give him a shot without help and Minho finally appeared looking like the cat that got the cream. 

“You know” Minho started a conspiratorial smirk plastered on his face “I think if one of you knocked on the last bedroom door upstairs Hyunjin might need a hand” he put his hands up as though it was an innocent suggestion. “Just saying”. You could feel the rumble of laughter that rumbled through Felix’s ribcage into your back from where you sat on his lap as Han lept from the couch and took off with a tipsy crooked run that it was either going to be a good night for him or an utter disaster. 

You felt more and more comfortable the longer you sat listening to them talk and watching people come and go, you could still feel eyes burning into you now and then as though people couldn’t believe that you were sitting in Felix’s lap for so long with him seemingly completely happy with it. Finally you needed to move so you could pee, making your way through the throngs of drunk people you made your way upstairs to the bathroom avoiding as many couples hooking up in the hallways and behind closed doors as possible. Waiting behind a group of girls to use the bathroom you heard them gossiping. You tried to tune them out, frowning as one of them blew smoke all over you not even noticing you were there, you rolled your eyes as you watched them share a horrible neon pink drink that looked like it would glow in the dark, you still didn’t like parties.  When you returned downstairs to where you had left the guys you found there was only Jeongin still sitting and waiting for you looking a little worse for wear.

“Aw Innie, do I need to get you home?” you giggled patting his hair before he got up swaying slightly under the influence of the alcohol.

“Maybe” he laughed, grabbing your jacket and pulling you along until you were on the back porch almost causing the two of you to fall over the threshold. “I found her” he sang, holding your arm up like a prize. 

“Here I thought Seungmin was the puppy” Changbin roared laughing as Seungmin tried to kick his shins and failed miserably.

“Baby, did you want to go?” Felix asked, an unlit cigarette dangling from his fingers. 

“I think Innie needs to go home and by the looks of it Seung too” you sighed as Seungmin frowned, still pointing at Changbin. “You can stay, it's fine”.

“Nah if you leave I leave simple as that” Felix grinned tucking the cigarette behind Minho’s ear as he stepped around Chan to get to you, his fingertips sliding under the seam of your top. “Besides I’ll get us a cab”.

“Are you sure?” you pushed gently as he tucked his phone away “I don’t want to ruin your fun”.

“You will never ruin my fun baby” he smirked, pulling you against him and kissing you deeply to the cheers of the guys around you which only made you hide your face in his chest.

A/N: I'm sorry that it was a fairly slow chapter but thanks for sticking with me all the same I will try to update this more frequently but I'll have to see how I go. Love you all to bits xxx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar @bakedlilgoonie @shiy @is2cb97 @beautifulixr @skyhold-tara @army-stay-noel @skizzel-reblogs @facelesswrittes @animehideout @mrsseals16 @honey-pop @fawnpeaks @leeknowinggg @uno7 @seungminluv3 @obeythemasters @tanzen-ist-gold @thicccurls @juskz @3rachasninja @reiheis @partyparty-yah @leeknowyah @warren-thedarkangel @highlydestiny

[cassidy273]

Watching Shameless (US version) for the first time. I'll update this as I go.

Note: Please don't spoil anything. The most I know is a character named Debbie has a kid eventually.

Season 1 Episode 1: I'm sorry who the fuck names their child LIP-

Ian is giving off LGBTQIA vibes. Idk tho I might be wrong.

Did...did that child murder a cat?

LIAM IS SO CUTE OMG MY HEARTTTT

Kev and Veronica goddamn-

Why is Frank kinda...

Damn six updates before the fucking title screen.

GODDAMN FRANK AND FIONA ARE BOTH KINDA...

"You're almost nine, you're gonna have to start pulling your weight." made me CACKLE

THIS BITCH REALLY BROUGHT A WHOLE ASS BABY TO SHOW AND TELL-

I wanna execute those two guys who were saying that shit about Fiona at her job.

Midget Naked Witch Bending Over is a really good band name

Why is she going under the table I'm literally so confused-

WHAT THE FUCK

HOW THE FUCK DOES SCIENCE TURN YOU ON KAREN

Why was showing his bare ass necessary?

Lovely. I really wanted to see a guy looking at pictures of boobs today.

Those aren't boobs.

Wait omg my prediction was actually correct what the fuck-

Fiona's dress is literally so pretty omfg

WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP DISRESPECTING FIONA FIRST THOSE GUYS MAKE WEIRD COMMENTS ABOUT HER THEN SHE GETS FUCKING ROBBED

DON'T CALL HER A SKANK YOU DICK

Goddamn I forgot that guy's name but he punched that dick so I love him

I'm gonna take a shower I'll watch the rest after

I'm back y'all

The word 'knob-job' just rubs me the wrong way it just sounds so gross-

I was happy that the poor kid's name wasn't Lip but then I heard his name was Philip and that's even worse omg I feel so bad for him

Veronica is an ICON

WHY DID THEY START MAKING OUT WHAT THAT WAS LITERALLY SO RANDOM

Guys I don't think this show is very kid-friendly

BOTH OF THEM ARE ATTRACTIVE TO ME IDK WHO TO LOOK AT I THINK THIS IS WHAT A BI PANIC FEELS LIKE

THEY'RE NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE QUIET WHAT THE FUCK

I feel so bad for her she was almost there and then a fucking garda showed up

I'm gonna leave my laptop for a while sorry

I'm back again

Frank get out of the bar and take care of your kids omfg

He's such an asshole I love him-

OMGOMGOMGSTEVE'SBACK

Aw he's such a nice guy he's not bullying Philip because y'know his name is fucking Philip <3

I think Steve and Fiona might be the first straight ship I've liked in a long time-

Oh my god imagine being Ian like 'Hey, so um, I know I'm your brother and all, but I found your secret gay porn stash and also here's a blowjob from a girl who gave one to me. Enjoy!'

Karen's dad is such an asshole omg kiss your wife dude.

OH MY FUCKING GOD IF I WAS IAN I WOULD LITERALLY EXPLODE RIGHT THERE IMAGINE A GIRL IS SUCKING YOUR YOU KNOW WHAT UNDER THE TABLE AND THEN HER DAD PULLS BACK THE TABLECLOTH I WOULD ACTUALLY DIE

I'M SORRY IS HE TRYING TO BEAT UP THESE KIDS FOR HAVING SEXUAL ENCOUNTERS WITH HIS DAUGHTER

I'm actually dying oh my god that fucking greenscreen as Lip jumped out the window-

I love all of Veronica's outfits she slays so hard

Ew uncensored penis

HE BOUGHT HER A NEW WASHER STEVE IS SO NICE

"Hey! You honour thy father!" "GET FUCKED!" Karen is so iconic

Fiona going 'Please tell me you didn't get some girl pregnant' to her gay brother killed me

DEBBIE IS LITERALLY SO INNOCENT AND KIND I LOVE HER SO MUCH I HOPE SHE DOESN'T TURN OUT LIKE HER DAD-

Steve is the only straight man other than Robert Smith we need as a society.

Never mind. The phrase 'This whole city belongs to the Jennas, and I'm sick of them' sounded a lot like 'You're not like other girls' which is the worst compliment ever.

NEVER MIND X2 I WISH SOMEONE WOULD TALK TO ME LIKE THIS-

Omg I thought he left her for a second and I was so fucking pissed

Imagine you gave a bj to two different guys (WHO ARE BROTHERS) and the first guy's all like 'Hey, did you give my brother a BONER??'

WAIT HOW OLD IS IAN AND HOW OLD IS THE MARRIED SHOP GUY BECAUSE IF THEY'RE HAVING AN AFFAIR I GOTTA GOOGLE THIS

IAN'S FUCKING FIFTEEN WHAT THE ACTUAL DAMN DIDDLY FUCK

'He's done nothing to be sorry for' AYO DUDE

I love Frank so fucking much-

SHOTSSHOTSHOTSHOTSHOTSHOTSSHOTS

I literally forgot Carl existed I feel so bad

Is it just me, or does Lip kinda look like Shia LaBeouf when he played Stanley Yelnats?

AWWW STEVE IS SO NICE

Final Thoughts:

That was so good, and I'm probably gonna not watch it again for a few weeks like what normally happens with shows I like.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

More the Merrier: Part 6

Pairings: Henry Cavill x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers x Sharon Carter

Warnings: Swearing, Polyamory

Word Count: 4,922

A/N: This is what y'all chose @abaker74 & @supraveng. Why not both, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Watcha doing, baby girl?” Bucky asked as he walked into the library where you had been camped out for most of your day. You looked up from your laptop, smiled, and shrugged.

“Looking at baby names.”

“Oooo, do share.” He said, excitedly as he laid down on the chaise lounge chair at your feet.

“I haven’t found many I like yet.” You confessed as you turned the screen toward him and passed off the machine. “So I wrote a post on one of the mommy websites to ask for help.”

“Let’s see what we have so far anyways. Maybe I can help.” You nodded as he sat up and turned so that he was sitting beside you. He looked down the short list and smiled.

“I love Ivy and Hazel.” He said as he pointed to the third and fifth names on the girls list. “Oooo, Brenna, that’s pretty. So is Heidi. And I also like Rowan and Ryder for boys.”

“But none of them sound perfect to me.” You sighed as you ran your hand over you 15 week along bump.

“I know what you mean.” He huffed as he handed you back the laptop. “But the good thing is, we have time. Lots of time to throw names around and figure out the perfect names for them. We also don’t have to have names picked out until we meet them, too. We can come up with a list and read it out as we look at our babies and see which one feels right then.”

“Really?” You asked, hopefully. 

“Really, really.” He chuckled as he laid down on the chair so his head was on your lap and he was facing your belly. “Hi babies. It’s your daddy.” You smiled and set your laptop on the side table as he placed his hand on your bump. “Work was stressful today. Dealt with a lot of idiots I wanted to punch in the face.”

“Bucky!” You laughed as you loosened the bun he had his hair in so you could run your fingers through his wavy hair. 

“What, it’s true!” He chuckled as he shifted his head on your thigh to get more comfortable. “I didn’t punch anyone so you two should be proud of me. I just bit my tongue and got my work done. Stocks are kinda boring but I love my job. It’s wouldn’t trade it for the world. I can’t wait to meet you two, ya know that? Can’t wait to hold you, and kiss you, and spend every waking moment loving you with all my heart. You two are already perfect and nothing you will ever say or do will change my mind on that one. I love you.” A tear fell on your chest as he leaned forward and gave each side of your bump a kiss before sitting up to kiss you as well.

“I love you.” You whispered against his lips, causing him to smile and kiss you again. 

“I love you, too, baby girl.” 

———— 

“Y’all are not gunna believe this.” Cara chuckled as she walked into your exam room for your next appointment. She held up two sheets of paper with small writing on them and shook her head. “I had them run the DNA twice because I didn’t believe it myself.”

“Who’s the father?” Henry asked as he and Bucky both squeezed your hands, while Natasha’s hand tightened on your thigh. 

“Both of you.” She said as handed you the papers with a smile. “Both of your DNA showed up in (Y/N)’s sample. Both of you fathered a baby. You are both the fathers.” Your jaw dropped and the room got pin drop silent as you all processed the news.

“Holy shit!” Nat finally exclaimed as she turned to look at the three stunned faces behind her. “That’s amazing!”

“We can do another test when the babies are born to find out who fathered which baby. Now, while you guys process, do we want to find out the genders?” You nodded your head and squeezed the guys hands before letting go so you could lay down on the skinny table. You looked up at the still stunned faces of the two men in your life and you couldn’t help but smile as you looked at Nat while lifting your shirt.

“I think she broke them.”

“I think so, too.” She said as she gently pushed Bucky out of her way and took a hold of your hand. “You ready?”

“Yea.” You breathed with a nod as Cara squirted the jelly on your belly. You took a deep breath and exhaled through your nose as the first heartbeat filled the room.

“Alright, baby A is going to be… a girl!” Cara started as she took her measurements and started printing out sonograms for you. “Yay! Alright and baby B is… oh, come on baby B… wait… Okay there we go! Baby B is also a girl!” Tears welled in your eyes and you covered your mouth with your free hand as Natasha cheered and squeezed your hand while both guys stumbled back into the walls of the room.

“We’re having girls.” Natasha cooed as she reached up to cup your jaw in her free hand with tears in her eyes.

“Oh, we are so fucked.” Bucky finally chuckled as he looked over at Henry. “You good?”

“Girls.” Henry mouthed as he finally met your eyes with a few tears falling down his cheeks. You smiled and reached out for his hand. He stumbled forward and clasped your hand in his at the same time that Bucky leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Congrats, lil mama.” Bucky whispered as you turned toward him, letting him give you a chaste kiss. “Girls.”

“Both girls look fantastic.” Cara said as she held out the sonograms to Natasha with a smile. “Congratulations to you all. This is so exciting!”

“We’re having girls.” You stated with a nod and a breathtaking smile as you finished wiping of your belly while sitting up.

“You’re having girls.” Cara repeated as she paused at the door to turn back to look at you with a smile. “I’ll see you again in four weeks, alright?” You nodded your head and went to stand up, but three sets of hands shot out to help you.

“Careful, lil mama.”

“Easy.”

“You alright?”

“You three are going to be impossible now.” You laughed as you grabbed your purse off the chair and slung it over your shoulder, only for it to be taken away from you by Natasha. “Really?”

“Let’s go get lunch to celebrate.” She said, ignoring your protests as she headed to the scheduler to get your next appointment scheduled. “What sounds good to you, (Y/N)?”

“Tacos.” You sighed with a smile as you let Bucky and Henry each take a hand and lace your fingers with yours. 

“Tacos it is.” Nat agreed with a smile as she glance over her shoulder at you. “That work for you guys?”

“Whatever lil mama wants, lil mama gets.” Bucky said as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“I’m never getting rid of that nickname, am I?” You sighed as you followed Nat out the door, only to come to a dead stop behind her to avoid running into her. You looked up at the couple in the waiting room and gasped.

“Natasha.” Steve breathed as he stood up, his eyes darting around the members of your family and finally to your belly. “Oh! Umm… congratulations…”

“Don’t.” Henry said as he let go of your hand to wrap his arm around Nat’s shoulders to lead her out of the doctor’s office. “Don’t bother. Goodbye, Steve.” You stepped into Bucky’s side and looked down away from the couple as your partner led you out of the office behind your other partners. Once you were out of the building, Natasha shook her head and took a deep breath before looking back at you with a smile. “Let’s go get you and our girls your tacos, solnyshka.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You were supposed to be getting ready for a gala. You knew it, your family was doing it. Instead, you were laying in bed, in your maternity underwear, sobbing over the fact that you couldn’t get into your gown. 

“Solnyshka, are you… my love, what!? What is it?!”

“I can’t get in my dress!” You sobbed as Natasha, looking as gorgeous as ever crouched down in front of you and gently pushed your curled hair off your face.

“Oh, my love. Why didn’t you come get me?”

“I couldn’t make it farther than the bed. My feet hurt in heels!”

“Oh, baby.” She cooed as she carefully help you sit up. “Stay there for me.” She said as she kissed your forehead and headed into your ensuite bathroom to get a wash cloth. You sniffled and ran your hand over your 32 week along bump, getting little bumps back from both of your girls. “OK, let’s see what we can do, shall we?”

“Hey, we’re gunna be late!” Bucky called out down the hall as Nat gently grabbed your chin and started washing your make up off to start over.

“Then we’re late, who cares!” She called back before smiling at you. “Right?” You nodded your head and sniffed again as Bucky came into your room to see what was going on. “Take those heels off for me, Bucky.” Nat directed as she headed into your bathroom and got some basic make up for you to wear.

“Hey what’s the hold… what’s going on?” Henry asked as he came in and bee-lined for you. “You okay, my darling?”

“I couldn’t get in my dress.”

“So we had a bit of a melt down.” Nat supplied for you with a warm smile. “Who cares if we are a little late, right? As long as we are comfortable. One of you go into her closet and find a pair of black flats while I touch her up.”

“I got it.” Bucky said as he got up and headed into your walk-in. 

“Where’s your dress, darling?” Henry asked as he rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“In the bathroom.” He nodded and got up to go get it as Nat applied some waterproof eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. She dusted some powder across your cheeks to hide the redness and stepped back with a smile. 

“There. Now to fluff up these curls and we’ll get you in the dress, alright?” You nodded as she fixed your hair and then stood up to step into your off shoulder, form fitting, mermaid flare bottom gown. It fit like a glove since you had bought it just the day before so that it would and once Bucky dropped your shoes down for you to step into, you were ready to go. “There we  go. Perfect in every way.”

“Thank you.” You sniffled as tears welled in your eyes again, which was your new normal, but Nat just waved you off.

“Nope. You didn’t need my help you were already done. Now let’s go.” With a nod, you took her offered hand and headed out of your room to go to the gala. Bucky sat next to you in the town car and went out of his way to make you smile again with lame dad jokes so that when you finally got to the gala, you were in a much better mood than you had been 20 minutes prior. 

“Come on, dove.” Henry said the moment you stepped into the MOMA where that gala was being held. “Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”

“You are always hungry, my love.” You teased as you let him lead you to the table you were assigned to so he could get you off your feet for a bit.

“I’m a growing boy, what can I say?” He chuckled as he glanced over at Bucky and Natasha, who were making their customary rounds. 

“They’ll be at that for a while.” You told him as you got comfortable in your spot. “And they won’t start serving food food for a while now.”

“Then I’ll go hunt us down some appetizers.” He said with a wink as he got up to do just that. You smiled when he stopped a couple feet away from you and back tracked so he could lean down to give you a chaste kiss. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” You cooed back as he shot you a wink before leaving to go find you some food. You weren’t left alone for long.

“(Y/N)…” Steve said as he slipped into Henry’s seat, looking out of place in his rumpled suit. “I fucked up.”

“Steve?”

“I need you to talk to Natasha for me.” He muttered hurriedly. “I need you to talk to her and tell her I made a grave mistake.”

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because I did.” He barked, making you jump and causing the people closest to you to turn to look at the pair of you. “I messed up royally. I never should have left.”

“Steve, what is going on?”

“Sharon is a bitch.” He went on as he pulled at his already loose tie and undid the top button of his shirt. “I didn’t see it. Fuck, how could I not see it.”

“Steve, you need to talk to Natasha yourself…”

“She won’t listen.” He continued as he shook his head. “I need her to listen. She listens to you…”

“Let me just go get her…” You said as you pushed yourself to your feet and a splash of water hit the tops of your feet and soaked your dress. You looked down, in shock just as Henry came up behind you with a small plate of food for each of you.

“Darling?”

“My water just broke.” You gasped as you looked up at him with wide eyes. He threw the plates on the table and swept you off your feet, not even noticing Steve sitting there as he searched the room for his girlfriend and her husband. Once he found them, he carried you over and used your legs to bump them in the back. “My water broke.” You told them when they turned around, and Henry simply turned away and walked out of the MOMA to get a cab. Bucky went flying by and raced down the stairs to grab a cab while Nat took your hand and walked with you and Henry. 

“You OK, solnyshka?” She asked as she glanced at you before looking back down at her feet so she didn’t trip in her long dress and heels.

“I can walk, you know.”

“Not on my watch.” Henry huffed as he set you down in the waiting cab. You scooted into the middle beside Bucky as Natasha got in behind you and Henry got in the front seat and told the driver to take you to Lennox Hill.

“Steve was there.” You sighed as you looked down at the bottom of your ruined dress and shoes. “He said he made a mistake…”

“That was his choice.” Natasha said with a shrug and she pulled your hand into her lap and started to worry your fingers. “He made his bed and now he needs to lie in it.”

“Natasha…”

“I’m not having this conversation right now.” She interrupted Bucky with a shake of her head as she leaned forward to see around you. “Right now, our babies are coming into this world and I will not have a dark cloud over our heads while that happens. Am I understood?”

“We’re not done having this conversation.” He said as he sat back in his spot, put his hand on your thigh, and started bouncing his knee.

“Fine. Just not now.” She conceded with a nod of her head as the cab pulled up to the hospital’s ER door. You all piled out and Bucky swept you into his arms this time as a cramp like feeling rolled through your bump and back.

“Well this is gunna be fun.” You mumbled to yourself as Natasha headed to the desk to request a private, signature birthing suite that you knew was going to cost an arm and a leg just by the sound of its name. Once Bucky’s black AmEx was produced when you were told you’d have to pay out of pocket for the room, the nurses seem to be a lot more agreeable and willing to move mountains to get you up to the private floor of the hospital’s maternity wing. 

“What about our bags?” You asked as you were placed in a wheelchair and led to the elevators. “We didn’t even pack them yet.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll take care of it.” Nat soothed as she held one hand while Henry pushed your wheelchair and Bucky held the other hand. Once you made it to the massive room you’d be giving birth in, you were given a nice gown that looked like a wrap dress in a pale pink color. Henry helped you out of your gala gown and undies and into your hospital gown while Natasha called your house keeper and asked her to grab a long list of things from the house to make you all comfortable for a few days while Bucky mean mugged the staff that were bustling around the room to get you situated. 

“Alright, I hear we’re having some babies tonight.” Cara said as she strolled into the room. You looked up at her with your brow raised as she pulled on a pair of gloves and shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood. Another one of my patients is also here. So let’s get this party started!”

“So much energy.” You giggled as yet another small contraction lit you up as you got on to the queen sized hospital bed that was in your room. 

“Yep. Suck some of that from me now, because we’re in for a long night!”

————

When Cara said it was going to be a long night, you didn’t believe her. However, your girls were as stubborn as their fathers. You were sure that if you weren’t rich, you would have been sent home to labor at home at one point, but one look from Natasha made the nurse that suggested it go running.

Thirteen hours later, it was decided that you were to get an epidural (which, let’s be honest, you were totally OK with this development after hours of sitting at 4 centimeters) and pitocin to speed things along. And finally, finally, at hour twenty-six, it was time to push.

“You got this baby.” Bucky said softly in your ear as he stood on one side and Henry on the other, holding your hands as you pushed with everything you had. Natasha stood at the foot of the bed behind the nurses and Cara with tears in her eyes and you had only a moment to wish that you had more sides and hands so she could be part of this as well. 

“Alright on the next contraction, we need one more big push to get this first girl out.” Cara said as you took a moment to catch your breath. You nodded and panted and gripped the guys hands tighter and as the next contraction hit, you pushed with everything you had left. “That’s it! That’s it, (Y/N), perfect!”

“Keep going, my love.” Henry said as he leaned away from you to watch the miracle that was happening. You felt like you were completely dying for a few moments before the first cry rang out in the hospital room. “You did it!”

“Dads who’s cutting this cord?” Cara asked as your first daughter was placed on your bare chest.

“You go. I got the next one.” Henry said to Bucky as he looked at the little angel as you burst into tears of joy. “Oh, she’s perfect, my love.”

“Catch your breath, we’ve got one more.” Cara said as Bucky cut the cord, while Natasha started taking photos with her phone of the daughter in your arms. After a few moments with her, she was taken by the nurses because she’d have to go to the NICU like her sister, who was ready to join the world. “Alright, (Y/N). One more good push and they are both out. You can do it.”

“Come on, lil mama. You got this.” With a nod, you grabbed Bucky’s hand and pushed with the remaining energy you had left, which was all you needed because your second daughter slipped out like butter. “Good girl.” Bucky cooed as your second daughter was put on your chest. “Such a good girl.”

“I know their names.” You breathed with tears in your eyes as you looked up at Bucky with a smile. “I know.”

“Tell me.”

“Magnolia was first. And this is Meadow.”

“Those are perfect names.” Bucky said as he nodded and wiped the tears from his eyes. “That’s Magnolia and this is Meadow.” He said loud enough for Natasha and Henry to hear. They both instantly teared up and nodded, agreeing with you the perfect names for their perfect girls. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Hey, my love.” Henry said softly as he came into your private NICU room for his 24 hour shift with you a week after Magnolia and Meadow were born. You looked up from Meadow’s incubator and smiled, tiredly before calling him over with a wave of your hand.

“She’s got her eyes open, look.” He dropped his school bag and the duffel Nat sent with him of a change of clothes for you (because you refused to leave the hospital without your babies) and headed over to the incubator his daughter was in.

“Hi beautiful girl.” He cooed as he looked down at the little girl who absolutely shared his DNA and smiled. “God, I missed you. I can’t wait for you to come home.”

“Dr. Kast says she thinks it’ll only be another two or three weeks before we can take them home.” You told him hopefully as you grabbed the bottle of hand sanitizer and held it out to him. “Want to hold her?”

“Absolutely!” He said as he quickly took off his shirt before he went over to wash his hands in the sink, then used the hand sanitizer to make sure he was clean enough to hold his daughter. “Where’s Maggie?”

“It’s her turn for a hearing test.” You told him as you sat down in the rocking chair that had been your bed for the past 7 days and yawned. “Meadow had her’s first thing this morning and passed with flying colors.”

“Of course she did because she’s perfect.” He said as he expertly took Meadow out of the incubator and walked over to the other rocking chair. “Hello my love.”

“So what have I missed today?” You asked as you watched your significant other and one of the little loves of your life together. You stood up and grabbed your phone from the diaper bag to take a few photos while Henry sighed.

“Natasha and Bucky spend half their days fighting right now.”

“About what?”

“Steve.” He sighed with a shake of his head as he started to rock himself back and forth. “Tasha thinks he made his bed and now he has to sleep in it, while Bucky thinks he deserves to be at least heard out.”

“Oh lord.” You groaned as the nurse for your room, Tabitha, brought Magnolia back in.

“She passed!”

“Thank God.” You cheered as you got up, washed your hands with sanitizer, and took Maggie out of her incubator. “That makes two perfect babies, huh little girl?”

“That they are.” Tabitha smiled before she excused herself from the room to give you your space. 

“I’ll talk to her.” You told Henry as you sat back down in your rocker and started to rock back and forth until it was time to feed your daughters.

“Sweetheart… you need to come home.”

“No, I need to be with my babies.” You said as you shook your head and looked up at him. “Henry…”

“I know, my love. I know.” He remarked. “But even just for a couple hours to shower and get something to eat other than hospital food and take away.”

“Henry…”

“Alright, my love.” He exhaled with a small nod. “I had to try, didn’t I?”

“I appreciate it, my love. I really do. But I can’t leave them. Even going to the bathroom to shower makes me anxious.”

“That’s what you have us here for.” He reminded you with a smile. “Alright, I won’t ask again. Now, what do you want to do about lunch?”

——

“Hey lil mama.” Bucky called out as he walked into the NICU room with your change of clothes.

“You have perfect timing.” You said as you headed out of the bathroom in a large beach towel and a diaper. “I was just going to throw on yesterdays stuff.”

“Nope. Fresh clothes for you.” He said as he passed you the bag from Natasha. You got dressed quickly in yoga pants and a nursing tank top and came out of the little bathroom with your hair wrapped in a towel.

“Much better.” You sighed as you sat down in your rocking chair and tucked your feet up under you. “So, what did I miss?”

“Therapy.” He announced as he looked up from Magnolia’s incubator with his eyebrow raised. “That’s twice in a row, lil mama.”

“I know.” You sighed as you took down your hair and ran your fingers through the wet strands. “It was just feeding time and I can’t really miss that.”

“But you can.” He breathed as he came over and crouched down in front of you. “(Y/N), you live with depression, anxiety, and PTSD from what your parents did to you. You can’t slack on therapy.”

“Bucky…”

“So I got you an appointment for tomorrow at noon.” He continued over you with a smile.

“Bucky…”

“And it’s a Telehealth appointment so you can do it right here in this room. And if the babies are still in the NICU in two weeks, we’ll set up another Telehealth appointment so you aren’t missing any more appointments. You are too important to skimp out on your mental health, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed with a nod as you leaned forward to give him a chaste kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, lil mama.”

“You’re impossible.”

——

“You and I need to talk.” Natasha sighed as she walked into the NICU room on day six of week four.

“We’re going home tomorrow.” You interrupted her with a giant smile that made her come to a dead stop.

“What!?”

“We’re going home tomorrow.” You repeated as you held Magnolia so she could finish her breakfast. “Dr. Kast says both girls are ready to be NICU graduates and she’ll discharge them tomorrow.”

“That’s wonderful!” Natasha squealed as she headed over to give you a kiss. You cupped her cheek with your free hand and sighed when she pulled away. “Oh, I can’t wait to have you three home already. It’s been the longest month of my life!”

“Sorry, I interrupted you. What did you need to talk about?” You asked as you finished nursing Magnolia and handed her off for Natasha to burp so you could feed her sister. 

“I had dinner with Steve.”

“Oh yea?” You asked with a smile because you already knew this from Henry and Bucky. “How’d that go?”

“Wait, you’re not mad?” She asked, a little stunned.

“Of course I’m not mad, love.” You giggled as you sat back down in your chair and unhooked your nursing tank. “You still love him?” She was quiet for a few moments until you looked up at her. Then and only then did she nod subtly. “OK, so what’s the problem?”

“What if I let him back into our life and he leaves again? What if he hurts us all again in coming back? What if he meets another Sharon and she’s worse to us than the last one was?”

“Tasha… that’s just a risk you have to take, don’t you?” You interrupted before she could go on a tangent. She looked up from Magnolia’s smiling face with the hint of tears in her eyes and you smiled softly. “Solnyshka, love is all about risk, right? Risk of being hurt, left, abused, unloved in return. But you didn’t see Steve the night I went into labor. He was a complete wreck. He’s become a shell of the man that he was thanks to Sharon. And I think he has learned from his mistake and won’t make it again. And to be honest, I don’t think he would have left us in Australia had it not been for Sharon pulling the strings.”

“You don’t?”

“No. Not one bit.” She sat back in her chair and looked back down at her daughter with a shake of her head.

“I was so mad at him…”

“Was.” You pointed out as Meadow finished eating. She looked up at you again as you maneuvered her onto your chest and gently pat her back. “You said ‘was’ so mad. You’re not mad anymore.”

“No.” She admitted with a shake of her head. “No, I’m not.”

“Then Steve comes home.” With a heavy sigh, she nodded her head and looked back down at her daughter.

“Steve comes home.”

Epilogue

[kutputli]

I have been bullied, outright bullied, I say, into finally watching Interview with the Vampire. Apparently Delhi boy Arun is the way to persuade me over my gore squick.

So three years late and several hours after the train has passed - my episode by episode live-blog. (These will probably be shallow reactions because I know all the meaty meta and analysis has already been written. I remember reading it back when I was an innocent parasocial of your gifsets.) Also, I am coming into this with a series of biases; I've been completely spoiled by way of seeing gifs, reading meta and going through the book summaries. This is also not my genre; I don't enjoy gothic or horror, I was never into the vampire mystique, and I learned vampire lore via Buffy and Angel fandoms back when. So I am predisposed to watch this for the specific angle of how to intersect with my friends' interest in the characters. Disclaimers out of the way...

Season 1 Episode 1 - Mmmm, I see what people say about the art direction. This is a very very beautiful show. Very deliberately staged historicity, very artfully selected colour palattes and design. I imagine watching it on a big TV would be rewarding (I'm on a laptop.) But actually, more than the quality of the design, I think what I am enjoying is the quality of the actors. Because I have been forewarned, I realise all the cast is serious scenery chewing theatre rats. But the energy they bring to their scene work is palpable even through the screen.

Louis for instance, is oddly not beautiful. I can think of several other actors who would look far more physically arresting. To be frank, I don't see what Lestat saw in him, that moment did not have an impact on me. But what Louis is, because of Jacob, is intensely watchable. He brings such commitment to the character that my admiration for the actor translates into sympathy for the character. And of course, the Theatre Voice. Absolutely A+ choice to choose Shakespeare trained actors to deliver what I imagine must be quotes from Anne Rice's original florid prose?

It's a dangerous risk to use that sort of of heightened textual narration, which can work on a page, to sit against the visuals we are already seeing. I remember how Good Omens season 1 did so much quoting from the book to disasterously flat effect. But it works here, and that is, I think, because Jacob delivers the lines with so much integrity to bringing us back to the Dubai penthouse as we watch the New Orleans scenes.

I really enjoyed Daniel Molloy, who I remember finding rather delightful in the gifs even before we all knew his importance and where he was headed. I love grumpy irascible characters and he's lovely at being surly and sardonic. And physically deteriorating and mundane and ordinary, which makes him such a good foil to -

my precious little murderboy Armand! I really do want to watch things unspoiled, so I carry some regret about going into this so very equipped with hindsight. But I did giggle as the very first vampiric contact we see is a cup of tea being placed by Unnamed Brown Guy hand in front of Daniel. That's the love of your life, dude! Give or take a few divorces and deaths. I was watching Assad very closely to see what choices he was making - if there were any clues to pick up on. He was pretty stoic during the hand burning.

But that silent service thing going on - that's definitely something that packs more of a punch if you imagine him learning that from childhood as a human. I've got all kinds of headcanons going on for him, which I've been discussing with @quark4561 and I think his backstory can be a heartbreaking foil to Louis's, in terms of service, and sex work, and segregation.

Speaking of race, I know much of the fandom adores Lestat, but I thought the great thing about casting Sam Reid, is that he isn't the kind of drop dead gorgeous version that Tom Cruise might have been (never seen the film) and so he comes across right from the very beginning as ordinary except for the priviledge of his power. We know already that his power is vampirism, but because of the casting choices, it also becomes the power of whiteness. Lestat isn't some idealised homosexual awakening for Louis, or at least, that wasn't the way I read it. Lestat uses money, whiteness, physical force and vampirical power to get to Louis, and that sets their relationship on a dark, abusive path from the get-go.

In contrast to this was Louis's relationship to Lily. I loved her and the gentleness of their bond. The needless cruelty of Lestat killing her (thankfully offstage, I do not need to see Black women murdered any more), hammers in that this is a person who is selfish and cruel (beyond the ordinary carnivorous murders that one expects of the vampiric genre).

I'm not sure I understood why Louis's brother killed himself. Were we supposed to believe Lestat fucked with his mind? Were the voices he heard a sign of suicidal delusions?

But seeing both of them hoofing together - and I am so glad we didn't see Lestat lurking about then, it was a Black wedding and needed to be closed to the community - was so moving. It made me feel Louis' love for Paul more than his monologue narration. I'm not Black or USAmerican, but I did feel that the Black experience of these characters was respected and integrated into the storytelling choices, from writing to casting to design to cinematography, in a way that really worked for me.

I'm looking forward to spending time with Louis and his assistant, and the grumpy old fart interviewing them.