#and i hear her over the phone saying what very flatly

[moeblob]

OK I swear the reason I'm showing you this will have context in a couple days! But also, the fact B&N has a section dedicated to "well he may be a ten buuuuut" and included my current crime of "he's blonde" is like. Dang. Called out.

Didn't help I saw this with a guy and I said "oh no, my blonde enjoyer crimes called out!" and he said "better than redheads" and I'm like. "Sir, I have to inform you of my previous crime." and he was not pleased as he said "Fish... why....."

[prael]

Integrity

Newjeans Hanni x male reader smut

Happy Hanni Day!

Masterlist word count: 6,048 Kofi(donations/commissions)

It's a really long way to travel, and doubly so when you get fuck all from it. It's not like you were after anything ground-breaking—it's just a fashion show, after all.

It's about as close as you get to 'phoning it in' as a journalist. A few copy-and-paste interviews to accompany some snapshots of the season's latest designs. A couple hundred words, cut and run. Who wore what dress and who wore it the tightest. You could probably type most of it out on the plane without ever leaving your seat, and the public will still eat it up.

Somewhere over Austria, you mulled over that very fact.

Four days later, somewhere over Hungary, you're scrambling to do exactly that.

The whole thing is going fine. Fine, right up until it isn't. Maybe it's the sound of your fingers on the keys or the pocket of air that rocked the plane in that familiar gut-wrenching way, but her eyes are opening slowly. She's mouthing something, her fingers reaching around behind her, under the thin layer of blankets she is enveloped in.

"Are we there yet?" she murmurs, fishing her phone out of her blanket, sleepiness and all.

"Not even close," you say as flatly as you can, returning to a few words you'd been rolling over in your head for the better part of thirty minutes.

"What are you writing about?" She asks from down on her fully reclined seat that's moonlighting as a bed.

"You," you say with a small laugh, not looking away from your laptop.

"What about me?" Hanni's phone lights up, cutting through the darkness and finally making her face visible. The cabin is in full black-out since it's the middle of the night, and the dividers in first-class keep the two of you isolated.

"Your clothes, mostly. Generic fashion show stuff. Doesn't really matter. I put the names Gucci and Hanni Pham in an article and it sells itself. Instant clicks. S'like... two baits for one fish."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Probably is," you reply, knowing full well that there's little to be proud of in here. It's all surface level after all, since adding the things you know now might raise a few eyebrows. All the investigative journalism you've done over the past few days isn't exactly something you can write about. Though you can't deny it, an article about the beauty mark right below her waistline would probably send the masses into a frenzy.

You can hear her tapping on her screen a few more times, and with the silence in the first-class cabin at night, you find yourself focusing on those sounds more than your writing. Tap. Tap. Tap. Pause. Sigh. Tap. Tap.

"What is it?"

"Can't sleep," comes her whispered reply as she pushes herself up with that strange grunt you often hear her make, propping her pillow against the bulkhead and stretching out.

"Drugs not working?"

She shakes her head. "Not doing much."

"If my typing is too loud I can stop—"

"No, you focus. I'll find something to keep myself distracted." She locks her phone again and disappears into the darkness again, her soft breathing almost inaudible. Minutes go by. You manage a full two paragraphs before hearing her moving in the darkness again.

"Hanni?"

"Shh."

The slow shifting goes on for another few seconds, and in the darkness, you can make out the movement of her blanket as she slides off the chair down to your feet. What hits you next is her fingers reaching into your waistband.

"Hann—"

"Quiet," she whispers back. You quickly pick up the laptop from resting on your lap before her attempts to undress you can send it crashing to the floor. You're quick to place it on her seat and close its cover, out of her reach just in time before she slides your pants down.

She doesn't say anything, just lets you lay there in silence as her fingers guide you into her mouth. It is almost unnerving how used to it you have become in such a short time—how easy it has become for you, a supposed professional, to mix business and pleasure to this degree.

Hanni goes on unperturbed, wetting you between plump lips that trail up and down your length.

There is nothing you can do at this point but give in and just throw your head back. You grow harder under her touch and her tongue and judging by the way she grows more aggressive with her movements, Hanni is starting to enjoy herself as well. You can't quite make out her face, but you already know the look she's wearing. Can practically see it in your mind's eye; the look of wide-eyed desire as she takes you further in, lips rounding out over teeth as she welcomes every inch you give her until her cheeks cave in from sucking.

It's fucking burned into your brain. You've seen it so much, among so many other filthy expressions, you aren't sure if you could ever forget it.

Your hand reaches down blindly in the darkness until it finds the back of her head. The mere fact that the both of you are sitting on this plane hundreds of miles above the ground is instantly forgotten, fading out from consciousness and sense as she holds on, massaging your balls with one hand.

You let yourself lay there like this, fingers tangled in her hair, cock buried in her mouth. The thought of pulling her up and reciprocating is never far from your mind, but her grip on your hips is certain. This is all her right now. She's in charge.

She does not lack the pace to prove it.

Her head bobs up and down in the dark, tongue guiding you further in with every motion, lips slipping further down along your shaft, saliva pooling at your base. Her humming is growing—you can't hear it, but you can feel it. It resonates all the way through you, down the aching hardness she keeps stroking with her tongue, and even further to fuel that tension building in your lower stomach.

"Holy fuck," you curse under your breath, voice catching in your throat, lost in the motion of the plane's droning vibrations and her eager motions.

She pops you from her mouth, stroking your cock with a twist of a wrist and something she is doing with her tongue at the tip. As your eyes begin to adjust, you can see that spit has mixed with precum, dribbling down and over the back of her knuckles. It's lewd and over the top and everything that Hanni Pham, an innocent idol, pretends not to be.

"What? You want me to stop?"

"Fuck no," you whisper back, heart pumping in your ears. The feeling of her strokes, suddenly more controlled and tense without the benefit of her mouth is as jarring as it is fleeting.

"Didn't think so." With that, she brings her head back down to take you in her mouth again, hot breaths hitting the spit-slick surface of your dick. It's dirty and clumsy, messy and wet, and each time she swallows you, your entire body shudders with pleasure, coiling every muscle and feeling it climb upward until your stomach goes tight and you find yourself pushing her down, further, faster, until she is sucking what little air she has.

You are wound tight. Agonising, torturous tension pulling ever outward from your centre with each motion she makes. Every twitch of her tongue—fuck, does she work her tongue—spurs some sort of response down to the very tips of your toes.

It's a complete relapse. Back to four days ago, in the back of the car, with nothing but a divider between you and the driver. Cumming inside Hanni's pretty mouth and feeling her swallow every bit, then going on like nothing happened.

-

There's usually not a lot of enthusiasm for an interview. You have spent the whole morning being shrugged off by star after star after star. To them, they're there to look pretty. To show face and represent their brands. Answers are pre-written garbage to be regurgitated over and over like everyone is sharing the same stupid fucking tongue.

Then there's little miss backless-top. Denim jeans and a shirt with frills that barely keeps her modesty. Big, brown eyes and a smile that fills her whole face. Add her vibrance and energy and she really gets your journalistic gears turning. There's something fresh about her. How when you approach her, she engages you in a conversation like you're an actual person and not just some cardboard cut-out of a journalist.

Hanni Pham knows her shit. It's part of the training. She handles media with all the grace of someone born to do it and the energy of someone who loves it. So not only does she give you answers there and then, but when you make the request to sit down with her later and get all you need to do a whole feature on her, she's quickly turning to the powers that be to make it happen.

She should have been a ten-minute addendum. An hourglass figure strutting and posing and laughing her pretty little ass off for cameras for the adoring public. Instead, Hanni fucking Pham, you've got her. For hours.

So you sit down in a quiet little room you managed to reserve with the company card, and she's right across from you, with two glasses of water and a notepad on a table in an otherwise empty room.

"Is this going to be recorded?" She asks first, though looks sceptical and unprepared.

"Normally, yes. But I would prefer us to be a little more comfortable. I'm going to take notes, that's all."

"I like that." She claps, like there's an imaginary audience watching, even if you're the only one there. "So, what are we covering?"

"Everything. To start," you shift a little closer to the table. "Think of this being more about you rather than what you're wearing."

She gives you a little bit of a quizzical look.

"I know. Fashion show. Just, work with me here. The Gucci brand gets the clicks, I want to introduce those clickers to the girl wearing the clothes."

Hanni nods, her eyes light up a little and you can't help but notice how she is really fucking adorable. Up close, she's even prettier. It throws you off for a second as you bring up the notepad. The blank pages stare up at you—mock you. Where do you even begin?

"We met briefly earlier, and you're standing alongside stars from many industries and the lead designer at Gucci."

"Yes," she smiles politely. "That was exciting. Kind of surreal, really."

"So what does it take to be who you are? A girl of Vietnamese blood, born in Melbourne, working in South Korea and travelling to Europe for fashion shows?"

"Uhm, like, honestly?" She shifts in her seat. "Really a lot of hard work. Endless and stressful and never-ending hard work. You know? From singing and dancing, to the language lessons and the dieting and working out. It needs hard work and, well, a lot of luck too."

"You make your own luck." You nod, before jotting down into your notepad.

She tilts her head in response. "I suppose so. That's very quotable if you want. I made my own luck by working hard."

"And yet you're still young, what, turning twenty?"

"Just." Hanni nods.

"Barely twenty and making waves. Do you still feel like you have so much more to give?"

"Oh fuck yeah," she quickly confirms. "Wait, don't write that down."

"Oh... fuck... yeah." You sound out the words as you pretend to write them in the notepad.

"Hey!" Hanni laughs, and it's beautiful. It fills the room and just makes her glow with warmth. "Cut me some slack."

"Alright. Alright. So is this what you envisioned? Being twenty and being here?"

"You mean in this room with you?"

You laugh too. The jokes come so naturally to her.

"I'm happy where I am, it really was always my dream."

"To be in this room with me?"

"Fuck you," she laughs. "But, in a way, yes. I wouldn't be here if I didn't achieve my dream, would I?"

"That's very true. Then what is next for you?"

"There's no end goal." Hanni tilts her head. You follow her hand as it passes through her hair. She's studying you just like you are studying her. "I don't think I'll ever sit back and say 'that's enough.' That's not who I am."

"Ambitious. The question now is what are you chasing?"

"Is that you asking or the article?"

"Both," you say with a wry smile.

"For the article: I want to tour the world, keep improving and working hard. Release more music."

You scribble down a few notes and then click the top of the pen. "And off the record?"

"To spend a little more time focusing on myself. Time is fleeting. I should try and enjoy it while it lasts."

"You're young, pretty and successful. You have plenty of opportunity to do just that."

"Is that flirting?" she jokes, cocking her brow with a seductive smile.

"I'm just stating facts. I'm married to the truth." You gesture to your notepad. "So let's get back on the record, shall we?"

-

One delayed layover later and you're back in the air, and after your brief break to let Hanni drain you into her throat, you managed to get back to finishing up the article, so for the final stretch, the two of you are lying together in one of the first-class beds, and the conversation kept going.

"How are you single?" she's asking, while you're spooning her.

"Mostly because of my job. Definitely the baggage and constant travelling. Takes a special woman to not hate this."

"Sounds like idol life. I know so many idols who try to date but you just never have the time to see each other. We tour constantly and are always on the road. A long day of practising and comeback planning and comeback filming and comeback rehearsing, and more hours of sleep and eating to prep for the next comeback, you're always too exhausted."

"Such a shame." You lower the blanket that's covering her bare chest. Her breasts fill your palm as you caress them, gently. "A pretty thing like you deserves so much better than empty hotel rooms."

"Flirt," she playfully chastises, pressing her ass to your crotch before sliding forward to give you some friction, grinning at you over her shoulder. "These past few days, all the sex, I'd be lying if I said I couldn't get used to this."

It's a sentiment so heavily shared, that even now you're thinking about how easy it would be to pin her onto her back and mount her. It isn't easy to shake the thought when her body is practically inviting you inside her.

You're asking instead, still exploring her naked form, "How do you overcome the needs?"

"Other ways..." Hanni replies through closed eyes, her cheeks blushing. "Toys. Helps and hurts. They're no real substitute."

You run your hand over her toned stomach, heading between her thighs and gently prying them open. And there she is. Right fucking there, wet and waiting for you. Your finger glides over her lips and runs the full length of her, and she strains to contain a gentle moan. The problem is, Hanni is really fucking loud, and the walls of this pod are paper thin.

"I want you again," she whispers, and it's a real fucking dilemma.

She guides your cock through the folds of her pussy and leans back her head as she takes it. Fuck, it feels so good being back inside her. Wet and tight and made to grip. A small whimper escapes her when you are in deep, which she tries to swallow.

"You gotta be quiet," you tell her, while all but refusing to move inside her.

"I can be quiet," she grinds against you, but you're not convinced, and with a firm grasp of her jaw, you pull her closer.

"Can you?" you speak under her ear. "Can the oh-so-talented Hanni Pham control herself?"

She lets out another trembling little sound of pleasure while pushing herself onto your shaft. "I think so. All I know is you need to—yeah, right there. Yes." She closes her eyes and tries to stifle that deep groan of enjoyment.

You hush her before it gets too loud with a hand over her mouth. Tentatively, you begin moving, an aching slow journey backward and forward. As tight as her cunt is around your dick, the movement becomes easy. Dragging more pleasure from both of you and as she rolls her hips again, grinding against the motion, the whimpering returns.

"Hanni," you scold gently, pushing further into her with each stroke. "Shhh."

She mouths an 'I can't' into your hand which elicits a laugh from you and turns a smirk into a smile. You're rutting against her ass, savouring the feeling of your hips hitting her soft flesh. Ample curves along with a narrow waist begging you to embrace her. A pretty little thing taking all your cock and urging you on. It's hard not to go harder. "Need you."

"Careful what you wish for," you whisper as she tries to lean back her head in bliss.

Her tongue brushes your knuckles, and the soft sweep feels like a warm, wet invitation to probe further. A few seconds of uncertainty follows, and then her mouth closes around the tips of your fingers and starts to suck. Sharing the same excitement that has gotten the better of you the past few days of endless debauchery.

You sink your fingers deeper. She sucks harder, her moans stifled behind her pursed lips. Anywhere but here and you would throw her face down on the mattress, fuck her into a state of bliss. Make her beg for you and claw the bedsheets. Such an innocent girl, a girl who should have stayed wrapped in silk and lace, but who demands you take her, just a moment longer, just a bit rougher, and how can you refuse a beauty like that?

Just as Hanni settles and relaxes, her body is dragged into tense peaks of delight. Tiny gasps leak from around your fingers as you thrust deeper. She chokes as she orgasms, digging her nails into the arm that is holding her close, her face going bright pink. Sweat on her temples, on her chest. An earthly aroma of wet skin and hot breaths. She swears and curses the pleasure as you pump your orgasm between her thighs.

You fill her. For a while, you are one, grinding together in mutual fulfilment, breathing heavily and lost in your actions. The mess you're making runs from her sweet cunt, down her thigh, onto the bed.

The rush leaves the both of you exhausted. Hanni does nothing to resist you pulling out and emptying the last few drops over her ass. It is all over as quick as it began. It comes with a strange realisation of how natural it all feels to cum inside Hanni Pham.

-

It's not often that someone you interview not only takes your card, but doesn't immediately throw it away, and actually uses the number on there. You're in the back of a cab when it rings. Today's show has just about finished and while you didn't quite manage to snag another interview like the one you did with Hanni, it has been a good day.

"Did you get enough to write about?" is the first question she asks when you answer.

"I got a few bits here and there. Some surface-level stuff from others, but you gave me the marquee piece. I'll fluff up what I have with the spec sheets released and I'm sure it'll be a nice little exclusive."

"That makes me sound important," she giggles.

"You're a fucking celebrity, of course you are important."

"No need to swear."

"Apologies." There's a momentary pause. You let it linger on the call and soon enough, Hanni's laugh fills the silence.

"I'm kidding. Keep up that energy,"

"So, why are you calling? Usually, when I get a call it's to recant some statement or explain a misquote. Did I make a mess of something?"

"Well, not yet. But I have some ideas."

"Ideas?" You repeat, brows raising.

"Where are you now?" she asks, and for a moment you wonder if you shouldn't be answering.

"Taxi. Headed back to the place I'm staying."

"Where are you staying?" It's a strange question for her to ask, you think. Or maybe, it's not strange at all, but timing and circumstance have you considering the way it sounds.

"A hotel."

"Look to your right," she says, making a confusing request, but you look. Of course, you do. Outside the window, in the next lane over, stuck in the very same traffic as you are, is a familiar face. She gives you the widest grin, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Are you following me?" you joke.

"Do you want me to?" There's something playful in her voice, an attempt at seduction that's not exactly subtle.

"Hanni, what are—"

"Just answer the question," she interrupts.

And that's it. There's no reason to evade the truth. Lying to yourself gets no one anywhere. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Good," she murmurs, "you know, I'm still wearing the same outfit as I was at the event. These jeans are getting really uncomfortable." She pulls the phone away from her ear for a second and you hear her call out, "Driver? See that taxi on our left? Follow it, please. And can I get some privacy back here?"

There are some distant sounds from the other side of the phone. An affirmation of orders. Then her voice is right back with you.

"As I was saying, these jeans are really uncomfortable."

"Fashion can hurt," you say flatly.

"You're supposed to tell me to take them off or something. You're not very good at this are you?"

"I didn't realise 'this' is what we were doing." You've developed a stupid fucking smile, even if it's going unseen.

"Hmm, it can be." There is a moment of quiet as if she's thinking. "Hold on a second," Hanni says. There are some vague sounds you can't make out before she comes back to the phone. "Got bored of waiting. Now, keep talking will you? I like the sound of your voice."

"Hanni, what—"

"Just keep talking. Tell me what you think of me." She can't see it, but the look of confusion must be shining bright on your face. At a loss, and under duress, you speak your mind.

"Well, you seem nice." It's a weak first effort. "Very funny, a little confident. You must know you're pretty. Young, but driven." The words you mumble are stilted, but telling the truth.

"Really. You think I'm pretty?"

"Yeah."

"Not sexy?"

"Hanni, you're fucking sexy."

"Thanks," her laugh is like bells, ringing through the car. "That's better. What did you think of my outfit?"

"Daring. Not often do I see an idol go completely backless. Risky."

"Sometimes a risk is worth taking."

"Seems so."

"Tell me more. Tell me what was the part you liked the most?" Her voice drops from that relaxed confidence to a pitch that has your head buzzing with possibility.

"Nice waist. Really looked good with the way those jeans hugged your hips."

There's a long, heavy breath from the other end of the line. Something rustling and then a deep gasp from Hanni.

"What's happening?"

"Nothing. Keep talking. Describe me to me." Her voice is fraught with need, a small tremble in each word.

"Okay." That was permission, or demand, whichever is. You swallow before continuing. "Backless was a good choice. Your bare skin looks great. I'm sure those pictures are going viral already. Betting they are all over the web, all over people's phones."

"Are we close to your hotel?" Hanni strains out the question as if it were hard to say, every syllable wrought in pain.

"Close."

"Good, are you excited?"

"To?"

"See more of my bare skin."

Fuck. The image floods your mind like a dam breaking. Suddenly, she's right there, unclothed and naked and spread open. Suddenly, she's right there, moaning in pleasure, your cock lodged deep inside her.

"Yes," you groan into the phone. It's a painful admission. "Really, Hanni. Really fucking excited."

"So tell me, what are you excited to see?"

"Your ass. Love the way you wore the jeans just a little too tight. Really framed it."

She whispers, "That's all? Anything else, anything special you wanted to see?"

"Your breasts. Like what the top does. Would like to pull it down and play with those breasts." This whole thing is obscene. You're shamelessly spilling your desire to a girl you just met and she's loving every second of it.

Another soft gasp is heard on the call. It's more than that, it's her panting, short snatches of breath as her little gasps become regular, heated and urgent. "And then what?"

"That's a surprise. We're here." The cab pulls up and her car pulls in behind you.

"Room number?"

"Oh-one-two-two," you say, handing over cash to pay the driver and stepping out. "See you there."

-

It's deep into the night now, and her back is pressed against the wall as you're kissing down her neck. For a young woman who looks ever so innocent, you're quickly learning the taste of her body could have the alcohol industry aflame. She's intoxicating and you're addicted. Lips sucking, teeth pressing lightly against tender flesh.

She told you to not wear a condom, not this time. She described your first load as a waste, a sinful injustice after all the things she had done to wring it from you. So now you're back inside her, thinking only of how you're going to decorate her this time, about the moment you can't hold back any longer and cum, uninhibited, spewing mess over her delicate, flawless little body.

So you're just fucking nailing Hanni against the wall, her leg pulled up and knee hooking around your elbow. Holding her there, pounding her cunt the best you possibly can. Her hands scratch deep lines into your back, and her fingernails leave dull aches along your spine. There's something primal in the way she's urging you to fuck her harder, stronger, faster. She wants all of you, just like you want all of her.

You lift her other leg and hold her there, folded against the drywall. The steady pounding begins to churn her insides, to break her fragile body to the rhythm. She's mewling a mixture of sounds in your ear. Begging. Incoherent sounds of need. Then you feel her cunt clenching and tightening, a sudden strength to the grip she has on your shaft.

Hanni screams your name, howling it at the ceiling and the walls while you drive her ever deeper through an orgasm that's torn apart her expression. Utter beauty, sheer excellence. Her quivering pleasure comes with warmth between the two of you. She cums so hard that she goes limp in your arms. Your legs really begin to strain as you pump her full of cock, and her lips find yours again.

Your kisses are savage, the gnashing of teeth and the crush of lips. She's asking for more. Demanding more.

So you throw her to the bed, turning her over and she instinctively drags herself to her knees. Her palms run to the edge of the bed, clawing the blankets as you climb behind her.

"Do you like my ass?" She breathes. Your grip finds the firm flesh with purpose.

"Love your ass," you mutter, taking a hold and angling her towards you.

"Then fuck me." Hanni arches deep, pushing her soft ass in the air and pressing her tits against the mattress. She backs right up to you, begging to be fucked, once more.

The penetration is perfect. Balls deep inside this horny little girl, grabbing a fistful of her hair and using it as leverage. It's hard, it's fast, it's a brutal rut. A sweaty, wet fuck driven by nothing but raw need. She's too wet, too accommodating, clapping herself against your pelvis, meeting your every thrust.

It's not the time to think. Simply let instinct take over. Leaning into it and fucking her.

More words spill from her mouth. More dirty, lewd praises that have your balls aching. It won't be long now. Every muscle, straining with effort, pulls taut. It's such a fucking trip. This once innocent-looking person sucking the life right from the core of your being, bending over for you to force a hand along her spine and bend her further.

"Cum on me," she whimpers again and again. Over and over. She's pleading with you. "Please, cum on me. On my back. Cover me."

There's no further thought, no plan, no point of focus. Everything narrows down to the slick friction around your shaft, and your stomach starting to become strained from the endless effort. To how her ass shakes as your fuck yourself to the edge and how she cranes her neck to watch you.

At the very last moment, you draw out of her and jerk yourself, quick and urgent motions of your wrist. Hanni's knees give way and she lies flat, looking back and watching you as you start to cover her.

The first spurts land high, just beneath her hair. They collect and pool before forming and dripping forward along her shoulder blades. The next spreads across her shoulders. A thin coating that has you shiver as it lands. It goes on and on until you're slathering her in thick lines and ropes.

Something about the sight is so fitting, so delectable, as she lays there and writhes with need, adoring the feeling of being bathed in your lust.

Her expression is an aphrodisiac as she cries out in ecstasy. Her tongue runs across her lips, and then she lets out a soft lass before crashing her face into the soft bedsheets with a moan. Your fist is still pumping rope after rope of cum across her until every muscle feels drained, and you manage to collapse beside her on the bed. You trace a finger across her smooth, plump ass as you catch your breath.

"This is the life," Hanni gasps. "If I could just have endless sex, the world would be a far happier place."

-

You could have been forgiven for thinking it would be a one-off. Just one night of wild sex together before going your separate ways and never speaking again. A nice memory of a beautiful girl to always sit fondly at the back of your mind.

But the very next night, you're in her hotel bathroom. Sharing a bath together, her back pressed flush to your front. You can't fucking resist running a hand between her thighs, working gently over her cunt to hear the wonderful noises she makes.

"Please," she whispers over and over, grinding against your touch.

Ordinarily, you might tease her, and have her beg a little more, but there's nothing more enthralling than the sounds and sights of Hanni's face when she cums. So instead, you're knuckle deep with two fingers and curling them into her cunt, hitting that magic spot just a little more, faster and faster.

On the brink of her second orgasm in ten minutes, Hanni draws a noisy, shuddering breath, the exhalation quickly becoming a sharp, high-pitched wail that fills the bathroom, her eyes glaze as she climaxes. "Fuck. I—that's—more." Her head falls backwards and rests on your shoulder, "yeah, more."

Hanni's petite frame writhes in orgasm. Back arched, panting breaths quickly turning to gasps for air. Eyes flutter and roll backwards before shutting entirely. Every muscle in her tight cunt grips your fingers as waves of pleasure pour from deep inside. She grinds on you, riding the sensation of your touch through the spasms until they finally slow.

"You're so fucking cute when you cum," you kiss her cheek.

It's the compliment that has her rising from the water, she stands in front of you, her wet ass and thighs dripping as she turns toward you. "Me? Cute?" She smirks, lowering herself onto your thighs, resting your cock against her pussy. "Am I really?"

"Cutest fucking thing."

She guides your cock to her wet pussy, sinking down and slowly filling herself, the both of you making a whimper at the sensation. She's in no rush, though. She prefers slow, she favours long, lingering motions where you're all the way inside her and stay there for just a few moments before climbing once more.

Her rhythm has you melting back against the bath. Long, even strokes have her ass lifting and sinking, and she rolls her hips so elegantly that it's natural to reach for her waist and run your hands along her curves.

"I hope you don't think I'm easy," Hanni whispers, her fingers grabbing the hair on the back of your head, locking her hot body against yours, keeping you close, wrapping around you. "But I'm twenty and sex-deprived, so deal with it."

"You're allowed to enjoy sex. Nothing wrong with that," you answer through closed eyes, focusing only on the heat, the skin, the feeling of your cock rubbing through her.

With a mischievous chuckle, she rests her weight on you. Chest to chest, nose against nose.

"Careful," she whispers, her voice fluttering in between soft sighs of excitement. "I could get used to having a man around. Someone willing to get me off, over and over again. You might be stuck with me. Wouldn't that be scandalous? A reporter who's secretly fucking a star like me?"

That alluring, seductive voice makes your body tense. Her kiss threatens to undo you right then and there. She's riding you harder now, bouncing her ass in your lap. Driving the pleasure, the friction, harder and deeper.

"I have a confession to make," you speak with heavy breaths, trying to restrain yourself. "I think I could get used to this. Every day. If I could."

"It's a deal then. How about we celebrate by letting you blow a load inside me? Would you like that?" She nibbles at your earlobe, giggling as she sucks it between her lips. "How good would it feel to feel your hot, thick cum slide all the way up inside me?"

"So fucking good."

"And maybe tomorrow I'll keep you inside me and let you fill me all over again, and maybe I'll do the same the day after." There's a devilish smile across her face as she continues, "I'll ride you again and again and again..."

She keeps repeating it, the word stamped into your head over and over and each time she says it, she drives her hips down into you. Hard. The water ripples. Her ass slaps the tops of your thighs. It's a relentless rhythm, an insistent grind, a desperate desire for more.

"You're filthy," you tell her as you take a firm grip on her ass, her flesh filling your grasp and the muscles rippling through her skin as she moves.

"Maybe. Maybe I am, and maybe you like it." She laughs. A sound as sweet as honey.

"You know I do."

"Then show me how much. Fill me. Let it go."

That's all you need, just her words and the way she fucks you. She's the one doing all the work, and it's all the reason you need to relax and let the bliss consume you.

Hanni is kissing you when it hits. She swallows your groans of release, sucking them into her lungs. Her hands press down into your shoulders, nails sinking deep into your skin.

She doesn't stop moving, not once. Keeps grinding. She maintains the pace until you can't take any more. Until there's nothing left. Only then does she ease her motion, settling onto your lap, keeping you deep in her.

"That was amazing," she sighs.

"Fucking was."

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Dad!Yang Jeongin x F!Reader TW : kidnapping ; arguing ; angst ; happy ending ; slightly suggestive at the end as well ; Word Count : 4.2k Request : nope, but I really wanted to write a part 2 for Innie! A/N : this is the last last one (aside from Hyunjin and Jisung who will get a part 3 at some point, but like, the actual series ends with my fav.)

“You said it was my day to pick Jeongsoo up from school, right?” Jeongin asked as he stood outside of the building, waiting for his daughter to run up to him like she usually would whenever she saw him in the crowd of other parents. It was his favorite part of the day, finally being able to see his daughter after working so hard. Today was supposed to be no different, but in the sea of other children, his daughter was nowhere to be found. “Did you already get her? Maybe you just forgot to tell me but-” 

“I didn’t get her. It’s your day. Is she still in the building? It’s cold outside so… Maybe she just decided to stay in and wait?” He could already hear the panic in your voice, and he wanted nothing more than to ease your worried mind, but he himself was beginning to panic as well. “I’m heading up there now, I’ll meet you in like, 5 minutes.” You said before ending the call, and now Jeongin was left to swim in his own thoughts, at least until you got there. 

The crowd slowly began to thin as parents took their children home, but Jeongin still stood there, hoping to see his baby girl standing there. She wasn’t though, and the sound of children laughing and playing faded out until all Jeongin heard was the wind whistling through the empty branches of the trees. “Excuse me!” He called when he saw Jeongsoos teacher start to lock up the classroom door. She turned with a smile, although she looked slightly confused. “Where is Jeongsoo? I’m here to pick her up and she’s not here…” 

She tilted her head, even more confused now. “Jeongsoos aunt picked her up. She said that Y/N wasn’t able to pick her up today. I thought that Y/N would have let you know.” Her teacher said, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. “I’m very sorry for the confusion.” But Jeongin was left even more worried than before as he shook his head, stepping in front of the teacher as she started to walk off. 

“N-No, no… Jeongsoos aunt doesn’t live here. There’s no way that she could have been picked up by her.” Jeongin stammered, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone so that he could call you just to be sure. “Did you even check her ID? Did you even verify what she was saying? How could you have been sure that she was actually Jeongsoos aunt? Do you just let kids go off with anyone who says they’re related?” 

The teacher's eyes widened as she began to stutter, unable to even form a coherent sentence as her head shook rapidly. Thankfully you pulled up just at that moment, rushing out of your car to run over to Jeongin. “What’s… What’s going on? What happened? Where’s my baby?” You asked breathlessly, and now the teacher looked even more upset, even more scared than she had been before. 

“I’m… I’m so sorry. I’ll call the authorities, I’ll… I’ll do whatever I can to help. I’m-” She was crying, and with the lack of information that you had been given, you were more worried than before, looking to Jeongin for answers that you so desperately needed. 

“We have to go.” He said flatly, his heavy breaths were coming out shaky, but you didn’t have time to ask any questions as he ushered you back to your own car, although he opened the passenger door for you instead of letting you get in the driver's side. “I need you to call the security team, I need you to tell them that it’s an emergency. I need you to call management, see if they’ve gotten any calls or anything about Jeongsoo. And then I need you to call the guys to see if they’ve gotten any weird messages. Can you do that?” He asked, fishing his phone out of his back pocket and tossing it onto your lap. 

“Why? What’s going on?” You asked, but you didn’t wait for an answer as you started scrolling through his contacts to find everyone that he had asked you to get in touch with. 

Jeongin shook his head, his fingers gripping the steering wheel as he sped down the streets back towards your house. “This wouldn’t have happened if we were together…” He mumbled, impatiently drumming his fingers on the wheel as he waited for the light to turn green. “You’re so busy going out on your dates, trying to find someone so that you’re not lonely… You don’t even care about her… You’re so fucking selfish you don’t even see that you have someone right fucking here! Now my baby has been fucking stolen from me and… It’s your fucking fault!” 

“Are you seriously gonna try to fucking blame me for this shit?!” You shouted, and deep down you both knew that the last thing that was needed right now was for a major argument to happen, but emotions were running high, you both were terrified, and you were taking it out on each other. “I bet it was one of your crazy ass fucking fans! You’re always posting pictures with her on your Instagram even though I told you not to! Or it could have been one of the multitudes of girls that you sleep around with trying to get closer to you!” 

“For the last fucking time, I don’t do that shit anymore!” He shouted right back, whipping around a corner, and even though he was absolutely furious right now, his arm still flew out to hold you against the seat. Even when he was pissed, he still cared about you way too much for his own good. “You’re the one going out on dates every other fucking night! You’re barely even with her! And then you bring these random ass strangers back to the house and you think I don’t know what’s going on?! How do you know it wasn’t one of those assholes who did it?!” 

“That’s absolutely absurd!” The shouting match continued back and forth until Jeongins phone started to vibrate on your lap, and you immediately answered it, putting it on speaker phone so that he could hear as well. “Hello?” You rushed out the greeting, waiting for someone to say something. 

“Hi mom! Hi dad!” Jeongsoos voice came through the speaker, and you felt your heart sink. The car swerved to the side of the road and Jeongin grabbed his phone off your lap so he could talk directly into it. 

“Hey baby, where are you at right now? Who are you with? Let daddy and mommy talk to them, yeah?” Jeongin said urgently, his hands shaking as he gripped the phone tightly. No matter how angry he made you, no matter how angry you made him, right now all you had was each other, and you reached out to grab his free hand that was shaking nervously, giving it a small squeeze to try to calm him. 

“She say she know you and mom… She gave me ice cream… She’s really nice.” Jeongsoo said, her innocent mind completely unaware of how dangerous this entire situation was, how scared you and Jeongin were. “I wanna go home… I wanna watch a movie with you and mom… Can you come here?” She asked, and Jeongins head fell against the headrest, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips pulled into a thin line. 

“Me and mommy are trying… We’re trying to come get you…” He practically whimpered, sniffling loudly between each sentence. “Tell me… What do you see? Do you see anything outside, baby?” He was pleading, his grip on your hand tightening as he waited for Jeongsoos response, but she didn’t talk again, your daughter’s voice being replaced by someone much older created a pit in both yours and Jeongins stomach. 

“We’ll be in touch later. I can’t wait to meet you, Innie!” A shrill voice rang through the speakers, and while you would have looked at this as a victory in any other circumstance considering you had been right, you were far too worried about your daughter, whose whereabouts were still unknown, and the call had been ended and you couldn’t even redial the number. 

“You can say it…” Jeongin mumbled as he continued driving, one hand on the wheel and the other balled into a fist that was pressed against his temple. “Just say it. I know you want to… You were right… It’s my fault. It’s because of who I am… If you had had her with someone else… Someone normal… You wouldn’t be going through this right now.” The setting sun glistened on the tear that rolled down his cheek, a tear that you quickly wiped away as you shook your head. 

“I wouldn’t have wanted to have her with anyone else. You’re an amazing father… And I know that you love her. You love her more than any father could ever love a child… That’s why I know we’re going to find her, and we’re gonna get her back.” Your palm rested against his cheek for a moment as your thumb brushed along his tear-dampened skin. “We’re gonna bring her home.” 

///

It had been two days since your daughter had been taken. The police were involved, trying to trace every single phone call that came through, but it all seemed to lead back to nowhere. The calls were always untraceable, and every time the number was called back, it would say it was out of service. The only thing giving you and Jeongin hope anymore were the untraceable calls where you’d both get to talk to your daughter, it was the only time that you knew she was still okay. 

“We’re starting to believe that whoever did this, might be someone that she knows.” The cops explained as they listened back to the recording of the phone call. “She doesn’t sound scared, she doesn’t sound like she’s being forced to do or say anything that she’s saying. As crazy as it might sound, this might be someone closer to you both, or one of you… But I don’t think that this person, whoever it may be, I don’t think they plan on hurting her.” And while that was a massive weight lifted off both of your shoulders, it now begged the question of, who the hell was doing this? 

“Are you able to hear if there’s anyone in the background talking? Are you able to isolate the sound? Maybe we can hear someone, or something that would give us a sign of who she’s with or where she’s at?” Jeongin asked, running low on ideas of things to do that would help. He didn’t want to just sit around and wait though, he wanted to help, he wanted to get his little girl home as soon as possible. 

The front door was pushed open as you and Jeongin leaned around the computer that the officer was working at, trying to listen back to the call as the sound was edited and then re-edited to try to pick up any kind of background noise. “What the hell is going on here?” The voice asked from the doorway, and when your head whipped around, you were met with the sight of the guy you had been seeing for the past 2 weeks standing in the corridor with flowers in his hand. 

“Minjae, I told you that right now was not a good time.” You hissed, and from the corner of your eye you saw Jeongin make a face of both annoyance and disgust. “I’m really busy right now, there’s an emergency, and I don’t have the time for this.” You tried to explain as you got up from your chair and went over to stand in front of him. “I’ll explain it all when I have the time to, but… I just really don’t want to talk about it right now.” 

“If it’s so important then why didn’t you tell me? I thought I was your boyfriend… I mean… Why would you tell him and not me?” He motioned to Jeongin who was getting more and more irritated with each passing second, his long fingers drumming on the table top, and you knew that if you didn’t get Minjae out of the house soon, Jeongin would end up going off on him. 

“I really think that you should just go and I’ll talk to you about it later. Please…” You whispered, trying to keep calm, but you were getting more and more upset, especially considering every second wasted on him was a second that could have been put towards finding your daughter. “I need you to go now.” 

“Why? So you can have date night with your baby daddy?” Minjaes voice raised in volume and he threw the bouquet of flowers down at your feet causing you to jump back. “You’re just a bitch! You used me! Well… See if I care! He’ll just use you again! Don’t try to come back to me either! He can have your used up, pathetic, single mom, trashy ass!” 

Behind you, both the officer and Jeongin had stood up from their chairs, ready to move at any second just in case this guy put his hands on you, and for the most part, other than his ranting, things were fine. Jeongin knew well enough that you could hold your own, but when this guy started insulting you, Jeongin didn’t care for the officer that was still in the room, he didn’t care about the charges that might be placed against him. Anger coursed through him as he walked across the room and pushed Minjae up against the door, his forearm pressed against Minjaes throat as he pinned him against the door. 

“You don’t talk about her like that! Never talk about her like that! You don’t know her! You don’t deserve her!” Jeongin screeched into Minjaes face, his arm pressing deeper and deeper into the man’s neck. “You’re not worth the time that’s being wasted on you! You’re not worth anything!” The whole time he was shouting, Jeongins other hand was raised in a fist, and the officer had rushed over to attempt to pull Jeongin away, but it was proving to be pointless. “I don’t want you around her! Don’t come here!” 

Through it all, the man simply laughed in Jeongins face, although the sound came out strained due to the pressure on his throat. “You’ll see me again…” Minjae said, the sneer on his face far more menacing and downright eerie than you had ever seen on anyone before. “I’ve already gotten what I wanted from her anyway, she’s useless to me.” And those words in themselves had Jeongin reaching a point of wanting to commit murder, and the only thing keeping him from actually doing it was the fact that the officer was right there and he wanted to find his daughter. 

When the officer was finally able to pull Jeongin off of Minjae, he was practically pushed out of the door, leaving you and Jeongin alone momentarily as you waited for the officer to come back. “What did he mean by that? Did you fuck him?” He asked, his eyes narrowing at you and if you weren’t so shaken up by the previous interaction between him and Minjae, you would have been defensive, but instead you were just upset at the accusation. 

“No! I’ve never slept with him! I haven’t been with anyone in that way…” You pleaded, trying to declare your innocence, although you weren’t sure why it really mattered to Jeongin in the first place. “I thought he was trying too hard… He would always bring gifts over for Jeongsoo… And he’d tell me that he was really excited to be her dad one day…” Your head shook, but Jeongin was deep in his thoughts, weirded out beyond belief by what he was hearing. 

Before Jeongin could even respond though, the officer returned, motioning for the both of you to follow him over to the computer. “I have officers following him to wherever he’s going right now.” He said, and you wondered if it was because he heard what you had told Jeongin, but then he pulled the headphones out of the port so the three of you could listen to the audio file from the very last phone call you had gotten. “The voice in the background… There’s two, but listen… It sounds familiar, doesn’t it?” He asked, and then he started playing the file, and you felt your heart drop as you listened to the conversation that sounded so faint, but so clear through the laptop speakers. 

“You said that he’d come here to get her! Why is it taking so long?! Where’s the money at? When are we supposed to get it!?” The female voice that came first was screaming, although during the phone call you hadn’t heard it at all, and it seemed like Jeongsoo wasn’t phased by it either. You could only suspect that it was happening from a couple rooms over and Jeongsoo wasn’t too worried about it. 

“Well I can’t tell them to just bring the money here! Do you want to go to jail?! Cause’ I sure as hell don’t!” The man shouted back, and it didn’t take more than a second for you to place the voice, to envision a face with it, especially after what had just happened. Your eyes widened as you looked to Jeongin who seemed to be going through the five stages of anger and grief all at the same time. 

“Well you’re the one pretending to date the bitch, and it’s been two nights since we took the spoiled brat and you haven’t even attempted anything. You haven’t even gone over to see her! At least pretend like you’re interested still. Maybe you can help them find the kid!” The woman continued, and you felt sick, physically sick. You pushed yourself away from the table, running to the kitchen sink and practically flinging yourself over it. You hadn’t eaten much the past two days, so you just heaved, and it was the most painful thing. 

“It’s not your fault…” Jeongin whispered, his sudden appearance beside you had gone unheard, but he was rubbing your back soothingly as he held your hair away from your face. “I don’t… I’ll never blame you for this… No one would have thought this would happen…” He continued to murmur to you as you tried to catch your breath, and once you did, you fell against him. His arms wrapped around you tightly and his lips ghosted across the top of your head as he continued. “We need to go now though… We need to get our baby back…” 

Both you and Jeongin were far too worked up to drive, so you had opted to ride in the back of the officer's car as he raced through the streets to get to where your daughter was found. The ones that had been sent to follow Minjae had been led straight to the house where she was being held. The radio in the car had constant updates crackling through the speakers, and while you were just barely listening, focusing more on the thought that you’d soon be reunited with your daughter, you had heard them say that Minjae and a female had been placed into custody. 

When the car pulled up, you were practically blinded by the lights of the multitude of other police cars on the street, but through the lights, you spotted the silhouette of a man holding a little girl, and you knew that it was your little girl. Jeongins hand that had been holding yours the entire car ride was pulled away as he jumped out of the car before it had even come to a complete stop, and you did the same, both of you running to the officer to see your daughter. 

“Daddy! Momma!” Jeongsoos voice was filled with excitement as she wiggled free from the officers arms and ran across the sidewalk towards you and Jeongin, and the only reason you didn’t pick her up was because Jeongin had reached her first, and now she was being held tightly to his chest and spun around by him. “Why you take so long?” She asked, and Jeongin simply shook his head, refusing to put her down as he looked at you, his smile both sad and relieved at the same time. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetie…” You whispered, running your hand over her hair, trying your best to hold it together in front of her. “We’re gonna go home, and everything is gonna be okay… You’re okay now, sweetie.” You continued, and as if you were the one who needed to be comforted, Jeongsoo held out one of her arms and pulled you closer to her and Jeongin. 

“It’s okay, Momma… You not have to cry. I’m okay.” She reassured you, patting your shoulder and sighing softly. She didn’t know how scared you and Jeongin had been, she probably didn’t even know what was going on at all. She was sassy, she had a fiery attitude when she needed to, but she was also selfless and sweet, she was an angel in the eyes of you and Jeongin.

The officer that had been with you and Jeongin almost the entire time finally came over to where the three of you were after the other patrol cars drove off, carrying with them the two people that had stolen your entire world. “There’s going to be a court date, we do not expect Jeongsoo to be there, we don’t expect the both of you to be there, but at least one of you have to show up. Jeongsoo already very kindly told one of the other officers everything that happened, and I want you to know that she is okay. This was simply a scheme to make money, which is awful, but it could have been far worse.” You and Jeongin nodded your heads, but neither of you wanted to think about what you knew he was talking about. “I’ll get the three of you back home, and I’ll be in touch with you to let you know when the court date will be, okay?” 

///

Jeongsoo was fast asleep in her room, and you and Jeongin stood in the hallway just outside her door, neither of you wanting to have her out of your sights. The fear of losing her would stay with the both of you forever, but for now, it was like you needed that constant visual reminder that she was home, that you did get her back. 

“I know… It’s not my place to tell you that you can’t date anyone.” Jeongin mumbled, leaning against the wall of the hallway, his head hung low as he crossed his arms over his chest. “But, at least let me meet him or something… Before he meets Jeongsoo. I can’t handle something like this happening again… I just can’t.” 

You swallowed thickly, nodding your head. “I don’t want to date anyone else… I don’t want to be with anyone else… I can’t go through something like this again either and… and you don’t deserve to go through this again just because of me.” Sniffles sounded out so softly they almost got lost in the drifting sound of Jeongsoos quiet snores, but Jeongin heard it, Jeongin heard you. 

“It’s not your fault, baby…” He cooed, but the pet name had you slowly lifting your head to look at him, and usually he’d back track, say you misheard him, or he’d just change the subject completely as his entire face turns a bright shade of red. Not this time though, he was tired of losing you, and he had gone through this entire shit show because he was too much of a coward to ask you before. Not again. “I love you, and I love the perfect little girl that we made together. I don’t want to lose her again, and I don’t want to lose you to someone else. I know I made mistakes, I know that I’ve been the biggest piece of shit in the past… But seeing you with those other guys… Seeing you walk out that door to go out on those stupid dates… I can’t take it anymore. So just… Kiss me once and maybe you’ll feel something. Maybe you’ll feel the way I’m feeling. But if you don’t, we can forget about it and everything that I’ve said and-“ 

Your fingers gripped his shirt as you pulled him towards you, your lips crashing together in a kiss that it felt like you had been waiting forever to have. “You talk too much…” You murmured against his lips, the corners of yours pulling up into a little smirk. “So is this you asking me out or…?” 

Jeongin rolled his eyes, his hands roaming along your curves until he stopped at your hips, giving them a light squeeze that had you wiggling and your body burning up. “If I had a ring I’d be asking you to marry me right now, so yes… I am asking you out…” He stepped closer, his body pressing against yours and basically pinning you against the wall. “Are you saying yes?” 

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[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

A Chance - Part 2^

Part 2 of this fic where Harry and Y/N are co-workers and he's trying to win her over but she doesn't really like him.

Series Master List

Warnings: argument, gossiping, insecurity, alcohol consumption. It's angsty to start but ends super fluffy!

WC: 7.6K

After your impromptu sleep over with Harry you were feeling a little self-conscious. You’d never really been bold like you had been with him, but he seemed to be acting quite normally. He wasn’t being overly affectionate or trying to remind you of what had happened the night before, so maybe he just wanted to forget it. So you made no mention of it either as you drove him back to his car on your way to work. You were so in your head about everything at the moment, you hadn’t even greeted Adam when you got into your cubicle. After about 20 minutes of only hearing the satisfying little clacks of you typing away and the occasional clearing of your throat, he got a little worried and decided to check on you. You could be grouchy some of the mornings but you were never discourteous.

“Hey, are you alright?” Adam asked as he peered over the divider between your cubicles. You were hunched over your desk as you typed into your document with a concentrated furrow in your brow, your eyes dead as they stayed fixed on the screen. There was a second too long of silence before you responded.

“What did you say?” You asked as you sat up straight all of a sudden looking back to normal as your gaze met his.

“I asked if you’re alright.” He repeated.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” You asked.

“You just haven’t said anything since you got here like 20 minutes ago. Was looking forward to your gripe of the morning.” He said with a friendly smile and you tossed your head back as you let out the most genuine laugh he had ever seen you have. You looked happy, dare he say. And you wore your joy very well. He admired the way your eyes were crinkled in a way he’d never seen before and he was suddenly very aware of how beautiful you were.

“My gripe of the morning means that much to you?” You asked through your laughter and he nodded.

“It really does, Y/N.” He said honestly and you smiled.

“Well, it’s…” you paused as you recalled how perfectly pedestrian things had been between you and Harry this morning. As if you hadn’t spent hours of your night flirting with each other. As if he hadn’t asked you what would happen if he kissed you? The way it messed with her head was her gripe of the morning. “…it’s this. My brain is being kind of weird today.” You explained and he hummed.

“I might have a solution.” He said.

“Go on…”

“Caffeine.” He stated with a smile and you rolled your eyes playfully, “Let’s walk to the cafe? My treat.” He offered and you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion.

“What’s going on? Now you’re being weird.”

“Nothing I’m just…suddenly in a really good mood.” He shrugged.

“Alright.” You agreed and stood from your desk. You both moved out of your cubicles and you grabbed your ‘on break’ magnet and pasted it on the metal part of the door. You two started walking off and made some small talk as you got into the lift. Just as you made it out onto the lobby Harry was walking into the building.

“Do you mind if I invite him along?” He asked and you just shook your head and he smiled, “Harry!” Adam called out and he glanced up from his phone.

“Hey mate!” He greeted him with a smile.

“You just getting in?”

“Yeah, I had some car trouble.” He explained and Adam frowned, “Nothing too complicated thankfully.”

“Good, good. Well we’re just heading to the cafe if you want to tag along.” He offered.

“Might as well, I said I’d be an hour late…” he chuckled and Adam laughed along and you smiled. He then turned to you and smiled timidly, “Morning, Y/N. It’s nice to see you today.” He said ultra politely and your eyebrows creased at how odd he was being.

“What the fuck?” Adam chuckled.

“Hi Harry.” You said flatly, “Let’s just get coffee.” You mumbled and led the way. You could hear Adam teasing Harry about the oddly formal greeting he’d given you. When you got in Adam ordered with you to pay. After that you waited a few minutes for your drinks and Harry asked Adam about the basketball game he’d gone to last night. They were talking about that until you all got back to your building. 

“We should all go out together!” Adam suggested as you all settled into the elevator.

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” Harry agreed as he spared a glance to you and you smiled bashfully.

“W-would that be alright, Y/N?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, sure.” You agreed easily, which surprised him a bit.

“Well, lets plan something for this coming Friday, after work?” Adam asked.

“Yeah, that works for me! I can invite a few others.” Harry suggested and Adam immediately agreed.

“Y/N, does Friday work for you?” Adam suddenly asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You agreed and soon the doors opened up on your floor and they let you go ahead before following after you and through the editing floor. 

“Adam, can I steal for a moment?” Someone asked and he nodded and veered off to go talk to the person who called him and you and Harry continued on towards the area where your offices were. 

“Everything okay with your car?”

“Yeah, thankfully.” Harry smiled.

“Good.” You hummed.

“You look very nice today, by the way. Was thinking it this morning but I forgot to mention it in the rush of getting out.” He explained and you bit your lip nervously as you glanced around.

“Ummm…maybe don’t say stuff like that here.” You said quietly and he smiled a bit.

“Right…so ummm…are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “It’s just that…” you sighed and then glanced around to ensure no one was coming, “Last night. We like…it was nothing right?” You asked him and he frowned immediately, you could see the hurt in his eyes. “Harry, that’s not-”

“You’re right, it wasn’t.” He said as he started to walk around you and you groaned and grabbed him by the sleeve. “I have a deadline.” He said as he kept going until you let go. You huffed and then trudged over to your office. Once again, you were sitting in complete silence as you stared at your screen. You’d maybe read the same sentence three times already when Adam returned and once again, he confronted you over the fact that you were still acting weird.

“I’m just having a weird day okay.” You muttered back, avoiding form meeting his intent gaze. 

“Fine.” He said before retreating back to his seat.

You decided to skip lunch since you felt a little queasy over Harry being upset at you. You really wanted to explain yourself. You looked for him but he had gone out for lunch apparently. You tried to catch him after work but he walked out with a couple others and refused to give you a morsel of his attention. It was like this for the rest of the week. Harry was just being extremely cordial with you but no more than that. You could’ve texted him, but you were scared that he’d just leave you on read, which would be extremely mortifying. So when Friday evening came along you were debating on whether you should go meet everyone at the bar as planned or just bail at the last minute, like you normally would. And just as you were reaching for your pajama’s your phone lit up with an incoming text from Adam.

Adam:

You better not bail like you always do. If anything just show up for me. Harry invited Destiny over lunch and you know how she can be…

You frowned down at your screen, fighting off the feeling of hurt and jealousy brewing in your stomach upon learning this information. You locked your phone and immediately got to searching for an outfit that would wow. You did enjoy getting dolled up on occasion, but those seemed so few and far between and it was never anything you really did for work. You were quite basic. But now, you wanted to put in a little extra effort, you were telling yourself it wasn’t to get Harry’s attention, but it was. And it infuriated you that you even cared that much, but you had felt a connection with him that night. You’d show him your vulnerable side! And you truly hadn’t meant to offend him earlier in the week, you were just scared to be more vulnerable when it seemed like the interaction you’d had the night you ran into each other was commonplace for him. If you did anything tonight, it would be to clear the air between you two at the very least.

****************

You were feeling a little nervous as you made your way into the bar. Granted, you were about 15 minutes late from the time you’d agreed upon previously, but that was bound to happen since you’d gotten a late start on getting ready to go out. You saw everyone sitting on the high tables against the far wall of the bar. Destiny saw you first ands literally leaned back in her seat to see past the person at the end. Her eyes literally grew wide as you approached. Then Adam looked and he smiled wide as you approached the table. 

“Hey.” You greeted the small group before you a bit bashfully as you reached the table and upon hearing your voice everyone else turned towards you, all of them looking equally shocked as Destiny. 

Well, except Harry. He’d seen you done up earlier in the week as well, you really couldn’t tell how expression because you skipped over looking at him due to your nerves over having to spend this whole night in his presence while he flirted with another girl. You were hurt and a little angry over it still, but when you finally made it to Destiny and took her in again you  weren’t as upset. She was far more beautiful than you were, or at least by your standards and it just made sense for him to take an interest in her. Or maybe you’d been right about him all along and Harry was just a shallow dick after all and his kind and flowery facade was just used to his convenience. Like to let you buy his drinks and have you take him in for the night.

“Sorry, I’m late.” You added as you looked back to Adam, the most familiar face out of them all.

“You’re actually just in time! Saved you a spot.” He said as he raised his jacket from the chair at the end, the one up against the wall. It was perfect because that’s the seat you would’ve chosen for yourself if you’d arrived on time. Well except that across from you was Harry, but you didn’t have to engage if you didn’t want. You were certain he’d be flirting with Destiny the entire time.

“Thank you.” You said to him as you pulled out the high chair and settled in. You could feel Harry’s gaze on you but you just finished settling in before immediately reaching for a menu.

“I ordered for you already.” Adam said lowly to you as everyone else started chatting after the initial shock of you joining them wore off.

“Oh, thank you.”

“It’s the one called berries something. It’s basically a modified zipper based on the ingredients I saw.” He explained and your brows furrowed on how he knew what went into that cocktail. “Don’t ask…I spent five years as a bartender. That’s all you need to know.” He chuckled.

“I’ll take your word for it.” You chuckled as you set down the menu and he smiled. 

“You look great, by the way.” Adam said to you lowly.

“Oh…th-thanks.” You responded a bit nervously as you watched as his eyes ran over you once again. Just moments later the waitress walked up with a tray of drinks for everyone and assured she’d be back with the appetizers they had ordered.

You knew that you’d be more of the wallflower on this night. Like you had mentioned to Harry before, it’s wasn’t that you didn’t like your coworkers, you just had vastly different interests. So as they all sat there discussing Grey’s Anatomy season 20, which had most of them in a chokehold, you just listened quietly. They were talking about these characters like they were people they knew personally. It was fascinating to you.

“What did you think of this last season, Y/N?” Carmen, one of the other girl there asked you and you blinked back slowly. You got so nervous as everyone looked at you expectantly.

“Umm…I actually have never watched that before.” You explained and everyone looked shocked once again except Adam and Harry.

“Wait…are you serious? Or are you just saying that?” Destiny asked with a disbelieving smile.

“I’m being completely honest. It’s not something that has ever interested me.” You explained, feeling nervous. “Also, the thought of anything medical just…kinda freaks me out generally, hence why I write and edit for a living. So definitely not something I want to be seeing in my spare time.” You explained and Adam, Harry, and Rama, the other person joining you, laughed at this but the girls took it as an insult.

“So then what kinds of things do you watch?” Rama asked and you bit your lip.

“Ummm…I like comedies more than dramas. Right now I’m a little obsessed with After Life and Shrinking.” You said and they looked at you with blank stares, “After Life is with Ricky Gervais. It’s about a writer coping with life after his wife dies. And Shrinking is about the same thing, just the man is a therapist and he’s coping with grief while treating patients. They’re actually really funny shows.” You said with a bright smile as you felt excited about sharing what it was you were interested in.

“That’s…dark.” Destiny mumbled lowly and Carmen and Rama started to giggle.

“To each their own, I guess…” Rama said and you tightened your smile and nodded.

“Wait, isn’t Ricky Gervais the guy that goes around offending everyone in his bits?” Destiny asked.

“Well, he does have a rather abrasive style of comedy…” you explained.

“He’s the original creator of The Office, isn’t he?” Rama asked in general.

“Actually, yes.” You added, “Another great show…both versions!” You added, “Have you guys watched that?” You asked.

“I couldn’t make it past the second episode, it was just so disgustingly offensive.” Destiny said and you bit your lip. “I can’t believe it was even allowed on TV.” She said to Carmen who nodded in agreement.

“I did like that actually.” Rama shared, “Kelly is my favorite for obvious cultural reasons.” He explained and you smiled, “I think I was born gay because if I were a woman I’d literally be Kelly. A mess over men, a shopaholic, and you’d never get me to shut up about every celebrity’s business.” He joked and you giggled.

“You’re like that now…” Adam chuckled and everyone burst into laughter at this. 

You were thankful that the topic was off of you now as Rama shared a little bit more insight about how it felt to see Hindu traditions being shared like that on TV. Yes, they were tied to a comedic show, but to him that was the first glimpse of representation of his culture that he ever saw. And he continued to share that, though the show was a comedy, it brought up a lot of very real and important topics to light, they just did it through comedy, which made it more palatable for some people. You completely agreed with his opinion. Yes, it could be uncomfortable to watch but that was the reality for many people and comedy just helped to humanize marginalized groups to decrease stigma about them. You’d definitely try to talk to Rama more, you liked how he thought and he seemed like a very open minded person. 

Despite the more positive turn that conversation took, you still decided that you would just be the wallflower tonight, lest you unintentionally offend someone else with your preferences again. But being the wallflower seemed to come with its own unique set of challenges. Adam was being oddly attentive towards you, it was starting to feel a little suffocating. And you had avoided Harry’s gaze long enough that he had started to flirt with Destiny so fucking hard, it was making your mind feel all jumbled with jealousy. You were relieved when she and Carmen decided to get up and dance to a few songs.

“How are you feeling?” Adam asked you lowly, his freshly licked lips made slight contact with the shell of your ear and it made you shiver in a bad way. You knew he hadn’t done so to make you uncomfortable, but the sensation of it was not one you had prepared for.

“Fine. I just need to go the bathroom, be right back!” You announced and scurried off. You wanted to go catch your breath for just a minute, but just your luck, as soon as you made it inside the bathroom you saw that all three stalls were taken and as you waited, a familiar voice caught your attention.

“So you and Harry?” Carmen asked who you assumed to be Destiny in the neighboring stall.

“Look, I don’t care why he invited me but as long as the night ends with him on top of me, we’re good.” She giggled and Carmen laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I can keep Rama and Adam entertained somehow.” Carmen assured her. “Omg, girl… I can’t believe they invited Y/N and she actually came out!” Carmen exclaimed and Destiny burst into laughter.

“Right! I am surprised she showed up. Honestly…she’s such a freak though. Like what kind of person enjoys watching shit about death?!” She questioned as Carmen cackled. Your eyebrows creased in as you heard them. Wasn’t a medical show also full of death? The ones you liked were more about how to process grief. However, to each their own. You were ready to brush it off and then it got worse. “Okay, but the real crime. Her outfit…”

“Oh god, right…so fucking basic.” Carmen groaned.

  “I bet she thought she ate with that one!” Destiny said before the two started cackling. “I swear, whoever she was trying to impress is running for the hills. And if that weren’t enough every time she opens her mouth we’re all bracing ourselves for whatever condescending bullshit she’s about to say.” Carmen interjected.

“For real! She has zero social cue awareness, it’s sad. And now she’s sitting there like a bump on a log just observing. Like girl, it’s evident that no one likes you, should’ve stayed home, babe…” Destiny said before they started laughing again. 

You were holding back a sob as your eyes welled up with tears. You were done. You decided to just bolt and hurried out of the bathroom, when you glanced back to the table only Harry and Rama were sitting there on their phones. You then glanced around and saw Adam over at the bar, it was the perfect opportunity to leave. You could just request and wait for your Uber outside. You started moving through the crowd and when you reached the table Harry glanced up and saw you grabbing your purse. Your eyes met for just a moment and he frowned.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He immediately asked and it’s almost as if asking was the last bit of pressure that was needed to break the dam. Your vision started to blur as your tears started to spill and you just inhaled sharply before rushing off. 

You started walking, hoping to find a desolate and quite nook for you to cry in peace and get your uber. Just as you reached the alley behind the bar you turned into it and just rested against the wall. Your tears started to fall with so much hurt and frustration and defeat. Moments later you heard your name being called and then you saw Harry rushing past the alley you were holding your breath hoping he just kept going. You pulled out your phone to call for a ride, and after another few moments he was walking back slowly, looking from side to side until finally he saw you nestled in the dim lighting as you typed away into your phone.

“Y/N.” He said and you glanced up to see him approaching, “What’s the matter, what happened?” He asked you with concern and you shook your head.

“Nothing, I’m fine. I just need to get home.” You assured him.

“Don’t do that.” He tutted, “Tell me what happened.” He insisted with concern and your eyes narrowed into angry slits.

“Why do you even care? You’ve been ignoring me all week!” You reminded him and his features furrowed.

“That’s because you hurt my feelings, Y/N! Again!” He responded with frustration, “And despite that I’m still out here. Stupidly, might I add!” He exclaimed and you groaned.

“Listen, about the other day…you didn’t let me explain myself when I was trying to.” You sighed, “I was trying to figure out if it was nothing to you. I just…I got nervous that the vibe we had was just in my head since you were kind of quiet the next day. It’s weird for you.” 

“You were acting weird.” He chuckled, “I wanted to try to talk more but you were kind of in your head so I decided to just…give you space.” He pointed out and you pouted a bit.

“Oh…” You mumbled, “I’m sorry. I was freaking out a little.” You explained and he smiled, “My brain was all mixed up and the question came out weird!” You huffed. “I just…I didn’t want to assume that you felt something too when it could’ve just been the drinks.” You explained and his demeanor softened, “Clearly, you’re an affectionate drunk and I just…I don’t trust you yet. So I was asking in a way that…protected me from being vulnerable.” You explain and his gaze completely softened. He stepped up to you and grabbed your face gently, his thumbs wiping your tears.

“You didn’t imagine it. I felt something with you too.” He confirmed and you sniffled.

“Okay, well that doesn’t matter now because you’re clearly into Destiny…”

“I’m not! I’m into y-”

“Y/N?!” You then heard Adam’s voice and a second later as he peered around the corner and saw Harry’s body right up against yours, holding your face his hands. “Let her go.” He said sternly to Harry who quickly stepped back with his hands up.

“He didn’t do anything, Adam. He was just trying to help.” You assured him and he glanced to Harry.

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to her. I just came to check on her.” He assured.

“Well, I’m here now, you can go back inside. Des was looking for you.” He informed. Harry looked to you and you nodded, he hesitated for a moment and then headed inside. “What’s the matter? Rama said you just bolted and Harry went after you.” Adam asked as soon as Harry was out of sight.

“When I was waiting in line in the bathroom I heard Destiny and Carmen talking shit about me in the stalls.” You explained and your eyes started welling up again. “I know it’s stupid but I was really trying tonight and like…they were making fun of me and the things I like and my clothes. I was feeling so good about myself tonight and then just to hear that everyone thinks it looks bad and that no one likes me…this is why I don’t do things like this, Adam!” You raised your voice out of frustration. “I just don’t fit in!”

“Hey, they’re probably just jealous because the guys and I were saying how good you look.” He said lowly, “You really do look beautiful tonight, Y/N. It’s nice to see you in your street clothes versus the work get up.” He said as he came closer to you. “And I also have never seen Grey’s Anatomy willingly, my roommate watches it so I know things, but it’s awful in my opinion. So don’t worry about that you’re not missing out.” He assured you. Clearly just trying to cheer you up and you smiled slightly. Your phone dinged and you glanced down to see your uber was arriving in a minute.

“My ride is about to be here.” You glanced up at him.

“Don’t go. Stay.” He adjourned.

“Honestly Adam, I don’t feel like it anymore.” You sighed.

“Don’t give them the satisfaction by leaving though.” Adam countered.

“This is not about them, it’s about me and my comfort and my time. I don’t want to give my time to people who don’t deserve it.” You said and he nodded.

“Alright then. Well ummm, maybe next time it could just be…us two?” He asked.

“Yeah, like the usual.” You smiled a bit.

“No, not like the usual.” He said, “Look Y/N, I think that I have a crush on y-” your phone started ringing and interrupted him.

“It’s my driver. I really need to go.” You said and he sighed.

“Yeah, go on then. I’ll see you Monday.”

“See you Monday.” You said and hurried off to the sidewalk to see the car as described waiting with their hazards on. You immediately started to apologize to the driver as you slid into the back seat and you soon took off. 

Your brain was in shambles as you pieced together that both Harry and Adam were about to tell you that they liked you. It felt foreign to you, unreal…it just didn’t make sense!

************

When Adam made it back to the table Harry was just knocking back his drink, looking like he was ready to go.

“Hey, where did everyone else go?”

“I don’t know, they’re around somewhere but I’m gonna head out. I paid the tab already.” He said and Adam nodded. “I-is she alright? Y/N?” He asked and Adam sighed.

“She will be. She just heard Des and Carmen talking shit about her in the bathroom.” He explained and Harry frowned.

“Of course they did…” he sighed, “Now she’s never going to want to go out with us again. I know this was a really big step for her.” He said and Adam nodded.

“Yeah…” he sighed in defeat, “I’m gonna talk to them about it on Monday. What they did wasn’t cool.” He said and Harry bit his lip.

“I get where you’re coming from, mate, but don’t know if Y/N would like that…” Harry said, “Maybe talk to her first, she’s not the kind that likes her battles fought for her, no matter how gallant the intentions might be.” He reasoned.

“How do you know what she’d like? And why do you care all of a sudden? She doesn’t even like you, H.” Adam reminded, starting to feel a little overprotective of you.

“We’re friends now.” Harry said and Adam frowned.

“Since when?” Adam asked.

“We had drinks last Tuesday.”

“Just the two of you?” Adam asked with an unreadable expression and Harry nodded. 

“Yeah. It was kind of serendipitous. She got stood up by her friend and I had run into my ex-girlfriend outside as she was waiting for her new boyfriend. I saw Y/N when I went inside and she was kind enough to pretend to be my date so that my ex wouldn’t humiliate me with her new boyfriend.” Harry explained with a smile, “We talked for a long time and we were able to work out our differences. Well, more clear up why she didn’t like me.” He explained. “I mean, I’ve always tried to get to know her and understand her, you know that. I like her, I always have, but now that she sees that I’m not just a chatty nuisance it’s been better.”

“Oh…” Adam said, “Well, I like her too.”

“Of course, you’re friends.” Harry said.

“Yeah…” Adam trailed off nervously.

Harry then started remembering how he’d been treating you all week and over the night…maybe Adam like-liked you too. That scared him because you already had an established rapport with Adam. If he asked you out then you’d surely choose him over Harry. It made his stomach twist with hurt and envy and nerves. He felt like he needed to pounce on the opportunity, but after spending time with you he knew you’d hate a big gesture. So he needed to work subtly if he wanted to win you over. But he also felt weird about it because Adam was his friend. They weren’t best friends or anything super deep, but at least work-wise they had a good relationship and floated in the same circles when they’d spend time outside of work. Was he obligated to tell him explicitly that he wanted to pursue you romantically? He had no idea…but either way, he felt that he’d be fighting for your attention and affection one way or another.

“Well, I’m going to go. Did you drive yourself?”

“Yeah, but I’m good. So I’ll catch you on Monday.”

“Yeah. Sorry about bringing Destiny along, I didn’t know she was like that.” He explained with a frown.

“Apologize to Y/N, she’s the one who was on the receiving end of Destiny’s crazy.” He said with a chuckle and Harry didn’t know if he meant that sincerely or as a dig. As if he didn’t feel bad enough already.

“Right.” He said with a half-smile before saying goodnight and taking off. 

**************

Saturday mornings were your favorite. You tended to sleep in a little later and then head to the gym that your apartment complex had because Saturday seemed to be everyone’s off-day and you were often the only person in there that early. You had just finishing putting on your shoes when your doorbell rang. You looked through the peep hole and saw Harry standing at your door with a bouquet of tulips of all colors. You felt your heart flutter, no one had ever gotten you flowers before. You quickly opened the door and he smiled.

“Hi.” He greeted you.

“Hi.” You responded. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to apologize.” He said and you frowned, “For what?”

“For bringing Destiny last night and ruining your evening. I didn’t know she was that kind of person.” He explained, “Ummm, I got you these as a-”

“Peace offering?” You asked and he smiled.

“Exactly.” He hummed and you took them. He wished he had the ability to take a photo of how happy you looked when you grabbed them from him. 

“They’re so pretty thank you so much.” You smiled and he nodded.

“It’s nothing.” He smiled bashfully. 

“It’s not nothing. This is very thoughtful of you. And I assure you, no apology is needed. How were you supposed to know she was going to be rude?”

“Well, true. But I invited her because I…wanted to make you jealous when I thought that you had just decided to brush me off. And I mean, she brought Carmen so…if I hadn’t…been stupid then none of that would’ve happened.” He explained.

“Well, I was jealous so…it worked.” You chuckled and he chuckled as well.

“It was still stupid.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.” You grinned and he chuckled.

“Ummm…d-do you wanna come in real quick for a water or the bathroom or anything?” You asked and he smiled.

“That’s alright, I actually was heading to the gym right now. I like to go early on Saturdays because there’s hardly anyone around.” He explained and your eyes lit up.

“Oh, me too!” You giggled, “That’s where I was about to go now.”

“Oh, nice. Where do you go?”

“Just to the one here in the complex. It’s all the way on the other side, so I walk there as my warm up and then just get to it. We have a sauna too, so it beats paying anywhere else.”

“Oh wow, that sounds really nice.”

“It is. Ummm…y-you could join me if you like?” You asked and he smiled.

“Can I really?”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly and he smiled.

“Okay. Perfect.”

“Yeah.” You smiled a bit and he chuckled.

“Ummm, so are you gonna set those down or take ‘em with you?” He asked as he eyeballed the flowers and you glanced down at the flowers and then bit your lip nervously before glancing up at him.

“Ummm, right.” You said and turned to go back inside and he followed you in. “Are you sure you don’t need the bathroom or anything like that?”

“I’m sure, love.” He chuckled, “You’re gonna want to put those in a tall vase with cool water.” He said as you set them down on your counter and just nodded. 

You felt so embarrassed for some reason, but seeing as you had never been given flowers, you didn’t own a vase. You were scrambling in your mind trying to think if you owned anything that resembled a vase and all that came to mind was a plastic pitcher you hardly ever used, but even that wasn’t tall enough for these flowers. You opened up your cabinets, pretending to search even though you knew you had nothing for these. And it was starting to make you nervous, so you suddenly turned around and decided to just be straight up.

“Ummm, t-this is the first time I have ever received flowers so I actually don’t have anything t-to put these in.” You explained and Harry frowned.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” You bit your lip nervously, “I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t need to apologize.” He assured you, “I’m sorry no one has ever done this for you.”

“S’just flowers.” You shrugged as you shook your head.

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. Flowers mean things, you know?” He said, “The white ones mean you’re sorry, among other things. The yellow ones are for cheer and happiness, the red for passion or love, and the orange ones are significant of friendship and appreciation.” He explained.

“You know a lot about flowers.” You chuckled nervously instead of addressing the symbols of these flowers.

“My mum and dad own a nursery and flower shop back home. I worked there from the ages of 12 to 22, so I picked up a few things.” He explained.

“Oh wow, that’s nice. Seems like it’d be a really peaceful place to work.”

“Definitely was.” He smiled fondly. “But ummm, I mean for now we can just put ‘em somewhere else? Do you have like a pitcher or maybe a bottle?” He asked and you gasped.

“I have a souvenir cup from when I went to Universal Orlando!” You recalled and then went to one of your other cupboards and retrieved the giant Optimus Prime head. Harry immediately laughed as you turned with it and you giggled. “S’what I have.” You mumbled bashfully as you went over to the sink to fill it up.

“You know, I was gonna suggest we go thrifting for one, but I like this better.” He smiled sincerely and you rolled your eyes at him. “I think we’ll still need to trim the stems a bit, do you have any scissors?”

“Yeah, in that drawer over there.” You pointed and he went over and while you filled up the head he busied himself with trimming the stems just a bit more and they ended up fitting perfectly. With that task completed you walked over to the gym. You weren’t huge on working out, you only did it because it was good for you. So you often just did some light weights and then more intense cardio.

“So you’re into working out?”

“Not really.” You chuckled as you neared the gym. “I do it because I must.”

“Ah…”

“You’re a gym nut aren’t you?” You inquired.

“I am…I love it. I love that it’s something to work towards and that I can see results in.”

“Because you’re a guy. You could take up jogging for a few weeks and lose 15 pounds.” 

“I know, but I’m not just trying to be lean. I like to like what I see but I also enjoy feeling and being strong. I like that it requires discipline and consistency. I like that it helps with my mental health too. And I’m not just a strength training person, I truly enjoy other things like yoga and swimming and pilates.”

“All the hard things?” You giggled and he chuckled.

“I was a beginner at those at some point too, you know?” He reminded.

“Yeah, but you strike me as one of those annoying people that is just good at everything you attempt.”

“Kinda…I’m just bad a pottery. I get too excited.” He explained and you giggled, “Do things with me today. Just to see how you like it.”

“Fine. But if I’m sore tomorrow I will be mad at you.” You said and he rolled his eyes.

“What’s the point if you’re not gonna feel it the next day?” He asked and you side-eyed him.

“That’s fine for certain things…not all the time.” You smirked and he smirked back.

“Wow…a little innuendo from little miss grumpy pants? I never would’ve thought!” He teased you.

“Just because I’m crabby doesn’t mean I’m not funny.”

“You are quite funny.” He smiled and you grinned.

“Thank you.” You hummed. 

Once you got inside and Harry took his hoodie off you were quite taken aback at just how strong he was. You really did give it your best effort in terms of following his workout routine and while he pushed you, he wasn’t annoying about it. He didn’t fuss or talk you down when you were over it, he just finished his sets quietly while you just laid on the bench and waited for him to finish up that exercise before you moved on to the next. After an hour and you already feeling like your arms were a bit noodle-ly, you made your way back to your apartment and you were feeling hungry now. You didn’t want him to go yet, so as you made it to your building you decided to ask him to extend his stay.

“W-would you want to maybe go grab food or something?” You asked.

“I would love to but I actually have some late lunch plans for a friend’s birthday, I need to go home and change.” He explained regretfully.

“Oh…”

“How about a rain check? Maybe dinner, next Friday night?” He asked and you bit your lip nervously before you nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You said softly.

“Okay…ummm, do you like sushi?” He asked and you nodded eagerly.

“Love it! Especially as it gets hotter out.”

“Right, it’s just perfect and refreshing.” He agreed, “I know a good spot that’s actually near here. And they also have a delightful mochi donut.” He added with a smile.

“Ooh…so you have sweet tooth?”

“I do. Especially for chocolates and well fruity things too…sweets in any form really.” He chuckled with a shrug.

“I get it, me too.” You confessed as you made it to your door and then turned to him. “So ummm…I never said anything about last night, so, I accept your apology, thank you for coming by and for…well, you know? T-the flowers…” You mumbled more timidly as you felt your face heating up as you blushed hard, your gaze fluttered down to your shoes. Harry grinned but said nothing about this, he found it endearing, but he wanted to know more because if he could at least refute what had been seen, he wanted to do that too.

“It was the least I could do. But umm…w-what were they saying about you?” He asked and you sighed and shrugged.

“Just that I was a freak and condescending and that I looked bad in my outfit…just childish, high school shit like that. It wasn’t that serious…” you played it down.

“Well based on how upset you were, I beg to differ.” He countered and you glanced down at your shoes again. “Hey, look at me, love.” He insisted and you glanced up at his eyes, “You looked fucking breathtaking. You always do.” He assured and you literally felt your mouth go dry, “And more importantly, I could tell that you were really trying making an effort to engage with everyone. I know that’s not an easy thing for you to do, so I’m proud of you for it. You seemed really excited to share your interests with everyone and it’s awful and very unfortunate that they made fun of you for them. And quite frankly, I’m also sorry for not sticking up for you at the table when they first questioned you for not liking the other show.” He said and you tutted. 

“It’s in the past…You don’t think I’m a freak for liking shows about death and grief.”

“Absolutely not. We all have surprising tastes in certain things. For example, thanks to my sister, my current favorite show is Bridgerton so…” he trailed off as he chuckled.

“What’s that?” You asked and he grinned.

“Oh, you need to watch it. Or at least try to. It’s like a saucy period drama. Not very masculine but it’s quite entertaining.” He smirked.

“You’re just there to watch the sex.” You chuckled.

“So?!” He asked in mock offense and you threw your head back as you laughed, “You should give it a try.”

“I don’t know…I think the sexism of the time period will put me off.”

“I thought so too, until I saw the saucy bits.” He chuckled, “Honestly, I think you’d like it. I mean, you really didn’t like me and then gave me a chance and here we are…” he said smugly.

“I suppose you’re right…I’ll try the first season.”

“Good. We’ll talk about it on our date next week.” He smiled and you nearly choked on your spit as he said this.

“Date…right.” You mumbled nervously.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been on a date before, Y/N.” he said with disbelief building in his expression and you giggled.

“Of course I’ve been on dates…they’ve just been…few and far between and very casual. And well, obviously the partners not that good given that I’m still single…” you chuckled.

“Well, this one will be good.” He said and you smiled.

“Okay. Well, have fun at your lunch. I’ll see you on Monday.” You said and he nodded.

“See you then, love. Take care.” He hummed and you nodded as you stepped forward and hesitated for a second before just hugging him. 

You wanted to, you had no idea why you struggled with showing your affection like this, but upon doing it, you immediately felt good about your decision. He smiled as he wrapped you up in his arms and then kissed you on the head. You pulled back and he brought a hand to your chin and ran his thumb over your lower lip as his eyes honed in on your lips for just a second before he leaned down and kissed you on the cheek.

“See you soon, love.” He said softly through a smile before pulling back.

“See you.” You said breathlessly as he hurried down the hall.

You felt like you were walking on light and fluffy clouds as you made it inside and to your bathroom to shower off the sweat from the gym. You’d had crushes on people before but not like this. For a long time you wondered if there was something wrong with you because you hadn’t really experienced the feelings other people described, but suddenly you were. It felt like there was all this energy brewing inside of you and just fighting to get out. You hated being proven wrong but somehow, you didn’t mind it coming from Harry. He wasn’t arrogant or smug about it like you could be at times. He had a genuine humility and goodness that emanated from him. Even just in how he was always nice to you when you weren’t nice to him proved his optimism and long-suffering spirit. 

When you emerged from your shower, ready to cook your breakfast your eyes landed on the Optimus Prime head makeshift vase and the gorgeous and colorful bouquet resting in it. You were grinning like a fool as you walked past the counter and to your fridge. But seconds later you were turning back and bringing your phone up to take a picture of the flowers and posted them on your story. You couldn’t shake the excitement buzzing through you. Your heart was moving far faster than your head and as much as you hoped it would catch up, a part of you just wanted it to run wild and free for as long as possible because having these feelings growing for Harry was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to you.

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[silentscrying]

🏀 buzzer beater | chapter SIX.

nba!gojo x manager!reader

summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.

warnings: language, mentions of smoking, absurdly cute dogs. || sfw. 2.6k words.

PRACTICE IS IN full swing at Jujutsu Arena two days later when a girl walks through the back doors with two massive dogs.

The sounds of thumping basketballs and squeaking shoes and shouts echo down the hall from the gym, the doors wide open, and you wonder if Yaga will be mad that there are dogs in here.

You don’t really care—you’re chiefly concerned with the fact that these dogs are so fucking cute and you are sprinting over to pet them before she’s halfway down the hall. They’re the same size, definitely the same breed, maybe some kind of husky mix—one is jet black and the other pure white.

“Hello!” you coo, sinking to your knees as the white one licks your face. The girl laughs and tries to pull them back, but they’re too excited. “Yes, hi! Who are you, cuties?”

“Sorry! They’re very friendly.”

The girl holding the leashes has long, dark hair pulled into a ponytail, two strands loose and curling at her chin. She looks up as you hear footsteps behind you, and the dogs pull free of the girl’s grip to jump on Megumi. “Hi!” he laughs. “Miss me?”

“Hello, my favorite sister, thank you for watching my dogs again, how are you?” the girl says flatly, hands on her hips. “Oh, great, thank you for asking!”

Megumi is fully on the ground now, the dogs wagging their tails at the speed of light and climbing all over him. He grins up at her through their fur. “Thank you,” he relents.

Ah. This must be Tsumiki.

“They’re yours?” You sink your fingers into soft white fur. “Why have you never brought them before? I will literally cuddle with them every practice—”

“That’s why,” he says, raising a brow. “You know you wouldn’t get anything done if they were around.”

“Excuse you.” You make a face, but he’s very right. You’re already fully prepared to sacrifice your entire workday to pet them.

“This is Shiro,” Megumi tells you as the white dog jumps up to lick your face, “and this is Kuro—hey, down! Shiro. Down. Good girl.” He laughs and pats Shiro on the head as she flops onto the ground.

Megumi isn’t cleared to play for two more days, but he’s been coming to practice to watch and talk strategy with Kusakabe. This is the most animated you’ve seen him since the concussion—actually, this might be the most animated you’ve seen him ever. You’ve never seen him this soft before, this affectionate. The love he has for these dogs is palpable.

“Oi.” Tsumiki walks over and yanks Megumi to his feet, standing on her tiptoes and holding his face in her hands. She glares at him. “Next time you get concussed on national television, answer your phone, Gumi.”

“Sorry, Miki,” he mumbles, heat rising to his cheeks when he realizes he’s getting chewed out by his sister in front of you. He’s significantly taller than her, but you know immediately that he’ll do anything she asks of him. The older sister aura is undeniable.

“You’re lucky Yuji called me or I would’ve flown up there myself to slap you.”

Megumi rolls his eyes and Tsumiki releases him from her hold. The dogs crowd around his legs, butting their heads up against him until he pets them. “C’mon,” Megumi says. “They’re practicing. Gojo will want to say hi.”

You initially think Yaga might be pissed about the dogs being in the gym, but he’s got a soft spot for them—they trot in ahead of Megumi, and he can’t even reprimand them. They even get Kusakabe to smile. They’re well-behaved, not venturing onto the court, just hovering around Megumi obediently.

Notably less well-behaved, Gojo drops a ball the second he sees Tsumiki and abandons whatever drill he’s running, bounding over to the side of the court. “Tsumiki!” he yells, and scoops her up in a hug.

“Satoru—ew, you’re sweaty! Stop, I have class!”

As soon as Gojo is off the court the dogs are all over him. They love him, and are obviously very familiar with him. Kuro tries to chew on his headband, and Gojo is fully rolling around the floor in a two-on-one wrestling match within seconds.

“Okay, okay,” Yaga interrupts eventually. “Back to work.” Gojo sighs dramatically and nudges the dogs in your direction.

“I’m being evicted,” he tells them sadly. “Go to Team Mom. She’ll take care of you.” You roll your eyes but immediately let Shiro sprawl across your lap. She’s too big to be a lapdog, but she doesn’t seem to know or care, which is fine by you.

You were planning to head out earlier today, but you wind up leaned against Kuro with Shiro nestled across your lap for the duration of the practice. You balance your laptop on top of Shiro. She doesn’t seem to mind.

Tsumiki’s settled in beside you, killing time before she has to leave.

“You’re the default dogsitter, then?”

She laughs, ruffling Shiro’s fur. “Yeah, when the team’s away. It’s the only form of payment he’ll take for helping me pay for grad school.” She rolls her eyes. “Even though I’d do it either way. I couldn’t drop them off tonight because I have class, and since Gumi’s not cleared to drive I figured I’d just swing by here before.” You smile at the nickname, remembering his name in Gojo’s contacts.

“What are you in grad school for?”

“Social work,” she says. “Gumi’s been really supportive about it, which is sweet. Satoru too.”

Right. Gojo considers both of them family. “That’s really cool,” you say truthfully. “Why social work?”

Tsumiki sighs, watching Megumi bent over a tablet with Kusakabe, deep in conversation. “We didn’t have the best home situation growing up,” she admits. “I honestly wasn’t sure we were gonna make it, at least before Satoru showed up. I want to make sure that kind of stuff doesn’t happen to other kids.”

Her voice is soft as she runs a hand along Kuro’s back, and she tears her gaze away from Megumi to look at you. “You can ask,” she says, smiling. “Really, it’s okay.”

You feel the heat on your cheeks, feeling caught. You are curious. So curious. You take a moment to choose the right words. “Gojo told me he met you guys when Megumi was still in high school,” you say finally. “And Megumi didn’t think he could play D1.”

“Ah,” Tsumiki says. “He didn’t think he could go to college at all, really, even though I told him to. I was… really sick, around the time he was being scouted. At that point, he was all I had. I was all he had. He was going to work full-time to pay the medical bills.”

She doesn’t have to say it, for you to put two and two together. I did him a favor.

“He paid them,” you realize aloud, looking for him on the court without realizing it. “Gojo paid your medical bills. So Megumi could go D1.”

You slam your mouth shut as soon as you say it, feeling like you’ve overstepped, jumped to conclusions. But Tsumiki’s just got that same warm smile on her face, nodding. “Yeah. He really… I don’t know where we’d be without him. Where I’d be, without both of them.”

She seems to register the range of emotions on your face, the way you’re fumbling for words, and mercifully takes the conversation in a new direction. “Which is why I’m very grateful to you,” she says, “for keeping them on track.”

You laugh, startled. “Well, they certainly make it easier than the last place I came from.”

Tsumiki hums, like she knows what you mean. “Megumi likes you,” she says. “The last manager they had here wasn’t nearly as good, he said.”

The heat rises to your cheeks and you look down, fighting off a surprised smile. Megumi isn’t the most vocal—you’ve never had the impression that he doesn’t like you, but you also never expected to actually be praised by him.

“Says you keep Satoru in check,” Tsumiki says, “which is quite the feat.”

You chuckle. “Nobody can keep him in check. Not really.” Tsumiki just shakes her head and smiles.

“But you recognize that,” she says, “and that makes you different.”

You’re not sure what to do with her quiet observation, and for a while the two of you watch practice in companionable silence, interrupted only by the thumping of dog tails and the sounds of the gym.

She heads out after about fifteen minutes, waving to Gojo and forcing Megumi into a hug.

“I’ll pick them up the night before you fly out,” she promises, and kisses both of the dogs goodbye.

“So are they your dogs now or can I have them back?” Megumi asks as practice winds down, arms folded as he looks down at you. You smile up at him, thinking about what Tsumiki said. Megumi likes you. It means a lot to you, you realize, that he thinks you’re good at your job. Something warm blooms in your chest at the sentiment.

“They are my best friends now and forever,” you announce. “I will die for them.” Kuro’s tail thumps happily beside you.

Yuji plops down beside you and Kuro sits up, licking the sweat off his face. “Hi, cutie!” he says. “Hi! Yeah, who’s a good boy? You’re the best boy. Yes you are. I love you, yep, sure do. Goooood boy.”

Megumi rolls his eyes. “You ready to go?” He throws a set of car keys at Yuji and he catches them in one hand, the other still scratching Kuro behind the ears.

“You ready?” Yuji asks the dog. “You ready to go? Yeah? Let’s go!” He must be giving Megumi a ride since he’s not cleared to drive yet.

“Bye, little buddies,” you coo, booping each of their noses in turn. Shiro licks your face and Kuro butts his head against the heel of your hand, and then they’re following Megumi down the hall.

“Met the sister, huh?” Gojo says as you stand, brushing the dog fur off your pants unsuccessfully. “Man, I love those dogs.”

“She’s cool,” you say. “I like her. And I love them. I’ve never seen Fushiguro that soft.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s an absolute sap for them,” Gojo laughs. You watch the expression on his face like you can uncover something there. He’s softer when he talks about Megumi, about Tsumiki, a relaxed curve to his lips and a warm look in his eyes. You feel like there’s an entire person in Satoru Gojo, one wholly separate from the NBA star, who you haven’t really gotten to know.

Things have started to click into place now, filled in by Tsumiki’s side of the story. It makes sense that Gojo would be so worried about Megumi getting hurt. If he isn’t able to play, he isn’t able to help Tsumiki pay for grad school. Gojo would offer to pay, and Megumi and Tsumiki wouldn’t let him—they still feel like they owe Gojo as it is.

Gojo knows all of this, and on top of it, considers the Fushiguros family. He knows Megumi would run himself ragged trying to support Tsumiki on whatever income he could. He wouldn’t let her drop out. And it makes sense, too, that he didn’t feel it was his place to say anything—you’re glad that you heard about Tsumiki’s medical issues from Tsumiki herself, even if you’re surprised she was so forthcoming about them despite barely knowing you.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Gojo asks, tapping you on the temple. You pull back and swat his hand away, snapping out of your reverie.

“I’m thinking of all the ways Utahime and I can make fun of you.”

“How dare you,” he gasps, clutching his chest. “You wound me.” He grins and tosses Kento a ball as he goes around collecting them, shoving them into a mesh bag. “Well, I’ve got a Fushiguro to annoy. See you tomorrow, Alley Cat.”

You roll your eyes and wave him off, and he whistles as he disappears from view.

—

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Megumi returns to practice, Yaga drills the team until they drop, and you're spending every waking hour prepping for Baltimore.

The thing is, you are worried. Worried about making it past round two of the playoffs, worried about playing a second seed on their home court.

But the Sorcerers win.

And then they win again.

And again.

You hardly have any time to yourself in the whirlwind of the next two weeks. It's a fast-paced cycle of flying and emailing and calling, arguing with Gojo over whether pineapple belongs on pizza (he says it does), and crashing in hotels after midnight with Ieiri either smoking or snoring on the other side of the room. Press requests are coming in even more than usual because of the upset. The headlines are flooding your inbox.

WOLVERINES FALL TO SORCERERS ON HOME COURT

SECOND-ROUND EASTERN CONFERENCE UPSET HAS WOLVERINES FANS ON EDGE

THIRD SEED SORCERERS ON THEIR WAY TO UNEXPECTED SWEEP?

It's too good to be true, and at the fourth game Baltimore manages to get a win over your team. Yuji's uncle Sukuna gets kicked out of Jujutsu Arena again in a rage, and the loss jars your team—Gojo tries to give them a pep talk, but it mostly centers around the idea that they're better than everyone else, and Ino seems to be the only one really listening.

It's a tough loss, but you're still 3-1. And when you fly back up to Baltimore, you have a feeling it'll be for the last time this season.

You practically fall into Nobara in relief when Ino slams the last shot in just before the buzzer, solidifying the Sorcerers' place in the conference finals. Kento grins, actually grins, and tries to give Ino a high-five that Ino immediately turns into a full-fledged hug.

A series of texts from the Samurai's manager comes in only moments later.

nitta: SEE YOU ON THE 17 !!!! nitta: utahime's so mad nitta: i'm thrilled. we can get sushi

Gojo plucks your phone from your hand and holds it up above you so you can't reach it, and you scowl and briefly consider kneeing him in the nuts in front of the entire stadium.

"Don't text and manage," he says, and you roll your eyes.

"I'm trying to set up conference finals, but if you don't want to go, that's fine," you lie. You were reading Nitta's texts; close enough. Gojo grins and drops the phone back into your hands.

"Conference finals!" he whoops, practically singing as he bounces on the balls of his feet. "Oh, I can't wait to see Utahime."

"She can wait to see you," you say, but Nobara's already pulling Gojo off to the side, camera in hand. You watch as she shoves a clip mic at him and starts barraging him with questions. He takes them in stride, answering animatedly and at one point pulling Megumi into the frame against his will.

You've actually missed talking to him the past week. It's been a hectic few days, and though you've had your share of meaningless arguments and snarky comments and eye rolls, you haven't had a real conversation with Satoru since New York. Now that you know about Tsumiki, there's a part of you that desperately wants to ask him about Geto, about why he was so against Megumi being drafted, about the conflict you can't seem to figure out.

Because despite everything, you do know Geto. And you know it wasn't mere jealousy or insecurity that had him pulling a move like that.

It jars you, shakes you, makes you question the last several years and every interaction you've ever had with him, but when Gojo catches your eye over Nobara's shoulder and smiles, you realize something.

You can't remember why you ever hated him.

directory. || prev. || next.

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan

shoutout to @reactwithjan for saying that gojo would order pineapple on pizza bc he would and he does.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 10

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Loki entwines your life like the snake he is. You stare at the steaming cup of tea as you listen to him in the kitchen. You don’t really trust him not to ruin anything else but you’re powerless to stop him. Every move has another pang plucking in your stomach.  

God! You can’t believe it. Three days. With him? And you’re married? Right, none of this makes sense. He can’t be your husband. It’s impossible. 

You drag yourself up and clutch your stomach. There’s something else, a tingle as your thighs press together. A flash ripples behind your eyes and you hear him groaning, feeling him thrusting, his hot breath enshrines you. You blink and it’s gone. A moan drifts from your lips. 

You search your apartment and scowl. All this green... It’s not bad but it’s a bit much. None of you is left here. Aren’t marriages unions not invasions? 

No, you’re not married. He never even asked. You get up and suss out your phone on the side table. You pick it up as you keep an ear toward his constant stirring. You tap into the search bar and bring up City Hall. You have to call. Damn it. 

You tiptoe toward the bathroom and peek back as you ease the door shut. You tap the phone number and chew your thumb. You’re on hold for a while and after navigating through the directory, you finally get an answer. 

“Hi, er, wow,” you respond to the dull tone on the other end. “I don’t really know how to do this. Sorry, erm, I need to look up a marriage license?” 

“Do you have the registration number?” The woman asks. 

“No, but I can give you my name? My Social Security? Whatever you need.” 

“Social Security,” she sniffs into the speaker. She doesn’t seem very impressed. 

You recite the memorised number and wait as you hear the clacking of keys. She hums flatly. “Yep, right here...” she reads out your name, “and uh, Lachi—Loki Laufeyson.” 

Your heart drops. What? Your last hope that he’s as much a liar as ever evaporates. You stand stunned, starring into the drain. 

“Anything else I can do, ma’am?” She doesn’t sound genuinely helpful. 

“No,” you croak and hang up. You’ve wasted her time. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You lift your head and slowly let yourself look at your reflection. You shriek at Loki as he grins over you. 

“Oh god,” you spin to face him in the tight space, “do you have to do that?” 

“Well, I was concerned. I find my wife missing--” 

“Don’t say it. Stop. No. Wife? I can’t--” 

“It is the truth. Legal, as it were. Surely that lovely woman on the phone told you so,” he slithers. 

“Ugh, why? Why me?” 

“Oh, I know, how lucky you are,” he tickles along your sides and you nearly toss the phone. You stop him, latching onto one wrist as you push your cell against the other. 

“Haven’t you done enough?” 

“Hardly. Darling, we are on honeymoon, are we not? So let us taste the delicious nectar of our coming together--” 

“Honeymoon? Wow, it’s wonderful,” you look around. 

“Ah, yes, I do believe you mortals prefer to travel, so...” 

He untangles his arm from your grasp and snaps his finger. His figure is limned in ribbons of green and your insides twist as the world spins around you. Your feet leave the ground only to land heavier on something else.  

You blink and cry out. The sky is a vibrant violet and silver stars shine in a constellation all around. You crane to see the tapestry as your feet press on something rough. You look down and two golden sandals appear on your feet. The satin robe transforms into a gown with braiding that matches the shoes. 

Loki turns parallel to you and presses his hand to your lower back. “Beautiful, yes?” 

You peer around and open and close your mouth. You take inhale deeply. Several times. You know you’re nowhere on earth. 

“I can breathe...” you murmur. 

“As you know, I have my tricks,” he purrs. 

“Wh-where are we?” You ask shakily, the reality that you’re on an entirely different planet rattles in your skull. 

“Does it matter? We are together?” You look at him and he turns to meet your gaze, “why do you look upon me thus?” 

You shake your head. You can’t explain all the ways he makes you feel. Loathing, confusion, agitation, and a little fear. 

“It’s a lot,” you utter at last. 

“Yes, I’ve been told I can be much to handle.” 

You sigh and look up at the sky. It is pretty. Your eyes wander down to the rocky peaks along the far edge of the planet. It smells like... flowers and vanilla and cinnamon. You raise your nose to sniff it deeper. 

“What is that?” 

“I wouldn’t know. I smell sage and Asgardian oak. It won’t be the same as you.” 

“Huh?” You glance at him again. This time, he laughs. 

“Here, you can smell exactly what you like best. And the sky reflects the colours which you most love. To me, a sea of evergreen and sapphire, but now, a touch of the shade of your lips too. For you... well, what do you see?” 

Your heart flips. It can’t be true. 

“I’m not lying to you,” he affirms as if he can read your mind. Somehow, you believe him. 

“It’s purple. Lilac and plum and there’s silver stars.” 

“Lovely,” he wraps his arm around you. It’s strange. You don’t feel so... uneasy. Almost calm. “And you’ve not even seen our accommodation, my beautiful wife.” 

“Just... let me enjoy this. Just a little.” 

He hums but says nothing else. His fingers curl into your hips and his chest falls. You’re not happy but you’re not entirely unhappy. Not like it will make much difference. You’re in to deep. 

[struwberrii]

chapter 3 : terms and conditions ⋆⭒˚.⋆

masterlist

you look up from your bakery duties, prepared to greet those who just walked into your shop, when you hear a familiar laugh. standing in the entrance of your bakery was osamu, atsumu, suna and a guy you hadn't seen before. you felt your heart skip a beat when your eyes locked on suna.

you quickly catch yourself and go back to helping the current customer youre with. all you could do was hope he didnt catch you staring, hed probably think you were a total weirdo or something, or even worse, you could just be boosting his ego.

in between helping customers and packing orders, you exchange quick glances at your phone to check on what akaashi is up to

after 2 more customers you finally reached osamus group.

"heyy y/n! how've ya been?" osamu smiles at you, you smile in return and greet him and all his friends.

"so you're the infamous y/n" the friend you hadnt seen before holds out a hand to greet you. "infamous?" you question, worry rushing over your body, what have these guys been saying about you?

osamu kicks aran in the back of the knee from behind the counter so you werent able to see. "i talk very highly about yer bakery, these guys know all about ya!" osamu nervously chimes in, followed by a forced laugh.

"yeah, nice to finally meet you, i'm aran" he smiles shaking your hand firmly. you take his order and add osamu’s regular to the order as well, then you take atsumus order, then finally sunas.

“what do you suggest, y/n?” suna speaks up after examining the menu for a minute. “our cheesecakes are pretty popular” you smile, pointing to a few flavors in your display case. “is that your favorite?” you look up from the display only to see suna staring right at you, he had no interest in the cheesecakes. you felt your face heating up at the interaction.

“uhmm…. my favorite are the chocolate chip cookies, i put a lot of work into those” you smiled “i’ll try those then” he smiled lazily. you returned the smile and added the brownies to his tab. you then go to package his brownies and hand him the bag. “thanks” he says taking the bag from you, he turns to make his way over to his friends at their table, but stops and turns back to you. the business in the shop had kind of died down, you had started to make you way to the back until you heard your name called out

“y/n”

“yeah?”

“do you want to, uh, sit with us?”

“uhm, sure!”

you feel your palms get sweaty as you make your way around the counter to the table, one of your employees taking over the register

just as you pull out your chair to sit down you hear the doors of your bakery open. you look over and see akaashi staring back at you with a confused look on his face as he walks up to the ordering area.

“i think it’s bout time i properly introduce myself to ya, im atsumu miya, but cha can just call me tsumu’, i play volleyball on the msby team” he grins at you while tearing UP the banana bread and milk tea he ordered. it’s a little funny watching him talk about himself with bread crumbs all over his face, you couldn’t help but smile, it seemed like everyone was really enjoying your baking.

“oh, and i’m aran, i also play volleyball but for the tachibana red falcons, ive known these 3 idiots since high school though” he laughed, leaving the floor to suna

“we’ve already met, but yeah, i also play volleyball” he replied flatly. jeez, why even ask me to join you. “aren’t cha’ gonna tell her what team you play for!!” atsumu nudged him on the arm “i play for ejp” he says to you turning his phone off and putting it down for the first time since you’ve sat down

“so, how’d you meet osamu?” aran asked. “well we opened a few weeks ago and osamu was kind enough to bring some onigiri over as a welcome gift, after that we’ve kind of just been friends” you smiled. “wow, samu being nice, almost hard to believe” aran says side eyeing osamu next to him.

“woah” suna suddenly speaks up, you look over and see him taking a bite of the cookies you made. “these are actually a lot better than i thought they’d be” suna says looking at you with stars in his eyes. this was the first ounce of emotion he’d shown since you first met. “it’s like, you can taste the love that was put into these” suna smiled genuinely. “that’s probably the $45 flour yer tastin’” samu laughed. “yeah i must say, your baking is other worldly y/n, you’ve got serious skills” aran says validating sunas claims. “thank you guys so much” you smiled feeling your face heat up again

the rest of the night went smoothly, the conversation even continuing after closing at 8pm. akaashi had left about an hour ago and you felt yourself finally feeling comfortable around your new found friends.

“hey, how bout we all go to karaoke later, my treat!” osamu suggested.

everyone agreed and started to pack their belongings up. “i’ll have to close up shop but i could meet you guys there!” you smiled. “that’s fine, we’ll just go get a room and order drinks and food while we wait, it shouldn’t take you long right?” aran asked. “nope! maybe 30 minutes? and then i’ll be on my way”.

“here, put your number in my phone and i’ll text you the information” suna said handing his phone over to you. you knew he was just giving his number over to give you directions, but you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up at this gesture.

“i already have y/ns number y’know?” osamu cocked a brow at suna while you typed away on his phone. all suna did in response was shrug at the brunette in front of him, earning an eye roll from osamu. “i’ll text you soon” suna smiled at you as everyone waved goodbye on their ways out.

just as you begin to lock up shop you get another notification from suna

you already decided you weren’t going to sing but hearing everyone else sing sounded really fun, especially suna, you wondered what type of song he would pick or how his voice would sound. once you got to the karaoke spot you noticed someone waiting outside. suna? why was he out here all by himself.

“hey suna! why are you out here?” you asked curious.

“just getting some fresh air, oh, you’re here” he said standing up straight. “to be honest, karaoke isn’t really my scene” he admitted sheepishly.

“oh, me neither” you laughed in return

“wanna ditch?”

taglist: @karasusrealwife @iluv-ace @cc1306 @wakashudou @kawahearts @weirdowithaphone @sugacor3

(comment to be added to the list :)

[fiveisnumber1]

Timeless - Five Hargreeves X Reader

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38

A/N: Sorry, this took a bit. I was actually pretty close to finishing it before season 4 came out. Then I watched season 4 and fell into a rut for a bit because it was so disappointing and upsetting. Anyway, I finally got my energy to write back and have finally managed to finish it! Also, the title of this chapter is inspired by the song I'm Just Sayin' by Weathers so for any who are interested I'd recommend to go take a listen to it! Alright, thanks! Enjoy!

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Pt 39 - Hate And Love Are Starting To Taste The Same

From where he stood, Five watched as you got into what he could only assume was Dean's car and drove off. Staying in place for a moment, he looked at the number you had written on his arm. Using a finger he traced over the little heart you had drawn. It was a nice detail. Even in one of your worst moments you still took the time to show him you loved him. Although, the more he looked at it, the more he wanted to rush to a phone and call you already. It wasn't an emergency in the normal sense, but he still needed you. He knew he couldn't call though. You needed your space, and he had to trust you'd come back when you were ready to. Seeing as you probably weren't coming back for a bit, Five pulled down his sleeve, turned away from the doors, and walked back to his siblings at the bar. The silence was awkward as he approached, but it didn't last as Diego snapped,

"You just let her go!?"

"I had no choice." Five responded flatly "Even if I held on she could've just used her powers to leave."

"And what if she gets hurt?" Diego interrogated

"I don't know..." Five answered honestly "I just have to hope that she doesn't."

"But you're her boyfriend!" Diego retorted "It's your job to keep an eye on her."

Hearing that comment, Five side-eyed Diego. It's not like he wanted to let you go. Like he had said, he had no choice in the matter. And Diego sure was one to talk. For so long he touted himself as this amazing older brother, this superior protector who was far better at keeping you safe than Five was, and yet these past few days he had done anything but protect you. You grieved your dead parents and he didn't pay attention. You got torn by a kugelwave and instead of helping you, he turned his attention to Stan. You left the hotel and he had no clue where you went. You cried over the fact that your friends got blitzed and instead of comforting you, he comforted Stan who was scared of your residual power. And yet even with all the evidence, Diego still had the audacity to blame Five for your lack of physical and mental safety. Even when he was doing everything he could to ensure the opposite. Maybe instead of blaming him, Diego should take a long look in the mirror given that you had still expressed your love for Five, but had just fully rejected Diego.

"First of all, that was also supposed to be your job, but as we can all see, you failed at that." Five reminded "Secondly, I wouldn't be a very good boyfriend if I forced her to do something she didn't want to do. She respects and trusts my decisions even when she disagrees. It's only right that I do the same for her."

Diego opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but what could he say? Five was right. In some way or another, he had failed you and now you wanted nothing to do with him. Diego closed his mouth knowing he had nothing to reply and instead looked at the knives you had tossed on the ground. Letting out a sigh, Diego slowly bent down to pick them up. One by one he placed them in empty slots in his knife holster and when he ran out of space he carefully pocketed the rest. Standing back up, Diego gave Five a mournful look before returning to his spot by the bar. Taking a seat at one of the stools, he took a long drink from his glass. Stan looked at Diego, not out of any concern, but because of all the shiny knives that were now on his person. Looking at Diego excitedly, Stan asked,

"Can I have them?"

"No." Diego snapped

Diego could see the startled expression on Stan's face. He didn't mean to do that, Stan had already been through enough today. Letting out another sigh, Diego placed his glass down and looked directly at Stan.

"I'm sorry..." Diego apologized before sadly adding "But no, you can't have them."

"But she said-" Stan began to protest

"They're not yours, Stan. They belong to (Y/N)." Lila sternly enforced "You can't have them."

Letting out an annoyed huff, Stan walked away from the pair and sat down at a nearby table, slumping low in his seat to show his disdain. However, neither Diego nor Lila paid it much attention. Sitting in the seat next to Diego, Lila put a supportive hand on his shoulder. Putting his glass down, Diego's eyes met Lila's and in them she could see so much sorrow. His fire was dimmed and it broke her heart to think that she had maybe been the cause of this. She loved him. Diego didn't know Stan wasn't actually his. It was just supposed to be an experiment to see if he'd be a good dad. She was never trying to push you two apart. She didn't even think it was possible. She couldn't stand to see Diego so broken. If she could, she was going to try and fix this, for the both of you.

"She'll come back around." Lila comforted

"I hope so..." Diego lamented

"She will." Lila reassured, "I promise."

As Lila attempted to comfort Diego, Five had walked back behind the bar again. Pouring himself a new glass of whiskey, since Klaus had stolen his first, Five took a drink from the glass before looking at his siblings again. There was an awkward silence as everyone looked around, but it was soon broken as Luther questioned,

"So that thing? It was?"

"A Kugelwave." Five responded despondently "And It's getting worse."

"And all those kids they're...?" Viktor trailed off, the concern evident in his tone

Five grimaced. Those 'kids' weren't just anyone, they were your friends, and if things had worked out they could've been his friends. Hell, with the way they treated him maybe they already were, and now he was down six friends too.

"They're gone." Five answered "And we can only hope that their souls are in a better place."

Hearing Five's response, the wheels in Luther's head finally started to turn. With all the chaos that had ensued from the wave, his thoughts had whipped back and forth trying to figure out what to think and do. But with things settled down, he finally realized that Lucas was gone. But not just gone, he was gone gone.

"Oh no, that thing took my son!" Luther exclaimed, "What am I going to tell Sloane!"

"What's there to tell?" Allison snidely remarked, "You're not his real parents."

Luther glared at Allison, disgusted by her comment. Lucas may not have been his son for long, but he was still his son. Sure, it was a surprise to him, and sure it took your convincing to agree, but Lucas was a good kid. And in those few minutes they were together Luther felt like he had done a better job as a father to Lucas than Reginald had ever done for Luther. He honestly wished he had gotten to know his son better and introduced him to his mother. Who knows, maybe the three of them could've been happy together. And anyway, just because Lucas was late-term adopted didn't make him his son any less. Diego had a surprise son and Allison wasn't doubting his legitimacy. And on top of it, Luther and the rest of his siblings were all adopted too so what kind of authority did Allison think she had on what counted as legitimate parenthood?

"Yes, we are!" Luther replied defensively "Don't talk about my son like that."

Seeing the budding argument between Luther and Allison, and wanting to avoid the topic of parenthood for Diego's sake, Lila interjected,

"Five, how long do we have?"

Luther and Allison side-eyed each other but quickly turned their attention to Five. Finding out how much time they had left was only marginally more important than the argument they were heading toward. Although the resentment was still evident.

"At this rate of escalation, if you factor in-" Five began to explain

"How long, Five?" Allison pressed, cutting him off

So much for Five letting them down gently. After all that happened, he wanted to at least be neutral about their possibly imminent demise, but if bluntness was what they wanted, bluntness was what they would get.

"Four, maybe five days before the rest of existence is blitzed." Five answered

His bluntness had the exact reaction that he was expecting as all of his siblings and Lila let out heavy sighs and stared off into space. He watched as Allison took a heavy drink from her glass before walking behind a nearby pillar to be out of sight. However, even though she was out of sight it did not hide the sound of her panicked breaths. Well, Five couldn't say he didn't try to be sensitive about it. However, there was still a feeling of defeat after all that had occurred. Downing his glass, he then crossed his arms on the bar before leaning down and resting his head on his arms. It's not like there was much else to do.

"We should've given them Harlan..." Luther mumbled

"Luther." Viktor chastised

"What about Harlan?" Diego questioned

The rest of the family looked over to Luther. What was going on with Harlan and why was it important to this conversation? Realizing that it was too late to take back his words, but also that he did not want to hide this information Luther explained,

"The Sparrows said if we turned him over, we could end the fighting, and then work together to save the world."

Hearing this information the rest of the group perked up. Why hadn't they heard about this before?

"But if we didn't-" Luther continued

"But we tried to make peace. Okay? And then the step-siblings from hell attacked, kidnapped you, and they tried to kill us." Viktor chimed in cutting Luther off "I mean, come on. We can't trust them. Working together would be like trying to defuse a bomb by pouring gas on it. It's only gonna make things burn down faster."

"But don't we need the big bad glowy thing in their basement?" Klaus chimed in

As Five heard those words, he blinked a few times in confusion. Was Klaus talking about what he thought he was talking about? All this time, did Klaus have highly important information that he hadn't felt necessary to bring up until now? Slowly, Five turned to look at his eccentric brother as he questioned curiously,

"Klaus, do you know where the Kugelblitz is?"

"Oh, yeah. I saw it. When I went to visit Dad." Klaus replied nonchalantly "It's in the old storage room where Mom used to keep all her luggage."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Diego interrogated

"I did!" Klaus exclaimed, "I told you!"

"You say stupid shit all the time!" Diego shouted back before quietly adding "...important stupid shit."

Five slammed the empty glass he had been fiddling with on the bar top and stood up straight as he looked at Klaus. His thoughts which only a moment ago were despondent and wondering how he would spend his last day, were now reinvigorated with some type of hope of fixing things. He couldn't bring the loved ones you lost back, but if he could get access to the Kugelblitz he could stop it from hurting you and maybe you could build a life together where you both learned how to be happy again.

"Of course. It appeared in the same place we did." Five spoke aloud

Five felt a little stupid for not realizing this sooner. Why didn't he think to check the house? It made sense that it would appear there, that's where the paradox formed. Exactly, where they first showed up. Plans ran through Five's head of the quickest ways to get access to the Kugelblitz and the most effective ways to eliminate it. The sooner they did this, the more chance there was for a future.

However, Viktor knew that the tide had turned against him now. Everyone was most likely going to use Harlan as a pawn to get to the Kugelblitz, but he didn't deserve that. He needed a way to keep Harlan out of this. Trying to put his thoughts together, Viktor walked away from the bar and closer to the front desk, but he wouldn't get the time to himself as Luther had already followed him questioning,

"Hey, why are you protecting this guy, huh? It's like Peabody all over again."

Turning around to face Luther, Viktor knew he needed to try and get him off his back. Viktor was metaphorically trapped in a corner and he needed to find a way out of this.

"Harlan is nothing like Leonard." Viktor defended

"Well, he's clearly got some kinda hold over you." Luther protested "Stop covering for him."

There was nothing Viktor wanted more than to leave the conversation, but that became infinitely more complicated as the rest of his family approached him and Luther. Five looked between the two of them. They had been acting odd ever since Luther had brought up the deal the Sparrows offered. Even though it was probably the best plan, it was obvious Viktor wasn't in favor of it because of what it meant for Harlan, but it seemed like there was more to it that Luther was trying to address. Trying to get a clearer picture of what was going on Five asked,

"Covering what? What's going on?"

"He didn't mean to hurt anyone." Viktor dismissed

"Really? You mean, when he did this?" Luther interrogated, gesturing to the cut on Viktor's face

The rest of the group turned their attention to the scar on Viktor's face and it was not pretty. How had they not noticed it earlier? Well, perhaps because of everything that happened, but still it was right there on his face. Granted, it was not as large or deep as the gashes you received from the Kugelwave, but it wasn't small either.

"Ow," Lila commented

"Wait, Harlan did that?" Five questioned

"That's it, I'm gonna end him." Diego threatened

Viktor looked around nervously at his siblings and Lila. He didn't want this to be happening. Every insinuation or accusation that Luther shot his way was just one more reason for the rest of them to be all in on giving Harlan to the Sparrows. Viktor couldn't let that happen, if he did he'd be failing Harlan. He'd be failing Sissy for putting her son in harm's way. He never meant to hurt anyone, it was accidental. He was innocent.

"Look, I know how it looks, but Harlan didn't ask for this. If we hadn't gone back to 1963, if I hadn't saved him-" Viktor tried to deescalate

"He killed Jayme and Alphonso, not you." Luther retorted angrily, "He's the reason we're in this mess, and he's our only way out of it."

Although at this point Five wanted a distinct decrease in interpersonal conflict, no matter what way he looked at it Luther was right. Every plan he had started with getting access to the Kugelblitz without Sparrow intervention or retaliation. And the only plans in his mind that seemed to be plausible for that were the ones where Harlan was traded for access. It was a trolley problem, but the choice was easy to make.

"Luther's right." Five agreed "If we're gonna have an iota of a chance of getting out of this alive, we need access to the Kugelblitz."

"There's only four of them left. We can just overpower them." Viktor retorted frustrated

Five looked at Viktor bewildered. That was a stupid idea. It might've been only four of them, but they were still an incredibly strong team. Did Viktor forget the last time they fought the Sparrows? They got their asses kicked unbelievably hard. Trying to fight the Sparrows again was like willingly signing their death certificates.

"What, and risk losing some of us in the process?" Five snapped

"What? Like your girlfriend?" Viktor retorted

Five's bewilderment morphed into rage. How dare Viktor insinuate that you were weak and would die if they all tried fighting the Sparrows. Not only was that not true since you, one, beat all of them on your own, but two, they LIKED you. Even if you fought on the Umbrellas' side, the Sparrows most likely wouldn't be willing to engage you in that fight given the prior reasons. And on top of it all now, Five was very willing to sacrifice Viktor if it meant you stayed alive. Any concerns that Five might've had about sacrificing Harlan went out the window the second Viktor made that comment.

"No. Actually, she would be fine." Five berated "Because unlike you and the rest of us, she was able to single-handedly beat the Sparrows."

Viktor grimaced at Five's comment. Viktor's words came out before he fully thought them through and now there was no way he was getting Five back on his side. He had to try though, right? Opening his mouth, he was about to speak, but didn't get the chance as Luther remarked,

"Yeah, but we don't have her help now because someone had to make her hate us all."

Anger filled Diego as he whipped to face Luther. He had never meant to upset you, and to have whatever mistake he made thrown in his face did not feel good. But since Luther wanted to keep score of what caused your anger, Diego would too. Stepping up to Luther, Diego shouted,

"You made the family comment!"

"Well, YOU pissed her off enough to think that way!" Luther shot back "How hard was it to say 'yes, I love you'?!"

"ENOUGH." Five yelled

This conversation was heading in a direction that he didn't want to go to. You were upset and that's why you left. There was no discussion necessary because everyone was to blame. If they didn't cause the Kugelblitz none of this would be an issue. But unfortunately, they did cause it so now they needed to focus on fixing the problem. With the two giant idiots now quiet, Five turned back to Viktor and let out a heavy breath before more calmly saying,

"Listen Viktor, Harlan is insignificant."

"You told me once that no one is insignificant." Viktor replied

Five went quiet as he heard his words thrown back in his face. He had said that because it was true. In the grand scheme of timelines and outcomes, anyone could affect what happened. But things were different now. Now, they were talking about one person versus the rest of the world. Yes, Harlan was significant, but he also wasn't. He was the key to getting in the door of the academy and saving the world but after that, in the grand scheme of things he didn't matter.

Viktor looked around at his siblings waiting for someone to say something, but no one spoke. In that moment, Viktor tried his best to appeal to the humanity in his siblings, by quietly stating,

"They'll kill him."

However, his appeal was met with blank stares from the rest of the group. However, it didn't mean they had thoughts on what he said. Speaking up, Lila stated the obvious fact of the matter, saying,

"Uh, so? We are talking about one person versus saving billions of lives here. I mean, is this really a debate for you people?"

"Hey, Little Britain? You don't get a vote." Viktor angrily retorted

"Lila lives in this universe too." Klaus finally chimed in "Besides, she's family now. Kinda, sorta."

"Thanks, kitten." Lila thanked

"I don't give a shit about the Sparrows," Diego interjected "But I'm not gonna let scary-ass Grandpa finish you off."

"Five days ago, he was just a little kid." Viktor pleaded "And what? Now I'm supposed to just decide whether he lives or dies?"

Although Five was still upset at Viktor's comments and was fully ready to hand Harlan over to the Sparrows, he still cared about his brother. And his brother cared about Harlan. It was difficult, but if they were going to save the world and all the people left in it they had to trade Harlan to the Sparrows. It was the only way.

"Viktor, we're down to ethical triage here, all right? We can't save everyone." Five explained gently "The kindest cut wins."

Stepping forward from the rest of the group Luther looked down at Viktor. This was difficult, but it was necessary. Viktor had always wanted to be a full member of the Umbrella Academy, do what they did, and now this was his opportunity whether he liked it or not.

"You always wanted to be on the team. This is what it is." Luther added, mimicking Five's gentle tone "Saving the world means making the hard calls."

"I hate this." Viktor replied quietly

"Yeah, I know." Luther sympathized before quietly stating "I'll go get him."

Luther started to walk past Viktor. He knew how difficult this would be for Viktor so instead of arguing about it, Luther internally volunteered himself to go. But before he could get too far, Viktor turned to face him.

"Wait, no." Viktor called before adding "Let me do it. He trusts me. I can convince him to come quietly."

Before anyone could protest his decision, Viktor had already walked passed Luther and gone up the stairs toward the room Harlan was in. With Viktor gone and the beginnings of a plan in place, the rest of the group slowly dissolved as most of them went their separate ways in the hotel until it was time to trade Harlan to the Sparrows. As the rest of his siblings and Lila walked off he stayed at the bar, pouring himself another drink and wondering where you went.

The thing was, you didn't really know where you were going. Driving away from the Hotel Obsidian, you made your way down the apocalyptic streets of the city. There were even more abandoned cars, missing posters drifted in the wind, and random items were scattered about the sidewalks. The world seemed to have no direction, but neither did you. Where could you go when the city you once called home was now a graveyard? Your brain was numb and while your eyes were on the road, you weren't particularly focused. It was as if you were driving for driving's sake. Trying to escape something, but you couldn't quite get away.

Physically you were alive. Your heart still beat, your synapses still fired, your organs were all in relative working order, but mentally, you had died. You didn't know where to go. Most places that came to mind were just another reminder of what you had lost. Your head spun as you thought of your friends. Their laughter. Their voices. You swore you could hear it, clear as day.

"Where are we going, (Y/N)?" You heard Addison ask

Hearing her voice, your eyes shot up to the rearview mirror only to be met with a set a deep brown eyes looking back at you. But with your powers, you could feel that no one was there. Quickly, you turned off into a side alley before parking the car. Closing your eyes, you placed your hands over them as you quietly said,

"I can't do this again..."

"Do what, (Y/N)?" Kenny's voice asked

You gripped tighter at your head as if that would make him go away, but you knew it wouldn't. And just like that, it was as if you were 13 again. Stuck in a new world, with no parents, no home, and all your friends gone. You were the one thing you never wanted to be.

Alone.

You had worked so hard to get the Umbrellas out of your head after you lost them. You pushed through night terrors and vivid visages of your beloved friends trying to return to some semblance of normalcy. You had pushed away the pain of their loss, half through brute force and half through the support of others like Grace, Eudora, and...Diego. But now, you had no strength to push through, nor anyone to lend you support. Yes, you had Five, but he had more important things to worry about, and so you were right back where you started. Sad, alone, and begging for the phantom visions of your lost friends to not hurt you any further.

Lifting your head from your hands, you looked into the rearview mirror again. Tears began to well up as you saw the faces of your friends in the reflection. You tried to find your composure, but could only manage to gain a few scraps of it.

"You're not real." You stated, your voice wavering

"Of course we're real," the vision of Lucas replied "We're your friends."

"I don't want this!" You shouted, the tears falling from your eyes

"But you want us enough to need it." Dean's visage replied calmly

Dean was right. You wanted your friends back so badly that your head was creating them for you. It was the same reason it did so when you lost the Umbrellas. It was supposed to be comfort, but it was still pain. And for as much as you wanted them back, you didn't have the strength to do this. It hurt too much. Your eyes shut as you held your head in your hands once more. Your hands covered your ears as your fingers gripped tightly at your hair. Curled up as best as you could in the driver's seat, you screamed,

"GET OUT!"

Things went quiet, and when you opened your eyes, they were gone. Slowly, you turned around to look at the back seat. It was completely empty except for a few items scattered about it. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you leaned over the console into the back as you picked them up. Lucas' sunglasses. Addison's lucky bracelet. Kenny's flask. Bren's leather jacket. You pulled Viktoria's phone out of your pocket and placed it in the pile in your arms. With each item, you pressed them against your chest, holding them close as you began to sob once more. This was all you had left of them. A car and everything in it.

You didn't know how long it took to stop crying, but once you did, you felt empty again. At this point, you had given up on miracles, but you wished you could at least have something to distract your mind. Maybe if you got some air something would come along to distract you. You looked down at the objects in your arms. You didn't plan on going far, but you couldn't leave them behind. You had to keep your friends close. Carefully you placed the objects down on the passenger seat as one by one you placed them on your body. You put Bren's jacket on, followed by Addison's bracelet. Kenny's flask went into one jacket pocket while Lucas' sunglasses went in the other, on the same side you wore Addison's bracelet. They were in love, you had to keep the two of them together somehow. And then you placed Viktoria's phone back into your pants pocket. With all of them accounted for, you turned the car off and took Dean's keys out of the ignition.

Stepping out of the car you locked the driver's side door, but before you could walk away something told you to open the trunk. You were pretty sure you knew what was in there. The bag of money Kenny stole, the bag of fanfiction Viktoria put together, and the miscellaneous clothes that your friends had worn prior to the thrift store, and yet you still felt compelled to open it. Walking to the back of the car, you stuck the key into the trunk lock and opened it up, and while you saw exactly what you thought would be there, the was one more item you didn't expect.

Dean's bow and arrows.

The only time he ever took it off was to drive and for some reason going into the hotel was the one time he didn't bring it with him. You let out a sigh as you carefully picked up the bow and quiver of arrows. Granted, it wasn't his old bow, it was the one you gave him, but even for the one day he had it, it was his. And with this discovery, the three things your brother loved most were all in one place: his bow, his car, and you. But he wasn't here to be with them. It was your job to take care of it now. Anyway, with your knives gone, you needed a new projectile weapon so it seemed that this would be your best option. Throwing the quiver over your shoulder you attached the bow to it the way you had seen Dean do many times before. With that settled you closed the trunk of the car, locking it with the key once more before looking ahead. Walking to the front of the car, you patted the hood as you said,

"Stay here, Veronica. I'll be back."

And with that, you started to walk down the alley you had parked in and took a look at the surroundings. On your right, there was the backside of brick buildings and to your left, it looked like that of a warehouse. There was something familiar about this place, as if you had been here before. However, you had lived in this city practically your whole life so many places felt familiar. But this, this was different. It was uncanny. And then you saw it, a set of double doors that you had encountered before. This wasn't just any warehouse. This was the warehouse you almost died in at 17. Out of all the alleys you had pulled into, you ended up in this one. It was almost funny the way the world toyed with you. In your timeline, this place had burned to the ground, but in this one that had never happened and so here it was completely intact. You stood in front of the double doors and contemplated going in. You hesitated for a moment wondering if reminding yourself of that day would be good for you right now, but it wasn't like your day could get much worse at this point, right?

With a shrug of your shoulders, you walked through the doors and into the building. Light came in through the dirty and broken windows illuminating the copious amount of dust. Machines sat broken and the place was abandoned as ever. You wondered what happened in this timeline for it to be left in this condition. In your old one, it was still functioning just severely unsecured. Making your way down the halls you came to a large opening, and found yourself in the same room where everything had gone down five years and two timelines ago. It was still terribly humid in the place, but the air felt mustier than you recalled. Looking around, you could practically see the events of that day replaying in front of you.

Melted guns on flesh, arrows to organs, broken skulls, snapped necks, drowning from the inside, you remembered how all of it played out. You recalled the way in which your body tore at itself from overusing your powers, the current wounds on your forearm and collarbone mimicking the ones you got that day. And then over to the side of the room you saw it, the now-defunct and most likely empty gas tank. Unlike that day when you had rushed over, today you walked slowly, your steps echoing across the floor as you remembered the events that occurred. The last drug dealer alive threw his lighter into the tank and Bren didn't notice as he began to run beside it. You stopped walking and looked at the spot you now stood in. It was the same spot you had jumped over to and pushed Bren to the ground behind you. You mustered all the strength you had left that day to use your powers and protect him from the explosion. All you could recall was the terrified look on Bren's face and then everything went black.

A selfish part of you wished Kenny hadn't saved your life that day. If he hadn't then you would've never had to live without your friends. Never had to fight multiple apocalypses. Never had to grieve their deaths multiple times. Never have been left alone like this. But then again, you'd never want them to feel the pain that comes with the loss of a friend. You knew what that pain was like before you had ever lost them, and you would do anything to make sure they never felt that. Perhaps it was better this way, better for them to die together and you to be alone, rather than the reverse. The last thing you needed was your death turning your friends into the Hargreeves, although you hoped they knew how to stick together better than the Umbrella Academy. Nevertheless, it was an isolating situation as you quietly stood over the site of your almost-death.

However, the quiet did not last as you heard the sound of a door slam in the distance. With the sounds of footsteps approaching, you tried to use your powers to lift a nearby pallet so you could knock out whoever was coming, but all it did was make you feel nauseous. It didn't hurt you to use your powers, but you still needed time to recover from the last energy wave and surely you wouldn't last long in a fight. As the footsteps drew closer to the room you were in you knew you had no choice but to go for a more direct approach. Pulling out Dean's bow and an arrow you lifted it up and pulled the string back just as Dean would've. And as the figure rounded the corner into the room you were in you let the arrow fly. At rapid speed, the arrow shot toward the unknown figure and punctured straight into...the wall next to them.

"What the hell!" The figure shouted

Wait. You couldn't see the person, but you certainly recognized that voice.

"Benjamin?" You questioned, a mix of confusion and annoyance in your tone

You saw as he began to angrily march over to you. His expression was a mix of shock and exasperation. God damn it. You didn't want to deal with this asshole.

"You could've killed me!" Ben shouted angrily

"If I wanted you dead, you would be." You deadpanned

That wasn't fully true. You missed lodging the arrow in Ben's shoulder by about two inches. Dean had given you a few lessons on using his bow and arrow and while you were a decent shot you certainly weren't as good as he was. The only way you could match his accuracy was in your knife-throwing skills, but that wasn't an option anymore. However, that information did not matter because Ben didn't need to know it. What mattered was figuring out what his plan was though. If he was here, he had to have some type of motive.

"Why are you here?" You demanded

Ben stopped in his tracks as he heard your question. His attention locked on you as he retorted,

"I could ask you the same question."

Pulling out another arrow, you raised the bow up once more and aimed it at Ben. Since he was closer now, you were certain you wouldn't miss him this time. And while you didn't want to insinuate a potential fight, you needed him to answer so you could figure out if he was actually a threat or not.

"We both know how capable I am of killing you." You replied firmly "Answer my question."

"Fine." Ben spat "Just put the bow down."

Slowly, you lowered the bow and arrow, but you kept them in your hands, ready to raise them back up if necessary. You stayed quiet, looking at him sternly as you waited for his response. You watched as he took a moment to assess the situation, his eyes darting at the room, the bow, and you before he answered,

"Since the Umbrella Academy killed Alphonso and Jayme yesterday Fei has been sending out her birds to keep tabs on them. One of them spotted you coming here, so I came to investigate."

Your face filled with disgust at the way he spoke. He talked as if finding you here was some sort of retcon mission and the fact that you were possibly being tracked since yesterday did nothing to improve your mood. But then the actual words he said processed through your mind and your stern expression fell as a sad look overtook your face.

"Jayme and Alphonso are dead?" You questioned sadly

Ben looked at you. From where he stood your body language was more relaxed than it was a minute ago and while you still held the bow in your hands, he had a feeling that you weren't going to use it again. When Fei mentioned that one of her birds had spotted you out this way he knew he had to come find you. There was something about you that puzzled him and he wanted to figure it out. He didn't even care that Fei snickered at him as he rushed out the door to find you because he had to. But if he was going to find out why you were in an abandoned warehouse then it would be easier to do so up close. If he could see your face better, he could read you better. Believing that you weren't going to threaten him harm again, he slowly approached as he responded,

"Yeah. The weird old guy with the Umbrellas, Harlan. I watched him kill them."

Harlan? Wasn't that the little boy that Viktor had accidentally given powers to? It had been 50 years though so it makes sense he would've been an old man now. You wondered how he came to be in this area if he was from Texas. Had Viktor sought him out or did Harlan find Viktor? Either way, it was upsetting that two more losses had occurred even if you only knew them briefly. You looked at Ben. Unlike your Ben who you could easily read, this one was closed off. You couldn't tell if the death of his siblings affected him or not, but you weren't one to take familial death lightly. Carefully, you placed Dean's bow and arrow back into the quiver. Even if you weren't his biggest fan that didn't mean your sympathy completely went away. With sincerity in your tone, you said,

"I'm sorry. You didn't deserve to go through that."

Ben paused, the slightest look of confusion on his face. He couldn't remember the last time someone expressed sympathy toward him. He tried to wrack his brain for at least one moment, but none came. No one had ever told him that he didn't deserve to go through the things he faced before. He looked at you intently, your voice was sincere, but he wanted to see if your face was too. He thought that maybe this was just a ploy to get his guard down, but when he looked at you, your expression was soft and your eyes, they were sad, but not in the disappointed way his family had looked at him before. Quite the opposite, your gaze was apologetic. You were genuinely sorry that his siblings had died. He stared at you unsure of what to say and slowly began to step closer, but as he looked at you he began to notice details about you that he hadn't before.  Parts of your body were covered with gauze, your cream-colored outfit was splotched with maroon markings that he now realized were dried blood, and your eyes that were soft and apologetic toward him were red and puffy as if you had been profusely crying.

Seeing you this way, it was as if something ignited inside Ben. He could feel as his heart rate increased, the beat of it drumming faster than it did on any mission. He felt infuriated. Not at you, but at the fact that you looked this way. His hands shook slightly at his sides and he felt like he needed to go out and fight someone, but he didn't know who. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stand seeing you hurt like this. With a serious look on his face, and his voice firm and steady, he questioned,

"Who did this to you?"

Your sympathetic look contorted into a frown as you heard his question. Your wounds, both mental and physical, were fresh. The grief and rage of what had happened not to long ago still coursed through your veins.

"Blame the people who killed your siblings," You spat "Their selfish inaction is killing me."

Ben scowled. He already didn't like them, but knowing this made him even more disdainful. He couldn't explain it, but part of him wanted to march right into that hotel and start picking them off.

"The Umbrellas did this?" Ben questioned, vile in his tone

"The black hole caused by them existing in this timeline did this," You stated gesturing to your wounds before gesturing to your red and puffy eyes and adding "And their lack of initiative to stop it, leading to the deaths of my friends, caused this."

Ben's contempt for the Umbrellas continued as you elaborated on what had happened, but there was a part of him that felt a twinge of guilt. When Viktor and Allison came to the Academy to tell them that things were disappearing he initially dismissed them. Now that it had become a bigger issue he did recognize the threat, but he didn't really care about it until now when it had affected you. He wasn't going to open his mouth and tell you that though. Right now you weren't on good terms with the Umbrellas, so perhaps he could get you with him on the side of the Sparrows.  It would be nice to have someone competent like you by his side. And also the Sparrows could use your strength. But to do that he had to continue to build some type of rapport. Trying to keep the conversation going, Ben asked,

"So why are you here?"

"I don't know. I just kinda ended up here." You explained, "I guess there's something familiar about the place where my friends' and I's fates were almost reversed."

"Almost reversed?" Ben asked curiously

"When I was seventeen I should've died in this warehouse. In this exact spot actually." You answered, pointing at the spot on the floor where you both stood "Only reason I survived was I took a massive dose of epinephrine straight to the heart."

Ben's face dropped upon hearing your words. His curiosity washed away and his gaze turned to look at the floor beneath his feet. He was standing on the spot where you almost died at seventeen. His body tensed and there was a pang of familiarity in his chest as wicked memories he tried to forget played in his mind. Seventeen...far too young to experience a near-death experience.

"How?" He asked quietly, his gaze still on the floor

Typically, this wasn't a topic you shared with others, but before you could stop yourself though the words just tumbled out of your mouth,

"My friend Brendon, Bren, he- he didn't know the gas tank over there was going to explode. He didn't see the lighter go in the tank and-"

You stopped. Your brain rushed with the events of that day again except this time everything moved slower. You had made your decision to jump in front of Bren in less than a second, but thinking about it again you recalled the one other thought you had before you jumped in front of him. You looked off in the distance toward the defunct gas tank.

"When Ben died, I technically didn't even exist. I couldn't save him. I never got the chance." You explained softly "But I could save Bren. So I did. I wasn't going to let history repeat itself and I didn't care what it would cost me."

Ben's gaze left the floor and back toward you once more. His eyes did not meet your own as you looked off in the distance, but he could see the pained look on your face. Mournful, sad, regretful. Part of him wanted to say something to you, that he was sorry for what happened, that you shouldn't have had to go through what you did, but it felt like the words were caught in his throat. He didn't really know how to articulate it because feeling this way was discouraged by his father. He said sympathy was weak, and yet you were stronger and far more favored by his father than him and still you were kind. But before he could find the ability to say something he saw you open your mouth to speak and so he kept his shut.

"But it doesn't matter because he and the rest of my friends are all gone and I'm telling you all these things because- I don't even know why!" You exclaimed frustrated before quietly adding, "Probably because you're the only one around..."

As you said those words you looked back at Sparrow Ben and for the first time his expression had no anger in it. It was gentle and...sympathetic. You paused. The way he looked at you, it was the same way your Ben would when he was concerned about you. When everyone else was off doing their own things during each apocalypse he always sought you out and made sure you were okay. And he looked just like that.

"What's that look for?" Ben questioned, noticing the change in your demeanor

"You just...look like Ben." You answered quietly, gesturing toward him

Ben's sympathetic look morphed into one of frustration as he exclaimed,

"I am Ben!"

Your face dropped as you heard his outburst. Your sad look changing into annoyance. He certainly was NOT Ben.

"Not to me. You're not my Ben." You deadpanned "You're Benjamin."

You were so infuriating. His name was Ben, he was Ben and you refused to acknowledge him as such. Why? Why wouldn't you address him properly?

"Why won't you call me Ben? It's my name!" Ben ranted

"You've never given me a reason to do so. You've never done anything to show me you deserve the name more than him."

Ben frowned at your answer. Everyone kept talking about this other Ben. This seemingly perfect other Ben. Why? What was the point of bringing him up? He was apparently dead while Ben was right here. And yet they all compared him to this other one.

"All of you treat this other Ben of yours like he's so special." Ben complained

"He's only special to them because he's dead. If he was alive they'd treat him the same way they treat each other." You snidely remarked "Poorly."

Ben looked at you surprised. Your tone was filled with contempt as you talked about how the Umbrellas treated each other. He could see your point though, they weren't quite a united front when it came to things and seemed to constantly undermine each other. However, your statement only covered why this other Ben was special to the Umbrellas.

"He wasn't special to you?" Ben asked confused

You let out a sigh. Quite the opposite, Ben was very special.

"No, he was. But it's because he was my friend. We worked well together, I saw him when no one else could and he listened to me when no one else would." You explained softly "That's what made him special. Who he was, not the fact that he was gone."

You missed Ben. When you told the Umbrellas he was the only one who treated you like family, you meant it. You made him feel seen and he made me feel heard. You saw him, you spoke to him, you gave him the recognition and connection that he had craved for all those years he was stuck with just Klaus. And he heard you, he noticed you when your demeanor changed, he sought you out and always made sure you were okay when no one else seemed to remember to. You respected each other. You understood each other. You missed the Ben who was your friend, your family, but all you were stuck with was his abrasive, confusing doppelgänger.

Ben stood still as he processed what you had said. He honestly didn't know how to react to your explanation since you spoke so kindly of him. Well, this other version of him. He was special because of who he was? Ben had heard something like that before from his father, but that was in relation to his powers and what he could do with them. However, special in that context meant to show how he was above others. In yours, it was a term of endearment. You liked that Ben. You cared for that Ben. But would you ever see him that way too? Ben tried to shake the thought from his head. He didn't like how easily you found your way into his thoughts. It was distracting. He needed to switch the topic.

Just a few minutes ago you had mentioned the black hole causing trouble in the world. Allison and Viktor had brought it up to him and Fei yesterday morning as well. Of course that was before they actually found it in the basement, but he wondered with your abilities did you know where it was?

"So this black hole...do you know where it is?" Ben asked, his tone indicating the awkward change in topic

You raised an eyebrow at him as you tried to figure out what he was getting at. Why would he jump from asking about Ben to asking about the black hole? Was he trying to get information out of you or was he just bad at conversation?

"Uh kinda..." You hesitantly responded, "I can sense its direction when a wave hits, but I can't feel its location without one."

"Why not?" Ben followed up

What kind of conversation was this? Could you even call it a conversation with how weird he was? It didn't really seem like he had an actual plan coming here and was just winging it. You were curious to see how this would play out though, it's not like there was much else of intrigue going on in your life.

"Because it's a fucked up black hole. It doesn't play by the rules." You replied before elaborating "When a wave happens, the black hole is releasing the potential energy that had built up inside it and distributing it across the world. As it does this it sucks certain things in with it because it needs more fuel so it can continue to sustain itself. When it's doing that I can feel it because its energy is disturbing everything."

"So you can't feel it now?" Ben followed up

Was that not what you had just explained? It's not like you were using a lot of big words or technical terminology. It's like he wasn't even paying attention. Did he actually care for your answers or was he just looking at you with a stupid expression just because?

"Were you not listening? Without a wave, it's in a homeostasis of sorts." You explained slightly more exasperated "All of its energy is contained inside of it while the outside is normal. Well, my definition of normal."

Ben could feel a slight heat rise to his face as you asked if he was listening. He was. Well, at least he thought he was. He was looking at you, and he was watching you speak, but the words seemed to fade away a little as he watched you. But he understood now, and to demonstrate his understanding he stated,

"Oh, so it's a paradox."

Okay, maybe he was listening to you. But if so that just meant his face looked stupid in general which was certainly unfortunate for him.

"Yeah, something like that. Schrödinger's energy." You replied "But that is for the Umbrellas to figure out. I literally don't care anymore."

A silence fell over the room. You looked at Ben and Ben looked at you, but there were no more words being exchanged. The silence wasn't awkward though, it just felt empty. It felt like there were more words or at least there should be more words. Maybe it was because you were lonely, but part of you wanted to talk more. Having someone to talk to, even if they weren't your first choice of person, was better than being alone and far surpassed accepting conversation with the voices in your head. But with nothing else to be said, there wasn't really any point in staying.

"Well, this has been...interesting, but I'm going to go now." You stated as you began to walk away

Ben looked at you shocked. No, no you couldn't go. He had only found you a few minutes ago. You had only just started talking. He hadn't even gotten a chance to get his bearings on the situation yet and now you were leaving? Where were you going? The only place you had was Hotel Obsidian.

"You're going back to the hotel?" He questioned

"And run into the life-ruining squad? No thanks." You scoffed back, continuing to walk "I'll figure out somewhere else to go."

Watching you walk away he knew he needed to do something to stop you and before he could even realize he had said it, Ben blurted out,

"Go to the Academy."

Stopping in your tracks, you turned to look back at him. You were surprised he had called out to you, but it was a decent suggestion. At this point where else did you have to go? You couldn't go back to Kenny's, you couldn't go home, and you still weren't ready to face the Hargreeves at the hotel again. And so, all that was left was the one place you kept coming back to. The Academy. With a shrug of your shoulders, You reluctantly replied,

"Okay."

Ben looked at you shocked. He didn't actually think that would work. He thought he was going to have to convince you more to go there. He had already started forming his argument in his head to try and get you to the Academy, but now he was at a loss for words.

"Wait? Really?" He questioned confused

"Yeah." You replied bluntly before turning around and beginning to walk away again

Ben stood frozen as he watched you walk away. He hadn't gotten far in his planning and once again you had flipped his brain upside down. You were so unpredictable. He hated how he couldn't understand you. At this point, all he wanted was to be able to understand you. It certainly would help to dispel the confusion he felt every time he interacted with you.

As you continued to walk toward the door you could feel that Ben was far behind you. Glancing over your shoulder you noticed him still standing in the same spot you had left him in. Encouraging him to follow you called out,

"Hurry up you cephalofuck!"

Snapping from his trance, Ben realized not only how far you were but what you had just called him. Cephalofuck? Really?! Quickly, he started to make his way over to you as he shouted,

"Don't call me that!"

You didn't respond though as you walked out of the main room of the warehouse and back to the door to the alleyway. As you retraced your steps to the door you came in you could hear the sound of speed walking behind you as Ben shouted,

"Wait up!"

You kept going though, and when you made it to the set of doors you came through, you walked through them back outside. Taking a step off to the side, you leaned against the brick exterior as you waited for Ben to exit the building. After a few moments, one of the doors widely swung open and you watched as Ben quickly looked around for you. Catching your gaze, Ben trudged over to you, his hands balled up angrily and his classic scowl present on his face.

"You could've waited for me!" He complained

"I'm waiting now, aren't I?" You remarked

Ben paused. You were so frustrating! You made him so frustrated! He didn't even know what to say. He stopped for a moment trying to find the words, but through gritted teeth, all he could do was point and say,

"My car is that way."

The way he was pointing was in the complete opposite direction of Dean's car and you couldn't just leave Veronica here. It would be wrong. That was your brother's baby. That car is your first niece. Her father was dead, you couldn't just abandon her. You'd be a terrible aunt for that.

"Yeah, no." You rejected "I'm not abandoning the car I came in. You want me to go to the Academy you either have to drive alone or get in with me."

"How can I trust you won't just go somewhere else?" Ben inquired

"Where else do I have to go?" You questioned back

"I-I don't know!" Ben exclaimed frustrated

"Listen man, you can either learn to trust people or you can get in the car with me, but I'm not leaving it behind." You explained

Ben was perfectly capable of trusting people. As the rightful leader of the Sparrows, Ben trusted his siblings to listen to him when they went on missions. Ben trusted his father's judgment. Ben trusted that civilians would respect him went he went out in public. Ben had plenty of trust.

"Fine. I'll go with you." Ben relented "But only because I can TRUST that my car will be okay."

Oh boy. Reginald had really screwed him up, hadn't he? This Ben had no clue what genuine trust was. Genuine trust came with vulnerability and from what you saw, he refused to be vulnerable. Part of you wanted to explain to him what real trust was, but twenty-nine seemed a little too late for an outside intervention. Instead, you gave a shrug of your shoulders and nonchalantly replied,

"Whatever cognitives your dissonance, dude. The car's this way."

Turning away from him you walked down the alley from which you came and headed back to your car. The only sounds you could hear were that of your footsteps and Ben grumbling to himself behind you. You couldn't make out the words he was saying, but you could assume he was ranting about you. It was a shame you ran out of fucks to give just an hour ago, maybe if you had one you'd care to coddle his ego just like you had done with the rest of the Hargreeves. Oh well!

As you arrived back at Veronica, you used the key to unlock the driver's side door, but as you opened it to get in you saw Ben stop. His eyes looked over the car for a moment, before judgmentally commenting,

"This is your car? It looks old as hell."

Technically, he was correct. Veronica was a 1967 Chevy Impala making her quite old, but his tone of voice mentioning that fact was off-putting and offensive to you. Veronica ran better than most cars these days because Dean took such good care of her. She was his pride and joy and you weren't going to let his snide remark slide.

"Excuse you, Veronica's exterior might be vintage but she was built for street racing and she runs like a dream." You retorted "Also, this isn't my car. It's my brother's."

"How did Diego get a car so fast?" Ben questioned

You grimaced at his question. While he didn't know any better given that you had referred to Diego as your brother the last time you spoke, you didn't like hearing Diego being called that. He wasn't your brother. In your experience, a brother was someone who cared for you, and now you knew, Diego did not.

"Diego is not my brother." You spat before adding "This is Dean's car."

"Who the hell is Dean?" Ben asked confused

"My only brother." You remarked quickly "Now get in."

Ben had a few questions about some of the things you had just said, but he could see your frustration building. He wondered if offering to beat up Diego would appeal to you, but his gut told him not to push the issue. With a curt nod of his head, Ben walked to the passenger side and got in the car as the two of you silently drove back to the academy. Ben wanted to say something, but he didn't exactly know how. He didn't think you'd react nicely to him talking about himself and his accomplishments as part of the Sparrows, but he also wasn't sure how to ask you about well...you. Everything you had mentioned so far was either surface level or something that had upset you, neither of which he could build a conversation off of. Instead of talking, he opted to look out the window of the car as he watched the messed up remains of the city go by as you made your way back to the Academy.

It didn't take long, but soon enough the two of you pulled up in front of the building. Without saying much you and Ben both exited the car and headed inside. As you entered the foyer, you could see Sloane walking down the stairs and when she caught sight of you, her eyes lit up.

"(Y/N), you're back!" Sloane exclaimed excitedly, coming over and giving you a hug

"Hello, Sloane." You greeted, hugging her back

As she held you, you could feel her hug getting tighter, and while emotionally you felt comforted by being held, physically you were extremely uncomfortable.

"Augh." You groaned in pain

Scared she had hurt you, Sloane pulled back from the hug and when she took a better look at you, she noticed the bloody bandaging on your hand and face.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" She asked concerned

"I'm fine, it's no big deal." You deflected

That was only partially true. You did feel better than you did right after it happened, and your injuries weren't actively hurting you, but the soreness that came with touching those injuries was still present. Your deflection did nothing though as Sloane pressed,

"No, you should have Grace take a look at you."

"I'll be fine." You deflected once more

"No, I insist." Sloane replied concerned "(Y/N), this is your home, please let Grace take care of you like she takes care of us."

With it seeming like she wasn't going to drop the topic until you agreed, you nodded your head and said,

"Okay."

Linking arms with you, she guided you upstairs to the medical room of the Academy with Ben trailing closely behind. Sloane didn't need to guide you, you had been here before and knew where it was. Nevertheless, you didn't pull away as it was comforting to have someone care. As you made your way into the med bay you sat down on the bed in the room.

"Let me go find Grace and send her here." Sloane stated

You watched as Sloane walked back out the door of the med bay and off to find Grace leaving only you and Ben in the room. He leaned against the wall next to the door, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked in your direction. Why was he still here? It didn't bother you that he was, but at the same time, you couldn't understand why he would want to stay. Your Ben always stuck around because he cared, but you weren't close to this Ben the way you were with yours. Did he care or was this some type of 'hero' reflex where he couldn't leave until you were deemed saved? You were sad and injured, but you weren't weak. You didn't need saving.

"You don't have to stay with me, y'know." You mentioned

After the words came out of your mouth you could see his face change. What was once a neutral expression dropped into that of a frown. It looked almost like he was hurt by your comment.

"Oh." Ben responded "Okay..."

You watched as he stepped away from the wall and walked toward the door. He looked back at you for a moment, his gaze lingering and his face still reflecting an emotion of hurt, before turning and walking away. Aw, man. You felt a little bad for sending him away. Maybe he was actually being nice and now you were all alone waiting for Grace to show up.

You sat for a few minutes in empty silence before hearing footsteps approaching. Looking at the doorway, you wondered if Ben had come back, but instead, you were met with an odd sight. It was Grace, but she didn't look like herself. Her wardrobe and hairstyle look almost cultish and she was missing an eye. As she approached she looked at you, but instead of the empty void you felt a few days ago there was something different behind her eyes now, but whatever it was it made you uneasy. You removed Bren's jacket and tied it tightly around your waist so that Grace could look at all your injuries including the one on your forearm.

You watched carefully as she undressed and cleaned your wounds, the peroxide stinging against your flesh as it seeped into what skin was still left open. At least most of the gashes were close to closing themselves. If there was one thing you appreciated most about your powers it was the regenerative factor. Carefully, she placed new, clean gauze over your injuries and when she was finished she turned away and quietly left.

After a moment you stood up from the bed you were sitting on and walked out of the med bay. Catching a glimpse of yourself as you passed one of the large glass windows in the kitchen you saw the blood that still stained your outfit. Since you felt better, you decided to use your powers to remove the dried blood from your clothes. Changing its state back into liquid, you pulled it out from the fibers of your clothing before floating the mass of old blood over to the sink and sending it down the drain. Now that you were all fixed up though, you weren't quite sure what to do, so you headed downstairs in hopes of finding someone in the house. Not Grace though. Someone other than Grace.

As you went through the hallways the Academy was quiet and felt empty. Even though there were far more people living here now than you had experienced while living here, it still felt so hollow. Walking down the main staircase you looked around the foyer before noticing Ben standing next to the fireplace, looking up at his portrait. Approaching from behind you attempted to initiate a friendlier conversation by jokingly commenting,

"Y'know, you'd be prettier if you smiled."

You watched as Ben slowly turned to look back at you. He seemed confused by your comment as he awkwardly began to smile at you, although it looked more like he was grimacing.

"I meant in the painting." You commented, gesturing toward the picture

"Oh." Ben replied, his grimacey smile dropped as he said "It was a serious portrait."

Walking over to him, you stood by his side and looked up at his portrait. He was so young in it. Granted he wasn't as young as Five was in his, but that didn't make it any better. His eyes were filled with sadness even if his face seemed neutral and his hand gripped the arm of the chair he sat in tightly. Charlie had done this painting and he always painted what he saw. You know that Charlie had mentioned in his journal that he didn't want to paint it given what you had told him about Five's portrait. And you could see why, it was nothing like Charlie's art style. It was somber and dark and what it represented was nothing that either you or him stood for. You looked away from the painting and toward Ben. His face was hardened as he looked at the painted version of himself. You didn't know what he had done this time compared to that of Umbrella Ben but you knew that he didn't deserve this as his consequence.

"Yeah, I know it was." You said quietly "I'm sorry you had to pose for that."

"Sorry?" Ben replied confused before stating "My father honored me with that portrait."

"Benjamin, I want to believe you're smarter than that." You replied "You and I both know, it's not an honor to have your portrait over the fireplace. It's a punishment. A reminder to not step out of line."

"What do you mean?" Ben questioned

"Five had a portrait too. Charlie painted it after he ran away through time, but it wasn't made in memory of him." You explained, "It was a reminder to the rest of the Umbrellas of what happens when you don't listen to Reginald."

Looking away from Ben, your attention turned back to his portrait over the fireplace. As you recalled it was the same spot where Five's portrait hand hung in the first timeline and that of your portrait too earlier in this one. You hated the fireplace portraits, they were nothing but a reminder of the control Reginald had over the Umbrellas, and now the Sparrows too.

"I hated looking at that thing, I thought about burning it every day." You commented

"Did you?" He inquired

"No."

Now it was Ben who looked at you, your eyes trained on the painting of him above the fireplace. The expression on your face was confusing, he couldn't tell if it was sad or angry. Perhaps both. He wondered why if you had hated Five's portrait so much you didn't burn it like you thought about doing. Personally, if he saw Five's portrait he'd consider burning it too, and more than likely he would follow through. Nevertheless, he was still interested in your answer as he questioned,

"Why not?"

"It was one of the only pictures where Five didn't have his mask on." You replied gently "I didn't want to forget his eyes...."

Ben scowled at your comment. Ugh. Why did you have to be so sappy about Five? What was so special about him anyway? Ben hated hearing about him from you. Ben didn't really know the guy, but something about Five just bugged him to his core. All Ben knew was that he was a jumpy little guy, probably the smartest of his siblings, and he was your...ugh...boyfriend. Whatever. Ben didn't want to think about him.

"Maybe you should've burned it if you hated it." Ben remarked

"Maybe I should've since having a portrait isn't a good thing." You replied before adding "The only good thing about your portrait being there is that mine isn't anymore. It's gone."

Ben's scowl faded away as he looked at you confused. Your portrait wasn't gone, it was just moved.

"It's not gone." He mentioned

"It's not?" You asked surprised

"No." Ben explained, "When mine was placed there it was moved to your room."

"Is that so?" You said aloud

All the times you had been at the Academy post 60s time jump you had never gone back into your room. It had never actually crossed your mind to go in there since you assumed someone else would've taken it, but looking back it made far more sense for it to still be there. The Sparrows were told that you would return like some messiah, so of course they would've kept your room untouched. Turning on your heel you walked away from Ben and back towards the foyer. You could hear from behind you as he called out,

"Where are you going?"

But instead of responding, you flashed away to the upstairs hall. Walking down the corridor you passed other bedrooms before arriving at your door. Opening it up, you stepped inside, and if it wasn't for the distinct lack of time travel nausea you would've thought you were thrown right back into the 60s. Just like your room at the hotel, this place was completely frozen in time with everything still untouched in its place except for the distinct portrait that hung on the wall over the bed. It was your portrait. The one Reginald had commissioned Charlie to paint as a birthday gift to you. Stepping toward it you looked at yourself. Well, not really yourself, but the idealized version of you that Reggie wanted you to be. The version he made others, including the Sparrows, think you were. As you stood there looking at practically a stranger with your face, you heard as a recognizable voice commented,

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

Letting out a huff, you turned around to see Charlie sitting on the stool of your vanity.

"Oh jeez." You muttered before remarking "Let me guess, my brain sent you since I shooed the others away?"

"Well, one person is probably easier to handle than six." Charlie responded

"Hallucination." You corrected "Not person."

"Tomato, potato. It's almost the same thing." He replied

You rolled your eyes at the phantom your brain had come up with. While his presence didn't hurt as much because you knew he died of natural causes, it still didn't please you to have your mind playing tricks like this.

"What do you want?" You questioned

"To watch." Hallucination Charlie replied candidly

"Watch what?" You asked confused

"Watch that monstrosity go away." He answered pointing at your portrait "Doesn't take a genius to figure out you'd get rid of this thing the minute you got a chance."

While he was correct that you had been trying to get rid of this portrait ever since you had first saw it, you couldn't do so anymore. Sure, you and Charlie both greatly disliked it, but he had put in the time and effort to paint you. And now that he was gone all that was left of him were the works he created.

"I'm not going to get rid of it. You painted it." You spoke back

"Laaaaameee." Charlie's visage mocked "Can't believe my death made you soft."

"It did not!" You exclaimed annoyed

"Then destroy it- oh what's the word you taught me...oh right!" Charlie retorted "Shitwit."

"Rude." You muttered

"(Y/N), you and I both hate it, so obliterate it. Make sure that by the time you're done, there's nothing left of it. Because that's not you. It's the you Reginald wants you to be, not the one I know you are." Charlie explained

If it wasn't for the fact that you knew he wasn't there, you'd truly believe this was your friend in front of you. He looked like Charlie, he talked like Charlie, he was Charlie without actually being him. You watched as he got up from the stool and stepped over to you. His green eyes were bright and sincere as he placed a hand on your shoulder and said,

"If you're not gonna do it for yourself, then do it for me."

Even if he wasn't here you still couldn't deny a request from your friend especially when you knew that if it was actually him, he would've wanted this too. With a small nod of your head, you replied,

"Okay. I'll do it."

Charlie smiled at you and for a moment you actually managed to smile back at him. You turned away from him and went to open the window of your bedroom, but when you turned around to grab the portrait, he was gone. You let out a little sigh, but you couldn't stop now. Taking the portrait off the wall you began to shove it outside the window.

As you were doing this though, Ben walked into your room. He had assumed you had gone here based on the conversation you had in the parlor, but walking up here took longer than just appearing here like you could. As he entered though, he saw what you were doing and a sense of panic began to flood his system.

"Hey! Hey!" Ben shouted frantically "What are you doing!"

"I'm doing what I should've done the day this was hung." You replied back

With each hand holding one side of the frame you ignited the wood and watched as it spread toward the canvas.

"No stop!" Ben exclaimed rushing over to try and grab at the painting "When I said you should've burned it if you hated it I didn't mean this portrait!"

You didn't listen to his panic though and instead dropped the portrait out of the second-story window and on to the concrete of the courtyard. As it hit the ground, the frame broke into multiple pieces and the canvas ripped into a few parts. The flames that you had ignited slowly started to consume the once-grand painting until all that was left was flickering embers. You looked over at Ben with a neutral expression while he looked back in horrified shock.

"Are you crazy?! That was a masterpiece! It was an irreplaceable piece of art! You destroyed it like it was nothing!" Ben ranted

He couldn't believe what you had just done. That portrait was one of a kind. None of the other portraits that Mr. Anderson had done even came close to the quality of yours. Out of all the paintings in the Academy, including his own, yours was his favorite. It was colorful, and detailed, and lively. To him, it was like a bright spot in an otherwise dreary house and now it was gone. He looked at you waiting for some type of explanation, which he got in the form of you stating,

"It's what Charlie wanted."

Ben couldn't believe you. How did you know this is what Mr. Anderson would've wanted? Yes, Ben knew that you were his friend back in the '60s, but he died before you returned. How could you be sure that he would want his work of art to be destroyed? Surely, if it was up to Ben he wouldn't have destroyed it. It was a work unlike any other. If it was his painting, he would've shown the world how magnificent it was rather than leaving it in the shadows. Not knowing what to say to you, Ben gave one last look at the ashes of the portrait before walking away from you and leaving to go to his room.

You watched as he left, unsure of why he was so upset over the painting. It was technically your birthday gift so you could do whatever you wanted with it, but you didn't feel good upsetting him. Sure he was kinda a jerk, but he was probably just misguided by his upbringing, and once again, he looked genuinely hurt by your actions when you were trying your best to be nice. Was your grief making it difficult to be nice or was his background stopping him from accepting a little kindness? He was so back and forth that you couldn't tell. It was like there were two versions of him fighting inside for who got to be present in the moment, a kinder, gentler Ben versus the colder, more abrasive one. Nevertheless, you felt it was only right to try and smooth things over, again, given that he was more tolerable when he wasn't in a mood. Following his path, you stepped into the hallway of bedrooms and saw that only one was closed. Approaching the door, you knocked on it gently as you called,

"Benjamin."

"Go away." He responded

"Okay, yeah that's not how this works." You stated before phasing through the door

Ben turned around in his desk chair to look at you as he complained,

"God, what do you want?"

You didn't respond to him though as you took a look around his room. It was different than that of his room in the Umbrella timeline. First of all, this room was bigger than what your Ben had. It took you a moment to realize, but a wall must've been knocked down since half of this room was what used to be Viktor's in the old timeline. This Ben also had a poster of himself over his bed which is something your Ben definitely didn't. But the biggest difference was what covered the walls of the room. Instead of shelves of books and walls filled with notes, the walls were covered in art. Sketches, drawings, and a few watercolors were plastered across the space.

"I see why you're so upset about the painting." You said aloud "You're an artist this time."

"What do you mean this time?" Ben questioned irritated

"My Ben was more of a writer. He also read a lot. He just loved literature." You explained nostalgically "When he was alive we'd talk about the stories he was reading for hours. And after he passed I used to go into the courtyard where his memorial statue was and read his favorite books. I liked to think that he was on the other side listening and that neither of us was alone."

Ben went quiet upon hearing your response. Without even knowing it, you had stated the reason why he was so upset you burned the painting. Even though he hadn't met you until recently, he had enjoyed talking to your painting. He'd sit on the floor of your room describing his drawings and holding them up from time to time. Your smiling face in the painting was usually the only positive interaction he had, and just like you with the other Ben's statue, he liked to think you had been listening on the other side and that neither of you was alone.

Ben turned back around in his seat, facing his desk full of sketches once more as he tried to shove his feelings down. It was how he was taught to deal with difficulty. It was supposed to make him stronger according to his father, but usually, it just turned people away. He was difficult. At least that's what he had heard a lot from others before they left. He wasn't really sure if he knew any other way to be since no one stuck around to show him any different, but after years of people walking away from him, he was prepared for it to happen. And yet, he didn't want you to go. He wanted you to stay. Maybe instead of holding it in, he might just give it a try to say what's on his mind.

"Y'know you're wrong." Ben mentioned quietly "I'm not upset because I'm an artist."

"Why are you upset then?" You inquired

"Because that painting was the equivalent of your statue to me," Ben answered honestly

As the words left his mouth, you could feel your gut drop. You recalled how heartbroken you were when Luther and Diego broke Ben's statue. It was like killing your friend all over again, and now you had done the same to Ben. Sure you didn't know what it meant to him, but that wasn't a good enough excuse. You had seen him try to stop you and you kept going anyway. Oh god, what had you done?

"I'm so sorry, Benjamin." You apologized "I- I didn't think anyone cared about it."

"I did." Ben stated "But it's just a painting. I'll live."

"I'm still sorry, but we could make a new one. I see that your forte is drawing people." You commented trying to make things better

We? Ben was positive he had heard you correctly and you said we. Not he could make a new one. We could make a new one. Quickly, he turned around to look at you as he questioned,

"You can draw?"

Like everyone else you technically could draw, but when people asked 'can you do x thing?' they typically were asking if you could do that thing well. Your drawing skills were not on par with your piano, your dance, or your science abilities except for one instance and so you hesitantly responded,

"Uh...yes and no."

"I'm not sure I'm following." Ben replied confused

"The only things I can draw well are buildings and buildings interiors." You elaborated "But people, animals, plants- pretty much if it breaths I can't draw it."

"You were friends for years with an artist that my father deemed worthy enough to do all the portraits of the Sparrow Academy and you didn't pick up anything from him?" Ben questioned

His tone didn't sound condescending, but the question certainly did. Yes, you were friends with a talented and successful artist like Charlie, but that didn't mean it made you good as well. The only reason you could draw buildings and interiors was because that was a byproduct of your childhood. Maybe it wasn't his intention, but the question did make you feel bad as you looked at the art around his room.

"Uh, not particularly. While he would draw people or comic book characters I would be drawing rooms and buildings." You answered awkwardly "But with art of this quality that probably sounds pathetic to you."

Ben noticed your shift in demeanor. Had he upset you? He wasn't trying to. He was just curious. Jayme had always told him he had a tone issue though, but he never really understood what that meant until now. Trying to course correct Ben quickly shot back,

"No."

"No?" You hesitantly questioned

"Look around." Ben said gesturing to his art "You see any backgrounds?"

You looked around once more and he was right, there were no backgrounds it was all just people. All the faces were strangers to you though. Even with no backgrounds the skill he had in drawing people was still enough for you to doubt your own artistic ability. Art wasn't your main skill, you didn't practice it often like you did with your other talents, you just had muscle memory from copying your mom and enough upkeep to not permanently lose what you learned.

"You could still probably draw a better background than I could draw a portrait." You stated

"Is that a challenge?" Ben asked

What? A challenge? He thought your compliment was a challenge? How warped had Reginald made his worldview that not even a simple compliment could be accepted without the prospect of proving himself? While you knew it was probably a developed trait and maybe even a coping mechanism to hide some insecurity of his, it was still annoying and triggered your underlying competitive nature.

"No, I was actually trying to be nice to you since I had upset you, but fuck it, it's a challenge now." You remarked back "You draw me and the part of the room behind me and I draw you and the room behind you, and whoever has the better overall drawing wins."

While Ben felt awkward that he had misinterpreted your kindness as competition, he didn't mind this new outcome. He liked seeing the fire in your eyes about proving yourself. It reminded him of himself and he liked the feeling in his chest that he shared something with you.

"You're on." Ben replied, a smirk coming to his face

Turning back around he grabbed a sketchbook, flipping it to an open page before picking up a pencil and an eraser. Turning back around he extended it toward you for you to take. Once the items were in your grasp he stood from the desk chair grabbing another set of the same items before walking over to his bed and taking a seat. He watched as you pulled the desk chair closer to the bed and sat down on the seat across from him. Getting yourself settled, you looked toward him as you asked,

"Is there a time limit?"

"And rush the art?" Ben remarked back "No. Just draw until you're finished."

"Okay, jeez." You replied looking back down at the sketchpad "It was just a question..."

As you looked away, an awkward expression came to Ben's face. Did he really have that bad of a tone issue? He was just answering your question. Nevertheless, his attention turned toward his own sketchpad as the two of you began to draw.

The room was quiet as the both of you worked on your pieces, the only sound to be heard was that of pencils moving across sketchpads. Occasionally, each of you would look up from your papers, your gazes seemingly alternating as you both attempted to copy down the sight before you.

Drawing the room came easy to you. You had sketching the lines and angles of the bedroom and its objects down to a science. Every stroke of the pencil was intentional and the way you blended out the pencil marks in specific spots was methodic. You looked down at your hands and the dark graphite smudges covering your fingertips and softly smiled. Your hands looked like that of your mom's. Your mom the architect, the designer. Looking at your hands, it felt like a piece of her came back to life if only for a moment. But that moment was fleeting. Your drawing was nice to be sure, and if an average person saw it they'd probably be impressed, but it still wasn't close to the level of skill your mom had. And unfortunately, you'd never get to learn her tricks because she was gone.

Looking down at your drawing it was almost complete except for the blank oval in the middle of the page where you were supposed to draw Ben. You already knew this wasn't going to go well, but you still had to try. If there was ever a time for a hallucination version of Charlie to appear it was now, so he could give you advice on how to not fuck this up. But alas, he decided not to show so you were left to your own devices. Trying your best to remember what he would do, you started out with just a bunch of shapes in the general form of a body. Somehow, even though it was just shapes, it already looked bad. Your only hope was that by adding details it would somehow come together, so you started by drawing his polo shirt, his pants, and his hair.

And then you came to his face. You tried your best to capture his features, but with his head constantly being down looking at his paper all you could see was the right side of his face. Part of you wanted to draw an angry frowny face and call it a day but the detail-oriented part of you wouldn't let it happen. You saw as he looked up at you for a moment before turning his head back down, but in that moment you briefly caught sight of something on his left cheek. Leaning forward, you gently reached a hand out to try and tilt his face toward you, but the second your fingers brushed his skin Ben pulled back. With his gaze on you, you clearly saw what had caught your attention. It was a scar. Pulling your hand back slightly, you looked back at him waiting for him to say something.

But Ben didn't respond, he only looked at you shocked. The thing was, he wasn't shocked that you had touched him. Plenty of people had touched him before, whether it was his siblings in training, an enemy he was fighting, a persistent fan who just had to get their hands on him, or one of the girls at the clubs he would go to with Christopher, whose name he had forgotten right after they said it. He was no stranger to unexpected touch, but all those times it was aggressive, demanding, rough. But your touch, it was gentle.

No one had ever done that before...

"I just wanted to see it for my drawing." You said quietly

There was that sincerity in your tone again. Something about it made him pause and as his eyes darted over your face, he could see that your expression seemed almost worried, as if you were concerned you had scared him. You hadn't, at least not in the way you probably thought you did. It wasn't your action that had worked up his nerves, but the feeling he got from it. He felt fuzzy inside. Slowly, he leaned his face back toward your hand before hesitating. He wanted to feel your touch again, but for a moment his brain wondered if this was some type of scheme to catch him off guard. He looked at you once more, but your expression was the same worried look as you softly added,

"I wasn't gonna hurt you."

As you said those words Ben felt a twinge of...regret. It was an odd feeling since he had only felt this way a few times before, but the feeling was there. As your hand slowly began to pull back, he quickly leaned in, causing your fingertips to touch his scar once more.

You now looked at him shocked, your fingers pulling just centimeters away from his face, but quickly you realized what his action meant. It meant he trusted you. He trusted you wouldn't hurt him. It felt like a bit of a switch-up from the Ben you had interacted with thus far but, you were the type to reciprocate energy. If he was going to trust you a little, you could trust him back. Gently, you placed the tips of your middle and ring finger back on his cheek as you carefully traced his scar. Ben closed his eyes as your fingers brushed the permanent mark on his face. For once, he seemed calm.  You wondered if he had ever actually felt calm before. You knew from the Umbrellas that the life of a Hargreeves was not one that knew peace, and with the way the Sparrows were you could only assume the concept of peace was even more foreign and warped to them. As you looked over his scar you wondered how he got it.

"Hmm." You hummed

"What?" Ben asked, his eyes opening back up to look at you

"It's odd." You stated, "We don't typically do this."

"We?" Ben questioned curiously

"I've found it's rare for people like us, people with powers, to have visible scars." You commented, "Whatever happened, it must've been pretty bad to leave a lasting mark."

Ben looked down as he recalled the circumstances in which he got his scar. Even years after it happened he tried not to remember that day given its significance, but he couldn't help it. The memory flashed in his mind like a cruel reminder of his greatest mistake.

"Yeah...it was bad." Ben mumbled, "I failed."

"Was it the Jennifer Incident?" You asked

Ben looked up at you, the traces of hurt he felt from his memory quickly dissipating as he looked at you confused.

"No? I don't even know a Jennifer." Ben stated before asking "What is that?"

You looked back at him nervously. You had assumed that his scar was a different result of whatever happened to your Ben in the Jennifer Incident. Your Ben died, but this one did something different and managed to make it out with only a scar. But obviously from his response that wasn't the case.

"(Y/N), what's the Jennifer Incident?" Ben asked again

"It's uh-" You hesitantly responded "It's how Ben died."

"What happened?" Ben pressed

Pulling your hand back from Ben's face, you sat back in your seat, looked at the floor for a moment, and let out a small sigh. And as you looked back up at him, he could see grief in your eyes, similar to the look you had when he first found you at the warehouse.

"That's the thing. I don't know. No one would tell me anything except that it was a tragedy." You explained sadly

You looked around Sparrow Ben's room. You had to look anywhere but at him. He had everything of your Ben's. His face, his voice, his name, and yet he was still practically a stranger. The worst part though was that even though he was a stranger in your friend's body, you could see flickers of your Ben in him. There was his care and concern somewhere in there. His sense of understanding peeked through the bars of the tough persona Sparrow Ben put on. But it was the way he listened to you, that reminded you of Ben the most. It was so easy the way you could just start rambling to your Ben, and he sat listening and engaged, and somehow this one was the same. He was listening when no one else was.

"I asked Diego a few times over the years thinking that it was my age that was the issue. Y'know, don't tell a traumatized thirteen-year-old how their friend died. But when I got the same script over and over, I kinda stopped asking." You continued

"Same script?" Ben questioned

As you thought back to those times you asked you could feel a mix of emotions build in you. There was the obvious grief remembering your friend who was gone, especially when you were sitting across from someone who shared his name, and face, and currently a part of his personality you missed. Then there was the frustration that you never learned what happened. And finally the anger at the response that you were always given.

"Yeah." You scoffed before reciting in a mocking tone "It was a tragic accident. Ben died because we failed as a team. Nobody was responsible yet we all were responsible. Ben Hargreeves represented the best of us. Ben was the Umbrella Academy."

Crossing your arms over your chest your eyes finally met Ben's once more. The amalgamation of your feelings reflecting on your face as you complained,

"It's a bunch of avoidant bullshit if you ask me."

You looked away again as silence took over the room. Your mind wandering away from thinking about Ben's death and instead focusing on Diego's resistance to tell you what happened. All the times you asked, he could've just stated what happened, but instead, he always recited the same stupid script. Your eyes moved to the floor and your voice was low as you broke the silence mentioning,

"I guess he never trusted me enough to tell me the truth..."

As Ben saw the change in your demeanor he could feel a tightness build in his chest. It was similar to the feeling he got when his Dad would reprimand the Sparrows after a mission, but not quite the same. There was that feeling of something wrong, but less in a disappointment way and more of a drive to do something. He wasn't particularly interested in having you reconcile with the Umbrellas, they were assholes and the less you wanted to be around them the more time you would spend with him. However, he still felt inclined to do something. Trying to change the subject, he switched back to the original topic as he inquired,

"So what about you?"

"What about me?" You asked confused, looking back at him

"So you don't have scars?" Ben asked

"Oh. Typically no." You answered before explaining "When I was sixteen I tore up the entire left side of my face. It was really bad, but by the next morning it was like it never happened."

"What happened?" Ben asked

"It was..." You began to speak

But then you stopped as you recalled that day, the memories playing in your mind like a bad movie. As you shut your eyes you could hear Diego and Eudora's voices shouting at each other. You could see the anger on their faces and the hurt in their eyes as the fought. A chill ran down your spine as you remembered the cold downpour of rain that washed over you are you rode your bike away from the scene and you winced as you recalled the pain of your face scraping against concrete.

Ben watched as you winced and your expression filled with pain. He already could tell that whatever you were remembering, it wasn't good. It was the same way he'd react to his bad memories before he started pushing down the feeling. Shit. He was trying to make you feel better, not worse. God, why was he so bad at trying to be good? You made it look so easy.

"Forget I asked." Ben quickly dismissed

Opening your eyes, you looked back at him as you tried to push the thoughts away.

"No, it's fine. It was...it was an accident." You finished answering before redirecting the conversation "But I mean, I do have these few scars from earlier when the Kugelblitz tore into me. They've already begun to heal over though."

You gestured toward the bandages that covered your gashes. Your injuries didn't sting much anymore, but when you moved the parts of your body they were on you could still tell they were there. Pulling the bandaging off your cheek you showed Ben the scar that was there. You watched as Ben reached his hand out slightly before pausing.

"Can I?" Ben asked

You nodded your head and Ben fully reached his hand out to trace your scar just as you had done to him. In a way, you were like him the way you were marked by a tragic event. Your scar was noticeable but faded like his, but while his scar curved downward yours went across your cheek. However, he had his scar for years while yours was apparently only acquired this morning and yet they were the same amount of healed. He wondered why others' injuries faded away so quickly while he was stuck with a constant reminder of his failure. Then again, was it actually easier to move on from a failure by having all reminders of that pain fade away quickly or would that lack of healing cause more pain in the long run? Either way, you both had been hurt by life and it seemed like neither of you was quite as healed as you liked to think you were.

"It's so faded." Ben commented

"Yeah," You responded "It'll be gone soon enough, like it never happened."

"But it did." Ben stated gently

You looked at him. His tone wasn't harsh when he said it, on the contrary, his tone was actually empathetic, but it hit you like a ton of bricks. It did happen. You may not physically bear your scars but they were there. These moments in time that had hurt you were real. They happened.

"It did." You said quietly

As Ben looked back at you, his expression was neutral, but you could almost see the corners of his mouth curve up as he mentioned,

"Well, until then it seems we're matching."

"Yeah, I guess we are" You replied before asking "Should we finish drawing?"

"Huh?" Ben said confused

"Should we finish drawing or have you given up on competing?" You taunted, gesturing to the sketchbooks in each of your laps

Ben looked down at his sketchbook before looking back at you. He had completely forgotten all about drawing, but as he heard the taunt in your tone his competitive spirit came back in full force.

"Absolutely not." Ben scoffed

"Then get drawing, Benjamin." You remarked as you picked back up your sketchbook

As your head tilted down to look back at your drawing, Ben picked his pencil and sketchbook back up and began to draw once more. Finishing the details of the wall behind you, he started to work on drawing you, but as he did so he noticed details he hadn't before. He noticed the way your hair fell around your face and how you kept having to push a particular strand out of the way. He noticed the way your eyebrows scrunched and how you bit your bottom lip when you were thinking about something. He noticed the way sunlight from the window fell on you giving you a golden glow. He noticed you. And so he drew what he saw, but it was a tedious process as he felt what he had created wasn't exactly right. He wanted the details he noticed to reflect on the page, but it took time and time again for him to feel what he had created was good enough. His poor eraser had been absolutely demolished between all the revisions he had made, but at a certain point, he finally felt happy with what he had created. And when he looked up from his sketchbook he saw you sitting there twirling your pencil between your fingers.

Seeing Ben look toward you, you assumed he was most likely done as you asked,

"Finished?"

"Yeah." He responded

"Alright then, you go first." You commented

You watched as Ben turned around his sketchbook to show you his drawing and when you saw it you were highly impressed. The background of his drawing wasn't quite as detailed or emphasized as yours was, but it certainly showed his skill for perspective. Where he really focused his detailing though was his drawing of you. It was quite different from drawings you had seen of yourself before. Most of them had been made by Charlie, and while he was a master of realism he typically drew you very stylized, like a comic book character. Ben's drawing however was somewhere in the middle, it wasn't quite one-to-one realism, but you could definitely tell that it was you. A very pretty version of you nonetheless.

"Wow, the only other person to ever draw me was Charlie,' You mentioned, "Your style is so different from his."

"Why? Is it bad?" Ben questioned

"No, it's amazing!" You replied enthusiastically "If only you could pursue art full-time. I think you'd really go far."

Ben paused a moment. He never really thought about life outside the Sparrow Academy. The Sparrow Academy was his everything. He was always told that his only responsibility was protecting the world so the thought of doing anything else seemed farfetched. Did you really think he could succeed at anything other than being a superhero?

"You think so?" Ben asked sincerely

"I know so." You stated confidently

It was odd. The confidence in your answer made Ben want to believe you, but believing you that he could succeed at something other than being a Sparrow meant that the last 29 years of his life were mostly a waste. And that was a thought he didn't want to confront. Pushing the topic away, Ben replied,

"Okay. Your turn."

"Right!" You exclaimed as you looked at your drawing

You looked at the details of the room you had drawn and you knew they would make your mom proud. Not that she ever wasn't proud of you, she always was, but knowing you were able to mimic her passion if only for a moment felt good. But then you looked at your drawing of Ben and...

Fuck.

He looked like a poorly drawn anime character...if you could even call it that. It was only comparable to when the Ouran High School Host Club characters were drawn with less detail to be funny. Except they had done that on purpose, and you, you definitely had not. Why did you let your competitive nature get the best of you? Why did you agree to this? You knew you couldn't draw people. This was a bad idea from the start. Granted the room you drew looked great, but the messy figure in the center really retracted from it. Letting out a defeated sigh you slowly turned the sketchbook around to show Ben and watched his face go through a journey as he looked at it.

"You're right. You are good at drawing rooms. The details are lifelike." Ben commented

You could tell his comment was genuine, but you could feel him holding back more thoughts. Surprised that he hadn't outright insulted your work, you prompted him to speak,

"But?"

"I don't look like that." Ben remarked flatly

"I told you I'm not good at drawing people!" You shot back defensively "I can only do backgrounds."

"And I said the background is good!" Ben responded, "It's just I've seen better art of myself before..."

"You know what?" You questioned snarkily "You wanna know what you really look like?"

"What do I really look like?" Ben inquired sarcastically

Angrily you flipped to the next page of the sketchbook as you quickly scribbled a drawing on it. It was not detailed in the slightest, but it was far more accurate.

"Like this." You stated

As you turned the notebook around, Ben saw your new drawing of him. It was a crudely drawn octopus with an angry frowny face. Ha ha. How clever.

"I definitely don't look like that." Ben replied unamused

"Yes, you do." You remarked playfully, as you held the drawing up next to his face "Your face is doing the same angry scrunch now."

"Whatever." Ben dismissed before asking "So if art is my thing, what's yours?"

"Well, I'm good at a lot of things."

"Well drawing people surely isn't on that list." Ben joked

"Shut up!" You snapped before calmly adding "But piano is the one I'm known for."

Ben recalled moments throughout his life when he heard mentions of your musical ability. He remembered a time when he and his siblings were pressing keys on the piano in the parlor, and when their father heard he stated they shouldn't even try to learn because it wouldn't compare to your ability. There were also the times when Pogo played his classical music records and would tell the Sparrows of his memories of you playing piano for him when he was a young chimp and how lovely the music was. Your ability to play piano was always described as something incredible and he always imagined being able to hear it himself.

"Oh, right." Ben commented "I bet you play beautifully,"

Ben paused. That was weird. Why did he say that? Trying to move away from it, Ben quickly added,

"So I've heard at least..."

"I can show you." You offered

"I'd like that." Ben replied gently

Your lips upturned into a small smile. You liked being around him a lot more when he was kind like this. It reminded you of Ben. Standing up from your seat you extended your hand out toward him.

Gently, he took your hand. He sat still for a moment letting the electricity of your touch flow through him. Your skin was soft and so was the way you held his hand. Ben felt as you pulled his hand closer to you, beckoning him to stand. Standing up he looked down at you, a tender smile on his face and he continued to hold your hand. It felt like a bright warmth surrounded the two of you as you stood together. However, just as soon as he was standing, your hand pulled away and as you turned to walk away, the warmth of being close to you faded. Although you couldn't see it, his smile dropped for a moment. He liked being close to you.

As you made it to Ben's bedroom doorway you turned back to look at him only to find that he wasn't following you. Weird. You thought you were going to show him your piano skills. Your head tilted slightly as you asked confused,

"Are we going to the piano together or not?"

Together.

Ben perked up at that word. His small smile returned as he walked over to you and replied,

"Absolutely. Let's go."

But while you made your way down to the parlor, Five was stuck in the lobby of the Hotel Obsidian. After everyone had left, Five had sat and waited at the bar for the time when Viktor would bring Harlan down for the trade with the Sparrows. Even with Viktor's rude comments earlier, Five could understand the difficulty of giving Harlan up. Viktor cared for him and while that was nice it definitely wasn't worth sending the entire world down the drain over. Harlan had apparently caused some difficulties to the point that the Sparrows were willing to work with the Umbrellas if Harlan was sacrificed. And so he had to be. There was no other way.

Sipping on another drink Five wondered where you were. You could've gone back to Kenny's house since you always mentioned in your diary that it was the main hangout spot for your group. But then again, that could be upsetting since there were so many memories there. Or perhaps you had gone back to your childhood home. It was completely empty given the fact that your parents never got a chance to meet in this timeline, but maybe there was still some comfort to be found there. Or you were somewhere that he couldn't even predict. Wherever you were he just hoped you were okay. He couldn't stop thinking about worst-case scenarios and all the ways he could lose you, especially after finding out his Commission Founder self failed to keep you alive.

Five could feel his heartbeat pick up slightly as the words his Founder self had written began to run through his mind once more. Rolling up his sleeve he looked at the phone number on his arm. You told him to only call in an emergency. Did his worry for you, his need to hear your voice and know you're alive, constitute an emergency? Currently, nothing was wrong.

Except for him.

He felt like his head was being pulled in a million different directions. The apocalypse. Witnessing his death. Your safety. His siblings' antics. Trading Harlan. Anticipating what comes next. The challenges he faced, the worlds he kept creating and erasing in his mind, they were exhausting. It felt like he didn't even have a moment to spare for himself. A moment to think. A moment to breathe. Every time he got one of those they immediately slipped away. All he did was survive and even then, another version of him didn't make it. Would he?

Five tried to push the thought from his mind. He couldn't question it, he had to survive. He had to survive for the same reason he always did. You. Carefully, he pulled the ring he had found out of his pocket. Trying to calm himself, Five looked at the ring in his palm and envisioned a life of mundane joys with you. Grocery shopping, taxes, household chores, taking a walk in the park. God, it seemed so nice. If he had one hope, one wish, it was to be able to live a simple life with you. His mind wandered to thoughts of better days and simple times by your side, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Luther asking,

"Viktor come by yet?"

Pulled from his thoughts, Five looked up as he saw Luther walking toward the bar. Quickly, he shoved the ring back into his pocket. The last thing he needed was Luther seeing it and asking him questions.

"Oh- uh- no." Five replied trying to collect himself "Not yet."

"Well, I'm sure they'll come around soon." Luther stated as he finally reached the bar

Five nodded his head at Luther's statement, but did not have much of a response to add. His head was still trying to switch gears from thinking about you to thinking about the apocalypse again. There was a silence between the two brothers as they stood by the bar together. It wasn't particularly awkward, but it wasn't enjoyable either.

Luther looked around at the space. Just mere hours ago he had gained and then lost a son and then was told that he didn't know what family meant and that he was a selfish, stunted adult. So far, today was not great. Your words had stuck with him though. Did he know what it meant to actually be a family? Had the Umbrella Academy ever really been a family to each other? There was only one period of time where he truly felt connected to his siblings and that was when everyone was the same age and they had you as a friend. Your words were hurtful, but were they true?

"Hey, Five?" Luther asked breaking the silence

"Hmm?" Five hummed in response

"Do you...do you think what (Y/N) said is true?" Luther hesitantly questioned

"Be more specific." Five replied, "She said a lot of stuff to a lot of people."

"The whole family thing..." Luther quietly replied, "You think she's right?"

"Well, I never think she's wrong." Five stated

Five's response wasn't what Luther was looking for. He wanted more of an explanation of why you would think that, and to his knowledge, no one knew you better than Five. He waited a moment to see if Five would elaborate, but when no elaboration came Luther pried harder,

"Yeah but like we are a family, aren't we?"

"In namesake I suppose." Five responded flatly

"What about beyond that?" Luther pressed "Y'know connection wise? We're siblings aren't we?"

"We are." Five answered before adding "But if what she said bothers you this much that means some part of you believes she might be right."

Luther shifted uncomfortably as guilt began to grow inside him. The feeling settled in his gut as he was forced to confront the reality of his relationships with his siblings and the way he treated them. And you.

"Maybe..." Luther replied, his voice low "I just...I don't understand what the difference is between her definition and ours."

While Luther may have forgotten what the difference between you and his siblings was, Five never forgot. That difference was what kept him going in his darkest of times. And if the truth of this difference would get Luther to reflect on himself rather than trying to get some type of relief for his cognitive dissonance out of Five then he needed to hear it.

"The difference is love, Luther." Five explained seriously, looking him dead in the eyes "We were raised on conditions and achievements and outcomes, but she was raised with unconditional love. We expect results from each other, her only expectation is to be loved back."

As he heard those words, Luther went quiet. His mind replaying moments with you from across his life. He recalled how nice you were when you were both children and the way you'd listen to his interest in space and encourage him to talk about it more. You constantly told him you were proud of him while his father never even uttered those words once. When Luther was happy, you were happy. He then thought about how you had acted when you were different ages. If he was cold to you, you were cold to him, and if he was kind so were you. You always gave back what you were given, but even so, you were still willing to help. You still cared. You always cared. But, besides Five and until recently Diego, they treated you like some type of stepping stone. You were a means to an end. There was no question about it...

You were right.

You had loved them and they just used you. They used each other. If they weren't a family then what were they to each other? What is family anyway? However, before the thought could eat at him more, Klaus sauntered up to the bar to join him and Five. Looking between his brothers, Klaus asked,

"What are we hanging around here for again?"

"Viktor and Harlan." Five responded, "Remember?"

"Oh right." Klaus recalled

Reaching over the bar, Klaus grabbed himself a drink before hopping on the bar top and sitting crisscross on it. A silence fell over the three Hargreeves brothers as they waited for Viktor, but it didn't last long as the ding of the elevator rang through the empty lobby. The trio looked out at the lobby and watched as Viktor began to walk past the bar. Seeing Viktor, Five walked away from the bar with Luther close behind.

"Hey." Five gently called out "It's time."

Hearing Five's voice, Viktor stopped in place. For the past few hours, he had been working out this plan to get Harlan to safety, but through it all he had forgotten to come up with what he was going to say. Freezing up, he could only stare at his brothers in silence.

Not seeing him with Viktor, Five looked back toward the elevators for where Harlan could be. He was an old man after all, he couldn't be far. But as he glanced at the back part of the lobby no one was there. Looking back at Viktor, Five asked confused,

"Where's Harlan?"

Still not knowing what to say, Viktor bluntly stated,

"He's gone."

Hearing those words, Luther immediately knew what had happened. It was honestly stupid of him and the rest of his siblings to think Viktor would do anything other than this. And in a way, this proved your point from earlier even more to Luther. You said they only cared to help each other when they needed something and that they were all selfish. Once again, you were right.

"You let him go, didn't you?" Luther stated

Realizing what was going on, Five looked at Viktor a mix of shock and disappointment on his face. How could Viktor do this? He was risking the sake of the world and the safety of everyone left in it for one insignificant person. This trade was supposed to be their entry into accessing the Kugelblitz and Viktor selfishly threw it away. If the Kugelblitz continued who knew what could happen to people? Who knew what could happen to you. Frustrated, Five turned his back to Viktor. He couldn't stand to look at him right now.

Viktor however was not of the same mindset. He knew his siblings would be upset, but it wasn't worth it to him to trade Harlan to the Sparrows.

"Harlan's death is not gonna stop the Kugelblitz. It's just gonna be another tragedy on a tragedy, and we can find another..." Viktor immediately defended "I will find another way."

"Well, congratulations, Viktor." Luther retorted "You managed to destroy everything. Again."

To Luther, your point of view was becoming ever more clear, and if there was any love between the Hargreeves siblings there certainly wasn't a visible amount of it. And just like you, he didn't want to be here anymore. He'd far rather spend his time with someone who actually cared about his feelings. Sloane. With an annoyed shake of his head, he walked off toward the front doors and out of the hotel.

Five watched as Luther walked away and for only a moment turned to look back at Viktor. He didn't have many words to say, but one thought did linger.

"I really thought you were smarter than that." Five said disappointed

With a roll of his eyes, Viktor silently walked off. Taking a few steps forward, Five watched as Viktor walked out the doors leaving the hotel. And then there were two. From behind him, Five could hear as Klaus sarcastically commented,

"Well! That went great!"

Five knew that Klaus' comment was sarcastic in nature, but it didn't stop the disappointment at how unfortunate this was. With one person's decision their whole entry into saving the world, again, was gone. Five wished that for once his siblings wouldn't stall or roadblock saving the world, but unfortunately, it seemed that was not something they were capable of. And while he already agreed with your opinion on his family, this just made him empathize with it more. Slowly turning around, he saw as Klaus took an actual seat at the bar rather than on it and reached for a nearby bottle of vodka. Feeling confused and defeated Five made his way over to the bar and sat in the seat next to Klaus. He watched as his brother grabbed two shot glasses and poured heavy-handed drinks into them.

"There." Klaus stated, sliding one of the glasses over to Five

"Thanks." Five replied

Today was a mess. Granted, most days of his life were a mess, but somehow today felt so much worse. He found out he created the Commission to save you, he found out that he was unsuccessful and you died, he watched you get torn apart by the Kugelblitz and lose all your friends, he watched your relationship with the rest of his siblings dissolve and you walk away from the Hargreeves family. And while all of those distressed him there was something about facing his own mortality that truly haunted him. Seeing his death forced him to confront his failures. If that version of him went to so many lengths to save you and the world and yet he still died old and alone, where did that leave him?

"I saw my future self die." Five mentioned quietly

"That's crazy. Almost the exact same thing happened to me." Klaus explained "But I didn't die, but I did, but..."

"He told me not to save the world. And then he died." Five spoke at the same time as Klaus

"I don't know..." Klaus added

"What do you think he meant by that?" Five questioned

Hearing each other's statements the two of them looked at each other with slight confusion.

"Well, shouldn't you know?" Klaus asked

"Shouldn't you know about your-" Five began to ask back

However, as he saw Klaus raise his shot glass he realized it wasn't worth it to ask and dropped the topic. Picking up his shot glass he gestured it toward his brother as he said,

"Salut."

"Well, up your ass." Klaus chimed back

Five shot Klaus a look as Klaus downed his shot, but instead of lifting his own glass up to his lips Five instead let some of his thoughts tumble out. Typically, he would tell you these things, but since you were gone he needed someone to listen to him.

"Klaus, I've dedicated my entire life to stopping the apocalypse. Apocalypses, plural. And he tells me..."

"Mm-hmm?" Klaus encourages

"That it's... it's, what? It's meaningless?" Five questioned aloud as he continued explaining

"Oh, well, I don't know anything- " Klaus mentioned as he refilled his shot glass

"Maybe that's his way of saying not to become him, but..." Five trailed off

Letting out a heavy sigh, Five finally downed his shot of vodka. Maybe the alcohol could help him feel better, but he doubted it. It numbed his pain, but it never made it go away. The only thing that could truly make him forget about his pain was you.

"Oh, you're really messed up about this, huh?" Klaus commented

He was more than messed up about it, he was pretty much wrecked by it. His founder self had failed his mission and died, and now here he was on the same path practically doomed to repeat history if he didn't find some type of way to change things soon.

"I've cheated time so much, I guess I just figured I'd somehow cheat death." Five elaborated "But it turns out, I die alone as a one-armed nightmare inside a bureaucratic hellscape of my own design."

"Spoiler alert!" Klaus exclaimed trying to lighten the mood

Five didn't pick up on it though as he was still stuck in his own head. Reaching into his suit pocket he pulled out the tattooed piece of skin he had cut off his Founder self, placed it on the bar, and remarked,

"Not to mention the trashy tattoo."

"Is this your skin?" Klaus asked intrigued as he poked at the cut flesh

"I'll be damned if I go out with an old man tramp stamp." Five retorted

"If you don't wanna end up like this guy, why don't you just do something completely different?" Klaus suggested enthusiastically "Completely different- Move upstate, lose your virginity, become an alpaca farmer. I think (Y/N) would like alpacas."

Five thought about what Klaus had said. He could do something different. And living on a farm with you did sound pretty nice. Just doing anything with you besides the apocalypse sounded nice.

"Yeah, I could. The timeline's malleable. We've proven that much. I could try and break the cycle, but-" Five began to reply before cutting himself off and asking "Wait what was that second part?"

"Don't worry about it. You'll get there on your own." Klaus reassured, "Listen, just keep your arms and extremities away from sharp objects, and don't join the Mothers of Agony."

"What?" Five asked confused

"The tattoo." Klaus explained, "It's the symbol of the biker gang, the Mothers of Agony."

Picking up his Founder self's skin he looked at the symbol tattooed onto it again as he questioned,

"You know them?"

"Like two timelines ago, they were...how do I put it?" Klaus elaborated "My farmacistas."

Finding this out, the wheels in Five's head began to turn. He may have lost access to the Kugelblitz, but maybe someone in the Mothers of Agony could help him out. If his Founder self had been marked with their symbol it meant there was at least one person there who could give him some insight on how to fix this mess. Rolling the tattooed skin up, he placed it back in his pocket as he stated,

"This is good."

Five began to step away from the bar, but before he could get too far he realized he had no clue where the Mothers of Agony were. Turning on his heel he looked at Klaus again who was already pouring himself another shot.

"Wait..." Five asked, "Where are they located?"

"Corner of Morgan and Grove Street." Klaus answered, "Pretty hard to miss with all the bikes outside."

"Thank you, Klaus."

Leaving Klaus behind at the bar Five quickly blinked outside the hotel. Rushing to the sidewalk he stuck out his hand and hailed an oncoming cab. Before the cab even came to a full stop Five had already opened the door and sat in the back seat. Slamming the door behind him, he looked at the cab driver and said,

"Morgan and Grove. Quickly."

Turning to look at who had just gotten into his car and requested a ride to the intersection of Morgan Street and Grove Street, the cab driver gave Five a once-over look. He was slightly confused as to why this finely dressed young man wanted to go to an unwelcoming biker bar such as the Mothers of Agony, but he didn't care enough to ask. With a shrug of his shoulders, the cab driver faced forward again and began to head toward the destination as Five headed to his next clue in the puzzle of saving the world.

While Five was headed off to his next destination, you had already made it to yours. Like usual the parlor of the Academy was empty. For something that was supposed to be the fancy equivalent of a living room it sure always felt dead in there. But off in the corner, you saw a familiar sight of the grand piano you'd play. As you walked over to it, Ben seemed to linger a few paces behind, but that wasn't really something you were focused on. Approaching the piano, you could see the lid was closed and covered in dust. How long had it been since someone touched this? Had it sat silent all these years? Wiping the dust away, you opened the lid and ran your fingers over the keys, not pressing any of them yet and instead admiring the feeling. There was something comforting about feeling the keys beneath your fingertips. Perhaps it was the familiarity, but as you continued to caress the ivories, your hand stopped at one specific key. You hovered over it for a moment, but with one press a single G note echoed through the parlor. From the corner of your eye, you could see Ben's head snap to look toward the piano, and as you turned to look at him a smirk came to your face.

"I see someone had an emo phase." You remarked playfully

"Emo phase? I don't even know what that is." Ben replied defensively

Instead of responding to him though you went back to playing the intro keys to Welcome to the Black Parade but stopped before the final note. Looking back over at Ben you saw panic form on his face.

Ben knew that if he corrected you, you would know that you were right, but at the same time, it was practically disrespectful for you not to play the song's intro in full. He tried to hold back and keep himself from correcting you, knowing that's what you wanted, but the frustration of the incomplete intro was too much as he demanded,

"Play the last note!"

"Ha! I knew it!" You exclaimed

You saw as Ben rolled his eyes as you played the final note of the intro and released him from his turmoil. Although now you were going to have to deal with his annoyance at finding him out.

"So is that all you know how to play?" Ben deflected

"Benjamin, do you realistically think that's all I know how to play?" You questioned rhetorically

"No." Ben answered

"Exactly." You stated, "Now, you can either continue sulking that I found out you actually might have some music taste or you come over here and listen to me play like you said you would."

Ben looked at you for a moment, watching as you pulled out the piano bench and sat down. You were worming your way further and further into his brain and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He wasn't against it, and he wasn't really fighting it at this point anymore, but it was still a little scary how you did it with such ease. Softly, you began to play the sound of an ambling melody as Ben finally walked over to you. Sitting down next to you on the piano bench he heard as you asked,

"Any requests?"

In that moment it was as if his mind went blank and he had never listened to any music in his entire life. He could say Welcome to the Black Parade, but he'd probably never hear the end of it from you if he did. With nothing else coming to mind he answered,

"Uh no, you pick."

"Oh, there's so many choices. Classical, musicals, modern piano covers..." You rambled as you tried to think

And then it hit you. The perfect song to fill this lackluster house with some vibrance.

"Have you ever seen Howl's Moving Castle?" You asked Ben

"No, what's that?" He responded curiously

"It's a beautiful animated movie. The story is touching, the art is incredible and the music, the music is iconic." You explained "The song I'm gonna play is from that movie. Now, it won't quite be the same without the strings, but I'll make it work and hopefully, you'll still like it."

"If you're as good as people say you are, then I'm sure I will." Ben replied

"I am." You stated confidently

A smirk came to Ben's face at your response. He liked your confidence. It was one of the many things he was starting to admire about you.

Looking down at the piano you took a breath and placed your hands on the starting keys and after a moment of silence, you began to play Merry-Go-Round of Life. Slowly, the beginning of the piece flowed through the Academy, it's enchanting sound filling the silent halls. Closing your eyes you embraced the nostalgic feeling you got from the song, and as it approached the first string part you used your powers to press more keys than your hands cover making it so that both the piano and what was technically the string portion could be heard.

But as you moved through the piece, duetting with yourself and bringing life to the joyless building, you could hear the sound of strings playing in your head. Specifically, you could hear the familiar sound of a viola playing the string portion of the song. Opening your eyes you look up and past the piano and there she was, Viktoria, standing there with a smile as she played her viola along with you. As you looked off to the left, you saw the rest of your friends, including Charlie, sitting on the couches happily listening to you play. You knew in your head that they weren't there, but for a moment you'd let your heart believe they were. A small, bittersweet smile came to your face as you let the music flow through you and played in honor of the friends you lost.

Ben listened in awe as the gorgeous melody of the song filled the air. Even though you were playing one instrument it was almost like he was hearing a whole orchestra given how many parts you were playing at once. As the music danced through the room, and Ben watched you perform with all your talent he could feel emotion build up in him, but once again he couldn't find the words to describe it. But he could feel it. The feeling was warm and made his chest feel tight and his stomach do flips. He didn't think about it much though as he focused his attention on you.

That was until he saw something move up above the two of you. Looking up toward the balcony above the parlor, Ben could see his three remaining siblings standing there listening to you play. Sloane smiled with a dreamy look on her face, Fei stood leaning slightly over the balcony railing as she watched intently, and Christopher slightly swayed to the music. And as the song crescendoed their awestruck reactions reflected Ben's own feelings as he knew they were recalling the same memory he had of their father from when they were children. But now hearing you play, Ben knew their father was right, your abilities were beyond compare. Even if they tried none of them would've ever gotten to your level of talent.

Swaying with the music, you closed your eyes and played with all the emotion you had in you. You put your entire heart into the piece, at least all that was left of it. And as the song came to its end you opened your eyes once more and saw all of your friends were gone. You could feel slight tears prick your eyes as your moment of peace slipped away, and you were reminded of the fact that they weren't there to begin with and they never would be again. All you had left were the phantom versions in your mind that both helped and hurt you each time they appeared. As you lifted your hands from the keys and placed them in your lap you heard Ben compliment,

"That was amazing,"

"Thank you." You responded softly

Ben could hear the hint of sadness in your tone. It was faint and perhaps if he wasn't paying so much attention he would've missed it. Nevertheless, it was there.

"What's wrong?" Ben inquired

Looking away from your lap and toward Ben you could see the concern on his face and you heard the care in his tone. You didn't expect him to notice such a small change in demeanor but it was nice. It was familiar.

"I'm fine, it's just a memory." You recalled "My friend Viktoria and I would duet the song together. She played viola so she'd take the string parts while I'd play the piano. I heard her playing in my mind, but I know she's not here."

He looked down at the ground as he felt a pit forming in his stomach. Two floors below you was where the black hole that took your friends and tore you apart was, but you had no clue because it wasn't actively giving off a wave. Part of him didn't want to tell you about it. He was finally having positive interactions with you, and he worried if you found out that this whole time the thing that had hurt you was right beneath your feet and he hadn't told you, there was a chance that those would stop. Then again you'd probably find out at some point either through your powers, his siblings, or your annoyingly persistent...boyfriend. Perhaps it was better if he told you. At least then he could say he was honest with you. looking over at you Ben called,

"(Y/N)?"

"Yeah?" You replied

"I want to show you something." Ben stated

You looked at him slightly confused. You had come down here to play the piano and now he wanted to go somewhere else? Seeing your hesitation, Ben added,

"It's important."

There was sincerity in his tone and you could see the serious look on his face. If it meant this much to him then you might as well see what it was. Nodding your head you replied,

"Okay."

"Follow me." Ben said, gesturing out of the parlor

Standing up from the piano, you closed the lid before following him out of the room. As you walked through the Academy, you made your way down the stairs, past the kitchen, and to the basement door. You looked at Ben concerned as he opened the door and began to walk down the stairs. What the hell was in the basement that was so important to show you? Cautiously, you followed him down the stairs and when you reached the bottom landing you could see a bright light glowing behind a wall down the corridor. You followed behind Ben as he walked toward the glowing light and as you rounded the corner you finally saw what he wanted to show you. You stood there in shock as you took in the sight of a bright burning orb floating in the air. It rippled and flared like a miniature sun and yet it wasn't really affecting anything right now.

"Benjamin...is that..." You began to question hesitantly

"The black hole? Yeah." He responded, "I thought you might want to know given well...y'know."

You looked at the orb silently. This thing had been the cause of most of your pain recently, both physically and emotionally. It was a danger to your existence and was continuously tearing apart your life. And yet as you, one anomaly, looked at another anomaly, you couldn't help be be slightly enthralled. You were born out of nothing and felt everything, and this black hole was born out of everything and felt nothing. The world was a sucker for balance and you and the Kugelblitz were opposite sides of the same coin.

Carefully, you walked closer to it. You knew it couldn't hurt you right now, as you described it to Ben, it was Schrodinger's energy, but you wanted to understand it more. As you stood about a foot away from it, you brought your powers to the forefront, rather than letting them linger idly in the background. With your back turned to Ben, your eyes glowed blue, and for a moment, it felt like nothing, but as you honed in a little more you could feel the potential energy of lying underneath the surface of the Kugelblitz. It reminded you of a pot of boiling water with a lid on top. From the outside, there wasn't really much feeling, but inside there was so much more going on. You could make out the feeling of the microbursts of energy beneath the calm surface and the way those bursts created more pressure inside. It scared you a little, how you were currently safe, but you knew that wouldn't last forever. Due to the "lid" it couldn't hurt you now, but the minute the Kugelblitz boiled over, it was gonna hurt again. And it was going to hurt a lot.

Slightly, you raised your hand toward the Kugelblitz to "feel" it better, but the moment you did so Ben grabbed your hand and pulled you back. But he was only able to hold on for a second before a rush of overwhelming pain coursed through his system causing him to drop to his knees. He grabbed at his head that now loudly pulsed as he let out a groan.

Your eyes reverted to normal as you returned your powers to the background. Turning around you looked down at Ben, as you reprimanded,

"Don't do that. Do you know how dangerous it is to touch me when I'm using my full abilities?"

"Do you know how dangerous it is to touch that thing?" He shouted "And what do you mean full abilities?! What the hell was that!"

"Literally the weight of the world. You just felt everything around us." You shouted back "My powers have an active and an idle mode. You could've killed yourself grabbing me when they're fully active like that!"

With his pain subsided Ben stood up from the floor and approached you. A look of frustration covered his face as he yelled,

"And you could've killed yourself if that thing decided to flare out! I was trying to protect you!"

You didn't shout back. Instead, you stayed quiet as you looked at him and in doing so you noticed something. The expression on his face that you thought was frustration wasn't actually such. It was concern. Genuine concern. yes, he had looked at you slightly concerned earlier in the day, but those times it still felt like he was trying to somewhat hide it behind some tough exterior. This, however, was out in the open. He was concerned and he wasn't hiding it...kind of like a friend would do.

"Okay." You responded calmly "It's an intriguing phenomenon, but I'll be more careful around it."

Ben paused. He felt good knowing you wouldn't get so close to the black hole but was confused by the fact that you weren't yelling back anymore. When he got into arguments with other people they just kept yelling until one person walked away, but you didn't walk away, you just stopped. It didn't feel like you relented either, you just calmed down and agreed. Was that normal for people? Because to him it felt...out of place. Not really knowing how to respond now, Ben replied,

"Oh. Okay."

You waited for him to say something else, but when nothing came you looked away from him and at the Kugelblitz once more. Ben mimicked your action and the two of you stood silently as you watched the glowing ball ripple. This was it, huh? The thing that was going to destroy everything.

"So does it hurt?" Ben asked breaking the silence "Feeling everything all the time?"

"It used to when I was really little, but not anymore." You replied "Well, except if Viktor uses his powers too much or that thing explodes. Then it hurts like a bitch."

"That sounds terrible." Ben remarked

Your powers weren't terrible, only the painful experiences that were a side effect of them. You loved your powers, they were an integral part of who you were and how you lived. Even when your abilities were idle you still felt everything and it was like the world was singing to you. For as long as you could remember the world was full of life and song and there was nothing you would trade that for.

"No. Excluding those exceptions, it's actually really beautiful. Everything has its own little hum and it's like a symphony that plays just for me." You answered, "What would be terrible is if it all went silent."

Your answer intrigued Ben. He certainly never considered his powers to be something beautiful. Until he learned to control his powers he found them to be mostly a burden, not that he would tell anyone that. And even now, they might not be a burden but there certainly wasn't anything beautiful about eldritch tentacles from a portal in his gut. If he could choose between his power or yours, he'd probably pick the versatile, deadly, and apparently beautiful one you seemed to possess.

"So what do your powers sound like?" Ben asked

"Oh well, it's less of a sound and more of a feeling. But it's like a loud feeling. Kinda like being next to a giant speaker-" You began to explain before cutting yourself off and saying "Actually, it would be easier to just show you."

Ben saw as you stuck out your hand toward him and looked at it hesitantly. He was interested in your offer, but not the associated pain that came with it. While it might not hurt you, it sure as hell hurt him and he wasn't sure if he was willing to experience that again.

Seeing his hesitation you could easily assume it was from the immense pain he had experienced only moments ago. Given that experience, he had every right to be hesitant, but you tried to ease his mind adding,

"It won't hurt this time, I promise."

Not getting a response from him though you extended your hand slightly closer to him as you asked,

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Ben replied gently, taking your hand

The word had come out of his mouth before he had even realized he said it. It had rolled off his tongue as if he had answered that question a thousand times before. The word came to him so easily, easier than it ever had before. Trust was a complex concept for him. The only person he truly trusted was himself. Even his trust for his siblings and father was conditional although some more conditional than others. And yet, as he looked at his hand holding yours, there wasn't a double in his mind that he trusted you without condition.

"Good. Now if you get lightheaded let me know. My friends didn't and they all passed out when I did this with them." You mentioned, "Also, if it starts to feel like your bones are vibrating out of your skin don't freak out, that's normal."

Ben's head snapped up from looking at his hand holding yours, as he quickly questioned,

"Wait what."

However, you did not hear his question though as you had already started bringing your power to the forefront more. The symphony of the world grew louder as you focused on emphasizing your abilities enough for Ben to feel them, but not to the point where it would hurt him. You were the only person who was cut out for fully feeling all that existed. Granted, it wasn't really a choice in the beginning, but it certainly was now and you wouldn't put that on another person unless they deserved it. As you slowly increased your focus you could feel the rhythmic hum of everything around you come together like an orchestra playing a song. Closing your eyes you peacefully embraced the feeling of it all and it was beautiful.

Ben however was trying to process feeling like his bones were going to vibrate out of his skin. You said that this was normal, but it certainly didn't feel it. As for his prior thought of wanting to switch powers with you, he immediately took that thought back. His heart was racing. Was he going to die? This was terrifying. More terrifying than his powers were before he learned to control them. How was this beautiful? But as he wondered if this would be over soon he heard you calmly say,

"Feel it, don't fight it."

He looked over at you. Your eyes were still closed and you looked peaceful as you took steady breaths in and out. He didn't know if he could stop fighting the feeling of his skeleton hatching from under his skin, but he was the one who agreed to this so he could try. For you. Closing his eyes as well, he mimicked your steady breathing as he tried to feel the same way you felt. For a moment it still felt like his insides were going to come out, but then the sensation changed.

Instead of one overwhelming vibration, it splintered off into a bunch of smaller ones. It felt less like an explosion and more like a blanket that surrounded him. Some of the vibrations were faster, and some slower, and yet they all came together in a coordinated way. And then he heard it. The loud hum you were talking about. You were right it was less of a sound than it was a feeling, but the longer he embraced it the more he understood your point. The way every feeling came together, it was like a symphony. It was your symphony and it was incredible. Opening his eyes, he looked over at you.

There was a peaceful smile on your face as the glow of the black hole reflected off your skin and as you held his hand he could feel that electric feeling rush through him again. And for a moment it felt like he couldn't breathe.

"I think I'm getting lightheaded." He stated

"Oh, that's enough for you then." You replied concerned

Quickly, and to Ben's internal disappointment, you pulled your hand away from him and put your powers on the back burner again. Looking over at him, you smiled as you commented,

"It's pretty right?"

"Very." He replied

Before you could say anything else, your stomach growled loudly and you could feel how empty it was. Huh. You were so distracted by the events of the day you totally forgot that you needed to eat.

"Hungry?" Ben asked

"Yeah. I haven't eaten since this morning." You replied

"Well, there's a diner a few blocks away." Ben suggested

"They got coffee?" You asked

"It's a diner, of course they do." Ben answered

"Alright, let's go then." You said

You took one last look at the Kugelblitz. You knew this thing, this frightening, intriguing anomaly, would be the cause of your demise, but you might as well make the most of the time you had left. And so ignoring the facts in front of you, you followed Ben out of the basement and back upstairs to go grab food at a diner. But as the two of you walked into the foyer to exit, you saw as Luther walked in the front door with Sloane. Whatever positive feelings you had just a moment ago quickly faded as you saw him. Your anger and annoyance came back in full swing as you watched him finally notice you. Part of you wanted to just turn invisible and walk outside the door, but the last thing you needed was Luther or Sloane stopping Ben because you walked out. Perhaps the two of you could get by them without an interaction. That thought was quickly disproven though as Luther awkwardly greeted,

"(Y/N). Hey."

"Luther." You deadpanned

It was obvious that you were still upset about earlier, and reflecting on it rightfully so. Granted, Luther hoped more of that anger was directed toward Diego although Luther did bear some fault. Trying to smooth things over, Luther began to explain,

"Listen about what I said-"

However, Ben could sense your annoyance. You didn't even like the Umbrella Academy members. You didn't want to see them, let alone talk to them. But beyond your annoyance, Ben could feel his annoyance grow too. You and him were supposed to be going to get dinner together and Luther had the audacity to stop you guys? Stepping forward, Ben cut off harshly,

"Does it look like she wants to talk to you?"

"Huh?" Luther replied, looking at Ben confused

You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to talk to Luther. Truly you didn't want to talk to any of the Umbrellas except Five, of course. He was the only one you weren't upset at because he was the only one who actually cared about you.  And this attitude that Ben was having about the situation wasn't desirable either. Sure, it was nice that he was supporting you, but you didn't need him to fight your battles. Especially when there really wasn't a battle to be had. Trying to avoid the situation, you walked past Luther to the front door as you called back,

"Benjamin, let's just go."

Ben gave Luther a dirty look before relenting and beginning to follow behind you, but right as you opened the front door you heard Luther call out,

"(Y/N) I'm so sorry about Lucas."

"Who's Lucas?" Sloane asked

"Our son." Luther answered

"What?" Sloane questioned confused

"I'll explain later." Luther said before repeating "(Y/N) I'm sorry about Lucas." 

And this was exactly why you didn't want to talk to any of the Umbrellas except Five because unlike him, they didn't get it. They didn't understand your pain, your grief, your anger. And they surely didn't understand that their apologies meant nothing now that it was already too late. Wasting your time with Ben was a decent distraction, but you still could feel that heavy, twisting feeling in your gut knowing that your loved ones were forcibly taken from you and there was nothing you could've done about it. You could feel emotion begin to build up inside you. Lucas spent his whole life through the good and the bad looking up to Luther and this is all he got in the end? A simple apology after he was already gone. Looking back over your shoulder at Luther, you tried your best to keep yourself together as you replied,

"Don't talk about him like you cared."

And with that, you walked out the door leaving Luther and Sloane behind.

"(Y/N)..." Luther called sadly

"Leave her alone." Ben remarked back as he stood in the doorway "Hasn't your family fucked up enough already?"

Luther wondered what Ben's deal was, but before he could try to inquire, Ben walked out the door pulling it shut behind him. Walking out the front gates of the academy, he made his way over to where you stood on the sidewalk. 

"You okay?" Ben asked

"Yeah, just caught off guard." You responded collecting yourself "I wasn't ready to face any of them yet."

"I can kick him out of the Academy if you want." Ben mentioned, "After all, it's our home, not his."

"Eh, it's not worth it." You rejected before stating "Let's just go eat."

And so the two of you walked away from the Academy and around the block to the diner

At this point, day had turned to night and a cool breeze blew down the city streets. The silence and the lack of life were even more evident at night compared to earlier in the day. It was eerie, but more so it was sad. As you rounded the corner of the block, you saw up ahead the place Ben was talking about. The neon sign might've said Greta's Diner, but you recognized the building immediately. It was Griddy's. Or at least it would've been if you were in the right timeline. You paused for a moment looking at the building as Ben continued to walk ahead. However, after a few paces, he stopped and looked back at you calling,

"Come on."

Picking up your pace, you caught up to him as the two of you made it to the building. Opening the door you stepped inside and took in the surroundings, getting hit by a wave of nostalgia as you realized they were the exact same. The layout, the color scheme, the entire vibe, it was all identical. 

"Well, this is the place." Ben stated before asking "Where do you want to sit? Booth? Counter?"

You looked around the place as memories rushed back to you. You remembered a few times with your friends, crowding the seven of you into one booth to enjoy some late-night pastries. There were the times when Eudora would take you here for a quick breakfast before dropping you off at school. And then there were the most important memories of this place. Your times with Five. You remembered sitting at the counter next to him on the day he returned back into your life, and those few nice moments before this apocalyptical cycle started. And then there were all the times you spent here as kids. You could practically see the younger versions of you and him sitting at the booth in the back corner. You with your jelly donut and him with his plain glazed one. You recalled the way the world would just fade away as you sat and talked for hours, day after day. It was nice. You missed that. 

Turning your attention back to Ben, you answered his question saying,

"Table."

It's not that you couldn't sit at a booth or the counter with Ben, but those places were special. If you were going to sit there then you should be sitting there with Five. Nevertheless, you walked over to one of the many open tables in the place and sat down across from Ben. While Griddy's, or well now Greta's, was never the hot spot to be, it never felt deserted either, but right now this place was a ghost town with only you and Ben in it. For a moment you even wondered if there was anyone working here before you saw a server finally walk out from the back. As she rounded the corner from the kitchen she looked surprised to see you and Ben there, but put on a nice customer service face as she approached the table. Seeing her customer service face, you felt bad for being here. You should've just tried to deal with Luther's presence and ate at the Academy rather than making this waitress serve you in the middle of a global crisis. It was too late though as she already had pulled out her notepad and greeted,

"Welcome to Greta's, what can I get started for you?"

"Coffee. Cream on the side." Ben stated before adding "Pork roll, egg, and cheese. Salt, pepper, ketchup."

"Okay." The waitress replied writing everything down before asking "And you?"

"Um, coffee and a plate of disco fries." You answered before quickly adding "And one jelly and one plain glazed donut please."

"Alright, I'll get that started for you two." The server replied, "I'll be right back with a coffee pot."

As the server walked behind the counter to get your coffee, you looked over at the booth in the corner again and thought of your boyfriend. As much as you needed this time away from the Umbrella Academy, you still hated leaving him. The only positive was he hadn't called yet which meant he probably wasn't in danger. Although, you wished he had a cellphone so you could call him instead of waiting for him to call you. Maybe that wasn't a good idea though. You were pretty sure he didn't know how to work a smartphone, and if his reaction to that vending machine that wouldn't give him a snack was any indication, a smartphone given to him probably wouldn't be functional for very long. However, that didn't stop the feeling in your heart of wanting to be with him. You loved him and you missed him. 

Soon enough the waitress brought back a pot of coffee, some cream, and two cups, placing them on the table for you and Ben. You gave her a polite smile before grabbing the pot and pouring some coffee into both, pouring slightly less in Ben's to make room for the cream he wanted. When you were done pouring, you placed the coffee pot off to the side and as Ben poured cream into his cup, he inquired,

"Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead." You replied

"Where did you learn to draw so well?" Ben questioned "I mean buildings so well."

You elected to ignore his correction knowing that he was bad at talking and probably didn't mean it as a slight. But as you thought about the answer to his question you smiled knowing exactly why you were so good.

"My mom." You answered softly as you reminisced about her "She was an architect and interior designer. I always watched her drawing buildings and room interiors so that's all I ever practiced drawing too. I like to think I got pretty good at it, but it'll never beat her drawings."

Ben didn't expect your answer. You were so intertwined with that of the Umbrella Academy that he forgot that you weren't part of it. But what intrigued him the most was the way in which you spoke. You responded softly, but there was a reverence in your tone and although there was a smile on your face there was a sadness in your eyes. You missed her. He wondered what it was like to miss your mom. Ben had no memories of his birth mother since he was adopted right after he was born and Grace was never really a mother to him, just a maid. What was it like to have a mom? What was it like to have a parent you wanted to be around and be like? Was it nice? It seemed nice. 

"Do you want to be an architect like her?" Ben wondered

"No, I didn't really share my parents' passion for buildings." You explained candidly "My dad was an engineer. My parents owned an all-in-one architecture, construction, and interior design firm. They loved creating buildings, but me? Not so much."

"So what do you want to do?" Ben inquired curiously

A question that used to be so simple was now so loaded. You didn't know what you wanted to do anymore. You wanted to graduate high school, but you never existed in this timeline. You wanted to go to college with your friends, but none of them were around. You wanted to have a life with Five, but that seemed like it would never happen. You wanted to be fully happy, but how could you when everything was so wrong? There was nothing for you to want anymore, only things you wanted. However, that was too much to put on someone who had only known you for a few days. 

"My dream was to go to college and major in Chemistry with a minor in Physics. Maybe minor in music as well." You answered "I wanted to figure out a way to put my powers to good use. Solve some unsolvable problem. I wanted to help people."

"Wanted?" Ben asked confused before continuing "Why can't you do it? Is it money? I can pay for you to go."

"That's sweet of you, but-" You began to reply

"But what?" Ben pressed

"Benjamin, the world is ending." You stated matter-of-factly "There's no time for dreams anymore."

No time for dreams? No, there had to still be time. The world hadn't ended yet. There had to be a way for him to fix this. He was Number One of the Sparrow Academy after all. He was born and raised to save the world. There had to be a way he could make your dreams a reality again. 

"Isn't there time to stop this?" Ben suggested

"Pfft, to even try we'd need the Sparrows and Umbrellas to work together and that's like trying to mix oil and water and then setting it on fire." You scoffed "At this point, my only hope is that I die in one piece."

"Don't say that." Ben protested "You never know, maybe it'll work out."

You looked at him curiously as you replied intrigued,

"I didn't take you for an optimist," 

"Sometimes we find reasons to be." Ben replied sincerely

Before you could say anything else though your food had arrived. And as you heard your stomach growl once more you knew it was time to eat. But while you and Ben quietly ate your food, Five was struggling not to voice his opinions to his taxi driver. 

Even with Five expressing the need for speed on the drive, it still took a good bit of time to get from the hotel to downtown where the bar was. Between the cab driver's insistence on following traffic rules plus all the detours that had to be made to avoid the droves of abandoned cars, what should've been a 20-minute ride at most took closer to an hour. And with each passing minute, Five grew more frustrated. He needed to get to this bar. What if the person he was looking for wasn't there by the time he got there all because of this specific cab driver? Like most other things there wasn't much Five could do but it was still quicker than walking to the place. From a block away, Five could see the glowing lights of the bar sign and headlights. However, instead of continuing to drive, the cab pulled off to the side of the road and parked the car before looking at Five in the rearview mirror.

"This is as far as I'll take ya, kid." The cab driver said, "Those bikers ain't the neighborly types."

"Fair enough." Five replied

Five didn't mind walking the rest of the way, he had already wanted to get out of the cab 20 minutes ago. Pulling out some cash, Five handed over the owed amount for the ride to the driver before opening the door and leaving the car. He watched from the sidewalk as the cab driver quickly turned around a drove off leaving him alone on the street. From down the block, he could hear the sound of revving engines and rowdy shouts. Well, at least he knew for sure he was heading in the right direction. With his hands in his pockets, Five walked away from where he was dropped off and towards his true destination. As he approached the bar, he walked through a crowd of bikers and their motorcycles outside.

"What you doing here, baby?" One woman asked

"You lost?" Another man called out

Five ignored their judgmental glares. He one, was tired and didn't care, and two, had far more important things to worry about than some drunk bikers. Stepping up to the door he passed the painted Mothers of Agony sign in the doorway and entered into the building itself. Walking up a set of stairs he was met with the sight of a stereotypical biker bar. The interior looked like that of a warehouse that just had a bar, chairs, and stripper pole plopped into it. The floors were concrete and covered in dirt and the walls were littered with posters of motorcycles and neon signs. The dim lights and cigarette smoke created a warm haze in the room that was only broken by the spotlight on the pole dancer in the middle. This whole place smelled like a mix of beer and piss and the glares from the patrons did nothing to improve the environment. Those glares however were not intimidating to Five like they probably hoped. He could kill them before they even realized they were dead. At this point, they were just getting in his way. At the far back of the room Five could see a door that said members only, and if anyone was going to help him understand what was going on it wouldn't be one of the brainless drones out here. Making his way through the leather-wrapped crowd, he pushed open the members-only door and headed toward the figure in the center of the room.

"I've been looking for you." Five called out

As the figure turned around though Five's confident demeanor shifted as slight confusion took over. The figure standing before him was Pogo. What was he doing here? Five never got the chance to see if he was around the academy because he and his siblings got their asses handed to them and then thrown out before they could really explore, but he had assumed that Pogo was still there somewhere. This didn't seem like the type of place he would be unless something had happened. He could only wonder what that was though.

"I don't tattoo children." Pogo replied

That wasn't quite true. He did for a certain price and if they had a decent level of respect for the process, but whoever this was Pogo had neither the time nor patience for them. They looked of age to tattoo, but who did they think they were barging in like they owned the place? And what kind of young adult nowadays chose to wear a suit, and especially to to a biker club? Whatever the case was, Pogo didn't want to deal with him.

"Swell, I'm not here for the ink." Five retorted "I'm here because you and I have a mutual friend. Sir Reginald Hargreeves." 

Pogo let out a sigh as he turned back around to continue working on the person he was tattooing. He had no care for Sir Reginald Hargreeves and whatever mess that followed him around. He had spent too long caring about that man and he wasn't going to start again now.

"Whatever he wants, I'm not interested." Pogo dismissed

"I don't think you understand. I'm one of his children." Five explained seriously "From another timeline."

Although Five couldn't see it, Pogo's eyes went wide. Another timeline? No. There was no way that this was possible. Regaining his composure, Pogo looked back at Five and chuckled snarkily,

"Another timeline?"

"As crazy as it sounds, you and I have met before. Back in 1963, when you were a diaper-wearing chimp in dire need of a manicure." Five reiterated as he pulled down the collar of his shirt "I don't know if you remember, but I have a scar to prove it."

Pogo looked at the young man before him. If what he was saying was true then wouldn't he be of an advanced age by now? All this gibberish was probably just some twisted scheme to get him back to the academy. But the academy was no longer his home, this is where he belonged now. Giving a slight nod to his friends in the room they began to inch closer to the young man before him. As his friends surrounded the boy on all sides, Pogo looked directly at him.

"If what you're saying is true, I'd be talking to a man well into his sixties." Pogo retorted "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've had a very long day."

Grabbing his things, Pogo turned and walked away. This boy and whatever his deal was weren't his problem. As Pogo walked away though, Five stepped forward calling out,

"Pogo, you need to listen to me."

But before he could get to Pogo, the other men in the room stepped close and surrounded him, stopping him in his path.

"Time to go home to Mommy, lil guy." One of the bikers remarked

Was that supposed to scare him or something? It's not like they could do anything to him. They were just a bunch of drunk bikers, but he was Five Hargreeves. Former superhero, former assassin, time traveler, your boyfriend, Five Hargreeves. Looking back at the guy who spoke to him Five mocked,

"Or what?"

Before any of them could say anything though he had already blinked out of the room and outside to follow Pogo. As he looked around the lot of motorcycles he saw Pogo's figure quickly riding away on one.

"Shit." Five said aloud

Looking around he saw another biker, his motorcycle turned on and ready to ride off. Quickly approaching him, Five shouted,

"Hey, I need your bike. It's an emergency."

However, the man on the motorcycle gave Five a snarky look as he retorted,

"Think you have me confused with someone who gives a shit."

"Give me the bike or else." Five shouted back

But the man did not listen and instead began to ride off down the road. Stand where he was left, Five looked at the biker who had ridden off and quietly said,

"Okay."

This wasn't what he wanted to do, but he needed a ride immediately if he was going to keep up with Pogo. With a running start, Five blinked onto the back of the motorcycle of the guy who had driven away. Placing his hands on the guy's shoulders, Five forced him off the bike before taking control of it himself. Steadying himself he looked around for Pogo and once he had spotted him up ahead he floored it so that he could keep up. As he followed behind Five knew one thing, this was going to be a long, stressful night.

As for you, the night felt quite calm compared to where your day started. The pain and grief of losing all your friends hadn't vanished. In reality, it still hurt a lot, but at least for now, you were distracted. There were only so many days until the world ended and perhaps if you could distract yourself until then, maybe you could at least co-exist with your pain. After you and Ben finished eating, he paid for your meals as you made your way back to the Academy. You and Ben walked down the sidewalk idly chatting with each other, your voices being the only prominent sound in an oddly quiet part of the city. As you ambled back, you playfully bumped into him as you attempted to push him into the empty road. Seeing what you had done, Ben smirked before bumping back into you a little harder toward the building you walked next to. Back and forth you went bumping each other, first just using your bodies but then incorporating your powers for some extra strength. With one tentacle Ben shoved you toward the nearest building and laughed as you phased through the wall to avoid crashing into it. Popping back out of the wall, you looked at him as he continued to laugh and with a flick of your wrist, you sent him stumbling off the sidewalk and into the road. As you watched him struggle to stay on his feet you began to laugh back at him.

But then, you felt the energy of the world changing. It was no longer peaceful and calm, something was growing and quickly. Your gut dropped and your laughter stopped as you looked off toward the Academy just two blocks away. You knew what this feeling was and you knew how this ended. You froze, adrenaline coursing through your system, but fear keeping you paralyzed. Each energy wave was worse than the last. The pain was immense and the injuries you sustained increased each time. Oh god, what if this one took you? You told Five you would come back to him. You couldn't leave him like this. You loved him. All you had wanted was a little time. Why was there never enough time? You wanted to run away or hide or do anything you could to protect yourself but the terror of the unknown immobilized you. All it seemed like you could do was wait for the black hole to burst.

As Ben regained his balance, he noticed that you had stopped laughing. Looking over at you he saw you frozen in place your eyes trained forward down the street. Looking off in the distance he tried to see what it was that caused you to freeze, but there was nothing there. Something wasn't right. He could feel it. Quickly, he rushed over to you and saw the terror in your eyes. He could feel his heart start to beat faster and he asked,

"(Y/N), are you okay?"

Hearing Ben's voice, your eyes finally peeled away from the road ahead to him. As you looked at him you saw the sincerity in his eyes and you heard the genuine concern in his voice. And even through your panic you saw him. You saw Ben. The one who sought you out. The one who paid attention to you. The Ben who cared for you. He may not have been the same Ben, but he was still your Ben. He was your friend. He was the family the rest of Hargreeves couldn't be. If this was going to happen, at least you knew you'd have someone who cared by your side.

"Whatever happens, promise you won't leave me." You quickly stated, a begging-like tone to your voice

Leave you? He wasn't going to leave you. You were different and fun and he liked talking to you. He didn't feel pressured to be anything with you. You were kind, but you called him out in a way that no one else could. He liked having you around. Leaving you would be the last thing he'd want to do.

"I- I don't understand," Ben replied confused

You were running out of time. The wave was coming and it felt powerful. You didn't know if you'd make it through this one and you didn't want to be alone. You were terrified of being alone. You needed a friend. You needed Ben to promise you to stay. Stay like he always had. Grabbing at his shirt, you looked at him desperately as you shouted,

"Promise me, Ben!"

Ben.

He was Ben.

You called him Ben.

He looked at you, and although your face was frightened your eyes were earnest and sincere. He was Ben. He was your Ben. You wanted him to stay with you and he was going to do just that. He was never going to leave and nothing in this world was going to keep him from you.

"I promise." He replied softly

You gave him a weak smile, but it didn't last long as the energy you felt build up finally burst. Your head whipped back as you saw the giant wave of energy rushing toward you. Your only hope was that the pain would be over quickly. Closer and closer it came, causing you to feel sick even before it hit, and then just like that, it tore through your system. You felt an unbearable ripping sensation spread through your body, like blades cutting you from the inside and out. As you felt your body giving out from under you, you thought of Five one more time before everything went black.

It was as if the world moved in slow motion as Ben watched you go from standing with him holding onto his shirt to letting go and falling to the ground. He tried to reach out to catch you but he wasn't quick enough. Immediately, he dropped to his knees on the ground next to you and gently shook your shoulders as he called out,

"(Y/N)?"

But you didn't respond. You didn't even move. His heart began to race as he looked over you. All your wounds that were practically healed were now reopened and spilling out blood, and on top of it, there were new, worse wounds as well. You looked pale and when he reached out to check your pulse, he found one but it certainly wasn't strong. Oh god. No. NO! He couldn't lose you. He had just started getting to know you. Just started getting to be around you. You had only moments ago called him by his name. He promised he would stay with you, but he couldn't just let you go. He had to save you. Quickly, he scooped you up in his arms and ran down the blocks toward the Academy. There you could get the treatment you needed. As he made it to the Academy he practically kicked down the door to get in and as he stood in the foyer, with urgency in his tone, he shouted,

"HELP! HELP!"

Quickly, Luther and Sloane ran from the parlor into the foyer where Ben stood. The two of them looked at him and saw the urgency in his eyes before noticing what was making him so panicked. There in his arms was you, limp, pale, and bloodied. It was an awful sight to see you in such a condition.

"Oh my god!" Sloane exclaimed, "What happened?!"

"I don't know!" Ben replied, pained unease in his tone

Luther knew what had happened though. It had to have been the same thing that happened earlier today. Nothing else could tear you apart like a strong molecular disturbance and the Kugelblitz was the only thing capable of doing so as of late.

"It must've been another kugelwave." Luther explained "Because of her powers it tears her apart. I saw it happen earlier today."

Ben looked at Luther before looking back at you. That's right, you had mentioned when he found you in the warehouse that the black hole was tearing you apart, and down in the basement you had made the comment of being in immense pain when the black hole explodes. He felt stupid for not realizing what had happened and even stupider for letting one of the people who caused the blackhole point out what was wrong. But as stupid as he felt that didn't matter right now, what mattered was getting you the help you needed. Ben scowled at Luther before turning his attention to Sloane.

"I'm bringing her up to the med bay." Ben stated before commanding "Go find Grace."

But Sloane didn't move. She couldn't as she stared at your unconscious form. You might not have been dead, but you certainly looked it and it hurt her to see you in such a way. No one had been as nice to her in her entire life as you had been in the few moments you were with her. She didn't know if she could call her siblings friends, a lot of times it felt like they were just coworkers, but you were the first person she felt was actually her friend. She couldn't help, but gently reach a hand out toward you, but Ben took a step back and held you closer to him. Looking up at her brother she could see a mix of anger and fear on his face. She had never seen him look like this before.

"SLOANE, GO FIND GRACE!" Ben shouted "NOW!"

"Uh- right- okay!" Sloane stuttered before running off with Luther in tow

With Sloane and Luther attempting to find Grace, Ben rushed up the stairs of the Academy and toward the med bay next to the kitchen. Gently, he placed you down on the bed in there as he waited for Sloane to arrive. What was only a few moments felt like forever as Sloane finally appeared with Grace. Giving a curt nod to Sloane, he turned to look at Grace, her cultish look and missing eye weren't an appealing sight for someone he was hoping to take care of you, but she was the best resource to help. It's not like he could take you to the hospital. At this point there probably wasn't enough staff and surely they would ask questions he wouldn't be able to answer.

"You need to help her. Immediately." Ben commanded

"Of course." Grace replied, her tone cheery but flat "Please leave the room so I can have space to work."

No. He wasn't going to leave. You had asked him to stay with you and he was going to do so no matter what.

"What? No. I want to stay here." Ben complained

"C'mon Ben, look at her, you need to let Grace work or she's going to get worse." Sloane mentioned before offering "If you want we can keep the door open."

He didn't want to leave the room, but Sloane was right. You were looking worse by the second, and you needed help now. At least if the door was open, he could watch Grace to make sure she did her job and nothing else. No matter how much he hated it, it was the best option for now and so he relented,

"Fine."

He gestured for Sloane and Luther to leave the room and once they did so he followed them out making sure to leave the door wide open. While Luther took a seat at the kitchen table, and Sloane started making a pot of coffee, Ben went back and forth between pacing the kitchen and standing in the doorframe of the med bay to watch Grace work. Five minutes became ten, and ten became thirty, and with each passing minute Ben worried more about if you were okay. Surely if it was nothing serious Grace would've been done by now, right? He could see her taking care of you, cleaning your wounds, stitching up gashes, giving you IV fluids, but why was it taking so long? He paced around faster, his head turning to look into the doorway every time he passed by.

As he aggressively paced, Luther and Sloane sat together at the kitchen table just watching Ben. Sloane had never seen him act this way before. She recalled times when he was more vulnerable as children, but his exterior grew harder as he got older, especially after the incident when he was 17. It had been a very long time since she had seen him so concerned about someone other than himself. Perhaps you had found a way to get through to him like no one else could. You certainly were the nicest person the Sparrows had encountered, besides her sweetie pie of a boyfriend of course.

Luther however wasn't as surprised at Ben's reaction. You and Ben had always been close. The relationship between you two wasn't the same as between you and Five of course, but if there was anyone in the family you trusted as much as Five, it was Ben. When Five was busy doing solo training with Reginald, it was always Ben who sought you out. When Ben, unfortunately, fell to the wayside of their father's favor because he didn't like using his powers, you always noticed and stuck up for him. Whenever you spoke, Ben was always intently listening to every word you said. When others didn't have the time to spare to be with him and his literature discussions you always showed up for him. It didn't matter what timeline or what Ben it was, that care, connection, and concern were still there.

The three of them were quiet as they waited for Grace to finish with you, the only sounds being Ben's pacing and the sipping of coffee. But after what felt like forever, Grace finally stepped out of the med bay and into the kitchen. Some blood covered her clothing and her face was relatively expressionless as she looked at the group.

"Is she going to be okay?" Ben immediately questioned

"She is unconscious, but she is stable." Grace explained, "She needs rest but given her current vitals her chances of waking up in the next 12 hours are extremely likely."

The three Hargreeves all sighed a breath of relief as they heard that you'd be okay, but once Grace was out of the way Ben went quickly back into the room and stood by your side. Your wounds were closed and bandaged, there was more color in your face, and minus the stains on your clothing, all the blood you bled was cleaned up. You were injured, but you were okay. Without leaving your side Ben used one of his tentacles to grab a chair from the kitchen table. Bringing it back into the room he placed it behind him before quietly sitting down next to your bedside. Gently, he took one of your hands in his, holding it just as gently as you held his before. He kept his eyes on you, but in his peripheral, he could see as Sloane and Luther entered the room.

"I'm going to stay with her until she wakes up." Ben stated

"Grace said she's going to be okay." Sloane replied, "You don't have to stay."

Yes he did. He did have to stay. He promised you he would and he wasn't going to break that promise. You were terrified when you had passed out. You needed someone to be there for you when you woke to tell you that you were safe.

"I'm not leaving her." Ben stated

"Ben, it's late. I think you should get some rest." Sloane explained

"I said I'm not leaving!" He snapped

Sloane and Luther looked at each other shocked at his outburst, but since it seemed like there was no convincing him to go, it was best just to let him stay.

"Okay..." Sloane quietly said, "Well, Luther and I are heading to bed."

"Then go." Ben remarked, waving them off

Taking Sloane's hand, Luther began to walk the two of them out of the room to leave Ben be, but as they began to head out Sloane whispered,

"What's gotten into him? I've never seen him like this before."

"I don't know, but it's not for us to figure out." Luther whispered back

Ben's eyes darted over to the doorway as he watched the two of them leave. They may have thought they were quiet enough, but Ben heard them. And while Luther and Sloane may not have known what had gotten into Ben, he sure did. All throughout the day it became more and more obvious to him why he was acting the way he was and there was no amount of forced obliviousness or emotional redirection that could deny what he knew now.

He loved you.

He was truly, madly, deeply, undeniably in love with you. It wasn't until he experienced the very real possibility of losing you that it all finally clicked. Ever since he met you, you had consumed his thoughts. When you walked in the room he couldn't think straight and when you looked at him you made his stomach do flips. When you spoke he was completely enthralled and when you touched him, he felt electrified. You were smart and talented and caring and gentle and beautiful. For the first time in a very long time, when he was with you, he didn't feel like Number Two, or Number One, he just felt like Ben. You made him feel this way, and he never wanted to let this feeling go. He looked at you softly, a smile coming to his face as he quietly said,

"I'm not leaving you."

Carefully, he brought your hand, which he held closer to him, and placed a gentle kiss on top of it.

"I promise."

[thatonebirdwrites]

L-Corp and chilled scotch

The scotch pours into her cup, the chill saturates through the glass, and the temptation to just throw the glass and drink directly from the bottle taunts her yet again. She resists.

Unlike her ability to resist Kara.

Kara Danvers or rather Supergirl, the hero that is the beloved of National City.

And a habitual liar.

She throws back the scotch, the cool temperature a balm across the burn of the alcohol. Hope sits on her desk, a swirling cubical sculpture, that offers up yet another simulation for Lena to attempt.

Or would have.

The doors swing open with a bang, and Samantha Arias stands there, an expression of fury on her usually smug or gentle expressions.

"Lena Kieran Luthor," she snaps. "I am sick of you dodging my phone calls."

"Oh?" She pours herself another drink and wishes she'd told Jess to not allow anyone into her office. She'd forgotten Sam had full access to her still.

"Normally I'd just roll with it." Sam slams the doors shut, marches over and plucks the glass right out of Lena's hands. "But to ghost Ruby? Your goddaughter?"

So that's the source of Sam's fury. Lena crosses her arms over her chest.

"Now that I won't allow. Ruby adores you, Lena, and you do not get to ice her out like this."

"It's better for her," Lena starts to say, but Sam does the unthinkable. She dumps the scotch into the garbage. "Hey! That's damn good scotch you're wasting!"

"I don't want to have this talk if you're drunk." Sam sighs and presses flips her hair over her shoulder. "I think it's time Ruby and I returned to National CIty, Lena."

"No, you're will not." Lena scowls. "You have Metropolis."

"And what good is that if my best friend is currently ghosting her goddaughter, drinking her life away, and apparently mismanaging L-Corp's funds?" Sam stabs her finger at Lena's chest. "Don't think I haven't noticed that either. What the hell has you this worked up? Is it Kara?"

Lena attempts to school her face in time but the shock of Sam's very accurate guess slips out for a brief second. Long enough for Sam to catch it.

"It is Kara." The fury that Sam rode in with switches to concern. "Lena, whatever happened? You don't have to face it alone. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

"You don't know what I've done, Sam," Lena says flatly. She doesn't want Sam's pity. "Would you want a murderer interacting with Ruby?"

Sam flips her hair over her shoulder again and does a rather dashing pose that reminds Lena far too much of Reign. "Guess whose body murdered dozens and destabilized Earth's climate? Yup, that's me!"

"It wasn't really you," Lena protests.

"Does it matter?" Sam gestures to the sofa, and when Lena doesn't move, she, far more gently than Lena deserves, pushes her down and settles next to her. "Reign, in my body, tried to kill Ruby. There are times Ruby looks at me, and I see fear in her eyes. That's not something we can just erase from her memory, Lena. My hands are coated in blood regardless of who did it. I must live with that, so whatever you've done? It can't be worse than that."

"I killed my brother, Sam," Lena blurts out, and is appalled at herself. She's never said it out loud like this before. Not since she shot Lex, saw his proof of Kara Danvers = Supergirl, and then lit the whole bunker on fire, sealing it forever in concrete and metal with the DNA lock. "Took my pistol, and shot him right in the chest. My own brother. And I did it thinking I was saving Kara, saving the world. But I was a fool." She looks away and reaches for the scotch.

Sam puts it out of her reach and grasps her hands instead. "You're not a fool," she says, softly. "You did what you thought was right."

"Right," Lena sneers. "What even is rightness? Do you know what it feels like to hold the pistol in your hands, Sam? To feel its heft? To smell the gunpowder, hear the bang, the gush of blood? What of that metallic smell? The acidic smoke of a body burning?"

Sam continues to hold her hands, her thumb rubbing back and forth, but she says nothing. Only tilts her head, listening.

It infuriates Lena, but she doesn't want Sam to let go. She feels unmoored, her entire body vibrating with a vicious energy, where she wants those that hurt her to bleed. But Kara can't bleed. She stronger than goddamn steel. No, she can only rip Kara apart, so that Kara has nothing. Just like Kara's damn secret did to Lena's heart.

"As he coughs up blood," she uses the most descriptive language she can in hopes it'll convince Sam to give up on her, "he dragged himself to his computer, turned on the TVs, and showed me exactly who Kara Danvers is. Lex with his dying breaths, his blood filled lungs, said I've been a goddamn fool. Unable to see what was right in front of my eyes." The tears sting her eyes, and that makes her even more angry.

Still Sam doesn't say anything.

"Say something, Sam!" Lena snaps. "Tell me that I'm a monster! A murderer. A villain! It's apparently what Kara thinks. She lied to me again and again, and this whole time she was Supergirl. Probably keeping me, the Luthor, close to make sure I stay in line. So let's be honest, let's lay it all out, don't we? I'm a villain. My family are villains, that's all I'll ever be."

Sam sighs. "No, Lena. No you were never the villain. You've always been the hero. I wouldn't be here if not for you. Ruby wouldn't be here. None of us would. You've saved so many a thousand times over." Her words rain onto Lena's desiccated heart, and the tears threaten to overflow. "And no you are not like your family. I don't know what Kara's deal is. Why she kept that truth from you, but I do know you. And you can't and won't ever be a villain."

"I killed my own brother, Sam," Lena argues.

"Yes, you told me. That doesn't make you a villain." Sam leans closer, her brown eyes intense. "I know that can change a person. Taking a life like that? It's not easy to bear. It sucks, I know."

"You don't even remember what Reign did," Lena says, irritated.

"I do actually. Not all of it, but..." The haunted look in Sam's eye floods Lena with guilt and a hint of disbelief. "When you were working to find the cure in your lab, before Supergirl barged in on us, I -- I started to recall bits and pieces. Then you somehow got both of us in that other dimension. Reign tried very hard to convince me to let go and embrace her. She pushed the memories on me. The crunch of bones in my hands, the nauseating metallic scent, the lifeless eyes still wide with fear. That -- that doesn't leave me."

"Oh." Lena's anger slowly fades into a confusing mire of bitterness and worry. "You didn't mention it."

"How could I?" Sam blinked away her own tears and gave Lena a pained smile. "I was panicking. I remember how you held me. How you reassured me that you would find a cure. You gave me hope that I wouldn't be just an alien weapon. So no, Lena, no matter what you've done, you can't be a villain. You saved me and the world, and I'm not going to let you forget it."

Lena looks down at their hands. She still hasn't pulled away from Sam's gentle touch. "Even if I'm plotting revenge? To make Kara hurt like she hurt me?"

"Even then."

"Revenge is for villains," Lena protests. Sam gives her a look that spells out how she definitely doesn't agree. Frustrated, Lena pushes forward. "Look, I've even dragged Andrea into my plot--"

"The one who viciously betrayed you?" Sam's eyebrows rose.

"The one and same. Gave her Catco." Lena couldn't hide her bitterness from her voice. "I bought it for Kara anyway. Might as well give it to someone who isn't qualified to lead it. Let it tank. Let Kara feel the pain of it. Then I'll unveil her true identity at her damn award ceremony, so the whole world can see her lies."

"Okay." Sam wraps an arm around Lena's shoulders. "So when is this ceremony?"

Lena blinks at Sam, surprised. "You're not going to talk me out of this?"

"I know you, Lena. And I know your heart. When the moment comes, you'll do the right thing. You always do." Sam smiles and the warmth of her arm melts some of the chill that had coated Lena's heart since her brother's death.

"So you're helping me." Lena isn't quite sure what to make of this development.

"I said I got your back, and I meant it."

That fractures Lena just enough that the tears escape. Sam draws her into a hug, and for the first time in weeks since her brother's death, Lena weeps.

***

The Pulitzer ceremony happens in the Art Museum downtown, their theatrical stage converted into a cocktail party. The dishes mostly variations of either French cuisine or potstickers. Thanks to Sam's assistance, Lena wove herself into the planning committee and convinced them to let her give the speech and the award to Kara herself.

Far too easy. At least for the planning portion. Andrea showed up several times to try to convince Lena to give away the surprise sooner, but Lena's firm handling of Andrea shut that down. She'd sent Andrea to Sam for an exclusive interview.

Sam, who would soon become the next CEO of the entirety of L-corp, while Lena stepped down into a pure research consultation position.

That had been Sam's idea, mostly to fix the hemorrhaging of funds issue, so Lena didn't end up investigated by the FBI. Last thing she needed right now, so instead, she'll use her private wealth and L-Corps science grants to fund her projects.

Today, she stands on the balcony, her fingers tapping through the evidence she'd found on the last of Lex's servers. The rest of his servers she'd hacked and deleted until all that was left was what she had stored in this particular tablet.

The rest of her plan involved a carefully written speech about honesty and truth, so when the news breaks, the juxaposition of her words against the truth of Kara's lies will surely destroy her like Kara's lie had destroyed Lena.

She'd practiced her speech in front of Sam and Ruby, though Ruby still had no idea why Lena was so bitter toward Kara. Sam didn't convince her to alter any parts of it, though she did ask one question that haunted Lena still:

"Is this your truth or a half-lie for Kara's sake?"

Lena had scoffed and said the latter, but Sam tilted her head as if not believing her. All her years of Luthor upbringing could not fool Sam, who somehow pierced through to her real feelings with just one look.

Now she overlooks the guests who mill about the extravagantly decorated room. The scent of savory food wafts up from below, the wine already heavy in her stomach. Kara keeps looking up at her from where she speaks with Alex and Kelly, and Lena does her best to ignore each glance.

Every time Kara looks away, Lena looks down at her and wonders. Was anything Kara shared real? Was it all an act? Those questions haunt her as much as Sam's, and she turns and walks into the backstage area.

To her dismay, Kara finds her there. Of all places for Kara to show up. Lena schools her features into delight for Kara as she speaks of how she plans to give the award speech.

Except Kara does the exact thing Lena assumed she'd never do.

She takes off her glasses. "I'm Supergirl!" Words tumble from Kara's mouth in an avalanche. "And I'm so, so sorry. I should have told you ages ago, but I loved being just Kara with you. And I was afraid to lose you, and I can't lose you. So I thought I could be just Kara with you, and I convinced myself I wouldn't lose you then.... but I've been a fool. So selfish. I've been lying to myself too. I thought I was protecting you, but I've been hurting you, haven't I? And I can't bear that. Gosh, Lena, I'm so sorry." Her tears smudging her makeup, and the repeated apology sear into Lena.

For once in her life, Lena has no idea what to say or think. Is this also an act?

"Please, Lena, say something," Kara begs.

And yet, Lena can't.

Kara apologized. Kara finally told her the truth.

What can she do with this? Surely it's not real. Just another ploy. Kara must know Lena knows. She must have slipped up somewhere, given away a clue.

And yet, the earnest grief in Kara's expression, the way she says "I just wanted to be Kara with you. Just Kara. I'm so sorry. I was wrong to lie to you all this time."

The way she begs Lena to speak, it all collides with Lena, and she feels breathless, on the verge of tears.

What does Kara even mean? To admit the wrongdoing? To admit she was being selfish?

Lex would never do such a thing. Lillian would scoff at the idea that she could be wrong.

So what does it mean for Kara to admit she was wrong? To admit she lied? To admit she had hung with Lena to play the role of human? The apology, the tears, the desperate longing in Kara's voice is unlike any apology Lena has ever heard.

She can't process it.

The host catches Lena's eye and taps his wrist. "It's almost time."

Lena takes the opportunity and steps around Kara. Her feet move for her, and she follows the host to the back of the stage, hidden by the red curtains. She hurriedly wipes the tears from her eyes, and touches up her make-up.

The truth in the tablet weighs heavy in her hands. She steps onto stage at her cue and places the tablet on the podium. The send button glares up at her, and her fingers hover over it.

The crowd lines up in rows in front of the stage. Kara stands next to Alex and Nia. Kelly, Brainy, and J'onn stand off to one side, and in the corner of the crowd, leaning against a pillar, Sam stands.

Kara's eyes are still red from her tears, her make-up fixed.

The speech rolls off Lena's tongue like sour candy. She's practiced it enough that the emotive moments come out as planned.

It's Sam's expression that cuts Lena far more than the rising hope in Kara's. Sam's expression burns with an intensity, as if she sees into Lena's soul, knows exactly her indecision.

Lena's finger hovers. One tap and the whole world will know the truth.

And yet her finger refuses to touch the screen.

Kelly glances between her and Kara, her brow furrowed. Does she know?

Alex knows definitely.

Does Brainy? He stands rigid slightly behind Nia, where the young reporter smiles up at Lena. Did they know?

J'onn has his arms crossed, and surely he knew.

Was any of her 'friends' real?

Beyond them, the crowd shifts and edges closer. Dozens of faces upturned to hear her speech, to hear her speak of the virtues of Kara, to listen to her extol on honesty and truth, and to lay that at Kara's feet.

As if Kara was truthful and honest. As if she truly deserved this award.

And yet, her heart betrays her. She drops her hand next to the tablet. Pauses to take a breath. This is it. She needs to do it now, but her hand doesn't hit send. Instead, she exits the program, picks up the award from its case, and steps out from behind the podium.

"And so I present to Kara, the Pulitzer Prize, for her truthful reporting of my brother's deadly actions, and for unveiling the reality of bigotry against alien communities." She stresses 'alien' and looks at Kara.

Kara, the one person who somehow broke through all her defenses, her stole away her heart faster than anyone prior. Even with Jack, the love had been a slow build, but with Kara? Lena had fallen for her in that first meeting in her office.

How could she not? Kara's warmth, how she'd admitted to understanding Lena's situation, an understanding Lena thought she'd never have beyond Jack and Sam.

Memories of their times together deluges Lena, and tears escape. She wants it all to be real so badly.

Kara steps forward, hope in her expression, and that tears Lena's heart even more.

With shaking hands she gives the award to Kara. In front of everyone, in front of the cameras, in front of the world watching this very moment, Kara grasps her arms instead.

"Lena," she says, her voice trembling, "Lena, thank you. I -- I couldn't do this without you. I can't do this without you."

The words leap from her lips, unplanned, unscripted. Her heart betraying her yet again. "You will always have me as a friend."

Kara sweeps her into a hug, presses a kiss to Lena's forehead, and she can't help but sink into the warmth.

She wants this to be real.

Oh god, she needs this to be real.

But the pain of the lie overshadows her, and she struggles against tears. Struggles to hold back her grief, her agony.

Her shattered heart cuts her to pieces, her body a betrayal, and yet she doesn't want to let go. Doesn't care who sees her. She wants this to be real.

She needs this to be real. She needs Kara.

And yet, Kara destroyed her. Destroyed her more than the gunshot to Lex's chest.

She pulls back, her body trembling, and she presses a kiss to Kara's cheek. Kara's sharp intake of breath slices deep, coils in Lena's belly. How can she resist Kara?

Why can't this be real?

The universe takes pity on her. An alien bursts into the room through a bubbling silver-blue portal. Energy arcs toward them, and Kara shifts them so it hits her back. They tumble in a heap to the ground, the wind knocked out of Lena's lungs. Her tablet goes skidding into the curtains. She gasps as pain briefly shoots up her back.

Kara sweeps Lena to her feet, and pushes her into the curtains. They stumble out of sight.

Kara rips off her glasses. Nanites ripples over clothes, and the supersuit -- pants edition -- blooms over her body. "I got this. Please, get to safety, Lena."

Alex and J'onn calmly give orders, while Kara -- as Supergirl -- bursts out from the curtains to tackle the other alien.

Lena snags her tablet and stumbles through the backstage, dazed. Her head spins from where she'd hit the floorboards. Her path takes her away from the clamor of fighting, and she tumbles into a side gallery. There a growing crowd, guided by Alex and several security guards, stream toward an exit sign.

Kelly reaches her side before Sam. "Are you all right?" Kelly looks her over with the practiced eye of a medic.

Lena nods, but when Sam wraps an arm around her as if sensing her unsteadiness. She lets herself lean against Sam. Lets her and Kelly guide her to safety. Behind her, the crashes shake the floor under them. The walls crack.

Alex orders the guards to continue evacuating, pauses only to kiss Kelly's cheek, and rushes into the other room.

This isn't real.

Whatever she has with Kara, it can't be real.

Kelly turns to her, and her question cuts through Lena's shock. "Where's Kara?"

Lena stares at Kelly.

"Wasn't she with you?" Kelly scans the crowd, worried.

Kelly doesn't know. The truth takes the breath from Lena's lungs. Kelly doesn't know.

Lena isn't the last after all.

Sam puts a hand on Kelly's shoulder. "I'm sure Alex reached her."

Kelly shook her head. "How? She was guiding the others out."

Lena watches herself say, "Kara is safe. She ducked backstage." A lie that protects Kara and only leaves Kelly further in the dark.

"I'll send security her way then. She needs to get out safely." Kelly turns and snags a guard.

Lena watches Kelly say, "Can you look for Kara Danvers? Last seen backstage." Watches and says nothing.

Sam's hand grips her shoulder. "You kept her secret," she whispered.

Sam doesn't know what Lena did with the tablet. Lena looks down at the tablet still in her hand. She could still do it. Andrea waits for her transfer at Catco.

Instead, she slams the tablet against the wall. It cracks the screen. Again and again she shatters it. The pieces tumble to the ground, only stopping when Sam grasps her hand and pulls the wrecked tablet from her grip.

Numerous people have turned to stare at her, but a guard breaks the sudden stillness with a sharp command, "Move now!"

Another boom shakes the side room, and the panicked whispering, the urgent rush begins again.

Sam takes her arm and leads her to the exit.

Kelly follows, and they tumble out of the museum into daylight. The chorus of the city saturates Lena's senses, and the words from Sam and Kelly are drowned in the rumble of engines, calls of birds, panicked cries from the crowd, the yelling of fervent guards.

Lena sees only the look of hope in Kara's eyes. She closes her eyes, sways, and the moment overtakes her. She faints.

***

Sam and Kelly sit on the lip of the ambulance, while Lena endures the examination of a paramedic. She says nothing, doesn't explain her faint, only deals with the tests.

The IV fluids chill her veins, but she doesn't refuse like normal.

Why did she lie to Kelly? Why did she keep Kara's secret?

Andrea will be livid. She has nothing to give Andrea now. The only evidence lay on the destroyed tablet.

Why? She has no answer to her own question.

Someone speaks to her, but the words dance around her. It takes several long minutes before the words collapse into meaning in her brain.

"-- possible shock." The paramedic speaks.

"I know." Sam sounds tired and worried. "But she's very much against hospitals. I can take her to her private doctor for those tests."

"I'm a certified medic," Kelly adds. "I can handle it if she won't go in." She gently puts a hand on Lena's shoulder. "Unless you are all right with --"

"No." The word comes with great difficulty. "I do not need the hospital." She feels as if she watches someone else speak with her lips.

Sam takes control and tucks her into her car.

Kelly rides with them, and they head to Lena's private doctor. Despite her worry for Alex, Kelly stays with Lena. Speaks to her gently. Offers kind words of support. Briefly texts Alex, but Lena sees the text and it contains nothing about Lena's situation.

"Thank you." Lena shivers and wraps the blanket tighter around herself. It's white, the fabric scratchy, but its from the ambulance so she doesn't expect any better. "I --" Lena can't finish the sentence.

She feels caught in a loop.

Why couldn't she do it?

The plan had been flawless. Perfect.

And yet, here she was, keeping Kara's secret. She was now an accomplice, and this time it was Kelly she kept in the dark. Unless Kelly too was an actress. No, she can't let that continue, can she? Can she truly do this to another?

Wouldn't keeping the lie only hurt Kelly like it hurts Lena now? No, she can't do that to Kelly.

She waits until the blood tests are taken, until after her doctor looks her over and orders to take a few days of rest, until Kelly and Sam lead her into her penthouse.

As soon as the door shuts, she turns to Kelly and asks the fateful question. "Did you know Kara is Supergirl?"

Kelly blinks and stares at Lena. "What?"

"Did you know too? Did everyone now but me?" She wants to be angry. To draw forth the pain into a blade of fury, but her words come out broken.

She wanted Kara to bleed and yet she'd failed.

Kelly shakes her head. "Are we talking about Kara Danvers? Her?"

Sam sighs. "I'm making us tea. Rest means laying down, Lena." She points to the sofa.

Lena frowns but dutifully sits down.

Kelly stands in the entryway still. "Alex never said," she says, finally.

"Kara only told me today," Lena admits. For that is the truth. "Right before my speech."

"I see." Kelly meets Lena's gaze. "I had no idea. I'm sorry, Lena. Are you all right? To learn something that jarring about your girlfriend? I -- I know how painful that can be."

Girlfriend? Lena stares at Kelly. Girlfriend?

Kelly thinks Kara and her are dating?

Lena's thoughts screech to a halt. "No," she says and lays down. She rests her arm over her eyes, and shuts out everyone. Whatever Kelly or Sam say, she ignores. She refuses food, refuses everything, and curls up under the shitty blanket.

***

Two days huddled on the sofa, and Lena feels like a truck has driven over her back again and again. Her sofa is perhaps the worst thing in the universe for sleeping, but Lena hadn't felt like getting up.

Sam stayed. Ruby joins them, and between the two of them, they coax Lena into eating and drinking some juice.

Sadly, no scotch. Sam hid it.

At one point, Kara shows up, but Sam turns her away. Alex comes by next, and Sam turns her away too.

"Aunt Lena," Ruby sits next to her as they watch a documentary on the wall television. "Are you feeling sick still?"

Lena looks at the thirteen year old. Is that what Sam told Ruby? In a sense, she feels like death warmed over, even if it's not a physical illness. The anger that had fueled her plan had collapsed into a malaise so deep that Lena wishes she could just cease existing.

"Yes." It's the most she's spoken in two days.

"We can make your favorite soup again. I've gotten better at it. Mom's been teaching me." Ruby attempts a smile. "And I made you something. Maybe it'll help you feel better?" Ruby digs into her backpack, that sits at her feet, and pulls out a framed drawing.

Lena takes it and tears overwhelm her.

It's a drawing of Sam, Ruby, and herself in the L-Corp office. The colors are vibrant, the expressions emotive, and it's beautiful. The last time someone had given her art was Kara.

"What do you think?" Ruby's words hold uncertainty.

Lena grasps Ruby's hand. "It's beautiful," she says, softly. "Thank you." The pre-teen grins, and the pain, for a little while, recedes. She lets Ruby pull her up, plays along with finding a home for the drawing, and together they hand it above the mock fireplace. The same place where her photo her herself and Kara had sat.

She doesn't deserve this kindness.

That evening, Sam convinces her to finally go to bed. "Your back will thank you."

Lena gifts her a faint smile. "Fine."

"And I'll handle L-Corp. Don't worry about a thing, okay?" Sam shakes a finger at her. "You need to rest. Doctor's orders you know."

Normally she'd scoff and dismiss it. Normally, she'd buckle up and go in anyway. Normally, she'd push aside her emotions and work herself to the bone.

But the malaise has sunk its fingers deep. Lena only nods, and slips under the covers to hide once more. For the rest of that day, she reviews events. Reviews emotions. Reviews what she can recall.

What is real?

Can she ever trust Kara again?

She loves her still, and it hurts so much. Hurts more than even her brother's death.

She's stained, her heart fractured, and she doesn't know what to do next.

If only she could cut the pain out of herself, to stop the dishonesty so no one else will suffer.

For the first time in days, she leaves her room and takes out her laptop. She types up a tentative plan, works out a simulation, and sends it to Hope, her AI.

Sam finds her deep in coding at the dining table. It's late, the sun long set, and shadows etch across her walls. The television hums with a game as Ruby plays in the other room.

The soup Sam sets down smells delicious, but Lena only glances at it.

"What are you working on?" Sam pulls up a chair.

"What if I could code a way to end suffering?" Lena asks. Her fingers dance across the keys as she looks over Hope's simulation data. It didn't go as she hoped, so she's altering the algorithms. "To make it so no one lies, no one hurts another."

"A code to end suffering," Sam repeats. "Lena, are you suggesting mind control?"

"As if." Lena frowns and glances at Sam. "People can still do what they want. This would just prevent them from hurting anyone."

"That's still mind control."

Frustrated, Lena slaps her laptop shut. "Then what do suggest I should do to end suffering?"

"I think you're asking the wrong question," Sam says gently.

"Oh?" Lena crosses her arms and glares at Sam. "And what should I be asking?"

"I don't know." Sam stirs the soup and pushes it toward Lena. "You should eat. Ruby says you haven't touched any food today."

"I'm fine, Sam."

"Are you? It's okay to not be okay, Lena. You don't have to be strong for this. That's why we're here. You can lean on us. You can be honest with us. We're not going anywhere."

Sam's earnest words sear into her, and Lena looks away, unable to bear the sincerity, the kindness.

"I'm a murderer, Sam," Lena murmurs. "And I'm running simulations that you claim is mind control. I think we should be honest. I'm a villain after all."

"No, you're hurting, and you being, well, you, you're trying to science your way out of the pain. But that's not how it works." Sam gently pushes a lock of hair from Lena's face. "How about this. Let's brainstorm new projects. The more ridiculous the higher the score. I bet I can beat you." She smiles. "I'll even wager money on this."

Lena stares at Sam. "Wagering money that you can beat me on generating ideas? Sam, you'll lose. I'm the queen of ideas."

"Oh? Then prove it." Sam stands and snags several pads of paper. She shoves one at Lena with a violet pen. "Get generating, Lena. Because you're about to be out..." Sam pauses then grins, "... out a hundred dollars."

"Two hundred that I'll leave you in the dust," Lena snaps, unable to resist the competition. She's the one with the two degrees, while Sam only had an accounting degree. How dare Sam claim she can generate better ideas than Lena herself.

"Two hundred and fifty I'll beat you in volume."

Lena growls and furiously starts to write. For the next four hours, she and Sam pit their wits against each other. Papers get taped to the wall, doors, and windows. Ruby cheers them on and makes popcorn as Sam and her shout more and more unhinged ideas.

When Lena suggests nanite-made clothes that instantly clean when dirtied, Sam shoots back an idea of nanite cloth competitions for the most dazzling display of fashion prowess.

Lena tacks to the wall an idea to build a massive portal to send ships to Mars or the moon for colonies and lessen the stress of overpopulation on the ecological systems of Earth.

Sam ups her with portals to other solar systems and documentaries to showcase the work of the mechanics and scientists.

Lena throws the suggestion of science competitions amongst other planets, and the winner gets a grant to build whatever they desire.

Sam suggests competitions to build the biggest train in the solar system, one so big that it fits the moon inside.

Lena counters with an engine that could power such a massive train.

Sam slaps onto the wall her idea of a massive party on such a train, to bring the wonders of pop and rock music to the corners of the galaxy.

By this point, Lena is laughing and tempted to tape her Sam's mouth shut. They've reached an impasse, for each idea Lena generates, Sam twists it to something silly, and even Ruby struggles to decide who wins the round.

"Fine!" Lena throws the last of her pad into the air. "We're tied."

"Are we?" Sam turns to her daughter. "Ruby, as our judge, what is your assessment?"

Ruby spends several minutes tapping her lip as if deep in thought. "I declare...." She pauses for dramatic effect, "A tie. Both your list of ideas are fantastic, and I kind of hope you do some of them Aunt Lena."

Lena looks at the mess that is now her penthouse, how so many unhinged schematics adorn the walls, the lines of ideas that overlap each other, and it's so against her Luthor upbringing that she laughs. Laughs and laughs at the absurdity of her situation.

She decides to keep the ideas where they are.

To remind herself that even in moments of great pain, nuggets of joy can still be found.

Though she will not be building a massive space train big enough for moons, just for all the celebrity popstars to host concerts for other solar systems. No matter how much Ruby and Sam beg.

She has some pride, thank you very much.

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 12

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

Before to start. . . Please take your time to read 'cause it's quite lenghty. 📖

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner and thanks @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

The weekend with Joel unfortunately came to an end. The enchantment is over and everything is back exactly as it was. Or almost, Joel, the night before the two of you went back to your lives, gave you a small set of keys.

"If you want to come here and write, you can. With or without me. There's an important part of you here and it's right that, when you want to, you come. Feel free to do." he told you "If you want to run away and seek refuge, you can do it here."

You are in your room lying on your bed with the small wooden guitar he carved for you a long ago clutched in one hand and the keys to his house in the other. You clutch them tightly to your heart as if to feel Joel close to you. You miss him already.

This makes you realize one thing: there's no longer a place for Jack in your life or in your heart. You want to be with Joel. You want him to be a part of you, you want everyone to know that you don't care that he's older than you, but that you love him. Yes, you love him.

You can't do without him.

Your phone rings.

It's Jack.

"I haven't heard from you once." he says.

"Well, you too." you reply in an icy tone.

"Would you like to talk about what happened a few nights ago?" he asks you.

The truth is that you don't care. You don't want someone like him next to you, someone who makes you feel bad, who doesn't support you, who doesn't understand you. No, thank you.

"There's nothing to say," you reply in the same tone.

"So … are we okay?" he asks.

"No, maybe I wasn't clear. Jack. . . I'm sorry, but I don't want a person who doesn't support me, who doesn't understand what's important to me," you answer.

For a moment you feel like the phone line has gone dead, then he resumes "So, we don't want to see each other again?"

"No." you reply flatly "Bye Jack, have a nice life." you add and then cut off the call.

Your heart beats fast in your chest. You feel as if freed from a burden.

Maybe you were too hard on Jack, but you don’t want continue leading him on, it’s not fair. You don't love him. You never had.

Now you can be with Joel.

But how can you see him if he is no longer in town now?

Simple, you look for something that might convince your mother to let you leave for a few days. You look for an idea, anything to get away, but at the moment you can't think of anything.

You fall asleep looking for an idea.

Your life flows quietly, you go to work at the bar, when you come back you practice your chords, you very rarely go to church with your mother hoping to get some ideas on how you can reach Joel. The man who teaches these classes sees you and approaches you with a big smile. He's a great speaker, has great language property, and you are not surprised that your mother is fascinated by him, but you fear that he is yet another foothold your mother is looking for in the course of her life. The man, a fellow named Mark, will be a few years older than your mother, tells you that he's glad you are there with them, that you too therefore are seeking the salvation of your soul and that only through prayer can this happen.

You lower your head, you don't want to burst out laughing in his face, you don't believe in this, you never had and you won't start now. Everything you hear only increase this your total belief. You are not like your mother who believes whatever she is told. No.

"Boo," your mother says, "have you seen how interesting these classes are?"

Of course.

"Yes, you right. You know, I've been thinking about going deeper," you begin. Your mother's eyes sparkle, she thinks she convinced you and converted you to all this. Not at all.

"You could go for a prayer retreat with Mark and his group." she offers enthusiastically "If I could, I would go too, but I have to work."

You take advantage of it.

"Mom, actually I'd like to go with my friend Kristen and her prayer group, you know, she's also attending. Her group is in the small town near ours, I know they are leaving next week for a prayer retreat, maybe I can go with her so I would have her company."

Kristen is the friend your mother always liked the most, she always saw her as a proper young person, judicious, polite, charitable, in short a perfect friend and girl.

"Fine. But you'll have to let me know then what you think, though, and then next time you and I will go with Mark's group."

Now you just need to let Kristen know.

"We'll talk." you say with a small smile "Would you like a pizza? Shall we eat it at the diner?"

"All right." she replies, taking you under her arm.

The evening unfolds as quietly as possible, you don't talk much, you just make a few sporadic comments about the pizza, the place, the meeting you attended, but nothing more.

Fortunately Joel calls when you returned by now and your mother is in bed. You check to see if you can talk freely and realize that she is soundly asleep. Joel tells you about his day, but more than anything he asks if you have been to his house, he wants to know if you are writing, if you are doing everything to pursue your dream, but you tell him you are going tomorrow.

"I miss you," you tell him, "I wish you were here," you add.

"I can't move, honey." he tells you in a regretful tone "We may not see each other not earlier than three weeks, it's gonna be complicated days for me."

"For me too, Miller. I'll. . ." you stop, you were about to tell him I love you, but then you reconsider, you don't know if your feeling is mutual, and what if he replies he doesn't feel the same way for you? You don't think you can stand such a response from him.

"You, what?" he encourages you, you swallow, afraid, you close your eyes "Baby, are you there?"

"Yes." you answer "I'm very tired, sorry. . ."

"No, no, 's okay. Go to sleep, I wish you good night, baby. A kiss, I hope whatever you dream will come true sooner or later." he says before to hang up the phone.

You open your eyes, he's not here, but your imagination brought you into his arms to come violently.

You will surely dream about him, his dark eyes, his plushy lips smiling at you and kissing you softly, his messy hair falling on his forehead, his arms caging the sides of your face, you dream about him with one hand cupping your face and with the other moving a strand of your hair and smiling at you. You see him on top of you whispering sweet, reassuring words in that sweet, warm voice of his, your hands in his hair as you press yourself against him.

His hand along your bare chest, his large hand caressing your breasts, thumb and forefinger teasing first one nipple and then the other. Your breath breaks.

His bulge pushing against your inner thigh, your breaths getting shorter and shorter, you almost feel him stroking you with a finger first to taste your intimacy then slowly sinking inside you, inch by inch. You gasp.

It feels so good, the rhythm he's giving with his finger that breaks your breath, he then strokes you rhythmically with two fingers, filling you all the way, you swallow squeezing your eyes shut and clutching your sheets in a fist. You mumble his name, bite your lower lip. You feel the blood boil in your veins as he continues to pump in a relentless rhythm inside you, then your mouth opens wide in a dull moan, your lips trembling.

Being in his house without him causes you a strange grip, you feel like you are in a beautiful soulless place. You feel empty, you just look around as if you almost feel a presence around you. You feel ridiculous thinking about this. After all, it's not the first time you've come here, of course it's the first time you're alone here, but you've been with him so many times. There's nothing to be afraid of.

"You recognize this place?" you ask Joel, sending him a message with a photograph of you sitting on his couch.

You turn on the computer he gave you and write, write, write. The words come out spontaneously, effortlessly, when you lift your head from the computer you realize it is almost evening. You stretch, turn off the pc, drink a glass of water, go to the bathroom and then leave.

Joel hasn't answered you, that's not like him, who knows maybe he's just really busy, you tell yourself.

As you're on your way home, you contact Kristen, you absolutely must warn her of your idea: you explain your plan and she tells you that she also has to actually go to a prayer meeting and she has to go to the very town where Joel is working. You explain that you are going to pretend to join them, but that you are actually going to Joel, you want to see him.

You check your phone, but Joel has not answered or displayed yet. You decide to call him, but his phone just rings. That's weird. You text him, but nothing, he doesn't answer or call you. You think about many things, then you decide that since he doesn't answer you, you need to leave, you need to see him now more than ever.

Convincing your mother was as easy as a glass of water, she wanted to talk to Kristen of course who confirmed your prayer meetings, provided many details of arrival and departure, and you, to reassure your mother, promised to call her as soon as you arrived, in the afternoon and evening. You prepare your small luggage and, since your mother won't let you drive, you leave with Kristen. The only problem is that Joel doesn't know you are coming and you don't know where to look for him.

Someone says that doing surprises is never a good thing because you inevitably get surprises, you try to chase that thought away, you don't want to believe that you are the one getting the surprise. You check your phone, Joel hasn't been in touch or answered your texts for almost twenty-four hours, and on the one hand it agitates you, but on the other it leads you to think that maybe he's just really busy.

While you're thinking that you've been foolish in leaving like that without informing him of your arrival, you remember the name of the company he works at and so your field of inquiry narrows; you're not alone, luckily you're accompanied by Kristen and a friend of hers, a guy named Xavier, a tall, muscular, blue-eyed, black-haired handsome guy. You think he's there with you because he cares about your friend, but this is your own thought, you may be wrong.

The places you see are one shabbier than the next, fortunately Xavier is with the two of you. When you arrive at another construction site, you realize you're in the right place, you ask for Joel and at that moment you are approached by a chick all dirty with a chipped protective helmet, she says your name, you turn around "D' you know me?" you ask her puzzled.

"It's like I know you, Joel talks about you all the time. You're here for him, aren't you?" her expression tense, focused "Come with me." she tells you, turning her back to the three of you.

"Uhm, can you wait for me? I'll let you know right away," you tell them.

When you turn around, you see the woman waiting for you with her hands in her uniform pockets, then noticing that you are joining her, she continues. She urges you to be careful several times, climbing flights of semi-dangerous stairs, when you almost reach the top, your heart in your throat with fear, but the idea of seeing him urges you on.

"Don't be frightened, dunno how much he's told you," she says as if you know what she's talking about "It's less worse than it looks." she stops on the landing "He's over there, he fell pretty bad, but other than a few cuts and bruises, he's okay."

You furrow your brow, the woman talks about it almost as if she said he scraped his knee, as if it were obvious. Well, maybe it is, but not to you.

"Didn't he tell you, did he?" she asks noticing your worried expression "You stubborn fool." she says in a sigh "Come." she adds giving you a little pat on your arm.

You follow her worriedly to a semi-closed door, "Wait." she tells you, then enters.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, that's why he didn't write or call you, but when did this happen? Yesterday? Last night? This morning? It doesn't matter when, but how he is, you hope with all your heart that nothing serious happened to him and that it's just a few scratches like the ones you've also seen before.

The door opens, the woman's eyes are downcast as she comes out, then she raises them to you, "He's in a bad mood, but I think with you he's…well, we gave him a painkiller." she tells you as she walks past you.

"But how did that happen?" you ask stopping her.

"That stubborn fellow last night at five o'clock had to knock off, but he wanted to finish a job upstairs at all costs, so he stayed with four other unconscious men like him until eight o'clock. By that time it's dark up here, very dark in spite of the lights, he slipped along with some equipment on the ramp leading upstairs." you pale "The cuts are mostly superficial, except for one on his side. A couple of friends working in the ER stitched him up."

"He needs to be taken to the hospital," you say seriously concerned.

She smiles bitterly and shakes her head "Since that episode happened to his daughter, Miller hasn't set foot in a hospital." the woman looks at you as if she has let a secret slip.

"What happened to his daughter?" you ask her hoping she will talk, but she shakes her head and replies "I can't be the one to tell you about it, he has to. If you're as important to him as it seems. . . well, he'll talk to you about it sooner or later." you lower your gaze "Now go to him."

You swallow, then turn away from the woman and enter, the room is semi-dark and cold, there are dozens of cabinets along two walls and then at the back a window through which only faint glimpses of light enter and a worn sofa on which Joel is lying. You leave your bag at the doorway dropping it and hurry next to him from the side, his face is swollen, you can clearly make out a cut at the level of his left cheekbone and lower lip, his arms are covered with large bloodstained bandages and his work uniform is half-open revealing a gauze on his side below which you imagine are the stitches the woman told you about.

You very gently caress the contour of his face, his face twitching in a small grimace perhaps from pain perhaps from discomfort you don't know, he opens his eyes and when he sees you he hints a pale smile "Is it the painkillers or are you really here?"

"Joel. . ." you tell him in a whisper moving closer to his face "I'm here."

"My beautiful. . . wonderful. . . writer" he mumbles raising an arm toward your face, when his hand brushes your face and then moves your hair you have chills, you place your hand on his, you feel it warm and ruined under your fingers "'m fine." he adds "Don't be impressed, I've been worse."

"Is that why you don't want me to see you naked?" you ask smiling and causing him to smile back.

"Guessed." he replies closing his eyes, for a while you don't speak again, you think he has fallen asleep, but then he says, "I missed feeling your breath against my skin."

"I missed you." you confess, squeezing his hand a little tighter and placing a kiss on the back of his hand "If something happened to you. . ." the words choke in your throat.

"'m right here, honey. 'm not going anywhere." he tells you reassuringly and stroking your cheek with his fingertips in a slow and extremely gentle gesture.

You place your head suddenly between arm and shoulder and he barely jerks, "Sorry!" you exclaim, but he holds you down "No, 's okay, just take it easy. Come on." he tells you moving a little further into the couch. You remain lying on that small and uncomfortable couch, you don't dare to move for fear of hurting him, he's the one looking for your hand, which he occasionally squeezes, but without making a sound. You wonder if he squeezes it to reassure you or because he feels pain.

Joel just turns his face toward yours, "You here alone?"

It's your cell phone vibrating, interrupting that almost perfect silence, Kristen.

You completely forgot about her! You reassure her that everything is fine and that you are with Joel; then, she reminds you to call your mother and tells you she is leaving.

"No," you answer, shaking your head, "I'm with Kristen. She was waiting for me downstairs, you know, afraid that it wasn't the right construction site or that you weren't here," you explain to him.

"If you want to go with your friend, go. I think I'll stay a little longer like this and then go home. Join me later if you want." he tells you in a slightly dizzy voice.

"No." you tell him, "I came for you. If you want me, I'll stay with you," you tell him, looking at him.

He opens and closes his eyes, pulls you gently toward him making your head rest in the crook of his neck, "I want you all the time." he tells you "You know, I've been thinking about you all the time lately. There's not a moment in my day when my thoughts don't go to you." you lift your face slightly toward him "I have three words on the tip of my tongue, but dunno if it's fair to tell you." he adds before breathing deeply.

Your heart pounding in your chest, you close your eyes and inhale his scent.

"I have them too, from the bottom of my heart," you whisper, holding you to him and closing your eyes.

When Joel feels better, the two of you with Tess drive him home. You've reclined the passenger seat to make him lie down or almost lie down, you're sitting in the middle in the back seat. Tess doesn't talk much, she just casts brief glances at you from the rearview mirror and occasionally glances toward Joel who, however, does not look at you or at her.

Once finished, you help him put on a clean T-shirt and invite him to stay there while you prepare a plate of pasta with some tomato sauce, again he rebels initially, but in the face of your firm tone he can only surrender. You hand him the plate by sitting next to him, eating in silence. From time to time he lays his head back against the backrest and closes his eyes holding his breath, "Does it hurt?" he shakes his head, but the expression on his face says otherwise "What can I do?" you ask him.

The little house Joel rented here is much smaller than the one he has in town. In fact, it has a kitchenette, a bedroom and a bathroom. You help him shed his overalls, although he initially rebelled at being treated like he's ill, but you insisted. You sit him down on the worn-out couch in the kitchen and there for the first time you see his completely naked torso and it's huge, but what strikes you most besides his mighty are the many old and new cuts and scars that decorate his arms, his shoulder blades, his back. You are tempted to caress them all, but not now. You try to wash him as best you can without getting too close to the area where the stitches are.

Your eyes constantly cross, when he sees you uncertain he reassures you with a look or a nod.

You stop that thought from your mind, "Come." he says, inviting you to join him. You are wearing a shirt from a few years ago now ruined and three sizes larger, it's so big that it almost reaches your knee. You wear only that one to sleep in and briefs.

He turns to you, "You're here." he tells you causing you to miss a beat and smile.

You enjoy each other's company, he would like to lean toward you and kiss you, but the stitches are pulling and he must not strain. You accompany him to bed, where he wears only a T-shirt and a pair of dark boxers. You swallow, if he wasn't like this. . .

You lie down next to him, he's on his back, you can see him in the semi-darkness of the room, "Who was that woman at the construction site?" you ask, turning to him and gently laying a hand on his chest.

"Tess, a pain in the ass, but she's the only friend I have. The only one who has known me for years. She's a tough cookie."

"I saw. She seems cool," you say.

He nods, then turns to you, "Did you go to my place to write?"

"Once. I wrote. A lot. But without you, it's not the same." you say making squiggles on his chest with your index finger "I would have wanted you around, maybe hugging me and taking a look at what I was writing." you confide, he turns back to you "Next time.'' he tells you, giving you a kiss on your lips.

He takes your hand that was lying on his chest and squeezes it tightly intertwining his fingers with yours, he then runs his fingers down to your forearm and then looking you in the eyes he says "Come." you look at him puzzled "Come on me, I want to kiss you properly." he adds.

Your heart is pounding, you don't know how or, rather, you have a vague idea, but you don't know if it's right. He holds your hand as he guides you by making you lie completely on him. You feel even smaller in this position on him.

"If you have pain or discomfort, tell me," you tell him referring to the stitches, he shakes his head softly and then pulls you closer to him.

You are face to face, Joel barely leans toward you and captures your lips in a kiss that takes your breath away. You think back to how sick you were without him, you think back to the fear you had when you learned he was hurt, as Joel slips a hand through your hair crushing you even more against him.

I love you, you'd like to say, you'd like to let him know, as you too plunge your hands into his hair and your breaths grow shorter and shorter and merge into each other.

You gently stroke his forehead to check that he doesn't have a fever or any other problems; thankfully, everything is fine. He's breathing normally and doing well. You check that the stitches are still intact, once you are satisfied that all is well, you caress his face, his features, you feel under your fingers his unshaven beard, caress in a gesture entirely new to you his neck, his Adam's apple. You see him wrinkle his nose and furrow his brow, then slowly open his eyes finding your eyes at once, you smile at him and he smiles back.

His arms held you close to him all night, you did nothing but exchange long caresses, glances and kisses. And that was enough for you.

You wake up with your head on his chest, your hair partly on his chest and partly on your shoulders, you raise your head slowly and look at Joel's face. His lips parted, his hair tousled - and it's partly your fault too - a serene expression on his face, his wrinkles barely noticeable. The grazes and bruises clash so much with his handsome face.

"G' morning." you say smily.

"'Morning." he says with his voice still slurred from sleep "How long have you been awake?"

"A little while." you reply, giving him a kiss on his sternum.

"And what were ya doing?" he asks looking at you with his dark brown eyes.

"I was watching you. Sorry. . . maybe that's creepy for you. . ." you are about to say, but he smiles so you stop.

"Remember when we slept together at my house?" you nod "I watched you sleep, too. You were like a magnet, I couldn't stop doing it." he continues cupping your cheek, you close your eyes for a moment surrendering to his touch and feeling your heart beating fast "You were. . . you're beautiful." he says gently stroking your lower lip with his thumb.

"I wish. . ." you are about to say something you never thought you would have the courage to say out loud considering your lack of knowledge on the subject, in fact to tell the truth you thought you would only ever write it down in your stories and instead. . .

"Would you like to?" he urges you, stroking your hair.

"I would like to. . ." you bite your lower lip softly "I'd like to make love with you." you say all in one breath, now you would like to hide from his huge dark eyes that seem to want to read you inside, you see him swallow and then he caresses the contour of your face with a finger "Sorry, maybe. . . uhm. . . you don't want to, you don't. . ." you don't know how to continue.

"Who told you I don't want to?" he tells you wrinkling his forehead.

You look at him incredulously almost, blinking several times unable to comment on his answer.

"I just don't think you're ready yet."

"I am." you reply, trying to sound firm and tame that unfamiliar fire inside you.

"We should wait a little longer. I don't want you to have even more pain than necessary." he says moving a strand of hair behind your ear "Y' know it's going to hurt the first time, right?" you nod "I don't want you to feel even more pain because I didn't prepare you properly." he adds.

You lower your gaze for a second, "By prepare well. . . what exactly do you mean?" you ask, showing him once again your inexperience.

"When I feel better, we'll talk about it," he replies.

Interrupting that almost awkward moment there's your phone vibrating.

MOM, it appears on the screen.

Shit, you totally forgot.

"Hello?" you say snapping to your phone answering immediately.

"Weren't you supposed to call me as soon as you got here, were you?" she scolds you.

"Sorry, you're right, while we got the room and then settled in, the meetings. . . sorry." you look toward Joel who scrutinizes you with an indecipherable look.

"Is Kristen with you?" she asks.

"She went downstairs, we have a meeting soon and she went to get croissants before to start, I just got out of the shower."

"All right. So, I won't keep you, have a good day. Call me tonight."

"Alright, bye." you say interrupting the call and placing your cell phone on the bedside table.

You sigh and then turn your gaze to Joel, who stares thoughtfully at the ceiling, you stroke his arm and he looks back at you "You had to tell more lies." it's not a question, it's a statement, and his tone of voice is very, very bitter.

"I didn't tell her about-"

"Us?" he asks you "She asked about you and John though!" he retorts, returning to staring at the ceiling with a disappointed, regretful air "Right?" he adds, turning back to you.

"I only told her about Jack because it would have been more acceptable to her," you tell him, but then you regret what you said because you told him that he's no good.

He looks at you, his expression is full of pain "Got it," he only says, but you don't think he understood what you really wanted to say "Can you help me up?" he says, you want to tell him no, but his tone doesn't admit any other answer but yes.

You get up from the bed and go to his side, put your hands on his shoulder blades as he, too, clutches your forearms to give himself that push he needs to sit up; you feel against your hair his warm breath get short, "How's it going sitting up?" you ask him.

"Fine." he answers you, but his tone is icy; he's angry about what you said.

You kneel down in front of him, "Joel," you say laying a hand on his knee, "I'm sorry if you misunderstood, but I didn't mean that you're not good enough. I didn't mean that, sorry if I misspoke. You are everything to me. I've had a lot of firsts with you, you're the only one I trust completely, I've never slept with anyone, I've never allowed anyone to touch me, I've never allowed anyone to get into my heart." you tell him looking straight into his eyes hoping this time not to be misunderstood.

He says nothing, looking down at you with his huge dark eyes, his breath short from the exertion he has just made, "If I should get too much," he says, but you shush him by stepping even closer and telling him, "I don't want to hear it, it won't happen."

"If it should," he resumes, "I want you to tell me and I won't see you again, I won't look for you, I won't put you in a position to lie to be with me, but to be with that other guy. . ."

"Joel," you interrupt him again, "I broke up with Jack. I don't want to be with him, I don't want him. There's only you." you tell him, feeling his breath stop for a moment as well.

"I can't be mad at you," he admits, stroking your lower lip again with a finger "Come," he says making you sit on his lap, "The truth is you drive me crazy." he tells you slipping a hand through your hair making your face come closer to his "I wish you were happy away from me, but I don't want you to go away. I'm so selfish. . ."

You kiss him fleetingly on the lips, "I don't want to be away from you. Got it?" you ask him sinking your hands into his curls, resting your forehead against his causing your breaths to mingle, "Please don't doubt how you feel about me," you tell him, "Because I have no doubt."

He captures your lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing madly and your breaths growing shorter and shorter. He pushes you toward him, slipping his large, warm hands under your T-shirt and sitting you on his intimacy only covered by his boxers.

You never want to break this kiss, but you both need to catch your breath.

He caresses your arms, then looks long into your eyes as if to ask your permission, you nod giving him your silent consent, and he slips his hands under your T-shirt lifting it up and slipping it off with your help. You remain with your torso completely naked on him, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but it feels so erotic, so beautiful, more beautiful than you ever thought.

You thought that feeling his gaze on your chest, on you, would make you strongly uncomfortable, you thought you would even freeze, and instead in a rush, which you didn't think you had, you bring his hands to your bare breasts. You both groan at that contact, "Can I kiss it?" he asks you without breaking eye contact, "Yes." you reply in a trembling voice.

Feeling his lips on your nipple makes you gasp and at the same time close your eyes, you let yourself go completely to his caresses. Feeling his unshaven beard there, his hot breath, his tongue licking you gently and his lips sucking gently your breast, lead you to moan and gently bite your lower lip. You press his head against your chest, perhaps hurting him, but it is a sensation that sends you completely out of the ordinary.

"I'd stay kissing your breast for hours, 's perfect. You are perfect." he tells you, moving from one breast to the other with a little pop.

"J - Joel… please…" you find yourself pleading without even knowing exactly what the next step to take is, your vision blurs, you press yourself harder against him making your intimacies cling together as well, he gasps "Touch me." you say, he pulls his face away from your chest and you, in a bold move, get up from him slipping off your briefs and sit back down on him, on his now clearly evident prominence.

"You drive me crazy." he tells you taking a long moment to observe you, you are completely naked on top of him while he's still wearing his now bulky T-shirt and boxers.

"Take me." you tell him, bringing his hands to your hips.

He smiles as if you have said something particularly funny, "What?" you ask him blinking.

"What have you done with the sweet version of you?" he asks you barely clasping his hands on your hips, you smile at him giving him a kiss first on his lips and then moving down his neck, feeling him hold his breath.

"I'm still the same." you answer him between kisses "Sweet and insecure, but other times I know what I want and you know thanks to who?" you add going up to his chin giving him a very light bite "Thanks to you." you resume looking into his eyes.

"If I could move freely…" he tells you as a small grimace appears on his face, causing him to furrow his brow.

"What would you do?" you ask, looking at him with eyes full of curiosity and lust.

"Joel…" you moan, pressing even harder against his chest eager for more clutch.

He swallows, moves a strand of your hair and then with his hands descends back down to your intimacy, wraps it completely in his hand and caresses your outer lips with a finger. You hold your breath tightening your grip on his shoulders, you look into his eyes as if seeking safety, he kisses the tip of your nose as he continues that exhausting caress.

Your intimacy throbs, you feel yourself on fire as he continues those movements with a slow cadence making you want to be filled completely by his big finger.

Finally, oh finally, his finger sinks inside you, inch by inch, it's a sensation that makes you hold your breath, but you deeply desired, he stays still for a while then slowly begins to pump in and out, the rhythm makes you moan and close your eyes. After a while he stops and you, with blurred vision, look at him puzzled, "Now I will insert another finger, if you have pain tell me and I will stop."

He must have noticed the bewilderment on your face because he reassures you, "Don't worry, I'll go very slowly. I won't do anything that will hurt you, okay?" you nod, "You tell me if you want me to stop, though," he reiterates.

A second finger?

It will never go in, or will it?

A second finger enters you very, very slowly, sinking even more slowly than the first in your throbbing cunt. You feel your walls almost give way to his passage, you groan and close your eyes, it feels. . . strange, but so. . . you are at a loss for words. It's even better than you could have thought!

With the palm of his hand he rubs your clit sending more discharges of pure lust all along your body, you moan shamelessly rubbing yourself against him, "Joel. . . oh. . ." you can't speak, he lays his other hand at the base of your back stroking you with slow gestures, "I'm going to. . . I'm going to. . ."

"'s okay, just let go." his words are enough, his fingers continuing to move in and out of you at an ever-increasing pace, his hand caressing you is enough to make you close your eyes and let out a long resounding moan.

You let go, abandoning your head on his shoulder as he continues to pump gently still in and out of you, then he pulls his fingers away from you and you feel his hands encircling you and moving closer to your torso and then placing a kiss between your shoulder and your neck, "'s okay." he says then giving you another kiss on your neck and moving your hair causing you to shiver.

When you open your eyes again, you notice how visibly aroused he is, how his arousal is. . . big, very big, you have chills. You want to make love with him, but he will never fit that inside you.

"Why don't you want me to touch you like you do with me?" you ask him intentionally settling better on him causing him to close his eyes and part his lips.

He lays a kiss on your forehead, then you look up and meet his eyes, "We were fighting. . . and then. . ." he says with a smile, a smile you return, "then you realized the reason was futile." you complete.

He nods, "You are. . ." he sighs noisily "so important to me, to my life, to my heart." he admits, caressing your face and scrutinizing you for a long time. You press yourself against him wrapping your arms around his neck, he groans. You sat on him completely, you also jerk and lower your gaze, "No." he says almost interpreting your look.

"I think you've already had another first for today. Let's take it slow." he says, "We'll do that too, honey, I promise." he says stroking your bare back in a slow motion that makes you close your eyes.

"I'd like to make you feel as good as you did me," you tell him looking into his eyes, "I don't want to touch you if you don't want to, but now it's your turn. You can't just worry about me, tell me what to do."

"It's… not…" he's about to complain, but you move a little awkwardly on his shaft and he finds himself swallowing, "it's. . . not necessary. . ."

"Joel!" you call back to him, "Really, tell me what to do." you add, this time intentionally touching his intimacy with yours.

"Fuck. . ." he groans closing his eyes, sighing noisily. He places his hands on your hips and moves you back and forth on his bulge, you both moan at that clutch, "Oh, fuck," he groans again gasping as you place your hands on his shoulders continuing to rub against him, "That's so. . . oh, baby, I. . ." his expression is tense, the vein on his neck clearly visible.

"Joel. . . don't stop." you moan as you move closer to him and give him kisses along the vein on his neck, you feel him gasp, move you on him a few more times and then he lets out a long resounding moan that deliciously fills your ears and leads you to encircle his neck with your arms as you too feel you have experienced a second orgasm just in rubbing against his manhood.

You stay like that against each other for a while longer, then you shift and slip on your briefs again, feel his burning gaze follow you, look up and meet his eyes, slip your T-shirt back on and put on a pair of shorts trying to ignore that almost clutching feeling at the pit of your stomach.

"You hungry?" you ask him.

He nods.

"Pancakes? Or ham and eggs?" you offer him.

"Coffee." he replies with a relaxed expression painted on his face.

"You can't have breakfast with just coffee, you know what happens? You get annoying." you look at him with an amused look making him visibly relax "Do you want to wash up first? Shall I give you a hand?"

He looks at you amused, "Nice try."

You blush, "I'm serious. . . I didn't mean anything."

"Then why are ya all flushed?" he asks relaxing completely.

"Because … I'm not used to these allusions, I always hated 'em. Gina, my friend, makes constant allusions to sex, and it always makes me uncomfortable." you confide to him.

"Why?" he asks cocking his head to one side with a small grimace twitching his face.

You sit down next to him, "I always saw sex as something awkward, strange. . . maybe because I didn't know my body, maybe because I never shared a truly intimate moment with another person, and maybe because I looked at sex as something deeply intimate and not to be talked about like that." you confide again "Do you think I'm strange?" you ask turning to him.

"Not at all. I'm a lucky old man." he says "Not everyone approaches sex immediately."

You nod, "Well, would you rather wash first - no innuendo - and then eat?"

"Okay, will you help me?" he asks looking to his side.

"Does it hurt?" you ask as you stand up and help him to his feet.

"A little, I think the painkillers wore off by now," he replies.

"Lean on me," you tell him, encircling his waist with your arm; he smiles at you, "Don't worry."

You help him get to the bathroom, then take off his T-shirt revealing himself in his might, he reveals to you once again his broad torso full of old and new scars and you again stand almost open-mouthed, you are very attracted to that strip of dark hair disappearing into his boxers. You look away feeling yourself flaming again.

"May I ask how you fell and what you were doing in the dark?" you ask as you wash his shoulders paying attention to the recent cuts and bruises present.

"Tess…" he replies with a sigh, shaking his head "she never shuts up." shortly after he adds "I heard that if we didn't complete the work on at least the upstairs by the beginning of next week, we won't going to get paid and I want to get paid because I busted my back on that fucking construction site!" he blurts out "And instead I put my foot wrong and fell with those tools. I'm an old fool." he exclaims with a sigh.

"You're not at all, you wanted to get paid for the hard work! But even if they don't have to pay you this job, though, you'll find another one," you tell him, passing the sponge between his neck and shoulders.

He shakes his head, "I don't know, the truth is maybe I should stop giving myself over to these things and do something else, even though this is what I am." he concludes by lowering his head.

"Joel," you say stopping washing him and squatting down next to him "don't talk like that about yourself, you're 47 years old it's true, but that doesn't mean you have to quit, it's true yours is a dangerous job, but you can still do it. Maybe not open construction sites, you could renovate single-story houses, you could do something a little less dangerous." you tell him abandoning the sponge and stroking his face "Look at me, please" he finally looks up "You're fine like this, you're perfect like this. It happens to everyone to fail, but if for every failure we said I'm not good enough I'd better give up, well we wouldn't live anymore!"

His formerly sad eyes become sweet and serene again, he reaches out a hand to you and caresses one cheek, this contact makes you close your eyes, you surrender to him, as always, whenever you are with him.

"You're sweet, I've always said so."

You smile looking into his eyes, "We need each other, did you see?"

He nods, "I'm taking your advice. Will you take one from me?" you look at him questioningly, "I read that there's in Seattle a contest for new writers, entries are due in June, why don't you sign up?"

A contest for new writers? Oh, it's always been your dream to sign up for a literary contest, but Seattle is so far away. . . so far away from him.

"I know that look," he says making you look up at him, "you don't have to say yes or no right away, think about it. I'd like to know and see you accomplished. I'd like to see a picture of you everywhere that says writer of the year." he says smiley and making you smile "Or maybe see you win the Pulitzer Prize." he adds making you smile nervously as your vision blurs "I don't want you to stay in that ugly, dreary little town, you have so much potential. It would be a shame to waste it over there in a bar or even in a library, I have nothing against people who do those jobs," he tells you, cupping your face and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, "but I wouldn't want you to do that forever. You have a unique mind, you're brilliant, you're smart, you're too much to be confined only to yourself." you're crying, you can't hold back the tears anymore "Maybe someday someone might come and make some documentary about you and who knows they'll do some interviews around and they'll interview me too and I'll say I know her, I met the wonderful woman who's driving everybody crazy."

"Stop it," you tell him sobbing and hiding your face in your hands.

He calls you gently pulling you to him to hug you, you hide your face in the crook of his neck heedless of getting wet yourself. He holds you tightly to him, his hands caress your back, "'s okay, honey, 's okay." he says kissing your forehead, your cheek, your neck, your lips.

The truth is, you don't want to fulfill your dream if you know you have to leave him.

You surrender into his kisses, into his strong arms holding you to him trying to push that thought away as much as possible because, for you, it's not acceptable.

A/N Thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging and leaving comments 🫶 if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. 😉 Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful! 🙏 The girl in the gif has the purpose to represent the situation only 🙂

[pepsiconcoction]

Discounted Cookies | Han Jisung x Reader

pairing: barista!han jisung x gn!reaer

tags: coffee shop au, a little bit of angst, minor language, jisung is a lil flirt, reader doesn't wanna put up with it, fluff, no smut

requested? yes! by anon xox

an: i actually don't know how i feel about this, but it's cute regardless, anon i hope i captured what u meant, i tried my best to get reader to be Annoyed but i love jisung too much, sorry ;-;

wc: 3,890

4 times Jisung flirted with you + 1 time you flirted with him.

The first time you see him.

It’s a few minutes past midnight and you think this might be your end. You’re going to pass out, for sure. You had been studying at the library for the past 7 hours straight for an exam worth 60% of your grade. Studying Law was definitely a choice. Specifically, it was the choice you made two and a half years ago, resulting in you, at this moment, halfway through your third year and on the brink of a breakdown. The breakdown? Partially caused by your ex-boyfriend, who had just broken up with you no more than five days ago. You’re fine. People keep asking. You really wish they would stop.

In the distance, you spot a flood of warm, yellow light flooding out of a shop window. As you get closer, you recognise it’s a coffee shop, you think it may even be the one your friend had told you about, saying it was her favourite place to study as it’s open 24 hours. It seems tonight is the night you’re finally going to check it out.

It’s kind of snowy at your feet, thanks to the early month of the year, but you wish it was more picturesque and not just the grey slush that you think you can feel leaking through your boots. At least it’ll be nice to get some warmth for a few minutes.

You push open the door, a small bell jingling above your head, and the warmth hits you like a wall, suffocating in its intensity. There’s only one other person in here: an old trucker-looking guy, face held over a steaming cup of coffee. 

“I’ll be out in a second!” You hear a man shout from behind the counter, you guess he’s even further in the back than you can see. You hear a small commotion that sounds a bit like someone stamping on a cardboard box. A few seconds later, a guy appears, slightly dishevelled and running his hands through his hair as he exhales. His hair parts in the middle and brushes his eyebrows, slightly longer around the edges, as if gone uncut for a few months. A friendly face with round cheeks looks at you, a grin appearing on his face. He brushes down his apron and makes his way to the counter.

“Sorry about that, what can I get ya?” he asks.

“Just an Americano to go, please,” You smile back at him.

“Can I offer you any discounted sweet treats?” He gestures to an almost empty cake counter. “They’re discounted because it’s so late, not because they’re bad.” He quickly adds on. You spot a singular chocolate cookie looking very lonely.

“Sure, I’ll take the cookie,” you say, gesturing to it. 

“Good choice, madam.” He nods his head, punching it into the register.

“Can I take a name?”

“Do you need it?” You ask, looking around at the empty store.

“Not really, but I’d like it.” He shrugs.

“Y/n,” you sigh. This isn’t what you were looking for at the moment, but you decide to just let it go.

“Not having a good day?” he asks, seemingly concerned.

“Not having a good week,” you say flatly, hoping to communicate your disinterest.

“Well, Y/n, feel free to take a seat and I’ll bring it over to you once it’s done.” He grins again and spins around, getting to work on the coffee machine. God, who even has this much energy this late at night? Crazy people, that’s who.

You sit down at one of the tables, taking out your phone and it reads 12:17am. It feels like it’s mocking you. You scroll through your socials, attempting to keep what small semblance of a social life you think you have together, but a few minutes later, a familiar barista comes into your view. You stand up, accepting the coffee from him and he hands you the cookie which is now in a brown, paper bag.

“One Americano, and one discounted cookie.” He hands you each and you stand up, thanking him. 

“And maybe a little extra something, since you’re having a bad week and all,” he adds quietly, shuffling on his feet slightly. You peek inside the bag and notice a candy bar, something chocolatey. 

“Thank you,” You stutter, not expecting the kind gesture.

“Come back again soon!” He says, already heading back to the counter where he starts to mess with something, in a clear attempt to look busy. You turn and 

leave. Despite the cold air outside, there is an unfamiliar warmth in your body.

The second time you see him.

You wake up the next day, surprisingly on time despite the lack of alarm. It’s only 10am and you mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead of you. The exam is in 5 days. Thankfully you’re studying at home today, not needing the library for today’s subjects. The state of your flat reflects your mind, it’s a mess, dishes in the sink, clothes piling up next to the dryer. After an hour or so of quick chores, it’s in a slightly better state, good enough to study in, you think.

And study, you do. Day turns to night and you find yourself closing the last page of a textbook, letting out a deep breath. You could feel your anxiety beginning to fizzle around your body, not fully convinced you’ve properly ingested all the revision you’ve done. You need some food. The second half of a pizza is sitting untouched from earlier and you kinda feel bad for it, poor thing. Your eyes flicker towards the candy bar sitting on your desk, where it was abandoned last night and you think about the guy from the coffee shop. You throw on a slightly warmer outfit and you definitely don’t spend the walk to the coffee shop thinking about whether he might be working. To your surprise, he is.

You can see him behind the counter from outside, he’s pouring frothed milk into a cup, presumably for the customer standing at the counter. It’s slightly busier at this time, you’re not surprised considering it’s only just coming up to 8pm. You push open the door and the bell jingles like it did the night before. He looks up, looking past the customer in front and his mouth quirks up into a smile, recognising you instantly. You look around him, at the large menu boards, you don’t want to give him an ego. 

The customer in front pays for their drink and leaves, and the man’s smile finally points directly at you.

“Hello again, Y/n, what can I get you today?” He grins at you, eyes crinkling. You’re surprised he remembers your name.

“A latte, please,” you say, glancing up at the menu.

“To go, or sit in?” His eyebrow quirks.

“Oh, uh-”

“You’re sitting in,” he answers for you, already punching it into the register.

“Fine.” Your roll your eyes. 

“Take a seat.” He gestures to the barstool-type seating a little further down the counter. You’re not really sure why you actually sit down.

“Is your week any better?” He looks over his shoulder as he makes your drink.

“Not really, no.” You respond. He pauses in his actions, looking at you expectingly.

“Are you going to tell me what’s up?” 

“We don’t know each other,” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“Okay, so my name is Jisung, Han Jisung, and today, I’m your barista. Tomorrow, maybe more!” He winks as he turns back to the machine which is spewing out your drink. 

“Well, Han Jisung, if you must know, I’m stressed the fuck out for my exam next Monday, I’ve got a practical in two days, and my boyfriend broke up with me a few days ago because I was too much for him. He was just a pathetic, weak little man, I really don’t know how I lasted that long with him.” You found yourself ranting, releasing some of the pent-up frustration you’ve been feeling for the past few days.

“Well,” Jisung starts. “that’s very fair.” He goes quiet for the remainder of the time he is making the drink, leaving a slightly awkward air around you. You focus your eyes on the counter in front of you in an attempt to ignore the stress coming back to you. All of a sudden a drink is slid across the counter.

“Is that a… squirrel?” You look from the cute latte art to the man standing across the counter from you. He looks sheepishly up at you.

“Yeah, looks like me, doesn’t it?” His grin is back, and you can feel a smile creeping onto your face.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Your eyes linger on his for a few moments, until a group of people enter the small cafe and his attention is brought away from you. You discreetly watch him as he works, greeting the customers with a big smile, and using his charisma to get an extra cake sale. You think maybe you fell for the same charisma yesterday, but you don’t really mind because the cookie was pretty good. A few minutes pass, and you sip on your drink, trying to keep the art as intact as possible. Once the last customer had been served he side steps back towards you.

“How is it? Has it fixed your week yet?” He raises his eyebrows, smirking slightly.

“I’m not sure a drink can fix my week,” you respond, letting out a small sigh.

“Nonsense! Of course, it can. Take a sip.” he gestures to you to lift the mug to your lips. You reluctantly take a sip.

“See? It’s working, no?” he chuckles. You put the cup down and try your best not to laugh.

“There’s that pretty smile!” he grins, earning a roll of your eyes. Your phone buzzes with an incoming email from your university, it’s just a random send-to-all type of email but it does remind you of your looming academic responsibilities.

“Thank you, for the squirrel,” you tell him while standing up from the stool. 

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, round eyes looking suddenly lost. 

“I’ve got work to do, I’ll see you around.”

“You better.” His grin is wide as he watches you leave, hoping you do come back soon.

The third time you see him.

“We crushed it!” You celebrate with your best friend, the two of you have just partaken in a mock legal trial as part of an assessment. Your Professor had wanted to challenge the class, setting up fake suspects and witnesses, and had even arranged for a court stenographer to be present. Your group had won the case, despite the opposing team putting up a pretty tough fight.

“Did you see the look on the judged face when you caught out the lying witness? I was trying so hard not to say something.” Your friend gushes, talking faster than you could keep up with.

“I know!” You laugh but break into a yawn as the previous nights studying catches up with you once the excitement is over.

“Coffee?” She asks.

“Absolutely.” 

You’re so engrossed in the conversation as the two of you walk that you don’t even realise you’ve made it all the way to the familiar coffee shop. You stop in your tracks a few feet from the door.

“Not here,” you groan.

“Why not? This place does the best coffee on campus.” She looks confused as she turns back to you.

“I always see the same barista, and he always hits on me, I just can’t be bothered today.” You whine a little, trying to convince her.

“Well, is he working right now?” 

You take a step further, enough to look through the window and see the counter. There is a man, but it’s not Jisung.

“I don’t see him.” You trail off, scanning the rest of the shop as much as you can see.

“Alright then, we’re getting coffee here.” Your friend grabs you by the hand and practically pulls you into the small cafe. There is a surprising queue, so you continue to just make conversation with her until you’re next at the counter. The barista who serves you has curly, black hair and biceps that honestly look like they’re about to burst his sleeves. He greets both of you with a smile and begins to punch your orders into the register.

“Changbin! Catch!” You hear a familiar voice. Your heart sinks to your ass. The barista serving you, Changbin, turns back and looks towards the door into the back. Peeking around the cake stand, you catch a glimpse of Jisung. He’s hanging onto the door with a container of what looks like soya milk. He throws it, and Changbin catches it.

“Sorry about that, our delivery was late this morning and only just arrived, so it’s a bit crazy right now,” Changbin explains, replacing an empty soya milk container.

“Don’t worry about it. It happens.” You shrug. He finishes taking your order and the two of you move to the side to wait.

“He’s kind of fit,” your friend leans into you to say, once you’re both out of earshot.

“In more ways than one.” you giggle.

Your attention is quickly averted towards the door to the backroom, particularly to Jisung who is rushing out of it and towards the counter, tying his apron at the same time. 

“Sorry Bin, it’s a nightmare back there.” He says, getting to work on coffee orders.

“No worries, we’re not too busy anymore, the rush seems to be over.” You realise that you and your friend were the last in the queue and the cafe has died down a little since you first entered. Jisung also takes a quick glance around, and that’s when he spots you.

“Y/n,” he says. “Back to see me so soon?” His lips turn up into a small smirk.

“You wish.” You roll your eyes. He just laughs and turns back to the coffee machine. You look at your friend and give her a look, the look you get in return translates to 'message received'. 

“He’s kinda cute,” she whispers to you, thankfully you were far away enough for her not to be heard. You sighed. He is kind of cute but that’s not what you’re looking for right now. You’re in a weird enough head space as it is with all the stress of law school and the breakup, not even two weeks ago! You can’t seriously be thinking about dating so soon. Right…?

You’re ripped from your thoughts by the very same man that caused them.

“A white hot chocolate?” Jisung announces to the two of you, but he’s looking at you.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You step up to the counter and begin to take it.

“You’re looking very fancy today, big plans?” he asks, smiling.

“I had a mock trial this morning.” You say and he looks at you with wide eyes, kind of like a deer in headlights.

“You know, like a court trial?” you ask.

“Law! That’s what you’re studying.” He finally realises.

“I didn’t say?” You’re now the one who’s confused.

“No, you never, I’ve been trying to figure it out, trying to guess.” he laughs. Changbin appears next to him and slides an espresso onto the counter, your friend stepping over to take it.

“Bin, they’re a lawyer! Isn’t that cool?” Jisung gushes a little, looking back at you with big eyes. 

“They won their trial this morning.” Your friend interrupts before you can say anything. You shoot her a look.

“Really?” The big, sparkling doe eyes are back as he leans against the counter.

“I, uh, yeah,” you stutter a little.

“Wow, that’s so cool.”

“Sung, I don’t pay you to stand around and flirt with our customers.” Changbin walks back towards the coffee machine and he begins prepping another order. 

“You don’t pay me at all, you’re not even a manager!” Jisung starts whining as he stands up properly. He turns back to you.

“Enjoy your drinks!” He says. You take this as your queue to leave and make a beeline out of the coffee shop, drink in hand. Your friend follows behind you, honestly a little confused.

Once you’re a safe distance from the shop, you finally feel able to breathe again. 

The fourth time you see him.

Beep… beep… beep…

Your alarm. You reach over and turn it off, groaning as you roll back over, the feeling of dread already seeping into your bones. It’s the morning of the exam. The exam you’ve been dreading. The exam that is responsible for 60% of your grade. You groan again.

You feel heavy as you walk around your flat, attempting to get ready for the day ahead of you. It doesn’t help that you broke the fundamental exam rule of getting a good night’s sleep, tossing and turning until eventually passing out. So many textbooks have been haunting your thoughts that you barely noticed you’ve also been thinking about something else. Or rather someone else.

You can’t stop, he keeps popping up in your mind. His round face, and big smile. You feel yourself smiling just thinking about it. But fuck, it feels wrong. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. You don’t have time! You have a big exam, which conveniently starts in just over an hour. 

You need a coffee.

You get to the familiar coffee shop at 11:31am. Your exam starts at noon. It takes 20 minutes to walk to the campus building it’s being held at. You probably don’t have time for this. 

You see him. He’s behind the counter. You think your head hurts.

“Hey,” he greets you with that smile again. You feel sick. “What can I getcha?”

“Just a black coffee, to go.” Your voice croaks a little from its lack of use.

“You’re not staying with me?” He smirks, punching it into the register.

“No.”

You see him falter a little at your cold tone. His eyebrows quirk down a little.

“Are you alright?” he asks as you swipe your phone to pay.

“Stop it, Jisung. Can’t you just leave me alone today, God,” you say exasperated, and step away from the counter. You try to ignore the hurt look in his eye and you really try to ignore the way he shrunk in on himself. A different member of staff you’ve never seen before hands you the drink and you leave the coffee shop without looking back at him. 

The exam goes terribly. At least it feels like it goes terribly. Your head is a mess, the guilt chewing at you the entire time. You do your best, writing everything you recall but by the end of it you have a decent headache and the pit in your gut has grown. You leave the exam and go home, collapsing in your bed and you fall asleep telling yourself you’ll feel better when you wake up.

The fifth time you see him.

You wake up in the afternoon the next day. 

You don’t feel much better. Not after binging on a pizza and your favourite chocolate. Not after watching that movie that makes you cry every time. Not even after you’ve journaled about it. You think that particular journal entry is mostly scrambled nonsense. It probably is.

You decide to go for a walk to clear your head. Maybe the cold, winter air will freshen you up, and make you feel a bit better. With a big coat and a warm scarf wrapped around you, you walk into the evening air, it’s already past 11pm so you mostly see young people out drinking despite the weather. You have no destination but of course, you end up there.

The warm, yellow-toned light pours from the window as usual. The bell above the door is jarring to your fragile little heart. 

He’s there.

He has his back to you, cleaning some sort of container in the sink. 

“Two seconds!” he sing-songs. You don’t respond. A few seconds later he’s done and spins around to you. His eyes widen a little and then drop.

“Hi.” He steps towards the register.

“Hi,” you respond.

“Would you like something to drink?” his tone is passive, despite his words being polite. 

“A hot chocolate, please, to sit in.” You try to smile at him, he focuses on the register. He nudges the card reader towards you as he steps away to get started on your drink. You move towards the bar-stool seating you sat on previously.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” you ask. He looks back to you.

“Go ahead,” he glances back at you. You take a seat and look around, and you realise for the first time that you’re the only person in here, apart from Jisung. You look back towards him just as he put the cup down in front of you.

“Thank you,” you smile again, he gives you a small one but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns away and starts fiddling with the coffee machine.

“Jisung, can I talk to you?” you ask.

“I thought you wanted me to leave you alone.” He says without turning around.

“Please.”

 That gets him to turn around at least, even if he is still looking at anything but you. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you yesterday. I was just a mess, and that’s not an excuse but I need you to know I didn’t mean it,” you trail off, picking up your drink and taking a sip, appreciating its sweetness. 

“And to be honest, I kind of miss the flirty Jisung. I was beginning to like him.” You take another sip of your hot chocolate, smirking to yourself when you see his head shoot up toward you.

“You do?” His eyes soften a little when you nod.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay. But it’s okay. To be honest, I probably was coming on weirdly strong, huh?” He scratches the back of his neck while you chuckle.

There is a moment of silence as you look down at your hot chocolate. Until a thought sparks in your head.

“Why do you flirt with me?” 

“What?” His eyes widen and the poor guy looks like he’s about to shit his pants.

“Why do you flirt with me? Or do you just flirt with anyone?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No! I don’t, it’s really just you, and I don’t know why, I just kinda… liked you? I mean, you seemed cool and nice and definitely my type.” He catches himself rambling. 

“I’m your type?” You ask, smirking.

“Well, yeah.” he chuckles. You laugh too.

“Han Jisung, I think we should go on a date.” You say, definitively. 

“Really?!” He stands up from where he was leaning against the back counter and crosses towards you.

“Actually, never mind.” You roll your eyes, chuckling.

“Do not play with my heart like this, I’m sensitive!” he clutches at his chest dramatically, making you laugh louder.

“Fine, but I get to pick where we’re going.”

“Deal! Just tell me a time and I’ll be there.” His grin tells you that he will live up to that. You fall into another silence as you hold each other’s gaze, just smiling.

“Hey, Y/n, you want a discounted cookie?”

“I’d love one.”

taglist - @lethallyprotected

[diazsdimples]

James' Fic Masterlist!

It was time for an update

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kilty Pleasures (Explicit, 8k | Buddie)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Burning With Need (Explicit, 3.8k | Buddie)

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

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

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

First Words (General, 2k | Buddie)

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

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 ao3

Steve gets quiet.

They’re not talking about it, but Eddie can read more than enough into the silence, into the way Steve gets a fixed look in his eyes, keeps going to some place that he cannot follow. His jaw clenches a few times, as if he’s trying to hide how his breath starts to catch every so often; it’s such a subtle movement, but Eddie notices.

He can’t afford to not notice.

It feels too familiar. Feels like a clock ticking.

He slips away when a nurse brings up some dinner—tries to justify his exit as Steve is seemingly distracted, shooting the shit with her. The excuse is weak even in his own head; it doesn’t stop a nasty inner voice from whispering venomously, That’s right, run away. You’re a coward.

But his skin is crawling, and he can’t—He needs—

He presses the phone firmly against the side of his face, so that it feels as if each dial tone reverberates through him. He’s lucky, in the end, that Wayne picks up, caught in a lull between volunteering and his night shifts starting again. Eddie tries to crack a joke about how it didn’t take long for mundane routine to return, but his heart isn’t in it.

And of course Wayne can hear that. “Eddie,” he says, “what’s wrong?”

Eddie swallows. “I—I can’t stop thinking that—that something’s going to happen.” And the phrasing sounds childish out loud, but he can’t think of another way to put it. Can’t stop feeling that a part of him has never left the RV, still on the precipice of knowing…

“Saw that Nancy Wheeler at the trailer park,” Wayne says mildly.

Momentarily thrown, Eddie frowns. “Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. There was a big group of folks cleaning up there—I thought I’d shown up early for it, but she looked like she’d been there for hours.” Before Eddie can even ask how she was, Wayne goes on: “She smiled at me, but she was really quiet. Got her a coffee just so she could hold onto it, you know?”

Eddie smiles. “That’s… thanks, Wayne.”

“I think she was waiting for something to happen, too,” Wayne says, gentle.

Eddie breathes in and out.

“That kinda feeling doesn’t just leave you overnight, Ed. Even if there’s nothing left to—”

“But what if—” Eddie has to cut himself off, frightened suddenly that he will speak it into existence.

“Talk to him, Eddie,” Wayne says.

Eddie stands there holding the phone long after he’s hung up.

-

He moves the couch so it sits flush against the side of the hospital bed. Steve watches him absently; his eyes keep drifting over to Eddie’s guitar.

But Eddie doesn’t pick it up. He sits down on the couch, faces Steve. Tries to be brave.

Steve isn’t looking at him now; he’s staring at some fixed point in the distance. The sight makes Eddie’s stomach clench.

“You have to tell me,” he gets out.

Steve blinks, turns to him. His eyebrows furrow slightly. “…What?”

“If it’s—if it’s not over,” Eddie says. “If you’re… if you’re seeing… fuck.” He shakes his head, his attempt at seeming even remotely calm shattering all at once. “Look, I-I’m sorry, I just—I can’t do it again.”

Steve stares at him.

“Please don’t make me do it again,” Eddie pleads. His voice breaks at the end.

Silence.

“Oh,” Steve whispers. Then, louder: “Oh, shit. No, Eddie, that’s—God, I’m sorry. That’s not it.”

Air leaves Eddie’s lungs in a dizzying rush of relief. “N-no?”

“No. I don’t—he’s gone, I don’t feel… there’s nothing there. Nothing.”

“Okay, that’s… okay.” Eddie nods repeatedly, reaches for the guitar—it doesn’t need tuned but the pattern of it helps to hide the residual shake to his hands. He feels a bit foolish now, but he’s fine with that, honestly. Better that than…

“I’m… I’m really sorry, Eddie,” Steve insists. “You weren’t supposed to see, like, any of it.”

Any relief Eddie might have felt evaporates. He feels suddenly very cold.

“What,” he says flatly. Has to set the guitar aside again. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The worst thing is that Steve just looks confused, like what he’s said is meant to have been reassuring.

“What do you…? It’s not a riddle, dude, I just meant it wasn’t for you to—I should’ve—”

“Oh my god,” Eddie breathes. “Oh my god.” He feels like he’s just been pushed off a cliff, like he’s in free fall.

He can’t avoid the thought, now: that, if he had fallen asleep in the RV, if Steve was alone when…

Eddie makes an involuntary, despairing noise—not quite a whimper, but close enough to it that Steve’s expression softens despite his lingering frown.

“Eddie,” he says, far too kindly. “I don’t… I’m kinda lost here. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Tell me,” Eddie manages.

“Tell you what?”

Eddie gives a shaky sigh. “Just—tell me you wouldn’t have—if I hadn’t heard you… Please. Please tell me you wouldn’t have—you wouldn’t have just gone off fucking quietly.”

Steve glances away.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie says.

Because he can see it now, can imagine blearily waking in the RV along with everyone else; can see the driver’s seat lying empty.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Steve says, and his voice sounds strange—choked with something Eddie can’t truly place.

“Like what?”

“Like it’s some…” Steve exhales, and he sounds almost angry. “I don’t know! Like it’s some big thing.”

Eddie laughs in disbelief. “A thing.”

“Yeah! Like it’s something—fucking noble or—”

“Then what is it?” Eddie counters, heart pounding.

“I—”

“’Cause from where I’m standing, Harrington, it seems like—”

“Look, would you just—”

“—you’re the only one who can play the hero card, is that it?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, and he laughs harshly. “You know what? Yeah, that’s exactly what I—Stop looking like that, you’ve got no fucking right to judge what I—”

“I’m not judging, I’m—”

“Just shut up!” Steve says, eyes wild; and Eddie has the sinking feeling that he’s somehow missed several steps in this conversation. “I don’t care what you think, ’cause even if I’d—no matter what, I’d choose it. I’d choose it fucking gladly.”

“How can you say that?” Eddie says, hushed. “How can you even—”

“Because it had to be me!”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Eddie laughs again, but it barely counts as one; the sound equal parts tired and devastated. “You realise that’s not a fucking answer, right?”

Steve’s hands are clutching the sheets with a vice-like grip. “Because,” Steve says, suddenly very, very quiet, “it couldn’t be anyone else. I… I couldn’t handle it, okay? I’m not… I’d never forgive…”

“Steve—”

“And he knew that,” Steve says. He sounds close to tears. “He knew.”

A long, long moment.

Eddie sighs. “Jesus. I’m—okay, okay. I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Can you just…?” Steve’s jaw clenches again. “Please just play.”

Eddie hesitates. Thinks of when he played the song this morning, Steve’s thousand-yard stare. “Not if it’s hurting you.”

“It helps,” Steve says, and Eddie can’t help thinking that it’s not quite a denial. “Helps me… remember.”

Eddie plays the song, but he doesn’t sing. Instead he searches and searches for something to say. He thinks of Chrissy. Fred. Patrick. How perhaps no-one had ever… noticed. Had never asked them.

But, faced with Steve, he doesn’t know where to start—instinctively feels like a question that’s too open-ended will seem too daunting to even begin to answer. So, he tries to keep it small. One step.

“How long did what?”

Steve blinks back into awareness. “Hmm?”

“This morning,” Eddie says. He slows his tempo until the song sounds almost like a lullaby. “You were gonna ask something, and you stopped yourself. How long…?”

“Oh.” Steve sighs. “Yeah.”

Eddie waits patiently, plays right through another verse until…

“How long did it take?”

Eddie hears the question, but he doesn’t understand. He continues to strum, replies, “How long did what take?”

“In your trailer,” Steve says, “for me to…?” And he must see something in Eddie’s face, because he’s quickly saying, “You don’t need to—Christ, I’m sorry.”

“No, I just—” Eddie drops the guitar, swallows through the sudden light-headedness, the nausea. “Just gimme a second.”

He must not be doing a very good job at collecting himself, because Steve looks stricken. “Eddie, you don’t have to—”

“Just gimme a second,” Eddie repeats, because if Steve withdraws now, he’ll never forgive himself. He covers his mouth with his hand for a moment, then says, “It was really fucking quick, man. Like…” He clicks his fingers, and it seems as if the sound echoes in the silence between them.

“Oh,” Steve says again. He pushes a palm briefly against his forehead, as if he’s the one to now feel light-headed. “That’s… Jesus, that’s really trippy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Felt like I was… Um. Felt like it went on for a… A lot longer.”

Eddie reaches out, slowly, slowly, to where one of Steve’s hands is gripping onto the sheets. He places his own hand on top, squeezes once. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You were…” Steve relaxes his hold, then pushes the back of his hand up against Eddie’s palm, like he’s leaning into the touch. “I remember, you were making me laugh. And then…”

The sight of the white film across Steve’s eyes flashes through Eddie’s mind, as harsh as lightning. He doesn’t allow himself to flinch. Keeps holding Steve’s hand.

And he gets it, suddenly. Because whatever is in Steve’s head is killing him, hurting him deeper than any physical wound ever could.

“Steve,” he says softly. Begging. “Please.”

Tell me.

Eventually, Steve nods. He smiles, of course he does, even through his fear. Takes a deep breath, then lets it out slow. “Okay.”

[ms-wwe]

CHAPTER 2 (Pt. 2) DAMIAN PRIEST X OC (RIGHTEOUS DESIRES: LOVE AND REDEMPTION IN THE RING)

“I know you were very reluctant to do this” She begins. “And I am so thankful that you chose to trust me to do this. As I’ve told you over the phone, hearing a small portion of your story was so compelling, and I feel that you deserve the chance to tell your truth in its entirety. With that being said, please do not hesitate to decline to comment, or to completely end the interview. I can only imagine how difficult this may be for you, and I want you to know it’s totally fine to stop and revisit, that’s why I allotted at least 3 interview days to meet in case you needed time to process or to just give your emotions a break” She tells me in her warm tone. Truth be told, I was thankful for the reassurance. I knew I trusted her, and that she wouldn’t pry for information I may not be ready to share. “ I really appreciate that” I say as I look down at my mug, trying to hold back the tears I feel swelling in my eyes. “I’m going to start my recorder now, are you ready?” She asks while holding the small recorder in her left hand. I sigh and nod in response. This was it, this was happening, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. “Where do you want me to start?” I ask her. “Let’s start from the beginning” I pull my right leg into my small chair, hugging my knee close to my torso, hoping it’ll bring me back down to earth and make my heart stop attempting to escape my chest. “I started in the WWE when I was sixteen” I say flatly. Cassie shakes her head with a small giggle. “No honey, I mean the very beginning. Start with your childhood. I want to go back to the very start of you, I want to know every facet there is of you. I want to know about Riot, not just Riot Hardy the wrestler, but Riot the woman.” She says in a reassuring tone. I close my eyes and take in a slow breath. I could do this, I owed it to myself to do this. I just needed to think of this as a casual conversation with someone. “My name is Riot Hardy, I’m a Virgo, my middle name is Elizabeth, I drink mass amounts of caffeine, I recently moved Orlando to be with my boyfriend Luis, Or Damian Priest if you know him by his ring name, we’ve been together officially since April of this year, I just turned thirty-four, my birthday is the day before my dad’s, and I’m not gonna lie, I miss living in small town North Carolina” I spill out like I’m gasping for air. Cassie is writing down notes as she speaks. “Tell me a little bit about your dads, I’m interested to know more about what the dynamic was like growing up” I smile as I think of my dads and what the early years of my life were like, how it felt being a small girl raised by three men, sometimes I felt it was a miracle I didn’t turn out to be gay. “We had an interesting dynamic in this house for sure” I say with a smile. “My dad had me when he was only sixteen. My mother wasn’t in the picture ever. She was significantly older when she was fooling around with my dad, she already had two other children that she’d given up for adoption, why she chose to give me to my dad, I have no idea, but I’m thankful everyday. In my really early years my grandfather took on more of the fatherly role around here. My dads were already chasing their wrestling dreams hard and heavy even back then, so my grandfather did his best to help my dad manage being a father and achieving his goals.” I continue as I sip my coffee. “Your grandfather sounds like a wonderful man. Was your grandmother involved? You’re quite close with your uncle, what was it like with him growing up?” She asks as she scribbles more notes down on the pages of her notebook. “My grandfather was the most selfless person you’d ever meet. He passed a few years ago and I don’t think I’ve fully recovered from that” I trail off as the heartache of my grandfather being gone sets in all over again.

[runningfrom2am]

achilles heel - I: Ben's Sister

summary:

Grace is the very opposite of her brother in every way. when she finally moves onto campus at UNC Chapel Hill, she feels like she gets to be her own person, make her own friends, and hopefully start a promising career in the museum industry, and maybe, one day, get married to her high school sweetheart and live the American dream for herself. Rafe Cameron however, upon their very first meeting, throws a wrench in her very perfect plan.

tags/warnings:

rafe cameron x fem!oc, rafe is giving very much homewrecker, fanon!rafe (kinda), college!au, friends to lovers, slow-burn (maybe?), minimal oc description, drug and alcohol use, mostly unedited, (these tags are not exhaustive, lmk if i should add anything!)

wc: 2.1k

my master list

series masterlist

requests

January 4th, 2019

B: i'll be at the caf in 10 if you want to grab breakfast before class

Her phone buzzes twice in quick succession as the screen lights up on the table in front of her. She leans over to read it, putting down her coffee mug and rolling her eyes slightly to herself. Grace had already eaten the same thing she always does, being frozen strawberries and whipped cream for breakfast, and is finishing up her first of several cups of coffee for the day when she receives this text from her brother.

g: okay, back table in the corner

She sends her quick reply and goes back to what she was doing, pretending to read her textbook and hoping to absorb at least the key points before her eight am class. So far, this method has worked well for her. Only one semester down so far, but with a 3.91 GPA, Grace is feeling pretty good about her academic career.

Her brother, Ben, on the other hand, got into the same school on a scholarship for soccer, and Grace is pretty positive he's only doing the same degree as her so she can tutor him while he lives in a frat house. Which he very promptly moved into after orientation, leaving Grace on campus alone, and she didn't mind it one bit. Having some space from her brother and her parents for the first time has been amazing.

Grace looks up as her disheveled-looking brother slides into the seat across from her at the table, practically throwing his plate down. She removes her headphones to hear what he's saying. "Huh?" She asks, prompting him to repeat himself.

"I said..." He draws it out, clearly frustrated his sister didn't listen. "You're already reading that? It's only the second class."

"Oh, well yeah, they're assigned readings for a reason." Grace replies, putting in her bookmark and closing the book, shoving it in the bag at her feet before looking back at her twin brother. He looks like he just rolled out of bed, which, of course, he did.

"Right. Give me the summary then, yeah?" He asks through a mouthful of cinnamon and sugar toast.

Grace sighs a little. "So, basically, there's this guy, totally a dick." She begins to explain and Ben nods, but he's already looking down at his phone. "So he shoots this elephant, right, and then someone else shoots him, and then that's how the third world war started."

"Wait, what? Really?" Ben asks, his attention suddenly drawn back to her.

"No. There was no World War III, dumbass." She replied flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Do you even know what this course is about?"

"Not yet but that's why I'm here isn't it?" Ben chuckles, taking another bite of his toast and instantly chasing it down with his orange juice.

Grace cringes a little as she watches that. "Not exactly..." She replies, looking down at her watch. "We have fifteen minutes. We should probably go, we have to get all the way across campus."

Ben nods and shoves the rest of his one piece of toast in his mouth and picks up the other to carry with them while they grab their bags and clean up the table.

No one really knows what it is about the first week of the semester, but Grace, as well as every other girl she's seen so far, has fallen victim to the idea that you need to look put together and organized knowing damn well that by two weeks from now, she'll be showing up in pyjamas. But today, for the time being, she's actually wearing jeans and makeup to class.

They walk across the beautiful campus that overlooks the city from a hill. It's January, but the sun is rising and there's hardly any snow left on the ground, not that there ever was much to begin with at UNC. Grace grips her coffee cup with both hands to try and warm them- it was probably an oversight to leave her gloves back in her dorm.

They make it inside and find their classroom, walking in and looking around, scanning to see open seats. Grace's eye lands on a table with two seats that no one is sitting at, and makes a beeline for it, placing her bag down before realizing her brother isn't at her side anymore.

"Hey, man, how's it going?" She hears as she looks back over her shoulder, seeing her brother grabbing the hand of a boy sitting in the back row. She sighs and sits down as he sits in the back with someone she's assuming he knows from his frat or soccer or something,

"I'm pretty good. Don't know why I took an eight am but here I am I guess." Ben's friend, Rafe, says as Ben takes a seat next to him.

"Honestly, same." Ben laughs slightly, pulling his laptop out of his bag and placing it on the desk.

"Hey, uh..." Rafe starts, leaning closer to his friend and lowering his voice. "Who's that girl you came in with?"

"Why?" Ben asks, taking on a defensive tone as he digs around in his bag, looking for his textbook.

Rafe instantly shakes his head, leaning back in his seat. "Just wondering." He says quickly, looking forward at the long-haired girl sitting a few rows in front of them. "I didn't know you had a girl- I just thought you would have told the team."

"What? I don't." Ben looks up at him to see his friend staring at his sister. "That's just Grace. My sister." He admits, leaning back in his chair as well.

Oh, his sister. Rafe thinks to himself, nodding slightly in response to his friend, that was now watching him, watching his sister. Time to look away. "You have a sister?"

"Uh, yeah, dude."

"You never talk about her," Rafe says, glancing back at her.

"Not much to say I guess." Ben shrugs in response. "Uh, we're twins, I don't know she likes to read apparently. She's a history major, she lives here on campus. I don't know what really there is to add."

"Oh, really? I was thinking of doing history."

Ben laughs. "Dude, as if Ward would ever let you even think about taking anything other than business. Pretty much the only thing you can do with history is write or teach, that's boring as hell."

Rafe sighs, he knows Ben is probably right. "I mean, like, I wouldn't hate that. At least it would be my choice."

"Yeah, I mean, whatever you want man. Why not, right? Being a prof makes bangin money too. People respect you and shit-" Ben rambles on but Rafe isn't really listening. His eyes are trained again on the girl sitting closer to the front of the room, as her hair cascades over her shoulders when she leans forward more, writing something down in a notebook.

"Right?" His thoughts are interrupted.

"Oh, yeah, totally." Rafe nods, completely unaware of what his friend was talking about by now.

"Okay, so we've got some new faces in here today." A man who Rafe assumes to be the prof says, clapping his hands together to get everyone's attention as the room quiets down. "You, in the back there. You missed introductions on Monday, so basically we all shared our names, our majors, and what year we're in if you'd like to share as well."

He's looking dead on at Rafe in the back, and everyone's heads turn to look at him. "I, yeah, sure. I'm Rafe, uh, this is my first year, so I haven't made any big decisions yet, but I'm thinking about majoring in history." He says, making eye contact with Grace and giving her a slight smile.

"Right, yes, Rafe Cameron. You're on the soccer team with Ben here. Your dad is Ward, right?" The prof asks and Rafe nods.

"Yes sir."

"I've met your father, he's a really nice man, hey?" He grins and Rafe nods again slightly in response, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Anyway, let's get started, shall we? Did everyone get the readings done?"

——

Grace gets up at the end of class, placing everything in her bag and her headphones back in, assuming that her brother would take off with his friend.

"Shouldn't we wait for Grace?" Rafe asks Ben as his friend turns to the door.

"Nah, I'll talk to her later." He shrugs in response. "Come on- we've got practice this afternoon and I want to have a nap first."

"Hold on one sec," Rafe replies, holding his hand up at his friend signaling for him to wait, and watching as Grace turns around evidently surprised to see them still standing there looking at her- waiting.

"Oh, hi." She says, removing one of her headphones.

"What did you think of the first real lecture? Did you write down every word?" Ben asks her and she laughs a little.

"No, but I'm glad we're getting into something interesting at least." She replies, avoiding eye contact with his friend, who's watching her intently.

"Hey, uh, I'm Rafe, by the way." He says to her before Ben can get a word in.

Grace looks briefly at her brother, who is staring at Rafe with an indecipherable look on his face. "I'm Grace." She says, looking back at her brother's friend and smiling politely. "You said you want to take history? That's my plan too." She adds, making an effort to move the conversation along so they don't just all stand there staring at each other.

"Yeah, I mean, maybe. My dad wants me to take business because he owns a company and I'll have to take it over eventually and all that crap." Rafe shrugs as the three of them head for the door.

Grace nods at that, shoving her hands in her pockets as they walk out the door and down the hall. "My boyfriend was supposed to take business too, or that was originally his plan in high school. He decided to go into chemical and electrical engineering instead and he's loving it, but I guess it's a bit different than your situation but I still think it's important to do what you want, not what other people want you to do." She shrugs, as Rafe looks at her brother, giving him a 'what the fuck, man?' expression.

Ben raises an eyebrow at him, the silent exchange finished with his confusion, and Rafe quickly continues his conversation with the girl who wasn't watching them, eyes straight ahead as she walked. "Yeah, I guess you're right. My plan right now is to sell it as soon as my name's on it, so my degree won't really matter."

"Yeah, you probably don't need a degree in business for that." She agrees, laughing slightly as she shakes her head.

As the three approach the end of the hall, Rafe takes a few quick steps forward to grab the door, and Ben smiles at him, laughing slightly and patting him on the shoulder as he walks through. "Thanks, bro." He steps outside, leaving Rafe to stare at the girl who took a turn down the hall instead of following them out. 

"Not going back to dorms?" He asks her, making her turn as she continues to walk backward staying with the flow of other students.

"I have a class in C building in ten minutes- this way is much faster. It was nice meeting you!" Grace smiles with a slight wave, popping her headphone back in as she turns around and continues down the hall. Rafe smiles back and raises his hand in a quick wave, sighing as he's stuck holding the door for a few more people before he can follow Ben.

"Dude, you didn't think to tell me she has a boyfriend?" Rafe asks, jogging slightly to catch up with his friend.

"Sorry, didn't think you'd be into my sister. Didn't think it mattered- that's not like, the most important thing about her, you know." Ben scoffs, shaking his head.

"Well, of course not. Would've been nice to know, though." Rafe grumbles, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

"You're not hooking up with my sister. Listen, even if she wasn't dating that loser I wouldn't let you. That's like, fucked up." Ben says sternly. "What would you say if I said I was into Sarah, huh?"

"Dude- gross. She's like, seventeen." Rafe shakes his head, scrunching up his nose at the thought.

"Exactly." Ben agrees. 

"Okay, well, that's different."

"You're digging yourself deeper and deeper man- you've just got to let it go." Ben insists, turning to walk towards his car on the opposite side of the parking lot from where Rafe parked his bike. "I'll see you at home!" He shouts back.

"See ya'," Rafe replies, walking in the opposite direction. He pulls the other side of his backpack over his shoulder, holding tightly onto the straps as he makes his way back to where he parked his bike- completely unaware that he was being watched through an upstairs window in C building by his friend's sister.

ahhh finally part one!! i’ve been working on this one for a hot minute so lmk all your thoughts and everything- i don’t have the whole thing planned out so also if anyone has any requests on where this should go, pls lmk!!

taglist: @madelynie @slut4drudy (message me or reply to this to be added!)

[sephirthoughts]

Vincent Got a Phone

Vincent got a phone and then Aerith adopted him as her friend, and all kinds of other shit started happening and he's very tired.

ships: valenwind, background sefikura, background aerti

rating: not explicit yet but soooooooo close

Chapter 5: Shut the fuck up, Sephiroth!

“Wait, wait! Everyone calm down! He’s not here to fight! I asked him to come!”

This elicited stunned silence from the group, in which the sound of Cerberus’ hammer clicking back rang out very clearly, followed by Vincent’s deep voice.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Of course I’m going to explain,” Cloud said, trying not to stare directly into the triple barrel, that was now trained on him. “Sephiroth and I have been…talking. He wants to turn over a new leaf. He doesn’t want to be our enemy, anymore.”

“What the hell do you mean, he doesn’t want to be our enemy!” Tifa demanded. “Like that’s something he gets to decide?!”

“I know things have been complicated between us and him, in the past. That’s why he has something he’d like to say to everyone. Go ahead, Seph.”

The angelic, silver haired, six-foot seven-inch tall, black leather clad man stepped forward. “I am very…” He glanced discreetly down at a slip of paper concealed in his gloved palm. “Sony.”

“No—sorry!” Cloud whispered, elbowing him in the side. “You’re sorry!”

“Sorry,” Sephiroth corrected.

Tifa stared at him. “You’re…sorry. After everything you’ve done, you’re just fucking sorry?! You killed my father! Cloud, he killed your mother!!”

“Tifa, please, just hear me out,” Cloud said, in a conciliatory tone. “I know better than anyone what he’s done. That’s why you’ve got to trust me. It’s complicated, and I know it’s hard to understand, right now, but it really wasn’t his fault. He’s just as much a victim in all this as we are.”

“Oh, he’s a victim, is he?” she retorted. “Then who the fuck is the culprit!”

“Shinra.” Everyone turned to look, in surprise, because it was the normally reticent Vincent, who had now spoken for a record-breaking third time, in a single conversation. “When Hojo did this to us—made us into monsters—Shinra not only allowed it, they condoned it. They knew he was committing atrocities, and they stood by and watched, just like they always do. Because they will do anything to grasp more power. No matter who they have to destroy, to do it.”

“Exactly,” Cloud nodded. “The rest of you haven’t been in that place. You can’t imagine what it’s like. And what they did to me, doesn’t even compare to the torture they put Vincent and Sephiroth through. That’s why…I’m going with him.”

“Going with him, where?” Aerith asked. “What do you mean?”  

“First, we’re going to make Hojo pay for what he’s done. He’s responsible for destroying countless lives. But at the end of the day, he’s still just a cog in the machine. After we deal with him, we’re going to take Shinra apart, piece by piece, till not a single brick is left standing. I know this is sudden, and probably seems totally out of the blue, so I don’t expect anyone to help us. But…if any of you want to come with us, I’d be grateful for it.”

Vincent lowered his arm and holstered Cerberus. “I am willing put aside past grievances and cooperate with you, for now. Shinra owes us a debt of blood. I will see it repaid.”

“Well, shit. If Vinnie’s in I’m in,” Cid sighed. “If you’re lookin to take down Shinra, y’all are gonna need a ride.”

“Thank you, guys,” Cloud said. “I knew I could count on you.”

Sephiroth dipped his chin, to Vincent. “Thank you, father.”

Vincent silently returned the salutation.

“Father??!!” exclaimed everyone else except Aerith, who said, “Ohhh. I totally see it.”

“Uh…Vinnie?” Cid asked, uneasily. “Why’s Sephiroth callin’ you father?”

“Because he’s my son,” Vincent replied flatly, still looking across the table at Sephiroth. “But I didn’t know he knew that.”

Yuffie made a face. “So you…with his mother?”

“No. They used my genetic material, without my knowledge. Sephiroth was told his parents were dead. He was raised in a lab, like a specimen. Systematically isolated and tortured, brainwashed into a living weapon, and set loose to commit war crimes, at the age of fourteen. When he learned the truth about his origins, he had a psychotic break, and under the influence of Jenova, defaulted to the only thing he’d ever known: violence.” Vincent turned his crimson eyes on Tifa, one flashing with a hint of gold. “Given that context, Ms. Lockhart, would it not be fair to say that perhaps, he is not entirely culpable for what he has done?”

Tifa lowered her head, biting her lip in anger and frustration, and Yuffie wrapped comforting arms around her.

“Look, I don’t expect anyone to process all of this, instantly,” Cloud spoke up. “I know it’ll take time to accept. But I asked you all here tonight, because I didn’t want to keep hiding this part of my life from the people I care most about.” He slipped his hand into Sephiroth’s and they interlaced their fingers. “I’m not asking for your blessing, but it’s important to me that you all know where I stand. Because Sephiroth and I are—uh. We’re…together.”

“Oh, ho ho!” Aerith chortled, whipping out her phone to type something on it.

“Ah-ha! That’s why I seen ya goin’ into that love hotel!” Cid asserted, swaying in his tipsy vehemence, but finding himself immediately steadied by a gauntleted hand on the small of his back. “You two musta been meetin’ up, on the sly!”

Cloud looked his way, unhappily. “You were spying on us, Cid?”

“Tch. Hell naw. I don’t have time for that shit. I was mindin’ my own business and I saw ya standin’ right there on the street, out fronta the place. Y’ain’t exactly easy to miss.”

“Tell me one thing,” Vincent said sternly (with his arm still around Cid’s waist). “That night at the Mega Karaoke. You didn’t fall into the door, at all, did you?”

Cloud laughed sheepishly. “Uh. About that. We thought that was our room. Seph was being kind of…playful and pushed me inside. When he saw you guys he poofed, so you didn’t see him.”

“Wow, you two were in such a hurry to get down, that you mixed up the rooms?” Aerith smirked.

“It’s not like it was our fault! That karaoke place should be prosecuted, what kind of assholes have a room 8B and a room B8? What is your numbering system, even?”

“Well, damn,” Yuffie remarked, raising her eyebrows. “Cloud really recruited a world-class supervillain for team good-guys, just like that. How good is that bussy?”

“How good is what?” Vincent asked, looking alarmed.

Aerith giggled gleefully and kept tapping her phone screen.

Tifa was still glaring at Sephiroth, who didn’t appear to notice, likely because his serpentine eyes hardly ever left Cloud.

Cid was rubbing his stubble, thoughtfully. “Does this mean Cloud’s gotta call Vinnie father-in-law now?”

“Never,” Cloud said.

“Please do not,” Vincent said at the exact same time.

“This is fucked!” Tifa shouted, giving everyone a second jolt. “You’re fucking mentally ill, Cloud! This guy is a mass-murderer!”

“Why are you acting so shocked about it?” Cloud asked, frowning. “You’re the one who said you already knew all about us.”

Tifa faltered, taken aback. “I what?”

“That day I ran into you and Yuffie, hiding behind the flower cart. Don’t you remember? You pretended it was a hypothetical, but you said your friend was dating someone who was bad for them and might get hurt. You told me you saw us together, and everything.”

“I wasn’t talking about you!” Tifa said, practically beside herself with exasperation. “I was talking about Aeri and Mr. Valentine!”

Aerith looked up from her phone, wide-eyed. “Eh? Who and who??”

“There’s no use pretending anymore, Aeri!” Yuffie said, pointing a righteous finger at her. “We saw you with Mr. Valentine at the Mega Karaoke.”

“Uh…huh,” Aerith replied drily. “Well, to be fair, you actually saw me with Cloud and Vincent.”

“I saw you and my father alone, together,” Sephiroth interjected. “You were embracing one another.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sephiroth! This doesn’t concern you!” Tifa fired back.

“Yeah, and stop calling Vincent your father, it’s weird,” Yuffie poked her head out to add, then ducked back behind Tifa.

Vincent, meanwhile, had withdrawn his arm from around Cid, and was standing there looking stricken. “You…you all thought that Aerith and I were…together? Cid? You too?”

Cid scratched his head. “Uh. Well, ain’t ya?”

“I confessed my feelings to you, three nights ago,” Vincent said, lowering his voice. “Do you believe I’d have done such a thing, if I were attached to another person? What kind of man do you think I am?”

Now it was Cid’s turn to look gobsmacked. “Y’did what, now?”

“I told you how I feel.”

“Well…yeah. About Ms. Aerith. Didn’t ya?”

“About you! You rejected me. You told me you’d support me but you needed time. You seemed upset and you left rather abruptly.”

“That’s cause I thought you were talkin’ about bein’ soul mates with that little girl!” Cid said, throwing his hands up in vexation. “No offense, Ms. Aerith.”

“Well, offense taken! A lot of offense taken!” Aerith returned, planting her hands on her hips. “You all thought Vincent and I had something romantic going on? And no one even bothered to ask us about it??” She turned her flashing green eyes on Tifa and Yuffie, who flinched visibly. “And I bet it’s all because you two troublemakers started meddling, and confused everyone.”

“In our defense, it was all Tifa’s idea,” Yuffie declared. “She bullied me and made me go along with her crazy scheme.”

Tifa looked theatrically offended. “What?! You shitty brat, I barely bullied you at all!”

“So, thanks to you two and your little witch hunt, Cid and Vincent think they’ve been rejected by each other,” Aerith continued. “And along the way, you managed to scare Cloud into coming clean about his actual secret affair, so now we all have to sit here, watching him be lovey-dovey with mommy-issues mcdoomsday, right in front of our salads! No offense, Sephiroth.”

“None taken,” the heretofore extremely volatile superhuman replied, causing everyone to turn and look at him in disbelief. He straightened up and crossed his arms on his impressive chest. “I thought it was funny. Also, a fairly accurate characterization.”

“Aeri, um…about the Mr. Valentine thing,” Tifa ventured. “We didn’t just pull that out of thin air. You two have been in each other’s rooms a lot, lately.”

“And going out together in public a lot, too,” Yuffie concurred.

“And, again, I did see you embracing in the karaoke room,” Sephiroth put in helpfully.

“Shut! Up!” several people said to him, in unison.

“Yes. I admit it. I was hugging my friend. Fucking sue me!” Aerith retorted, growing surprisingly heated, to the point where her eyes began to glisten and turn pink at the rims. “Girls who are just friends can hang all over each other, all day long, but people suddenly become such puritans, when it’s a man and woman! And just for your information, Ti-chan, you should be more concerned about me going into your room, than Vincent’s! Because I AM A LESBIAN!”

With that, Aerith kicked a chair out of her way and stormed off.

“I’ll…go talk to her,” Tifa said, and hurried after her friend.

“I think we, as a group, need to work on our communication,” Cait Sith said sagely, from the chair beside Cid’s.

“Gah!!” Cid yelped. “What the—where the hell’d you come from?!”

“I’ve been here the entire time,” the feline automaton said, sounding wounded. “The rest of you noticed me, didn’t you?”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, in which everyone (except Sephiroth) suddenly developed an engrossing interest in the carpet or the ceiling tiles. It was into this bewildering atmosphere that the waitress descended, like a suspenders and bow-tie clad angel of mercy, with her notebook and a jaunty smile. “So, how are we all feeling about entrees, this evening?”

Thus it happened that our motely assortment of weirdos (minus Aerith and Tifa) sat down to an awkward, but relatively congenial supper, with the man who’d been the primary antagonist in most of their lives, for the past several years, at least.

If they had any suspicions, however, regarding their erstwhile arch-enemy’s real motives, they were at least somewhat allayed by the disgustingly adoring way he focused on Cloud, as if the young man were his sun and moon, and he could see nothing else.

Cid and Vincent, meanwhile, mostly drank in silence (whiskey based cocktails and red wine, respectively), because whenever they did speak, they kept bumbling and being over-polite to one another, in their mutual discomfiture. Pretty much everyone was relieved when dinner was over. Except Sephiroth and the cat, who seemed entirely immune to embarrassment.

“So, Sephiroth,” Yuffie said, eyeing the monumental man cagily, as the party strolled out of the restaurant. “Are you still, like, batshit insane?”

“Yes,” Sephiroth replied. “But I am…working on that.”

“Are you planning on killing any of us?”

“No.”

“Bearing in mind that destroying the world counts as killing us.”

“I have given up global genocide,” Sephiroth said, glancing at Cloud. “My lover is rather attached to this world, as it turns out.”

“Welp, good enough for me. As long as I never have to hear you say the word lover again, welcome to the team,” she pronounced. “With you on our side, we can totally rail Rufus Shinra’s ass!”

“Seriously, work on your phrasing, Yuff,” Cloud groaned. “It’s getting ridiculous.”

“Huh? What did I say? Cloud! Get back here!!”

“So, uh. We probably oughta talk,” Cid said to Vincent, after they separated from the others.

“I suppose we should,” Vincent agreed, casting a sidelong glance at him. “Shall we go to the hotel garden?”

“Or we could, uh…we could go to my room,” Cid mumbled. “Y’know. Have a cup of coffee, or whatever.”

Vincent paused, scrutinizing him closely. “Are you still drunk?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Cid admitted, flushing pink, under his crimson gaze. “That’s the only reason I got the balls to be talkin’ to ya, right now.”

Vincent arched a black eyebrow. “I trust you are aware what asking a gentleman back to your room for coffee implies.”

“Tch. We’ve shared rooms about a hundred times, Vinnie. Am I supposed to be worried you’ll think I’m a slut?”

Vincent’s crimson eyes glowed a little more intensely, but he looked away quickly, to conceal it. “Coffee it is, then.”

They were already at the walkway intersection, between their two rooms, so Cid led the way, as casually as he could pretend to be—which was to say, not very. Vincent was always just his buddy Vinnie, to him. He fit in the Vinnie category and did Vinnie things, and that’s how it was.

Now that he was looking at his friend from a different perspective, he was suddenly, keenly aware of Vincent as a whole entity, outside their friendship. As it turned out, Vincent Valentine was an extremely intimidating man.

Before he became an actual monster, Vincent had already been a highly trained killing machine. Underlying his general aura of somnolent malaise, Cid was aware of the cold calculation and hyper-competence of the Turk.

Physically, he was a superior specimen. Tall and slender, but agile and astonishingly fast. Despite his ostensible indifference, and tendency to fall asleep standing up, Vincent’s whole being was suffused with quiet ferocity. Cid had seen the man snap out of his apparent ruminant state into decisive and deadly action, enough times to know that Vincent’s languor was a predator’s grace. Like a panther in repose.

And all of that was before one took into account the literal demon under his skin, looking out from that gold ring in his crimson eye, awaiting its moment to burst loose its bonds and drown the world in darkness (which idea Cid found a lot sexier than he probably should have).

His hands shook with nervousness as he unlocked the door, so much that he fumbled and almost dropped the key. But miraculously, he managed to recover, and they got into the room without him making any more excessively embarrassing blunders.

Cid’s room had a sort of steam-punk aesthetic, somewhat like the inside of an airship. It featured exposed brass pipes and other unnecessary but interesting embellishments, and the bedframe had been constructed from the actual fuselage of an old plane.

It had those awful, modern, overhead lights, too, but at the moment, it was lit only by the two lantern-style gas lamps on the wall, on either side of the headboard, so the illumination was warm and diffuse, and not troublesome to Vincent’s eyes.

Vincent took a seat on the distressed leather sofa, in front of the steamer trunk, that served as a coffee table, while Cid set about brewing a packet of hotel-provided coffee in the almost laughably small hotel-provided pot.

“So, uh. About the other night,” Cid began, after he’d placed their mugs on the steamer trunk, and sat down beside Vincent. “I said it already, but I’m sorry for actin’ like a jackass. I misunderstood about as bad as it’s possible to.”

“It was an understandable error, given that there were outside parties interfering,” Vincent replied charitably, blowing the steam off his mug.

Cid shook his head. “It’d be easy to say I had everything all wrong on account of them girls tellin’ me a whole lotta nonsense, but that’s a cop-out. There ain’t no changin’ the fact I made assumptions and didn’t ask ya myself. It’s my own fault. Also, I didn’t know you were…I mean. I never thought to ask, and you never told me. About the, uh. The umbrella.”

“No more umbrellas, please,” Vincent said, with a grimace. “Euphemizing and speaking obliquely is what caused all of this mess, in the first place.” He set his mug back down and looked Cid in the eye. “Cid…I like you. I like you in a romantic, non-platonic way. I’ve never felt this way about a man, and I have no idea how to label or define it. I only know that it is. And it is not a short-lived infatuation, or the impulse of a moment. I have felt this way for quite some time.”

“So…when ya said all that stuff about a person bein’ the missin’ part of ya, and how y’could spend every day with ‘em and never get tired of ‘em…”

“I was talking about you.”

Blood roared in Cid’s ears. He felt his heart pounding and his throat was suddenly dry. He’d thought what Vincent said had sounded a little dramatic and overwrought, the other night, but it struck the ear very differently, now he knew it was about himself. He yanked his goggles off his forehead and tossed them on the trunk-table, then pushed his hands back through his hair.

“You seem troubled by the idea,” Vincent said quietly, from where he’d receded into his cloak, concealing all of his face inside his high collar, except for his scarlet eyes.

Cid scratched his head. “I just…uh. Hoo, boy. I can’t help thinkin’ there’s still some kinda mixup. Y’sure ya like me? Like, wouldn’t you be happier with some fella your own age?”

“Ah. You did mention the age difference as an obstacle, before.”

“I ain’t sayin’ a obstacle per se,” Cid attempted. “I’m just thinkin’ about a few years from now, when you’re a little older. Y’might change your mind about what ya want, and start havin’ regrets.”

Vincent’s black brows knit in confusion. “When I’m older?”

“Well, cause like, I’m in my late thirties. That’s the settlin’ down with a long-term partner phase of life, y’know? You’ll understand once you get to be my age.”

“Cid. I’m fifty-seven.”

“Right, like I was sayin’, when you—” Cid blinked. “Ah…ha ha. I think I’m goin’ deaf, you said twenty-seven, right?”

“I said fifty-seven.”

“What the high-flyin’ fuck you mean fifty-seven?!” Cid sputtered, gesturing wildly with his coffee and nearly splashing it all over himself.

“I mean I’m fifty-seven years old.” Vincent tilted his head questioningly. “You do understand that Sephiroth is in his thirties, correct? And that he is my biological son?”

“Listen, I’m gonna be honest…I figured they grew him up super fast in one of those pods, like in the movies.”

“No, he grew up at the usual speed. Which does mean that I have a son who is nearly your age. The idea of age differences seems to bother you, quite a bit.”

“Oh, that?” Cid waved his hand dismissively. “Nah, I was talkin’ about kids in their twenties, all fresh-faced and dumb as shit, just startin’ out in the world. Who gives a fuck about a couple decades, between old-ass men like us?”

Vincent very nearly smiled. “You only call yourself old because you enjoy thinking of yourself that way. Whereas, I am quite literally an old man.”

“Come on, Vinnie,” Cid chuckled. “Ya can’t say you’re an old man, with that face, and expect me to take ya seriously.”

“Then…you like my face?” Vincent asked pointedly.

“Tch. You kiddin’ me? You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous I can’t believe you’re real, sometimes,” Cid said staunchly, then realized he’d revealed more than he intended, and became shy (and suddenly understood the appeal of having a cloak to hide in).

Vincent scooted closer, his leather armor squeaking against the leather on the couch. Eyes like scarlet embers glowed in the dim light of the gas lamps, regarding Cid with bloodthirsty intent.

Cid rubbed his hands together and chuckled nervously. “You’re…ha ha. You’re lookin’ at me like a hungry wolf, Vinnie.”

“Cid,” Vincent’s deep voice said softly. “I’m going to kiss you.”

Cid swallowed hard. “O—ok.”

He felt the cold claws of a metal gauntlet, as Vincent’s fingertips rested lightly on his cheek, turning his head. Vincent leaned in closer. So close his black hair brushed against Cid’s forehead. He paused. There was a bit of muffled jingling, as he awkwardly unbuckled his high collar. Then lips softer than any woman’s could’ve ever been were pressed against Cid’s.

Whatever he’d thought it would be like, to be kissed by a man—and his best friend, at that—all his preconceived notions were blown right out the window, when those lips pushed his apart, and Vincent’s tongue slid forward to caress his.

Sage-smoke and leather, and a hint of old books. That’s what he smelled like. He tasted like whatever heaven’s made out of. His tongue was domineering and devastatingly skilled, licking and thrusting and rolling over Cid’s, till he was clinging helplessly to Vincent and gasping for breath, between intense barrages.

He felt more like a chaste woman being ravished by a pirate captain in a romance novel, than he’d have liked to admit, but it felt so fucking good. How come no one ever told him how amazing it was to be on the receiving end of a man’s unrestrained desire?

It occurred to him then, that he could touch Vincent, too. Not that he hadn’t wanted to, it was just that, to lay entirely unworthy mortal hands on this divinity seemed almost blasphemous, so he hadn’t yet worked up the courage.

Steeling himself, he slipped a hand around Vincent’s narrow waist and kneaded the small of his back. To his utter astonishment, Vincent threw a knee over and straddled him, settling his weight on his lap, decisively closing any remaining space between their bodies.

Emboldened by this spectacular result, Cid worked his fingers into Vincent’s heavy, silky hair and tugged gently. Vincent moaned into the kiss and let his head move easily, at Cid’s direction.

Cid’s brain short-circuited, unable to process a reality in which Vincent might like to have his hair pulled. He tried again, a little harder, and was rewarded a breathy gasp, along with feeling that lithe body shudder against his.

The tables turned, then, and Cid was the aggressor, holding Vincent by his hair, invading his mouth, licking and sucking his perfect, pale lips, kissing him like the world was ending.

At long last, Vincent broke the kiss, leaving Cid overheated and dizzy—and so hard he could barely think. A clear thread of saliva stretched out between their lips and snapped, as they drew back, just enough to look at one another.

Vincent’s long, almond-shaped eyes were hazy and heavy-lidded, and his crimson irises were glowing, nearly all gold. His parted lips were wet and swollen, and very slightly flushed. The tip of his tongue traced over his elongated fangs.

“Ha…holy fuck, you’re beautiful,” Cid panted, sliding his hands up onto Vincent’s hips. “The hell you doin’ fuckin’ around with a scruffy bastard like me?”

“Beautiful,” Vincent murmured. Then he stiffened, staring into the middle-distance. The golden embers in his eyes dimmed and darkened. Seeming disoriented, he pushed himself up from Cid’s lap and stumbled back a step, nearly tripping over the steamer trunk, and upsetting a mug of coffee, in the process.

“Vinnie? What’s wrong?” Cid asked, confused and alarmed by this abrupt reversal.

“I—I can’t,” he said hoarsely. His eyes darted around manically, but didn’t seem to focus on anything. “It’s not your fault. I thought I could, but…I just can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Wait, wait, Vinnie hang on,” Cid said hastily, jumping up to stop him. “Don’t run off, let’s talk—”

It was too late. Vincent had already dispersed into a whirl of crimson and vanished.

“—about it.” Cid gave a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God…fuckin’ damn it.”

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY cat cameo!

one more chapter to go!!!!!!!!! will our intrepid heroes resolve their problems and go to pound town???? (yes they will)

link to prev. chapter