#and when I came home today they had already torn off one of the plastic port covers!!!

[curiosityschild]

I just solved a mystery. For weeks I've been wondering why one of my bird feeders empties out literally overnight. I fill it up one evening and I come home the next evening and it's empty. I figured it probably wasn't the squirrels because it's a weight activated anti squirrel feeder. Plus the squirrels are VERY bold. When I've had them eating out of bird feeders before I can easily catch them in the act. They are very obvious and I have not seen them this time. Maybe the deer? I caught the deer eating out of the bird feeders last year so I moved the feeders a bit higher up and that solved that problem. So I moved this one a bit higher still, wayyy higher than a deer could ever reach but it still kept happening!

So I figured the birds were just hungry. Fine.

But today I realized it was someone who was never even on my suspect list. The chipmunks. I came home from work and caught one halfway down the tree with it's cheeks the size of golf balls. I can't believe it. They're not heavy enough to close the ports on the feeder I guess. Hopefully a baffle works on chipmunks because I don't know how else to stop them.

[spiridakos]

must be pretty lucky

trying my hand at some fic-writing after like two years of writing absolutely nothing. shared this over on twitter yesterday, so i thought i’d share it here as well. enjoy?

-----

Molly’s is overwhelmingly crowded for a Tuesday night.

There’s no Blackhawk’s game to explain the influx of people surrounding the bar and football season won’t start for another six months, but it’s still busier than she expected to find the local dive bar on a random and otherwise typical weekday. 

And after the case they’d caught late last week, she picked Molly’s solely for the reason that it’s usually occupied by faces she knew, wandering eyes that understand her line of work and wouldn’t press her for details about why she looked like she hadn’t slept in four days.

(She hadn’t, but she knows no one here is going to ask the reason for the dark circles under her eyes.)

And while many faces remained familiar, there were plenty of profiles she didn’t know that were only adding to the anxiety and stress of the case Intelligence had finally closed today. But despite the swarm of people surrounding her and the other patrons walking in and filling in the booths and tables and barstools at the bar, laughing and drinking and having a good time, she can’t help but feel a little lost and alone in the booth she currently occupies by herself. 

Her second bottle of beer had already joined her first - barren and off to the side. The cold and frosted glass had already run dry and the paper label had been torn off into tiny pieces, scattered across the table she occupies alone. It’s one of those weird habits she’s had since she was a kid when she was anxious or stressed or scared. She remembers when she’d be in the kitchen trying to finish her homework or dinner when her father would come through the front door, unruly and disruptive. He’d start with her mother - he always did, rattling on and on about something that was out of place in the house or how dinner wasn’t cooked properly. But, if she looked at him in a way he didn’t like or she tried to speak up, he’d get after her and she’d learned the hard way that the bruises he left on her pale skin didn’t fade easily. So, she’d sit there with a bottle of water and pick at the paper label wrapped around the plastic and do her best to try and pretend that she didn’t exist as she drowned out the screams that echoed around her.

She hated cases that involved abusive homes, despised that they dug up all of her old wounds and cut them open with a sharp knife and that her dark and cloudy past always came up bubbling to the surface, forcing her to relive those haunting days over and over and over again while the hazy memories flashed before her eyes.

This case was brutal and despite finishing the paperwork a few hours ago, she knew it was going to stay with her for weeks - if not months - to come.

A shadow catches her vision, pulling her out of the daze she’s got herself into and it’s quickly followed by a third bottle of beer being carefully placed in front of her. Along with the beer comes the company of a second body sliding into the seat opposite her. He smiles at her softly, green eyes gentle and curious, watching as she sips from her new bottle while his stays firm in his grip. 

“Are you from Tennessee?” 

Her eyebrows furrow together. “Excuse me?”

“Cause you’re the only ten I see,” he says with a smirk in her direction, a wink following seconds later.

“Jesus Christ,” she slips out under her breath. 

“You love it,” Jay mumbles back at her while finally sipping from his own beer bottle that was identical to hers. “You love me.”

“Do I?”

“You have to,” he smiles, bright and wide - the same exact smile she’d fallen in love with. “I’m your husband.”

“I don’t remember saying anything about having to love your bad pick up lines in my vows.”

“Ah,” he says with bright eyes. “Me and my bad pick up lines are a package deal, I’m afraid.”

Hailey laughs softly, “Oh, is that so?”

“It is,” he says. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“Billions of people on this planet and I love you,” she hums with a small laugh, the lip of the bottle hovering below her lips. “I must be pretty lucky.” 

“I’d say you you hit the jackpot.”

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Dad!Mob!Tom Holland x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x reader, Parker Holland x Charlotte Owens

-Warnings: Language, Blood, Death, Fighting

-Words: 3.6K

Author note: I really love this chapter. I love all the comments and would appreciate nice constructive criticism (please don't butcher my work lol) if you want. Feel free to leave in the comments or message me directly your feelings while reading the chapter :))

Chapter 3: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

Word: 3.6K

“Haz are you okay mate?” Tom asked, seeing Haz freak out, they were about to land at Heathrow, on their way back from Dublin.

“No, I just heard from my neighbor that Henry never came home last night. With everything that happened yesterday, I’m just worried. I hope he is not lying in a ditch somewhere.” Harrison explained.

“He probably crashed at ours, everything will be ok.” You said as you comforted Haz. Oh boy, were you wrong.

Back at home, Parker awoke to his impending death once you and Tom, his parents’, find out what happened to their beautiful mansion. One party did all this damage. The curtains were torn down, there was red party cups everywhere and all the liquor bottles were displayed on the table. One amazingly epic party did all that.

“Bloody hell! That’s it I’m dead. I’m dead. I will never be allowed to leave this house ever again.” Parker said to himself. Picking up his phone he noticed 4 missed calls from you. Each one had a message and if there was one thing he knew about you is that you only left more harsh and frantic voice messages the more you called.

He only played the most recent one, you sounded really peeved “PARKER JACKSON HOLLAND! Please call me, I’m worried about you. I can’t get in touch with the staff either. I will be home in 20 mins, you better have a good fucking explanation for everything.” Parker’s eyes nearly flew out of his head when he saw that was sent 15 mins ago. Any moment now he would hear the Rolls pulling into the driveway.

The poor kid could only move so fast, he quickly gathered the liquor bottles and threw them into a plastic trash bag along with all the red solo cups that seem to be multiplying. All the meanwhile corralling all the squatters, from last night, who crashed there. He found some people by the pool and others passed out in the dining room. Running like a madman through the house, he caught a glimpse of what would be the reason for his demise. The door to Tom’s office was open. He swore to god he locked it, someone must’ve broken in. They could’ve taken anything, all the information about the mob was stored in that one tastefully decorated room. Parker quickly shut the door and hoped nothing would happen, he couldn’t live with himself if this one stupid party cost his family their livelihood.

“Rosie? Henry? Where are you guys? Mum and dad will be home any minute, I need your help.” Parker called out throughout the house. He didn’t expect Rosie to show up because of their fight last night, but where the fuck was Henry.

You and Tom pulled up along with Harrison in the black Rolls Royce, coming to a screeching halt. You all walked along the cobble stone path to the two large, intimidating front doors. You all simultaneously freaked out when you saw the door was ajar. Tom and Haz pulled out their guns and made it a priority to keep you safe by shoving you behind them. You all had no idea what you could be walking into.

Tom whispered to Haz to split up, Haz took the East Wing while Tom checked the main rooms. Rounding the corner he could her footsteps.

“Darling, stay behind me. I don’t want you getting hurt,” Tom whispered and you nodded in response.

“On the count of 3. 1, 2, 3,” Tom screamed as he jumped out, holding his gun straight ahead. He found his son disheveled, carrying grocery bags filled with empty beer cans and liquor bottles.

“DON’T SHOOT! DON’T SHOOT! Holy fuck! Dad is that you?” Parker screamed, dropping the bags to the ground, glass shattering and raising his hand up in innocence. Scared for his life her quickly caught his breath when he realized who it was.

“Parker, what the hell? Why the fuck was the door opened…. wait? Did you have a party!?!” Tom thundered as he realized what his son did. His voice gradually growing more furious. Parker just stood there with a shameful look on his face.

“Mum, dad. How was Dublin?” Parker sneaked to quickly change the subject.

“Don’t try to get out this, explain now!” You scolded, just as furious as Tom

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did it, I just needed to blow off steam.” “What the fuck do you think a sorry is going to do? I run a fucking mob, Parker. Are you a fucking idiot? Parker, for fucks sake, anyone could have stolen some information from my office or gotten into the gun room. What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I’m not that much of a div, I locked your office and I don’t know,” Parker explained.

“You’re not as dumb as I thought. Hope you were smart enough to lock the liquor cellar too,” Tom concluded.

“Yeah…about that,” Parker mumbled as Tom ran off to his liquor room. A loud clash and curse sounded throughout the house when he laid his eyes on his ransacked priceless collection.

“Mum, say something?” Parker pleaded with you as you just stood there in silence.

“2 months. You’re grounded for 2 months. No dates or parties, just school and home. I don’t think you understand how lucky you are that nothing serious happened here.” You said, your voice drenched with disappointment. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking about what dad and you asked me and —” Parker whispered as he was soon cut off by Haz walking in.

“Did you find Henry?” Haz interrupted.

“No, I’m going to check upstairs. Will you check on Tom?” Harrison nodded as you ascended the staircase. Making your way through the halls, coming upon Rosie’s room.

“Roo, honey you awake?” You said walking into Rosie’s room

“AHHHH! Oh my fucking god! Rosie!” You screamed at the sight in front of you. Your sweet, slightly bad tempered daughter asleep with a boy in her bed.

“Darling? You alright?” Tom yelled from downstairs after hearing your scream.

“Mum, what are you doing here?” Rosie exclaimed frantically.

“Hi, Y/N.” Henry whispered, praying he wasn’t going to be berated. You were a mother figure to him after his own mother left his father and never looked back. “This is my house and hi Henry. What the fuck is Henry doing here in you bed? What the fuck are you doing here?” You questioned bouncing between the two of them to get some answers.

“I can explain. But, firstly are you gonna tell dad?” Rosie inquired.

“The fact that he is already fuming downstairs, no. Not right now. And please explain, you have 5 seconds, but first you need to get Henry out of here.”

“Thank you mom, I just don’t —.“

“Ehh, eh, eh! Shut it, I’ll deal with you later,” you barked.

“Henry, I suggest you take the window and your dad is looking for you,” you said.

“Shit! Thanks Y/N… I mean Mrs. Holland” Henry said as you shot him a glare.

The moment Henry was in the clear, Tom barged in with his gun in hand. Someone needs to tell this man to put it down. All morning he has been traumatically scarring his kids for life, first with Parker and now Rosie.

“What? Is everyone all right? I heard a scream.” Tom exclaimed out of breath.

“Umm, yeah. I just saw a spider.” You stuttered.

“Oh love, you can kill a man in cold blood but can’t handle an itty bitty spider,” Tom joked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“You're afraid of them too, Thomas.” You quipped with a side eye. If looks could kill, yours definitely would.

“And for you missy, you’re grounded along with your brother.” Tom said, looking down on Rosie. “Me? What did I do?” Rosie asked in a high pitched voice. “You attended this party correct? And since this is also your house, you threw it by association. Am I right?” Tom inquired.

“I guess so,” Rosie huffed.

The twin’s exile was worse than they prepared for. Not only were they responsible for cleaning up the entire mess but they were given a list of chores to complete. This was no ordinary list. It was devised by you and Tom along with inputs from the maids and capos.

On it read:

Wash the Rolls

Clean the guns

Reorganize the pantry

Mow the lawn

Re-order all stolen liquor and stock the liquor room

Drain the pool, clean the pool, fill the pool back up again…

The list was never-ending. Each task more pointless than the next. It went on forever. The household staff was happy for their load was to be lessen for a couple weeks, unlike the kids. Harrison even forced Henry to partake in the chores.

The kids were only a couple days into their quarantine and were already going stir crazy. Parker was having withdrawals from Charlotte, missing her even more. The boy was whipped for her, really smitten. They would talk the night away. Some nights never getting any shut eye as their conversations would prolong hours.

Parker couldn’t believe this was where he was now. One night of unadulterated juvenile fun equated to 2 months of misery. Today was Charlotte’s birthday and he was supposed to take her to the London Eye on a surprise birthday trip, but all his plans were ruined the moment his parents came home and grounded his sorry ass.

“I can’t believe your parents grounded you. Assholes.” Charlotte said over the phone, fuming he couldn’t celebrate with her.

“I can’t go babe. I really wish I could but I’m grounded for life remember.” Parker said, the cold shoulder Tom and you had been giving him was killing him.

“Parker its my birthday. You have to come,” Charlotte pleaded

“There’s no chance in hell I’m allowed to leave.”

“Geez you just threw a party, it’s not like you killed someone,” Charlotte added. He might as well have. If he killed someone he wouldn’t be burdened with this punishment, probably praised instead, carrying on the family tradition.

“Just sneak out. Come on, we are all going to this nightclub downtown. It’s gonna be awesome. And I’m such a good girlfriend, I can’t let you miss it.” Charlotte pleaded.

“Alright, Char you wore me down.”

“I knew it. Pick you up at 11 tonight.”

“Park around the block, I’m going to have to climb out my window. Remember my house is like a fortress.” Parker said. He wasn’t lying.

Meanwhile, Tom was in and out of meetings in his office all day. He received one odd phone call in particular from his dad, Dominic Holland. “Hi dad, how are you” Tom said as he picked up the phone.

“I’m fine son, so how did the talk with Parker go. I’m excited to teach him all my mobster tricks,” Dom exclaimed. “Actually dad, he reacted like I did.”

“Oh well, he will come around just like you did” Dom said encouragingly.

“I don’t know if he will. Anyway it wouldn’t be so bad if he had his own path in life.” Tom murmured trying to stick up for his son’s decision.

“Tom, you know what will happen to this family if that happens,” Dom yelled.

“I know dad. I just don’t want him to feel trapped, like you did to me,” Tom exclaimed growing more annoyed by the minute.

“What I did to you got you to where you are today. Your life is thanks to me son and don’t you forget it,” Dom said with a stern, menacing voice.

“Understood sir,” Tom quipped. “Maybe Parker needs a push, in the right direction.” “Dad, I swear to god, don’t fucking do anything. Y/N and I are handling this” Tom yelled. “We’ll see how that turns out” Dom ended the phone call. Leaving Tom frustrated that his father sees him as his own puppet.

The night soon fell and Parker’s plan had been put into motion. He bribed a few of the Tom’s men with his allowance to let him sneak past. He jumped out the window, carefully walked on the roof as to not slip and make any noise. Finally on the ground, he scaled the iron fence to be met with Charlotte’s ice blue eyes. She was dressed in a pink party dress that hugged her figure perfectly.

“Wow princess, you look *chef’s kiss. Happy birthday baby,” Parker said while making his way back to the ground.

“Thanks doll. Now come on, before someone catches us,” she yelled whilst hopping into her silver Mercedes.

Arriving at the nightclub, everything was in full swing for 11 o’clock at night. Parker, Charlotte and her other friends were treated like royalty the moment Parker let his name slip.

“Right this way Mr. Holland and I will have someone bring you a bottle of champagne, on the house of course,” the hostess said as she sat them at their table.

“Oooo fancy, you should drop your name more often,” Charlotte whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Oh it was nothing, love.” Parker said while pouring himself and Charlotte a glass of bubbly. “Seriously Parker, how’d you do this? If I didn’t know any better I’d say your dad owned the club or something,” Charlotte said dumbfounded, causing Parker to choke on his champagne at her remark.

It was amazing what power could do. Having enough power to make your enemies disappear was unimaginable. Parker knew what turning down his father meant. He would have the name and the look of a Holland, but he wouldn’t be one anymore.

How could he give all that up. He enjoyed his cushy lifestyle. Sure it was day after day of worrying about your image but, he felt as though he belonged in that world. How could he go on being a kid for two more years knowing there was a metaphorical expiration date on his life.

He desperately wanted to want to be like them, his family. You, his mother, are the strongest person he knows. Having you in his life keeps him grounded, literally at the moment. Also his dad, Tom is a very loving and amazing father. He was there at all the football games (English football) cheering him on and at the spelling bees, also when he felt his first heartbreak, Tom was there.

Family has been the one constant in his life. Now it was being eclipsed by power, a power that could ruin lives or affect change. Turning his back on his family means they would never get see his future.

No one would be there at his graduation from college or when he first child was born, only Charlotte would be there. The girl he hoped to marry and have his kids. He couldn’t give up his future with her, no way. Parker eyes glanced at her, mesmerized by her beauty. He thought to himself, “This was it. This, she is all I’ll ever need, my princess.”

Most of Parker’s pet names for Charlotte were derived from Tom. He had heard his dad refer to his mother as: princess, queen, doll, darling, love. The list goes on. As long as Parker had his princess he knew he would be ok.

They danced the night away. Song after song. Feeling like the only two people in the room. Getting more drunk as the night progressed and other guests started to fizzle out. Leaving Charlotte and Parker alone on the dance floor.

“Char, I think it’s about time we head home. We are the only people left,”

Parker chuckled.

“Just two more songs please,” she muttered with her head nuzzled by his neck.

“It’s two hours til sunrise!” Parker exclaimed.

“Just a little while longer, I don’t want this moment to end.” “Me neither baby, I want to stay in your arms forever” Parker said. In a moment of love, coupled with champagne and a few tequila shots, Parker whispered, “We should get married.”

“What? Are you serious? Do you mean now or in like 5 years?” Charlotte asked as her voice slowly diminished

“Umm… yes and now. I love you,” Parker murmured. “YES! I will marry you!” Charlotte exclaimed pulling her boyfriend into a deep, passionate kiss. Parker’s dream was coming true and all he had to do was leave his family.

Just then a group of tall, stocky men, all dressed in black, funneled through the door of the club. They didn’t bother with sitting down, they just stood there blocking the only exit.

One of the men spoke up, “Parker Holland? I have a message for you.”

“Can’t it wait til morning, just tell him I’m sorry and he can ground me even longer,” Parker replied thinking the message was from Tom.

“It’s not that kind of message,” all the noise drifted away as the other man drew his gun. Both Charlotte and Parker grew tense at the sight of his pistol.

“Charlotte, get behind me,” Parker whispered, scared for both their lives.

“Boy, it’s not from your daddy,” said the leader of the men. “Do you know who my father is? He will have all of your heads if you so as much lay a finger on me,” Parker responded

“So the girl is up for grabs?” “Charlotte, RUN!” Parker Screamed

“Eh, not so fast. I’m going to enjoy this one.” The guy said, seizing Charlotte in his grip and motioning for this associates to grab Parker. Two arms holding Parker back from protecting Charlotte.

“LET GO OF ME! CHARLOTTE!”

“Why you hanging out this rift raft? I’m sorry but he needs to atone for his mistakes.” “Parker..” Charlotte whimpered.

“Such a pretty girl and such a waste” the man snickered as he pressed the gun into her abdomen. Tears slipped down her face as she felt the cool metal against her.

BANG

It was the shot heard round the room. Everything stood quiet as Charlotte collapsed to the floor. The leader of the men shouted he need a drink. “NOOOOO! ” Parker screamed as he was let go and raced to Charlotte’s side

“Hey, hey, baby look at me. Look at me,” Parker said as tears flooded down his face.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve left.” Charlotte whispered with labored breaths while blood poured out of her wound. “Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Parker cried while rubbing his thumb on her cheek. Blood pooled around them and he could only be focused on one thing, the love of his life dying in his arms. “Parker, it hurts so much,” Charlotte cried. The pain was mind-numbing. Threatening the life inside her.

“I know, love. Just keep your eyes on me love, keep’em open”

“I’m so tired Parker… I want my last words to you to be I love you. I love you ok? So much.” she whispered, then broke into a coughing fit. Blood filling her mouth and running down her chin, scaring Parker.

“Don’t, don’t fucking start that now you, hear me. You’re gonna be fine, we’re gonna get married and have kids and grow old together,” Parker exclaimed as her eyes threatened to shut.

“You said yes, Char. You have to be okay. You said yes. I asked you to marry me and you said yes.” Parker cried as tears refused to stop coming. Charlotte’s eyes growing more and more to a close.

“Please, don’t leave me baby. Charlotte don’t leave me. Don’t fucking close your eyes. You hear me. Don’t.” And with that, the hand Parker held so close to his heart was limp. Her eyes had closed and heart stopped beating. She was gone.

“No! No, no no, hey hey hey, come on, come on baby stay with me. Stay with me please.”

“Wake up, darling. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Just come back to me baby. , I need you,” Parker whimpered. He burst into a fit of sobs and hugged her close to his body, not wanting to let her go because then it all became real.

The woman who changed his life, no longer walked this earth. The love of his life was gone. All the bubbling life inside of her, vanished like it had never existed in the first place. Parker’s demeanor flipped like a switch. His sadness became infused with anger, he was out for blood.

“You bastards! Why did you do that? She had nothing to do with this?” Parker thundered as blood coated his knuckles. “I’m sorry kid, but it had to be done” The leader spoke.

In a fit of rage, Parker grabbed the empty champagne bottle and smashed it over one of the guy’s heads, knocking the muscular guy unconscious.

“Big mistake, kid. Thought you were smarter than that.” The leader said as he stood in front of Parker and delivered him a swift punch to the jaw, flooring Parker.

“She really wasn’t enough of a message? Want her death to be in vain?” He spat as he kicked Parker in the stomach.

Several kicks followed, two more to the stomach, one to the groin and one final blow to the head, demobilizing Parker. He laid on the ground coughing up blood, trying to gather enough strength to get home.

He looked once more over to the girl he had loved, lifeless with a whole in stomach, knowing if it weren’t for him she would still be alive. Charlotte was the only thing on his mind as he succumbed to all the pain and everything faded to darkness.

Guns, Glamour, and Goodfellas Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @adriannauni @dummiesshort

[ruewrites]

Raising Them Right

AO3

WBT

Ships: Diavolo/Lucifer (minor near the end)

Word Count: 3960

Warnings: Abandonement, Self Deprication

A/N:  Here it is! So this is the second fic that was inspired from the one angst anon that wanted to know more about Asmo’s past relationships. I really had a wonderful time writing it, and I hope you guys enjoy!

Lucifer could still remember that day. It was clear in his mind and bit at him like a viper, slowly killing a part of him that was now long lost to time. He knew that Levi and Mammon remembered as well. Maybe Satan. But Asmo and the twins? Not so much. Regardless, he knew it had toyed with his brothers in various ways. Forcing different insecurities and means to cope down their throats. Honestly Lucifer didn’t even get away unscathed. 

Hurt and betrayal had bubbled up in his throat as he tore their room apart. Part of him was looking for an answer of sorts. A reason. But the bigger of him wanted destruction, wanted to erase them from their lives entirely. They chose to leave, so why should they have any memory of them? 

Lilith’s room was left untouched. Lucifer boarded up the door the best he could. This made his heart ache the most. He couldn’t focus too hard on what he was doing. It wouldn’t lead to good things. He needed to keep a steady composure for his brothers. They needed someone to look up to. Someone they could rely on. 

They had all packed up and left that night. The oldest three couldn’t bear to be in the house anymore. Satan hadn’t said anything, conflict swirling within his young mind. Asmo and the twins questioned their actions slightly.

“What if they come back looking for us?”

“Are we gonna go home soon Luci?”

“What if they miss us?”

It made the situation worse. It made Lucifer’s throat tighten and his eyes burn. How could he tell them that they weren’t even going back? That that place was no longer home? That they’d been abandoned? That was how Lucifer saw it, and he could feel that Mammon was just as bitter. His teeth were clenched, trying so hard not to snap at the little ones. They didn’t know any better, and Lucifer wished he could have protected them all from this reality. 

He was helpless.

They’d travelled around for a while, until they found a small motel with a vacancy. The older three had done the math. If they worked enough, they could stay here.. He wasn’t sure who called about them, but he wasn’t surprised. Who wouldn’t have been worried about seven children of varying ages wandering around alone on their own? Honestly, it was the responsible thing to do. Even if Lucifer hated admitting to it.

Ever since that day, Lucifer fought tooth and nail for his family. He refused to let anyone take his brothers away from him, refused to let them be torn apart any more than they already were. He’d heard everything. He was too young to effectively take care of them, that the little ones would be better off in more stable households. These conversations only succeeded in making Lucifer angrier. Eventually they reached a compromise. All seven of them would move in with a family, until further notice. 

Lucifer had agreed to this, but also took it as a challenge to get them their own place as soon as he could.

***********

Lucifer had gotten the call. He put himself down as the primary contact for all of his brothers, so he always knew what was going on with them. 

Deep breaths. In. And out. 

Getting angry at Mammon rarely got him anywhere. It was just frustrating. Mammon was smart  dammit! And he was a good kid deep down. Lucifer knew this, and it made it even worse every time he heard that Mammon had acted out once more. Lucifer had apologized to his professor multiple times about not being able to show up to class, and they understood, but it didn’t make the situation any better.

Lucifer got out of the car and started the routine he’d become so accustomed too. What could it be today? Acting out in class? Snatching something off of the teacher’s desk? Stealing from the cafeteria? Oh Lucifer could only imagine.

Greeting the ladies at the front desk, Lucifer was quickly ushered back to the principal's office. Mammon was hunched over in one of the chair’s, his hoodie obscuring his face.

Suspended.

For getting into a fight with another student.

It wasn’t  a long suspension, but Lucifer still didn’t exactly know how to feel about it. There was a tense silence in the car.It got to the point where Lucifer pulled off into a parking lot and shut his car off. Mammon sank down further in the car seat.

“Would you like to explain yourself?” Lucifer hoped his voice came out even, despite the twitching he felt in his lip. 

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“It wasn’t- Mammon you got suspended.”

More silence.

“Let me see.”

“Luc-”

“Let. Me. See.”

Mammon hesitated for a moment before pulling his hoodie down and looking over at Lucifer. He had a black eye. Lucifer put his head in his hands and Mammon quickly went on to try to explain himself.

“It wasn’t my fault! These guys came along n’ they were makin fun of Levi and were tryin to take his-”

“Levi?”

Lucifer’s head perked up as he looked at Mammon. His frustration slowly melted away as he listened to his brother with new interest.

“Yeah! These guys are normally jerks, but then they started goin at our family, and messing with Levi really bad.”

Lucifer was silent for a moment before starting the car. He was quiet for a few moments before speaking up, “Is there anything you want?”

“What?”

“You know I don’t reward bad behavior Mammon,” Lucifer started, “But I don’t think I consider what you did today bad behavior.”

Mammon blinked a few times before snorting, “You sound like a dad.”

“Don’t push it.”

“Aight aight…. Thanks Lucifer. I’ll think about it.”

***********

Levi had always loved his games, and he was good at them. The time he spent on them honestly had Lucifer concerned for his eyes. They made Levi happy and Lucifer could usually hear him talking about the lore behind them or the characters when he wasn’t talking about his favorite shows or manga.

Lucifer didn't understand any of it, he didn’t pretend to. Usually he couldn’t stop the confusion that spread across his face. Understanding what Levi was trying to understand quantum physics. But Levi didn’t seem to mind, he would continue to talk, excitement rising with each word that passed through his lips. Honestly, Lucifer was fine with anything that made him happy.

As long as his brothers were happy and safe, that was all that mattered.

So when he heard sniffling from Levi’s room, Lucifer couldn’t help but investigate. The door was open ever so slightly. He peeked his head in first, eyes scanning the room and settling on a pile of blankets in the center.

He walked closer and sat down on the bed and let the silence permeate for a moment.

“Levi,” he said softly, the sniffling stopped for a moment, “Why are you crying?”

Levi didn’t say a word. Lucifer didn’t move.

“I’m not gonna do anything or amount to anything,” Levi sniffled, “I’m not good at anything. My interests are weird. I’m  just taking up space and… and-”

And Dad said so.

The unspoken words lingered like a bitter perfume in the air. Lucifer knew their father had most likely said such things to Levi, he knew that he’d probably said more to Levi and the idea made Lucifer’s blood boil. Just because his brother had interests that their parents hadn’t deemed worthwhile, it didn’t  mean that it made them any less important nor did it define his worth in any way. 

Yet the words of their abandoners still ran hot through Levi’s veins, and the idea of his own self worth suffered. 

It was despicable.

Deplorable.

“Who told you this Levi?” Lucifer asked.

The pile of blankets went quiet for a moment, “Just people…”

“Well they’re wrong,” Lucifer said, pulling the blanket down from Levi’s head, “You have plenty of talents and you have a place in this family.”

He picked up one of the controllers around them. The plastic felt awkward in his hands, and the buttons were foreign to him. Levi hadn’t moved, so Lucifer went to the next thing he could think of.

“I’d like it if you could teach me how to play.”

***********

After countless hours of research on cats, Lucifer finally made a decision. Satan had difficulties when it came to being calm. He surrounded himself with teas, and books, and music, but every now and again something (or someone) would ruin the atmosphere he worked so hard to create. Lucifer wanted to help him, he wanted him to find some sort of peace and maybe a cat was just what was needed.

Satan loved cats. Ever since he’d been young he’d had an affinity for them. Lucifer used to catch him setting out scraps for the strays outside of their old house, and maybe on more than one occasion Lucifer had left out said scraps for Satan to find. 

Cerberus was good with other animals, he’d seen the dog around cats and Lucifer didn’t think there’d be any problem with having another pet in the house. Satan was responsible and a wonderful student.  Lucifer wanted to help him and wanted to see him succeed.

“Where are we going?” Satan asked, crawling into the passenger seat. 

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

The look in his brothers eyes when he realized where they pulled up  to was one Lucifer swore he’d never forget. He asked him not to run as they got out of the car, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. He knew every cat in the shelter would be coming home with them if Satan could have his way, but they would be settling on one.

“Lucifer?”

Satan was staring into one of the pens. A small grey kitten with bright green eyes stared back. Needles to say, the soft bundle made the trip home with them. Lucifer swore that the calmest he’d ever seen Satan was when he was with that cat. He became a happier child and took care of her all on his own. His laughter filled the halls of the home more often, and it was contagious. Lucifer enjoyed seeing Satan smile, and he hoped the world would continue to allow him to have this type of happiness.

***********

Clothing stores had become a second home for the Morningstars. Lucifer swore the clothes he bought for his brothers never fit past the mall dressing rooms. Every other week he was bringing one or two of his brothers for shirts, or pants, or shoes, or some other article of clothing. Today it was him and Asmodeus.

Lucifer pushed the cart down the thin aisle glancing at the various clothes on either side of them with Asmo hot on his heels. However, the closer they got to the usual section the further and further Asmo lagged behind. It wasn’t until Lucifer was in front of the button ups that he realized his younger brother was no longer close behind him. Panic seized him for a moment, thinking he’d lost one of his siblings, but soon he spotted Asmo a few aisles down looking off at something.

“Asmo. Don’t wander off,” Lucifer said, as he approached him. The closer he got to Asmo, the better he could see what he was looking at. 

Pretty bows, flower clips, other sparkling hair pieces, skirts, loose fitting sweaters. Lucifer took a moment, looking over all of the different clothes, before realizing how nervous Asmo looked. Normally he was talkative and bubbly, but right now he was uncharacteristically silent and avoiding Lucifer’s eyes.

His brother had always liked pretty things. He loved picking flowers and having Lucifer catch butterflies for him to look at. He loved to watch the way sparkling dresses twirled in the movies they watched together and looking at the makeup on models on posters in the mall. Lucifer noticed these things, Lucifer knew these things about his brother, but Asmodeus didn’t know that Lucifer knew.  Asmo was worried, and unfortunately Lucifer thought he knew why. 

His brothers deserved to feel safe, to be happy, and even if they’d had a rough beginning, Lucifer wanted to make sure the rest of their stories led to a happy ending.

Lucifer leaned against the cart and offered a smile, “Well, pick out some things to try on.” 

Asmo perked up, looking shocked before a wide grin spread across his face. He put multiple outfits together from various sections and filled the cart. Lucifer honestly hoped they’d last him a while and that he wouldn’t outgrow them as soon as they got home. Asmo’s excitement was contagious.

Later that night, when he dropped him off at Solomon’s, Asmo tore out of the car, excited to show his friend his new clothes, hair clip sparkling in the sunlight.

***********

“Is dinner ready yet?”

Lucifer sighed and put the knife down next to the vegetables he was chopping. Beel had an appetite unlike any he’d come across before.  Doctors had said that he was probably going through a growth spurt and that he was likely going to be tall. A growing boy needed food, and Beel was far from a picky eater.

“Not yet.”

It was the same answer he’d given a few minutes ago.

Beel’s stomach echoed through the small kitchen as Lucifer picked up the knife once more. As he chopped away, his younger brother inched closer until his little eyes were peaking over the counter. A small hand reached out to steal a carrot piece from the counter. It wasn’t sneaky, Lucifer saw, but it didn’t matter.

Beel watched Lucifer in silence for a while, eyes wide and tracing every movement his older brother made.

“Lucifer?”

“Hm?”

“If I help you with dinner will it be done faster?”

The chopping stopped once more as Lucifer thought for a moment. Of course he could let Beel help. He didn’t want him using the knife, but this could still be a good opportunity to learn.  Slowly he nodded and looked towards the vegetables he’d already cut. 

“See those right there? Could you put those into the pot for me? I have another pot on the stove filled with water if you’d like to watch it warm up. When it’s boiling we can put the noodles in,” he said.

Beel’s grin widened and he nodded quickly, almost tripping over himself to help.

“And make sure you wash your hands, and be careful with the stove!”

Dinner had been quite lively that night. Beel chattered on and on about how he’d helped Lucifer with dinner, which led to some of the other younger ones wanting to learn so they could cook what they wanted. Lucifer chuckled quietly to himself. He knew he’d have to teach the rest of them eventually, but he never thought that he’d have a little cooking class on his hands.

***********

Finals had Lucifer stressed. He was running off of at least thirty-six shots of espresso split between six separate cups of coffee. Sleep seemed like a distant and fond memory to him, something he hadn’t experienced in a long while. He almost didn’t pick up on the sounds of small feet slowly padding against the floorboards of the house.

“Lucifer?”

The voice startled him, and he almost spilled one of his cups of coffee that had long gone cold. He swore softly before turning around. The soft glow of his laptop had been the only light source illuminating the room, and it took his eyes a while to adjust. Belphie stood in the doorway, pillow in one hand and his blanket trailing behind him. 

“Don’t tell the others, but,” Belphie was hesitant, his eyes swept to the floor, pink flooding his cheeks, “I had a really bad nightmare, and I can’t fall back asleep.”

Lucifer sat up a bit and tilted his head, “Is there anything you’d like to tell me about it?”

Belphie started to shake his head, then he hesitated. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before shaking his head again. “No,” he said, “But can I stay out here with you? But don’t-”

“Tell anyone? Of course I won’t, but you’re welcome to stay,” he yawned, scooting over ever so slightly to make room on the couch. He could feel his brother hesitate for a moment before wandering over to lay down. Minutes ticked by, and it wasn’t long until Belphie’s eyes shut once more and his small body slowly rose and fell

The more peace he could bring his brothers the better. Even at the slightest disturbance of sleep, Lucifer would smooth back Belphie’s hair in an attempt to calm him. Nightmares had become a common thing after what happened for a lot of them, and that meant Lucifer became alright when dealing with them.

He wasn’t going to leave them ever.

*********

Had he made the right decision? Or had his own pride made him so stupid as to make the worst mistake of his brothers’ lives? Should he have let them be taken by other families, potentially more stable families, and just set up dates to meet? Had he been selfish in his decisions?

These thoughts often plagued Lucifer when he was alone with his own thoughts. He thought about the problems his brothers faced and part of him felt responsible. He felt responsible for their fears, their problems, their worries. Everything bad that afflicted them could potentially be his fault. 

Mammon’s rebellious behavior.

Levi’s self deprecation.

Satan’s frustrations.

Asmo’s issues with his image.

Beel’s misplaced guilt.

Belphie’s angst.

Maybe he thought he could do more for them than he was actually capable of.

Maybe he’d been wrong.

**********

“Lucifer!”

Lucifer’s eyes glanced up from his paperwork to look at Diavolo from across the desk. He’d had piles of paperwork today, it felt like more than usual. There’d also been an influx in clients. New hires would definitely be needed soon. Perhaps he could have a meeting with Diavolo and Barbatos about it. 

“It’s time to clock out!” he said, bright and chipper as usual, “I was wondering if I could walk you home?”

Lucifer sighed and put down his pen. Diavolo was a good man and Lucifer did love him, but sometimes Lucifer felt like he took his work a little less seriously than he did.

Or maybe Lucifer was a little too strict. 

“That isn’t exactly necessary, besides, I have some things I need to finish up before I head home.”

“Nuh uh!” Diavolo clicked his tongue and shook his head, “The last time I let you stay past close to work, you were still here when I got back in the morning! It’s time to clock out. I’ll even help you where I can tomorrow!”

If he could stay on task when Lucifer needed him to. But Diavolo was a good man to work with, and he had proven himself time and time again. So Lucifer really shouldn’t worry himself all too much…

With a sigh of defeat Lucifer stood from his seat, each vertebrae in his spine cracking as he did so. He’d sat longer than he intended to…  “Alright, you win,” he said, “Just let me organize my work.”

Barbatos was waiting for them by the doors of the firm, keys in hand. Diavolo’s hand was pressed firmly against Lucifer’s back as he chattered away excitedly. It brought a soft smile to Lucifer’s face as he nodded to Barbatos. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how routine it had become for the three of them to walk home together. They were two of the closest friends Lucifer had ever had. After all, taking care of his brothers hadn’t left much room for socializing.

He knew Diavolo walking him home would also require him staying to talk for a little bit. Lucifer was already thinking of the variety of teas he could make for the two of them to relax with. His home wasn’t ideal, considering his brothers could be nosey when it came to his relationship, but if it made Diavolo happy it would suffice.

“Thank you,” he said as Diavolo opened the door for him, “Now-”

His sentence was cut short. No sooner had he walked into the kitchen and turned the lights on than confetti streamers went off, and a chorus of ‘surprise!’ surrounded him. 

His brothers were all there, standing with wide smiles and eager faces. In the center of it all was a cake: “Congrats on One Year!”

Diavolo was behind him again, guiding a stunned Lucifer into the room. His hand squeezed his shoulder, excitement coursing through his veins. 

“You haven’t forgotten have you?” Barbatos hummed, “The firm has been around for a year now. Your brothers wanted to congratulate you and asked us both to help.”

Ah. That’s right. This is why Barbatos was their secretary. The man knew how to keep track of the passage of time. 

Seeing that their brother was still in shock, Beel decided to speak up, “We wanted to let you know how proud we are of you.”

“Despite everything you’ve had to do and all the odds stacked against you, you still did it!” Asmo chirped in.

“And you did it while still raising all of us,” Satan smiled.

“Even when we could be the biggest pains in the ass,” Mammon said.

Levi turned to look at him, “Hey, stop talking about yourself Mammon.” 

“Oi!”

“Nah, he’s right, we can all be annoying,” Belphie snorted, “Well, you guys anyways.”

Despite his brother’s bickering, Lucifer’s smile had found its way back on to his face, “Thank you… All of you.”

“Well, why stand here when we have a cake to eat?” Diavolo chuckled, “Come on now Lucifer, let’s take a seat. Ha! That rhymed. Look at me being a poet!”

As Lucifer sat down with the others, he couldn’t help but look over all of his brothers. They’d all grown into such fine young men with bright futures. They were laughing, and happy, and together… They’d had their rough patches and a rather depressing beginning, but now they had a bright future ahead of them. Maybe Lucifer did make the right decision and maybe he’d been too hard on himself at times.

Despite every terrible thing that had happened they’d made it. They’d all beat the odds. As he sat there with his family he looked each of them over.

Confident and boisterous Mammon, who enjoyed drawing in attention.

Passionate Levi, who loved his hobbies more fervently than anyone Lucifer had ever met before.

Intelligent and calculating Satan, who’d always be hungry for knowledge.

Sweet little Asmo, who wore his heart on his sleeve and could spot beauty in anyone.

Gentle giant Beel, who was so compassionate and was always sensitive to the needs of others.

And a mellow Belphie, who knew how to appreciate the little things in life.

Lucifer was proud of them. No. Pride couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling spreading throughout his chest. This feeling was so much more intense. They were all so happy together, and Lucifer wouldn’t give this up for the world.

Their parents would never understand what a grievous mistake they’d made. Lucifer would never understand their reasoning, and he would never make excuses for them.

Lucifer had one thing they’d never have: the love of his brothers.

They would never have the satisfaction of seeing them be successful in life, and Lucifer would make sure they were successful and happy.

Even if Lucifer hadn’t been perfect, he knew he raised them right.

He knew they’d have bright and happy futures.

[the-fiction-witch]

Watts

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY X READER (KINDA) RATING: SAD + SWEET

Writers notes: My brain today : Hu? I wonder what’s benny watt’s backstory? who knows... Lets make him one! that's sad and tragic and kinda adorable... lets do this. 

I sat against the harsh plastic chair, my feet against the ice cold stones of the basement floor, the chill coming under the door spreading across the whole apartment, the windows dark rain battering them every so often thunder cracking across the sky, I sat up a little in my chair and moved a piece playing the toughest game I could play, Against myself. I pulled my shirt over me a little more but not wanting to do up another button, it wasn't that cold. I was lost in my own world a while my mind started to wander. 

One of the first things I can recall, it was a bright sunny day, the sky blue, the warmth of mid July in full swing, The tall buildings around all shaken and half broken, all the windows taped up, many of them blacked out, The sweet sounds of the radio playing some nice tunes, I was hopping along the tall fence posts jumping from tall wooden post to tall wooden post down the long garden, trying not to fall. I saw the door to next door open, her hair up in a bun, her dress half torn and repaired, the washing basket on her hip,  she was shocked but then her face softened as she smiled at me 

"Benjamin watts? what are you doing up there?" she laughs 

"Playing" I told her 

"what are you playing?" she asks coming over 

"Frogs"

"Well alright," she laughs putting her basket down by her washing line string, she got her little cloth out her apron pocket giving it a lick and cleaning some dirt off my nose "You be careful Little man"

"I will Mrs Linley" I smiled hopping to the next post 

"why don't you go out and play with the other kiddos?" 

"There not as fun as playing by myself"

"Why don't you go with little Lilly take her to the park for an ice cream"

"Lilly's boring"

"BENNY!" I heard the harsh male voice yell so I quickly jumped down from the fence seeing him stood looming over the backdoor of the house in his usual suit with his cane, his belt done tight with his knife sat there as usual "Dinner" He says so I nodded heading inside sitting at the table where he set down a bowl of gross smelling soup I instantly turned my nose up at it "Eat it. You're lucky I even feed you" He says muttering to himself as he usually did "Ungrateful little bastard, You know I don't have to. I could have sent you to the poor house with the other kids, not out the goodness of my heart I look after you"

"Then why do you Papa?" 

"Because your mother asks it off me." he sighed sitting at the table with his own soup and some bread "We've been over this" He says "I want nothing to do with my daughter, never was my business, and if she wasn't so busy I wouldn't be the one taking care of you, You little bastard" 

"What's a bastard Papa?"

"You are a bastard benny. By definition, Maybe you wouldn't be if your mother kept her legs shut and had some idea who your father was" He sighed "if your mother wasn't so busy, taking care of the soldiers I'd leave you with her," he explained "eat your dinner"

"Yes papa" I sighed "when will mummy be back?"

"When the war is over," he says "your mother as much as we have our differences, she does a good job, and an important job. Nurses are usually good girls, your mother… happens to be an exception, but nurses are good girls, you'll marry a nurse one day"

"Will I?"

"Course you will. You'll get a war at your age Benny, you'll meet a lovely nurse, get married and have your own little kiddos" he says "Watts always have nurses"

"What if I don't wanna be a soldier?" 

"Then you and your mother are dead to me" he says before the sound of the warning erupted across the city, he stood up and grabbed the bag by the door pushing me out the seat I nodded and ran out the house And into the garden as the sun was setting, he slowing followed as he locked the house up, I ran down to the shelter jumping on my little bed, he followed and locked the door up behind him sitting on his own. It grew terrifyingly quiet as for moments the world sat on the edge “Benny, Play” He ordered clicking his fingers pointing to the little chess board he had set up on the table between the beds, I happily smiled going and playing against him. He would often try to trick me but I always beat him “Good game kid” He cracked a smile shaking my hand 

“Can I papa? Can I?” I asked bouncing my on the bed 

“Alright, until the raid’s over” he says taking his hat from the side and sitting it on my head “Again?”

“Again” I smiled excitedly setting the board up again, 

“But not to many, you need to get to bed”

I sat at the table the chess board set, waiting. It was getting so late now I wonder what was happening, Someone had come to the door before we had began our game I didn’t know why, My grandpa just took them to the other room I could heard talking, arguing even if I tried not to listen. 

“Why can’t his father take him?”

“There’s no mention of him anywhere we can’t find him” “Well he has to be somewhere” “Noel. If you don’t keep him. He’ll get swept up with the rest of the kids, There’s hundreds, maybe thousands of them, homeless, lost there families, you know if he goes into the system, he won’t get out till he’s eighteen.”

“I don’t see why I should keep him

“He’s your grandchild” “He’s a bastard! I never much wanted anything to do with my daughter why should I clean up after her mess”

“Because she’s not coming back. Not for him. Not for you. You’re all he has in the world.”

The door opened moments later the woman from the door came over to me touching my hair moving it out of my eyes for me “Hi Benny”

“Hello” I answered not sure what was going on 

“Benny, I need you to answer something for me” she smiled moving to her knee

“Okay” I nodded seeing my grandpa stood leaning on the door to the other room 

“Would you Like to stay here? In this little house with your grandpa? Or would you like me to take you to a nice place with lots of other children… lots of nice children who, Have lost their mommies too” 

I looked to my grandpa and he seemed to be waiting for the answer too, I didn’t know what they wanted from me…

“I would like to stay here with papa” 

“Okay sweetheart” she smiled “Then he stays with you” 

“What if I said… you’d be better off there Benny?” He asks

“I’d still rather stay” 

“Fine. But I hear a word of complaint out your little bastard mouth, one tantrum, one teenage rebellion. You’re going. You choose to stay here with me, and don’t you ever fucking forget it” He warned 

“Yes Papa”

“Go to your room” He ordered and I nodded going out the house and out to the little shelter, our house had only ever had one bedroom and there wasn’t much space for me, even so he would rather I sleep out here said I was safer to always sleep in here, were I couldn’t get hurt, My boards sat along the other bed, my trophies lines along the little wall, I shut the little door and got cosy in the little dark shelter. 

I sat in the old beaten up pick up listening to the radio on low, I was going over the games of the people I was to play against, running through it all in my head. 

“You gonna win?” He asks

“I’m planning on it” “Don’t get cocky.” He warns “worst train in the world cockiness. Gets you into trouble. Don’t write checks with your mouth that your ass can’t cash benny” 

“I know,” 

“I know you know. Doesn't it mean you shouldn’t listen” He says “You're going out after?”

“No, home. Do some work” “You’ve never gonna met a girl at one of these things” “I know,”

“..... If there’s a boy-” “I’m not Gay Papa” I laughed

“Aren’t you? You're fourteen, how do you know?” 

“Because I like girls”

“You’re fourteen. You don’t know what you like. I thought alot like what then I was your age”

“And?”

“And. You shouldn’t set yourself up to fail, I was married when I was not much older then you. Don’t… rush yourself with things is all I’m saying” “Is that why you didn’t wanna be with grandma anymore?”

“Somewhat, there was a lot of things between me and your grandma. Don’t worry about it” He says as he stopped at the little hotel doing the tournament “Hey,” He says stopping me from opening the door “Good luck you little bastard” He laughs putting his hat on my head 

“I thought I don’t get it till I win?” I asked fiddling with it 

“You’ll win. You’re a Watts, Go on you’ll be late” He says 

“Thanks Papa” I smiled 

“Go on run along you little bastard” 

I tried to force it all away, I didn’t want to think about it. I folded the letter up and left it on the table, the cold chill of the apartment starting to get to me. This place was small, dirty, cold, and depressing but… I liked it. It felt like home, all the years of sitting playing chess in bomb shelters because he was too scared to let me come out, I wish I could have seen him again… I wish we hadn’t lost touch, then again he never liked how I went on from there, much less everything else, I had seen him a few times at key moments but he rarely spoke much, or phoned much, he kinda just… backed off. Knowing I had my own life and my own things, I don’t think he minded, but still. I would have liked to have seen him again. 

“Benny?” I heard making me sit up a little seeing y/n stood at the bedroom door dressed for work already in her little blue and white dress, her hair done up in beautiful braids, minimal make up as it would get ruined on her shift anyway “Can you settle him? Else I’ll be late for work” she smiled 

“Course I can” I laughed getting up and taking our little baby from her sitting him on my hip “Hey kiddo” I laughed giving his head a kiss trying to make him settle down. 

“He won’t stop fussing” she laughs 

“Boys do” I shrug 

“Ummm… are all watts boys such fussy little monsters?” she laughs 

“We are assholes” I sighed 

“Umm Have to make sure I have a girl this time then” she smiled tapping her tiny little tummy she wasn’t even a full three months yet, “Are you okay benny?” she asks

“Yeah, I’m fine” I shrug 

“Alright, don’t get wrapped up about it okay,” she smiled giving me a hug “Milks in the fridge, I’ll be home for dinner” she smiled giving me a kiss 

“See you later darling” I told her 

“Love you” she giggled 

“Love you too” I laughed giving her an extra kiss, she smiled back and gave his head a kiss too before she got her bag

“You boys have fun” she laughed as she opened the door and hurried off to work, I smiled taking him sitting in his high chair by the table, he liked watching my play chess even if was only just about a year old. He kept making grabby hands towards the side of the table where my hat sat so I laughed picking it up and sitting it on his head even if it was miles too big for him 

“It’s okay luke. You’ll grow into it” I laughed “But you're not having it properly, till you win. That's the rules, same for you as it was for me. Hey. You’re a watts. And that's the one thing no one can ever take away from you” I told him 

[babyybitchhhwrites]

Senkuu x Reader 18+

Title: Make It Hurt

Rating: Explicit/R-18

Words: 5946

Warnings: Nipple Play, Nipple Clamps, Sadism, Masochism, Begging, Rutting, Vaginal Fingering, Established Relationship, Power Dynamics, Modern Era

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24847819

♥♥♥♥

Bathed in the fading light coming in from the window, you sat naked and vulnerable. The familiar bed, in which you usually found nothing but peace and comfort, suddenly felt like an execution slab as you watched Senkuu finish prepping for the scene with his usual brand of methodical care.

Calling it a sadistic experiment would probably be more accurate, the knowledge of what he was about to do to you making you rub your thighs together restlessly. You’d both agreed to a list of set parameters regarding tonight’s activities after a lengthy discussion concerning limits and safewords wherein the ever particular genius had explained in excruciating detail exactly what he wanted to do with you. Although he occasionally gave them a nudge, Senkuu was always careful about not overstepping your boundaries which meant he was as exceptionally thorough with these negotiations as with everything else. Being with him was, in many ways, like having a fantasy come to life and you’d grown unbearably wet just from listening to him talk.

But now that the countdown to showtime had reached its final moments, you couldn’t quite tell if you were horny or scared anymore. It seemed some heady mixture of the two as you watched him roll white sleeves up to the elbows before glancing over the tools he’d neatly arranged on his bedside table. Your skin, already damp with anxious sweat, crawled with nerves when you followed his line of sight.

You issued a quiet whimper and squeezed your legs as tight as you possibly could, fitfully squirming on top of the comforter. Senkuu immediately caught what you were doing and he sent you a knowing little smirk as he climbed up to join you with his back facing the headboard.

“Are you nervous or excited?”

“Excited.” You automatically answered.

Humming doubtfully, Senkuu settled in across from you with his legs folded over one another. He looked comfortable. Right at home in this power exchange. “What’s your color?”

You blinked. It was a bit surprising to hear him ask that before he’d even gotten started. “Green.”

Senkuu’s leering smile only grew wider. “Good. Don’t hesitate to call yellow if you need to. I’d rather take a short break than stop altogether.”

“I won’t.” You assured him with a warbling smile of your own.

Drawing a slow breath that made his shoulders rise and fall, Senkuu tentatively reached for your bare chest. You sat up a little straighter, arching your back in open invitation, and a shudder rippled through you when the rough pad of his thumb brushed your nipple. A quiet, faltering sigh slipped out of you. Unbidden but sincere.

The sensitive bundle of nerve endings had gradually softened over the last few minutes as you’d adjusted to the temperature of his room but now it seemed to spring back to life with an eager quickness that left you feeling lightheaded. Curling, pebbling tight and then finally peaking into a stiff pucker. Your mouth parted as if to moan but nothing came out. Senkuu’s ministrations were persistent and steady, and he continued to toy with the meaty nub long after it had stirred to full attention. He took his time simply alternating between gentle swipes of his thumb back and forth over the tip and dragging the pad of his finger across it to evoke sharp bursts of friction that made you shudder. His attention was all on your face though; ruby red eyes taking in every minute emotion that flitted across your pinched expression and carefully filing it away for later use.

That was what he found appealing about this arrangement. Not the sex itself, though you were certain you would have heard about it by now if he’d had any complaints. Rather it was the sense of discovery and triumph he felt every time he found a new way to turn your body against you, each new reaction just further stoking that adventurous spirit burning within him. Senkuu wanted to know exactly what made you tick and how. At what speed. What pressure. Where your physical limits truly were. Which of them could be tested and which ones were set in stone. It seemed there was no discernable ceiling on his curiosity, particularly not when there were still so many avenues of inquiry on the matter of human sexulity left to explore, and you groaned as the insistent tweaking started to make your nipple ache .

“You like that?” He crooned, quiet and sly.

Swallowing hard, you gave your head a jerky nod. “It feels good. You should do the other one too.”

Senkuu closed his thumb and forefinger around the stiff tip of your breast and chidingly tugged on it. “That’s not how you ask for something, is it?”

“Please …”

He made a thoughtful noise of consideration at that and you weren’t particularly surprised to find him callously grinning at you when you lifted your attention from his hand. Senkuu promptly cocked his head to one side, looking every bit the sadistic demon lord your peers so often jokingly accused him of being. “I think you do that on purpose just so I have to punish you for being disobedient.” He murmured, pulling on your nipple until you seethed at the pain.

“But you like it.” You croaked.

“You’re right. I do.” Lifting his other hand, Senkuu reached for your neglected tit and your breath hitched in trembling anticipation. “Ten billion points to my bratty, hard headed girlfriend.”

You watched him pinch his fingers around the pliably soft flesh with wide, blown out eyes only to go ramrod stiff when he immediately tugged on it hard enough to pull a surprised grunt from your throat. No preamble or buildup. Just a sharp, unforgiving jerk that left you reeling and swaying forward unsteadily in a futile attempt to lessen the sting by some margin.

Senkuu merely noised a low sound of pleasure and twisted his wrist, tweaking your nipple at such a relentless degree that it actually brought you up onto your knees as if compelled by invisible puppet strings. Your hands scrabbled at his forearms, nails sinking into firm skin, but he was altogether implacable. Dauntless in his pursuit of blurring the line between pleasure and pain.

The sheer intensity of the sensation had you writhing, torn between arching into the exquisite torture he was inflicting and grinding down on the sheets in a blithe attempt at relieving the thrumming ache in your cunt. Your once jumbled thoughts were nothing more than a mess of static white noise now and you couldn’t think straight. Only feel.

You were already toeing the line of your threshold when he abruptly squeezed your nipples so tightly that it made tears spring up in your eyes, and you jolted. “O - ooooh …!”

“Do you want to try asking again?”

“Pluh - please!” You squawked, answering him on autopilot. “Please, sir! Please play with my tits! Please, please, plea -”

He only increased the pressure. “Color?”

“Yellow!”

His fingers instantly loosened their hold and your back bowed as blinding bursts of throbbing hurt splintered throughout your chest. You wheezed, mouth hanging open on a stricken groan that seemed to stick in your throat. The pain didn’t put a damper on your arousal half as much as it probably should have and you trembled when your pussy spasmed around nothing, gushing yet more sticky slick to coat your inner thighs.

Senkuu issued a consolingly hushed whisper as he brushed the pads of his thumbs over the sore peeks of your breasts as if in apology. “Shhh. Is that better?”

You sucked in a ragged gulp of air and nodded.  

Sighing a quiet noise of approval, he resumed his earlier gentle ministrations which, much to your frazzled surprise, had your nipples rapidly puckering all over again. “You sure you want to try this today? I think the clothespins are going to hurt worse than my fingers …”

You had to force yourself to look away from the infinitely patient expression on his face and steal a furtive glance at the contents of the bedside table. A tinge of undeniable excitement pulsed within you and raced straight to your cunt, but you knew your own body well enough to recognize what you could or couldn’t handle yet. “I’d like to give it a shot …” You said slowly. “But maybe we should hold off on the plastic ones.”

“Deal.”

Swinging your attention around, you were greeted by a wide, boyish smile that quickly had you grinning right back at him. Senkuu adjusted his hands so they were cradling the globular weight of your breasts in his palms before leaning forward and you mirrored the action to meet him halfway. His mouth was firm against yours, warm and just plushy enough to make you melt into him. The sort of kiss that reminded you exactly how soft he was capable of being with you even when he was in the process of acting on his sadistic tendencies.

You happily let him take the lead and guide your lips with the coaxing push and pull of his own, basking in the taste of him when Senkuu’s tongue tantalizingly brushed against yours. He pulled away a brief moment later and you sat back on your haunches to watch him grab up the pair of wooden clothespins you could only assume he’d snagged from the laundry room. Setting one on his bent knee, he lifted the other between the two of you and pinched it open.

“Hand.”

You instinctively reached out, covering his outstretched palm with yours. The fact you were behaving like a well trained dog hit you only seconds later and, flushing, you tried to retract your arm. Senkuu closed long digits around your knuckles and held you in place though, laughing as he brought the gaping maw of the clothespin closer.

“You can be a good girl when you want to be.” He said, teasingly light. “Tell me if this seems too painful.”

Whatever you might have thought about that ‘good girl’ comment died in your throat when he unceremoniously clamped the pin into place over the meaty tip of your pointer finger. You twitched at the sensation and let it ruminate for a prolonged beat before making your decision.

“It’s a little uncomfortable,” You told him honestly. “But not terrible.”

Senkuu’s eyes lit up with the excitement of a new discovery and he eagerly grinned from ear to ear. “How long do you think you’ll be able to handle it on your nipples?”

You thought about that. “Mm. Five minutes? Maybe more?”

Snickering, he plucked the clothespin from your finger, making you start at the sudden rush of feeling to the nerves. It was almost like the aching aftermath hurt worse than the initial sharp squeeze, or perhaps it was that you merely noticed it more when the constant pressure of the pinchers retreated, but either way you had to reconsider your estimation a bit.

Far from being intimidated though, you squirmed in eager excitement as Senkuu released your hand in favor of reaching for your nipple again. He took his time teasing the nub back to straining attention, your breath coming a little quicker at the resulting jolts of friction that had you practically vibrating on the bed. Once he was satisfied with the puckered state of your teat, he pinched around the areola so that he’d have a clear shot and lifted the clothespin. You held your breath, unable to look away even if you’d wanted to.

“I’m going to do it quick.” He warned.

You barely had enough time to register what he’d said before the unforgiving pegs closed around your nipple and you choked on a hurt grunt. Senkuu studied your expression carefully as you rocked forward on your knees, long spindly digits hovering over the item in question in case you suddenly blurted out ‘red’.

It was undeniably more painful than it had been on your finger but, you were surprised to find, breathing through it helped lessen the severity somewhat. The red hot burn quickly faded to a dull, throbbing ache and your toes curled when a fresh rush of endorphins surged through your system. Feeling unbearably flushed and borderline delirious, you shook even as you forced yourself to relax and settle on top of the comforter once again. Recognizing the obvious acceptance in your body language, Senkuu moved his hand to the other breast.

“You have no idea how incredibly attractive you look right now.” He breathed, sounding like this was finally having an affect on him.

You smiled, or tried to at any rate. Your bottom lip was quivering against your will and you bit down on it to stifle the stricken sound that tried to claw its way up your throat when Senkuu started plucking at your nipple with quick, borderline impatient strokes. Each burst of pleasure seemed to reflect in the opposite tit as pain and you were pitifully whimpering by the time he finally squeezed the areola between his fingers a short moment later.

Expecting another abrupt, squeezing pinch, you screwed your eyes shut and braced for the inevitable. Senkuu managed to catch you off guard when he closed the second clothespin around your nipple in taunting slow motion, forcing you to feel every little bit of force behind the simple contraption as it bore down on sensitive skin. A faltering groan erupted from your mouth before you could stop it and you arched into the air, balling your hands in the sheets.

“A - aaahh … Senkuu!”

He let go of the pin and withdrew his fingers, letting you feel the full brunt of its punishing squeeze. You moaned, breathless and strained, allowing your gaze to dart down and admire his handiwork. The sight of the clothespins sticking straight out from your breasts, the sore flesh of your nipples spilling out through the sides where they were pinched so tight that they had nowhere else to go, made you shudder so hard that you felt momentarily faint. Something about the way those benign implements of torture shook right along with you and emphasized the hurt you were feeling only seemed to turn you on all the more, and you enthusiastically jutted your tits up into the air for more. The space between your thighs was obscenely slick now and, hardly even realizing you were doing it, you finally gave into the urge to grind your pussy on the sheet with an accompanying wanton moan.

“Holy shit …” Senkuu hissed.

Mouth hanging open on one ragged, gasping pant after another, you peered up at him through the fall of your lashes. He was watching over your shameless display with nothing short of awe, creeping heat marching across his cheeks. Dropping your attention lower, you shuddered when you saw the tent pressing tight against the front of his slacks and instinctively circled your hips again. The amount of friction you derived from rubbing your sticky cunt on the bedspread wasn’t exactly satisfying, not nearly enough to get you off, but it felt good so you kept doing it much to Senkuu’s groaning approval.

“That’s it. Just like that.” He said on a heavy exhale. “You can cum as many times as you want but you’re not allowed to use your hands.”

You huffed and dropped your arm back to the bed where you’d already been reaching for your throbbing clit. Gently laughing at your predicament, Senkuu reclined back against the headboard and laced his fingers over his stomach. The way he shifted to ease the pressure in his pants drew your gaze to the very clear outline of his cock again and you let out a sobbing moan that seemed to echo off the walls.

“You really like it that much?”

You sniffled and jerked your head in a quick nod.

“Do you still think you can last five minutes?”

Mewling softly, you tucked your chin down to regard your chest again. “I don’t know … it’s intense. Every time I think I’m getting used to it, the pain kind of flares back up. Especially when the clothespins move.”

“I figured as much.” He said thoughtfully, the exhilarated note coloring his voice not going unnoticed. “And am I right to assume that’s the reason why you keep jostling them like that? Do you enjoy the way it hurts?”

“Senkuu …”

Closing your eyes, you pressed your cheek into your shoulder and drug your pelvis across the comforter with more fervor. It wasn’t enough. Not even close. It only made you want release all the more, and you whined in frustration.

“I’ll have to throw that blanket in the washing machine by the time you’re finished with it.” He teased.

“You’re so mean.”

“But you like it.”

Your face warmed, embarrassed to have him throwing your own words back at you. It was particularly bothersome in this situation when relief seemed like such a far off, unattainable goal and you lifted your head to fix him with an imploring pout that you already knew wouldn’t work on him. He’d proven himself immune to such tricks on multiple occasions in the past and you didn’t expect this instance to be any different, but that wasn’t going to stop you from trying.

“Ooh. That’s a cute face.” Lifting a mischievous brow, Senkuu pinned you with a deliberately sharp smirk. “I hope you manage to make yourself cum. I’d like to see how you and those clothespins look when you’re shaking through an orgasm.”

You let loose a high strung, undulating groan. “I caaan’t … it hurts!”

“It’s supposed to hurt. You’ve only gone about two and a half minutes though so I can’t take them off just yet.” He paused, watching you lean forward to grind your pussy against the bed from a different angle. A moment of quiet passed between the two of you, interspersed only by the sound of your labored breathing while you desperately tried to find orgasm on the sheets before he finally deigned to speak again. “Now what’s your color?”

It took you a prolonged beat to fully comprehend the question and another to find your answer. “I’m getting close to yellow.”

Noising his acknowledgement, Senkuu shifted against the headboard and spread his legs enough to be comfortable. He reached down and palmed his erection through the front of his pants with a tight squeeze and the sight alone made your pussy flutter. Mouth watering with the overwhelming desire to swallow his cock down your throat, you dazedly leaned forward until your pulsating cunt came up off the bed. Your hips twitched at the loss of friction and you hesitated, torn between two equally strong urges. Would you have rather eked out a shuddering, desperate orgasm for yourself or did you want to choke on him until your face was wet with reflexive tears? You honestly weren’t sure anymore, and Senkuu chuckled when he saw the war waging in your eyes.

“Don’t worry about me right now. I want you to keep rubbing yourself on my bed.” He told you in a low, devious tone. “I’d like to see you cum, but it’s okay if you really can’t. As long as it feels good that’s all that matters. Have you heard of Pavolov before?”

You closed your eyes and valiantly tried to process that, to no avail. “What?”

“It’s not important right now. I’ll explain later. I just think you’ll be able to last longer than you thought you could if you focus on the pleasure instead of the pain. It’s been almost four minutes now so you’re getting close. You can take the clothespins off if you need to.”

The eager, lilting note in his voice did not escape your notice and it seemed to warm you from the inside out. It made your loins curl to the point of true suffering and you moaned as you plopped your ass back down on the bed. Spreading your thighs as wide as you could, you braced your hands in front of you and ground your pelvis into the sheets with a stuttering exhale. Faint, tingling bursts of friction consumed your clit on each downward stroke but the stimulation wasn’t direct enough to accomplish much of anything. It only made you feel even more needy and feverish, your pussy pounding in time with your heartbeat as you numbly stared at Senkuu through a foggy, lust tinted lense. The pins bobbed on your screaming tits with every roiling heave of your body, delicate flesh burning raw, and you were ashamed to realize just how much you truly loved the hurt. It was intoxicating.

Licking his lips, Senkuu’s fingers dipped lower to caress the weight of his balls through cotton slacks and you groaned at the sight. “Four minutes and thirty seconds. You’re doing so good, baby …”

You swallowed the hysterical sound that tried to force its way up your throat as you slowed your desperate humping to a stilted halt. All that bouncing friction seemed to have made the unforgiving pinchers dig into your teats to the point of real discomfort and it suddenly felt like they were being assaulted by pins and needles. The undeniable pain made you wince and, seething, you gradually sat upright so you could peer down at your breasts. A frazzled, bleating groan instantly rolled off your tongue when you saw how the nipples had darkened over the last few minutes, the bulging skin looking bruised and unbearably tender.

Your hands flew up to remove them on instinctive autopilot, something not far off from genuine panic sparking in the back of your mind. The notion that your nipples would be permanently damaged after this was a scary thought but you stopped yourself from grabbing the clothespins when you realized how unlikely that was. There were much worse tortures that could have been inflicted on them and you knew Senkuu would never do anything to truly hurt you. If there was even a slim possibility of genuinely negative consequences with this sort of play then he would have approached it much differently.

That knowledge didn’t make it feel any better though and you gagged around a distressed whimper, swaying unsteadily on your knees.

“You can take them off if you need to. Don’t force yourself.”

You shook your head. “How much longer?”

Senkuu didn’t need to clarify what you were asking and, without missing a beat, he said “Fifteen seconds.”

You gulped down a frazzled gasp of air to steady yourself, keeping your hands poised just above the wooden pegs. They were digging into your nipples so excruciatingly hard that you could have wailed but you were close enough to the finish line that you couldn’t justify giving up. You’d said you could handle it for five minutes and, even though you recognized how greatly you’d overestimated your pain tolerance, you wanted to see it through to the end. The fact that Senkuu was watching you with an expression that was as impressed as it was turned on certainly helped bolster your determination and you emphatically shook when he opened his mouth to speak.

“Five seconds.”

Heaving, you hunched forward and braced yourself.

“Four. Three. Two. One.”

A haggard moan of relief burst out of you as you closed your fingers around the clothespins. Senkuu leaned forward, most likely with the intent of helping, but you couldn’t wait any longer. You pinched them open only to choke on a half stifled scream when the brutal pins seemed to cling to sensitive skin and pull. You instantly shook from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, letting loose a drawn out, keening wail as you gingerly removed them from your stinging tits. The pain was suddenly even worse, each sharp, throbbing burst felt throughout your entire body but especially in your pussy. You reeled when contracting walls clamped down on nothing except your own slick with enough force to make it ache and your clit pulsed impotently at the sensation.

It was a little embarrassing to find that this, too, was arousing in its own way and when Senkuu reached out to cup your breasts, you let him.

“Look at you.” He murmured, sounding just short of awe. “Such a good girl.You did a great job, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

Swallowing a blubbering, overwrought animal noise, you leaned into the comforting warmth of Senkuu’s body and allowed yourself to bask in the quiet praise he was showering you with. It made you feel beyond happy even while your withering nipples screamed in protest at the abuse they’d endured, your breath catching when he soothingly smoothed his palms over the raw tips. You had to turn your head and look at the far wall, bringing a hand to your mouth to stop the mewling whimpers that were building on your tongue from materializing. He was nothing but gentle with you though and the raw ache gradually faded to a dull burn under his steady ministrations over the next few moments. You felt like you were floating somewhere in purgatory, the space between heaven and hell some heady amalgamation of the two. It was perfect.

“Color?”

You struggled to find the answer to that when you were still lurching from the onslaught of stimuli. “Yellow-green.”

Senkuu snorted a brief laugh. “That’s not how the color system works, baby. I need a real answer or we’ll have to stop.”

Huffing, you slowly brought your attention around to look at him. “It was a hard yellow but now it's bordering on green. I liked it but then I hated it, and now I like it again.”

Warm smile curling his mouth, Senkuu shifted closer and carefully laid you down on your back. He was practically oozing approval as he slotted in beside you, mindful of not brushing his shirt against your breasts. You issued a stuttering sigh into the still air, curling your body towards him as he splayed long fingers across your stomach and comfortingly rubbed circles into the skin. The clean, soapy smell of him swarmed your senses, making you feel at peace when it settled over you like a familiar blanket.

Tilting your head, you followed his line of sight and glanced at your chest only to gasp when you saw how mangled your nipples looked. The indent from the unforgiving clothespins was stark and mildly alarming, the delicate flesh still pinched even without the pegs clamped around them. You mewled and squirmed, prompting Senkuu to crane his attention around to peer into your face again.

“Do you still like it?”

You squeezed your thighs together when that question made your pussy thrum with a resounding tremor so powerful you couldn’t have concealed it even if you’d tried. “Yes …”

Groaning in hushed encouragement, Senkuu slipped the hand on your belly further down to dip between your thighs. You shuddered when he curled bony fingers into the doughy soft flesh of your upper leg and hiked it over his hip, effectively baring your drenched cunt to the room. Feeling indescribably sensitive to even the smallest sensory input, you balled your fist into his white button up and twisted against him with a needy, wanton moan.

“Let’s see if you’re telling the truth.” He rasped, all sly confidence as he roughly drug the flat of his palm across your inner thigh.

You struggled to lift your head so you could watch what he was doing, sobbing quietly when Senkuu reached for your pussy. Every moment felt like an eternity, like he was moving in agonizing slow motion, and the first contact of his fingers on your labia made you jolt. He breathed out a somewhat surprised noise as he traced the length of your slit with halting, gliding passes that left you trembling uncontrollably next to him.

“You’re so wet …”

“Senkuuuu!”

Shushing you, he pressed a lingering peck to the swell of your breast. His focus was entirely on the spot between your legs though and the two of you choked at the same time when he pushed one of those sinfully long digits into your waiting body. No resistance, no pushback. You were so thoroughly soaked that he merely slid right into you straight down to the knuckle with an accompanying sticky click that seemed to reverberate off the walls. You arched your back and wheezed, toes curling uselessly in the air and against the sheets. It felt so indescribably good to finally have something, anything , inside your pounding cunt that you could have screamed.

“Damn.” He hissed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you already came at least twice. Did you really get this excited just from having your nipples clamped?”

You couldn’t take it any longer and you tossed your head back against the sheets, screwing your eyes shut. “I did! I did, sir, please! I want to cum so bad! Please make me cum and play with my tits some more! I’ll do anything, sir, I swear it! I -”

“What’s your color now?” He asked, cutting across your desperate babbling with ease.

“Guh - green!”

The faltering puff of air he let out tickled your chest, causing eager goosebumps to erupt across your skin. You seethed at the sensation and tilted your pelvis towards his hand, pathetically grinding on the finger that was lodged inside you. It wasn’t enough to get you off but it was still somehow gratifying and you keened.

Senkuu responded with a low, anticipatory grunt of his own, turning his head and closing his mouth around your abused nipple. A second digit slipped into your cunt at the same time, just as easily as the first had, and you went ramrod stiff against him. Your lips parted as if to scream but nothing came out. All you could do was shake as a tidal wave of sensation consumed you within the span of a single heartbeat, the dull throb from your teat when he gently laved it with his tongue bleeding seamlessly into the dizzying bursts of pleasure that were emanating from your contracting pussy. You couldn’t figure out which feeling to focus on, they were both too powerful to ignore. Too intense to differentiate one from the other. It was like drowning in the most wonderfully horrible carnal waters known to man and you couldn’t have been any happier about that.

“S - Senkuu! Oooh! Shit!”

Moaning around your nipple, he twisted his hand and pushed yet another finger into you. The stretch was finally too much for even your gushing arousal and you shook so hard that it seemed to rattle your teeth. Your heaving body resisted, contracting around the intrusion in a misguided attempt at denying him access, but Senkuu was able to worm it in right alongside the others with an enthusiastic wiggle. The pressure on your gummy upper wall doubled, blinding you with the sheer force of it, and your ass came up off the bed as you dug your feet into the mattress with a delighted shriek.

He easily followed you, keeping his digits buried inside your squeezing passage as he lapped at your teat more insistently than before. You could feel every little brush of his tongue in startling high definition, the meaty nub responding to the teasingly light friction as if it hadn’t been mercilessly mashed by a clothespin only moments ago. The powerful tinges of pleasure laced pain threatened to bowl you over on the spot and you writhed, growing more wild when Senkuu ground the heel of his palm against your neglected clit. You were tipping dangerously fast, fighting just to breathe through it while increasingly violent tremors wracked your body one right after another. He knew exactly how to play with your pussy to have you shattering around him in a matter of moments when that was his goal rather than denial and there was nothing you could do to stop it even if you’d wanted to.

“Please!” You cried out in urgency. “Right there! I’m gonna’ cum, Senkuu! Right theeere!”

Increasing the pressure he was exerting on your g-spot with his fingers, he dug his palm against your clit forcefully enough to make you lurch. You pulsating walls promptly clamped down on him, locked in dizzying tension for a small eternity while he rolled his hand into your flooding cunt. You sucked in a haggard gasp and the coil abruptly snapped, catching you off guard and making you scream as orgasm finally washed over you with all the destructive power of a crashing tsunami wave. It had you shaking so fitfully that it made the bed rattle, tears instantly springing up in your eyes while your mouth hung open in doped out bliss.

Allowing you to ride out the wild tremors on his soaked digits, Senkuu lifted his head to watch your face contort in mind numbing pleasure. You were only vaguely aware that he was staring at you from just a scant few inches away, much too caught up in your trembling ecstasy to give it more than a passing thought while your pussy was still noisily sucking on his fingers. The moment seemed to drag on forever but, just when you thought for sure you couldn’t handle much more, the contractions started to subside and you went limp on top of the bedspread with a deeply ruffled groan. You were totally spent. Achingly satisfied and comfortably floating somewhere on cloud nine, but ultimately spent.

“Hmm. You look like you enjoyed that.” Senkuu murmured, that sly edge creeping into his tone once again as he slowly withdrew his fingers from your body. “Final verdict?”

Wincing slightly at the sticky wet squelch that rose up between your legs, you groggily shifted to peer over at him. “It was good. Really intense at times, but I liked it.”

“So you’d be up to doing it again?” He said with a mischievous wiggle of his brows.

“Yes.” Laughing softly, you reached out to tuck one of the loose hanging, silver-white strands behind his ear. “But not today. My nipples hurt .”

“I bet.”

Dipping his face down, Senkuu brushed an apologetic kiss to the sore tip of your breast. You shuddered and let him do the same to the opposite teat before bringing your hands up to push at his narrow shoulders. He acquiesced without a fuss, letting you guide him back onto the bed as you sat up to hover over him. You licked your lips and reached for the buttons on his shirt, deftly undoing them one after another until the skin underneath was laid bare to you.

He deviously smirked when you leaned forward and kissed his collarbone before making your way down the lean expanse of his chest. Senkuu’s breath was slow and shallow under your mouth, a testament to the fact that he was still very much aroused, and you wasted no time busying your hands with his slacks. The click of the belt seemed loud in your ears, the following zrrrrt of the zipper just as deafening. You shifted over top of him and tugged his pants down long legs, throwing them over the side of the bed once they were free of his feet.

Sitting up on your knees, you gave him an appreciative once over. Senkuu looked like a luxuriating king sprawled out on the comforter in nothing but an open shirt and black boxer briefs, your sticky cunt stirring at the sight of him. The realization that maybe you weren’t entirely spent after all made you feel giddy as you trailed your nail down the center of his flat stomach tauntingly slow.

“Now it’s your turn ...”

[jaehyunspeachparty]

1.15 Christmas special

warnings: This story contains content that could be problematic for one or the other. Among other things, the story may contain content about sex, rape, late pregnancy, relationship with a large age difference, and others. Just because it's in the warnings doesn't mean these topics will appear, but they will definitely be covered in the story. The content of the story is fixed and doesn’t change. If you don't feel comfortable with these topics, then it's okay if you don't read the story. I just write down my ideas here and I just enjoy writing about life. The fact that some things in life are not rational or weird for some people is also part of it.

Miga opened her eyes and saw how Hyunjin was still asleep. She had stayed in the dorm that night ... the night before Christmas. Hyunjin invited her to watch Christmas movies and at some point she fell asleep on his shoulder. Not much has happened between the two. A couple of kisses, but everything else was innocent. She was still torn between him and Jaemin. But since the last time, she thought, that Jaemin had written her off. And she trusted Hyunjin, she had told him everything, he knows what she had to go through and he was patient. It was all a new experience for Miga. Men have never been so patient with her, especially when it comes to sex. But Hyunjin and Jaemin made no demands of her. Jaemin in particular always rejected her inquiries. Miga looked at the clock and was startled. It was 11 o'clock in the morning and she had to get home quickly because it was Christmas today. "Hyunjin ... I have to go." She shook him gently and then sat up. "Noooo ..." He turned to the side and hugged her hip. Miga had to smile and she stroked his hair. "It's Christmas. I have to go to my family." Miga kissed his head and then got up. His other members were still asleep or were also away to visit their families. "You're not from Seoul. Aren't you going to see your family?" Miga then asked and got dressed. "No ..." Hyunjin bowed his head and suddenly became very serious. Miga looked at him surprised and asked why he was hiding something from her. But Hyunjin thought again that she told him so much and he can now show a part of him to her. "My mum and sister died when I was very young." He didn't like to talk about it and didn't want that she feels sorry for him either, so hardly anyone knew that about him. "That means you don't have a family?", Miga asked worried and she couldn't imagine what it is like. After all, she had always lived in a big house with three brothers. "I have a father, but he's ... sick." Hyunjin grabbed his forehead and struggled with himself. "Hey, would you like to celebrate with us. If I explain that to Mum, she'll be glad to have you here." Miga sat down next to Hyunjin and looked at him worriedly. "And your father? Your offer is very sweet, but it's really okay." Hyunjin kissed her gently and smiled. "Okay, but call me when you're feeling lonely." She stroked his chest and Hyunjin nodded. She looked at him and he suddenly started smiling. "What is?", She asked and then Hyunjin pulled her back to her and kissed her. "I can't believe that you are here, that you are talking to me ... that you are kissing me." He touches her lips again and he didn't want to let go of her again. "Don't always say that." Miga shook her head and stroked his cheek. "I don't want to go, but Mum and Dad will go nuts if I'm not at home in time." She kissed Hyunjin one more time and then set off.

Sunoh videocalled Chichi who was still in Japan. He missed her more and more every day and he wanted so much to visit her. He was used to seeing her every day, spending time together and suddenly his day was so empty. And he was also worried about Chichi. Over time, he discovered that her roommates were bullying and terrorizing her. Chichi didn't say that, but he already noticed it. But now she was alone and he could talk to her in peace. "I wish you were here," Sunoh said with a sigh and he leaned into bed. "Me too." The girl looked so sad it almost pained Sunoh. And then suddenly she started crying and Sunoh found it so difficult to just watch her and not be able to do anything. "Please don't cry," he said desperately and was torn. "I'm sorry," she looked guilty at the floor and wiped away her tears, but Sunoh didn't want that either. "Chichi ... I just don't want you to be sad." Sunoh's heart was really broken and he wondered when the next flight to Tokyo would be. "Don't worry. You make me happy," she said then and smiled again. Sunoh's heart started beating wildly and he was so close to trying again and admitting his feelings to her. "Chichi ... I've wanted to tell you for a long time that I ..." "SUNOH!" Suddenly his door opened and his two little brothers came into his room and lay down in bed with him. "Haven't you heard of knocking yet?" He asked a little annoyed. "Hello Chichi," said the twins at the same time and grinned cheekily. "Hello Geon, Hello Kiwoo", she said and was happy to see the little ones again. Sunoh rested his head on the blanket and sighed. He wanted so much to confess his feelings to her and someone always intervened.

Later, when Miga returned home, Jaehyun decides to watch a Christmas movie with the children while you cook food for the family. You wanted to have some peace anyway, because you are on the phone with your sisters. "Are you at home?" Miga suddenly received a message from Jaemin. She quickly picked up her phone before her father saw it. "Yeah, I'm watching a Christmas movie with my dad and brothers." She answered him quickly before anyone became curious. "I'm standing in front of your house. Are you coming out for a minute? I have a present for you." Miga was surprised. With Jaemin it was always high and low and she never knew what to expect next. But that was something she found kind of exciting too. "Sooah just wanted to bring something over. I'll go out for a minute," Miga then lied and got up. "We don't press pause," said Kiwoo and grinned cheekily. "We watch the movie every year, I think I know what happens next." Miga rolled her eyes and then walked away quickly. She quickly put on her shoes and her coat and left the house. She immediately saw his car, which was black and elegant, and the windows were also tinted so that you couldn't tell who was inside. Jaemin was pretty famous, after all, and wanted privacy too. Miga then quickly opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. Jaemin looked good. His hair was styled, he was wearing a white shirt and his top button was open. "Hey," she said gently and Jaemin looked at her. "Hey," he greeted her quietly and turned to the side. He was so stunned from her. She looked so good and Jaemin found it harder and harder to resist her. The age difference was difficult, but why she was Jaehyun's daughter too? It was just too much. But she was perfect for him. He bit his lip and tried to keep his wits about it. "I didn't know you had anything for me." Miga grinned and leaned her head against the brown leather of the seat. You could see how Jaemin was struggling inside, he thought day and night whether he should go to her, after all there was always the danger that Jaehyun could see him. "I saw it and thought it is perfect for you." He suddenly took out a turquoise box and handed it to her. Miga accepted it in disbelief, because she saw immediately that this was something from Tiffanys. "Jaemin this is ..." Words couldn't help her and she hoped it was just a key fob or something. "If you don't like it, it's not a problem," he said uncertainly and Miga first pulled down the white ribbon and opened the box. And when she looked at the inside, she could hardly believe it all. It was a bracelet made of pure diamonds. The setting was gold, in the middle was a diamond flower and everything was surrounded with further diamonds. Miga didn't even want to imagine how much it cost. "Jaemin this is ..." She still had no words. "Don't you like it?", Jaemin asked immediately concerned and Miga shook her head. "It is wonderful." She could hardly take her eyes off the diamonds. She had worn expensive things before, for example for a photo shoot, but she had never owned anything so expensive. "I'm glad you like it." Jaemin looked relieved and watched her reaction closely. "But Jaemin, that's way too much." Miga lowered the box and now looked at Jaemin. "It suits you and that is the most important thing," he said very modestly, pretending it was a cheap plastic bracelet. "Jaemin I didn't know ... I have nothing for you now." Miga felt incredibly bad. After what had happened, she thought that he didn't want anything to do with her anymore. But at that moment he leaned forward to her and kissed her. She was surprised, because she hadn't expected it anymore, but she enjoyed it. Jaemin's kiss was so passionate, so intense. She felt his tongue and his did a wild dance with hers. Jaemin kissed her like he was making up for the days when he couldn't kiss her. She closed her eyes and felt his hand come to rest on her hip so he could pull her closer to him. Unfortunately, car seats weren't ideal for being that close. But Jaemin was kind of happy about it too. Over time, it became harder and harder for him to resist her, especially since they also made a drama together. "You are the best present for me," he then whispered and almost couldn't believe how open he was with his feelings. Miga looked at him with big eyes and she was so happy inside that he felt that way. She was about to say something, but suddenly Jaemin's phone rang. He made a short phone call and when he was finished he sighed and turned to Miga. "I have to go. My mum is waiting." He then smiled gently and stroked Miga's hand. "I should go before whoever wonders where I am." Miga smiled and enjoyed his touch. And just before she got out he pulled her to him again and kissed her goodbye. Completely in a trance, she got out of the car when she suddenly saw you. You went outside to throw away the trash and you knew this car. "Was that Jaemin?" You ask your daughter in surprise. "Uh ... huh? In the car? So yeah, that was Jaemin." Miga stammered these words to herself and didn't quite know how to face you. "What did he want?" You ask further, because it all seemed strange to you. "I still had to sign something about the script," Miga lied and hoped that you wouldn't ask any further questions. "Couldn't your father bring you that?" You ask further. "Um, no. Jaemin saw the producer today and quickly brought the document over." Miga got hot because she doesn't like to lie to you. You've always had an open and honest relationship, but everything has been difficult between you for a few weeks. "Aha", you don't quite believe her, but now there was no point in forcing her to tell the truth. Still, you decide to keep an eye on the whole thing. Miga then quickly ran to her room, lay down on the bed and looked at the diamond bracelet. It looked so elegant and so classy. She couldn't believe Jaemin gave her something so expensive. She was interested in how much it had cost, so she did a little research on the Internet. It wasn't long before she found it on the Tiffany website. The diamonds were 18 carats and cost a total of KRW 25,300,000. Miga stared at the piece of jewelry and suddenly no longer knew what to think. You may have thought it cost KRW 1,700,000. But that was insane. How could she have accepted that?

providentia masterlist

daddy jaehyun masterlist

[plus-size-reader]

Common Ground

Bellamy Blake x Plus size!reader and John Murphy x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1376 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Bellamy and Murphy both have a thing for the reader, and when you get into some trouble on a run with some grounders, they both fight to protect you. It’s the only thing they can agree on.

——————————————————————————————————

You had no idea what kind of danger was waiting for you in the vast woods of the forest and in all honesty, you didn’t care.

Foraging was the hundreds prime source of resources right now, and someone had to collect them.

Usually, Jasper and Monty went out together but after his accident, Jasper was out of commission and Monty wasn’t going to go alone.

...But you could.

It would only take you a couple hours and then you’d be back. No one else would even have to know. Nothing that bad could happen in such a short time, right?

Wrong.

You had only made it a couple miles, before you tripped and skinned your shin and that wasn’t the worst of it.

The worst came when you stumbled onto grounder territory.

They were understandably upset at your appearance there, and in that moment, you realized why no one ever went into the woods alone.  

You clearly weren’t getting out of here with your negotiation skills alone.

Luckily, some miles away, Bellamy and the others had just started getting up and about with the sunrise. It was only a matter of time before they found you...or, at least, you hoped so.

At this current moment, you were tied to a tree, beaten and bruised. As best you could tell, they thought you had information.

Not that you could be sure.

No one was exactly translating for you during this entire time.

“Where the hell is she?” Murphy grumbled, pulling open every tent he came across looking for you. Usually, you were up and around by now, a fact that he only knew because he watched your every move.

Something terrible must have happened.

That was the one conclusion he could draw due to your absence. By this point, John had practically torn the whole camp apart, and you weren’t in it.

“Calm down, what are you talking about?” Bellamy tried, noticing almost immediately that Murphy was about to lose his mind. Whatever he was rambling about, it was starting to freak the others out.

A mass panic wasn’t something the hundred could handle right now.

“Y/N, she’s gone” the other man spat, they were wasting time. Wherever you were, they had to find you before something horrible happened.

When this morning started, Bellamy assumed that Murphy was just being a dick and making a bigger deal than necessary.

...But as soon as he said that key word, your name, it was Bellamy’s turn to panic.

The two men had little in common, but when it came to you, there was a bit of wiggle room. John’s love for you wasn’t new, and Bellamy’s own infatuation had started when you hit the ground.

It was instant, but for whatever reason, you didn’t seem to notice.

Even so, it was going to serve you well today.

There was no better way to get both John and Bellamy to work together than to put you at the center of it.

“Well where could she have gone? She doesn’t have watch today” Bellamy wondered, he intentionally kept you off watch, as he worried it would be too dangerous.

Murphy only scoffed, “I know that” he didn’t really care if Bellamy had feelings for you too. It was a simple truth that they both had to deal with, but he also didn’t want Bel to think that he didn’t care as much as he did.

Nothing could be farther from the truth.

Not that that was the most pressing issue at hand right now.

“What I mean is that she shouldn’t be gone” Bellamy groaned, putting up with Murphy was well worth getting you back in one piece but that didn’t make it any easier.

You were out there and between the two of them, you were going to be home by dark.

There was no other option.

“I’ll pack some water and supplies and meet you at the gate in twenty minutes” John finally decided, after taking a few minutes to collect his thoughts.

Finding you was their only option.

~ They did find you, eventually, but that didn’t mean either man was any more relaxed than they had been all morning.

“Right there” Murphy spoke first,  gesturing over to where you were, leaning up against a tree. From what they could tell, you were still breathing but that was about the only good news.

Bellamy was the first to meet your side but John wasn’t far behind. You could see the two of them, even though the edges of your vision were a little blurry.

Everything hurt but that didn’t mean you were any less glad to see them. Having both men here meant that you were safe, and no one could do anything more to you.

You would be fine.

“Are you okay? Are you alright?” he repeated, touching lightly on your face to try to figure out what was going on. There were already some bruises blooming there, and who knows where else.

...But you were conscious and still breathing. That was a start, and they could get everything else figured out back at the camp.

“I’m fine, my head just hurts a little”  you tried, doing your best to keep your voice as calm as possible. Depending on what you really looked like, they were liable to never leave your side again.

At the very mention of it, Murphy started rummaging through his bag, seemingly having thought of something else. “Give her this” he suggested, kneeling down beside Bellamy toward you holding a water bottle out to Bell.

You likely hadn’t had anything to drink lately and that could have something to do with the pain in your head.

There was a sharp pain on your right side under your ribs as you moved to take it, but you ignored it after a small wince. You hadn’t realized just how thirsty you were until you had a sip.

After all, you weren’t really thinking about getting a drink until now.

“Thank you,” you muttered, your voice broken between sips, the plastic cracking beneath your fingers. You had no idea why you thought you could ever come out here alone.

You were almost sure that you would never be allowed out of either Bellamy or John’s sight again.

“I’ll carry her back” Murphy offered, sliding one arm under your knees and another behind your back. He was completely serious about this but as soon as he suggested it, Bellamy laughed.

There was no way Murphy was strong enough to carry you all the way back.

“Let me do it. I don’t want you to drop her” he grinned, knowing that he couldn’t resist landing a little jab at John, even in a moment like this. He knew for a fact that he was more capable of carrying you back through the forest.

For all he knew, Murphy was going to trip on a stray tree branch and drop you in the dirt. In the shape you were in, it could be incredibly dangerous for your recovery.

“I’m not going to drop her” he groaned, turning his attention fully to the other male. He shouldn’t have even brought Bellamy out here.

He could have found you all on his own.

It wasn’t until you sighed that they broke it up. You knew that the two of them were never going to get this figured out between themselves. They could go on bickering for hours and you didn’t want to sit here anymore.

“Can we please just settle this when we get back to camp? I can walk just fine if you two want to help me” you suggested, using the hold John had on you to stand up.

As soon as you were on your feet, Bellamy braced his arm around your waist on your right side, with Murphy on the other side.  It would take a little longer this way, but you knew it was better to involve them both.

There was much less arguing that way.

You just hoped that the two of them would finally find a way to get over their silly little rivalry throughout the process of your healing.

If anything was going to bring the two of them together, it was you.

[ncssian]

family therapy

summary: cassian is sick of watching nesta and lucien fight all the time, and decides they need professional help. (oneshot)

a/n: this takes place in the same crescent city universe (not a crossover just an au) as this oneshot. you don't need to read that one to understand this one, but they exist in the same world/timeline.

"And how does that make you feel, Lucien?"

"It makes me feel like I dislocated a shoulder, because I did," the fae male grumbled.

Nesta scoffed without looking at him. "You're such a pussy."

"Can't be worse than being an insufferable bitch."

From his spot in the corner of the room, Cassian's jaw ticked at the insult, but he kept his mouth shut. The therapist, Helen, gave Nesta and Lucien a firm look. "What did we agree to about communication in my office?"

A few moments of silence, then Lucien muttered, "Sorry." Nesta echoed him.

"Don't say it to me," Helen said in her smooth tone. "Say it to each other."

"I'm good," Nesta said.

"Nesta." The low warning came out of Cassian's mouth before he could help it. Helen turned to look at him for the first time all session. "And who are you again?" she asked, confused.

Cassian flustered, wanting to be left out of this as much as possible. "I'm her ride," he said honestly. His massive dove-gray wings explained the rest.

Lucien snorted. "Is that what you're calling it now?"

"Okay, I've had about enough of you—" Nesta grabbed for a couch pillow to smack Lucien with.

It was plucked out of her hand before it could make contact with Lucien's scarred face. Nesta whirled on Cassian, glaring. "You promised you'd stay out of this," she hissed.

"I'm paying for this session," he said simply, the calm to her raging fire.

Helen was eyeing all three of them like she didn't get paid enough for this, but she pursed her lips and waited until everybody had settled before speaking again.

"Now," she said tersely, "why don't we start at the beginning?"

***

It was Elain's birthday party, and this year she'd wanted a rager. Lucien, ever the dedicated male, had set up a fine enough party using his dad's money and extensive list of rich friends.

Nesta wrinkled her nose at a pair of grinding werewolves as she walked through the crowded living room, wondering where her sister was in the midst of all this. Cassian's presence was a warm force at her back, keeping her from getting smothered by random Vanir on all sides. She self-consciously tucked the skirt of her minidress down, wishing she hadn't worn white when so many...liquids were sloshing around.

In the dim pink light of the room, she caught a flash of gold and red near the cake table. Her eyes narrowed, locked onto its target, and she sped up her walk until she was face to face with Lucien Vanserra.

"Nice whorefest you've set up, kid."

Lucien turned to her with a fake smile, ready to fight instantly. "Nesta," he greeted sweetly. "Still beating that joke to death, I see."

Years ago, when Nesta had been drunk and feeling particularly vengeful, she'd found herself taking Lucien's father, Helion, to bed. Even now, she liked to remind Lucien of it every now and then by making stepmom jokes at him. And she wasn't about to stop.

"It's not a joke." Nesta didn't bother with the fake smiles. "It's part of my very real multistep plan to marry your dad, make Cassian my lover on the side, become your stepmother, and ruin your life by inches."

"I think you overestimate your ability to ruin my life any more than you already have." Lucien poured something bloodred into a plastic cup. Was he drinking wine at a rager? Gods, she hated him.

"Where is Elain?" she snapped.

"With her friends. You know, because she actually has them."

Nesta sneered. "When are you planning on breaking up with her so she can lead a better life?"

Lucien raised his cup in announcement. "Around the same time you plan on quitting being such a bitch." And then, he tipped over his cup. Wine poured all over the front of her dress, dribbling into her cleavage and soaking her bra. He looked Nesta in the eye. "So, never."

Nesta didn't blink. She didn't know where Cassian had gone off to, and she didn't care. Without looking away from Lucien, she plunged her hand into the three-tier cake on the table— Elain's birthday cake. "This," she smeared the chunk of cake across Lucien's face, "is why your family doesn't love you." She shook clumps of frosting off her hand.

If Lucien was hurt by her words, he hid it well with a smirk. "That's not what your sister was saying last night—"

At that moment, Nesta headbutted him— she rammed into his torso and took him all the way into the wall, then the floor.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" he spluttered beneath her, trying to fend off her tiny hands as they slapped at his chest.

"Fuck you!" Nesta screamed at him.

If people hadn't been watching before, they definitely were now. Out of the corner of her eye. Nesta could see Cassian appear at the edge of the crowd, spot Nesta beating the shit out of Lucien, and then immediately turn around to mind his own business.

Good. He knew better than to interfere when it came to Lucien.

Lucien, being taller and stronger, managed to shove Nesta off his body and into the cake table, but before he could pounce and elevate the fight even further, he was hauled backwards by a pair of small hands.

"What the hell is going on here?" dainty Elain Archeron roared.

***

"And where is Elain in all of this?" Helen asked.

"She stayed home, lest this get any more incestuous than it already is." Lucien crossed his bare arms over his chest.

Cassian snorted at the word "lest", because really, who used that in their everyday vocabulary if they weren't Nesta?

Lucien narrowed his eyes at him, one russet and one gold. "What's so funny, angel?"

Cassian had to reign in his smile. "You talk like Nesta," he said. "And sometimes Nesta talks like you."

"That's stupid," Lucien said at the same time Nesta said, "Don't be stupid, Cassian."

The pair glared at each other, only to instantly look away.

"Well." Helen inhaled a deep breath and looked at her notes. "There are a few things I'd like to touch on during this session, especially after what I've heard about this birthday party." She glanced up at Nesta and Lucien. "You two used to be fairly good friends. Can you pinpoint when the animosity began?"

"Well," Lucien pretended to think, "it might have something to do with the time she fucked my dad."

Nesta scoffed. "Like you sleeping with my sister is any better."

"Which happened first?" Helen asked.

Nesta was silent, which was answer enough. Cassian would have rather been anywhere else than discussing Nesta's past sex life, but he knew she needed this.

"Nesta, what was your reasoning behind this?"

Cassian knew this answer, but he didn't know if Nesta would admit it.

Her blue-gray eyes burned with indignant rage. "Do I need a reason? I liked him, I was of age, so I slept with him."

Lucien shook his head. "I'm surprised you stopped at my father. You could've gone through all my brothers, too. Remember that crush you had on Eris?"

Nesta gasped, looking at Lucien with horror and— embarrassment. Cassian narrowed his eyes, torn between being offended on his girlfriend's behalf and being intrigued by this new piece of information.

"You promised you would never tell anybody," she said, her voice uncharacteristically high. Lucien squinted at her. "Are you crying?"

"No!" Nesta blinked furiously.

"There's nothing wrong with crying," Helen assured her. "But Nesta, I have a feeling you're not being entirely honest with us, and we can't get anywhere without honesty."

Nesta glared with red eyes at the wall, and Cassian met Lucien's gaze and held up his hand in a wait gesture.

Once Nesta was decidedly calm, she let out a breath and grumbled, "He was my first friend."

Lucien glanced at her, surprised, but didn't say anything.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "When we moved to Crescent City, he was my only friend, and I thought we liked each other. I thought we understood each other, but then he— " she swung her glare around to Lucien, "was just using me to get to my sister."

"That's not—"

"This is Nesta's turn to speak, Lucien," Helen cut him off.

Nesta was talking to Lucien now. "The showing up at my house late with beer, hanging around with me all the time while your friends were out having a life— it was all so you could get closer to Elain, because she trusted anybody I liked and you knew it."

Lucien's mouth tightened. "That's why you slept with my dad? Because I took Elain out on a date and you wanted revenge?"

"You forgot about me as soon as you had her. We were drifting apart long before I did anything with Helion, trust me."

Lucien was quiet for a long time. "It's true that I liked Elain from the day you all moved in down the street," he finally said. "But she was never my friend the way you were. And just because I liked spending time with her doesn't mean I didn't like spending time with you. It's comparing apples and oranges; I loved you both."

Nesta blinked. "But you don't anymore?"

Lucien didn't answer, and eventually Helen cleared her throat. "I'm really proud of the progress we just made, but I'm afraid our time is up."

Cassian sat up at that. "You can't cut them off here, they just had a—" he waved his hand, "breakthrough or something."

"And it was very powerful," Helen nodded. "Which is why I suggest going home and reflecting on what we learned today until our next session."

It was Nesta and Lucien's turns to sit up. "There's another session?" she demanded.

"As many as it takes until you two are at a healthy place with each other again." Helen smiled in a polite way that surely made Nesta feral, Cassian knew. He had a suspicion that his pockets wouldn't see the end of this.

Lucien was already getting to his feet and stretching. "Yeah, maybe we should just hug and make up now and call it a day."

At the look of blatant disgust on Nesta's face, he rolled his eyes. "Or maybe not, damn."

Helen got up and smiled that fake smile again. "See you next week." She turned to Cassian. "Should I email you the invoice now or later?"

***

Despite the day's revelations, Nesta and Lucien didn't last a minute once they left the therapist's office. Or rather it was because of the recent revelations, that they felt the need to return to normal.

"You look like such a douchebag in those shirts," Nesta snapped.

"It's just a shirt!"

"WHERE ARE THE SLEEVES?"

"Like I'm going to take fashion advice from someone who's boyfriend only wears black like it's wartime!"

Cassian didn't think that was fair. His shirt was dark gray today.

Nesta and Lucien's voices blended into one jumbled shouting match as they furiously walked out of the building.

"You know what, don't even bother calling me for our weekly recaps this time."

"I wasn't planning on it."

"I'm blocking your number right now." Nesta was digging her phone out of her bag.

"Good," Lucien seethed. "Text me when you get home safe before you do it!"

"Fine!"

"Good!"

They spun on their heels at the same time, Lucien storming away in one direction while Nesta did her furious little speedwalk towards Cassian in the other.

At the end of the street, Cassian gathered Nesta in his arms as he prepared to fly them home. "Why can't you just tell him you care for him like you do with your sisters?"

Nesta braced her hands on Cassian's biceps and glared. "Because he's not like my sisters. He's a male."

Cassian's lips quirked up in amusement. "So like a brother?"

Nesta grumbled something unintelligible, but she didn't deny it. Cassian had a feeling she wouldn't be blocking Lucien's number anytime soon. Still, he was proud of the progress she had made today.

Dropping a kiss onto her hair, he spread his wings wide and shot them into the sky.

***

a/n: i said bryce and ruhn but make it nesta and lucien. also the fight scene was better with shiv and roman from succession 😭 hope you guys liked it.

if i was supposed to tag you but didn't or if i wasn't supposed to and i did, it's probably because i have you on the wrong tag list! just shoot me a message so we can fix that.

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @clolikescloquetas

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

U N P L A N N E D, part 1

There was one other time when you found yourself like this. Just once. 

In a bathroom stall in your college dorm room, your roommate on the other side with bated breath. What’s it say? She had asked, her voice echoing off the beige tiles that spilled into the messy living room, littered with solo cups and stale tortilla chips.

This time you were alone. No roommate on the other side of the door, no beige tile. Instead, a clean, white bathroom nestled on the third floor of the Los Angeles Facebook office. 

The white plastic stick in your hand, this time, showed a tiny plus sign. A light pink symbol of what was usually happiness. But alone in the bathroom at work didn’t feel like a happy place. 

You stared down at it, wondering if the tears in your eyes were responsible for the blurring of the result. You shook it, wiped at your eyes, and checked again. Still positive. 

So you capped it and tossed it into the top drawer of your desk a few minutes later, more than happy to pretend that it wasn’t a looming disaster. A life-changing, career-altering disaster. 

When it burned a hole in your drawer, begging you to open it and pray that the plus sign had changed, you decided to text Lexi. 

Y/N L/N (3:34pm): Broke down and took a test. 

You put your phone face down, hoping that an impending text from your roommate wouldn’t create a higher heart rate than what was already pounding in your ears. You tried to take a few breaths. 

This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t the way you pictured life and it certainly wasn’t the way you pictured your summer. When the phone buzzed next to your mouse, you grabbed it so quickly you almost dropped it to the floor. 

Lexi MacMillan (3:35pm): And??

Y/N L/N (3:35pm): Positive.

You stared at the screen, watched as the three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again, and then vanished. You imagined Lexi sitting on set, maybe in her dressing room or maybe right beside her co-star, typing and erasing, typing and erasing. 

You ignored the email that came through on your computer, likely a request from a team member to edit one of your last images, this marketing campaign is due at 5pm! This marketing campaign was also the furthest thing from your mind right now. 

Your phone started buzzing in your hand, a picture of Lexi with big white sunglasses splashed itself across the screen. You answered it quickly, holding a hand up to your mouth to keep your voice low and your words private.

“Hi,” you said, heading back for the bathroom that was around the corner from your office. 

“What the actual fuck, dude? Are you serious?”

“Yes--why would I lie about that? Do you think I’m that twisted?!”

She let out a noise of exasperation. “No, I just--I don’t know--I thought you were being paranoid or some shit! I didn’t think it was actually possible!”

“Me neither,” you said, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the cool metal. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright. People get false positives all the time, right?”

Her voice was suddenly more relaxed than it had been, like she realized how serious this was and how fucked you were. 

“I think people get false negatives,” you replied, defeated.

“Okay, well, you can take another test tonight.”

“Okay.”

“And then if it’s still positive, you have to go to the doctor. That’s the first thing.”

“Right.”

“They’ll do another test there,” she informed you. 

“Uh huh.”

You thought back to your most recent sexual encounter, half drunk and giggly, white linens and sneaking out when he was asleep on top a memory foam pillow. Lexi already made it home, she was high on the couch with a bag of pretzels when you sauntered in at 4am. You made pizza bagels and laughed until sunrise about the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in what felt like ages. 

I don’t know how you made it that long, she said. You must have an extremely low sex drive. 

Or you just have a high one, you laughed. You’re always horny. 

You didn’t think about it again for weeks. Okay, that was a lie. The drinks were good and the sex had been even better. Lexi had dragged you along to the party even though you knew all the players. You had deadlines for days coming up and a Sunday night didn’t seem like a good time to end up drunk somewhere near Laurel Canyon. But you went anyway.

The first time you realized something might be off was when you were a day late. It never happened. You lived your life on schedule and your period followed the rules--it was no exception. It typically came in the morning, and by bedtime, you were only a bit concerned. You went to sleep with confidence that you’d wake up to it. 

The second day came and went, too. Lexi put on her OBGYN hat and assured you that it was nothing to worry about. Women are late all the time, uteruses have a mind of their own, really. 

Days three and four were busy at work. Five and six were spent finalizing ideas for a new commercial campaign for a product launch, dinner with Lexi and Glenne. It wasn’t until the seventh day, when the light purple app on your phone gave a gentle nudge. Be sure to log your period! 

There was no way you’d miss it altogether. You’d been careful and you watched him toss the condom into a garbage bin in the bathroom through tired eyes. He fell asleep beside you while he traced a circle on your skin--you were sure you’d never hear from him. 

So you slipped out in the early morning light and took an Uber home, knowing that while it might not mean anything, it was at least a story to tell your close friends and to keep tucked away in your mind. 

“Okay--I have to go,” Lexi said suddenly. “Derek’s being a dumbass today and can’t get his fucking lines right, so, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay,” you said, voice small, blurry-eyed again. You let yourself slump down to the floor, at least thankful that this time, the tile wasn’t beige. 

You did your best to make it through the rest of the day, playing Lexi’s words over and over in your head. People get false positives all the time! You weren’t so sure, but telling yourself that seemed to quell the nausea. 

Traffic was heavy on the way home, sunglasses pushed up on your face and radio high enough to drown out your thoughts. You parked your car on the same leaf-littered street in Century City, walked the block to your apartment, and dropped your bag on the floor before heading for the bathroom. 

Lexi keyed in right after you sat down, water on to induce the stream of urine that you had prayed for the whole way home. 

“Hi,” she said, pushing her sunglasses off of her face and dropping her keys on the kitchen counter. She let out a small laugh at the sight of you: pants around your ankles, hair up in a scrunchie, pink plastic cap in your mouth as you held the second stick between your legs. 

The afternoon sunshine danced through the window, a breeze from the open sliding door felt like sweet relief in your stuffy first floor apartment.

“Hi,” you breathed out, flushing and pulling up your pants before capping the test and putting it on the counter. 

She took a few steps towards you, her eyes wider than usual. “How long does it take to show up?” 

“I don’t know--a minute or two, maybe? The first one was quick.”

She came over and stood beside you, her eyes on the tiny window where the result would appear. She crossed her arms and leaned over, letting her shoulder bump into yours. 

There was one line forming, like fog fading in the early morning, the other came into view as the two of you stood side by side. You let out a shaky breath--tears in your eyes again when she turned to see you. 

“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not the end of the world.”

You didn’t say anything in response, but a few sobs escaped through your lips when she wrapped her arms around you. She smoothed your hair with her hand and eventually brought you back to the kitchen, pulling two beers out of the fridge and setting them on the counter as she rummaged through a drawer for a bottle opener.

“I can’t have that!” You said, pointing at it like it was poison, mascara smudged beneath your eyes.

“Oh fuck,” she said, a small laugh from her mouth pulled one from yours, too. “Damn--sorry, it just--felt like a good option.”

“It would be,” you said. “Typically.”

She was quiet for a second. “Is it his?”

You shrugged, staring at the shade of dark red polish on your nails. “Has to be, right?”

“You haven’t had sex with anyone else?” 

She asked as if she didn’t know. You shook your head. 

She sighed. “That, uh, that makes it a bigger deal.”

“I know--I don’t even--what am I supposed to do? Call him up and tell him? I don’t even have his number.”

“Maybe we should call Glenne.”

“No!” You said quickly, shaking your head with force. “Don’t bring her into it yet. She’ll just tell Jeff and I need to figure shit out first.”

Lexi bit her lip, torn between the two options. She’d known Glenne since they were kids, they grew up down the street from each other in Sherman Oaks and when they got drunk enough, they tried to remember the super secret handshake they’d made up in the 8th grade. 

You’d met Glenne plenty of times in college, especially after Lexi became a more permanent fixture in your life. You’d met Lexi at resident assistant training the fall of your sophomore year, but you still had no clue how adults trusted her to be in charge of eighteen students each semester. 

The party was at Glenne’s house--the one she shared with her boyfriend Jeff. You’d met him a handful of times, too, but you typically opted out of the dinner parties or cocktail hours that Lexi invited you to. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like her friends. They’d always been nice and welcoming, but being the one person not involved in the entertainment industry normally left you feeling like the odd man out. 

What's the latest at Facebook? They’d ask, gathered around a table with wine glasses in hand. 

You’d give them the update, tell them about whatever marketing campaign you’d been working on or whatever new feature you’d helped with, but the conversation always made it’s way back to music or acting or something in between. 

Glenne worked for Apple Music in artist relations, her boyfriend for a prominent artist management firm. Lexi MacMillan, a self-proclaimed B-list actress in a new Netflix series, fit right into their world of Teslas and hedge fund investments. 

She never liked to admit that she came from money, and she was more than humble about the uneven split in your rent or the fact that she often paid for groceries. Your salary at Facebook was good--more than a lot of your other friends who had graphic design and marketing degrees, but it was small in comparison to the type of money the rest of them were pulling in. 

“Well she’s gonna be the easiest way to get in touch with him.”

“I know,” you waved a hand and took a seat at the island. “Just, not yet. I mean, don’t you think I’ll need proof? I can’t just show up on his doorstep and say: ‘hey, remember me? I’m your manager’s girlfriend’s friend’s friend and we had sex one time at your house in late April and now I’m pregnant?’”

She stifled a laugh, nodding as if it was a good idea, her tone completely serious. “I mean personally I would love to see you do that.”

“Well, I’m not,” you said firmly. “There must be rules for this type of shit. I don’t know the etiquette.”

“You mean the baby mamma etiquette?”

You shot her a look, narrowed eyes before you let your forehead rest on the counter, a groan from your lips. “My life is over, Lexi--this is seriously the worse thing that can happen.”

She brought the beer bottle up to her lips to take a swig. “Which is why we should call Glenne.”

“I have to go to the doctor first, okay? That way we don’t stir up any shit without really knowing if they’re right or not.” You motioned over your shoulder to the test you’d left behind on the bathroom counter. The other, from earlier, was still in the side pocket of your work bag. 

Lexi nodded, brown eyes with a new shade of sympathy. 

**

A woman bounced her baby on her knee, big blue eyes looked up at the two of you, nervous and caving inward in the waiting room chairs. 

“Do they all stare like that?” Lexi leaned over and whispered, her gaze fixed on the tiny human beside you. 

“I don’t know,” you said quickly, hoping she wouldn’t make any other remarks. She didn’t--quickly distracted by the nurse who called your name and greeted you both with a smile.

“Y/N?” 

You stood, walked forward and ignored the nervousness in your stomach. Lexi was following behind, she’d been positive and upbeat in the car as if heading over to the gynecologist for what you’d both been referring to as a legit test was a typical Wednesday morning errand. 

“Are you her partner?” The nurse smiled over at her when she pointed at a chair in the hallway for you to sit in. She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around your arm when Lexi pulled her head back. 

“No, just her roommate.”

“Just my roommate,” you nodded, repeating her words as if that’d ease the tension in your muscles. 

The nurse smiled, scribbled a few numbers on a post-it and before handing you a small, plastic cup. You disappeared into the bathroom and realized you’d never thought so much about pee in your entire life. When you were done, you walked back to the small room that the same nurse pointed you towards to find Lexi in the small visitor’s chair beside the paper-lined exam table.

She looked up quickly, a life-like plastic uterus was in her hands. “I maybe broke it.”

“Put it down,” you ordered, rolling your eyes at her childlike curiosity. “Let’s just get in and get out, okay?”

“Knock knock!” A voice from the doorway, Laura Weston, red hair and blue eyes. Her white coat covered a pink blouse, one that matched the color of blush on her cheeks. “Good to see you, Y/N--who’s this?”

Lexi extended her hand and smiled. “Lexi MacMillan, roommate and moral support, nice to meet you.”

“So I hear there’s a possibility of pregnancy?” Dr. Weston sat down on a rolling stool, picked up the chart on the counter and flipped through some pages. She closed it, waited a second, and offered a smile when you didn’t answer. “How are you doing?”

You nodded, licked at your lips, and then met her gaze. “Been better.”

You’d been seeing Dr. Weston for a while--you found her card in the health services building on campus during your Freshman year. Now, a whole seven years later, her smile was a calming presence in a moment of fear and uncertainty. 

“Well, note says you’ve taken two tests, and they were both positive?”

You nodded again. “Just a drugstore brand, though. I don’t know how accurate they are.”

She tilted her head side to side, lifted her shoulders a bit when she rolled towards the counter. “They’re good enough--we’re running the urine sample now and that’ll give a good idea, too. Would you like to do a blood test to be sure?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Let’s do that.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “I’ll have Justine order that for the lab downstairs.” She produced a paper wheel diagram, the colors of the rainbow seemed to distinguish different parts of a typical menstrual cycle. “When was your last period?”

Lexi handed over your phone. “April, the middle of the month. I was due eight days ago.” You pulled up the app that now seemed like less of a friend and more of a source of shame. You were proud of how well you knew your cycle. You could typically tell when you were ovulating, knew enough about your PMS symptoms to know what to expect. 

“And do you know when the possible date of conception was?”

“April 18th,” a tinge of red on your cheeks. “That’s the only possibility.”

So sure, maybe you weren’t the most sexually active human on the planet. Maybe you were slightly embarrassed that the first time you had sex in a good eleven months resulted in a possible pregnancy. 

She scribbled something on a piece of paper, just like the nurse had. A knock on the door that Dr. Weston had shut behind her. The same nurse delivered another post-it note. Pink this time, not blue like before. Dr. Weston took it in her hands and then looked up at you, an unreadable look on her face when the nurse quietly left the room.

“That urine sample read positive, too.”

You didn’t mean to do it again, but another shaky breath left your mouth and Lexi was on her feet, a hand rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort. You wiped at your face, feeling guilty for the outburst of emotion. 

Plenty of people wished and hoped and prayed for this moment. They dreamed about it and tried for years to have this moment. And you’d been stupid enough to stumble your way into it. Ahead of schedule, unprepared, and unplanned. 

“I’ll order the bloodwork and you can do that on your way out--just to be sure. But take some time and when that result comes back we can talk about some options.”

You nodded--her words were a jumble of sounds that you couldn’t really comprehend. She offered a smile and left the two of you alone, Lexi still standing beside you.

“Let’s go do the bloodwork, okay? We can get ice cream when we’re finished!” 

You nodded, wiping your cheeks again before hopping down from the table. You knew she’d keep her word. 

**

The sunny California sky and a cone of soft-serve from McDonald’s made the afternoon somewhat better. You worked from home and went to bed exhausted, almost feeling detached from reality. 

You talked with Lexi that night about having Glenne over for dinner. It’d been a few weeks since you’d seen her, drinks after work one night to celebrate Lexi’s show getting signed for a second season. So when she knocked on the door of your apartment the next evening, Lexi opened it with a big smile. 

“Hi, hi,” she said, opening her arms in greeting. “Look at your beautiful face,” she pinched Glenne’s cheek between her thumb and forefinger. 

Glenne laughed and pushed her hand away, leaning around Lexi’s shoulder to see you in the kitchen. “She’s high already?”

“No,” you laughed, “she just loves you.”

Glenne made her way past her friend, offering you a hug before she set her purse on the counter. She’d always been so poised--perfect, clear skin, hair that was always flawlessly colored and cut. She took a seat on one of the stools and put her chin in her hands, “please tell me you have margarita mix.”

Lexi laughed, rounding the kitchen counter and heading for the fridge. “Oh, do we!”

“Tacos are on the way,” you said, reaching for glasses from above the sink. 

Mexican was always the go-to. You’d moved in with Lexi after college, and when Glenne ended up living only a short drive away, take-out became a regular reason for a get together. 

“How’s life?” Glenne stared up at you. “I’ve been so busy which is why I had to cancel on that movie last week. But--what have you been up to?”

Her question was pointed at you. While you and Glenne were definitely friends, you trusted that she communicated with Lexi a lot more regularly about life updates. 

You cleared your throat, ignored the awkward glance that Lexi shot in your direction when she reached for the tequila above the fridge. “Same old, you know. Just work, and stuff.”

Okay, so lying wasn’t a strong suit. You forced a smile and turned to Lexi, hoping she’d jump in with a hilarious story or funny remark. She was too busy lining up the cups, ready to distribute the liquor. 

You looked back to Glenne. “Uh, I wanted to talk to you actually.”

That got Lexi to turn around. Her eyes were wide, lips parted as if she was thinking oh, you’re doing it right now? 

“Remember in April, at that party--” You trailed off, referencing it as if it was ages ago. 

“The album wrap?”

“Yeah, when I, you know, got laid for the first time in a while?”

She laughed, looking up at you with an amused smile. “Yeah?”

Glenne had been the most excited about your rendezvous that evening. When she’d first introduced you the two of you, she made your promise you wouldn’t get all weird around him. Apparently people did that. You laughed it off and tried to ignore him at the other end of the dinner table--an Italian restaurant in Studio City for her birthday last fall. He showed up twenty minutes late.

Lexi was still now, tequila on the counter, she wore nothing but a pair of shorts and a tube top in the afternoon heat. Glenne was impatient, the smile fading from her face when you broke eye contact with her for a second. 

She tilted her head to the side. “What? You’re freaking me out.”

“I’m, uh, I’m actually pregnant.”

Quiet. Outside the windows, the setting sun illuminated a hazy Los Angeles dusk. Kids swam in a pool at the house next door, their laughter was muffled through the sliding door out to your patio. It felt strange to say it like that. Up until this morning, the word possibly had been sprinkled in, a safe and reassuring disclaimer. 

“You’re joking,” she said, readjusting in her seat, the color drained from her tan skin.

You swallowed. “I’m not.”

She looked over to Lexi, then brought her gaze back to you. “And you’re saying it’s his?”

You rolled your eyes a little. “He’s literally the only person I’ve had sex with in the last year.” Lexi came over to the counter to stand beside you. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the smooth granite. Glenne just stared at you, still in disbelief.

“I took two home tests on Tuesday and went to the doctor yesterday.” 

What you didn’t tell her is that you cried this morning when the email came through, new test results available from Dr. Weston’s office! Positive. Both the urine and the blood test. There was no denying it now--even if you wanted to. 

“Holy fuck,” she said. “Holy fucking shit. This is not good, you guys.”

“Don’t, Glenne,” Lexi stood back up and shook her head, making a face at her friend. “She’s already freaked the fuck out and she won’t stop fucking crying, okay? She doesn’t need you to add to that.”

You tried to swallow the emotion now, heat to your cheeks when Glenne rolled her eyes.

“I’m not trying to add to it--I’m just--I have no clue how they’ll take that.”

You knew who she was referring to. His team. The people around him who’d made sure, for all this time, that something like this never happened. 

She let out a sigh and looked up at you again. She stood from her seat and rounded the counter. “I’m sorry--I just--are you okay? How are you feeling?” She hugged you, it felt more obligatory than genuine. “You haven’t told him, have you? Does he know?! Jeff doesn’t know!”

“No--you two are the only people who know. I haven’t even told my mom.”

Glenne’s arms still encircled you, Lexi stepped over and hugged you both, a kitchen group hug. “This means more tequila for us, Glenney.”

“You’re fucked up,” she laughed in response, pulling away and looking at Lexi. 

It was quiet for a second, that was Lexi’s cue to make them both a margarita. Glenne went to sit back down, immediately going into business mode when she clasped her hands on top of the counter.

She took a deep breath, you were unsure if that was for your benefit or her own. “So--okay. Where are you at with it all?”

“Are you asking if I’m, like, excited? I am not excited. This is not how my life is supposed to go.”

“Oh enough with the plan, will you?” Lexi rolled her eyes and poured the liquor into two matching glasses, nonchalance lacing her voice. 

“Well forgive me for ideally wanting to find a partner before having a baby,” you shot back at her. 

“That’s not what I mean,” she turned around. “It’s just--I dunno, dude, you’re always so hard on yourself if something doesn’t go according to the plan. I get it--this is a big one, but, stressing over your plan isn’t gonna help.”

Glenne nodded, almost reluctant to side with Lexi. “I’ve heard about the plan. You are obsessed with the plan.”

“I’m not obsessed with it,” you retorted. “I just have a good sense of how I want my life to go.”

Had. You changed the verb tense in your mind. You had a good sense, until now. 

“Well, are you...gonna keep it?” Glenne’s question was innocent, her eyes searched your face as soon as the words left her mouth, she looked nervous, like she didn’t know if it was okay to ask.

A tired voice. “I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I haven’t even thought that far.”

She nodded. “You have to tell him. Have you even talked to him at all since then?”

“No,” you laughed. “It was only, like, a month ago.”

“He didn’t text or call?” she pulled her head back in surprise.

You shrugged. “No. I wasn’t expecting that. Why? Did he mention me?”

“It came up once or twice, yeah.”

“With who?”

“With me and Jeff--and Lexi.”

You turned to your roommate, narrowed eyes when she delivered the drinks. You knew she’d seem him once since then--a brunch one morning before Glenne left town for business. 

“I told you about it--he just said you were nice and that we should all hang out,” she mimicked his accent, earning a laugh from Glenne.

“That wasn’t the first time you met him, though, right?” Glenne pulled the glass to her lips, took a sip and then made a face. “Jesus, strong enough?”

“I figured you might need it since your boyfriend is about to be hella upset.”

“Thank you, thanks for that,” you made a face at her. “But no--” you turned back to Glenne to answer her question. “I met him at your birthday party last year--in Studio City.”

“Right,” she nodded. The doorbell rang and Lexi went to greet the delivery person, or, more so, the tacos. 

“But listen, you can’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t even know what I’m gonna do yet.”

She closed her eyes, made a face that told you it was going to be hard to keep her mouth shut. You leaned forward and lowered your voice, hoping to convey how serious this was. “Give me a few days to just--to talk to him first.”

She dropped your gaze, bit at her lip. You knew it was a big ask. Don’t tell your boyfriend something that is about to make his life a living hell. 

“Please, Glenne.”

She let out a long sigh, one that sounded like it was slowly deflating her lungs, tired and unsure. “Fine,” she said. “But you’ve got to get in touch with him then--like, soon.”

You nodded, Lexi reappeared from the front door with a box in her hands and a smile on her face. “Okay--two for each of us and plenty of guac to go around.”

“So,” Glenne pursed her lips. “Need his phone number?”

**

It felt like one of those dreams you couldn’t wake up from. Like a cloud that looms over the city when everyone is dying for a sunny day. 

You ignored the two phone calls from your mom you got in the span of three days--quick to text her some excuse about work or being busy with something at home. It felt too soon to tell her. You didn’t even know what he’d say or what he’d think or do or feel and the last thing you wanted to do was get a bunch of people involved in this before you even knew what to expect. 

There were a few options, in terms of what his response might be. Glenne had continued to prep you that night in your kitchen, the more margaritas in her the more she accepted that she was now complicit. In moments it felt normal, laughing and talking and then watching a stupid youtube video of some kid falling off of skateboard. 

But when you went to bed and then woke up, realizing that no amount of sleep would change the current predicament, you decided that maybe it was time to get in touch with him. 

You had no clue when or how or where. Over text? On the phone? Lexi agreed that was too impersonal. Out to dinner? Too public. In person? Terrifying, and possibly not an option. 

The truth was that you didn’t know him. He was someone who happened to be friends with your friend. Nothing more, nothing less. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you saw a billboard on the side of the 405 with his face on it. 

So you didn’t know if he’d even want to see you--he might consider you an acquaintance or even a stranger and maybe he had no desire to ever speak to you again.

You went about work and life as if everything was normal. You showered and brushed your teeth and took solace in knowing that whatever form of life was inside you was so tiny that it could just as well be a blip on the radar. 

A story in the future of hey, remember that time, when you were, and then it...

Plenty of people got pregnant and lost it, not even knowing until it was too late. You weren’t sure if you were wishing for that, in all honesty, but you knew that the alternative felt too overwhelming to think of right now. 

But when you found yourself sitting outside in the courtyard on your lunch break, a search typed into the app store for pregnancy tracker, you figured that maybe it was time to bite the bullet. If you were starting to think in terms of what size fruit a baby is at any given stage, maybe it was time to loop him in. 

You pulled up your text thread with Glenne--scrolled up past a meme and a recipe she’d sent you, until you found his name and number. You clicked it once, create new message. 

You stared at the blank bubble. A thousand words and a thousand choices of what to say and how to say it. With a rush of adrenaline, you exited out. Clicked the number again, call now. 

It rang. Three times. Then voicemail. A deep breath, you stood from the bench and started to pace. 

Beep. “Hey, uh, this is Y/N--uh, Y/N L/N. Lexi MacMillan’s roommate. I hope you’ve been well since I saw you, and, yeah--maybe we could get dinner or something soon. My number is--the one I’m calling on, so, I know you’re probably really busy right now, that’s fine. Just, uh, yeah, would love to talk with you. Okay, bye.”

You pulled the phone away from your face and wanted to throw it into the bushes. Would love to talk with you? That didn’t exactly do it justice. 

You let out a breath and clicked it to sleep, hoping that maybe it’d get lost in translation and you’d never have to talk to him or see him or think of him ever again. 

Something told you that wasn’t very likely. 

You went back inside and finished up the day of work, thankful for distraction from Aarav when he found you in the lounge. 

“Did you see the request that Carson sent?” He dropped his laptop on the coffee table and headed for the vending machine nearby. “Not to sound like a dick, but, he’s out of touch with reality. I’m concerned about him at this point.”

“Why?” You laughed, “cause he doesn’t understand that we can’t deliver a whole project with only two hours to do it?”

“Exactly,” he leaned down to reach for the bag of popcorn it spit out. “Hopefully he just fucking leaves and goes to fucking Tinder--he could even go to the Instagram department, for all I care.”

“Levi hates him anyway--pretty sure he regrets hiring him.”

He came to sit next to you and then opened the bag, putting his feet up on the glass table in front of you. “Yeah, well, Levi’s out of here as soon as he gets something with Apple.”

You smirked over at your favorite coworker, knowing exactly what was coming out of his mouth next. 

“And then you’ll get promoted. Much deserved, the queen of saving my ass.”

You brushed your hair off your shoulder playfully. “You’re welcome.”

He cleared his throat, opened up his laptop. “Levi’s great--but if you’re my boss, I’m working remotely two days a week instead of one.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said, giving him the side eye when you looked back to your screen.

You fell into comfortable silence--grateful for the change of scenery from your office that was far enough away from Aarav and Simone, the two people who made work feel like fun. So you got back to the project, sent your designs to Carson when you finished, and prayed that he wouldn’t have a fit over the fact that you didn’t take his advice on using the Aileron font instead of Arimo.

He emailed you, eventually, but you didn’t have time to read it. As soon as it opened on your screen, your phone rang--a Los Angeles area code appeared on the screen and you felt your stomach drop to the floor. You looked over at Aarav. “Sorry--I, uh, I have to get this.”

You stepped away, leaving him on the sofa with your laptop, hand still deep in his bag of popcorn. You swiped across the screen, brought the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, uh, Y/N? It’s Harry.”

__

table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list

author’s note: Y’ALL. I’m back. As if starting a new story literally DAYS after I finish one isn’t crazy, here I am. Come talk to me and let me know your thoughts or your theories because THIS ONE is gonna be a wild ride. 

tag list: @stepping-into-the-light @thurhomish @afterstylesmadeit @iconicharry @stylesfics-xx @harryspirate @mellamolayla @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfantasy @clorenafila

[poison--ivory]

Haikyuu!! Virus Au(Random/Reader) Part 2

        Warning: Blood, gore, subtle mention of character death

                 Virus au! Part 1

                                     Tendou felt like absolute shit. 

His feet dragged across the school’s now dirty floor. A bright orange and purplish hue crystalized the walls nearly blinding his field of vision. Warm wind blew in between the nailed up boards. The glass broke a while ago from an incident a few days back involving a second year jumping from the third floor hallway. 

Ever since the outbreak his attitude regressed back to his childhood demeanor. He puts on an act for the rest of the team’s first years. But, distancing himself emotionally from the rest of the team. Ushijima could read him like a book on some days, but Semi and Reon could tell exactly what was going on in his head with each fake smile. 

The school went on lockdown a while back. Whoever was in the school stayed in the school. Which in turn left a lot of students stuck within the walls of the private school. The volleyball team stayed overtime that day and so did some other students that didn’t want to go home early and stayed cooped up in their dorm rooms. 

At the time we didn’t know about the disease. The only indication of the world changing were the warning sirens that Japan uses for missiles firing. So, we all thought another bombing was going to happen in Japan.

Coach Washijo was called down to the teachers lounge and before he went gave Ushijima instructions and a key to the bunker of the school. It wasn’t until much later that they rounded up all the students into the gymnasium. As we were guided to the gym, Tendou took quick notice of the boarded up gate. What used to be the plain metal bar gate was now being boarded up with planks of plywood.

What was even stranger was the bleak silence. Not a single sound came to Tendou ears, usually the noise of birds singing and cars driving nearby would be heard. He just chalked it up to the sirens blaring that silenced the animals and most people would already be inside if the warning sirens went off.

As we were piled in the gym our principal stood on the stage, his intense gaze loomed down over all of us. Some of the teachers were already on break until April and most stayed behind for the time being in preparation for the next year. The ones that did stay were only a few, most of them being the honors class teachers and the exception of Coach Washijo.

If Tendou didn’t already feel anxious he did now. He remembered the air getting thicker and the slow realization of his paradise falling further from his fingertips.

The door to the class 3-2 opened and a brown haired girl slumped out the doorway, her hair a matted mess and her clothes at this point are just rags. Her crestfallen face was something to be depressed about. She slumped off down the hall, leisurely being drawn over by the darkness. The next person to come out was a breath of fresh air. Goshiki popped his head out into the hallway and gave Tendou a small smile, before ushering him in. The faint smell of medical supplies and the musky smell of the half washed invaded his nasal passage.

Dread filled his body as he noticed how many of his old schoolmates layed stiff and sickly on the makeshift beds. Desks were pushed together to make new beds once the nurse's beds in the clinic ran out. He could make out some familiar faces here and there, faces all a little pale and dark under the eyes. However, some of them on closer examination had sunken in cheeks, greyish skin and a strong pungent odor emanating from specific bodies he passed. 

Stopping in his tracks Tendou glanced down at the dark haired ginger. Dark brown eyes soulless starred as they gazed at the white ceiling. Chunks of hair fell off in clumps littering the floor with red splotches and slowly gathering pools of blood underneath the lumps of torn flesh. Flies quickly gathered on the discarded meat. A brave soul walked over and tossed the lumps into a garbage bag and quickly moved on to do the same to other large heaps that lay slumped on the floor.

Tendou groaned and pulled the mask that laid on his chest up to his face, the smell only dimmed it. It was still present but not as bad now. Goshiki led him deeper into the classroom, the smell seemed to grow fainter with each step. 

Tendou knew what he was going to see however he brushed it off as he took another glance around the room. His eyes watered, the smell really is getting to him.

Goshiki slid the curtain open to reveal a certain third year student. “We’re here, Tendou. Please, don’t make too much noise, we just got him to calm down. He’s been convulsing since last night and we finally managed to tranquilize him.” 

“Tranquilize?” He questioned.

Goshiki nodded, “We had to. He bit two of the people we had come to give him medicine and he just kept screaming and kicking people.”

“Wakatoshi didn’t tell me that.”

“Coach told us not to bother you with this. That you didn’t need to be affected any further, he’s been worried about you Tendou.”

“He doesn't need to be. I’m fine.”

Goshiki gave a brisk nod back and walked out of sight. Taking his seat he stared down at the young man.

The body of Semi, Eita laid on his back. His once lively eyes are now cast over by a grey screen, kind of like a dead fish. 

He would like to think that maybe it was his fault Semi got hurt, but no he can’t really blame himself. Semi and him both decide to split up to repair the school wall. While he worked on the wreck Semi jumped on the car and over the wall. Him and a few other students pulled on the hunk of metal as Tendou and a few others pushed the car out. Apparently there was a survivor underneath the car and Semi with another student tried pulling him out. He didn’t know what happened afterward, all he heard were the others rushing Semi back over the gate.

“Hey, there Semisemi.” He tried to make a smile pull at the corner of his lips, but failed. “I really hope you’re getting better.” 

No answer.

Tendou put a shaking hand down on top of the old pinch server’s chest. The steady heartbeat of Eita softly battered against his palm.

Thump

Thump

Thump

 “I don’t know what to say. . .sorry I was never great at vocalizing my emotions.” The sunken cheeks of his friend looked surreal and Semi’s shallow breathing made him feel anxious. Dried lips, chapped from hours without moisture. “You're really green in the face, Semisemi. Did you eat today? I’m pretty sure I have some umaibo in my dorm room. It's probably stale, but still sort of edible.” 

Thump

Thump

Thump

“Maybe when all of this is over we can all go to a karaoke room together, play a couple rounds of volleyball like old times sake.” Tendou started to spout about all the good times they had together. The weeks before felt like a lifetime. He’s seen students go mad over the isolation, grow depressed from the loss of loved ones and everything in between. 

Thump

Thump

Thump

His mind aimlessly wondered to his family. His mother is probably the only family member he cares about. His father left them at a very young age. Tendou’s mom never spoke ill of the man even when she heard he was getting remarried last year. She’s a kind soul, and Tendou could clearly tell he didn’t inherit his mother’s benevolence. The patience she had could rival that of a Siberian tiger.

Soft moaning came from the bed ridden teen. Tendou’s heart skipped a beat and a soft grin formed on his lips. Low gurgles sounded from the back of his throat and Tendou panicked. He quickly moved Semi over onto his side and swiftly scooted his body away from the bile escaping his mouth. Coating the floor in a thick black paste.

. . . 

. . .

. . .

Something is very wrong.

Why is his vomit black? And when did his heart stop beating? It was fine earlier and Semi was just breathing pretty average. So, why is he still breathing if his heart stopped?

Before Tendou could yell for help, his body was violently yanked. Semi’s once feeble hand was now forcibly dragging Satori. He was pulled towards the bed and in a blur of fight or flight he chose to flee. Tendou maneuvered his right arm behind himself to grab a hold of Semi’s hand. It was cold and felt like plastic. He tried to wrestle Semi’s strong grasp off his shoulder yet to no avail couldn’t free himself. He wiggled back and forth, even placing his feet on Semi’s chest and was able to give some distance between one another. However, it was short lived as the being that used to be Semi seemed to gain a small power boost and was able to dig his fingers into Tendou’s jacket. Tendou thrusted his right leg out and pressed it against the wall. A loud thwack resonated in the classroom as he fell against the hard tile floor.

Steamy expiration landed near his neck, the smell just alone made him gag. Tears built up in his eyes and before he knew it his old friend’s mouth fell open. He’s gonna kill me.

Tendou’s mind went into a flurry of rushed thoughts. He could just feel the piercing of his flesh being torn open. Out of instinct he swung his arm back and his elbow made contact with a solid object. Semi fell off him again, his body sliding across the ground, and tearing down the heavyweight curtain.

Students slowly walked towards the disturbance happening in the back. Three students seized Semi and pinned him on his stomach before lifting him up forcibly dragging him out the room. Some of the others asked Tendou if he was alright, but all Tendou could do was stare in fixation at Semi’s now pink eyes.

[jadekitty777]

On Your Six, Chapter 1

Okay first of all, did we all coincide the Taiqrow Week with Father’s Day... accidentally? Because that’s secretly genius. 

Secondly, whoops we’re also meshing with Qrowin week - hope y’all are okay to share!

Finally, let’s get down to business. Hi y’all, hope you haven’t missed me too much. Hopefully I can make up for my silence with this absolute beast of a fanfic. This is going to be a single, interconnected story matching the prompts of the entire week. I hope those of you who choose to read it, will enjoy it!

Day 1: Tattoos for @taiqrowweek

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overrall

Words: 2.3k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Marks

~

The day Taiyang walked into his shop, before even a single word was spoken, he knew.

It wasn’t from any particular mannerism. Everyone’s body language was different. A chattering mouth. Averted eyes. A tapping foot. A drooped posture. In the short time Qrow had been doing this, he’d learned no single action could encapsulate the variety in which people expressed their shame.

Yet, not a single one could escape the stench. It was a foul thing. Sharp and smokey, like a tire fire on a junkyard, it lacquered over an omega’s scent so completely that it was near impossible to catch a whiff of the true smell that was originally there.

Even now, as Qrow inspected the damage upon his former friend’s bare back, mere inches away from the man’s scent glands, he couldn’t pick out a hint of the sunflowers and fresh soil that was Tai. Nothing left except the reek of burnt rubber and dishonor.

He didn’t call attention to it, just like he didn’t call attention to the shake in his friend’s shoulders as he placed a hand over the first mark. “This is extensive.”

“I know. But, I didn’t know who else to turn to.” Even as he turned his head to look at him, Tai hunched over a bit, and the brand seared across his shoulder blades stretched with the movement. “You’ll help me, right?”

Qrow’s eyes flitted between watery eyes and stained skin where the word SLUT, all in caps like some mockery of a grand declaration, taunted his every decision since their falling out and left the taste of bile on his tongue.

“Of course.” He promised.

~

It was widely thought that it was a farmer that first came up with branding back during the Early Modern period. Having been “inspired” by the tagging of the cattle which kept them in order, the alpha decided to do the same to omegas, ascertained the same outcome would follow. The practice was later adopted by prisons and other corrective facilities. Back then, it was merely a way of keeping track of those who had been in and out of the system by searing the skin with an iron that had the center’s insignia on it.

Advancements to the printing press and mail systems did away with that particular need, but while the jails abolished the practice, reformatories did not, releasing studies that claimed the procedure resulted in more ‘proper’ and ‘desired’ behaviors in omegas and were absolutely critical to full rehabilitation.  Despite newer evidence showing these original claims were likely falsified simply for convenience and often actually had a devastating effect on an omega’s psyche, the three-century long old policy had yet to be abolished from the system.

The most the outcries had done the past few decades was change the method on which the ‘brand’ was applied. Instead of an iron, it was done with a tattoo needle and instead of an insignia, it became a single word that was like a permanent reminder of what landed the omega in the facility to begin with. The stench was caused by the use of the chemically enhanced ink that made it impossible for laser technology to fully remove.

In short, if an omega wanted the mark gone, their only choice was to cut out their own skin. Most, like his mother, accidentally killed themselves trying.

Which led to where Qrow was today, trying to shake things up in the only way he knew how. So, he jumped off society’s grid, took up a needle and his drawing skills, and turned the marks into works of art. More importantly, he gave the omegas who came to his door a way to recover and take back their lives.

He just never thought Tai would be one of them.

Once he’d taken the pictures he needed and Tai’s shirt was back on, things were relaxed enough he could brew some tea. As he handed the other man his cup, Qrow finally asked, “So, how’d you find me?”

“Wasn’t that hard.” He replied, fingers wrapping around the porcelain. “The omegas back at the reformatory would whisper before bed. It didn’t take me long to figure out they were talking about you.”

Qrow froze, trying to hide his trepidation. “Oh? They say my name?”

Tai snorted. “Not your name, but a name.” His expression turned cheeky. “Don’t worry though. Only someone who knows Harbinger used to be your Relics & Wyverns character could put the pieces together.”

“Ah, can it!” He barked as a flush worked its way up his neck. Still, tension drained from him. While there were no laws that specifically stated what an omega was required to do with their mark after their rehabilitation was complete, if he was caught tampering with it for them, he knew the courts could claim he was willfully interfering with a person’s emotional stability. Might even get him on a few counts of practicing mental health care without a license too.

Still, he didn’t particularly want to be sent to the slammer, which was why he worked so hard to keep to the underground. Never told anyone his name. Moved often. Kept minimal contact with clients. Whatever it took to make sure only the people who needed to find him could.

“I’m glad that you’re doing alright for yourself.” Tai said, giving a cursory glance to the shoddy working space that doubled as his apartment. Beyond his tattoo kit, he rarely took much with him when he relocated. Sometimes he got lucky on the accommodations and the place would already be partially furnished, other times he had to make do with what he could afford from the nearest thrift store.

This place was one of those latter times. He had a mattress on the torn up box spring with a chipped nightstand beside it, a circular, rickey table with two chairs for the dining room, a fairly barren kitchen area, and a slightly beat-up leather recliner for the clients.

It wasn’t hard to see Tai was really reaching as he said, “Your place is… nice?”

It was Qrow’s turn to snort. “At least be honest and tell me I live in a shithole.”

“I was not going to – okay, yeah it is kind of a shithole. But, you’re eating okay and everything, right?”

What an omega. “Yes mom, I’m getting my three squares a day and I’m even brushing my teeth before bed.” He lent back, the plastic chair creaking underneath as he did so. “But you didn’t exactly come here to critique my living conditions. Think there’s a lot more important stuff to talk about, don’t you?”

Suddenly, the tea was much more interesting than his face. “Yeah. Right. Um, guess there’s a lot to catch you up on, huh? You don’t even know about-”

“Whoa, hold up a sec.” He quickly interrupted. “Let’s get one thing straight: I don’t ask for any of my clients’ stories unless they feel like sharing. Some do, some don’t. But my help doesn’t come with any strings attached.” He met his gaze, stressing the next part carefully, “Even if they’re friends, okay?”

Tai still seemed to hesitate. “But, don’t you want to know about Yang?”

Of course, he did. He had about a thousand and one questions whirling through his head. But that didn’t matter right now. “You ready to talk about her?”

For the second time that day, tears shimmered in Tai’s eyes. He looked away quickly, saying nothing.

Yeah. He figured as much.

“Then no.” Qrow cleared his throat some. “Besides, I’m still a total disaster when it comes to handling people when they cry.”

That one, at least, earned him a weak chuckle.

“Some things never change?” Tai said with a sniff, rubbing the corner of his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“If it ain’t broke…” He shrugged. “Anyways, what I meant was, how do you want to change up that lil’ blemish a’yours?”

“I, uh, I don’t know. What do you normally do?”

“Turn it into a single design. But, I’ve never had to work on one so large before. That thing’s taking up about half of your back. Still doable, just… more difficult.” It was easy to busy his designs enough the word got lost under all the rest. Working on a scale of this size though, there weren’t many things he could think of that would both look nice and cover up the word. “Not to mention, we’ll have to take a lot of breaks, so your skin can heal.”

“How long do you think it would take?”

“Well, with three weeks between each session and the scale and details… probably nine to twelve months?”

Tai’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Something wrong?”

“Oh, no I mean…” He sighed. “I was just, kind of hoping it would be done before October, is all. Before the kids come home.”

Kids?!

As in plural?!

Qrow had to bite his tongue to physically stop himself from breaking his own rule. Took a deep, steadying breath.

Okay. That was six months away. There was no way. Unless…

“Well, we could make it four separate designs. One for each letter. That way I could work on one side and then the other while it’s healing. If we meet every week, should be doable. Gonna be some long hours under the needle for you though.”

Tai lit up just like the sun he was named after. “I can handle it. I’ll do anything. Oh-! We could even make it four dragons, couldn’t we?”

Qrow barked out a laugh. “I mean yeah, if that’s what you want. Give me your scroll deets. I’ll work up some designs over the next few days and send them to you.” As he pulled out his device to input the information, he added, “We gotta work out a schedule too. What days are RO?”

“She visits on Tuesdays and Saturdays right now. It’ll go down to once a week pretty soon. I’m also TA-ing at Sanctum Middle, so weekdays are pretty full.”

It was all par for the course. Even after doing time at the reformatory, omegas still had to have frequent visits from their rehabilitation officer, to make sure they were keeping a steady job and homelife. That meant good evaluations from his superiors and a living space that looked like not even a speck of dust had had a chance to touch down. This was especially important for omegas like Tai, who would have to fight for every top mark he got. If he failed to, the RO would claim he was still unfit to raise his own children and keep them in the fostering system.

Qrow knew that was the reason for the six-month time limit. He had no doubt that once Tai was out of parole and had his pups back, he’d be hightailing it out of the kingdom. But for the RO to still be visiting at that frequency… “Did you come looking for me right after you got out?”

“I-” The tea had become interesting again. And cold. “Yeah. I knew you were working out of Mistral, and Atlas allows for transfers to Argus.”

At this rate, his tongue was probably going to have indents from his incisors. Once he knew he wasn’t going to start prying or, worse yet, shouting at Tai - because really how stupid could he be?! – he opened his mouth and said, “So, Sundays then?”

For the first time in nearly six years, Tai smiled at him. “Sounds perfect.”

~

For the next few days, Qrow did nothing but draw. Whether it was with a buzzing needle or a pencil, his hand was rarely empty. Even as he downed his morning coffee or spun his suppertime noodles onto his fork, his other hand was moving over a sheet of paper, his muse on overdrive as he tried to pick out the perfect designs for each letter. By nightfall, he was sending at least half a dozen pages full of sketches to Tai, then checking his phone every five minutes as he impatiently anticipated his reply.

It didn’t actually matter where they started, because once they decided on which letter was going first, Qrow’s focus would narrow to the second one over. The tricky thing was, Tai had always been the type who was simple to please – well before a reformatory could ever drill that lesson into him. Even when they were young, whether it was a question of what game they wanted to play or what food they wanted to eat, Tai would almost always just grin and say ‘whatever you want’. Which meant, every sketch was perfect and Qrow had to work twice as hard to actually find something he truly fell in love with.

He knew he finally struck gold for S when Tai figured out how to use the circling tool on his scroll and sent the shot back with an exuberantly loud ‘THIS ONE’, followed by a horrendous amount of exclamation points.

Qrow had never felt prouder.

It was a small effort to resketch the piece in full and line it. Adding color was more challenging, as he had to balance what looked nice with the limitations of his inks. But leaving it without was absolutely not an option. Not for someone who used to decorate his walls with paintings of tropical beaches and autumn-locked forests and had had a Crayola box spectrum of begonias sitting on his windowsill in his childhood room. Tai was a man who radiated a rainbow both in his life and in his heart. To try to dull that by leaving him in nothing but blacks and grays was a crime Qrow wasn’t willing to commit.

Besides, the design wouldn’t translate well without it.

So, he kept working at it until he knew it was just right. When the omega’s excitement only seemed to grow, he knew his labor was over.

[fandom-necromancer]

You and me against the world

This was prompted by an amazing anon! The universe didn’t want this story written, but I summoned my inner Gavin and said phck the universe. I hope you enjoy! The lost version is better stylistically, but I still like it!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warning: Graphic depiction of violence, Hank is OOC for the sake of having an antagonist) [Part2]

It should have been easy: Sit in a room, drink some water, look important, answer some questions and get back to work. Had Gavin known how it ended, he would have never agreed to do this stupid live interview about human-android relations after the revolution.

‘Hello! This is Joss Douglas from Channel 16, reporting live from the DPD’s fifth precinct where the very first android joined the police force. We have the unique possibility to interview not one but two human-android work partners. Let’s greet Lieutenant Anderson and Connor, who had worked here even before deviation, as well as Nines and Detective Reed!’ Gavin tried to keep up a neutral but nor intimidating face and hoped Hank to lead the talk. Their dislike was mutual, but at least they had managed to stay professional so far. He nodded his greeting after Connor and Hank answered with a polite hello. ‘Okay, then let’s jump in right away!’ The reporter announced flashing a well-trained smile that should calm as well as impress. ‘I guess the question most people out there would love to ask is how it is to work as a deviant with the police. During the revolution it isn’t too wrong to assume you had been opposing forces.’ The reporter looked towards Nines with it, but the android redirected it: ‘I believe Connor can say more to that. I’ve been activated after the revolution as a deviant from the start. I can only say that my human co-workers have been generally accepting and nice. We do face problems sometimes when we have cases involving deviants that suffer from trauma caused by previous actions. Though we hope to become better and change that.’ The reporter nodded and turned towards Connor. ‘Then let’s ask you then! How did your life pre-deviation influence you? Were you treated differently afterwards?’

Gavin listened to Connor being polite and diplomatic only with half an ear, instead focussing on how they all avoided calling names. No one said something about being a machine or robot. Well, he guessed it was better that way, although he still didn’t believe in seeing them as all human. He knew Nines very intimately by now and he had noticed himself how forgetting they were steel and plastic had caused unnecessary harm. But he came to the wise conclusion it was probably best not to say that on public television. Next the reporter asked Hank and him how it was working during the revolution and both answered mostly by telling the truth: That they had investigated the cases like any other, but were very glad not to be involved in trying to suppress the revolution. It would have felt wrong. That likely was the only topic he and Hank would ever agree on.

‘Without doubt there are a lot of challenges deviants as well as humans out there face figuring out this still new situation. Have you faced any yourselves?’ Connor was eager to answer, clearly the more enthusiastic to help androids make use of their rights, being part of the revolution himself: ‘There have been some challenges in the beginning, but after a few months, things started to change really quickly.’ The reporter seemed just as eager to jump on it. This clearly had been what he had wanted to talk about all along. ‘Oh, would you mind elaborate on that a bit? I believe quite a few androids face some kind of problems these days. I think it is time to face them together!’ Gavin had relaxed quite a bit from the initial nervousness. It seemed Connor and Hank were comfortable leading this whole thing, while him and Nines stayed in the backseat and answer with additions and different perspectives. At least until Hank spoke up, joking: ‘I believe, Gavin here could tell you a lot about that.’

Oh no, please, did the old phck really have to deal that blow? The reporter seemed just as confused, having read the natural feeling of their personalities. Connor was quick for an attempt at damage control: ‘Hank, I don’t think-‘ But the reporter had caught himself and apparently taken it for a genuine cue. ‘Oh, that would be lovely, Detective Reed.’ Gavin sighed, remembering they were on TV. He thought how to put this best without looking like the man Hank wanted him to frame as. ‘Well… you see… Me and Connor didn’t get along at first. When he was still a ma- Before he deviated, I saw him as one of these “robot-overlords” that were sent to replace us.’ He did think to quickly add air quotes to that. ‘I did things that… weren’t exactly nice, but I have since-‘ ‘You tried to kill him. Multiple times’, Hank interrupted.

Gavin gaped at him. So that’s what they were playing? He knew Hank didn’t like him and that he wanted to drive a wedge between him and Nines, who he saw as almost a son. Damn overprotective bastard, it wasn’t as if he had changed since then and- ‘You did?’, the reporter asked too shocked to remember doing his job. Gavin’s brain worked overtime trying to find a way out of this one, but when he had opened his mouth, Hank had already began. ‘Before the revolution he viewed them as simple machines that weren’t alive. As if deviancy was nothing but a bug. Roughing up an android suspect wasn’t out of the question.’ Nines sat up straighter, before Gavin could do something dumb on life TV. ‘May I add that Detective Reed never did and never would do such a thing and that the statement was meant as a joke at that time?’ Apparently the reporter realised his interview had been derailed and wanted to regain power over it, but Hank had other ideas: ‘Yeah, but he threatened him with a gun – I think twice - hit him and called him names.’ ‘Is this true?’

Gavin had managed to stay calm until now. But this was enough. What did the idiot think he was doing? So he did what he could do best: explode. ‘Yes. Yes, it is true. I was an asshole, am still, but me and Connor came to terms. We talked about it. I regret it. I have even fallen in love with one of these plastic pricks! And I talked about my ways with Nines and we are still together. Maybe you don’t understand it Hank, but it is like it is! So phck you and your stupid schemes! This interview is over!’

With that he marched out of the room and called himself a taxi home.

~

Of course, the live broadcast had been a disaster that had become famous for all the wrong reasons. At least the protesters outside had subsided a week later and Fowler had had his back by letting him off the hook with a disciplinary and Hank on patrol duty for his shitty behaviour. Didn’t mean life was back to normal. His favourite bar had thrown him out, as the android bartender had politely explained they didn’t serve robophobic fuckers like him there. Not that anyone in Detroit thought of him highly. Cases had become difficult as witnesses refused to speak with him or even became violent upon seeing him. It was surprising Nines still had his back. The tall android had stepped in front of him every single time, catching fists directed his way and explaining in his most intimidating voice that personal opinions would not advance the investigation. By now Gavin was happy to get the gruesome cases. The cases that involved dead bodies en masse without any ties to the living world.

But hell, this was not what he had wanted. Not at all. He was a detective, goddamnit! And he had changed, he had put real effort in too! And now all of that had been torn down by Hank phcking Anderson. Phcking hell… He stared at the screen without any ambition, tracing the specks of blood, overlying Nines’ analysis and the forensics’ data. It was likely a suicide after an overdose that had destroyed the woman’s ability to think clearly, but Gavin would be damned if he wouldn’t be thorough. Only that by now he was craving a cigarette. He had to relax, get his mind off of this whole shit-show. Maybe he needed a vacation. Maybe he should ask for a transfer. But for now, a cigarette would do.

So, he decided to call it quits for today. He would take some of his overtime for this. He grabbed his jacket and waved his hand half-heartedly at Nines. ‘See ya tomorrow, tin-can.’ Then he headed outside, a stick already on his lips fumbling to get the lighter on in the strong autumn wind. It had gotten cold far too early in the year. He finally ignited the cigarette and put his hands in his pockets, walking down the street. He had sat in a chair far too long already and decided to get home by foot for once. At least until he decided otherwise.  He took a few shortcuts through back alleys, trying to escape the sharp winds of the main streets, puffing out clouds of smoke and breath. He wasn’t really thinking about anything, letting his feet carry him on. Maybe that was how he couldn’t see the fist coming for his face and then his stomach.

He doubled over and saw the cigarette falling to the ground weirdly clear. All air seemed to have left his lungs as he knelt on the cold floor holding his middle. ‘This is the man, right?’ ‘Yeah. What a piece of shit!’ ‘Oh, this will be fun.’ Gavin groaned. How could he ever have thought androids and humans were different? Everyone was just full of the same bullshit. ‘Get up!’ Someone grabbed him by the back of his jacket and hoisted him up to his feet. Gavin stood face to face with an android, two more behind him. A woman and one that apparently chosen not to present their skin. Not that Gavin cared, the three were here to beat him up, that was all he needed to know. Phck, Fowler would hate the hospital costs. This still counted as an accident on the journey from work, right? God, he hoped it was. He didn’t have a beautiful face to begin with, but he really didn’t want another go at how phcked up do you want to look versus how much are you willing to pay.

At least these ridiculous thoughts left him as the android that had picked him up pushed him against a wall and pinned him while the skinless one threw the next punch to his jawline. Gavin felt tears prickling at the corner of his eyes and blinked them free, just to get the next strike to his sternum again and when he gasped for air, someone kicked his legs from underneath him. Unable to react fast enough, Gavin flopped to the ground, remembering his lessons to roll in his head to his chest and keep it there. The least thing he wanted was to get hit in the head and fall unconscious while the androids had their fun. There were better ways to die.

He rolled to his side as a boot connected with his shoulder and burrowed his head in his arms for protection. Maybe if he could get a good kick at one of them, he could roll over and escape. Maybe he could make it to the main street where people could help him. Not that he expected them to, but he couldn’t fight three androids on his own. But unfortunately, his foot didn’t hit a leg but a hand, as the woman grabbed and lifted his leg, turned him around and kicked where it hurt most. Gavin couldn’t suppress a whine as the pain paralyzed him. He once again rolled up into a ball and tried to protect his vulnerable areas. Maybe he should have fallen unconscious, he thought as boots and punches made his whole body light up in pain. Somewhere along the way one of his teeth got knocked loose and he tasted blood in his mouth. As he opened his eyes the next time the world was a blurry mess. Maybe they would stop soon. Maybe someone had called the police. But no, the only thing he saw was a fourth silhouette joining the three. Well, that was just his luck, wasn’t it? Who cared how much you changed? All that mattered was how the world saw you and in his case the world had made up its mind a long time ago. He pressed his eyes closed and braced for more.

But nothing came. Until there were hands on him. ‘No’, he begged. ‘Please, don’t.’ But the hands continued mapping his body and Gavin noticed they were gentle. They didn’t hurt, didn’t press down on them but simply examined him. He dared to relax a little and uncurl, but the tiny movement made everything ache. Apparently, Gavin had groaned, because the stranger spoke up: ‘Shh, it’s fine, Gavin. I’m here. You are safe.’ ‘Tin-can?’, Gavin slurred and made the effort to look up. It really was Nines and he threw him a soft smile. ‘Yes. You left early and you forgot your keys. Wanted to bring them to you, but you already left by foot, so I followed. I’m sorry I wasn’t here faster.’ ‘You are here now’, Gavin sighed and God, was he tired. ‘Hey, stay with me now. You don’t get to seep just yet, wait until you’re home and showered.’ Nines turned him around gently and finally nodded. ‘Aright. You are beaten up pretty badly, but it’s nothing serious. Minor wounds, but a lot of them. I’ll get you home, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. You will feel better in no time.’

Gavin smiled and lifted his hand to lay on his cheek and Nines took it to hold there. ‘Why do you still stick around?’, the human asked. ‘After what happened I’m basically target practise. You’d have it easier without me.’ ‘I don’t want that’, Nines said, wrapping Gavin in his jacket. ‘Come on, if the whole world says I’m an asshole there has to be some truth to it.’ ‘I don’t care what the world has to say about you’, Nines said and snaked an arm under his back. ‘I love you’, he said with vehemence. ‘I know you. The real you. And that’s everything that matters to me.’

With that, Nines picked him up and pulled him to his chest, carrying the beaten human towards the street, where a cab was already waiting. ‘I’d say it’s you and me against the world’, he whispered as he sat him down on the backseat. But Gavin had already fallen asleep.

[>next part]

[angelkurenai]

Impossible - Dean Winchester x Reader (French Mistake AU)

Title: Impossible

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Imagine finding out that the two dogs you adopted were Dean and Sam from Supernatural, cursed by a witch and transported to your universe. You spend a long time with them, only for Dean to fall in love with you and to feel torn when he gets back to his human form between staying with you and leaving.

“Boys, I'm home!”

If someone had told you that this would be your life then... you would have totally believed them. Coming home from your part-time job to your own apartment, about to watch the newest episode of Supernatural and savor your favorite pie and burgers which you had just bought, and above all to your two most favorite boys in the world which also happened to be your dogs seemed like the life you actually wanted and got. Speaking of which-

“Sammy!” you grinned as the Australian Sheppard happily made his way from the kitchen towards you. You knelt and he rested his paws on your legs to push himself upwards and lick your cheek before continuing to lick your hands. You giggled, rubbing his head and back, happy to see him wagging his tail. Although he didn't get as excited as your other dog did – oh that one was the epitome of a happy dog, the past couple weeks he had not been feeling well and you were trying your best to make him happy, so it made you feel better to see him go back to his old self.

“How's my boy today? Feelin' any better?” you got a bark in return, and you wrapped your arms around the big dog in a warm hug “I hope that's a yes. Don't worry, big guy, I'm here for you. I've got your favorite treats and after the newest episode of Supernatural we're gonna watch your favorite movie too, ok?” another bark, certainly more cheerful and pulling away you grinned at him “That's my boy. It seems like you and Sam Winchester do really have more things in common than I thought.” you kissed the top of his head “Don't worry, everything will go alright, promise!” you grinned, getting back up on your feet.

You took off your shoes and jacket, looking all around the place with a frown “Hey Sam, where is Dean?”

Usually when you came back from work the second you'd open the door, the German Sheppard was the first thing you saw before your own house. He'd be jumping, practically pushing the door open, and while standing on his two feet he'd be licking the heaven out of you. On many occasions he had knocked you over because of his excitement. Well, at least you could say that Dean Winchester - at least a version of him? - was peppering you with kiss while eagerly awaiting your return every day from work. That was something.

However it didn't seem this would be the case this time. It struck you as off when you didn't hear his happy barking but you thought he had not heard you. However, you actually started to worry when you heard a loud sound come from your kitchen, of something breaking. Your eye widened and before you could realize it, you were making your way towards it in a heartbeat. Nobody could have certainly prepared you for what was to come, though, and just as surprisingly a giggle escaped your lips.

“And what do you think you're doing there mister?” you placed your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow and trying to look as stern as you possibly could; but it was impossible with how adorable he looked while trying to hide the mess he'd made and attempted to look innocent but was clearly guilty.

A small whine came from him as you looked around, taking the scene in front of you. Both the pies you'd bought not a day ago were gone, some leftover burgers and fries gone as well, some noodles and milk spilled on the floor. There were two plastic bottles of water on the floor as well next to the glass you'd just heard break, no wonder having knocked it over the counter. The door of the fridge was still slightly ajar, no wonder him having tried to close it and cover up for the mess he'd made but not fully succeeding. Which would explain how he had not rushed to greet you.

“Dean?” you asked accusingly, voice stern “Did you do all this?” you wouldn't need a verbal answer even if he could give it to you, there was still some filling on his nose from how messily he'd eaten it, but him avoiding eye-contact was more proof too “Dean, look at me.” you said sternly and after a long pause he looked up and gave you a small, cute bark “Oh don't try to play innocent on me. Did you do that?”

His eyes were immediately cast down as he tried to push with his paw one of th empty pie contains under a chair and out of your view but it didn't work as you took a step forward, crossing your arms over your chest “Dean, look at me. Did you cause the mess? Did you eat the pies?” well, he did have more in common with the human Dean after all.

“This is why you didn't come to greet me huh? You were trying to cover up for the mess you'd made.” you said with a raised eyebrow and he let a small whine escape him, he slowly laid down to show his belly as a sign of obedience but you still remained stern, or at least did your damn best to keep a straight face “Oh now you're trying to pull that off huh? You did this hm? Even though I told you to stay away from the pies.”

You tapped your foot, face stern and firm despite how hard it was. He had lowered his ears, his eyes big and pleading – a special bright and beautiful shade of green that looked identical to the man he was named after – soft barks and whining leaving his lips as he wagged his tail. When he saw you weren't caving in, he got up on his feet and made his way to you, nudging on your hip with his head and on your leg with his paw.

“Oh you're apologizing now hm?” you raised an eyebrow “You think those pretty eyes will do it again this time?” you remained as stoic as you possibly could, already having gotten the message across. To say that Sam and Dean were the smartest dogs you'd met in your entire life would be a great understatement, they were so much more than that. Sometimes it felt like you were talking to yourself and you shouldn't expect a reaction, much less answer, from any of them; and yet they always did something to prove you wrong by giving you a sign they understood everything. Or it was probably your own wishful thinking.

“You know what? I don't even wanna know.” you sighed at those puppy eyes “How you managed to open the fridge in the first place is remarkable as it is.” the second the smile formed on your lips his ears perked up. A yelp left your lips when he jumped up and, as per usual, knocked you over. With most of his weight on top of you he started licking you like there was no tomorrow, his tail wagging so fast you could barely see it. Uncontrollable laughter left your lips as he wiggled and tried to nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck, licking even your jaw and neck in the meanwhile.

“Alright, alright! Dean. Dean!” you squealed, laughing and rubbing his sides and belly “Dean, alright- enough kisses, please, I'm about to get an overdose!”

It took a full minute, and a small bark from Sam you were pretty sure you heard, for him to pull back. He made sure to give you a another lick over the lips, making you laugh as you tried to clean yourself, but certainly not complain.

“Ok ok I sure missed you too, buddy.” you giggled, kissing the top of his head, earning a grin from him - or what you could at least describe as that “Why don't you go and spend some time with Sammy while I clean up the mess you've made? I'll be back with food for you two soon.” you both knew you could never stay mad for too long at him and you were 100% sure he took advantage of it.

He gave you a happy bark and did as told.

~*~

“No, Dean, wait.” you said, ignoring the whining at the other side of the door or how he scratched on it; asking to be let in “Stay” you said patiently, hooking on your bra. But before you could take hold of your shorts, you heard more effort from the other side of the door before the handle shifted and, after a try or two, the door was pushed open, allowing the big German Sheppard to enter.

“Dean!” you nearly screamed, but you didn't know what you were more surprised at. The fact that he managed to open the door, he had done that before, or walked in on while you were getting dressed, got comfortable on your bed and grinned at you, he had again done that before “You perv.” you grabbed a pillow and threw at him, which he effectively caught in his mouth and played with it.

“Don't tear it to pieces.” you said with a chuckle, shaking your head but grabbing your shorts and a T-shirt and wearing them “Getting comfy, ain't ya?” you grinned, making your way to your side of the bed. It had long ago been established as this.

You had found Sam and Dean a little over a year ago, abandoned by the side of the road and in a terrible condition. You couldn't bring yourself to just walk by and, despite how hard you knew it would be (for a person that could barely make ends meet, was all the time busy with work and barely had enough space in the apartment for herself), you immediately gathered them and took them to the vet. Beaten, bruised and malnourished as they were on the road for a couple of days without any food or water, you just felt your heart break for them. They needed someone to give them their fullest of attention to heal and get them back on their feet and as hard as it was for you, it was hardest to let someone else take care of them, so you took up the opportunity.

And just like that, a little over a year later, you'd grown to love them so much you couldn't say goodbye to them. They had become your family, much like the fandom of the show the characters of which they were named after. And it was no coincidence because they were identical to Sam and Dean Winchester in any way possible.

“Wait- where's Sammy?” you looked around when you didn't spot the Australian Sheppard near you, only to peak through the door and find him in the living room sleeping next to his favorite book. You couldn't tell why you'd find him in this state so often lately, because there was no chance he could read a book (even if you'd once or twice caught him looking at pages), but you weren't going to complain if it calmed him down.

“Seems like it's just you and me tonight, buddy.” you yawned, making your way back to your bed, a sigh of content leaving your lips “But I'm telling you-” you got under the blankets, Dean wiggling his way in as well “No Supernatural tonight as much as I'd love it, I'm beat. We'll watch the new episode tomorrow as much as my heart breaks a little over that.” you layed your head on the pillow, your eyes closing for a second “Oh wouldn't I give everything to see Dean Winchester now.” you mumbled “Gosh, would I give everything to see him for real. Just for a hug, just for a sincere thank you for everything he's done for me without even knowing it. Just to let him know... how much worth it he is. I would be the luckiest girl on Earth if I got that chance.”

The show had a special place in your heart, Dean even more so than anyone else. And your dogs very well knew the fact.

You heard Dean bark but couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes as you hummed and snuggled to his side “Yeah, I love you too buddy. I know, you've got his spark, but Dean is Dean.” you whispered, wrapping and arm around him as he cuddled more with you with another lower bark “Mhm don't get jealous, big boy, or possessive, that's totally different. He's Dean Winchester... he's special.”

The last thing you remembered was his body rumbling softly with a bark that never came, before sleep finally enveloped you.

~*~

The first thing you realized when you were pulled slightly out of the darkness of your sleep was the warm body wrapped around you. And even more the lack of warm fur but presence of soft and smooth skin, human skin.

You heard a small although deep and rough groan from beside you. The surface that your head was laying on rumbled softly, earning a small hum from you, but you were too sleepy to realize it wasn't your pillow. You snuggled to the person's side even more, a pair of big and strong arms around your waist made you feel secure and cared for. You heard more sounds, shuffling of your bed sheets, followed by some murmuring and grumbling. It was all in a whispered voice so whoever the person was, they didn't want to wake you up. Your mind however was so fogged up and laced by sleep that it didn't even occur to you to think, in the first place, how someone had found their way into your bed.

And, in all honesty, whatever ability you had – during such a time – to think vanished into thin air when you slowly opened your eyes and saw who the person really was. You blinked slightly, your vision blurry as you struggled to keep your eyes open. It was hard, you could barely understand what was happening in the whole darkness of your room; but even the soft light of the moon outside was enough and you caught yourself smiling when your eyes met those breathtaking green orbs.

“Dean?” you whispered in a low and sleepy voice, the man freezing in his spot. His eyes were wide and it seemed as if he was holding his breath as if he was scared for some reason. “Dean... You're here.” you added in a whisper, your smile growing as you wrapped your arm around his middle as well.

“H-hey sweetheart.” he finally forced out, his voice deep, the nervousness crystal clear. His breathing was heavy and you could hear his heart was racing inside his chest, but you still cuddled more with him, the feeling of his soft skin against your cheek making you smile to yourself again.

“You're a little tense.” you murmured in a small voice “Why?” it was so innocent and simple, as you looked up at him with pouting lips, but it made his heart skip another bit.

“I-” he frowned, licking his lips as he kept opening and closing his mouth with an adorably perplexed look on his face.

“D?” you questioned.

He sucked in a breath, clearing his throat before he forced out a laugh that came out nervous “Well, I'm naked for starters.” he tried to give you a smile but it was awkward and it died out very soon.

“Hmh” you hummed, licking your lips before you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck “But you're a good naked... as far as I've seen at least.” the giggle that left your lips made his pull into a boyish grin.

“Well, now I'm naked naked. But-” he took in a small breath “Glad you think so.” he whispered, licking his lips that felt so dry, his smile fluttering as a look of awe took place. It never seased to amaze him just how beautiful you were when you were peacefully sleeping next to him, even if he had to be walking on four and you didn't even realize he was more than just a dog that bloody witch had turned him into.

He slowly brought a hand to your cheek, feeling such relief and peace by being able to touch your cheek like any normal human, tucking away a few stray strands when your eyes fluttered close. But it only lasted a moment because as he rubbed his thumb on your cheek, they opened again and you watched him with a sleepy smile and hazy eyes.

“It's so good to see you smile.” you whispered, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek.

Dean tried his best to ignore the crazy leap his heart did and as hard as it was, he forced himself to keep his voice even and his face straight yet gentle “Go back to sleep, princess, you're gonna need it.”

“No” an adorable, to him at least, whine left your lips “No, I don't- I dont' want to, Dean. I just... I want to keep seeing you smile. I just want to keep seeing you calm and relaxed, just lemme please.”

“(Y/n)” the lump in his throat was hard to swallow and with you wrapped around him, the effort to breathe became a struggle.

“Gosh, you should smile more often, it looks amazing on you. You deserve to smile, D. You deserve to be happy, to becalm. You deserve so much... you deserve the world.” you tried to emphasize on each word as much as you could.

“Trust me...” he let out a shaky breath “I'd be the happiest man on the world if I could just have you.”

You smiled, the kind of smile that had made him fall for you. He had long ago come to terms with the fact that he didn't just see you as a friend, or the girl who took care of them when they couldn't fend for themselves or even the chick he'd hit on if he was human from the first moment he met. Sure, he would be drawn to you from the first second – and he had been, because he was fully conscious all this time of everything around him – but after a year he realized that you were much more important to him than any of that. He had feelings for you.

“You deserve so much more. You should have it, you... You're worth so much, Dean.” your arm sneaked around his neck “Gosh, I wish so bad you could know it. I wish so bad I could let you know it... I could show you how good you truly are, Dean. How much good you've really done. How much you mean to me.”

“I know.” he breathed out, the words sounding foreign in his lips for such a subject, but having gotten to know how you saw and thought of him over the past year had made him feel all sorts of things he had not had the chance to before “Believe me, princess, I really know.”

His chest felt as if it was on fire but despite every cell in his body screaming differently at him, as he leaned in, he kissed your forehead. His eyes fluttered shut and a sigh of content left his lips, the lips which lingered on your forehead for longer than appropriate. And then came the hardest of it all “Go to sleep, (Y/n). When you wake up... everything will be better.”

And it would be better because he'd be gone, leaving you to live a normal life away from the horror, pain and death that haunted him. Leaving you... behind. And that felt like a stab to the chest.

“No” came a soft protest and he looked down at you with a deep frown “No I- I don't want to go to sleep. I don't wanna close my eyes cause if I- if I do then you'll be gone and I'll be back to reality. And I don't want it.”

“Wh-what are you-”

“I just want...” you trailed off, your lips parted as you watched him for a full minute. His eyes moved back and forth, eyebrows softly furrowed together before he heard you take in a small breath and lean in to press your lips to his. His eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up in shock.

He took in a shaky breath as your lips moved against his, soft, sweet and timid yet still with a boldness and surge of courage that all in all knocked all air out of his lungs. His eyes fluttered shut and despite every ounce of logic in him, every fiber in his body told him to kiss back and he did. His lips moved slowly against yours, savoring the moment he knew and feared wouldn't last long. He felt your arms wrap around his shoulders, one hand coming up to rest on the back of his neck as you deepened the kiss. He instinctively tightened his hold on your waist, bringing you as close as possible to himself as he could. He needed it worse than he needed the air to breathe.

His fingers danced with the hem of your shirt, the second his thumb brushed over the skin of your hip his heart did a jump. His gasp was synchronised with you licking his lower lip. He didn't even realize it when you moved so that you were laying beneath him, his body too seemingly having a mind of its own. He felt you wrap your legs around his waist and the shivers of excitement rush down his spine.

But logic and even more the need to protect you and care for you was bigger so as much as it hurt he pulled away from you with a small groan. He heard you let out a sound of protest and despite how hard it was to watch the rise and fall of your chest along with your kiss-swollen lips, he said “(Y/n)... close your eyes, sweetheart. Go to sleep. Please.” it was a plea for you to stop this because he didn't have the strength to.

“But I don't want to.” you whispered, bring your hand to cup his cheek “If I close my eyes you'll... you'll leave.” his breath got caught in his throat, fearing you knew what he had to inevitably do “I'll close my eyes and when I wake up you'll be gone but I- I don't want you to leave, Dean. Please don't leave me, I need you.”

“It's-” his mouth felt dry and he already felt terrible, so instead he said “I'll never leave you, princess.” he whispered, leaning in to press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. He felt your lips pull into a small smile.

You kissed back before he pulled away, only a couple inches mind you though “I know you won't... I just don't want to wake up. I rarely have dreams, much less of you. I want to make this last as long as possible.”

“Dreams?” he frowned until it dawned on him. You didn't think this was real, you thought you were still sleeping and that this was all just a dream, of course. That would at least make more sense than your favorite fictional character from your favorite TV show being real and on top of that being turned into a dog, thrown into your universe, which you took in to take care of and adopted.

“Don't worry, baby girl.” he breathed out, smiling although sadly “I'll be here, just close your eyes. You're tired.” he said softly,moving to lay on his side again and tucking you next to him, kissing the top of your head which you rested on his shoulder.

“I don't want to...” you mumbled sleepily.

“Ssshh just sleep.” he said softly, watching you without another sound as you fought but your eyes fluttered shut anyway.

“I don't...” you only trailed off, losing the fight against sleep only a couple seconds later. He heard your breathing slow down and become even. He smiled, although it was bittersweet, not moving an inch so as not to wake you up.

Sleep wasn't bound to overtake him, like you, though. Deep down he wished it would, maybe then he'd have an excuse to let you know of his existence and above all stay for as long as that was supposed to be. But his heart sank when he heard the footstep at the other side of the door, and there was only person that could be there.

“Dean?” Sam's voice whispered, pushing the door slightly open.

Dean tried his best to swallow over the lump in his throat and tear his eyes away from you to look at his brother, thankfully fully clothed, standing in the doorway and squinting at him “Dean are you awake? Are you- are you back to yourself again?”

A heavy sigh left his lips “Yes and be quiet, you're gonna wake her up. I'll be there in a minute. Just... give me a minute, that's all I need.” it was a lie, he needed a lifetime with you and it would still not be enough, but at the moment that was all he could get.

Sam frowned for a second but clearing his throat, he nodded his head in understand “I'll- I'll leave a couple clothes here, alright? Just... hurry.”

Dean could even hear it in his brother's voice, a bitterness and sympathy; understanding even for his struggle and pain. The door closed softly behind Sam and the older Winchester just focused on the soft rise of your chest instead of the seconds ticking by, until the time to finally came.

As much as it hurt him he took a deep breath and did what he had to do. Knowing that the longer he stayed the harder it was going to be on him, he decided he should just man up and pry himself off you. It was hard, not just because of his feelings, but because you insisted to snuggle even closer to him and your grip around him was firm. It was nearly impossible pulling away, freezing more times than he realized whenever you'd shift or let out a small whine, but in the end he managed to get off the bed.

Pulling the clothes Sam had left for him on the chair he paused for a moment. He looked at you, even though he knew he shouldn't, holding his breath. He struggled with everything in him, against ever instinct and want, to not lean in and kiss you at the moment or even touch your cheek one last time because he knew he risked waking you up and that was something he couldn't afford.

Shaking his head he took a deep breath and with fast steps exited the room before he could regret it.

“You ok?” Sam asked softly, their eyes meeting but Dean clenched his jaw.

“Just freaking peachy.” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

“Dean” the younger man sighed nonetheless, seeing more than his brother let out “You know we don't have another option.”

“Yeah, yeah I know. She doesn't deserve to be dragged in all this, I've heard it before... And I agree.” he said sharply, clenching his fists as Sam nodded his head sadly. Dean's frown only got deeper when he took notice of what he was really wearing.

“Did you seriously give me her ex's clothes?” or maybe he needed a change of subject.

“They are all her ex's clothes, Dean. Be thankful he had forgotten some and she kept them in the closet otherwise we'd have nothing to wear.” Sam shrugged, ignoring the glare Dean gave him “Besides, Dean, just because you didn't like that dude to the point you bit him-” he snickered, and at that Dean looked more proud than offended “Doesn't mean we have another choice.”

“Yeah, well-” Dean gave him a smug grin, defence mechanism “Guilty. But didn't you see the way he broke her heart? He did deserved it. He was a jerk and I was right!”

“Not you were jealous. That's different.” he pointed with a small smirk “It wouldn't matter if the guy was perfect, either. You'd still hate his guts.”

“Still, I ended up being right when he did hurt her the way I predicted.” he shrugged again “Good thing she had Dean to cheer her up though.”

“Yeah, on the screen of her TV.” Sam pointed out, making reality crash down on him again, and clearing his throat he added “You know... we need to get going, before she wakes. Find a way to contact Cas.”

“Yeah I understand.” the smile fell as he chewed on his lower lip, taking another step away from the door of your bedroom “It was good while it lasted, though huh?” he asked with a half smile that fell all-too-soon.

“Ye-yeah I... I guess.” Sam frowned but pursed his lips, understanding very well how bitter and sad it was. Sure, there was a hint of relief that they'd finally be back, they had at least many more chances as humans too, because being away and helpless from their lives had taken a toll on both of them; Sam above all.

“I mean I-” Dean licked his lips, sure not all of it had been good because they had to be away from the people they cared for and called family, they had almost lost their minds thinking that it could never be undone but in the end what he felt here, the small heaven he found in your apartment with you was something he had only dreamed of in his wildest dreams at that “I miss them all too, but I just- what we got here we could never have. And I ain't one for the perfect life but this-” his eyes roamed the place, lip drawn between his teeth “It was good here, real good. And she was-” a small breathe left his lips that stayed parted.

Sam was frowning until realization hit him with something he doubted even his own brother could see, and his eyebrows raised, back straightening “Dean”

The older Winchester blinked, gathering his thoughts before willing himself to be strong “I'm ok. It doesn't matter now.” he dragged a hand down his face “We uh-” he already started making towards the door of the apartment “We should get going huh?”

“Dean” Sam said softly, eyes filled with sadness. But Dean wouldn't dare meet them.

“She could wake up any moment now.”

“Dean”

“Come on, Sam. We need to find a way back too. People can't see us moping around like-”

“Dean” it was more firm, forcing Dean to look at him with a clenched jaw “Are you-” he huffed slightly “Are you sure about this?”

“I-” he hesitated, chest puffing out before he shook his head “Yes, can we leave now?”

“I don't- I don't mean if it's the right thing. I know it is. I- I mean-” he looked him straight in the eyes “I mean, are you sure this is what you want?”

His words ran deeper than he expected, his eyes finding the door of your bedroom again. He held his breath for a second before his shoulders just slumped and his eyes lowered. Sam didn't need a verbal answer after that.

[degrassi-fanatic]

Happy Father’s Day

Yet-to-be-inflated balloons are strewn across the dining room table, only two or three streamers are hung up so far, and a banner that reads Happy Father’s Day is still inside the plastic packaging he bought it in. All the decorations have been readily ignored and abandoned in favor of a lovingly worn and torn photo album with a cracked spine; the result of being open and closed for many years. 

Sitting at the head of the table, Bobby touches the cover of the album, gently tracing the words: The Nash Family. 

Although it might seem a tad bit morbid and sad to be alone on Father’s Day looking at photographs of his late family, it’s become some sort of a tradition of his ever since they’ve died. 

It used to be far worse, though. He would call in sick for work if he was scheduled that day and drink his body weight in alcohol as he flipped through the pages of the photo album with white knuckles, refusing to let himself forget what he lost. 

Now, it's different. He turns the pages in the photo album with only a deep ache to replace what used to be a sharp sting in his chest. Memories used to only equate to suffering for him but now Bobby looks at all the pictures with a renewed sense of love.

Overtime, Bobby has learned that memory can be a beautiful thing sometimes.

Bobby was alone in the house today as earlier in the day, Michael had taken May and Denny back to his own apartment for their own private Father’s Day celebration before the joint party that was supposed to take place here in the evening. Michael had asked if he wanted to join but Bobby had only politely declined, only half-lying about having to decorate. 

In all honesty, even after all of these years, Father’s Day was still a sensitive subject for him. 

Suddenly, at the sound of a doorbell chiming throughout the house, all of his melancholy thoughts are put on pause.

Setting aside the photo album on the dining table, Bobby pushes himself out of the chair and walks over to the door. He pulls open the door to find Buck standing on the other side with his hands stuff awkwardly in his front pockets. 

“Hey Buck.” he greets pleasantly surprised, “What are you doing here?”

“Bobby.” he says as he darts his eyes to the ground, “I was—um, I was wondering if I could spend the day with you.”

“You do realize what day it is, right?” Bobby asks as he wouldn’t put it past Buck to forget.

He watches as Buck avoids meeting his eyes, only scruffing the toe of his shoe against the ground. 

“My—my dad’s in town and I really don’t want to be around him.” he begins to explain and suddenly Buck’s surprise appearance makes much more sense, “Everyone else is busy; my sister’s with Chimney and Joy, Eddie’s with Christopher, Karen and Hen are using today as a second Mother’s Day, and Michael has Denny and May at his until Athena comes back from her shift.

“So I was hoping I could spend the day with you?” Buck asks, scratching the back of his neck. 

“With me?”

The small smile that was tugging on the corner of Buck’s lips disappears with his words, in its wake is a resigned look. Nodding his head, Buck lowers his gaze to Bobby’s shoulder. 

“Y’know what, it’s fine.” Buck says, “I’ll just go to the mall or something. Sorry to bother you.”

He feels something sink deep inside of him as he watches Buck turn away, heading down towards where his Jeep is parked near the sidewalk. 

Desperate to right whatever wrong thing he must’ve said or did just now, Bobby blurts out, “I could use an extra hand with setting up for the party today.”

In the middle of the concrete pathway, Buck stills. As he turns around to face him, Bobby pushes open the door fully and motions with his head for Buck to make his way inside. Practically skipping, he does so immediately. 

Once he’s inside, he gestures for him to make his way down to the kitchen as Bobby closes and locks up the front door. 

“Thanks for letting me do this.” Buck says as he picks up a string of reflective blue streamers. 

“Helping me decorate?” he teases as he begins to tear open the plastic packaging of the banner. 

“You know what I mean.” Buck responds with an eye roll.

As he does, he catches sight of the tattered photo album near the edge of the table. Suppressing the urge to hide it away where no one could find it, Bobby lets Buck pick it up and search through it. He decides to concentrate on rolling out the Party City banner in his hands. 

“What’s this?” Buck asks.

“It’s just a photo album from my first marriage.”

Right away, Buck closes it before setting it back right where he got it from. 

“Sorry,” he says with guilt laced in his voice, “You probably don’t want to talk about that.”

“It’s okay. I’ll always miss them but, it doesn’t hurt to remember them.” he explains.

At Buck’s hesitant, almost wary look, Bobby decides that maybe it’s time this old photo album finally gets some new attention. Picking it up, Bobby searches through the pages until he finally settles on one. 

“Here, this is my son Junior and this is my daughter Brook.”

The picture was the two of them awkwardly linking their arms around each other's shoulders. It was taken at Junior’s middle school graduation ceremony. With a smile, Bobby remembers how much Brook whined when her parents forced her to take a picture with her brother, complaining that Junior didn’t shower enough and smelled like he just came back from hockey practice. 

From his peripheral, he sees Buck shift around until he’s looking at the photograph from over Bobby’s shoulder. 

“What were they like?” Buck asks. 

“Brook loved reading. Her whole bedroom was lined up with bookshelves. Y’know she won this personal essay contest once...” Bobby says, still bragging about his daughter even after how many years have passed since she’s been gone

Old habits are hard to break, huh?

 “Yeah, she won five hundred dollars for it.” he explains, “She was always doing stuff like that.”

“And Junior?”

A chuckle bubbles out of Bobby. 

“Oh God, Junior, he was always getting himself into trouble. But, he was a good kid, he had a good heart.” he remembers.

Kind of like someone else I know.

Pulling his gaze away from where he was looking at Junior’s face, Bobby shifts his attention to Buck. For a second, he takes in just how light his irises are and how blond his hair looks in the light. 

He likes to imagine that this is what Junior would have grown up to look like. 

 “Junior would’ve been a lot like you.” he mumbles, more to himself than Buck.

It takes a few seconds of gears grinding and cogs turning around in his brain before Buck fully processes the depth of his words but when he does, he tilts his head to face Bobby and gives him a shy smile before taking a step backwards. 

“High praise.”

“Yeah well not that high.” Bobby jokes as he closes the photo album, “The kid got himself stuck in a tree that was only four feet above the ground once. And I was the one who was dispatched to get him out of there.”

At the story, Buck starts to double over laughing, clutching at his abdomen as he forces himself to take a breath between every wheeze and snort. Soon, Bobby is following suit; Buck’s laughter is infectious even on a bittersweet day like today. 

For a brief moment as he studies the way Buck throws his head back chuckling, he cannot remember if Buck always sounded like Junior while he was laughing, or if Bobby’s still-grief-ridden mind is having some sort of auditory hallucination. 

“Seriously?” Buck asks as the laughter begins to wane. 

“I never let him live it down.” he answers as he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. 

Placing the photo album back on the table, Bobby decides that they’ve spent enough time on the subject and judging by the clock, they should really get back to decorating if they don’t want Athena to come back home to a complete mess. 

“He must’ve been a lucky kid.” Buck says, as Bobby searches through the mess to find a roll of tape or some thumbtacks. 

“Hmm?”

“To have you as a dad.” he explains as he hands Bobby a cello tape dispenser, “Junior, I mean.”

If Junior was lucky, he would’ve been alive right now. 

“When I wasn’t drunk and or high out of my mind, I did alright.” Bobby responds with a hint of self deprecation. 

“Yeah, well, I think you’re doing a great job right now.”

Before Bobby can open his mouth and ask Buck what exactly he’s referring to, he’s cut off by the blaring sound of Buck’s cellphone ringing in his pocket. He pulls it out with a huff and practically glares at the screen lighting up in front of his face.

He waits for Buck to pick up the call but all he does is mute his cellphone and shove it back into his back pocket. 

At the way he clenches his jaw, Bobby can deduce who it is with little difficulty. 

“Your dad again?” he asks.

His only response is a short nod as he begins to busy himself with preparing some pieces of tape for holding up the banner; harshly ripping them off from the dispenser before attaching them to the edge of the table. 

Suppressing a sigh, Bobby knows he needs to push Buck into doing the right thing, even if it isn’t what either of them want to do. 

As much as Bobby wants Buck around today, not only to ward off all the bad memories associated with today’s holiday but also simply because he enjoys the man’s company, he knows he shouldn’t monopolize his time. 

Buck deserves a father. Though Bobby may downright despise Phillip Buckley, the man had the honour of holding the aforementioned title and that was something he could not compete with. 

Buck already has a father. He may not be a good one, but he was trying.

Even if he is 29 years too late.

“Maybe you should go meet him?” Bobby suggests, “I mean, if I got a second chance to become a father, you deserve a second chance to have one.”

Buck stops ripping off pieces of tape. His hands travel down to the edge of the table and he grips so hard at the wood that Bobby’s afraid there’ll be claw indents once he’s finished. 

Within a second, however, he pushes himself off of the table and he goes to reach into his pocket. 

Bobby barely has enough to take a look at what Buck’s pulled out before it’s already shoved into his hands. Tilting his head down, he sees a semi-wrinkled piece of printer paper that has been folded in half to make a card. On the front, in big and bold handwriting that he recognizes to be Buck’s, he sees the words Happy Father’s Day and a couple of messy drawings of two firefighters scattered across the page. 

“I already do.” he answers, “Do you—um, do you like it?”

“I love it.” Bobby whispers.

He opens up the card to find a long and what he presumes to be a heartfelt message on the inside. At the top, it says, To the best father and at the bottom, Love, Buck.

“Also, um, some of those random hearts and flames are courtesy of Christopher, who helped me make this, by the way.”

[weeniewrites]

Lost Connections

Zombie Kenma x g/n reader part 1

3k Words

tw: zombies, mentions of death, reader kills a few zombies, descriptions of rot and gore, mentions of past limb loss (Kenma’s in bad shape), the plots pretty peaceful all things considered i just go in depth when describing gross things

-a lot more’s changed since high school than you could’ve imagined

_________________________________________________________

It’s been said that traveling in groups is the safest idea. There are more hands for tasks, people to lean back on in the case of an injury or for comfort. But considering the state of things, the messy wasteland you assume the rest of the world has become, the stress that’s put on you and everyone around you, you know too well the strain that would put on any relationship. So you travel alone, to avoid the pain of loss and strain. Arguing that even if you can’t carry as many resources with you, you need much less food as a party of one.

You’ve made a home base of sorts. A basement near but not next to a general store, making it easy to move the supplies from there to your place without drawing attention to your home of operations. When you moved in the basement was empty save for a couple shelves and the walls unfinished to the point where the insulation’s still exposed. You’ve contemplated ripping a panel down to put under your blanket as a makeshift bed but it’s too itchy. What's insulation even made of? Maybe you shouldn’t touch it. So no bed. This isn’t your home anyway. It’s not your home. It would be more convenient to stay in the general store, yes. Not have to move your food, an overall nicer looking place. But too many windows, too many risks coming from staying in a building that so clearly carried food at one point. You haven’t encountered them yourself but you’ve heard of raiders from your time traveling with others.

Thankfully this town is small, away from others. The wildlife in the woods can be dangerous but it's far enough away from civilization that zombies are few and far between, easily taken care of or ignored until they stumble away. You’ve hit the jackpot essentially. Food. A stream of hopefully? Clean water that you boil still just in case. And no one around to bother you. Just you, an assortment of plastic containers, and your slowly decaying mental state.

‘Til the day you hear a rumble. Curiosity outweighs your concerns to make you peek out the basement window that’s usually covered. There’s a truck! What kind of idiots running and screeching around in a truck that makes so much noise! But you can’t help the excitement at seeing something you used to see so often. And then it's gone out of your vision with a shout, a hoot and a thump.

A thump? Did they hit something? Gaining your better sense back you cover up the window again and retreat to your cave of poorly circulated but still drafty air. There’s more than enough supplies in here. No reason to venture out. You shouldn’t go. With that high and mighty attitude you heard, those must’ve been raiders, or at the very least not the kind of people you’d want to stay around. Too risky. Too risky to even talk to...

When did you get to the door?

“Snap out of it me, you’re only alive because you’ve been cautious. You’re safer alone.” You croak out. When’s the last time you spoke? With there being little reason to? Just another noise to keep track of and minimize. You take one more look around at your supplies and curse. You need to get water today. It’s possible to wait a day, but between not wanting to wait on something so integral and the curiosity of what you’ll find outside. You remove the barricade, twist the rusty hatch lock, and go out, bat at the ready.

It’s fairly quiet, a few zombies dredged up from the earlier noise needing to be dispatched but it's easy to crush their heads with a well-placed swing, decay making them fragile. Seems like the rowdy bunch left town as soon as they came, perhaps outrunning a hoard? God, you’re an idiot for coming out here but at least it worked out with little affair. Though your one pair of pants is dirty now. It’d be nice to have a different pair, your backup being worn to threads. It’s possible to raid zombies for supplies but you DEFINITELY don’t want to strip them. Considering the amount of undead you’ve seen today (several compared to the usual none) it’s not worth it to make this foolish trip longer by washing up. Maybe the stench will hide you, can these things even smell? A trip to the stream to fill up your jug, a trek back through the road you know best and one last zombie stumbling around to take care of and your work's done for the day! It’s almost a nice routine at this point even if it feels like murder. Gross stinky murder.

It hasn’t seen you yet. One side of its body is visibly damaged, perhaps dragged? Ah well. Not your problem. Despite the sorry state of its body, it has an unusual amount of hair left. Man those roots are overgrown. The thing’s stumbling so you have no worries about being able to outrun it. Overall it’s no match for you with only one arm left, shambling with most of its weight on one leg, the other on its bad side visibly torn. Curious. A couple more steps and you’ll be done for the day and-

    It sees you. One wide unblinking yellow eye meeting yours. You hop back, circling around to keep your distance and get a better idea of how to respond. Intense scrutiny makes you catch more details, the lack of blood on the seemingly recent injuries, the face you refuse to look at (it's always the most unsettling) and the... Is that a Nekoma jacket? Shit. Shit shit shit shit you went there! That was your high school you can’t- you back up further and the thing shambles with you. Its too dangerous to get sentimental now just, don't look, don’t look and bash the poor things head in. It’s too late. Whoever it is is long dead just-

    The blond zombie trips and falls to the ground, wiggling around to look back up at you and you can’t avoid its face any longer, his face. Kenma’s face.

    God, you wanna cry, tears already threatening to cloud your vision. It was always a possibility to see someone you knew personally but what’s he even doing out here? You’re so far away from home, or at least it feels like it just. Shit! He’s wiggling you need to get this over with. Can’t avoid hesitating and compromising your safety further. A step back, readjusting your grip on your bat and... he's not. Moving? Did he run out of energy? Can zombies even do that? Why’s he-it. Why is it staring? His big yellow eyes looking almost curiously up at you.

“Kenma?”

His head tilts.

“What the fuck.”

The rustle of leaves and the trash picked up by the wind are the only sounds. It’s just you and this old dead classmate. At least that gives a chance to react to whatever this is. There’s not exactly a protocol! You didn’t plan for this! Shit just, um-

One eye attempts to blink, faltering halfway down- God that's gross

“Kenma?”

His head tilts again

“Okay shit that's, god that's definitely you- Can you understand me?”

No response

Maybe that was a fluke the first time, you would try and project human behavior on a shambling corpse in your lonely state. Fucking idiot... He’s still not moving.

“Kenma, why aren’t you attacking me?”

 His head twitches and you flinch, steadying your grip on your bat.

“Do you want to eat me?”

No response. Okay thats... weird. Wait let's try-

“Kenma, do you want to attack me?”

You can almost physically feel his focus shift, your breathing picking up as his eyes seem to focus on you rather than through.

He shakes his head.

“What the Fuck.”

You keep him tied up across the room at first. It’s idiotic. It’s not like you had a space set up specifically to keep an undead. Why would you? But he’s been surprisingly docile. Complying with any question or demand as long as you clearly address it to him. Knotting the rope around him was nerve-wracking. His jaw dropping open and hanging slack on request to place a gag inside “To stop you from biting me.” His spit leaves mismatched spots on the fabric. Being mindful to stay on his weaker side, you bind his neck and torso as his eyes keep a careful, blank eyed watch. Should his arm be tied up too? There’d been rumours that only bites turned people but risking a scratch just because you didn’t know for sure felt unwise. Finishing the knot on the first short piece of rope you take a step back to access his state. And another as he tenses. And another as he wrenches his head around, tearing through the fabric though pieces catch in his teeth.

“Kenma, stay still.”

He wiggles in complaint, face as taut as the rotting skin will allow.

“Kenma, do you want to hurt me?”

He shakes his head

“Kenma I need to do this... We need to do this. To be sure, to be safe.”

No response.

“Kenma I don’t want to hurt you either, but I need to be sure you can’t hurt me okay? Just in case”

....

“Please?”

His glare is focused on the floor beside him. Any attempts to get closer are met with a huff. Maybe... It’d be best to try again later.

Staying with Kenma is... scary at first and probably will be for a while but there are parts of it you don’t mind. That are nice even. The touch of familiarity, of home. It’s nice to talk to someone even if the most he can do is nod. Something feels wrong about tying up an old friend. He’d say he didn’t want to hurt you anytime you asked but, you can’t be sure. Zombies must have like, instincts or something. Why else would they become the aggressive shambling corpses you’ve come to know.?

You don’t know if he can fully understand you but he’s less restless when you speak, sitting calmly rather than scratching the wall and floor where he can reach. The occasional shuffle of movement makes things slightly less monotonous though it's hard not to tense up at the noise. Movement usually means danger. While you’re cracking open a can and deciding if the risk of smoke was worth a warm meal, he’s jostling around in his bonds enough to knock a jar off the shelf he’s tied to. The shattering glass loud enough to echo in the small space.

“Shhhhh!!!”

His stare’s more intense than in life, that cat-like part of him where you could feel his stare across the room, now with unblinking cloudy eyes. They’ve kept their yellow shine despite his pallor skin. But his movement’s stopped at least.

“Kenma I need you to be quiet okay? It’s dangerous to make noise. Can you be quiet for me?”

He nods.

You set your can down for now, standing and listening intently. No movement on the loud floorboards above you. No noise outside save for the rain and the occasional caw from a bird. Safe.

“Okay lemme clean this up”

Pickles are easy to pick up at least, though the whole room stinks of vinegar now. Hopefully it’s not enough to draw anything to you. Wouldn’t like, blood or something draw them? Yeah, this must be safe okay just, grab a plastic bag from the convenience store, shove the pickles and glass in and toss it out at some point later. You already have a rotting corpse for a friend you don’t need rotting food down here too. Curiosity makes you wonder though as you touch the wet food, the vinegar unpleasant on your dry fingers.

“Kenma can you smell this, or is it just blood you can smell?”

He stares blankly

“Shoot sorry okay uh, Kenma can you smell vinegar? What you just spilled?”

A pause, and then a small nod.

“Kenma, can you smell blood better?”

Awkward timing to ask that as in your distraction, your finger catches on the shards, cutting shallowly but more than enough for it to burn. Flinching at the pain you shuffle away as you hear more than see him tense in his bounds. One of his pupils swells to an unnatural level of dilation, intently watching the red dripping down your finger.

He nods.

After cleaning up the rest, much slower this time to avoid another mess up, and to keep a very very close eye on Kenma considering his reaction. You finally pick up the rest and stow it away in the corner. Wiping your hands on your old pants.

    That general store's first aid kit better have disinfecting wipes left. And it does! “My lucky day! Ah, haha..... Yeah, sarcasm isn’t very funny without an audience.” Or in general. A wipe, a bandaid, and boom! Good as new.... Geez he’s still staring.

“Kenma I’m fine, chill. You look like you want to eat me.”

He glances away though his attention, like always, inevitably comes back to you.

“It’ll heal. I know you can survive a lot of things I can’t. But I can heal and you...” 

You trail off, thinking about the injuries that plague the better half of one side of his body. Questioning how one even loses an arm but not wanting to know how.

“Shit Kenma, can you feel pain?”

Kenma blinks. Shit an actual successful one! Who knew he had it in him.

“Okay how about this, instead of using an entire wipe on just one little cut. Can I clean you off a little Kenma? It might feel better.”

A nod.

“Okay, I’m gonna come closer now. Kenma don’t move too much or you’ll scare me.”

You must actually be losing it if you’re willing to get this close, but... If it could make him more comfortable it feels worth it. Keeping your movement slow in case fast ones set off hidden hunter instincts or something, you settle at his side, reaching out for his hand and trying to hide your wince at how cold it is. Decays made his already small frame even daintier, his wrist feeling almost fragile in your hand. Don’t focus on that just, clean him up. His nails are bloodied and you wonder how one hasn’t popped off yet. Ew. But rubbing around the nail beds (there’s no chance in hell you’re risking getting underneath his nails) his palm, between his fingers, his wrist, sliding the wipe a little further up his arm to get what’s not covered by his sleeve and. “There we go! Much better.”

He blinks at you again. Man this is, really close. There are so many details to his face you couldn’t see prior. His eyes are slightly shriveled up, the skin pulling at the corners. Despite his mouth being closed you can see a hint of teeth with his lips no longer being able to fully close. His nose has caved slightly in on itself making you uncomfortably aware of where his nasal bone is. You look away with a shiver and he shimmies in front of you, his hand twitching and faltering but succeeding in holding him up. You turn again and he moves, struggling to stay within your line of sight.

“Do you... want me to look at you?”

A nod

“Kenma I can’t. I-I need a minute”

His arm violently twitches. You can’t help the way your body lurches away from him, a well trained and well needed fear response.

“Please just! I’ll do it just give me a minute I-”

You blink.

Panic blinds you as a cold hand covers your mouth, shocking your eyes back open to meet his. It stinks it stinks it stinks! Your hands squeezing against his one frail wrist to force it away, the skin leathery and wet. You feel something pop. The force of your shove makes him lose his balance, slamming the air out of his chest like a second death rattle as he meets the wall. His wide eyes look up at you, neither of you moving as the dust that was shocked up in his fall settles. And then, he looks away.

It should’ve been nice to lose the intense pressure of his stare, but it’s not. Any new unpredictable behavior is frightening. As you move to stand, he starts kicking away from you. His trajectory slightly curved as his good leg does most of the work and his arm it... it falters with each push. His wrist moved more than it should, more than it could even a minute ago.

“Wait Kenma!”

His head jerks back, silencing you. Afterwards, he continues his trek further away from you, as much as the ropes allow, audibly dragging across the floor.

“....Kozume?”

No response

He’s still not looking at you.

Unsure of what to say, you stand in silent watch as he struggles to maneuver himself into a seated position, hand slipping across the floor with each attempt to push up.

“Did I hurt you Kenma?”

He ignores you in favor of trying to scratch the floor with his limp hand, your previous work on cleaning him up already being undone.

You sigh as you open your pack. Only once your attention is away from him does he look up, looking away each time you lift your head. Satisfied once you find what you wanted, you start closing the distance between the two of you, pausing as he straight up glares at you. Face tense.

“Kenma?”

And in the most surprising gesture so far, he lifts his hand to place a finger over his lips. The gesture is clumsy, his fingers are unable to fully close and his hand’s dangling limply but the intention is clear.

He’s shushing you.

You roll your eyes.

“Kenma I didn’t raise my voice because I was looking at you. This is just.. It’s a lot. You’re a lot.”

He looks like he’d be blinking if his lids decided to move this time.

“Kenma, it’s okay. We’re okay. Or we will be once we get you patched up. That-” You point at his limp hand. “Doesn’t look comfortable. Is it okay if I come closer?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Kenma is it okay if I come closer? I promise I’ll be quiet.”

A pause and then he nods, his head turned just enough to see you as you finish the trip back to him. “Now I don’t know a lot about medical care but I think? Your wrist might be dislocated. So here’s what I need you to do.” You guide him through the motions, taking your time to make sure everything's lined up like the diagrams in the first aid booklet. It’s not possible to position yourself right and keep your distance but if this is how you die, trying to help an old friend feel more comfortable then fuck it. You’ll go out a proud idiot. Pushing his hand down it snaps back into place with a crack. He hisses in discomfort.

“It’s all better now. You’re all fixed up okay? But just to be safe, can I have your hand Kenma?” His hand appears in yours near immediately. “I want to wrap this as if it were sprained, since you can’t heal? I’m worried we tore some of your muscle or something and I don’t want the damage to spread. Hold still okay?” The bandage wraps up and around, carefully around his palm. It’s almost like taping up his fingers before a game. “Is that okay Kenma?” He nods, gaze not rising from the floor and the rest of the day is spent in silence, Kenma occasionally testing his hand’s movement throughout the night.