#and each time i slept- not exaggerating in the slightest- it felt like i had been asleep for HOURS

[extervus]

Scrambled home fresh duck eggs with onions, red peppers, yellow peppers and mushrooms. Like you even care

[chanstasy]

TASTES LIKE HEAVEN

PAIRING han jisung x female!reader.

CONTENT smut, fluff, established relationship, soft dom!jisung, oral (f), slight hair pulling kink.

WORDCOUNT 3,0k.

DETAILS jisung helping his girlfriend discover her preferences in oral sex after a first failed attempt at eating her out.

NOTE i'm extremely grateful for the incredible feedback i had with my first post, i'm so happy to read so many compliments on my writing. i'll try to improve even more and create better quality fics. now it's turn for the hanji agenda !

© erotichan. translating and/or reposting is not allowed.

DISCLAIMER ( ! ) this is not intended to promote unprotected sexual practices or the security of not getting pregnant/not contracting STD. please don't take this as your comprehensive sex education. all facts and events are fictitious. the written scenes do not represent any real person nor do they plan to steal/falsify their identity. any coincidence with names and places is pure artistic creation by and for entertainment.

it's been weeks since that night where you felt the greatest shame of your life. there is a high chance that you are just exaggerating, but nothing can convince you that it didn't feel that way. no matter what you do now, every time you look at your boyfriend you can only see the sequence in which he tried to go down on you and found himself with your lamest excuse to stop him from doing so.

you don't even know what to say in your defense — you still felt too embarrassed to let it flow so naturally. how can you explain to jisung that despite having lost your virginity to him you still feel that oral sex is something very intimate? it makes you feel so anxious to think that someone is tasting you. you've imagined it plenty of times, and the moment it could have happened, you chickened out. in jisung's defense, there was not a single thought behind his eyes when you stopped him. you didn't want him to take the time to use his mouth and wanted him to go straight to bury himself inside you? perfect for him!

the truth is, a considerable amount of days have passed since the event. you've barely had time to see each other so the opportunities to have even the slightest intimacy were slim, but you knew since you got up in the morning and received a text from jisung saying that he would be in your place at night that it will be the night to give it a second try. you would never have put so much effort into shaving, exfoliating and perfuming if it wasn't like that. you knew.

you also know there is nothing to fear. jisung has been so gentle with you on the few occasions that you slept together, he genuinely wants to unwrap your sexuality little by little. he met you as an inexperienced and shy girl and he feels that he is corrupting you, so he takes it slow.

just the way you are now, pure and given up for him to touch, it's his favorite moment.

his hands run over your skin so warmly, his lips can't detach from yours. he laces your fingers with his, loving how you melt into the feeling of his mouth diving into yours. he enjoys foreplay too much, he has everything he likes at his disposal. your body, your vulnerability and the arousal erupting between your legs.

he's still understanding your body, that's the main reason he insists on delving into oral sex. when you do it it's great, of course, but jisung wants to learn too. he wants you to teach him, to show him how he can take such wonderful care of you and make you see stars as you have done with your mouth. he wants to see you shiver beneath him, gasping for air and choking on your words, unable to even formulate his name.

his knee presses between your legs, applying just enough pressure to make you whimper into his mouth. jisung pays attention to your movements and to your curious eyes when he draws his kisses towards your chest. he wants to take his time, he presses his lips to your jaw, to your neck, to your throat, to your chest, to your stomach, every inch that leads him to your core.

you can anticipate his target as his hands circle your hips, sliding to the outside of your thighs. your eyes turn a little unsure realizing what he's doing. unlike that first attempt, jisung moves much more cautiously. he has enough time between movements to notice the way you avoid eye contact with him ― which wouldn't be a problem if he didn't remember how you searched for his gaze to feel safe while he stretched you out.

he smiles softly. if there's one thing he knows how to do, it's joke around to ease the tension. and it always, always works. your eyes meet his, waiting for him to fire off his question.

"are you scared about this?" he whispers, sliding his hands around your thighs.

your legs close around his, showing that hesitation makes you even more vulnerable. you shake your head, knowing what you feel. "no, i'm not scared" you smile too, a little embarrassment peaking between words. "i'm just nervous."

he loves when you are honest with him in any kind of sexual and non-sexual situation. he loves that you can guide him to find exactly what to avoid or what to find to make you feel good. he holds himself into his arms, briefly giving up closeness with your sex so he can get closer to your face again.

"why are you nervous?" he asks in a sweet voice, hovering you. "what worries you, baby?"

"i feel like i'm worrying too much about it and it's actually not a big deal," you admit, wanting to sound as unhurtful as possible.

but jisung doesn't feel hurt because he knows that, although it largely depends on him, it also involves your own preferences. he laughs, pressing a small kiss to your lips. he must remain realistic. "probably. that will depend on you."

your hands run up his arms, keeping him close to your upper body. "will that be alright?" you ask, meeting his gaze. "i mean, if i don't like it, it's still fine, right?"

jisung presses another kiss, he focus on the way your lips move as you talk. "why wouldn't it be fine? do you think that all boys like to be given head?"

you widen your eyes, being quite obvious with your answer. "yes, that's the point!"

he giggles, forcing himself to bury his head in your shoulder. he understands your concern, but he also knows that you are just being pessimistic. "i know communication is key, but maybe you should talk less," he whispers into the crook of your neck. "you haven't let me do anything yet."

he's right, you think. your head clears of all those intruding thoughts as jisung presses his lips to your neck again. you wrap your hands around his waist, loving the warmth of his body on top of yours. he nibbles at the skin above your collarbones, plucking a small whine from your mouth. you start to get restless and that's a good sign for him.

his hands take a hold of your hips, he holds them in place once he decides to face your cunt again. he's progressive, crawling on the mattress until he can drop his weight comfortably onto his stomach and his hands anchor in your underwear. "is it new?" he asks, playing with the lingerie that he knows perfectly well you bought for this occasion. "dammit it's so pretty, i don't even want to take it off".

you can't find the words to answer, his fingers slide through your folds and leave you speechless. he knows exactly what he's doing with his thumb, dragging it over your underwear to test how sensitive you are. quite enough, judging by your legs that threaten to close one more time. jisung presses his lips to the inside of your thighs, making loud, chasty noises. his kisses are sticky, tickly. part of you wants to laugh but another part knows the laugh won't last long, and sure enough, it doesn't even come out of your mouth when jisung sighs directly to your core.

you look down at the sound and find him licking his lips. he is hungry, depraved, in need of you. fuck, it's happening, says the voice inside your head. you must admit that you do feel some kind of fear now. your eyes drift to jisung's hands as he tugs at the ends of your underwear, ripping it off and throwing it away despite complimenting it seconds ago. it's surely pretty, but it's prettier when it's out of his way.

you can assure nothing prepared you for this moment.

you've had your boyfriend's fingers close, even inside of you, but this is the first time jisung has parted your folds to take a long lick between them. your entire nervous system is caught off guard, the sensation is foreign — not to say strange. you flinch, it's a short and shivering reaction to his lips against your pussy. jisung doesn't give you a warning about what he's going to do, instead, he lets your body meet with the new sensations without explanation so you can assign your own meaning to it. he will not tell you that it has to feel a certain way because he has already done it with someone else, no, he lets you experience it and then designate it yourself. he surrounds your clit with his cushiony lips, pressing his tongue on it gently. he is determined, he knows precisely what he has to do but he does it subtly. you feel a heat, a humidity in an area that is not used to feeling that way.

"let me go slowly" he whispers right before he flicks his tongue and elicits a very obvious gasp from you, the subtlety of the contact that his tongue makes with your organ makes you desperate. this is maddening, it's the only thing that comes to your head. he dives in those small movements to suck firmly, causing your hips to buck this time. his right arm slides over your pelvis, pressing his palm against your lower stomach to prevent your reflexes from leading him to hurt you with his teeth. "relax, beautiful. i won't go anywhere until you cum".

so many incoherent curses slip from your lips, jisung can't quite make out what you're babbling but it sounds like music to his ears anyway. he exchanges his sucking with his licking and makes you feel the pleasure building torturously progressive. well, because that's the whole point.

"jisung—" you breathe out this time, unable to use a firme voice.

he doesn't take it as a call but as a request for more. jisung detaches his mouth from you, he takes advantage of how much his supplies make him salivate to drop a strand of saliva over your pussy. he spreads it with his fingers, he makes it messy before giving another long lick that only allows him to confirm his previous suspicions. "you taste so good, love".

your gut clenches at his comment, your cheeks start to feel hotter than before. your whole body is on fire.

you decide to raise your head to take a look without considering how dangerous it is. the image of jisung concentrating on taking everything he can ruins you. the way his jaw tightens as he sucks and his eyes close as he sinks into your taste blows your mind. there are no words to describe how lustful and sinful the scene in front of you is. your brow furrows, you feel so perverted for loving what you see.

there's something about the lovely noises you let out paired with the call of his name that fill the void of true words that let him know that he is doing good. he's doing amazing, actually. your hands slide over your chest, kneading your breasts to channel how restless you really are. jisung gives a particularly strong suck that makes one of your hands impulsively lower towards him. you retract it soon after, worried about what your fingers could do.

he feels the touch and how it disappears, and immediately grabs your wrist to bring your hand to his hair. "don't stop yourself," he insists, stroking your thigh. "let me know that i'm making you feel something, anything."

"i don't want to hurt you," you whisper, scared at the thought of pulling too hard on his hair or harhsly dragging your nails across his scalp.

jisung chuckles, he gently shakes his head to contradict you. "you won't, my love. you know i love the feel of your hands on me."

you don't need to be told twice. your fingers slide through the strands of his hair that are longer than usual, which allows you to take them with ease. both of your hands move them away from his face so they don't get in the way of his eyes. jisung looks up with the gesture, beaming at you with such a sweet smile in contrast to his actions.

he is so happy to eat you, he couldn't describe how pleased he is to have managed to bury his head between your legs. you can't help but whine at this, he just takes your breath away.

"does that feel good, angel?" he asks, knowing the answer is yes. you nod, you need to take advantage of the only moment your brain is working. you mutter a muffled "yes", because it does feel good, but is also feels like your walls are begging to have something inside.

jisung can tell your muscles are contracting, and it's so hard for him not to pleasure you with his fingers until you're shaking and coming around them. he frowns at his intrusive thoughts, trying not to ruin his own flow, and brings his hand up to your clit. he makes repeated, balanced circles with his thumb that make you tug on his hair. the pull sends waves of heat throughout his body ― he can't verbally admit that it turns him on, but the way his hips grind against the mattress speaks for him. his poor cock throbs in his pants with every little moan that comes out of your mouth.

your juices seep down your hole but they don't go far, jisung takes every little trace with his tongue. your hips become impossible to control, and he wraps his arms around your thighs to stop you. "so desperate, love. don't you know how to behave?"

you whimper, releasing your hold on his hair to rise up on your forearms. "it's not fair!" you whimper, feeling the build going nowhere because jisung keeps interrupting himself. "i need more than that!"

he lifts his head at your comment, a small pout forming on his lips as he pulls away from your cunt. you feel a frustrating pain after losing the pleasure. he just smiles like a bloody bastard. "what's the fun if i don't tease you?" jisung asks, digging the tips of his fingers into your thighs.

"but i was feeling close!" you protest.

he laughs ghoulishly ― you're so cute when you don't get what you want, jisung spoils you so much. he shakes his head, licking the excess of you from his lips. "you were worried it wouldn't be a big deal and i have you cumming in less than five minutes?" he teases you, clicking his tongue sarcastically. "come on, (name), you can do better than that".

"jisung!" you growl, throwing your head back. you can't believe he's doing this to you.

his laughter echoes in your ears, and you feel one of his hands loosen its grip on your thigh to grip one of yours. jisung slides his fingers between yours, lacing them together to get your attention. he can't be serious right now, you think as you lower your head to watch him, your chest rising and falling agitatedly. you make eye contact and witness the delicacy with which he plants a kiss on the back of your hand. your boyfriend never loses his manners.

"just tell me what you want" he insists, wanting to hear the exact words come out of your mouth even though you know he won't leave you unsatisfied. "you haven't said a single coherent word."

"i want you to continue where you were" you finally express yourself clearly. "you can't make me feel this good and leave it halfway!"

"you see? it's not that hard" he jokes around, loving the way you make his ego feel so big. "you know exactly what you like."

jisung once again separates your glistening folds with his free hand, and points his tongue directly at your abused bundle of nerves. he has so much control of his movements that you feel that the weak building from before is there again as if it had never faded, and with it, the warmth in your lower abdomen. you squeeze his hand, and then you feel him caress the back of it with his thumb. oh, there it is again.

you support your weight on your forearm, carefully observing the obscene actions. your head literally hangs to the side, your body loses all sense of balance and firmness. jisung's tongue turns you into sand that vanishes between his own fingers. your abdomen contracts with the feeling you fight against, and jisung pays attention to every detail. he looks up until he makes eye contact with you, and feels himself getting harder at the sight of your dilated pupils. your heavy breathing, your reddish cheeks, everything makes you look incredibly sexy from this angle.

he smirks, lips puffy and shiny. he comes across several things to say at that moment, but since you already complained about interrupting the moment and edging you, he keeps them to himself as he presses his tongue flat against you. you can still see the smile at the corners of his lips, and you feel your legs trembling with weakness. his free arm rests under your thigh, but still manages to reach a hand to the side of it to shoot your chills down. jisung feels the goosebumps on your skin and gets as excited as when he just got into the bed with you ― the realization that his actions make your hair stand on end sets off a warmth in his stomach that he can only describe as an obsession with you.

your fingers press the blankets under you into a fist, wrinkling the fabric. jisung can feel how tense you are, and he doesn't stop until he hears you gasp for air. your sounds turn into moans of his name even more incoherent than your babbling, and when he looks up, he can only see your extended neck thanks to your head being thrown back. you feel the waves of pleasure spread through your core, it's not overwhelming but it's not subtle either. it's just the right and necessary amount. of course, jisung doesn't find it enough, you can hear the exaggerated way he cleans up the mess you've made with leaks you didn't even know could come out of you.

the wonderful world of orgasms is still something as new to you as the overstimulation that jisung is putting you through. he gives another few licks to your abused clit, causing your nerves to send little shocks in an electrifying way. "ugh—hold on!" you whine with tight eyes, unconsciously closing your legs around his head.

oh, jisung could die there. but he certainly still wants to stay alive so he can enjoy how good you must feel. you're so wet and turned on, he can't wait another second to slide inside you.

you feel his arms parting your thighs and you open your eyes to watch his figure climbing on top of you once more. there is something inside you that feels lost, disoriented, and that makes you search for jisung's mouth to find your way again. he approaches your face with a smile, a mischievous one. even in the darkness of the room you can see how glossy his lips are. your hands follow his arms that surround your waist, enclosing you in them. his eyes fixate on your own lips and the way you let out your audible, ragged breath.

"i'm absolutely obsessed with you, (name)" he whispers over them. he presses his much more gently than you expected him to before speaking again. "you taste like heaven".

you feel short of breath but still you go back in search of his mouth. you let your tongue meet his until you have a taste of yourself, and confirm that indeed, it has been something worth experiencing. there's so much you want to try with jisung. your hands slide into his hair, feeling how warm his cheeks are along the way. he is burning for you ― you bite his lower lip, gently tugging on it until jisung presses his forehead against yours. his hips do much the same thing, grinding against yours. you smile exhaling a small laugh, a giggle that supports your fucked up gaze.

jisung grants you the eye contact, and he smiles just as dumb at the sound of your voice. "that was the sexiest thing you've done since we started dating" you state, not being aware of how wrong you are.

the smile on his lips turns into a cocky gesture, progressively morphing into a smug expression. his hands slide from your waist to your arms, taking your hands in his hair and trapping them above your head. he applies the slightest pressure, but he lets you know that you no longer have a choice but to keep giving all of yourself to him.

"oh no, angel. that was just your introduction to oral sex" he contradicts you, chuckling. "i still have to prepare you to meet the sexiest."

needless to say, you are more than ready to do so.

TAGLIST ( ! )

@lemonchannie @super-btstrash-posts @justamessofablog @seochhj @leiasfanaccount648 @cb097maze @helomaby



[2kverrr]

TᕼᖇOᑌGᕼ TᕼIᑕK ᗩᑎᗪ TᕼIᑎ

Kate Marsh x GN!Reader

Summary: All on my previous post responding to the request.

Warnings: Swearing (if you squint), bullying, Kate being sad 

It was love at first sight for me, which may be a bit of an exaggeration but now I don't think I could see it in any other way. We met in the dormitories, on September 2013', unpacking all the bags shipped off from our parents, and then our eyes locked. It was as if the rest of the world melted away and it was only the two of us in the room.

I felt something unlike anything else I'd ever felt, and that's when I knew, I had an immediate crush on the Christian girl from 222. Maybe it was fate, you know, with the angel numbers and all. I searched it up later that night, 222: a message of hope, basically saying to trust that everything is working out exactly as it's supposed to.

That same day a very rare surge of confidence made me introduce myself to her, and thank God it did.

"Hey, I'm Y/n." I smiled nervously, fiddling with a crease in my trousers.

The dirty blonde spun around to face me, a teddy bear held in her arms, "Oh, hi. I'm Kate." She returned the smile. She looks down at the teddy clutched in her hands, her face turning red before chucking it onto her bed.

We soon became each other's first friends at Blackwell, and I couldn't have been happier. We talked about anything and everything, laughed until our stomachs hurt and spent every free moment together.

Though in good there will forever be bad, and it killed me to watch it unfold onto poor Kate.

The student next door in 221 gave her a hard time from the beginning. Victoria Chase, member of Blackwell's elitist club, member of the student body, and Blackwell's biggest bitch. As much as I remind Kate how badly Victoria has treated her, Kate being her forgiving self constantly lets it go as if it were nothing, telling me 'she may have had a bad day' or 'I'd rather accept and move on than hate'.

But, recently it'd gotten worse, she wasn't sleeping, she wasn't eating properly, only leaving her room for school and the occasional lunch. It's been plaguing my mind for the past few days, so I simply sit at my desk, not really looking at anything, just thinking of ways I could cope with watching the woman I love slowly break down.

It's early in the morning, early enough to hear Kate's violin through the halls, but the usual Mozart piece had been brought to silence as of late. I stand up from my desk and walk over to my door, quickly checking my appearance in the mirror before making my way to Kate's room.

I raise my hand in a fist and lightly knock a rhythm on the wooden door, a mumbled, "It's open." spoke in return.

I slowly walk into the room and I'm met with a tired Kate sitting on the edge of her bed. She was in her usual attire, skirt, blouse, cardigan, etcetera. The room is dark and messy, which is very unlike the hazel-eyed girl.

"Good morning, Kate." I greet her, a small smile on my face in hope to lighten her mood.

She glances up at me, giving me a more clear view of the heavy bags under her eyes, "Good morning, Y/n."

"Did you sleep well?" I question timidly, fearing the slightest hint of her behaviour could be the downfall of our friendship.

She doesn't answer, only giving me a sigh and letting her shoulders deflate, on hand playing with the cross on her chest. I wonder if she's even slept, it sure doesn't look like it. She's always been one to follow a strict sleep schedule, seeing her like this is almost like unknown grounds.

"Kate, you've been awfully quiet recently," I murmur, eyebrows softly furrowed in worry.

She looks up at me, a small smile on her face, "I'm just tired, that's all."

I can tell she's lying, mainly because she's no good at it. I thought we'd promised to tell each other everything, I wouldn't be mad if she didn't feel comfortable telling me anything but it leaves me to believe I haven't assured her enough. Something's up, I don't need to know what exactly is up but as long as Kate is happy by the end of the day, that is all that matters to me.

I sit down next to her on her bed, letting my hands fall on my lap "You know you can tell me anything, right?" I persist, my worry turning into concern.

She bites her lip as if debating whether or not to tell me, before finally admitting, "It's been a bit of a rough week."

"What do you mean by 'rough'?"

We spend the rest of the time we had before first period talking about the incident, I was heartbroken, to say the least. Listening to the poor girl try to recover memories from the night of the party, finally understanding the looks from across the classroom, the whispers in the hallway, and the snide comments passed throughout the dormitories. I'd been wondering why Stella and Alyssa had strayed away from the girl, but you'd think someone's friends would stick with them.

By the end of the day, I'd returned to Kate's room and held her while she sobbed in my arms. Telling her everything will be fine when in reality, she's going through a nightmare that she can't escape, that'll stay with her for months, years, hell maybe even the rest of her life.

Once she'd calmed down she'd dry her eyes, and take my hands into hers, flushing my face red, then thanking me for being there. This became her new routine, a schedule to follow, and it's set to ruin her life.

Days go by and nothing's changed, clearly, this will be something going down in the Blackwell class of 14' history book, and it disgusts me.

I care about her too much to see her go through this, I have to help her.

I stroll out of my science lesson, Brooke by my side as we discuss some project we'd been given to work on until our conversation is stopped by some ruckus down the hall. We turn to each other with curious expressions, and then make our way to the small noise.

The both of us immediately stop in our tracks to take in the sight before us, not too much of a crowd had gathered, thankfully, but I can tell f it continued it would only escalate.

Textbooks and folders fallen onto the floor, Logan walking away from a defenceless Kate, laughing with his douchey friends. I leave Brooke's side to help the Christian girl with her belongings, however, when I thought that'd be the end of Kate's unfortunate daily harassment, Victoria and her minions make their entrance whilst I'm trying to sort all of Kate's things into her locker. They lock on to their prey and immediately attack. Picking on every minor insecurity they could possibly identify in the girl and tearing her to shreds.

Victoria and her friends are relentless, they won't stop until Kate's broken.

"Hey Jesus slut, planning on going wild again next week?" Taylor spit.

"Yeah, you sure knew your way around those guys' throats." Courtney follows her slightly taller friend's lead, giving Victoria the perfect moment to enter.

"Who would've thought little Christian whore Kate spends her spare time getting frea-"

I stop the blonde mid-sentence before she can dig too deep, "Just leave it, Victoria." I mumble, a poor attempt to get the trio to stop.

She scoffs, a raised eyebrow in disbelief, "And who are you again? Kate's guardian angel? Not like she'd be so worthy of one." A smirk plasters her face, a hand firmly placed on her hip.

"It doesn't matter who I am, just leave her alone." I try.

But it's no use, they won't stop until Kate's hurt worse than she already is. Eventually, I can't take it no longer, "What the fuck is up with you? You've treated her like dirt ever since you laid eyes on her, what could she have possibly done to you? She's the single most amazing person you'll ever meet, yet you never took the time to learn that, you were too busy trying to figure out what'll hurt her the most." I roar, anger fuelling my words.

"She's the purest person ever, and you're picking off a stupid accident that was forced on her." By now a crowd had formed to watch Victoria finally be put in her place.

"Maybe if you weren't such a bitch all the time, you'd see what there is to love about her. But you choose to take out your own insecurities on her. Do you not see what you've done to her, you've made her friends fucking leave her, you've made her family look at her in a completely different way, and you've made people who love her watch her suffer. And, please, let me tell you, watching someone you love's life simply waste away sucks, you know?" Victoria stays silent, and so does the rest of the school. Before I know it, I realised what I'd done. Not only had I just lashed out at someone who could kick me out of the school within a heartbeat, but I'd just admitted I love Kate. I internally hope they think I meant it in a friendly way... Who am I kidding? I'm fucked.

I leave the school grounds into the pouring rain, clothes getting soaked in the Arcadia Bay weather. Kate attempts to keep up with my wide strides down the street, trying to grab my attention with her words.

It takes her snatching my hand into her own and tugging me back to finally gather my focus. She stays silent, just looking at my face, my clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows giving her enough information on how I was feeling. The two of us stand there, hair sticking to our clothes and clothes sticking to our skin.

After what seems like an eternity, Kate finally speaks up, "Do you really?"

I don't answer for a short while, mentally debating whether or not I should admit it. Clearly, I was taking too long because Kate, yet again, speaks up.

"Y/n, do you mean it?" She asks softly, an unsure expression planted on her face.

I nod, unable to form the right words. I watch her face change from worry to ecstatic, her hand softly squeezing my hand tighter. We stay like that for a while, rain still whipping at our faces, the both of us waiting for the other to say something.

"I love you, Y/n." She smiles with bliss.

I don't respond only looking down at my shoes to hide the shit-eating grin on my face, plus, I don't think I could look her in the eye without getting overwhelmed.

My eyes remain facing the ground, "I love you too, Kate." I speak quietly, I'm sure the girl almost didn't hear the confession over the thunder in the sky. "And I guess everybody knows now." I joke with a humourless laugh. Kate places her palm on my cheek making me look up at her into the beautiful hazel eyes I've grown to know and love.

She leans in, pressing her lips against mine in a soft and gentle kiss. The both of us stand there, just holding each other, enjoying the moment we've been waiting for. I don't know what the future holds, but I know that I'll be by her side, through thick and thin.

[some-dr-writings]

Shuichi, Kokichi and Nagito’s crush likes napping on his lap during breaks

Shuichi Saihara:

·       Ah yes, the Super High School Level Astronomer, it was no wonder Kaito would be friends with such a person, and whoever Kaito was friends with, all his other friends would be friends with them as well, that was how Shuichi had met you. Often in those nightly training sessions, for a break Kaito, Shuichi, Maki and whoever else felt like joining them that evening would jog around till finding you, telescope by your side. You’d speak of the stars, of legends that surrounded them, of how travelers of old navigated the world through them, how stars were born, what there different colors meant, and so much more. Folklore, history, science, didn’t matter, you knew and continued to learn about each and any possible aspect you could about those specks of light. However, you were rather quiet outside of those moments, though you weren’t closed off. It was more so, if you weren’t speaking of stars you’d just so intently listen to others.

·       … Maybe that’s how or why it happened? More often than not, when at school you were rather drowsy. You were often out, camping in the mountains away from the harsh city lights so when you were at school it was nice. When you were around, Shuichi made sure to spend time with you. You were able to speak so much without words, it was fun trying to interpret your expressions. Truthfully Shuichi didn’t think much of it at first, it was just how you were, quiet, yet outgoing, bubbly even. Others however had a more difficult time understanding you, somehow they didn’t notice the many little nuances that made up you, your slightest shift of expression or tilt of the head, your body language, how you spoke more so with your eyes, engaging in the conversations in your own way. How others couldn’t Shuichi had no idea at first, you were captivating, how could they NOT notice!?

·       At first he had thought it was simply him being a detective, often having to interpret and read people through his work with his Uncle, but… that was not quite it, there was more to this. I didn’t come naturally, he WANTED to understand you. He found himself drawn to you, your gravity too powerful for him to even consider resisting. And it seemed the same could be said for you too. Whenever break rolled around, no matter how short it may be, you’d always seek him out. Due to more often than not being awake through the night you’d nap, but Shuichi didn’t mind, not even when you used his shoulder or lap as a pillow. He’d read his novels aloud to you, or if he was working through a case, walk through his logic aloud, he’d just speak even if you were asleep, something in him just knew you were still taking this all in.

·       Even if he was somehow one of the few people who understood you, he wondered how you had even seen him yet. You were like a supernova in his eyes, so bright, so stunning, so colorful, leaving only beauty and wonder in your wake, how did you notice him? By chance did your heart race too at the thought of spending more time together? Did you also find a soft, comforting, warmth in his presence as he did you? Did you adore hearing him speak just as he did you? Whatever the case may be for you, he sure hopped it was something similar because he simply wished to your beloved stars above that you felt even half as amazing as he did with you, he just wanted you to know of such a fantastic emotion, it, no… you were astonishing and he simply wished to share and indulge in it with you.

   Kokichi Oma:

·       “Y/N!” “Hu-AH” You groaned, shakily pushing yourself off the ground. Then you noticed all your items had slipped out of your bookbag. You sighed, seeing all your papers had fallen out of your folders as well. “Geez, Y/N, I didn’t know you were so clumsy!” “Ah, just tired today I guess.” You noticed how Kokichi kept taking glances to you as he helped gather your items. Not surprising considering you literally just tumbled down a flight of stairs. Before you knew it all your supplied had already been collected and placed back in your bag. That was really quick. You winced as you stood up. Your knees almost collapsed under you and Kokichi was in the position to catch you should you have fallen but thankfully you were able to do so yourself. “Hey, hey! Where are you going?” “Oh, uh… umm.” You thought and thought but couldn’t remember. It was so hard, you felt like your mind was swimming and swirling, all thoughts fuzzy and difficult to reach.

·       Then suddenly you were being dragged along by the hand. “What the-” “You are coming with me! This’ll be fun! Especially if you have nothing better to do!” You were completely confused but more so shocked from the whole situation so you couldn’t really bring yourself to try to stop or ask where you were even going.

·       Koichi just kept running around, getting you completely lost. Eventually though he let go, dashing a few paces forward before tumbling and falling. “O-Oma!?” He simply laughed, sitting up. He hummed as the wind rolled past swaying his hair as he looked up to the sky. “Oh, Y/N, Y/N! Look at that!” You were confused looking up to the sky where he was pointing. “Ugh, you can’t see it from there, sit down already!” Taking your arm, he playfully tugged on it, but even that was enough to send you falling. Even with you sprawled across his lap, he managed to scooch over enough so just your head was there. “Perfect! Now, that cloud looks like Gonta; giant, kinda dumb, soft. And that one-” You were… quite puzzled. Clouds? Of all things? That was what he wanted to show you? You heard Kokichi speaking, but it was all noise to you, it held no meaning. You just listened as he droned on and pointed, the shadow of his outstretched arm conveniently covering your eyes.

·       You never really noticed how nice and soft Kokichi’s voice could be. Then again, he was always so loud or quiet, constantly shifting tone you never got the chance to just hear it… It was… rather pleasant. You wanted to hear him longer, engage in whatever game he was playing but so quickly your eyes drooped and all our senses simply lulled to nothing.

·       Then it was evening. At first the sight of those orange and purple hues confused you, but then- “Y/N, you’re alive! It’s been twenty years and Miu’s army of robots have taken over! We need you to join the resistance!” He couldn’t help but laugh at your absolutely baffled expression. “But that’s a lie.” “… oh yeah… Wait…” You suddenly completely awakened, abruptly sitting up. “It’s evening already!? Did we skip class!?” “It’s whateves, Y/N. Hope’s Peak doesn’t care if we skip class.” “No, not that!” You sighed, burrowing your face into your hands and mumbled to yourself. “I didn’t take the new meds again. Of course, I didn’t.” Huh, new medicine was it. Kokichi smirked, dragging you up onto your feet. “C’mon! You’ll make us late for dinner!”

·       The next several weeks were like that. No matter what you did you’d always end up napping on Kokichi’s lap at some point. This was much needed. Your therapist had been fired so you had to start all over with someone new, who wanted to give you new medicine meaning new side affects that could only be worked around via time management. It was a process trying to work out what amount you needed and what not. Napping with Kokichi was just about the only solace you had gotten in the chaos. When you had found a good balance of medication no longer were you exhausted in the day or losing sleep at night. It was great though, admittedly you missed it.

·       It had been about a week or so since your medication seemed to stable out and all was well with you once more. The bells for break had tolled and you left class. Break wasn’t long, but you didn’t care. Hearing shrieks and screams of terror and that ‘Nishishi” you knew you were close. Seeing Kokichi make his escape you simply went to one of the benches outside. And there you waited.

·       You still waited even after the bells signaling the end of break had tolled. “Oh? Y/N actually skipping class!? What has this world come too!? Soon the sky will be falling!” Seeing he wasn’t lying per say and just exaggerating you decided to answer. “I haven’t taken my nap yet.” You took his hand, pulling him onto the bench and you placed your head atop his lap. Though you weren’t not tired, a mid-day nap in the sun just felt so nice.

·       Thankfully for Kokichi, you were asleep so you couldn’t see his giddy smile. Though with this seemingly becoming the new norm you’d likely catch him one of these days. For now he’d just indulge in this moment with you, his crush and worry about that when it happens.

   Nagito Komaeda:

·       Though you were an Ultimate, an amazing person who could take care of themself just fine, Nagito worried about you. You slept, a lot. No matter when or where you could find a place to nap should you want too. It wasn’t all the time though, Nagito still had many conversations with you and had gotten to see your talent firsthand, an extraordinary sight! When you were awake, you’d spend much of your time with him, often over analyzing him trying to see if there was a scientific cause for the outlandish phenomena that was his luck. Not surprising since you were a scientist. At times Nagito wondered if your mind worked so hard when you were awake, trying to solve every last mystery the world had to offer, that drove you to exhaustion so quickly. That would explain how you could be so excitedly chatting away about one theory of yours or another only for you to suddenly fall over, knocked out. Thankfully it seemed Nagito’s luck would kick in moments like that so he could catch you before your face smashed into the ground.

·       Always following you around, trying to keep your drowsy tendency from getting you into danger, from just always being beside he had become your assistant of sorts. Though he would never dare to insist on it, he always sneakily became the one to carry your stuff around in the end, even if you had started your journey with them. Taking you by your shoulders he’d steer you away from bumping into other people or objects. He would take your hand, but he felt unworthy of such an honor unless you decided he could and he knew if he did a bright scarlet would erupt on his cheeks and his heart would pick up in pace, things you surely would notice with your keen eye. When you were awake, nothing could get past you, so Nagito would have to be extra careful. He couldn’t let you figure out his feelings. He simply didn’t have it in him to confess and he was garbage, surely you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings, but if you did somehow, it’s not like he would deny you, someone like him had no right to deny an Ultimate, or so he thought at least.

·       Although… Nagito couldn’t help his feelings seeping out, no matter how much he had tried to keep them inside. Often, he was just talking and suddenly he’d be complimenting you and about to say he loved you and he’d have to cut himself off by causing an ‘accident’ like tripping over chairs or abruptly changing his words to say something else. He was always left a flustered mess.

·       It was just another day when Nagito strolled into your lab, finding your workspace was filled with many documents, many taped to white boards with string attacked to each and every last one, some string simply linking two pages on the same board, others stretching across the room, forcing one to duck, and twist to avoid them all, one could compare it to avoiding the lights in the laser filled room in some generic spy flic. “Hmm, but how to go about testing this?” “Testing what?” “Oh, Komaeda! Perfect timing!” You strolled over to him, looking through some file, seemingly not paying attention to your surroundings yet still avoiding all that strings. “Today I’m studying human communication!” “Uh huh.” “And I wish to test something!” You looked to him with those stunningly bright eyes as you explained, completely captivating him. “The power of words. I wish to see if they are like water in a pipe. For comparison, imagine a person as the pipe and the words water. I wonder if say a person is upset, if speaking to another person was the only way to alleviate the pressure of those emotions, or if just speaking aloud, even to no one, if that’d alleviate the pressure as well, OR if something else would happen. Yes, each individual is different, but there could still be a majority! I’m thinking we’ll go about-” a yawn escaped you before you continued. “about this… by…” You took a small notebook from your pocket, quickly scribbling down notes as Nagito lead you to a couch in the corner of the room. Nagito already knew this was coming considering that ‘pipe’ comparison didn’t make much sense since pipes would still leak, even if with another pipe around.

·       He sat beside you on the couch and moments later you rested your head on his lap. You tried holding up the little book to him and when he took it your hand and arm went limp, you already fast asleep. Nagito couldn’t help but smile, seeing you already so restful. As usually he looked through your notebook, seeing what he needed to prepare in order to set up your tests. Curiously he also looked over your notes, wondering how your interest in astrology the day prior lead to this through your connective thinking. It was always fun seeing how you could draw connections between seemingly completely unrelated topics, then again that was likely how you were such a good scientist. As he continued to read, fascinated by your research he began to wonder something. Looking to you his heart melted. “I love you.” Immediately his heart raced, and he felt that heat raising to his cheeks. What if a person were to vent to another, even if they weren’t paying attention? Perhaps because he still had told you, he still would have gotten this off his chest and he’d stop almost confessing to you so often.

·       That was how Nagito had begun to whisper his affections to you as you slept. It was a thrill like no other, fearing you’d awake right as he confessed his feelings, yet also endlessly excited by the thought as well. There was more than a fair share of times where he was almost caught, but it seemed you were none the wiser to his words of love.

·       “Hmm? Komeada? What are you mumbling about?” For a moment he froze, love struck at your soft tender expression. “Ah-uh-Oh? I was speaking? I apologize if I woke you up.” You simply huffed in response… a-and you just kept looking at him? Oh boy. Did you know? Was he finally caught? What would your response be? What did you think of him? “Thank you.” “Huh?” You smiled, nuzzling into him. “having this… instantaneous version of narcolepsy… Even though I started studying, I could never figure out how to stop it, maybe that’s because I get distracted easily, I- wait, no. No tangents.” You took a deep breath trying to reorganize your thoughts. “It… can be scary, one moment being awake then suddenly asleep. Before you I’d often sleep on the train and go way past my stop and get lost. There have also been a number of near-death experiences like when I fell asleep when walking across the street. I… it’s nice, knowing you’re around. To keep me safe and keep an eye on me. And I guess waking up to hearing your voice, waking up knowing for a fact I was safe… I don’t know, it was just nice, and I want you to know, I truly do appreciate you putting up with me.”

·       How… how could you make him fall for you more and more so effortlessly? Well, if you liked hearing his voice when you woke up… maybe… maybe next time he wouldn’t stop speaking of his love for you, even as you awoke. After all, he could never deny you anything, especially not your own comfort and ease of mind.

[suddenlysackler]

Keep Up

Henry McHenry x Reader

TW: tad bit of angst, mention of divorce, reader feels a bit insecure, henry is an ass but we’re working on him, brief mention of addiction/sobriety

A/N: Writing is hard but I’ve been working really hard on this so I wanted to share it even though there was really no point to the plot I just wanted to write for Henry. I have literally no posting schedule/writing schedule anymore. This takes place post Waltz in the Storm, only we’re gonna say Ann survived and took Annette and divorced Henry okay bye ily all so much.

...

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Your eyes are round and full of mixed emotions — trust, fear, maybe some excitement — as you grip the helmet shoved into your hands with a vice grip.

Henry watches you from the seat of the Harley he had bought with the money from the sale of his and Ann’s estate after the divorce. It’s ridiculous, really. Completely over the top, particularly for someone who was just making a comeback in their career and trying to get back to some sort of financial stability. “Just get the fuck on the bike and try to keep up with me, will you?” His tone leaves no room for argument, his face is playfully skeptical.

The red Harley Davidson motorcycle is “fully loaded” as the sales person had told the two of you as you made your way across the show room floor just a few days ago. It’s completely with heated grips and a backrest in the passenger’s seat and a full scale infotainment system for Henry to blast his favorite music between gps directions as he sees fit. He’d passed on the built in defensive driving mechanism and balked at the Milwaukee-Eight 114 engine and even sprung for the most expensive of saddlebags. Hell, he’d even told you he was planning on getting the leather embroidered with his initials. 

Did this surprise you? No, not in the slightest.

Henry is eccentric. 

It’s your default response to the questions and comments and concerns expressed by each member of your social circle from the moment you’d mentioned that you’d been seeing someone. Questions of who, what, when, where, why, and how and worries about whether or not someone who shined so bright would be good for you and whether it would even work.

Honestly, you ask yourself the same thing almost every day. If you didn’t love him, you wouldn’t be able to see it.

He asks himself how you can see it every time he wakes up to your hair spread across his pillows.

Back to the matter at hand. You. Him. Big scary motorcycle. 

You turn your feet inward almost absentmindedly, standing pigeon toed and letting your shoulders tense up as he kicks off the bike with an exaggerated groan and comes to stand in front of you. “I’ve never done this before.” 

Henry pulls off his own helmet, tosses it to rest on the seat, and smiles knowingly at you. “That’s never stopped you before.”

“Shut up.” 

“Ann never —”

Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips parted just a bit. It was the one thing he continuously did even a year and a half into your relationship that made you lose your mind. He stops mid sentence when he sees the disappointment on your face. 

“I’m not Ann.” You say, trying so, so hard to not ruin the night. He’d been waiting for a break in the much needed rain falling over LA county for the past week to take you out and show you a good time. Try as you might, your lips start to tremble ever so slightly and you let the helmet clatter to the ground, beyond frustrated with him. With yourself even?

He rushes forward, hands all over you and your face before you can even bend at the waist to pick up the discarded the mixture of plastic and fiberglass at your feet. “I didn’t mean it.”

“You did it again.”

“But I didn’t mean it.” Henry says, pleads with you. His brown eyes convey the honest to goodness truth of it all and you know he’s good for his word. He really didn’t mean to. 

The past year was tumultuous, everyone knew that. Finding Ann stranded at sea on the coast just ten miles away from where Annette slept safely on board the yacht with her father. The accusations, the words thrown like daggers. The bliss and fervor and passion of their early days slipping away faster than vinegar leaves the bottle when you pour it, the whole ordeal just as sharp and bitter to taste. 

You’d been introduced to it just as the papers had been served to Henry’s modest home that had been inhabited for six months before Ann had made her final decision. 

He’s grateful for your loyalty and tells you that much just about every day. There isn’t a day where you doubt his love for you — how could you when you watch him work on himself in therapy and in the gym and with the way he tosses his cigarettes to the side and limits himself to a carton a week somehow? 

However, the one thing you had zero tolerance for was being compared to Ann.

Henry bites his tongue as he looks at you. He represses the urge to yell and ask why it always has to be about you, why you always have to nit pick when he does something you don’t care for. He takes a deep breath and focuses on the feel of your skin and how it’s almost as if it’s a balm for all of the negative emotions and thoughts crammed into his head. He reminds himself that you aren’t doing anything wrong by calling him out on this, that it’s appropriate to. Rather than lash out, he takes a deep breath and says the words he had been working so, so hard to work into his vocabulary in sincerity over the past year. “I’m sorry.”

The apology rings through your ears and settles in your mind. You sit with it for a moment and think about the Henry you had heard of prior to meeting him — the violent outbursts, the juxtaposition of his drinking and smoking habits in conjunction with his almost militant like work out routine. The selfishness and the narcissism and the screaming.

Your brow knits together as you process his words. “You’re sorry?” The words felt foreign on your own tongue, you couldn’t imagine how he must feel.

He nods slowly, giving you a once over as his cheeks begin to heat up. “I’m really, really sorry.” Henry promises, swears it. “It’s force of habit and that doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry. I’m working on that.”

You nod after the last word leaves his lips and you’re reminded of the fact that, yes, he is working on it. He’s working on a lot of things and you remind yourself that the whole reason he bought the bike was to celebrate one year of sobriety. With bated breath, you stand on your toes and kiss his cheek bone gingerly, an acknowledgement in it of itself. You know Henry doesn’t need your words.

Henry leans down and kisses your forehead, then crouches and grabs your helmet. He stays close to the ground for a long moment and falls to his knees. He buries his face in the fabric of your shirt and rests his arms just around the small of your back, memorizing the feel of holding you and relishing in the way your hands almost automatically move to thread through his hair, no longer matted from neglect and back to its usual thickness and shine. 

After a few moments of silence, you pull back just a bit to look at him. “I’m proud of you.” You whisper, eyes shining with a mixture of emotion.

His own eyes bore into your face, always working on committing whatever it was he was currently feeling to memory. “Thank you for helping me.”

A smile breaks out on your face and you shrug before leaning down and kissing his temple. “Always.” You murmur. “Now, will you please get me on the bike? Show me what I’ve been missing all these years.”

Henry smiles, the expression of satisfaction much wider than your own flash of your teeth. “You sure?” He asked, repeating your words from just a few minutes prior back to you.

“I’m sure.” You respond while trying to suppress the giggle that threatened to bubble past your lips at his teasing. You can’t help but cackle as he all but drags you to the bike and helps you put on the helmet, letting you inspect the bike before hopping on. When you finally straddle the seat, his left hand comes to rest over your arms, now looped around his waist and hanging on for dear life, before he hits the ignition and punches it, riding off in pure bliss and leaving the events of the past year behind, as it should be.

[amyscascadingtabs]

your light, it follows me in darkness

Jake thinks that if he had only been the type of person to worry a bit more beforehand, perhaps the subsequent fall wouldn't have felt quite as steep. If he had only remembered to think about all the things that could still go wrong, maybe he wouldn't be feeling like the ground is giving out beneath him and everything is turning hazy when the doctor speaks to them.

Low hCG levels. No heartbeat. Unfortunately, nothing we can do to stop it. Sometimes it just happens like this.

read on ao3

sneak peek below because tumblr sucks and it’s 7k, go to ao3 for the full chapter! 💞 

Jake can’t shake the feeling of guilt when the doctor confirms it.

There's nothing they could have done, she repeats in a calm and composed voice that Jake assumes is supposed to be soothing. It's not anyone's fault. Sometimes it happens like this.

 Jake understands that, logically. Still, when he thinks back to this morning, he hates himself.

~

At first, he figures Amy’s exaggerating.

Exaggerating could be the wrong word – it's not one he’d ever dream of uttering to his pregnant wife’s face – but he figures she’s just being overly worried. It was like this for the first weeks when she was pregnant with Mac, too, and everything had always been fine. Jake doesn’t think much about it when Amy pads out from the bathroom with a distracted look, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers.

 “I just don’t feel great today,” she sighs when he raises his brows, wordlessly asking how she’s doing.

“Want me to make you some more of that tea?” He offers, already pulling out the box from the cupboard. “I got loads at the store yesterday. Gots to stuck up for the baby, right?”

“I’m not feeling sick.” Amy grimaces. “But I have some weird cramping. Light, but… weird.”

“Oh.” Jake frowns. “Is that bad?”

“I don't know. It could be implantation, or muscles stretching, or pretty much anything. Then I thought I saw some blood, but there could be a million reasons for that this early, too, so I’m not sure what to think.” She shakes her head, looking fondly at Mac in his high chair when he lets out a happy squeal at some character on the iPad in front of him (anything to get your child to eat breakfast under time pressure). “I hate the first trimester. Everything’s scary.”

“Call the doctor if you're worried,” he suggests, hugging her quickly. “I’m sure everything’s fine, babe.”

Amy opens her mouth as if to say something, but in that same moment, Mac manages to outsmart the suction on his baby plate and spill soggy cornflakes-goo all over his high chair, the iPad, and himself, and the conversation comes to an abrupt end.

Jake stops by Amy’s desk a few times during the day, just to be sure, and each time she tells him she's fine. He never really worried from the start, but when he comes home that evening to find her laughing in the middle of a tickling-fight with Mac in an attempt to try and get him to put on pajamas, all worries are well and truly gone from his mind.

Once they've put their son to bed for the night, Amy disappears to the bathroom, returning holding two pregnancy tests.

“You're going to think I’m ridiculous now,” she says, placing them in front of him and lining up the two test windows. “Honestly, I hope I am. But this is a few days ago.” She points to the top set of pink lines with her shaking hand. “And the other one is today. The second line’s fainter. It's supposed to grow stronger.”

Jake squints. It's hard to see much of a difference to him, and he points this out to her.

“There can be other reasons,” Amy says slowly. “It could be that I’ve had more water. It could be a bad test. I’m just scared it's… what I’m scared it could be. The hormone levels going down,” she adds, seeing the confusion on Jake’s face. “The baby… you know.”

 It’s not the first time Jake's heard her worry about miscarriages. For the first two months of her pregnancy with Mac, he must have coaxed her down from panic attacks about them at least once per week, listening to her whisper the statistics that he couldn't imagine it helped to know. One in four. One in five known pregnancies. But they’d made it then, with the most perfect of results, and he doesn't have the slightest of doubts that they will again. He only wishes Amy could be sure of the same thing, so that she’d stop torturing herself with these endless what-ifs.

“What did the doctor say?” He asks, trying first to see if he can defeat the worries with logic.

“Just to call if it got worse. She didn't sound too worried, but…” Amy shakes her head, pulling at the sleeves of her knitted black sweater and picking absentmindedly at a loose thread. “I’m just scared.”

She doesn't have to tell him the last part. He can practically sense her anxiety, like a grey, vibrating force field, visible in her wide eyes and her lips, pressed tightly together. Slowly, so that she has time to stop him if she doesn't want to be touched, Jake puts his arms around her.

 It seems to be the right action this time. She rests her head against his chest, her shaky breaths warm against his neck, and he strokes her back until they're even again.

“You need to stop worrying so much,” he tells her. “Everything’s fine, Ames. You're only making it worse for yourself.”

She sniffles and looks up at him. “How do you know it is?”

 Because it's us. Because nothing bad can happen to us anymore. It's you and me, Ames.

 “I just do,” he says, confidently. “Baby’s perfect. Trust me.”

Amy nods, holding her hand low on her stomach. Yesterday she’d been moaning about how the hint of a little bump already at eight weeks was ridiculous, but now she's looking at it like she's scared it might disappear.

“That nine-week ultrasound couldn't come soon enough,” she mumbles.

“Five more days.”

“I know.”

“I can't believe Mac’s going to be a big brother”, Jake says, hoping to get her on other, more positive thoughts.

“That is crazy. He's going to love it, though.”

“He is.” He gives the baby monitor a longing look, staring at the image of Mac asleep on his tummy with his face turned toward the camera and his arms and legs sprawled like a sea star. “He’s going to be the best.”

“Yeah. You want to watch something before we go to bed? I promise I won't fall asleep.”

“Don't make promises you can't keep, Santiago.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles, but there’s a small smile on her lips, and Jake considers his self-imposed mission of distracting Amy from her anxiety successful for the night.

 To no surprise of his own, Jake is correct. Five minutes into the episode of Mad Men they’re watching, Amy has started yawning. After ten minutes, she rests her head in his lap, letting him play with her hair, and after fifteen minutes, she’s snoring slightly with her mouth open. It’s been the same thing every night since she got pregnant again, no matter how adamant she is that she’ll manage to stay awake. He doesn’t have the heart to tease her about it; balancing life as a Sergeant with parenting an energetic toddler is demanding at the best of times, and he knows the famous first-trimester exhaustion is wearing at her. Jake is glad she gets to rest.

 He wakes her up once the episode is over. She’s a little dazed, blushing when she realizes she’s slept her way through it, but looking relieved when he suggests they go to bed early. They crawl into bed instead, checking on Mac one last time before they do. Jake heats up the hot water bottle for Amy when she complains about weird back pains, and then they go to sleep.

 There's no hesitance when he crawls down closer to her, hugging her until he's sure her breathing is calm and he can let himself fall asleep, too. Everything's okay. He's sure of it.

 A few hours later, Jake changes his mind about whether Amy’s just being overly worried.

[wiypt-writes]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch4: You Don’t Know What You’ve Got Till It’s Gone Part 1 Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: Jake and Stella are both home for Christmas, and the annual New Year’s Party at the Jensen’s sees some unexpected guests in attendance…

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson.

A/N:  Another long updated, so split into 2 parts for you to read at your leisure!! Part 2 to follow shortly.  

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 3 Part 2

“Knowing what you don't want can often be more valuable than knowing what you do want.” Melchor Lim

"So when do I get to meet Evan then?" Rey asked as she handed Stella the plate she had just rinsed.

It was the day before New Year’s Eve and both sisters were in the kitchen finishing doing the lunch dishes while their mother watched TV in the living room. Stella loved Christmas, she always had, and this was the first one she was getting to spend at home for 3 years. But, the trade-off for being able to do so was having to put up with Rey constantly nagging about her home-based shopping business not doing quite as well in the last weeks as she expected and her constant struggle to get pregnant. And, honestly, Stella was a little bit tired of having to sooth her sister's same worries every time they got together. But now a new topic had been thrown into the equation- Evan. And Stel found herself wishing that they were still talking about ovulation cycles and how many times on average in a week a couple wanting to conceive should be ‘doing it’.

"Jesus, will you give it a break? That’s all I heard when I was home for Thanksgiving…and over Christmas dinner and every day since then!” Stella finally snapped “God, you and mom have talked about nothing else, even Jane was poking for more information when we were at the spa because you can’t keep your mouth shut."

True to her word Rey had spent Rick's money on a girls-only spa day which in all fairness Stella had gladly welcomed. She had relished all the treatments, each one with a more flamboyant name than the other, and as their day culminated they all were relaxing in the hot tub, enjoying the Mean Steam treatment while sipping Mimosas out of rather expensive looking glassware, Jane had started prying because Rey had told her about Evan. Luckily Janet, Jake's mum, had spotted Stella’s discomfort and had come to her rescue by scolding Jane for being a nosey bitch. 

"It’s Christmas. He’s spending it with his family in Boston." Stella shook her head at her sister.

"Boston’s only an hour or so drive Stel…"

"So what? We don’t get to see our families that often Rey." Stella replied, snatching a big round plate from Rey's hands.

"Whoaa, easy Stelly. Anyone would think you were trying to keep him away from us!"

"That’s exactly what I’m doing, yes." she rolled her eyes at her sister, who could clearly read the annoyance in her features and voice as when she spoke again her voice was a little whiney.

"Stel, don’t be like that."

Stella sighed. "Why are you so desperate to meet him anyway?"

"Hey, it’s not every day your baby sister gets herself a new man. At least not when she’s been dating her childhood love for what? Twenty years now? Come on, let me bask in the novelty, Stel."

"Fuck off Rey, I haven’t been dating Jensen for years and we were together nowhere near 20." Stella protested again, this time her voice a little louder.

"Felt like it to me." Rey shrugged.

Stella grit her teeth. Though her sister was exaggerating it was true she’d been with Jake for a long time all things considered, and doing the whole dating thing during the last 8 weeks had felt new and exciting in a sense. She was enjoying every part of getting to know a person while dating them, something she hadn't been able to experience with Jake as they already knew each other inside out when they had finally gotten together. And whilst that had been nice, and she wouldn’t change it for the world, with Evan everything was new and she had learnt what the cliche I want to know you better really meant during the dates which had following the first.

At the weekend following their trip to DC, Evan had taken her for another meal out, this one at a local Mexican place not far from HQ. Then the following weekend they’d visited a posh cocktail bar Stella had been eyeing up for a while which just wasn’t the Losers’ scene. There had been a trip to the cinema, an evening at the bowling alley, beers one Sunday afternoon whilst watching the Patriots’ game in a sports bar, a walk round one of the local parks with a burgers, grabbing a shake and ice cream on the way home….it was easy going, nice, no pressure… and then it had morphed naturally into something a little more serious.

The Friday before Thanksgiving Evan had invited her to his and he’d cooked, which in itself was a novelty as Jake could burn a pan of water. He’d whipped up a spectacular seafood linguini, followed with a simple baked vanilla cheesecake, and after 2 bottles of crisp white wine, one thing had led to another and they’d ended up making out on the couch before Evan had taken her into his room.

"Is he good?" Rey asked out of the blue as if sensing where Stella’s inner thoughts had led her.

"Oh fuck off Rey, do I ask you how Rick is in bed?"

"Better than Jake?" Rey insisted, ignoring her sister rhetorical question.

"You had to ask." Stella groaned.

Rey looked at her and Stella sighed, knowing she wasn’t getting off the hook. "Look, he’s good, ok, really good…but as for being better than Jake he’s…he’s just different."

As a matter of fact that first time they’d slept together on that Friday, despite Stella’s nerves, it had been fucking Earth shattering, and every time since hadn’t disappointed. Evan was a generous lover, giving before he took, making sure she was satisfied in every which way she could be. But Stella still found herself getting a little nervous beforehand. Evan was the one who instigated the sex, and whilst Stella was a more than willing participant, she was craving the day she finally felt happy enough to take charge a little.

"And that’s a problem?" Rey asked and Stella looked at her.

"What?" she frowned.

"Him being different to Jake?"

"No, I didn’t say that. It’s just…well, me and Jake know each other inside out, it’s bound to feel a little different, isn’t it?" 

Rey's eyes suddenly opened wide with realisation. "Oh my god…"

"What?" Stella asked, a little bit exasperated.

"You’ve never been with anyone else bar Jake, have you?"

Stella groaned but that was all the confirmation Rey needed to know she was right. Her sister had hit the spot but she was fucked if she was getting into that. "Look, enough about me. Any progress on baby Fitzpatrick?"

Rey sighed, not fazed in the slightest but Stella’s forced change of topic had redirected the conversation to one of her major concerns and Stella knew she wouldn’t be able to resist talking about it. "No, not yet. I don’t know what we’re doing wrong? We stick to the schedule, I’ve got an ovulation tracker…"

"God Rey, you talk like you’re baking a cake or putting an Ikea cupboard together, that’s what’s wrong." Stella scoffed.

"Science doesn’t lie Stelly." Rey said, as if lecturing an ignorant little girl.

"Science says it’s a matter of PH." she shrugged, a small grin playing in the corner of her mouth.

Rey rolled her eyes. "You know Jake made up that shit, right? I googled it."

"No… really?"

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Stella." Rey squinted her eyes at Stella who grinned in response. "And speaking of low forms of wit, did you know Jensen’s new bimbo is coming to the New Year's party tomorrow?"

"Oh, is she?" Stella asked, trying to hide her surprise as much as possible, knowing that she was failing miserably. The news had shocked her a little, not that it was her business, but still.

"Careful Stel, is that a trace of disappointment I sense in your voice?" 

"No, I just hadn’t realised how serious they were. Mind you, I haven’t seen him for a few weeks. Work has been busy and we don’t hang out much now." she tried to explain herself without sounding scorned or bitter.

"You sure?" Rey asked, examining her sister's expression as she finished loading the dishwasher.

"Yeah, it’s just…well, you’ll know when you meet her."

And boy, would they all know. Because, Britney was, how to put it? Something else.

Stella sat at the table opposite Pooch and Cougar in the bar, sipping at her beer. It was the day before they were all due to head home for Thanksgiving so they had decided to head out for a few drinks, a way to celebrate with one another.

"So where’s Evan?" Pooch asked before taking a sip from his beer bottle.

"Oh, out of town on some intel gathering trip with the Canadian Ministry of Defence or something…he couldn’t say much. I won’t see him now until I’m back from New Hampshire." Stella offered.

"It still going well or..." Pooch pried a little bit more and Stella flushed a little. 

"Yeah, he’s nice…"

Cougar grinned and tipped his hat at her and she snorted, setting her bottle down. "He must be, we ain't seen you out of work for the last few weeks, he must be keeping you busy."

Stella laughed and shrugged as Cougar chuckled and then Pooch let out a groan. Stella frowned, and then turned in the direction he was looking at only to see Jensen working his way over with the brunette she’d seen him with a while back hanging on his arm.

"It's Britney, bitch." Cougar chimed in. 

"Wait, her name is Britney?" Pooch asked him and Cougar nodded. "How do you know?"

"Bumped into them at the condo one night." Cougar explained and Pooch's mouth fell open.

Stella frowned and turned around again, locking eyes with Jensen and saw him swallow, like he always did when nervous or apprehensive. But as she watched, he took a deep breath and continued his path over to their table.

"No Evan?" he asked once he reached them, looking at Stella, not even bothering in greeting the rest first.

"No. He’s away." Stella answered, looking back at him but gripping her beer bottle for dear life.

"Who’s Evan, another Loser?" the brunette asked then. Her high-pitched voice making Pooch and Cougar scrunch their noses as they shared a glance.

Stella glared at Jake as a grin spread across his face, daring him to say something and Jake's grin slipped under her glare as he turned to Britney.

"No, Evan is Stella’s…actually..." he looked at Stella, "What is he? Boyfriend? Fuck buddy? Late night booty call?"

"All of the above." Stella answered ignoring Jake's jab and necking her beer as both Cougar and Pooch sniggered and she fought to keep the smile from spreading on her lips at the look on Jensen’s face which was somewhere between disgust and disappointment. Instead she stood up and leaned towards Britney. "I’ll introduce myself seeing as he isn’t going to. I’m Stella."

"Hi, I’m Britney." she said and then to Stella’s horror she pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek. Stella remained stiff, merely concentrating on trying not to choke on the heady combination of Britney’s floral perfume and hairspray from the huge bouffant ponytail she was sporting. 

"So does your boyfriend work with these guys or…?" Britney's voice pierced the air again.

"No, I work with them." Stella explained as she took her seat back.

"What? You’re in the army too? Wow, Girl Power!" Britney exclaimed before giggling.

"Yeah…" Stella said as she turned back to Pooch and Cougar, mouthing WHAT THE FUCK?

"Does anyone want a drink or…?" Jake asked, trying to divert the weird situation Britney had just created.

Stella turned back to him and stood up again. "It’s ok JJ, I’ll get them, it’s my round."

"I’ll give you a hand." Jake offered himself, motioning to follow her.

Stella smiled as she put a hand on Jake's chest to stop him. "No, Cougs can. You stay here with your girlfriend." she ordered more than suggested, making sure her eyes locked with his when she uttered the word.

At her use of the term, Britney giggled and grabbed Jensen’s arm. Jake looked at her, and Stella could see the irritation flash across his face and she smirked before she asked what Britney wanted to drink. The girl requested a Malibu and coke, the worst combination Stella could think of if you asked her but then again Britney's choice of outfit and her likeness for glittery accessories spoke of her taste for itself, and then Stella looked at Jake.

"Usual?"

"Yeah, thanks Stel." he said, a little quieter this time.

Cougar dropped an arm round Stella’s shoulder and as they made their way to the bar, Stella could feel Jake’s eyes burning into her back. Point, set, match to Arty…

"From what I heard it was a total accident she got invited. She was on the phone to him on Christmas Eve when Jane was talking to Janet in the background. Apparently she caught the words New Year’s Eve and Party. Jensen, thinking she wouldn’t be able to get a flight at such late notice, told her she was welcome to come." Rey explained with a grin. "Anyway, next thing she’s messaging him, saying she’d managed to get a cancellation seat so she’s flying in on the morning of the party. Apparently he wasn’t best pleased." Rey snorted. "Jane doesn’t think he’s all that into her, but…"

Stella only shrugged. "Who knows what goes on in his head, I don’t anymore that’s for sure." she commented before her sister could ask more, but she couldn’t prevent herself from letting out a deep sigh. Whilst she had nothing against Britney, and despite the fact she was now with Evan, the idea of being at a party with Jake and his new girlfriend wasn’t filling her full of joy.

The rest of the day was spent in relative calm. Richard came back from wherever he’d been following lunch, Stella hadn’t been paying attention when Rey told her, and the 4 of them settled down for a rather furious game of monopoly which Richard won, Stella passing comment on how it would have been ridiculous if he hadn’t, given he was a finance manager.

It was just after dinner when Stella’s phone went off. It was a message from Evan telling her to get to her laptop so he could video call over the CIA network. So she quickly set it up in the kitchen and soon after it pinged and she accepted the call, smiling as his handsome face filled the screen. “Hey Pumpkin.” He smiled and Stella laughed at his ridiculous nickname for her, chosen due to the way they’d met.

“Hey!” she beamed back “How’s your day been?”

“Not bad.” He shrugged “Usual family bullshit at play. You?”

“Same.” She said, sitting back in her chair “I’ve eaten way too much.”

He chuckled “That’s what Christmas is for darlin’. Way too much home cooking, enough alcohol to fill a pool, and a side of chocolate, pie and cake for good measure.”

“Imma turn into a Christmas cake if I eat any more of it Ev.” Stella smiled, reaching for her wine. She took a sip and then looked at the glass “And probably a bottle of pinot too.”

“Well I don’t have a problem with that.” He smiled, waving his own bottle of beer at her “Food and drink, win win.”

Stella laughed and then the door to the kitchen opened and Rey walked in. She made her way towards the fridge and then paused, turning to Stella. 

“Oh my God is that him?” she practically screeched and moved, draping herself over Stella’s shoulders to get a look at the screen.

“Rey, piss off.” Stella grumbled, trying to push her away. Rey took the hint and stepped back a bit as Evan looked at her, smiling, before he glanced back at Stel.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

“Oh, hi, I’m Rey.” Rey spoke from behind Stella who rolled her eyes “Stella’s favourite sister.”

“You’re my only sister.” Stella shot back as Evan chuckled.

“Nice to meet you Rey, or see you in this case.” He smiled that damned smile that could melt a fucking polar ice cap and Stella heard Rey’s little gasp. She sighed and turned to her sister.

“Ok, seriously, get what you came for and piss off.”

Rey held her hands up and went to the fridge, pulling out 2 bottles of beer and a can of coke. She headed to the door and stopped, looking at Stella, her mouth open.“O.M.G He is a snack!” she mouthed and Stella rolled her eyes again before Rey left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Sorry about that.” Stella turned back to the screen and Evan laughed.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s a mad house here too.” He leaned back in his chair. “She seems nice.”

“She has her moments.” Stella smiled, “Anyway, enough about her, tell me what you’ve been up to. We haven’t spoken in a few days.”

“Yeah, sorry I was gonna call last night but it’s been manic. My sister and her 3 kids have been over and Uncle Evan was the star attraction. And by attraction I mean climbing frame.”

“Lucky kids…” Stella quipped, arching her eyebrow “I’d climb you too if I was there.”

Evan grinned at her comment and Stella found herself slightly surprised. The ten days or so they’d been apart had made her needy and she'd be damned if someone else could pull off a simple white t-shirt like he could, and that fucking chain he wore which was hanging out of the collar was doing things to her.

“Well a few more days and I’m all yours to climb Pumpkin” Evan smiled “So, any plans for New Year’s Eve tomorrow?”

“We’re going to a party at the Jensens’. They’ve thrown one for as long as I can remember so it’ll be nice to see them again, catch up. What about you?”

“Oh I don’t know yet.” Evan ran a hand over his beard, tugging gently on the whiskers which adorned his chin “I may stay here with the family or go out with some friends. I’ll make my mind up as I go.” He paused for a little before his hand dropped from his face “Will Jake be there?”

“It’s his parents throwing the party.” Stella arched an eyebrow “Of course he will.”

“Right…” Evan mused and Stella narrowed her eyes.

“Are you jealous, Evan?”

“No, I just…” he groaned “Ok, yeah, yeah I am. The thought of you bringing in the New Year with your ex and not me kinda sucks Stella.”

“I know.” She sighed “But I wouldn’t worry too much. Apparently his new girlfriend is coming.” She took a deep breath before she smiled a little sadly “I really wish you were here Ev.”

And she did, not least because she actually did miss him, but the thought of Jensen eating face with the bimbo whilst she was simply there alone wasn’t something she was relishing.

“I promise I’ll make up for it when we get back to base.” Evan said gently. 

“You better.”

He chuckled “Being apart from me really suits you sweetheart.”

“What can I say, you spoil me.” She shrugged.

“And you haven’t even had your Christmas present yet.” He grinned.

“I can’t wait to unwrap it.” Stella smirked “And the present.”

“Fuck, Stella…you’re killing me!” he whined. She laughed and at that point a voice sounded in the background and Evan hastily looked over his shoulder before he called that he’d be there in a second. “That’s my ma…I gotta go.”

“Yeah, It’s probably time I bust Rey for eavesdropping behind the kitchen door.” Stella rolled her eyes and Evan laughed.

“Ok, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, talk then. Night handsome.”

“Night gorgeous.”

With that Stella cut the call and shut the laptop. She stood up, crept across the room and yanked open the kitchen door. Rey immediately straightened up and jumped back. “I was erm…gonna…” she points to the kitchen.

“Spy on us?” Stella folded her arms.

“I wasn’t…I just….ok, I was spying.” Rey shrugged “Because, fuck Stel, where did you get a man like that?”

“The CIA.” Stella said simply pushing past her and heading into the living room where Jules and Richard were watching TV, Stella following her chunnering about Evan.

“Leave your sister alone, Aubrey.” Julie looked up.

“I’m heading up to bed ma.” Stella smiled, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Julie nodded but Aubrey wasn’t listening, she was still talking about Evan.

“God mom, you should have seen him. And that smile…”

“Erm…” Richard waved “I’m right here.”

“Yeah, isn’t it about time you and your husband went back to your own house?” Stella asked. 

“Yeah, yeah…” Rey waved her hand, “We were going anyway.”

“Good riddance.” Stella mumbled.

Rey spun and pointed at her “I heard that. Don’t forget we have a date to go shopping tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.” Stella said sarcastically and with that she bid them goodnight and headed to her room.

**** “You heading out?” Jane looked at Jensen as he groaned, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Yeah I gotta go get Britney.”

“Thought you said she wasn’t arriving until tomorrow?” Jane frowned

“So did I, turns out she messed up with the date on the flights..”

“What?” Jane looked at him.

“Don’t ask me, she’s a dumbass.” Jensen rolled his eyes.

“Woooow…” Jane looked at him as he grabbed his dad’s car keys from the side in the hall “That is love, right there.”

“Fuck off Jane.” Jensen raised his middle finger over his shoulder as he grabbed his jacket of the peg. He then paused and turned to his sister, shaking his head. “Seriously, though…when she told me what she’d done, do you know what she said? The mouse was sticky, Jensen and I booked a day early by mistake” he shook his head.

“Hang on.” Jane held her hand up “If she really had messed up with the dates then she would have been on a morning flight still, just on a different day.” Jake looked at his sister, frowning a little and Jane snorted “If you ask me, I don’t think she’s as dumb as you’re making her out to be.”

“Well I wasn’t asking you.” Jake shot back as he shrugged his jacket on and headed out of the door.

At that point Gracie wandered in from the kitchen, dressed in her pyjamas, followed by John.

“Who's dumb mommy?” she asked with a yawn as Jane held her coat out to pop on ready for the drive home.

“Your Uncle Jake, sweetie.” Jane said.

John chuckled “He told you about Britney arriving earlier than anticipated then?”

Jane snorted “Yeah, and considering she’s supposed to be his girlfriend..." she framed the words with quotation marks on one hand “He doesn’t seem too pleased about it.”

“Yeah well, I think we all know the reason for that.” Janet joined them in the hallway, not even bothering to hide her disdain for the entire situation and John snorted. He leaned over and gave Gracie a kiss “Night Squirt.”

“Night grandpa.” She smiled before she took a kiss off Janet too. “Night Nanny” and then she looked at Jane “When’s daddy back from the station?”

“When his shift finishes baby, now come on, let’s get you home.” Jane smiled before she looked at her parents “See you tomorrow.”

Jane and Gracie exited the house, making their way to her car. Jane strapped Gracie into the seat and then moved to climb into the driver’s side and paused, spotting her dad’s car was still there behind hers. Jake was sat in the drivers’ seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked pissed, really pissed, but before she had the chance to go and speak to him, he’d set off.

“Fucking idiot.” Jane grumbled to herself, and with a shake of her head she climbed in her own car and headed home. 

**** The following morning Stella woke up in a better mood, talking with Evan the previous night had calmed her restlessness and though she missed him she was determined to make the most of the New Year's party that very same night. It was just a few days more and they could be together and she could effectively unwrap her gift. 

She was getting ready to go shopping, Rey probably on her way to pick her up, when the doorbell rang and she cursed her sister for being earlier than expected for once in her life as she barrelled down the stairs.

"Honey, can you get that? I’m busy." her mother shouted from the kitchen.

"Sure mom." she replied just as she realised Rey wouldn't be using the front door and definitely wouldn't use the doorbell. With a frown she opened it and blinked in disbelief, her mouth falling open. Evan was stood there, wearing a warm, woollen coat, scarf and a huge, million dollar smile. The bastard!

 “Surprise Pumpkin…” he chanted, opening his arms for her.

Stella gasped and gave him a quick hug. “Oh my God…Ev, what are you doing here?”

"Well I got nothing on, you were only an hour away and after you saying you wished I was here…" he shrugged, “figured I could drive up to see my best girl."

Stella blinked again, before she smiled shyly. "You drove just to see me? That’s…wait… how did you know where I live?"

Evan laughed heartily. "I work in intelligence gathering for the CIA, wasn’t that hard."

"Ok, that’s kinda creepy, stalker behaviour." she mused.

He laughed again and winked an eye at her. "Perks of the job, sweetheart."

That damned side smile of his made Stella pause for a second before she giggled and jumped at him. He caught her and laughed as her legs wrapped around his waist. “I’m so glad you’re here, Ev..."

He smiled at her fondly before he kissed her tenderly, his cold nose bumping against hers. “Me too, but are you gonna let me in coz it's freezing out here…”

“Yes, let the man in Stella.” Mrs Stevenson spoke from behind her daughter, making Stella drop to her feet and turn to face her. Her mother smiled at her and then to Evan. “Hi Evan, nice to meet you finally.”

"It’s a pleasure Mrs Stevenson." he greeted the woman back, flashing his smile.

Stella looked at her mom as she pulled away to let Evan in the house, if she was surprised by her daughter's boyfriend showing up at her door she was hiding it very well, and then it dawned on her. "Oh my God, you knew he was coming, didn’t you?"

Evan shut the door behind him and looked at her mom, then to Stella and chuckled. "Clever girl."

"He may or may not have called me earlier this morning to check if you were doing anything and I may or may not have suggested he spends New Year with us." Mrs Stevenson conceded.

Stel gasped and looked back at Evan with hopeful eyes. "Are you?"

"Well, I was gonna see if you wanted to come back to Boston with me but your mom said you wouldn’t want to miss the party as you’ve not made one for 3 years so, choice is yours." he shrugged, flashing a dazzling half smile.

Stella bit her lip, Boston sounded good, the fact that he had come all the way to see her and was willing to take her back to his family's place sounded even better, but she was really looking forward to that night's party. She missed Mr and Mrs Jensen, and also Jane and, though the prospect of Britney being there wasn't very appealing, she thought that maybe with Evan there she could have a really nice time. Thus, after pondering the pros and cons she looked at him. "I’d like to go to the party if you wanna?"

 "Then party it is." Evan grinned.

"So this means I get to receive the New Year with you!" she grinned back at him.

"Yeah, guess it does." he said with a smile, one that was also loaded with the promise of a very good start to the year, if you knew how to read it that is.

And then the voice of Julie pulled them away from gazing into each other's eyes "I was gonna get the spare room ready but figured you two would want to share so I’ve left fresh towels on your bed Stella." 

"Mommmm." Stella protested, mortified.

"I’m happy to sleep wherever I’m told." Evan, ever the charmer, intervened.

But whatever Stella's mom was going to reply it was cut off as the kitchen door opened signalling Rey’s entrance.

"Stel, you ready? I thought we could head down to…" Rey began to say before she stopped dead as she entered the hallway and spotted a masculine presence, her mouth dropping open. "Fuck me!"

"Aubrey!!" her mum chastised her.

Rey blinked and looked at her mum and then at Stel. "He’s here?!"

Evan chuckled at Rey's reaction to him being there. "I am. Nice to meet you Rey."

"Erm, hi…" she managed to say before looking at Stella, smirking a little. "I take it you want a rain check on our shopping trip?"

Evan frowned at Rey's comment and gave her an apologetic look. "Oh, sorry, did I step all over your plans?"

"No, it’s fine. You can come, we were only going into town to pass the time, grab some lunch." Stella assured him. But Rey wasn't that willing to keep their plans as it were.

"No way am I playing 3rd wheel…you two go, I can do…stuff."

"You sure?" Evan asked Rey. "Coz I can just..." he said as he nodded towards what he supposed to be the door that led into some sort of den, but she didn't let him finish.

"No, don’t worry. It’s ok. You two will want to spend some time together, you didn’t come here to sit in our living room." 

"Whose living room?" Mrs Stevenson asked, amused.

 Aubrey ignored her mum and mused. "Would be a nice addition to it though…"

"Ok so I’m gonna bring my bag in from the car, be right back Pumpkin." Evan said, blushing a little at Rey’s complement before giving Stella a quick kiss on her cheek and heading out the door.

The three women watched him go appreciatively, until Rey shook her head and asked "Wait is he staying? And Pumpkin? What?"

Julie grinned as Stella groaned. She knew that one wasn’t going away any time soon.

****

Chapter 4 Part 2

[a-lil-perspective]

The Bad Batch X Sick Reader

A/N: This is my very first posted fic on here, I hope you all enjoy. Please feel free to provide feedback, it’s much appreciated!

Although you didn’t bolt upright in dramatic fashion upon returning from a deep slumber, you nevertheless awoke with a start, eyes fluttering open and feeling vaguely aware of the dampness of a cold sweat permeating your hairline. Disorientation takes over as you lie rigid in the bed, only being able to process the physicality of how utterly terrible you feel- you didn’t think you could move in such quick succession if you tried- Every joint feels stiff and your muscles are resistant to comply, attempting to encompass and entrap your body deep within the mattress, refusing to give way to your motions.

Swiping at the remnants of sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand, you become uncomfortably conscious of the fact that your face is burning up, despite the rest of your extremities freezing in stark contrast.

This was no good. Your heart rate quickens as panic rises in your throat, gripping tightly as your breath hitches. Your mind begins racing, conjuring up every angle of the current situation in an attempt to make some light of it. You eventually force the lump down, giving into the overwhelming realization.

You were sick. Big time.

Fearing you looked as bad as you felt, you promptly thrust yourself out of bed with great effort and a groan of pain before stumbling into the ‘fresher, examining your entirety and fervently hoping your initial concerns were just an exaggerated oversight.

One glance at your trembling, pale, and achy form confirmed your worst suspicions.

“Kriff,” is all you can manage, further worsening matters by the realization of your curse rolling out only as a mere croak. Gritting your teeth, you roll your puffy, exhausted eyes and shake your head in disappointment. Great. Sick AND losing your voice. This can’t get much worse, you think to yourself bitterly as you level your gaze back at the mirror.

With great effort you manage you pull yourself together enough to make it out to the common area of the ship, bracing yourself to face the others. You remain self-conscious of your movements, attempting to exert your stance, stride, and demeanor with purpose as to not draw unwanted attention to yourself and your condition.

Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair- they were no fools. Hunter especially, what with his enhanced senses and innate perceptions, will pick up on your illness lighting fast.

Realizing you’re up and starting your day much later than usual, it’s no surprise the guys are already up and in their respective places- although Hunter is nowhere to be found upon entering the common room.

Tech, lounging in a seat with his nose buried in his datapad, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, looks up to greet you first, his expression turning into that of perplexity.

“Good morning, Y/N. I am surprised you slept in. Stayed up late last night, I presume?”

You clear your throat in an attempt to forcefully exact your normal, chipper level of voice. “Hey, Tech. Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, returning sights to his work, facial expression evident that his curiosity is momentarily satiated. It’s clear that he didn’t pick up on the fact that your voice, despite your best attempts, came out in just above a whisper. For that, you were thankful.

You head over to the cupboard to pour yourself some caf, hoping a warm drink would do you some good.

“You look like hell.”

A terse statement from the jaded appearance of Crosshair standing in the corner, arms folded across his chest and eyes boring into you, caused you to jump and your already trembling fingers to drop the empty cup you had grabbed, clanging to the ground and reverberating with purpose as if some cruelly overly-dramatized joke.

Feeling frustration bubble to the surface, you sigh deeply and level a thinly-veiled unimpressed look in his direction, unable to muster the willpower to put up with his attitude today.

“Thanks.” You sneer. Before you even manage a step over in his direction to where the cup had predictably rolled, Crosshair moved in the blink of an eye to pick it up and appear alongside you, placing the now unusable cup to the side and in one solid motion, reaching up to grab a new one down for you.

You look at Crosshair quizzically. Out of all the other members on this ship with whom you’ve fallen into methodical and sequential step with, you two have still got some steps to learn to your dance, with you having never quite fully figured out the enigmatic sniper and all of his expressive layers.

“Thanks,” you mutter in just above a strained whisper, though pushing more sincerity and less of a sarcastic quip this time. Turning to pour the caf, you’re taken by mild surprise when Crosshair engages with you once again.

“You sick or somethin’?” His eyes narrow questioningly as he searches your face before reaching out tentatively to thumb at your cheek, gently cupping it.

You’re taken aback by the touch, distantly aware of your heart rate quickening it’s pace. You avoid his questioning gaze, instead focusing on the sensation of his cool fingertips meeting the increasing warmth radiating from your skin with ease. Despite the fact that the action further solidifies your current state of being fever-ridden. It’s oddly comforting.

You hesitantly turn away, but not before slightly leaning into his touch.

“I’m fine,” you manage weakly.

Crosshair’s not convinced in the slightest. But before he can voice his trepidation, Wrecker comes bounding into the room, his voice boisterous and projecting. Not exactly the sound volume you want to hear right now but, you can’t help but smile inwardly at his puppy-like energy. He means well.

“Hiya, Y/N!” Wrecker greets you with a less-than-gentle pat on the back, making you almost spill the cup of hot caf you had laced your cold fingers around just moments before.

You weren’t sure what facial expression you were wearing, but Wrecker falters nonetheless. “You okay?” He asks, voice coated with concern.

Kriff. You wish everyone would kindly stop asking you that. You just wanted to enjoy your kriffing cup of caf and TRY to recoup before your briefing in two standard rotations, with which you’d been tasked with compiling numerous works together in preparation for a large-scale mission forthcoming. The fact that you were in this state, so close to the arrival date of the meeting and your work not AT ALL in a state of completion, was seriously stressing.

“Yeah, Wrecker.” You once again smile up at the gentle giant looming over you. “All good.”

As if on cue in an effort for the universe to illuminate your lying streak with full bravado, your body is racked with increasing pain and you tremble, feeling a shiver go up your spine.

Nobody gets a word out before Hunter comes around. He looks as if he’s just awoke, blinking rapidly and rubbing at his temples. You consider him for a moment then, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks.

OH.

THAT’S why he hasn’t been around this morning.

Guilt suddenly pangs at your chest as you revert back to yesterday, recalling how Hunter had to turn in after the last mission due to a headache caused from a sensory overload. He had explained to you how it plagued him from time to time, and reassured you not to worry, but you couldn’t forget how much pain he was in- eyes glazed over, body doubled over, beads of sweat enveloping his face. It made you feel helpless.

Helpless, and embarrassed at your perceived selfishness.

Here you were, out here dropping cups from the cupboard and making general racket, all the while wallowing in your own self-misery today- having not even previously processed how Hunter could’ve been in the other room feeling just as miserable.

Now he stood before you, addressing everyone about something, something you couldn’t even hear over the sound of your own thoughts simultaneously drowning everyone out.

“-Feels like I heard commotion or somethin’ out here, just thought I’d check on y’all.” He grinned in amusement, feeling a spark of playfulness. “Wanted to make sure Y/N wasn’t acting up in here.”

Everyone cracked a grin but you, who all but blurted out your guilty admission, much to your chagrin. It’s your own guilt, coupled with illness, sporadic emotions due to the fact, and lack of coherent thoughts nagging at you all at once.

“Hunter... I’m sorry,” you croaked. All eyes were on you, each differing degrees of quizzical expressions.

“I-I’m the one who dropped the cup and made the racket. I didn’t consider that you could’ve still been feeling unwell. Sorry.” You sheepishly confess, before spilling into a coughing fit.

Kriff. Shouldn’t have said so much in one setting. Way to make your condition obvious.

Hunter, who holds the most mixed expressions you’ve ever seen- amusement, discomfort, confusion, laced with compassion- comes striding over to you.

“Y/N. You’re rambling. That’s not like you,” he chuckles. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me, okay? You look like you could use a lot more help right now.” He reaches a hand to splay out across your forehead to check for a fever that you both already know is becoming, to which you gracefully duck and sidestep him, all while gripping your cup of caf.

Crosshair chuckles at your motion and Hunter just looks to you. He’s diving fully into empathetic, sensible parent mode- you can tell- as he sighs exasperatedly at your innate ability to prove difficult.

“Y/N... ya gotta let us figure out what’s going on with you, so that we can get ya well.”

You look down into the cup, weighing those words and considering what to say next. You’ve never been one to freely and openly allow someone to care for you, nor have you fully possessed the ability to convey your feelings in a refined way- especially when you’re unwell. Your tenacity, though admirable, doesn’t always make it easy for someone else to know how to help you. Likewise, deeming it challenging for you to even know how one can help you. It’s a tedious cycle that plagues you when you immerse yourself too deep.

“I... I think I’m just tired.” you manage weakly. “Besides,” you croak, “I’ve got to get all my works completed before the briefing.”

With that, collective silence falls as you stumble back towards your room, thankful for the closed doors that keep your vulnerabilities and current physical ailments tightly locked away.

You were thankful for the brief quiet time, and managed to clear your head just enough to work for what you estimated to be about a half hour that came and went. With your work sprawled on the floor, you alongside it, the caf mug well empty now and off to the side, there’s a wheezing that now accompanies your breaths and, it worries you. As you lie flat on the floor, fear swells in your chest and you wish you had the courage to call the guys in here to you. You wish you weren’t so conflicted.

As you finish that train of thought, there’s a loud bang on the door.

“Y/N?” It’s Wrecker, the realization coming unsurprisingly to you judging by the obvious choice gesture of greeting at the door.

“Come in,” you strain your voice to project.

In the doorframe you find all four members of The Bad Batch, all weighing mixed levels of concern at your small, sick frame curled up on the floor. They all collectively rush in, though in a way as to not alarm you. In the moment, you’re thankful for their company.

“Hey,” Hunter soothes as he kneels down beside you, running a hand through your hair. “You’re gonna be okay. Let us take care of you, like you take care of us.”

You nod weakly, coming to your senses and surrendering all complaining rights in that moment.

Hunter orders Tech to go and grab the small medkit kept on the ship, though they’re all well aware of the fact that it’s not on par with medical facilities. Being several parsecs away from the nearest, they want to at least get the ball rolling here onboard for now. They decide not to move you until you’re stable.

Wrecker comes behind you and sits down, straddling you back into his lap and letting you use him as a body pillow. He doesn’t mind, he loves your small frame in contrast with his own, much larger one. You love how warm he is in the moment. It’s a mutual feeling between you two of safety and security.

Tech promptly returns with the medkit and although Crosshair is the only one appearing rigid and most hesitant to be hands-on with you, The Bad Batch get to work, communicating amongst themselves with the same efficiency they project amidst all things. They give you some anti-inflammatories to take the edge off, and you vaguely remember a stimulant- an overwhelmingly pleasant aroma of something very herbal-like. You initially thought it to be reminiscent of Bacta, but it wasn’t.. What was that?

Almost instantly, your chest felt clear. Your breathing became even and despite still being in pain, you were no longer wheezing. You attempted to make a mental note to ask later what the miracle worker was, but you weren’t able to give it much more thought as you felt your eyes suddenly became heavy-lidded, succumbing to rest you know your body desperately needed.

You awoke much later, feeling immensely better, and no longer needing the medical facility services that were finally available to you. Four pairs of eyes were studying you and, upon seeing you wake, the expressions attached collectively sighed in relief. You couldn’t help but feel something soft swirl in your chest upon lovingly fixing your gaze on the crew of the Havoc Marauder. They truly were something special. They knew you the best, and were able to have the most profound effect on you, no matter how adamantly complex you could be. They deeply cared for you. It’s moments like these, you realize how intertwined and inseparable you are.

You hope it always stays that way.

[chappedandfadedvds]

Nov 18th, Wednesday 14:48

„But as I said earlier, it may not even be effective. The preferred outcome would let us obtain a couple weeks additionally for you and your family. Yet to be clear, chances are, at best, slim.“

Dr. Henin sat across, the thick case file of his mother opened in the middle between them on the desk. Showing charts and spreadsheets that Jens couldn’t possibly decipher even if he wanted to. So he stared in the general direction of the papers instead, holding his mothers hand in his lap, as she had reached for him not long ago.

„I would also like to add, as opposed to summer given the regulations, you would need to stay at the hospital for the whole 2 weeks I’d set for treatment and tests. We can not risk you having to commune between home and here every day. Not with the requiering therapy in work.“

His mom was watching him, when Jens looked over, trying to see what she would want for herself. He’d accept it anyway, no matter what would come.

No one was speaking for a long moment, as she considered her desicion. Til Dr. Henin’s voice once more filled the room. Jens was quite certain that in the last hour, his mom and him, mostly him, barely had managed to get a single word out. They were both sunken deep into concentrating on what the woman infront of them tried to convey to the two unlucky souls.

„You won’t have to decide now. But I’d need your plans on how to advance from here on monday. Latest. I did notice a very faint yellowish colouring of your skin when you entered, Mrs. Stoffels. Nothing yet strongly concerning, but an foreboding sign nonetheless. And you’ve lost a lot of weight since september. If we are very lucky, we can halt it for a little while longer.“

Jens and his mom were still captivated in their shared gaze as they nodded acknowledging the vague suggestion swinging in Dr. Henin’s words. Jens wasn’t sure if they communicated anything by watching each other, but it did spent them some solace. At least they weren’t alone with the knowledge.

„I’ll call you then on monday?“ His mother asked, turning away from him, to look back at Dr. Henin, so Jens followed her lead. What else was he supposed to do? He was just here to listen, to hopefully get the slightest grip on an idea of the current state and it’s outcome. Though he wished, he wouldn’t have to be here at times.

„That’s fine by me. Still my advise would be to call as soon as you can, any day earlier gives us perhaps a bit more ground to work on. I’m here over the weekend. I’m so sorry, I can’t do more for you.“ The woman said, as she specifically turned towards Jens. He was unable to speak, like he had almost been for an hour, leaving the two actual adults in the room to talk themselves.

„If you are able to, make sure your mother eats something at least, as always preferably no red meats, and instead soft foods should help. You know the drill, I’m afraid.“

„Of course.“ Jens found himself confirm, as Dr. Henin tried for an encouraging smile. That fell completely flat, when Jens wasn’t able to bring himself to feel and look anything else than sad and tired. He barely had slept last night after having come home. His mind running circles on what had happened between Robbe and him. He surprisingly hadn’t cried or panicked again, which was a plus in his books. He just hadn’t slept over more than an hour.

„Good. Never forget though, that not just your mother should eat and rest, but you as well.“

Maybe his exhaustion wasn’t as subtle as he had thought it to be, so he nodded again and helped his mother to get into her coat, after all three of them had stood up.

„I’ll see you soon then.“ Dr. Henin told them, walking around the table to see them out. She was looking sympathically at the couple infront of her. Pity. Jens wasn’t sure if he wanted it in order to feel his and his mother’s awful situation recognised, or instead rather punch it out of her face. True, it was a bit agressive and definitely an exaggeration on his side. The feeling nonetheless lingered there. He felt almost helpless to his state.

„Thank you so much, doctor. As always.“ His mother’s voice was weak, Jens couldn’t tell if it came with her emotional or physical exhaustion. Perhaps both. So he placed his hand on her lower back for support. And just in case to have a better chance of keeping her from falling.

„Yes, thank you. Have a good day.“ Jens bid his good bye, stirring his mother around to lead her down the empty hospital’s hallway. Only occasionally did they pass a stranger or nurse. It felt oddly silent, their steps echoing eerily, as the white walls encompassed them.

„You too.“ The voice behind reached them just before they left the wing and then the thud of a closing door followed not long after.

„Damn. I could go for a smoke. Will you join this old mother of yours?“ It was the first time today that for some miraculous reason his face responded with a smirk, as he listened to her sudden suggestion.

„The best thing I’ve heard all day.“ He responded excitedly, hearing her snorting next to him. Obviously the bar wasn’t set very high to be met.

The heavieness of the hospital fell away as they stepped out of the building and onto the parking lot. He took a deep breath, ready to get into the car and drive them home. He knew that his mother probably carried a joint with her. But driving a car while high and only having his licence for a couple of month seemed a bit much reckless and stupid. And illegal. So they would have to be patient for a little while longer.

Lotte was being picked up with Olivia by Lars aynway. Thank god. So she wouldn’t be home til after dinner. That left enough hours for Jens and his mother to lie on the sofa, watch some boring show and smoke til they would be englufed in a pleasent feeling of numbing lightness.

Sounded like heaven to him, if one would ask.

He also had been excused for all classes by his teachers. Which meant no consequences for laziness on his end today, and further, no other obligations. Laundry was done, Leftovers from yesterday waiting in the fridge.

Fuck yes. __ __ __

tagged: @odi-et-amo85, @tayspots

[futurewriter2000]

You’re a mean one - pt. 4

A/N: Okay so I don’t know how to make things with Abernathy but I am having some pretty good ideas about it so your choice if you want more Abernathy in or do you want me to make it less complicated. 

XX

It was like that. It was always like that. 

You just thought that since that conversation the two of you had grown you closer together or at least created a bond- friendship? Trust? 

But how else could you describe your life if it wasn’t disappointing? 

Your hair was a mess, meanwhile yesterday it was perfect. You actually put effort into your appearance for him. You caught feelings for him and he just- he just didn’t see.

Worst of all. He ignored you. 

He talked with his friends. He walked and then this girl appeared out of nowhere and put her hand on his back, rubbing it as if she was his. She wasn’t. She’s not for him. He’s better than her in every sense of the world. 

And you’re not for him either. You know that or else he wouldn’t ignore you the way he does- and the two of you are just too different. From two completely diverse worlds. And though you knew that, though you knew that you and he are never meant to be, you were still hurt. Hurt more than you should have been. 

So yesterday you slept all day. You slept and you dreamt wonderful things but then you woke up in the middle of the night and realized that those wonderful things will never take place in your life. That those are dreams and nothing else. And this is a reality. 

So you got up at 00.26 and you went to the bathroom, took off your makeup and went back to your bed. You tucked yourself and looked at the clock just before you went back to sleep at 01.08. 

You didn’t go to school. You didn’t want to see him even though he was everything you thought about. But still, you chose to stay in bed and sleep until you had an enormous headache and back pains. Around 11.09 you got a letter from your father, shaming you as the most irresponsible daughter for not going to class because “you’re sick”. 

But in a way. You did feel like that. You felt sick. You felt like you weren’t normal anymore. You missed those days of being happy. Of not caring about your past, your future, your present. You just wanted that childhood happiness back. Just be happy.

You’re not anymore. 

You feel alone but much more than that you feel like if you died right now, nobody would turn a second eye. You’d just be gone and that’s it. It’s like you are so small nobody can even see you. That feeling was massive.

But something popped into your brain that made you think of something else. You jumped off your bed, put your bra on, sweatpants, your hair in a sustainable bun and you walked down the stairs.

It was at the portrait hole that before you went in a group of people climbed out. He climbed out.

He jumped right in front of you, grinning. "Finally feeling better, princess?" he joked and you just rolled your eyes, pushing him away and climbing through the portrait hole.

"Don't make me catch you after curfew (y/l/n)!" James shouted after you, his laugh echoing behind.

But he didn't really care about curfew or if you come back or not. Even if he was a Head Boy, the last thing he would do was to notice you weren’t where you should have been. 

Nobody noticed until the next day when Alice came down to breakfast.

"Did the hermit finally come back to the cave?" Marlene laughed but Alice only rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Nope. I haven't seen her. She didn't come to any of her classes this morning nor back up to our dorm. I'm kind of worried about her."

"All her stuff is still there. She probably hooked up with someone." she said and by now Sirius was listening intensely.

"Who are we talking about?" he asked.

"Your colashoo buddy." Marlene smiled.

"Wait. She didn't come yesterday back?"

"Nope. Why are you guys worrying so much, like-look!" she said, pointing her finger at the distance. "She's just there..." her voice trailed off when she saw a familiar Slytherin coming after you.

You were still in the same clothes as you were before except your hoodie wasn't the grey Gryffindor one but a black-green Slytherin one.

They were all staring as you laughed in the arms of one of the Slytherins. Paris Abernathy.

"What the hell is she doing with that dickhead?" Sirius gritted his teeth.

He saw you in his arms and he just became enraged. How his hand was loosely hanging on your shoulder, a toothpick pointing out from his perfectly straight white teeth and his lips always so close to your ears, whispering something and causing you to giggle.

"I gotta go now." you smiled, taking his arm off your shoulder and holding his hand.

"Alright." he pulled you back close, hugging you closely. "I'll see you again tonight?"

"Same place?"

"Never the same place, luv." he winked. "I'll send you a note." your fingertips were barely touching due to the distance. "And keep that hoodie. Pissed Gryffindors are always my favorite Gryffindors."

---

Finally, after the whole hot water ran out, you stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped your red towel around your waist. You quickly braided your hair for some nice curls when they dry out, put your T-shirt on, shorts and walked out of the bathroom, finding them all in the room.

"Wow. So much for privacy." you rolled your eyes, draping the wet towel on the edge of the bed and sitting behind the mirror.

"It's our dorm as well. " said Marlene.

"Feels like more than five people live here." you spun around, looking at the other five boys here. "Oh, wait. They almost do." you stood up, went back to the bathroom, cast a charm to dry your hair faster, went back to the mirror and started putting on makeup.

"So, Abernathy?" Marlene started, meanwhile others listened but you didn't answer. "When did the two of you become a-"

"Since my business doesn't concern you. " you replied plainly, not even letting her finish.

"I'm just asking, no need to be a bitch."

"Marlene." you turned around with a fake smile. "You don't ask. You drill into people so you can make fun of them later and spread gossips." you turned back around. "Maybe because you don't have a life to preoccupy yourself with, you stuck your nose into mine."

It was quiet all of a sudden and that silence was exactly the effect that plastered that pleased sly smile on your lips. You didn’t mind the hurt feelings, you just wanted to quickly change and do your hair before this would resolve into unnecessary drama.

"What happened to you?" Sirius said all of a sudden, knitting his eyebrows together.

"I knew you never really cared." you turned around to him, scoffing to yourself. "What happened to me? Didn't you listen to me last time? I finally became selfish like all of you." you threw the brush on the table and went to your wardrobe, pulling out your black jeans, a tight T-shirt and a jacket.

"No. You just turned into a bitch." he stood up.

"Yeah." you smiled wickedly, walked towards him and put your hand on his shoulder. "Thank you for that." you walked by him, grabbed your wallet and hopped down the stairs.

He stood there for a moment before turning around and looking at the others. "She's high. Her pupils are way too-”

“Merlin, Sirius!” Marlene groaned furiously, getting off her bed. “Why do you care so much about her?! It’s her life! She can do whatever she wants with it, whether that’s getting high or shagging the Slytherin’s biggest trouble maker! Her  stupid choice!”

“You don’t get it Marlene!” he snapped at her. “How can you say those things when she’s been your roommate for whole 7 years here in Hogwarts! You don’t know shit about her because you never even tried!”

“Mate, that’s enough.” James tried to calm him down but Sirius just couldn’t.

“No. I know you’re pissed that she was mean to you just three seconds ago but she was right about something, Marls. You don’t have your own fucking life so you go snoop into others.” and he stormed out of the room. 

---

It was at night when he was sitting alone in the Shrieking Shack when he realized just how much he was over-exaggerating about the whole situation. Marlene was right. You can do whatever you want with your life but drugs? That wasn’t you. You wouldn’t choose that. You’re smarter than that. And Paris Abernathy? That fool? Why him? 

It’s not like he was being jealous or anything but you could do so much better than Abernathy. He knew that Sirius himself and you would never work. Not in a million years because the two of you are just too different to work together. Constantly arguing about the slightest things. 

But that was just it. You were so fiery all the time and just at the thought of your angry eyebrows and your pursed together lips made him smile. He just loved seeing you so frustrated with him but at the same time, he loved seeing you so peaceful and calm- like the day he woke up next to you. 

He remembers the first time he saw you sleep, he barely opened his eyes and all he could see was your lips because your hair was covering the rest of your face. Your cheek was pressed on the pillow softly, making your plush lips shaped like a duck’s lip. You were so beautiful- so graceful in those white sheets. Your bare shoulder was in the open meanwhile your hands dug deep under the pillow, bringing it closer to your head. 

“Merlin-” he said out loud, looking up at the ceiling of the room and smiling. This time he remembered the time the two of you were stuck on the floor a few steps away from the portrait hole. After that heart-touching moment, the two of you mostly laughed and teased each other until the shoe-sticking charm broke loose. You had one of the most adorable laughs. It was different than with the others but there really was something in you that just brought all the light into the room and that was the feature he loved you for the most. 

Loved. That’s a strong word to use because he didn’t really know if he loved you. He loved James, like a brother but loving you? That was a bit extreme. Maybe he cared for you enough to think about you all the time. Whether you were okay or not, how you felt and how you walked those halls so bravely. 

You were your own person. You didn’t need friends like he did. You were independent meanwhile Sirius always needed somebody to be there with him.

True- he thought you were doing fine after the whole sho-sticking fiasco. You looked completely fine and he didn’t much bother because maybe you were embarrassed after what you told him? Maybe all you needed was space and that was what he gave you. Your space. 

But what if just by giving you that space drove you into Abernathy’s arms?

He has to ask you. he needs to ask you why Abernathy? Are the two of you sleeping together?- That question put some awful thoughts into his head, he didn’t want to picture and just that almost drove him over the edge to storm into the dungeons and strangle that piece of shit. He doesn’t get to see you in the mornings. Abernathy is too corrupt to see just how graceful you get to be when you sleep because then, he would just exploit that. He would use you- maybe even drive you to your madness.

No. Not Abernathy. You won’t be with him. You won’t. Not on his watch.

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

Play The Game

Ransom Drysdale X Reader Charles Blackwood X Reader Ransom was standing on the porch, white shirt pulled over a broad chest, the forest green cardigan he wore hid just how broad he was though.  The dogs immediately started barking, echoing loudly over the driveway that separated Ransom, Charles, and Y/N.

a/n:I saw Knives Out, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Evans in that fucking green cardigan, so here’s a bunch of smut that popped into my head, you’re welcome

The jacket hung off his shoulders, smirk pulled into place as he sweet talked yet another woman at the bar, at least this one didn’t seem to have a boyfriend.  It wasn’t that he was an idiot, more oblivious to when men stormed over to steal their girls away.  He took it in stride though, waiting until someone new came into the bar.  There was one girl he had his eye on though, but she wasn’t allowed to be his.  

Y/N sipped her martini slowly, savoring the taste as it coated her tongue sweetly.  She couldn’t remember exactly what it was actually called.  Ransom had gotten it for her, promising not to leave her at the bar at the end of the night.  She knew that was a big fat lie, he always left her at the end of the night.

“Sweetheart, why are you over here all by yourself?” Ransom plopped down across from her, arms crossed lightly over his chest.

“Enjoying the view mostly, also watching you fail at picking up women.” Y/N smirked at him over the top of her drink.

“Ouch, that one hurt.” Ransom pouted, lower lip stuck out as he put on his best puppy dog eyes.

She simply shook her head, finishing off the rest of her drink and sliding the glass over to where he now sat.

They’d known one another for so long that she knew all of his tics, what made him truly squirm in the dead of night.  And if she said she wouldn’t use it to her advantage?  Well, that would be a lie.  The stories of how he’d pleased other women, those weren’t too much of a shock to her, the ones that truly got to her were the ones about the men he’d spent time with.

Y/N had managed to find them, asking about how they’d met Ransom, and why he kept this part of his life a secret.  The answers she wanted, and the ones she got were polar opposites, and it excited her all the more.

“I’m sure you’ve heard worse, don’t act so coy with me.” Y/N stood up from the table, heading over to the bar to order another drink.

She’d been waiting for Ransom to make his move, years of struggling to keep quiet while she watched him chase every single woman in town.  He wasn’t subtle about the way he looked at her, eyes raking in her body as he struggled to compose himself.  That’s what she wanted, to bring him to his knees and show him she could do good by him.

Unfortunately he continued to chase everyone else, ignoring the longing looks she would throw his way, begging for his attention.  She’d become colder over those years, building up walls that protected her heart.  If he didn’t want to be with her, then she wouldn’t let him get close enough to see her true feelings anymore.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ransom leaned on the bar beside her, his currently flavor of the week sitting by idly, waiting for him to return.

“Nothing, why don’t you go back to Stephanie, I’m sure she’s been waiting long enough.” Y/N took the glass as the bartender set it down, drinking nearly half before taking a breath.

Ransom’s brow furrowed for a brief second, confusion washing over him as he stared down at her.

“Y/N, I-.” Ransom reached out for her, fingers grazing the lace of her dress as she walked off gracefully.

The sounds of the bar were silent around him as he watched her walk out of the bar, leaving behind a man who was still confused beyond belief.

~~~

Y/N knew exactly the type of game she was playing, letting Ransom chase her, a game of cat and mouse.  He had made his feelings known for her early in their friendship, and she simply ignored him.  Of course he wasn’t going to let her hurt his pride, he was above that in every sense of the word.  Instead he went out and chased any woman that looked his way.  Did it always work out well for him in the end?  Not necessarily.

There were always angry boyfriends that didn’t appreciate the way Ransom looked at their girlfriends, or even jealous girlfriends that didn’t like the way he’d glanced at their girlfriends.  It didn’t stop him though, he wanted to get Y/N’s attention, and he wouldn’t stop until he’d succeeded.  

“You know, he’s probably in love with you.” Charles was absentmindedly picking at the skin around his nails, grimacing at the hangnail on his thumb.

“I know he is, but he’s too immature for my personal taste.” Y/N could see the way Ransoms ears perked up, jaw tightening ever so slightly.

She’d been leading him on for weeks, flirting with Charles whenever they had gone out to the bar together.  He would try, and fail, to ignore the way he’d felt towards her, throwing himself towards the closest woman.  It didn’t always work out with him going home with someone at the end of the night.  He could hardly stand the way Charles’ hands roamed her body, gripping the supple flesh.

“He’s staring at you again, well more like glaring daggers at me while looking at you like a sad puppy.” Y/N risked a glance towards the man in question.

Charles wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest, Ransom looked like a kicked puppy, eyes sad as he watched the way Charles laid a hand against her thigh.  She couldn’t give in though, not until the time was absolutely perfect.

“Why don’t we head out, it’s getting kind of late anyway.” Y/N pushed up and out of her chair quickly, glancing over to Charles.

He simply nodded, following behind as she left the mansion that Ransom’s grandfather had owned.  He’d left it to Ransom in his will, it was a little shocking to hear about the man’s death, but his legacy was living on.  

Y/N half expected Ransom to follow them out to where Charles had parked, the dogs were happily following them, until the sound of the front door opening alerted them.

Ransom was standing on the porch, white shirt pulled over a broad chest, the forest green cardigan he wore hid just how broad he was though.  The dogs immediately started barking, echoing loudly over the driveway that separated Ransom, Charles, and Y/N.  She waited for his words, what would he possibly say to get her to stay?

“Babe, it’s getting cold, we should get going.” Charles played his part so well, it honestly shocked Y/N.

The same man that was playing someone so coy and seductive was secretly getting choked, and spanked for his own pleasure.  Tears running down his cheeks as he begged for more, hands tied roughly behind his back.  He was simply there for Y/N to do as she pleased, it gave him the most pleasure the rougher she was.

How would Ransom react to that?  Would he get off on pain the way Charles did?  Or would he be bratty and defy Y/N?  She wasn’t ignorant, she’d heard stories from the women he’d slept with, as well as the few men.  Charles didn't hide his attraction to the other man, openly looking him over when they were all in the same room together.  And who was Y/N to complain?  Knowing that her sub lusted after the same man she had as well?  It was a match made in heaven, one she could exploit if she truly wanted to.

“Do you think he’ll show up?  Or will he wait for you to crawl to his feet?” While Charles openly lusted for the other man, he didn’t hide his disgust toward his behavior.

“Give it time Charles, he’ll show up.” Y/N placed a gentle hand on his arm, silently comforting him.

Charles relaxed slowly, slipping down onto his knees to better service Y/N in any way that she preferred.  She ran a hand through his hair slowly, wrapping the curls around her fingers as she tightened her grip, yanking his head back harshly.

“Fuck, if he doesn’t show up, I’ll make tonight extra special for you.” Charles was panting, chest shuddering with each breath he took in.

“I know you will darling, but I’ve still got my hopes up for now.” Y/N smirked down at him, sliding the tips of her fingers along his neck.

The sound of tires crunching over gravel caught both of their attention, alerting them to someone pulling up in the driveway.

Y/N didn’t move, letting Charles stand up from his position to go and answer the door.  Ransom looked unsure if he was allowed inside, glancing over at the other man who had begun to sweat.

“Nice to see you again.” Ransom stepped over to where Y/N was, his ever cocky smirk on his face.

“You as well, Charles why don’t you come sit down?” He didn’t waste a second, walking over and kneeling beside the chair Y/N had perched herself in.

Ransom felt his eyes grow wide, he’d never seen someone become so willing, giving themselves over without a second thought.

“Is he always like that?” Ransom hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the man, curiosity getting the better of him.

“When he behaves, yes.” Y/N began to pet Charles’ hair once more.

He nearly purred from the attention, leaning closer so Y/N wouldn’t have to stretch at all to reach him.

“He gives me full control to do what I please with him, and in turn I reward him for his good behavior.” Y/N tightened her fingers, listening to the way Charles’ choked out a moan.

Ransom narrowed his eyes, unsure if this was a sick joke they were playing on him, where they’d get him into a situation he couldn’t free himself from, and then leave him entirely.

“And he enjoys this?  Being treated like a slave?” Ransom scoffed, taking off his coat and laying it across the back of the couch.

“He loves it actually, we’ve been doing this for nearly four years.” Charles shuddered, pushing closer to Y/N.

Ransom could see how much he was getting out of it, cock straining against the fabric of his jeans.  Maybe that didn’t sound like such a terrible idea.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head, do you want to join us?” Y/N wasn’t going to push him, letting him decide if this was right for him.

“Yes, show me the ropes.” Ransom smirked crossing his arms over his chest.

Y/N stood up, leading Charles down to their shared bedroom as Ransom followed.  Charles had crawled on his hands and knees, needing to keep Y/N happy.  

“Go ahead and sit down in the chair, I need to reward my favorite boy.” Y/N tilted Charles’ chin up, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

Ransom plopped into the chair, the leather straining against the new weight.  Charles slid his hands up Y/N’s legs, sliding the tips of his fingers beneath her dress to pull off her panties.  Ransom could hardly see anything, waiting to see exactly how he was going to play into their little game.

He wasn’t going to deny that he was hard as a rock in his slacks, watching the way Charles kissed Y/N’s thighs.  Her soft moans echoed inside the room, Ransom could hardly wait to get his hands on her.

“Why don’t you come over and take over for Charles.” Y/N was looking over at Ransom, waiting for him to do as she said.

“Yes ma’am.” Ransom stood up, pulling off his sweater before dropping down to his knees in front of her.

He could smell her arousal, and it sent his thoughts racing as he pulled her close to the edge of the bed.  Instead of being able to do as he pleased, Y/N reached down and tangled her fingers into his short hair.

“You need to earn it before you can do as you please.” Y/N kept her grip tight, igniting a fire deep inside of Ransom’s stomach.

What the hell was going on?  He’d never liked being denied, it never gave him the type of feeling he was currently dealing with.  So why the hell was he getting impossibly hard getting told no?

“Sorry miss.” Ransom swallowed thickly, gently squeezing her thighs.

“Good boy.” Y/N pulled him closer, spreading her legs to let Ransom get closer.

Charles crawled onto the bed beside Y/N, gently pulling off the dress she’d had on.  Ransom glanced up, taking in the curve of her breasts as Charles slid his hands down her body.  Her nipples hardened, back arching as Charles bit the side of her breast gently.

“Don’t make her wait Ransom, Y/N can be impatient.” Charles pinched her nipples gently, relishing in the way she moaned.

“I won’t make her wait.” Ransom flicked his tongue out, feeling her shudder as he licked all over her clit.

Y/N pulled harshly at his hair, grinding down against his mouth taking all the pleasure she could handle.  Ransom sucked gently, sliding his fingers inside of her wet heat slowly, curling the tips to drag against her g-spot.

“Wait, Ransom slow down.” He pulled away quickly, easing his fingers out to prevent from hurting her.

Charles slipped off the bed, getting down onto his knees to show his submission to the woman above him.  Ransom followed suit, bowing his head to show Y/N that he wouldn’t disobey her.

Y/N stood up, stepping around and over to the closet that was closest to where they all were.  She had all the toys hidden inside, though she mostly only used them on Charles, there was something quite exciting about showing Ransom how fun it was.

“We’re going to play a little game, Charles knows how to be a good boy and play nice for me.  Stand up, lay your head down onto the bed.” Ransom didn’t wait before doing exactly as he was told.

His chest was rising and falling harshly, waiting for whatever Y/N had planned for the three of them.  The sound of leather rubbing together caught his ears for a brief moment, what in the world was she holding?

“Try not to tense, it’ll take the pleasure out of this.” Y/N stepped over, stripping both Charles, and Ransom of the rest of their clothing.

Ransom nodded gently, waiting for whatever Y/N had planned for them.  He heard, rather than felt, the resounding smack as it echoed.  The pain settled in seconds after, warming his skin as he moaned loudly.

This was what she had planned?  Some S&M for the night?  He could handle that just fine, especially if everything was this easy.

The second smack came down harder, sending shivers up and down Ransom’s spine.  Charles on the other hand was taking his in stride, whimpering every few seconds.  She changed sides, giving the same amount of attention to the other side of his ass.  

He could see the way Charles’ skin seemed to glow, back covered in a light sheen of sweat as he begged for more.

“Onto the bed, both of you.” Y/N stepped back, setting down the paddle she’d been using in favor of picking up what looked to be a silicone ring.

Ransom furrowed his brow, palming his cock as he watched Y/N step over to Charles, covering his cock with lube and sliding the ring down slowly, carefully.  The skin flushed a deep red, his mouth hanging open as he moaned softly.

“It prevents him from getting off too soon, that way I can get as much pleasure as I wish.” Charles had his hands above his head, body shuddering as Y/N trailed her fingers along his cock slowly.

Ransom was unsure if he’d want something like that anywhere near his own cock, especially if it prevented him from being able to get off.  Before he could properly react to watching Charles struggle to take in air, Y/N was gripping his cock in a tight grip.

“Holy shit.” Ransom muttered, feeling the harsh tightness the cock ring brought as Y/N began to slide it on.

“You be good, and you’ll get rewarded.” Y/N’s smile was sinister, promising Ransom something he’d begged for in his dreams for years.

Charles pushed up slowly, leaning over to take the head of Ransom’s cock into his mouth.  Ransom threw his head back, gripping onto the brunette’s hair harshly, bucking his hips up to push farther into that wet heat.  He could faintly hear the sound of Charles choking on his cock, gripping the ring that sat at the very base.

“Now, now, I think you’ve had enough fun for now darling.” Charles pulled back slowly, pulling deep lungfuls of air as he looked over to Y/N.

“Sorry miss, where would you like me to go?” Charles seemed all too eager to please her, and it annoyed Ransom immensely.

Her eyes locked on him right away, glancing at how his cock strained against his stomach.

“On your back, now.” Ransom followed his orders, scooting higher up onto the bed and laying down on his back.

Y/N crawled up onto the bed, straddling his waist as if she weren’t about to bring all of his dreams to life.  Charles was lazily stroking himself, being careful not to get too close to the edge and disappoint Y/N.

“Just gotta be good for me.” Y/N gripped onto the ring, holding up his cock as she slid him inside of her body slowly.

Ransom threw his head back, moaning loudly as he gripped onto her hips, struggling to keep from cumming in that moment.  Y/N on the other hand, didn’t wait for Ransom to relax, to get comfortable.  She rocked her hips harshly, throwing her head back as his cock slid deeper inside of her.

It became glaringly obvious why Y/N had put the cock ring on him, it didn’t matter if his cock was ready to explode, he wouldn’t be allowed to cum until she said so.  Charles leaned over, pulling Y/N into a harsh kiss as she rocked her hips slower, pressing down until he was fully seated inside.

“Jesus, gonna make me cum baby.” Ransom was talking nonsense, knowing Y/N wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

Charles pulled out of the kiss, grabbing both of Ransom’s wrists, and cuffing them to the headboard.  It really shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did, the way his cock throbbed inside of her tight, wet heat.

“I think, for tonight you shouldn’t be allowed to cum, only good boys get to cum.” Ransom nearly cried, stomach tightening with the desperate need for release.

“Please, I need to.” He could feel the tears welling up, slipping down into his hair as Y/N quickened her pace.

He’d felt the way her body tightened with each orgasm, losing count after the third.  He could barely focus on his own pleasure.

“No, you’re going to watch Charles and I until I’m done with him, but you will not be getting off.” Y/N pulled him out slowly, watching the way his abused flesh slapped against his stomach.

Charles waited patiently, taking Y/N’s hips into his hands as she crawled into his lap.  Ransom had a perfect view of where their bodies connected, the way she pulled him in slowly.  It was enough to drive him insane, cock throbbing harder as he whimpered.  Charles buried his face into her neck, pulling her hips flush against his own.

He wasn’t rough, or demanding in the way he fucked into her body, no.  It was almost as if he was worshipping her, giving her everything that she could ever possibly need.  Ransom couldn’t help the jealousy that flowed through his veins.  It should’ve been him, not this other guy.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum miss.” Charles didn’t tighten his grip, though he clearly wanted nothing more than to leave behind bruises for everyone to see.

“Hold on baby boy, you’re doing so good.” Y/N slid off his lap, holding onto the cock ring that was still sitting snug at the base.

Charles was quiet as she slipped it off, watching the way he came onto his own stomach, legs quivering.

“Thank you so much miss.” Charles leaned down, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s lips.

Ransom watched on, cock aching against his stomach as he prayed he’d get to feel that type of release.  Except Y/N left him there while she cleaned up the room, cleaning off the paddle, and cock ring she’d left on Charles.  While he was still highly aroused, the urge to cum had lessened exponentially.

“I’m gonna take this off, but since you didn’t behave before you don’t get to cum tonight.” Y/N slowly eased the ring off, being careful not to touch the oversensitive skin too much.

Charles unlocked the handcuffs, letting his arms fall limply to the bed, Y/N had gone to finish cleaning everything up and put it away.

Ransom could feel the way his body was still thriving, looking for that release he wasn’t going to get, and he seemed almost happy about it all.  He wanted to make Y/N happy, and if it meant being denied, well, he’d do it again.

“I think it’s time we get some sleep, don’t you think?” Y/N glanced to Charles, before flicking her eyes to where Ransom was nearly falling asleep.

“That sounds nice miss.” Charles slipped out of the bed, letting Y/N crawl in before him.

Ransom managed to slip underneath the blanket rolling onto his side so that he was facing Y/N, and Charles.  The room felt content, no unnecessary tension that seemed to linger in the air no matter how hard Ransom tried to act fine.

“You did wonderfully, now get some rest.” Y/N pressed a kiss to his cheek, curling up between the two men.

Ransom pulled the blanket up tighter around his shoulders.  He could definitely get used to this.

[garbage-tozier]

problem - r.t. (part one)

prompt number: three - “now? now you listen to me?”

fandom: it (richie tozier x reader)

rating: e for everyone

warnings: a bit of profanity, and yo mama jokes (it’s richie though, come on)

word count: 2.6k (this is the longest thing i’ve written in a while)

--------------------------

the wind rustled the leaves of the trees outside your bedroom window. you lay up in your bed, listening to them, urging your body to fall asleep.

thump.

you shot up in your bed, instantly turning towards the window, where the sound had come from.

you couldn't see out of it, and the sound didn't come again, so you told yourself it was nothing.

"probably just a bird," you thought, laying back down.

thump.

you ignored the sound this time, rolling over onto your side and pressing your eyelids shut tightly.

thump.

"oh, come on!" you cried, throwing your legs over the side of your bed and standing up. 

you made your way over to your window, pushing it open and trying your best to see into your pitch-black yard.

"y/n!" you heard someone yell. hearing what you assume to be an armful of rocks fall to the ground. startled, you jump back.

suddenly, something clicked in your brain. the throwing of rocks at your window. the familiar voice. the only rat child you knew who would ever be awake at such an obscure hour.

"richie??" you said, squinting. you inched towards your window, and though you couldn't quite make out his face, there was no doubt: that was the silhouette of richie tozier.

"can i come in?" he asked eagerly.

"what the fuck are you doing at my bedroom window at-" you paused, glancing at your clock. "what does that say? one? one thirteen am? why, richard tozier, are you standing in my yard, pelting my window with rocks, at one thirteen am?"

"i was bored," he said simply. you couldn't see his face clearly, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was sporting a shit-eating grin.

"ugh," you rolled your eyes. you had been friends with richie tozier for years now. from him, this kind of stuff wasn't exactly expected, but when it did happen, no one was surprised.

"so can i come in?"

"get your ass up here, you idiot," you pushed up the screen and stuck your hand out into the darkness.

you felt richie's hand hook onto your arm, and the two of you worked together to hoist him through your bedroom window.

"alright, rich," you said, lowering the screen and re-closing the window. "what did you need?"

"what!" richie feigned offense. "can't a guy lovingly visit his best friend at one am without needing something from her?"

"cut the bullshit, tozier." you crossed your arms, leaning on the wall. "what. do. you. need."

richie eyed you before letting out a loud, exaggerated sigh. he collapsed delicately onto your bed. "okay, y/n," he placed the back of his hand to his forehead, resting his other hand upon his heart. "you've caught me."

you sat at your homework desk, flicking on your desk light and watching the boy perform. he was now fake crying into his hands.

"i have no choice but to tell you," he continued. he added a couple of sniffles, even wiping his nose on his arm. "i have..... a problem,"

"many," you corrected, pushing him over so that you could sit down next to him on your bed. "what's up?"

as you observed your friend's face, something looked... different. before, richie was pretending to be troubled. but now, the look on his face was one of genuine nervousness.

he bit his lip. "promise you won't freak out?"

you were starting to get worried. i mean, this was richie. richie "i don't give a shit" tozier. what could be so incredibly wrong that he looked so scared?

"i promise," you said, sticking out the pinkie finger of your right hand. he looped his left pinkie through it.

"alright," he took a deep breath. "i need you to pretend to be my girlfriend,"

it took everything in you not to start hollering at the boy. here you were, actually worried about him, and it turns out this was all just another one of his stupid fake pick up line jokes.

"fuck you," you said, throwing down his hand. you stood up from your bed and went back to leaning on the wall.

"no, y/n, i'm serious!" you looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "my mom's family is coming to our house for a party, and i've been telling her i have a girlfriend."

"which you obviously don't" you filled in for him. he looked slightly offended, but said nothing. you surveyed his face. he looked serious enough- but that was the thing. richie tozier was an incredible actor. he was kind of hard to trust sometimes.

"will you?" he begged. under your judgement, which if you did say yourself was quite good (seeing as you'd been best friends with him since the two of you were in kindergarten), he was for real.

still, you were hesitant to say yes. knowing richie, pretending to be his girlfriend would most likely entail a holding hands, standing with each other at all times, and maybe even... kissing.

it wasn't that you didn't want to kiss richie- oh, how you desperately wanted to kiss richie!

but what if you went a little to hard with it? what if you made richie uncomfortable? what if you were holding hands and your hand started sweating? what if his parents didn't like you? what if-

"y/n?"

oh shit. you'd gotten so caught up in thinking about richie that you'd forgotten he was actually in your room.

"damn, rich, i don't know," you said, pulling yourself together. you pushed yourself off of the wall, now standing directly in front of your friend, staring down at the floor. "i..."

you looked up at him. if he wasn't serious, you were going to murder his ass. that clown bitch wouldn't be the only thing haunting his dreams.

"ok," you said, finally giving in. richie immediately brightened.

"thank you sooooo much," he popped of from his seat on your bed and ran over to give you a hug.

"hey, watch yourself, bigfoot! my parents are still asleep, you can't just go stomping around like that!"

"your mom would be happy to see me," richie smirked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"shut your fucking mouth, tozier," you moved to kick him in the shin, but he dodged you. "you don't want me to break up with you, do you?"

"fiiiiine," he sighed, walking back over to your bed and flopping down. "i won't go into detail about what fun me and your mom had last-"

"richie!"

"okay, okay, i'm sorry," he laughed. the air was still for a while as you moved to sit next to him again.

"so about this party..." you said casually, crossing your ankles. "what day, time, who's gonna be there, things like that,"

"well..." richie stared at the floor, as if he were thinking. "it's this saturday, and it's.... 10am to 2pm? i think? but we don't have to stay the whole time."

"okayyy," you said. "who's coming?"

"my aunt, and her kids. they're around georgie's age, but they're not dead-"

"richie!" you scolded, whacking him on the shoulder. "stop that!"

"sorry, 'm sorry," he rubbed his eye with his fist. "there's three of 'em- my cousins. they're all about a year apart. then my grandma and great grandma are coming, and my uncle, who, if i'm being honest, is kind of a creep, so we'll steer away from him,"

you nodded, logging this information in your head. "you tired, rich?" you asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. he yawned.

"no," he replied. "not-" -another yawn- "-in the slightest,"

"wow! looks like trashmouth tozier is not, in fact, a machine! he lives!"

"how do you know my battery isn't low?" he snapped. he blinked, letting his eyes stay closed for just a fraction of a second longer than usual.

"i can't let you bike home in this state," it was true. he was practically falling asleep! if he got on his bike, he might crash! and richie never wore a helmet (not unless eddie convinced him to). "you wanna stay over?"

the boy sitting on your bed was finally beginning to give in. "okay, whatever," he yawned again. "but what about my parents?"

"we'll have you back home before they wake up," you said confidently, glancing at your alarm clock. the time read 2:17am. "we can get four hours of sleep and be up by six if we go to sleep now," you set the alarm as you spoke.

"okay," richie agreed, which was surprising to say the least. "good night, y/n. and thanks, by the way,"

he stood up from your bed, grabbing a spare pillow and blanket from your closet, where he knew you kept them. this wasn't his first time sleeping over.

he made himself comfortable on your bedroom floor. he curled up into fetal position, and closed his eyes.

you switched off your desk light, then walked back to your bed and got under the covers. "g'night, richie,"

however, just like before richie had come, you weren't able to sleep. after a couple of minutes, you decided to get one last question in with richie.

"hey, rich?" you said softly.

"yeah?" you heard him murmur from his position on your floor.

"would we have to like.... i don't know... kiss and stuff?" you tried to be as casual and possible as you slipped that in there.

"i guess?" he said from the floor. "it would sell it better, but we don't have to do anything,"

"m'kay," you said simply, trying not to start hyperventilating.

that was the last thing you remember happening before you finally drifted off to sleep. richie had absorbed all your energy- and for once, you were thankful.

~

"y/n!" you heard as you felt your body being shaken. "y/n, come on! we slept through the alarm!"

"what?" you mumbled, rubbing your eyelids with your fingers. you glanced up at the clock, and instantly felt a pulse of energy run through you. "oh shit, richie, it's 7:45!"

"i know, we have to go!"

the two of you jumped out of your window,running down the street as fast as you could, praying that both of your parents would be sleeping in.

you reached his house, circling around the back to his the closest window that led into his bedroom. you bent down, letting him climb up on your shoulders so that he was tall enough to reach the window.

"lift me higher!" he yelled, stretching his arms up and grabbing the window ledge. "i don't have enough upper-body strength to get my legs through!"

"i'm trying!" you snapped back, pushing the boy upward.

"i got it, i got it!" richie squealed. he now had one leg through the window, and no longer needed your shoulders to stand on.

you pulled away from under him, watching him climb into his bedroom. everything was going according to-

"richard tozier!" a woman's voice suddenly boomed. you hurriedly ducked down under richie's window, praying she hadn't already seen you.

"h-hi mom..." you heard richie wimper. he always made fun of bill's stutter, but look where he was now.

"where have you been all night?" mrs. tozier shrieked. "i come in here at 1am after hearing the window open, worried sick! i thought you'd been kidnapped! and then i check in the garage, of course, because it hit me- maggie, your son isn't exactly a little angel- and your bike is gone!"

fuck. richie had left his bike at your house. you were just about to run off and get it for him, when mrs. tozier started again.

"and don't think i didn't hear you talking to that little friend of yours, whoever is standing outside my house! who is that down there, anyway? the little kaspbrak child? oh, i'll have a word with his mother, alright,"

without warning, mrs. tozier appeared at the window, staring down at you.

"it's a- richie is this? ugh," in an instant the woman disappeared through the window.

"ow, ow, ow, ma you're hurting me!" you heard richie whine.

you were left alone outside for a good two minutes. you stood there, contemplating whether or not you should walk away.

mrs. tozier didn't know your mother, and richie would never rat you out. as annoying as that boy was, he was a loyal friend. you could get off scott free.

as you thought though, you heard richie's front door open. "you, girl!" richie's mother said, in a slightly softer voice than she'd used with her son. "come here,"

she gestured for you to come over and opened her front door. there was no escaping now.

you hung your head and walked over. the entrance of the tozier home led into a sitting room.

richie was planted on a couch, hunched over and staring at the floor, a blank expression dawning his face.

you moved to sit on a different chair, but richie's mother entered close behind you, taking that seat before you could get to it.

"sit," she motioned towards richie, so you sat next to him. "now i'll make this quick, in case you can get off free with your parents,"

you and richie glanced at each other, confused. "you're my son's girlfriend, yes?"

you pried your eyes away from richie's to look at his mother. "yes ma'am," you answered her, keeping up your and richie's lie.

"alright," mrs. tozier sighed. "i won't ask any further questions. all i want to know is what you were doing last night? and for the live of god, richie, where is your bike?"

"well, you see, ma, y/n and i met up over at the uh..." he stopped. 

the two of you made eye contact and you knew he'd just stopped himself from saying 'kissing bridge'.

"we met up by the park...." he glanced over at you, making sure you were following his story. "and we... fed the ducks,"

"oh, richie that's lovely!" his mother cried, placing a hand on her heart. "now tell me the truth."

like mother like son, you thought. mrs. tozier was like a grown-up, female version of her son, in almost every respect.

"alright. we didn't feed the ducks. we rode our bikes around town, and picked flowers," at this, you elbowed richie in his side, trying not to let his mother see. "ow!"

"it’s okay, richie, just stop lying! i won't get mad!" his mother pleaded.

he met your angry gaze. "i guess maybe i should tell the truth, huh?" he said to you.

"really, tozier?!" you rested your head in your hands in frustration. "now? now you listen to me?"

"alright, y/n, since richie seems to be fixed on lying, why don't you tell me what happened."

"he showed up at my window at one am, said he was bored and we talked for a while. then we fell asleep."

she raised her eyebrow at you explanation as well. "it's true," richie chimed in. "that's all that happened."

she looked doubtful, but she seemed satisfied. "alright," she stood. "you get home now, y/n. and bring richie's bike back when you get the chance,"

you smiled politely, waving goodbye. you winked at richie, before standing up and bolting through the door.

as you ran down the street, all you could do was hope your parents hadn't woken up yet; well, that and that no one had broken into your home. you and richie had left the window open.

you jumped into your room, using richie's bike as a hoist, and climbed into bed. fortunately, you were luckier than richie.

you pretended to be asleep as you heard your mother enter your room. "up and at 'em, y/n," she said.

you allowed your eyes to flutter open, giving your mother a smile.

this was going to be a good day.

[i-went-to-a-cuddle-party-once]

Sweet Surprises

Summary: Sometimes life is sweet.

Warnings: Not a whole lot? Mostly fluff. Brief mentions of anxiety, death of a spouse mentioned.

He sat on his couch, groggy and listless, holding his head in his hands. The team’s last case did not go well and he couldn't help but think about all the things he could have done differently. A knock at his door snapped him out of his ruminating.

It wouldn't be his mother or Ainsley, they would have come right in. Boundaries were not their strong suit. He wasn't expecting any visitors. He really needed to get his buzzer fixed. He stood in front of the door wondering if he should open it or just go back to his wallowing.

"Bright, I can see your shadow from under the door, open up," Gil's voice called out. He sighed and unlatched the lock.

"Come on, get dressed, we're going out." Something he appreciated about Gil was that he didn't coddle him, didn't treat him like he was fragile. Sometimes though he hated it.  

"I haven't slept in over twenty-four hours, I really don't-"

"If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you're actually going to sleep I'll leave right now."  Malcolm looked at him, mustering his most convincing look before letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"Fine, just give me five minutes."

…

He stared out the window not paying attention to where his friend was driving them. Gil hadn't explained where they were going nor did he ask. He didn't particularly care. Gil did this sometimes. Picked him up unexpectedly and took him to places he thought would cheer him up. Sometimes it helped. Most of the time it was just a momentary distraction.

"Remember when you and Ainsley were kids and we used to go to that old fashioned candy and soda shop?" He remembered gorging himself on candy. Ainsley giggling and running through the rows of what felt like endless jars of different colorfully wrapped taffy. Jackie taking them to the park after so they could burn off some energy before dropping them back off at home.

"Yeah, it closed when I was fifteen or sixteen. I've never been able to find another like it." Gil smiled at him and parked the car. "I remember it closing," Malcolm added while quickly unbuckling his seatbelt and jumping out. "The owner died didn't he?" Gil said nothing still, just slowly strolling down the sidewalk leading the way.

They turned a corner and there it stood. It was exactly as he remembered. A two-story, red brick building with a pastel sign in swirly letters. Sweet Surprises! Lollys, chocolates, taffy and more! A bouncing Ainsley waiting by the front door waved at them.

"Can you believe it!" She called to him, "Come on hurry up!" Malcolm looked back at Gil.

"How did you- how is this happening?"

"I didn't do anything but read the paper. Apparently, the original owner never sold the property but his kids didn't want to run the place so when his grandkids were old enough they decided to open up shop again. Now come on, Ainsley looks like she's gonna burst it we don't walk any faster" they half walked, half jogged the last half a block down. Ainsley squealed before pushing the door open.

Malcolm was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Well, not nostalgia he realized. This was real, this was happening. He was going to be able to experience the joy of exploring the shelves all over again now as an adult. He couldn't help but smile. The overwhelming smell of sugar hit him and made his mouth water.

It was no secret that he had a sweet tooth. Growing up neither of his parents had allowed him access to much candy. It was the forbidden fruit and because of this he and his sister cherished it more than most could understand. It wasn't until Gil and subsequently, Jakie entered his life that he really experienced this piece of childhood.

The shop was packed with people both young and old. A taffy puller worked in the corner. A soda jerk dressed in traditional clothes filled orders. The shop somehow wasn't any smaller than he remembered. It was just as packed with sweets as he remembered.

He filled one bag quickly and took another to start on when he thought of the team and took a few more bags. Cherry dum-dums for Edrissa, she would appreciate the gesture. Salted caramels for J.T., he kept them in his desk at work. Chocolate covered gummy bears for Danni, he caught her eating them by the handful on a late-night stakeout once.

He found Ainsley on the second floor in front of a display of carefully balanced boxes of bonbons. Her arms just as full as his were although he was fairly certain it was all for herself.

"How's Gil doing?" She asked carefully

"Um. Fine?" He replied, raising an eyebrow at her. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh my god Malcolm, how are you so smart and so dumb at the same time," she shook her head, "this is the place he took Jackie on their first date."

He didn't know how he had forgotten. Too wrapped up in his own thoughts and memories. Every time they came, while he and Ainsley ran amuck, Gil and Jackie sat together sharing a chocolate shake. Once they had satisfied their sugar lust they would join them at the counter and Jackie would tell them the story of their first date. Ainsley would listen with wide eyes, giggling when she mentioned their first kiss. Malcolm would fake gag but honestly, their love was refreshing.

Even before his father had been arrested he couldn't remember a time where his parents so openly showed their love for each other. He didn't know if they ever had. The only reason he had even the slightest sliver of hope that he would meet someone one day was because of them.

Ainsley went back to her browsing and Malcolm returned to the first floor knowing where he would find his friend. He sat on a barstool at the soda counter just like he always had before. A chocolate shake sat in front of him, untouched. He sat beside him.

He didn't know what to say. Gil was one of the strongest people he had ever known. He caught the attention of the man behind the counter and paid for his things before ordering a shake of his own. People laughed and children stared with wide eyes at the magic the shop around them seemed to shine with. The shake was placed in front of him. He took it and clicked it against Gil's cup breaking the man’s far off look. He looked at Malcolm with a sad smile.

"To Jackie," Malcolm raised his glass.

"To Jackie," he replied, taking his first sip.

[hobiwonder]

for steph pt. 2

@gimmesumsuga as promised

God. Every bone in your body ached. Every. Single. One. And no you were not exaggerating, damnit! Being called in to work at every odd hour to deliver babies was exhausting, to say the least. At least your job is so rewarding. That’s what people said every single time. Yes it is Karen but you know what people usually skim over? Running on 5 hours or less of sleep to help birth babies and sometimes back to back. Getting a full 8 hours of sleep was just not enough for you anymore.

No matter how long you slept, it felt like your body was still lagging. Buffering every hour or so because you were just *so* tired. Being a midwife was not easy by any feat. Sometimes you wish you had just studied a bit further and become a doctor. At least you’d get paid more per hour. And sometimes for less work. You’d just finished work, having been awake for more than 20 hours now. Every limb ached and every muscle felt stiff. What did however, bring you the slightest joy was your cute little boyfriend running around the house trying to get you a heat pack for your back, some massage oil to massage your feet and maybe some snacks?

You had already forgotten the things Jungkook had listed but the doe-eyed bunny hybrid was frantically running from room to room, seemingly trying to be in two-places at once. You’d resigned on the big sofa as soon as you’d entered the house and could barely hear him above the ringing in your ears from the beeps of vital machines at the hospital. Still, you appreciated his concern so much. just didn’t have it in you to give your goof a big kiss of gratitude.

You were usually pretty good at hiding your fatigue because of how worried and flustered Jungkook felt witnessing it all. It just wasn’t happening today when the rigorous reminder of your aching felt demanded you to sit on the nearest soft surface: your couch.

“Noona i’ll put on some chicken noodle soup for dinner okay?!” You heard Jungkook’s little shout from the kitchen and the mention of the bunny trying to do anything near a stove was enough to rouse you from your tired haze.

“Baby, no! We’ll just order pizza or something!” A couple of seconds later you hear pots and pans being banged against each other.

The sigh that leaves you is very much of defeat. Jungkook was determined to feed you a home cooked meal. A few more minutes later, he’s hastily stumbling out of the kitchen with a heat pack, a bag of prawn crackers and some baby oil. Pouting all the way to your lounging figure.

“I swear I won’t burn it this time, okay? Please noon.” He’s stretching out the last syllable of ‘noona’ just the way you like it. Damn him for using your weaknesses against you!

“Ugh, fine. Just keep checking on it. If it burns again kook, i’m going to take away your playstation for a whole week!”

The gasp sounding the room - a completely sincere reaction, you might add - has you hiding your face in a cushion because of the smile threatening to show up on your face and break your precarious tone. His bunny ears were standing up straight and all you wanted to do was kiss him silly.

“Okay. I promise! Here, lift your bum for me noona.” Even making the perfectly innocent request, Jungkook’s cherub cheeks are flushing with a pretty pink.

Doing as he says, he places the heat pack right beneath the curve of your hips. Moaning in delight and the instant soothing  warmth of the pack, you stretch your arms above your head. The action causes your shirt to hitch up, exposing your midriff. Despite being very intimately familiar with your body, Jungkook never fails to flail and scuttle at your exposed skin like he’s seeing it for the first time.

Trying not to stare, he start to push your pants up your legs but to no avail, they don’t move up too much.

“Wait, kook.” Wriggling and lifting up your hips once more, you push down the pants until they are at mid-thigh. And Jungkook has all but become a tomato.

“Now, just take them off for me, bun.” Staring down at him where he sat near your legs, you watch him worry the material down your thighs and legs until it’s completely off. You laying on the couch only in your undies.

You’re scared you were going to almost bite off your lip from biting it so much. There was no other way for you to burst out in giggles at his cuteness. He never failed to make you smile. This was the same boy who whined and moaned for you to push him over the edge when your mouth was on his more scandalous body-parts.

And now here he was, a blushing mess as he massaged the baby oil on your feet for a smoother glide of his palms.

“D-Does that feel okay, Noona?” His wide, curious eyes look up at you finally, making sure he was pressing against the right spots and relieving the ache in your feet from standing up so long.

“Yes baby. I feel better already.” The praise lifts his spirits tenfold, encouraging him to massage your feet more diligently.

It’s silent for a couple of minutes. You just enjoying the amazing massage and the heat on your back.

“You work to hard noona.” You’d been so absorbed in the comfort, you miss the tremble in his voice.

“Hm?”

“Maybe I-I... should get a job?” his voice is so small, it was almost inaudible.

But you knew that the quieter he got, the more you really needed to listen to what he said. Due to the immense stress and fatigue, it takes a couple of minutes for you to fully comprehend what he has said.

Lifting your head up to look at him, your voice is harsher than you intended. “What?”

“It.. I j-just hate s-seeing you like this.” Jungkook’s voice had become steadily higher with each word.

He was about to cry. With the speed of light - your reaction times were a little messed up - you’re rising up to motion for him to come closer.

“Come here baby. Come lay with me kook.” He’s stopped massaging your feet now. Plans now covering his eyes, lips trembling as he tries to hold himself back.

Your heart is about to break into tiny little pieces seeing your bunny crying just because you had a tiring shift. He was too good to you and you needed him to know that.

Tugging at his shirt, you urge him once more. “Come on. Come cuddle with noona, him?”

Thankfully, he doesn’t need more convincing as he lunges forward, tackling you in the biggest hug and you wrap him up in your arms more than willingly. Holding his head close to your chest, you rest your head atop him. Letting him cry it out against you. Little hiccups fill the air, only spurring you on more to press kisses against his forehead and damp cheeks.

“Oh my baby. Worrying so much for me. I’m all better just from you worrying so much. See?” You lean your head down to look at his puffy eyes, shining brilliantly even after he had cried a fair bit.

He was too beautiful for his own good ugh. “Y-You’re just s-saying that to make me feel better. When I-I should be the one m-making you feel better!”

You could almost hear his inner turmoil and it was enough to let you know how sincere he was in his offer. He really wanted to help but you didn’t want it any other way. He was still in university while you were not. You could handle a few tough days if it meant he studied without any worries. Certainly if it meant that he wouldn’t have be as stressed as you while he was still studying.

“You made me feel better by just showing me your pretty face. And look, you massaged my feat and you’re about to feed some unburnt food too, right?”

The little dig at his previous mishap finally brings a little smile to his pretty face.

“There you go. I want to see you smiling all the time. That’s my medicine.”

For a moment you think Jungkook is going to burst into tears once more. But thankfully, he just wraps his hands around you too and kisses you instead. His hands run all over you while yours hold his head in place. His kisses have become haphazard, trailing everywhere, not being able to get enough.

And you’re just about to lose yourself in the nips of his teeth and the grind of his pelvis. Until you smell that unforgettable smell once more.

“Jungkook! The stove!”

[chromecutie]

Not A Ghost - part 32

A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.

Masterlist on my profile!

Taglist: @emma-frxst  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @holamor ​  @empressme-bitch  @marvel-is-perfection  @hazilyimagine ​ @marvelhead17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash ​ @whitewitchdown ​ @master-sass-blast ​ @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen @emberbent @leo-writer . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.

-------------------------------------

Sleeping next to Wade wasn’t the same thing as being at home, but they had both woken up less stiff than they would have if they’d slept separately. Even better, Rhonda felt keen, determined, even a little optimistic.

“Stay sharp,” Rhonda warned Wade over their cold sausage and some oatmeal that could be used to cover cracks in drywall. “After last night, I have a feeling one or both of us might get stabbed today.”

“Oh really?” Wade asked as if she had just told him she thought it might rain. “Just a feeling, or do you say that because of the guy behind you twirling a shiv?” Her eyes shot wide and he nodded, “Yeah, he’s looking at you, ready to snap into a Slim Jim. Move left in three...two...yup--” 

Rhonda ducked, covering her head and neck with her hands as Wade flung his plastic spork at a scrawny, dark haired man who let out a gargling shriek when it plunged into his neck, just above his collar. A sharpened piece of plastic that used to be a pen fell from his hand and clattered to the floor. Wade complained, “Dammit! I missed his eye!”

The nearest guard rushed over and glared at Rhonda, “What the hell happened over here?” His hand was quick to tighten over the cattle prod on his belt. 

“I don’t know,” she scoffed. “I don't know this guy. He just fell. Right, Wade?”

Wade replied around a big mouthful of sausage, “He’zh clumzhy on that toi-let wine.” He threw up his hands in an exaggerated shrug. Rhonda mimicked the shrug and took a bite of oatmeal, trying not to gag on it.

Boots thumped on concrete as a second guard showed up, and scowling at Wade and Rhonda, they both dragged the wailing man away toward the infirmary.

With a furtive glance around the mess hall, Rhonda caught a brief glimpse of Mimi a few tables away giving the slightest nod. Apparently, the man wasn’t part of the Vicious 13, and they wouldn’t have to worry about punishment. Lucky.

When Rhonda sighed and pushed her tray toward Wade, he eagerly took up her spork and finished off her oatmeal. How he could seem to enjoy the food was beyond Rhonda.

The Icebox didn't have a yard to speak of - at least not an outdoor yard. Built into the side of a snow capped mountain, the entire complex was indoor. A sealed box. There was a large central space, lined with the cell blocks that stretched for what felt like miles. In the middle of that was a large, open space where the mess hall and "yard" blurred into each other. Past the tables and benches of the mess hall were the weight racks, a pair of basketball goals, and some other equipment, most of it damaged from years of riots. There were very few fluorescent lights. Instead, most of the lighting came from the skylights several stories above. On a bright day, the lighting might have felt like a shopping mall, but there were no bright days on this mountaintop.

After breakfast, Wade and Rhonda hadn’t been put on any duties, so they were free to make their attempts at recreation in the yard. They had settled on a suspiciously rickety weight bench near some other members of the Vicious 13.

As they got the barbell ready for a few sets of bench press, they watched over each other’s shoulders, wary for another potential attack. The barbell was lopsided - there weren’t enough plates to make it even, so Wade pressed some of his own weight on the lighter side for Rhonda’s sets. She was on her second set when a pair of inmates approached.

“Hey, V-One-Three,” one greeted, “Can you add us to your rotation for a few sets?”

Rhonda sat up and before she could answer, the second inmate let out a startled hiss of, “Oh, shit.” They muttered a hurried excuse and quickly walked away. She watched them another moment, then rolled her eyes and laid on the bench again to finish her set.

“Okay, seriously,” Wade said, “Why does everyone in here wanna kill you or avoid you like a celebrity with a rape scandal?”

She puffed a breath, pushing harder against Wade’s resistance. “You know how when dirty cops go to jail, they get sent somewhere outside their county, or out of state? So they don’t have to be in general pop with the people they arrested?”

Wade started snickering. He coughed a little, but still tried to keep his weight consistent on the bar.

Rhonda took a deep breath before her next rep. “Well when I first got here, I was sure there had been a mistake and I made a big deal about being part of X-Men. Guess who put a bunch of people in here.”

“The Avengers?” When she leveled a stony glare on him, he chuckled a little more before asking, “Okay, so what else?”

She shifted uncomfortably, and racked the bar for a moment to catch her breath between sets. She tugged at her sleeve to make sure most of her Xs were covered. “Eventually, I...snapped.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “What does it look like when lawful good snaps? Quit saying ‘bless you’ when someone sneezes?”

Rhonda looked up at him, rusty barbell between them. “I started doing what everyone in here does. Stabbing kidneys, slashing thighs. But then I escalated. I broke a couple necks, and…” she took a deep breath and shuddered.

Wade smiled, a twinkle gleaming in his eye. Rhonda whispered something too soft for him to hear. “Hm?” he held a hand to his ear.

A voice near Rhonda’s feet said, “She slashed a motherfucker open and pulled out his intestines with her bare hands.”

Rhonda ducked under the bar to sit bolt upright, a shiv glinted in her hand. The blue-haired man she had pointed out to Wade when they first arrived stood before them. His arms were crossed, his deep bronze skin seemed dull compared to the bright blue of his cornrows.

Wade’s jaw dropped. Then he gave Rhonda a slow clap. “Look at you! Giving Arya Stark a run for her money! Miss Murder’n’Mayhem!”

The inmate bared his teeth, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, “She took a bite, too. I seen it.” He turned his gaze to Wade and pointed at Rhonda, “This psycho bitch bit off a guard’s finger too. If she’s using you for a slampiece, you better watch yourself.”

When Wade looked at Rhonda again, she was perfectly still, her features void of any emotion. “You have a lot of fingers for someone doing so much talking,” she warned.

Wade made a big show of grimacing and groaning, “Cannibalism? Really?”

The blue-braided inmate shrugged, “Nah, I know you won’t fuck with me. I ain’t given you any reason. Besides, you slash a V-One-Three? Mimi won’t have that. See how quick she makes you disappear.” His chin jutted upward, absolutely arrogant. It annoyed Rhonda, but he wasn’t wrong.

She lowered her shiv, but didn’t put it away. Cold glare fixed on the newcomer, she asked, “You need something, Janks?”

He waved vaguely toward the bench she sat on, “This bar’s in the V-One-Three section. Any of us can use it. Now move so I can do a set. I’ve got messages from Mimi.”

She hesitated to move. “If Mimi’s got something to say to me, she can tell me herself.”

Janks gave another mirthless smile, “Mimi is a busy lady.”

Sharing a pointed look with Wade, she reluctantly got up and let Janks settle. Wade coughed again, so Rhonda had him lean on the heavier side of the bar, so he could have it easier and she could lean with her own weight on the lighter side to Janks’s satisfaction.

Janks was surprisingly strong. He pumped each rep quickly, raw power in his lean muscles. He puffed a breath with each rep. “Mimi says - hhh - she knows the right snake hole - hhh - to get to the top of - hhh - the mountain.”

“Nice code,” Wade quipped. “A little on the nose for my taste, but--”

“What else did Mimi tell you?” Rhonda asked with a sharp edge in her voice.

“Hhh - Nothin’ she doesn’t trust me with,” Janks evaded. “There’s something - hhh - you’ll have to take care of - hhh - she says you’ll know what to do.” 

He paused at the end of his set, and Rhonda let him breathe a second before she pressed, “That’s it? She didn’t give any details?”

Janks scoffed, “How many fuckin’ details you need, Guestbook, huh? I told you everything I’m supposed to.” He curled a finger, signaling he was ready for another set. 

Practically hovering over his face, Rhonda gave a quiet snarl, “Whatever it is, if Mimi’s not happy, you better hope it wasn’t because of a communication error.”

Janks worked another two sets before he left them alone. Wade was coughing too much for Rhonda to let him do a set at all, and instead they took a worn deck of playing cards to one of the tables at the edge of the mess hall. As she started shuffling the deck, careful not to tear the corners any worse than they already were, Wade asked, “You really eviscerated somebody and then made a snack of him?”

Rhonda clenched her jaw so hard Wade could hear her teeth grinding. “I did the guard’s finger, yes. But the first guy...I spat some blood at somebody. You know how stories get twisted.”

“Uh-huh,” he was trying not to laugh.

“This isn’t something I’m proud of,” she snapped, her voice still raspier than usual. “The first time I killed someone, I couldn’t hold any food down for days. And later, I...I either got used to it, or I got better at not thinking about it." She paused and dropped her voice to a near whisper and looked away, "I don’t know which is worse.” Her teeth ground again as she pursed her lips and started dealing the deck evenly between herself and Wade.

His expression softened. “We won’t be here long,” he assured her. “The gang’s probably already on their way here. What’s the plan for these collars? I have a feeling you’ve been making decisions without cluing me in...”

“Let’s play War,” Rhonda flipped the top card of her deck - a queen of spades with her faces scratched out. Wade revealed a three of hearts, and Rhonda took both for her pile. “Mimi will get into the control office and let us in. Until then, we keep her happy doing whatever she tells us.”

Wade started to laugh, but it quickly turned into coughs again. “You let the snake lady gang lord be in charge of the most important part of our plan? Why did you agree to that?” He flipped a seven of diamonds, which beat Rhonda’s two of clubs. 

“I got her to buy in on getting the fuck out of here.” She surreptitiously glanced around, checking for anyone listening.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” he grumbled as they tied the next round and each laid out three cards for battle. “You don’t strike me as much of a diplomatic type. What did you promise her?”

Rhonda won the next round and leaned close. “Every inmate in here would give anything to get these collars off. I promised Mimi that if she helps us, she can take collars off whoever she wants.”

Wade fidgeted with the corner of his next card. “And if she chooses people who can wreck our shit?”

She shrugged. “When I first got mine off, I couldn’t do anything. It was a couple days before I could even make sparks again. There’s a chance that the collars affect other people like that too, especially the ones who’ve had them a long time. Their abilities will probably be lessened.”

“I smell a whole lot of maybe in that idea…”

“What other options do you see, Wade?” She slapped her next card on the table. “If we had a year, we could build a cover, we could get a guard in our pocket, make some hiding places, but this is the best we can do right now.” She shook her head and muttered, “Besides, it’s not like we have to take them with us.”

“Inmate!” a guard barked from a distance.

Wade raised his eyebrows. “I’m surprised you’d have that attitude, but okay. I--”

“IN-MATE.” The guard was closer now, impatient. “Guestbook!”

Rhonda turned, schooling her features to predatory stillness. A few other inmates had gathered behind the guard, watching. This was the guard who had been with Reyes when the DMC had recaptured her. “Calhoun,” she said flatly. “How’s Reyes?”

Calhoun had bruises around one eye, and though Rhonda couldn’t remember, she suspected she'd put those bruises there herself. He was seething, “He’s out of the ICU, and he asked me to...watch over you until he gets back.”

“Here I am,” she said simply.

“Yeees,” Calhoun drawled. “Here you are.” 

He moved, and Rhonda dove under the table. Cards fluttered in the air. Before she had a chance to roll to Wade’s side, Calhoun and another inmate snagged each of her ankles and dragged her out into the open. Wade jumped, ready to help, but three inmates grabbed him, pinned his arms back, and started punching his gut.

Rhonda clawed at the cement, breaking fingernails as they dragged her. Adrenaline flooded her veins as she scrambled to defend herself. She whirled and caught the inmate in the face with her elbows, breaking his nose and spraying blood, but Calhoun caught her arm and threw her down onto her face. She was nearly to her feet again when a heavy, steel-toed boot caught her in the belly. The breath rushed out of her and she collapsed onto her side. 

Three more inmates pulled at her arms and legs until she was immobilized. 

Calhoun jabbed his knee into her lower back, ignoring her pained grunt. “It’s been a while since we’ve had our Guestbook,” Calhoun leaned over so Rhonda could see his cruel smile, “and we’ve had a lot of newcomers who need to sign.”

Rhonda screamed. Wild, pure rage echoed through the yard.

The guard tore her right sleeve clean off her arm, revealing her lacework of badly inked Xs.

Wade roared in angry futility, even as the inmates holding him kept beating him.

Calhoun took something from his pocket, a tattoo gun cobbled together from CD player parts and office supplies. He slowly ran one hand along Rhonda’s arm, looking for a blank space. “I forgot how full your arm is,” he said. “Maybe we should tear off the rest of your clothes.”

Rhonda huffed and heaved, raging but trying to conserve her strength. “Reyes thought he was tough until a giant Russian mutant had his hands on him,” she growled through her clenched jaw. “Reyes is shit, and you’re shit. You’ll die shit.”

Unperturbed, Calhoun hooked his fingers into Rhonda’s collar and thumped her head hard against the concrete floor. Looking at the inmates who had gathered around them, he flashed his teeth in a horrible smile. He offered up the improvised tattoo gun. “Okay, who’s first?”

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 13 | Morgan Rielly

TW: alcoholic parent; homelessness

Briony was alone.

Morgan was somewhere between Carolina and Tampa Bay.  She was 17 floors above Toronto in a condo building.  The lights from the skyscrapers illuminated the tranquil night sky around her as she stood looking out her window.  At 2am, there wasn’t much noise from the city below, despite being near one of the busiest intersections.  She could feel the still, cold air of the night near her feet, the slightest draft coming in from outside.  Everything was peaceful.  Everything was serene.

Despite the stillness of the night, she couldn’t sleep.  She wasn’t able to put her mind at ease since that morning, when she moved everything into the apartment.  All she really had to do was hang up clothes, since everything else was furnished and provided, but when she was done there was still a sense of…restlessness within her.  Now that she was alone, and not with Aryne, Lucy, Ashley, Angie, or any combination of the four, her mind began to reminisce on the past ten days.  Even then, the past eighteen years.

Her first vivid memory was singing “Itsby Bitsy Spider” to her mother on the steps of a house she never lived in again.  Sharon was sitting on a lawn chair, jean shorts and a tank top on, tanning in the sun.  Briony had asked her if she wanted to hear her sing, and Sharon didn’t respond, so Briony just went for it.  On the floor near where her mother’s hand dangled, a case of beer sat waiting to be consumed.  When Briony finished the song, her mother looked at her through her sunglasses, said nothing, and took a long sip of beer.

Briony could remember every house they lived in.  In a notebook she used to have, she had written down every address that became their temporary home.  She remembered the rooms her mom’s “friends” would provide them in between them waiting for public housing units. She remembered each apartment they lived in thanks to Toronto Community Housing.  She remembered the rooms at the homeless shelters they would stay in; the bigger rooms provided for them because they were a “family” versus the smaller rooms provided for them when it was winter and busy and so crowded that they only reason they got a room in the first place was because they were considered a “family”.  She remembered sleeping on the floor and using her school backpack as a pillow while her mother took the only bed.  Briony lost count at somewhere around twenty-five different living situations.  She never counted recurring visits to the same homeless shelter as different.  

Briony could remember the smell of alcohol whenever she would come from school.  It was either alcohol or cigarette smoke – sometimes a mix of both – and for a while she wondered if she’d ever be able to get the stench out of her clothes.  She could remember the first time she recognized a branded bottle of vodka on the coffee table.  The clear liquid was always more important to Sharon than anything Briony ever had going on.  It was more important than curriculum nights, than parent-teacher interviews, than toasting some bread for breakfast, than preparing a packed lunch for school, than making dinner, than tucking her into bed at night.  It was the reason why her teachers gave her granola bars during recess, the reason some teacher she didn’t even know packed an extra sandwich for her to eat so she’d have a lunch.  It was the reason she’d have to walk home everyday, regardless of how far the school was from the house or if it was raining or snowing.  It was the reason why teacher after teacher would speak to her privately and ask her “Is everything alright at home?” and she’d have to look them dead in the eye and lie and say “Yes”, because the despite the severe alcoholism, the thought of her as a small child being separated from her mother was scarier than just dealing with it.  Sharon always told her life would be worse for Briony if they were separated and Briony chose to believe her.  She didn’t want to become a ‘system’ kid, lost and shuffled around until a family deemed her worthy of staying with them.  Alcohol shaped Briony’s entire worldview as a child of how adults functioned.  Alcohol gave Sharon an excuse not to be a mother, to love something other than her child.  Alcohol prevented them from every having a normal, functioning, mother-daughter relationship.  Alcohol killed any hope Briony had in Sharon of ever overcoming her addiction issues.  

Briony could remember the day of the emancipation.  She had provided the court with enough evidence against her mother, and the court ruled in her favour.  In Ontario, she technically didn’t even need the court’s permission – she could have just left – but Briony wanted to make sure her mother, however lazy, couldn’t come back legally and claim something.  It was a long and strenuous process, but she got what she wanted.  Truthfully, she probably got what Sharon wanted too – to not have to care about another person anymore.  Briony could take care of herself.  She always did, anyway.  When she left the courtroom, Sharon looked at her.  “I wasn’t a bad mom, you know,” she said to Briony, and that’s when Briony knew there was no saving her.  Those were the last words Sharon said to her.  Briony said nothing back.

Because of all this, moving was her normal.  It was a miracle that she was even able to keep the same apartment in the Annex for a few years.  Moving was her constant.  So when she moved into this condo now, sleeker than anything she’d ever been in, bigger that anything she’d ever lived in, it felt somewhat normal - somewhat because she wasn’t moving into a rooming house, or a shelter, or a subsidized apartment.  It was a fresh start.  She wasn’t going back to her past.  

But that’s why her past was brought to her mind.  

Briony knew her childhood wasn’t normal.  She didn’t need a psychiatrist to tell her that.  But after leaving her mother, she tried to make her life as normal as possible.  She tried to put her past behind her.  But with the break-in, her past had crept up on her again.  She knew break-ins happened to a lot of people, but she couldn’t help but wonder why it kept happening to her; what bad luck she had stuck on her to have this happen again.  The only exception was this time she had a support network.  She had Angie and Mason, her best friends.  She had Morgan, soft, strong, beautiful Morgan.  She had Aryne and John; Jake and Lucy; Naz and Ashley – people willing to help her get through this so she didn’t have to be alone.  

Despite the mix of emotions, and despite the feeling plaguing the pit of her stomach, she couldn’t call anybody.  A part of her didn’t want to call anybody.  She had always handled these feelings on her own, and even though she had a support network now, she knew sometimes it was going to stay that way.  She could get through this herself, as she always did; the mix of emotions, the feeling of restlessness, the recollection of her childhood.  Nobody could truly understand what she had been through, and what it took for her to overcome the negativity surrounding her constantly.  She was strong, and kind, and diligent, and a hard worker, and she knew she could handle this because she had done so before.  

So instead of calling Angie or Morgan, she lay down on the floor.  The place she knew best.  The place she often slept growing up.  And she stared up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to overtake her mind, to calm her complicated thoughts.

***

“It’s a nice place,” Morgan commented as Briony finished giving him the tour of the apartment.  Finally, finally, after so fucking long, he was home in Toronto.  He had messaged almost constantly, and they have FaceTimed every day, but nothing beat having him back in the city where she could physically touch him, see him, hug him, kiss him.  “Do you like it?” he asked.

Briony nodded her head.  “It’s really nice.  I’m still a bit…I don’t know, getting used to it.  There’s a lot of room.  But it’s really nice.  You should see the view at night.  It’s really pretty with everything lit up.”

“Do you feel safe here?” he asked again.

She nodded her head quickly.  “I do.”

“Don’t lie to me.  If you don’t feel safe we’ll find somewhere else.”

“I’m not lying,” she assured him as he grabbed her hand and pulled her gently towards his body so he could wrap an arm around her.  “I feel really safe here.  I’m high up, and there’s the doorman and the security system and stuff, and it’s all very high-tech.”

“Have you used any of the stuff in the kitchen?” he asked, knowing her great affinity for cooking.  They were in it now, leaning up against the counter.  “Ashley told me it’s fully stocked with everything.”

“I used the Kitchen Aid mixer to make my own pizza dough one night instead of ordering one,” she admitted, smiling.  “I’m…gonna have a lot of fun using all this stuff.”

“Good,” he smiled, bending down to kiss her and to squeeze her ass.  She yelped and giggled as he did so, and he responded by picking her up and placed her on the kitchen island, wrapping her legs around his torso.  He was looking up at her at that point, and gave her a quick kiss.  “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be here for you during the move.”

“It’s nothing that I’m not used to,” she said, his heart breaking a little as she did.  “You have a job and responsibilities too you know.  Just like me.  We’re both adults.  I understand why you couldn’t be here.”

“I know.  But I feel like a bad boyfriend.”  At one point he seriously contemplated approaching Babs and Kyle and asking permission to take a flight back to Toronto for all of eight hours so he could make sure she was okay.  John had to talk him out of it.  

“You’re the farthest thing from a bad boyfriend,” she said, running her fingers through his hair.  She knew it calmed him, much like when he did it to her.  When they were cuddling, besides having his hands on her ass or boobs, it was usually running gently through her hair.  “You’re the best boyfriend I’ve had.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not.  You really are,” she assured him.  She knew she didn’t particularly have to stroke his ego on the subject, but she wanted to make it known.  A mischievous grin appeared on her face.  “Definitely the biggest dick.”

He snorted loudly.  “I hope that’s not an exaggeration.”

“I guess you’ll never know,” she wiggled her eyebrows.  

He bit his lip before leaning in and kissing her, biting her bottom lip and dragging it with him as he pulled away.  “You’re a vixen, you know that?”  He pushed away from the counter.  “Come on, show me everything you bought.”

When he called her a vixen she thought of the lingerie she ended up buying.  Lucy was right – black did look good on her.  A few different pieces were bought, and Briony would definitely pull them out at some point – probably before he left for Christmas – but for now, she’d keep them a secret.  She had never put lingerie on for any previous boyfriends – mostly because she couldn’t afford it, but also because nobody had ever…requested it?  She didn’t know if these conversations came up with couples.  But with Morgan, she wanted to be ahead of the game.  She didn’t want him to have to ask; she wanted to give him the gift herself.  

She brought him back into the master bedroom and its large walk-in closet to see everything that was purchased for her.  He saw the different pairs of jeans, the work tops versus the casual tops, the fitted trousers and professional blazers, the work dresses and skirts.  He saw the designer pieces the girls convinced her to buy, in their own section in the closet.  He saw the new shoes, the runners, some flats and of course some heels.  He saw the new handbags, the Chanel pearl-studded crossbody, the Louis Vuitton tote, and the Yves Saint Laurent bag “for work”.  He saw the new luxurious bathrobe, the new silk pajamas, the fancy creams, shampoos, skincare, and makeup she now had.  The hair straightener.  The curler.  The good blow dryer.  

“What was it like with the girls for that?” he asked, running his fingers over a chiffon dress hanging near the end of the closet.  

She giggled slightly.  “It was an adventure,” she commented.  

“How so?”

She motioned to all the clothes hanging in the closet.  “They…we didn’t stop.”

“But that’s a good thing,” Morgan said.  “You have all this stuff now.”

“Isn’t that what it just is…stuff?” she asked.  Morgan gave her quizzical look.  “Like, don’t get me wrong.  I’m beyond grateful.  You have no idea what it feels like for me to have all this.  I never thought, in five lifetimes, that I’d ever have a Chanel bag, and now I have one.  I never thought I’d have even just a Kate Spade bag.  But I…have a Chanel bag now.  It’s all very weird, Morgan.”

“Why is it weird though?” he asked, shutting off the light in the closet as they exited.  He guided her towards her bed and sat down, pulling her on top of him so she was sitting on his lap.  “I told you before, you deserve nice things.  And yes, at the end of the day it is just stuff, but it’s nice stuff and stuff that you need.”

“Do I need a Chanel bag?”

“But you deserve it.”

“You don’t understand Morgan,” she said, shaking her head slightly.  She didn’t mean it in a bad way; she was just stating a fact.  Morgan grew up fairly rich, in a nice house in West Vancouver with both parents and a dog and membership at a country club.  She grew up in subsidized housing and rooming houses in downtown Toronto with a single alcoholic mother who relied on welfare to keep them from drowning.  His perspective on things was off in comparison to hers.  It was just the reality of the situation.  They came from two different worlds.  “You have to understand…my dreams don’t even go that far.”  

“What do you mean?” he cradled her face in one of his big hands.

“None of this was ever supposed to happen to me,” she whispered, a single tear rolling down her cheek.  “I mean I worked my way to a good education and hopefully a decent job, but it’s all in an effort to achieve modesty.  I was never going to have a Chanel bag.  I was never going to have Gucci loafers.  I was preparing myself for a decent apartment, and then hopefully when I met someone and got married, like, a bungalow in North York or something.  I was never supposed to be surrounded by money.  I was never supposed to be in the position to have a one hundred and twenty dollar bottle of wine at Cibo.”

Morgan wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb and gave her a quick kiss.  “I know it’s hard for you to accept all this.  I know it’s completely out of your comfort zone.  I get it.  At least, I’m trying to.  But just because you didn’t expect it, doesn’t mean you can’t accept it.”

“I know, I know.  That’s what I have to reconcile with myself,” she said.  “Somewhere along the line the universe went crazy and now I’m here.  And I have to grow and learn and adapt.  I know.  It’s going to take some getting used to but I understand that I’m here now.”  She ran her thumb along the outline of his lips, staring into his bright blue eyes.  She gave him another quick kiss.  “I still don’t feel comfortable about one thing though.”

“What’s that?”

“I don’t feel right not paying them back,” she revealed.  ���Ashley said she would burn any cheque or money I gave her, and Aryne and Lucy said the same, but it’s still not right.  I’m thinking I should maybe take out a loan because we spent quite the pretty penny.”

Morgan stiffened at her words but then sighed heavily.  “You don’t have to pay them back because it was me.”

She gave him a look of shock, like she couldn’t understand the words that were coming out of his mouth.  “Excuse me?”

“I gave Ashley my credit card when she dropped off Naz,” he revealed.  “Everything went on my card.  I told her to go crazy, and I knew she would, because she’s Ashley”

“Morgan.”

“And I’m gonna repeat Ashley’s sentiments.”

“Morgan,” she cried on the spot, tears streaming down her face.  “No no no no no no no,” she repeated over and over.

“Bumb--”

“Mo, how?” she wailed, trying to wriggle out of his grip.  “Wh-Wh-Wh…”

“Hey hey hey, stop,” he cooed, wiping her tears again, holding on to her tighter so she wouldn’t go anywhere.  “Briony, come on.  You actually think I wasn’t going to do everything in my power to help you?”

“Mo…”

“Shhhh, shhhh,” he wrapped his arms around her and laid down on the bed, bringing her with him so her body was laying on top of his.  “You deserve it, Bumblebee.  You’ve been through so much and this is the least I can do, okay?  Don’t think about it too much.”

Briony thought about the ramifications of his actions.  It was deliberate – on the part of everybody.  It wasn’t like he didn’t know what the girls were up to – he knew exactly.  And it wasn’t like Ashley, Lucy, or Aryne were billing him for what they spent.  Angie didn’t tell her when they went out.  No.  He had gone out of his way to give his credit card to Ashley, to tell her to ‘go crazy’, to cover every little thing she spent money on.  The girls must have given each other the credit card when Briony wasn’t looking.  She didn’t know if she should feel repulsed about the amount of money that would show up on his credit card bill.  She wanted to wrestle her way out of his arms and return everything.  She kept shaking her head.  “I’m never gonna be able to re-repay you or earn enough mon --”

“Don’t even think about it,” he said firmly.  “What did I just tell you?”

“Morgan, that’s a lot.”

“And I have a lot.  So don’t.”  There was a long moment of silence.  He knew she was thinking about all the stuff she bought, mentally calculating the cost of everything.  He knew he wouldn’t even think twice when his credit card bill came.   He looked down at her before he couldn’t help but add, “It is a really nice Chanel bag.”

She squeezed her body onto his more.  She had to agree; it was a nice bag.  It was at that point she realized she wasn’t going to win.  She let out a shaky breath and realized this was her life now – at least momentarily.  She wouldn’t be going on major, life altering shopping sprees again any time soon.  “You do this for me and then I can’t even come to the Florida game tomorrow because of my last two exams.  You said you feel like a bad boyfriend but I feel like a bad girlfriend.”

“Naaaah nah nah nah,” he shook his head, placing light kisses all over her face.  “You don’t worry that pretty little head of yours.  Studying is more important that coming to my games.  Always.”

“At least I’ll be done soon.”

“Wouldn’t matter.  You could decide to go get your PhD.  School is always more important,” Morgan said.  “You’re gonna, like, rule the world Briony.  You can’t do that with me expecting you to come to all my hockey games.”

She couldn’t help but giggle again.  “If I do become supreme ruler I promise to spare you.”

“Good.  I’ll bow at your feet everyday.”

“You’ll be my Starbucks boy,” she giggled.

“WOW,” he let out loudly, causing her to laugh.  “Is that all I’m good for?  Starbucks runs?” he asked, not expecting an answer.  “You still good to go to the Marleau’s Christmas party?”

She nodded her head.  “It’s the day after exams finish.  I’ll be good.”

“And you’re still spending Christmas with Angie and her family?”  She nodded her head again.  It was her ‘tradition’ to spend Christmas with Angie, whose family had unofficially adopted her for the holiday.  After the Detroit game on the 23rd, Morgan would be catching a red-eye to Vancouver after the game to spend Christmas with his family.  She didn’t want to have to think about him leaving again, but she had solace in the fact that they would be reunited on the 29th, when he’d be back in Toronto for a game against the Islanders.  “I’ll call you,” he assured her.  “We can FaceTime on Christmas.”

“That would be nice,” she smiled.  

“And then, um, in January,” he began, his voice a little bit more hesitant than before.  “We have a bye week.  I was going to go back to Vancouver, spend some time with my family.  I was um…I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come.”

Briony’s body stiffened slightly.  Was…was he really asking her to go to Vancouver with him?  To his hometown?  To meet his parents?  “I’ll have to see if I can afford it.”

“Briony.”

She cringed slightly.  It was her go-to response for everything involving money, but these days, she needed to think of something different because of course he’d be paying for her to go with him.  It would be her first time on an airplane.  “I’d want to Morgan, but I’d have to see.  I might be job hunting or have interviews.”

“But you’d want to come.”

“Well, yeah.”

That was apparently enough for him.  He didn’t say a word more; he just kept a hold on her as his eyelids fluttered closed for his pre-game nap.  

She could only stay in his arms for so long until the ramifications of the conversation she just had crept up on her and left her unable to fall asleep beside him.  Her mind was too active for sleep.  The lengths to which he went to have her recoup everything that she lost was extravagant.  Giving his credit card to a bunch of women with healthy spending habits wasn’t…logical.  Telling them to ‘go crazy’ was crazy in and of itself.  Not blinking twice when he saw all the clothes – the Gap, the Club Monaco, the Loft, the Banana Republic, the every other store she had never shopped in before, the Chanel, the Yves Saint Laurent, the Gucci – was just outrageous.  Right?  Like, any sane person would have seen that closet full of clothes and have said, “I think that’s a bit too much.”  Right?

Why would he do this?  Why would he willingly drop all that money on her?  She was just some girl.  Some girl from Toronto.  There was nothing special about her.  She was nice and she was smart and she worked hard, but she didn’t think there was much else to her.  She could be very stubborn sometimes.  She could be too proud, especially about her education.  She could roll her eyes too often in a conversation.  She could make too many snarky comments during a conversation and put people off.  Why did he do what he did so willingly, without a second thought?  Why was he so…nonchalant about it all?

As she moved out of his arms slowly, ensuring he didn’t wake up, she grabbed her phone out of her pocket and made her way to the bathroom is the second bedroom on the other side of the apartment.  She closed the door and sat on the floor before dialling Angie’s number, whom she knew was on lunch break.  

“Hi lover,” Angie answered cheerily.  

“Angie…he told me,” Bee said.  

“He told you what?” Angie asked nervously.

“He told me he gave you guys his credit card and that everything we bought, he paid for,” her voice was getting shakier the more words she said.  

“Oh.  Yeah,” Angie said.  “I was sworn to secrecy.  Is…” her voice was hesitant.  She knew her best friend was already crying.  “Bee…that’s not a bad thing.  You know that, right?  He’s helping you.”  Angie’s heart broke as she heard her best friend cry through the phone.  The sniffles and the deep breaths and the sobs she had to listen to made her physically ill.  

“He’s so good to me Angie.  Why is he so good to me?”

Bee’s voice was so frail and fragile.  “Bee…”

“Why is he so good to me?” she repeated, tears streaming down her face and sobs escaping her.  “What did I do to deserve this?  Why is he so good to me?”

“You were never meant to live a quiet, docile life,” Angie said in a soothing voice, trying to calm herself as much as she was trying to calm Bee.  “You were born for better circumstances that what you were born in to and what you grew up in.  I just wish you’d see that like everyone else around you sees it.”

“I don’t belong in this world.  Why am I living in an apartment without paying rent?”

“Bee, they’re helping you,” Angie stressed.  “You know if Mason and I had the means we’d be doing everything in our power to help you too.  They’re helping you in the way they know how.  It’s not your problem that they’re using their disposable income to help you.”

“But I’m not…I’m not…”

“Don’t you dare say you’re not worth it,” Angie said firmly.  “I don’t give a fuck what your absolute disgrace of a mother would tell you growing up, but you’re worth every fucking penny, every fucking ounce of effort anyone puts into having a relationship with you.  Do you hear me?  If I ever saw your mother anywhere I would fucking kill her for instilling this sense of worthlessness in you and for making you think like you don’t deserve anything or that you don’t belong somewhere.”

“Angie, I don’t want this without you,” Bee cried.  

“Bee, you’re not losing me.”

“I don’t want to change so much that you don’t recognize me, or I don’t recognize where I came from anymore,” Bee said.  “Money changes people, Angie.  I don’t want it to change me.”

“Money won’t change you, Bee.  You have strong principles.  Just because your boyfriend and his friends have money it doesn’t mean that it’s going to change you.  If anything, it might change him.  Might make him and those around him more grateful.”

“I don’t know…”

“Bee, you’re his girlfriend because of your character.  Everything else is secondary.  He wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t head over heels for you,” Angie explained.  “I know you guys have only been seeing each other a few months, but I’ve never seen you this way with another person.  You have to let go of any insecurities that you have that revolve around him having money and you not having money because that shit doesn’t matter to Morgan.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this.  I don’t know what God or what entity decided to have this become my life,” Bee said.  “I don’t want to lose you Angie.  You’re the only family I have.”

“You’re never going to lose me.  We’re going to be 90 years old with walkers and fake teeth in the same nursing home telling each other the same jokes we laugh about today,” Angie assured her.  “I love you, Bee.  You’re the sister I never had.  I’m never going to leave you.”

“I love you too Angie.  So much you don’t even know.”