#and i’m just gonna need a little patience and love to help me calm down again and feel safe

[starbuck]

OH MY GOD I THINK I’M HAVING A TRAUMA RESPONSE

[luveline]

kbd —Steve helps an emotional you downstairs to sate some late night cravings. pregnant!reader, 1.3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Steve stirs at the top of the bed to the sound of pinging springs. He rubs his eye, feels sleep free itself from his lashes as he pushes onto an elbow. 

“Honey?” he asks. 

You turn to him with a frown. “Sorry.” 

Steve doesn’t want you to be sorry, he was just figuring out which of his best girls it was moving around. He forces himself to sit up and turn on the lamp, unveiling the sight of you at the end of the bed in your maternity pyjamas, flowy blue fabric with white polka dots you’d bought to match Beth’s. 

“You need help?” he asks. 

You sound like you’re having a hard time breathing. “I’m trying to put my socks on.” 

“Yeah? You wanna go downstairs?” 

You always put your socks on before you go downstairs at night or in the early morning. The floors get cold no matter what you and he try to do to prevent it. He promises one day you’ll have enough money for heated floors. He’s not sure where he thinks that money is coming from. 

“I’m gonna go have some ice cream.” 

Your night time cravings lately are unstoppable. Steve pushes the sheets back and round the bed to the end, giving your face a short touch, and then getting down on his knees in front of you with his hands held out for your socks. He’d offer to go get it for you, but you’ll say no, he’s too tired. The only loophole he’s found for this is coming with you. 

You give him your socks and a sorry smile. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. You know what I say.” 

“Can’t sleep without me.” 

He bunches your sock up and rolls it over your toes and up past your heel, your ankle. He does it gently like he’s rolling them onto one of the kids’ feet, he can’t really help himself. He likes being gentle with you. You can’t see your toes, so you might as well have him be kind to them. 

“Can’t sleep without you,” he agrees, again bunching up the fabric of your sock to roll over your toes and heel. 

He tugs it up straight on your calf and leaves his hand there for a selfish squeeze. “There, now you’re ready. Want your robe too?” 

You frown suddenly, a familiar twist of your mouth and nose, eyebrows pinching down as your eyes fill with tears. He shakes his head at you before you can talk, his hand moving to your knee for sympathetic rubbing. “Don’t cry.” 

“You’re so nice to me.” 

“I love you,” he says, pushing himself up to stand and hug you. “Please don’t cry, Y/N, it’s just socks. I love putting your socks on for you.” 

“You treat me like a princess,” you say with a sniff. 

“You deserve it,” he promises. He wraps his arms around your head and neck, kissing your forehead with a loving sigh. “You do. Please don’t cry.” 

Once you start you can’t stop. Steve doesn’t mind calming you down, it’s not like it isn’t exactly what he signed up for, but getting upset is never good for the baby or your extremely stressed body. “Please,” he murmurs, “let’s go downstairs, okay?” 

“Okay,” you say, voice thick with tears. 

Steve wraps you in a blanket and ushers you through the master bedroom door. Your pregnancy hormones are as off the charts as they’ve ever been, though last month you’d been quite snappy. This week you’re crying multiple times a day every day. Steve keeps waiting to run out of patience, but he has a good few kids, and you’re not doing anything wrong anyways. So what if you’re crying all the time? He can’t imagine how stressful it is to be that tired and heavy like this, or how many hormones are pumping through you at the moment. He got you pregnant. It’s his job to mitigate the symptoms to the best of his ability. 

You sit down at the table, knowing without asking that he’s going to get your ice cream. He grabs it from the freezer with your favourite spoon (not so big, not so little), and passes you both with a smile. 

“There, honey.” 

Before he met you, Steve wasn’t used to pet names. He’d say baby and babe, he was a player, then heartbroken, and they’d come out weird because he didn’t really mean them, or he didn’t get what they meant in the first place. He calls you honey and he feels at once like the husband he is but it’s more than that. You’re his honey. You deserve to know how much you mean to him with every sentence he says, and there’s no easier way to do that than to pester you with pet names. 

You use them just as much as he does. “Thanks, handsome.” 

“Do you want anything else?” 

Again, your frown, tears in your eyes as you peel the lid off of pint and pick up your spoon. “I’m fine,” you say tearily. 

Steve scoots a chair as close to yours as is physically possible and sits, his hand falling to your knee. He’d squeeze your thigh if it wasn’t impeded by the round hill of your bump, the biggest it’s ever been. From the start of next week onward you can expect to go into labour. Within the month, you’ll have had the baby. 

Steve can’t wait for it, and he’ll bet you can’t wait to be done. He says your name softly, giving the side of your leg a great massage, “Y/N, it’s okay.” 

“I know, I just love you,” you say through a mouthful of ice cream, the spoon still on your lips. 

“I love you too, honey, don’t worry about it.” 

“Do you want some?” 

He knows saying no won’t help. It’s probably four in the morning and he can’t imagine anything less appetising at the late hour, but he says, “Yeah. Just a little bit. I’m watching my figure.” 

You laugh, still full of tears, and scoop up some ice cream to feed him. When he’s had it, he presses forward for a kiss, to your delight. Steve doesn’t mean to brag, but he knows you well. Cheering you up is easy. He steals a second kiss just for him and beams at the reaction it invokes, breathless laughter that doesn’t fade as you scoop up another spoonful of ice cream. 

“How come the baby never wants something we can keep in the bedroom?” Steve asks. 

“She’s like her sisters.” 

“Yes she is,” Steve says, moving in for another squeeze of your leg. “Can’t wait to meet her.” 

You lean your head on his shoulder, ice cream dripping from your spoon. “She can’t wait to meet you, Steve. She’s kicking every time she hears your voice. I think she knows how good you are to me.” You clear your throat. “She can tell you’re the nicest guy ever.” 

He shushes you tenderly. “Come on, honey, no more crying. I’ll have to start being mean to you instead, nobody wants that, I don’t want that.” 

“Please don’t be mean to me.” 

Your hurt voice startles him. “I’m just kidding.” He kisses your temple. “You think I’d do that? I can’t do that to you, babe, I don’t want to.” 

He spends twenty minutes convincing you he was just kidding while you weep into his shoulder. 

Poor girl, he thinks sorrily.

[skywalkerslvt]

in my professional opinion, i think sam is like such a bratty bitch like cmon man i know he got mad backtalk, but i also need to hear my other professionals opinion, over to you 🎤

a/n: 🎤 thank you zapernz. in my professional opinion, he needs the brattiness edged out of him. (btw i love getting asks from u theyre so fun to write)

CW: sexual content, bratty sub sam monroe, dom reader, orgasm denial, 763 words

Sam Monroe would push every button you had, fully aware of the consequences. He’d start with small jabs—smirking as he leaned lazily against the wall, arms crossed, the picture of defiance. “What’s the matter? You look tense. Rough day? Maybe I can help,” he’d say, his voice dripping with sarcasm, his eyes daring you to react.

As the day wore on, the pokes turned into full-on backtalk. Snide comments, smug little grins, and pointed remarks that had your patience fraying by the minute. And when you finally grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the bedroom, his cocky smirk only widened.

“Oh, is this my punishment? I’m so scared,” he’d sneer, even as you shoved him onto the bed. “What’re you gonna do? Lecture me? Please, this is cute.”

Your calm demeanour as you crawled onto the bed, straddling his hips, seemed to throw him off for just a moment—but not enough to stop the snark. His words faltered as your hands trailed down his chest, slipping beneath his shirt. “Still mouthing off?” you’d ask, voice low and dangerous.

“What, you’re gonna keep asking questions or—ahh—” His voice caught as you rolled your hips against his, grinding just enough to make his breath hitch.

“Finish that sentence,” you whispered, your tone razor-sharp. He squirmed, his bravado faltering for a split second before he plastered that cocky smirk back on his face.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted, but his breath hitched again when your hand slid lower, palming him over his jeans. You could feel him hardening beneath your touch, and his attempts to maintain control were laughably transparent.

“Still talking,” you murmured, your fingers deftly unbuttoning his jeans, sliding them down his hips. He lifted them just enough to help you, but the moment you leaned back to rake your eyes over him, he was back at it.

“Gonna take all day, or—fuck—” His taunt dissolved into a sharp gasp as your fingers brushed over him, light and teasing, through the thin fabric of his boxers.

You leaned close, your lips just grazing his ear. “What was that? Didn’t quite catch it.” Your hand moved slowly, torturously, up and down, the friction just enough to make his hips jerk.

“J-just saying you’re taking your sweet—shit—time,” he managed, though his voice was trembling now, his cock straining against the fabric as you continued your maddeningly slow pace.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got all the time in the world,” you replied, your tone dripping with mock sweetness as you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down with deliberate slowness. His breath caught, his hips lifting instinctively to help you, but his mouth was still running.

“This supposed to scare me?” he muttered, though his voice was weaker now, his cock twitching under your gaze as you wrapped your hand around him.

Your grip tightened slightly, just enough to make him gasp, and you started stroking him in slow, deliberate motions. His cocky remarks faltered as you leaned in, your lips brushing against his jaw. “You were saying?”

For a moment, he looked like he might try another retort—but then you slowed your movements even more, your thumb brushing over his tip in a way that made his entire body tense. His head fell back against the pillow, a shaky moan escaping him, and for the first time, he seemed to realize what you were doing.

“Wait—don’t stop,” he said, his voice breaking into a whine as you pulled back slightly, your hand stilling completely.

“Oh, so now you’re asking nicely?” you teased, your tone light but cutting as you hovered over him. “What happened to all that attitude, Sam? No more smart remarks?”

He let out a desperate little whimper, his hips jerking up as if chasing your hand. “Please,” he whispered, his voice shaky now, his cock twitching against nothing as you kept him on the edge.

You smirked, brushing your lips against his ear. “What’s that? No backtalk now? That’s what I thought.”

He groaned, his hands gripping the sheets as he tried to hold back the wave of frustration and need threatening to overwhelm him. “Please,” he begged again, his voice barely more than a whisper, and you couldn’t help but grin, savoring the sight of him completely undone beneath you.

“Next time,” you murmured, your hand brushing over his cheek before pulling back entirely, leaving him gasping and trembling on the bed, “maybe you’ll think twice before mouthing off to me. Or maybe you won’t. Either way, I’m going to have fun.”

[princessbrunette]

I LOVE THAT YOU GIVE POPE LOVE BC LIKE NO ONE DOSE LIKE POPE IS SEXY AND ITS BEEN LIKE HEAVANS SINGING FROM ABOVE WITH THAT BLURD YOU WROTE WITH POPE

i just FEIN to see pope actually punnunish Bratty!reader

this is sending meeee 😭

₊˚⊹♡𐙚♡𓆪ֶָ֢

you’d been mouthing off, and usually pope was chill enough to just calm you down by distracting you. but he was tired after the previous night with the pogues, and he just wanted a day with his girl without her acting up. his patience wore thin as he leans his thick biceps infront of him, elbows on his knees as he sits on his bed, staring at you with low hung brown eyes.

“i don’t wanna do this today. quit with the attitude.” his voice is still calm and smooth despite everything. but just like an itch that needed to be scratched, you kept pushing.

“boooooo, so boring today popey.” you jeer, making him blink at you slowly. what had happened to his sweet girl? he wasn’t sure, but he knew he needed her back. asap.

he sighs out his nose before jutting his head to the corner of the room. “go stand in the corner.” he puts it simply and you grin, amused.

“what?” you ask, flukily quietening your voice just a touch.

“you heard me. you wanna act like a kid, i’m going to treat you like a kid. corner, go.” he commands and the smile melts off your face, staring for a few more seconds to make sure he was serious before you slide off the bed opposite him, walking over to the corner as he watches. you peer over your shoulder, brows all furrowed now. “keep your eyes on the wall.”

you turn back around, staring at the mathlete poster from his nerdier days in high school. you want to smile, giggle even — and make a joke at his expense, but pope really wasn’t one to punish you — so your heart was racing at this new approach.

you hear the bed creak as he climbs off, slow footsteps approaching you from behind. his shadow looms over you, and you suck in a quiet gasp when his big warm hands grace your waist. “you know i’m not with this back-talk shit. i used to let you get away with it, just because i love you. and i still do, but you’ve pushed your luck today, baby.” his voice is warm, and you find yourself melting beneath his touch. it took a minute for you to even realise he’d unpopped your button, sliding your denim skirt down along with your panties until they pool at your ankles.

“gonna need you to count. can you do that?”

you try to answer, but it comes out as a nervous shaky breath instead. “use your words.”

“yeah.”

“thats a good girl. knew you were in there. unfortunately for you, its too late. i’m still going to spank you, okay?” he communicates clearly, kindly, even gentle with you at his most irritated. you’re teary eyed, all tense as you wait for the blow. he smooths a hand over your ass cheek, getting you used to the temperate of his palm before bringing it down in a smack. you jolt with a whimper, before calling out a quiet ‘one’.

“nice. we’re gonna keep going.”

he continues to spank you, but with each spank, it gets harder — the time between each hit getting shorter until he’s got his hand on your shoulder to hold you still, delivering quick, hard slap after slap to your ass cheeks until they were raw. he lets out little minuscule grunts with each spank, and whilst you wept — in immense pain, you can’t help but shift your thighs, arousal clinging to the skin between them.

luckily for you, pope is a softie at heart— and once he’s punished you, he’s gonna make it all better and eat that cunt until you’re seeing stars, vowing to never back-chat such an angel again.

₊˚⊹♡𐙚♡𓆪ֶָ֢

[theemporium]

Sorry didn't know it was for fluff whoops wasn't paying attention! Okay try this again properly!

Werewolf Charles or Max and it's the full moon and he just wants to cuddle you because you keep him calm or maybe even both

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

The days approaching a full moon were always a little different from the rest of the month.

Sometimes it made your boys angstier than usual. Their tempers would be shorter, their patience was practically nonexistent and they snapped at anything or anyone that irked them even a little bit. Max was usually the worst one of the two, but they were both bad.

Sometimes they were just all over you. The days approaching the full moon would be relentless. You would always have one of them pressed up against you, kissing you, touching you. And when they had you squished between them, it honestly felt like time stopped.

But sometimes, your boys were just needy. Sometimes the days approaching the full moon were rough and stressful. Their anxiety would be through the roof, even if it was something they had done for years. Sometimes, they just needed to be close to you.

“I love you both endlessly but, dear god, I forgot how fucking warm you both are.” 

You were two days out and you could feel the nerves radiating over the both of them. It didn’t help that all they could feel was the anxiety bouncing off each other. And you could tell from the second you stepped through the door after work that they needed you. 

Which led to you being snuggled between two very hot, very clingy werewolves who had no plans of letting you move at all.

“It’s fine, you like it,” Max murmured, his head buried against your stomach as his nose brushed against the slip of skin where your vest rode up. 

“Why couldn’t one of you be hot and the other cold,” you mumbled, a small groan of appreciation leaving Charles’ lips as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Saves me sweating my tits off here.”

“We told you to take your clothes off,” Charles murmured against your skin, his lips brushing against your neck as he placed a soft kiss at the base, like his own little apology for not pulling away.

“Just because you both run around the house naked, doesn’t mean I’m gonna join in,” you said with a soft snort, your eyes vaguely focused on the random movie playing on the tv. 

“I don’t see the issue in it,” Max retorted. “It’s very freeing.”

“Not all of us have a nice lovely fur coat to keep us warm,” you countered, glancing down at the boy who only flashed you a smile. 

“That’s where we come in, schat,” Max said like it was obvious. “We would keep you warm.”

“Too fucking warm,” you murmured, but both boys just tightened their arms around you. “You’re lucky you are both cute.”

Charles lifted his head from your neck, wide eyes staring at you with curiosity. “Do you mean as our human selves or our wolf selves?”

Your lips twitched upwards before you leaned in to peck his lips. “Both, baby, both.”

“Hey,” Max whined, lightly nipping your tummy with his teeth. “If he gets one, I get one.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing a little as you leaned down to press a soft, chaste kiss on his lips too. “My needy boys.”

“You love us,” Max whispered against your lips.

You pulled back grinning. “Yeah, I do.”

.

[ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult]

Unpredictable, Part 9-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic

A/N: I'm finally updating! Thanks for your patience. Also, I didn't fully rewatch the episode so there will be some differences. Let me know if you wanted to be added to the taglist. Also, if you were on the taglist and aren't on it for this post, it just means when I typed your username, it didn't pop up. Enjoy!

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings: Swearing, sensuality, some angst, and general reader! insecurities about relationships

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @badbishsblog, @gardenof-venus, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog , @darksoul100, @simiinthemirror

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the blood around my mouth. The coppery taste made my stomach lurch as I sat up and touched my mouth.

At least it was dried blood.

The second thing I noticed was the dejected expression on Cate’s face as she sat up on the couch across from me. She stared down at the ground, but she wasn’t looking at anything. For a second, I started to reach a hand towards her but stopped when I remembered what she’d done.

Just as I set my hand back in my lap, Marie and Jordan jerked awake, making me flinch in the process. It wasn’t until I settled a little that I noticed they were flanking me, and I looked down at my lap to hide my wide smile and warm cheeks.

“Is this real?” Marie asked.

“Yes, this is real,” Cate confirmed.

Immediately, Jordan jumped to his feet and shifted to their female form. They grinned so widely at the result that their dimples showed and Marie visibly relaxed next to me. Then, I noticed Marie glance at me.

Maybe if it worked for Jordan…

I took a deep breath and tried to focus on what else would unfold in the day. Instead of a picture, all I saw were hazy black and gray figures in my mind and it felt like my brain had hit a wall. I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head.

“Really?” Marie asked, placing her hand on top of mine.

“Don’t worry about it,” I muttered, slowly pulling my hand away.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, your powers should come back soon,” Cate voiced hoarsely.

 I thought I nodded as I slowly moved to my feet. “I’m gonna go clean myself up.”

“Do you need any help?” Jordan offered.

“No, I got it.”

 After a few minutes of wandering through Dusty’s house, I found a semi-clean bathroom and locked the door as soon as I walked in. The faucet handles were slippery, and it took a few tries before I finally got the water running. When I reached for the paper towel roll on top of the toilet, I realized that my hands were trembling.

“Stop it, Y/N, calm down,” I hissed. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry ran through my head like a mantra as I patted my face with warm water.

“I do not need my powers to be myself,” I muttered. “I’m still me even if I can’t see potential future outcomes.”

Or help my friends or loved ones or pass any crim classes or get a job as a supe.

Then, I was thankful that the running water drowned out my sobs since I wasn’t sure how much of a noise blocker my hand was. I almost collapsed over the sink as my back shook with sobs and the hot tears ran down my face.

No matter how much I wanted to stop crying, I couldn’t. It was like all those years of holding it back made me incapable of doing it in the moment.

Why did this happen to me? Why do I have to get screwed over all the time? bitterly ran through my mind.

I never did anything to Cate to deserve this, nothing at all and she wiped me twice without thinking of the consequences. Wiping two days’ worth of memories from four people’s minds must have been a first for her. There was no telling what that could have done to her powers, and she still did it.

I don’t know why my brain decided that was the time to remember Cate’s playful smile when she talked me into sneaking off campus with the others or her sincerity when I processed my feelings about Jordan and Marie with her. My chest ached and it wasn’t like I had a chest cold----it was almost like I took a direct blow from Luke, but it ached worse than that.

None of Cate’s actions made sense at the moment. Shetty must have put in a lot of effort to manipulate her because she was my friend, almost like the big sister I never had. When I really thought about it, Cate was one of my most attentive friends. Whenever I was stressed or anxious, Cate would take me to her favorite campus green to meditate; when a creepy guy approached me at a party or club, Cate was one of the first people to intervene; and she always insisted that I joined her, Jordan, Andre, and Luke for study groups.

I had to know how she could go from that to rendering me powerless. As I finished cleaning the blood from around the left side of my mouth and nostril, a sinking feeling came over me.

If Shetty could do that to Cate then what had she done to me?

Knock! Knock!

The sound made me jump and shook me out of my stupor.

“One second!” I called, frantically wiping at the other side of my face.

As I stared at my reflection, I internally winced at my red, puffy eyes. It would take at least three rounds of Peter Thomas Roth under eye masks and endless eye drops to remedy them.

“I just wanted to check on you,” Marie’s voice softly called.

I almost froze and huffed.

“Oh, I’m fine.” I sniffled and wiped at my nose.

“I’ll believe you when you open the door.”

Did Marie have some sort of fixation with seeing me at my worst?

“Seriously, you can go back to the others,” I tried to insist.

“If you don’t, I will break down this door.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

Marie paused. “Jordan would.”

I huffed and threw the used tissues and paper towel in the trash can. After taking three deep breaths to calm myself, I unlocked the door and let Marie in. She immediately entered the room, forcing me to back up. Slowly, her hands grabbed the sides of my face, and she looked me over, eyes softening at the bits of blood I hadn’t been able to clean.

Then, I carefully grabbed her hands and started pulling away. “You don’t have to get that close to see that I’m fine.”

“Oh, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Marie apologized, then, she frowned. “Actually, no. After everything you said, you pushed me and Jordan away and ran as soon as we woke up; it’s confusing.”

I sighed and turned away from her as I grabbed more paper towel. “I’m sorry. After everything that happened when we were in Cate’s head, I didn’t want you or Jordan to see me like this…again.”

As soon as I turned towards the sink, Marie stepped in front of me and gently took the paper towel out of my hands. She gestured towards the toilet, and I sat on the seat as she wet the paper towel in the sink. After a few seconds, she turned off the faucet and leaned down in front of me.

Marie’s gaze was laser-focused as she cleaned up the rest of my face. The silence in the space was comfortable but I couldn’t stop fidgeting with my braids as she worked.

“When are you gonna understand that Jordan and I don’t care if you don’t look perfect all the time?” she finally uttered. “They just told you how we’re all messy in our own way and it’s okay that you’re a part of it.”

“I didn’t think I had any more tears left in me but I guess I was wrong,” I muttered with a shrug.

Marie hummed in response as she continued gently wiping my face. A few more seconds passed until she was finally done.

“Finding you and Cate scared the shit out of me,” she stated. “It felt like the ground fell out from under me and I had no idea what to do. Jordan had the idea of slowing down your heart rates and it worked but, I’m scared to think what would happen if it didn’t.”

“But it did work because you have amazing powers.” I grabbed her hands. “You saved me, and Cate and I know you’ll save more.” Then, I let go of her hands. “Well, not know-know.”

“Hey, you’ll get your powers back. We’ll figure something out,” Marie insisted. “But what if we don’t” hung on the tip of my tongue and I didn’t let it fall out. Instead, I watched Marie throw away the dirty paper towel and then she grabbed my hands.

“It’s okay to let us help you,” she said.

“But, you’ll get tired---”

“I won’t and I know Jordan won’t either. People take care of each other in relationships.”

I looked down at our clasped hands. “That’s all…new for me.”

Marie squeezed my hands. “Me too but, I know the basics.”

Having a loving family must have been nice; at least Marie had a normal baseline for how to be in a relationship. Then, I realized that she kept looking at me.

“What? Is there something else on my face? Did my eyes get worse?” I rambled.

Marie laughed. “No, your face is fine; pretty.”

My cheeks warmed at her words, and I couldn’t keep the grin off my lips. Then, I felt myself lean towards Marie and she quickly closed the gap. Her lips were slightly chapped but mostly soft against mine. As I pressed my lips against hers, I let go of Marie’s hands and tangled my hands in her twists. Marie’s hands ghosted up my hips and underneath my cardigan, pulling me closer to her.

I sighed at the feeling but didn’t stop kissing her. Somehow, Marie didn’t break the kiss as she stood, pulling me to my feet and running her hands up and down my back.

I could have stayed like that for a while but a scream followed by banging interrupted.

“SAM!” Emma yelled.

We broke apart and I grabbed Marie’s hand and tugged her out of the bathroom with me. When we got to the living room, it was a mess. On one end of the room, Jordan and Andre were picking themselves off the floor and trying to avoid all the broken glass and other furniture casualties. On the other end, Sam held a weak Cate up against a wall that already had a sizable hole in it. Based on the dust on Cate’s clothes, Sam had attacked her. Emma stood behind Sam, eyes wide but her voice calm. “Sam, it’s okay, you can let her go.”

“She hurt you---she made you forget,” Sam griped.

“But I’m okay now, everyone is okay now. You can let her go, she’s not going to hurt anyone else.”

It was hard to gauge how much I agreed with the last part of Emma’s statement, but I doubted Cate would go after one of us again soon. Slowly, Sam let her go and Cate collapsed on the ground, gasping. Marie hurried over to Cate’s side to help her up and Sam backed away from them, eyes still boring holes in the top of Cate’s head.

My eyes flitted to Emma, who seemed a little more relieved, and ran a hand through her messy hair.

“Why is your hair that messy?” I asked.

“What is it with people asking me that today? Why is your lip gloss smudged?”

Then, Jordan turned to me and raised an eyebrow. “Great timing, freshie.”

I thumbed at my lips and my cheeks warmed even more. “Get your head out of the gutter. Anyway, what brought you two back here?”

Emma straightened up. “We were looking for you guys because I wanted, well, actually, Sam has something he would like to say.”

Then, Emma gave Sam the same look her mom gave her when she needed her to improve on a take. Suddenly, Sam’s shoulders slumped, and he pouted as he gazed at the tips of his dirty sneakers.

“I’m sorry for almost killing you guys…twice. I’m working on getting better control of my emotions but being locked up for eighteen years really screws with your head,” Sam stated.

The silence that followed was almost unbearable. Cate’s eyes never left Sam as if she was waiting on him to pounce again; Marie frowned; Andre’s jaw clenched so hard that I wasn’t sure he would speak for a while; and Jordan cocked her head to the side.

Finally, Andre said, “You didn’t almost kill us.”

“Fifteen more seconds and he might have,” Jordan admitted.

“My head is still sore from the last time we met but I’m willing to move forward if you stop attacking us on sight,” I added.

“I’m really sorry about that. You’re Y/N, right? Emma talks about you all the time,” Sam commented.

I grinned. “Oh, really?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, she was saying that you’re great but clueless about relationships and----”

Emma patted Sam’s chest. “Okay, Sam, that’s enough. We don’t have time to talk about that because of the other thing.”

I narrowed my eyes at Emma. “Clueless, seriously?”

She smiled sheepishly and I sighed.

Unfortunately, Emma wasn’t fully wrong, but she didn’t have to tell Sam that. Besides, I was working on it.

For the next few minutes, the two filled us in on everything that was going on in the Woods. How Shetty had Dr. Cardoza experimenting on supes and how several people Sam knew down there got sick. Even though most of them got better, a couple died.

“And they never experimented on you?” Andre asked.

“Not the way they did with Tommy. He was super messed up but a funny guy. One day, they took him away for a session with Cardoza and I never saw him again,” Sam recalled.

“And Shetty knows about all of this and is doing nothing to stop it?” Marie confirmed.

“She hates supes; she wants us all dead,” Sam griped.

Cate shook her head. “That…that can’t be true. Indira always helped me and Y/N.”

Jordan glared at her. “Come on, Cate. Shetty manipulated the shit out of you because she knew we were getting too close.”

“And I want to know why she wanted the two of us to be so close,” I added.

Cate bit her bottom lip and played with the hem of her sweater. “This…this is a lot.”

I nodded. “But it sounds like they’re working on a virus that targets supes. Based on what Sam described, maybe they picked strong supes that weren’t as useful as Sam to be guinea pigs.” “So, they come up with a virus to kill all of us?” Andre asked.

“I don’t know if that’s the goal, though. Vought has invested way too much money in making supes and if all the GOD U students dropped dead, that’s the next lineup of the Seven gone,” Jordan interjected.

“And society is built around supes, and the fallout would be bad,” Marie said.

“But if Shetty hates us so much, she wouldn’t care,” I thought.

“How is she getting away with this when Vought watches everything? She has to report to them all the time,” Jordan wondered.

Since Brink died, Shetty had to have even more people working under her than before. It would be easy to have certain people cover up for her or maybe the woman was gifted at hiding heinous plots. Seeing how much effort she put into manipulating Cate, there was no telling how far Shetty was willing to go to hide the Woods.

“Shetty could lie on the reports; it’s not like Vought reads through everything carefully,” I pointed out.

“So, what do we do?” Emma asked.

At the moment, I wished that I had my powers. It would have made it much easier to come up with a plan. Instead, I didn’t try but racked my brain for ideas.

“I can help here,” Cate announced.

Everyone turned to her in unison, and no one looked confident. In all honesty, Sam seemed to be contemplating going after her again; Emma looked as though she wished Cate would stop talking; Andre somehow clenched his jaw more; Marie side-eyed her; and Jordan’s glare almost made me feel bad too. I tried to relax my shoulders and forced myself to listen.

“I know that no one trusts me right now but, I am the only one with a direct line to Indira,” Cate said. “Please, just let me try.”

“How do we know you won’t turn on us again?” Andre asked.

“I won’t, I promise,” Cate insisted.

“Yeah, well, your promises don’t mean shit to me right now,” Andre hissed.

“I agree with Andre; after this, anything’s possible,” Emma said.

Cate hesitated and turned to me. “Y/N, please, you know me. I may have messed up but I wouldn’t do it twice.”

A part of me wanted to believe her, really, but the other part was the giant gaping wound of being manipulated so badly that I had no powers. My stomach sunk when I looked at her and I suddenly felt nauseous.

I hugged my arms tightly around my waist. “I don’t know, Cate. I want to trust you again, but it’s difficult.”

Cate’s expression fell and I didn’t know if I wanted to comfort her or scream at her. Everything was so confusing and it didn’t help that I had this gnawing feeling that something else was going on; something that none of us knew.

Marie stepped forward to stand next to Cate. “I think this could be a good first step for you to start earning our trust, but I don’t blame Y/N for feeling how she feels.”

“Same here,” Jordan agreed.

I smiled at their words and had to fight to keep myself from crying even more.  

After some deliberation, we decided that Cate, Andre, Marie, Jordan, and I would focus on getting Shetty to expose her plot while Emma helped Sam hide from Vought or Shetty or whoever he’d upset.

That decision led me to leaning against the wall in a booth at an off-campus diner. It was fairly quiet, save for the handful of families laughing with their kids and the game that was on the outdated TV perched on a corner stand. Even though there was a giant plate of fries and greasy burgers on the table, barely anyone ate. I couldn’t stop staring at Cate, who was on her phone in the front corner of the restaurant.

“Can anyone hear anything?” Andre asked.

“No,” Marie said.

“And she’s not even facing us so we can’t even try lip reading,” I muttered.

Marie turned to me. “You know how to lip read?”

“Yeah, every crim major does. It’s part of the body language class,” I explained.

Marie nodded slowly. “This school is nuts.”

“We know,” Jordan muttered.

Finally, Cate hung up the phone and wandered back over to us. “I can’t see her yet; she’s in the city all morning.”

“What does that mean?” Jordan asked.

“I’ll have to wait at her house and get her to talk then,” Cate said.

Andre shook his head. “That’s too much time.”

“Did she sound different or suspicious of you?” Marie asked.

“No, she sounded fine. I’m sorry this isn’t turning out how we hoped.”

Based on her slumped shoulders, I guessed that Cate was telling the truth. The situation was both irritating and relieving since my list of questions for Shetty grew every minute and I was itching to ask them, but I was also thankful for a chance to gather my bearings. The thought of confronting her made me fidget since Shetty had helped me a lot.

How could someone be so kind and so hateful at the same time?

“…and stay out of our heads!”

Jordan’s exclamation jerked me from my thoughts, and I watched them shift to their male form and storm out of the diner. Andre ran his hand over his face and started messing with a straw while Cate looked down at her gloved hands.

“I’ll be back,” Marie muttered, slipping out of the booth and trailing after Jordan.

I blinked and turned back to Cate and Andre. “Sorry, what did I miss?”

“Jordan’s pissed because we have to wait at Shetty’s to get any info out of her and we’re on a timer pretty much,” Andre explained.

“This is all my fault,” Cate muttered.

Instead of answering, I dumped a handful of fries on my plate and started using them to make patterns in the ketchup between bites. When I bit into a burger, I almost moaned at the taste.

Either I was ravenous, or this place had decent food.

When I glanced back up, Cate and Andre stared at me.

I swallowed. “I got hungry.”

“You’re not gonna go after your…partners?” Andre asked.

I straightened up and continued munching on a fry. “We never labeled ourselves as anything and Marie’s got it.”

“Well, I’m glad the three of you have figured something out,” Cate offered.

“Thanks, but, I don’t know how much we have figured out.”

With everything going on, I never paused to think about how this relationship would work. In all honesty, I was shocked that I was able to tell Jordan and Marie how I felt and even more when both reciprocated. But I wondered what happened from here. How did we figure that out?

“It takes time,” Cate answered.

I snapped my eyes up to her. “Could you not probe my mind for a second?”

“Sorry, I can’t help it right now.”

Just as I was going to take another bite, my phone buzzed in my lap.

M: Come outside.

I quickly typed back, Omw.

“If I’m not back soon, just get a box for me.”

“Got you,” Andre said.

When I got outside, the chill made me wrap my cardigan tighter around me. Fortunately, Jordan and Marie were just around the corner and it was a short walk. Just as I got around the corner, the two were kissing. It only lasted a few seconds until Jordan pulled away, a smirk on his face, and I imagined Marie had a similar expression.

“What was that about my bad timing?” I called.

Marie turned at the sound of my voice and Jordan’s smirk deepened.

“Don’t be jealous,” he sang.

Funnily enough, I wasn’t jealous the first time I caught them; just shocked and confused. This time, watching them made me smile all over.

I rolled my eyes at Jordan’s words and sauntered over to them. “Please tell me you didn’t make Marie summon me in an attempt to make me jealous.”

“He didn’t make me do anything, but I thought you should be a part of this conversation,” Marie explained.

Then, Marie launched into hers and Jordan’s idea to break into Shetty’s office, find damning evidence of the Woods and the virus, and bring it to Victoria Neuman. The more she talked, the more the uneasiness set in.

“That town hall is happening today so it’s perfect timing,” Marie concluded.

Jordan looked at me expectantly and I glanced at the giant blue and red poster of the political candidate on the side of the building. Politicians had this strange fixation on looking hopeful, trustworthy, and powerful in all their photos. According to Coco, it was one of the most challenging parts of the field. No matter what any politician did, it all seemed fake to me. Maybe it was because I could see what they would really do if they were elected.

Even though I couldn’t use my powers, something about Victoria Neuman seemed off to me.

“Say it, freshie,” Jordan encouraged gently.

“In theory, I think it’s a good idea to get this information to someone with massive influence,” I started.

“But,” Marie said.

“But I have a weird feeling about her, actually, I’ve been having a weird feeling all day now,” I admitted.

“This is our best shot to expose Shetty right now,” Marie argued.

I nodded. “And I’m not saying not to take it. I’m saying I’m not sure how it’ll play out.”

“Is this about your powers?” Jordan asked.

“No, sort of, anyway, like I said, if you want to go rogue, do it.”

“You’d be coming with us too.” Marie reached a hand towards me, and I unfolded my arms to let her play with my fingers.

I sighed. “But I don’t know how helpful I’ll be.”

“This is gonna sound cheesy as hell, but you don’t need your powers to be helpful. You figured out that Cate manipulated you twice and you figured out that their goal in the Woods is to create a virus against supes. And you did all that without your powers,” Jordan pointed out.

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” Marie added.

I smiled and flipped my braids over my shoulder. “If you say so.”

Marie shook her head and Jordan grabbed my other hand.

“So, this may not be the best time to ask but are we…”

“You’re my girlfriend,” Jordan answered.

“Our girlfriend,” Marie corrected.

“She asked me out first.”

“No, I didn’t. I told you I liked you first,” I argued.

Jordan shrugged. “Same thing.”

Marie swatted Jordan’s arm with her free hand. “This relationship isn’t a competition.”

“Said the sore loser.”

Just as they were about to start bickering, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I let go of Jordan’s hand to grab it, ignored his feigned insulted gasp, and swiped through it. Sydney had texted Sasha, Alina, Lydia, and me in our group text.

S:911. Meeting in an hour.

“As much as I would love to continue this, I have to go to Si Chi,” I said, slipping my phone back in my pocket.

“Really? Now?” Jordan asked.

“Emergency meeting and I need time to get ready. I’ll text you both later.”

When I moved to hug Marie, she pecked my lips instead and I flinched. She smiled mischievously and I blinked at her.

“And I thought you were this shy, sweet freshman,” I muttered.

“I learn quickly,” she teased.

I shook my head and turned to Jordan, who immediately pressed his lips against mine, hands roaming all over my back. I was in a daze as he moaned but when one of his hands squeezed my butt, I yelped and jumped away.

“Jordan!” I rasped.

Even though Jordan apologized, he did not look sorry at all. As I sauntered off to get an Uber, I couldn’t help but wonder what I had gotten myself into but couldn’t deny the buzz of excitement at the thought.

Exactly fifty-five minutes later, I sat in the large conference room in Si Chi, freshly showered and made up. The cherry red Ralph Lauren tennis mini dress and white Chanel platforms paired with my braids swept up in a messy bun made me feel exposed but pretty. A minute later, Alina and Lydia waltzed in together. Alina’s hair was in a low bun with pieces framing her face and her black long-sleeved Naked Wardrobe skirt set flowed around her with each step. Lydia wore a deep plum Givenchy blazer over a white Oxford and dark Levi’s, her deep auburn hair fell around her shoulders in soft curls.

Immediately, Lydia took a seat across from me while Alina took a seat on my right.

“Hi, Lydia, Alina,” I greeted.

“Hi, Y/N,” Lydia chirped.

“Hi,” Alina said.

 As soon as they sat, Sydney breezed in, her knit white DKNY dress catching the light as well as her diamond studs. She pushed a wavy strawberry blonde tendril out of her face as she took a seat at the head of the table and set her canvas Marc Jacobs tote on the glossy table.

“Hello, girls,” Sydney said.

“Hello, Sydney.”

Our unified voices sent a chill down my spine.

Finally, Sasha burst in, sweat coating her forehead as she quickly took the seat next to Lydia and adjusted her deep green wrap dress. “Sorry, there was a big crowd because of the rally.”

“It’s okay, Sasha. Just remember to factor in big events when you’re commuting for other meetings,” Sydney advised evenly.

Sasha seemed to gulp and nodded.

“That leads me to the topic of this emergency meeting. I know that the town hall on campus is going to be packed and it’s been a hot topic for weeks since it was announced. This morning, all the Greek presidents met and determined that each house will decide their own policy for attendance,” Sydney explained. “I’ve debated this for a while. Our high standards and reputation attract ambitious women and plenty of them will want to attend the town hall. However, I am also concerned about the safety of this event since there is so much opposition on both sides.”

Sydney paused.

“That is why I believe that no Si Chi girl should attend the event,” Sydney stated.

Even though she worded it softly, Sydney was forbidding all of us from attending. If anyone was caught, that would mean an automatic exit from the house.

“It’s especially important for us as leadership to be role models for the initiates. We must choose our events wisely and we don’t want any of them risking anything because of their ideologies or to try to go viral,” Sydney explained.

“It makes sense. Those pro-supes are rowdy,” Lydia agreed.

And ignorant, I thought.

“I’m all for supe rights but I don’t want to be caught in a riot,” Alina added.

“How do we communicate this to the other girls?” Sasha asked.

“Y/N can send something out in the house Discord.” Sydney smiled at me. “You know how to make it tasteful but authoritative.”

As much as I appreciated the compliment, I couldn’t stop thinking of how to persuade her. If I had my powers, this would be nothing but the only thing I had was my wits. The more I thought, the more I was concerned that my wits abandoned me.

“Well, that’s it unless anyone has something to add?” Sydney prompted.

Finally, I had something.

“Yes. I agree that everyone’s safety is important, but I don’t think we’ve thought about the political science majors. Their professors will be all over this and more and more of them want first-hand footage. I think discouraging everyone will put them at a real disadvantage,” I said.

My heart pounded in my ears as I watched the gears turn in Sydney’s head. It wasn’t my best work but it might have made a difference.

“It’s a shame but, they’ll have to figure something else out,” Sydney said.

“Well---”

“Have that done in thirty, okay?”

Sydney’s words were light but her eyes were so intense that my words stopped in my head. I nodded and she dismissed everyone. Sasha grinned widely at me as she stood and walked out.

“I guess your friend will have to figure something else out. With it being junior year and all, it’s even more important that she doesn’t fail anything,” Sasha said.

“Her name is Coco and even though this is an inconvenience she’ll figure something out.”

As confident as I was in Coco, I had no idea what I was going to do. Surprisingly, writing up the Discord message was easy, even though plenty of the girls were upset, it was a simple fix of, “If you’re disappointed, Sydney is more than happy to answer your questions.” However, I wasn’t sure how I was going to tell Jordan and Marie that I couldn’t help them get the information to Neuman.

Of course, the time we set to meet up outside of Shetty’s office arrived too soon and I found myself pacing down the hall, filled with dread the closer I got to Shetty’s office. When I arrived, the door was already open and my heart lurched into my throat.

Oh no, we’ve been caught, this won’t work, I panicked.

Then, I forced myself to take a deep breath and crept closer to the door. It took five more deep breaths for me to get the courage to peek around the corner. At first glance, Shetty’s office looked like it normally did: peaceful but professional. Her space was light and airy with the perfect amount of light from the sun seeping through the windows. However, when I looked closer, there were papers sprawled over her desk, something that she would never stand for.

Just as I started to creep in, Jordan popped up from behind the desk and cursed loudly when she saw me.

“You could have said something, freshie!” Jordan admonished, one hand pressed to her chest and another holding a file.

“Well, I didn’t know who was in here!” I defended, wandering further in. “You should have closed the doors behind you.”

Jordan smirked. “You say that like I’m not the one who taught you how to sneak into places. I would have just told whoever that Shetty needed me to find something.”

“Technically, you all contributed to teaching me that but okay.”

Then, I turned back towards the doors to start closing them when Marie slipped in. We nearly collided but I took a half step back.

“Shit, sorry!” Marie exclaimed.

“It’s fine, I guess it’s my karma.”

I let her slip past me and made sure the doors were secured behind us before joining her and Jordan at Shetty’s desk.

“Have you found anything yet?” Marie asked.

“No, just different files on different kids.”

I perked up. “Like the ones she checks in with?”

“I think so. I didn’t read any because that felt wrong.” Jordan paused. “And don’t go looking for your file; you need to be focused.”

“Fine,” I groaned playfully.

We decided it would be best for Jordan and me to go through Shetty’s physical files while Marie searched her computer. As I skimmed the documents, my brain circled around how I would tell them that I couldn’t go to the town hall. There was no great way to say, “Hey, I can’t help you expose a major conspiracy because my house president said ‘no’ and if I disobey, I’ll be ostracized.” I would find better words but that’s what it all boiled down to.

If only Si Chi and rankings didn’t matter so much.

Then, I paused at a newspaper clipping I found. It was from that plane crash a couple of years back, the one that Queen Maeve and Homelander failed to save. The thought of all those people dying made my stomach churn. As I kept reading, my stomach settled a little and I felt myself buzzing.

“Look.” I set the file down on Shetty’s desk and Jordan stepped closer and Marie swiveled in her chair.

“It’s from that plane crash,” Marie observed.

“Why would Shetty have a file on this?” Jordan asked.

“Because of this.” I flipped through the documents and pointed out the passenger list. “It’s right in the middle.”

After a few seconds of reading, both their eyes widened.

“Holy shit,” Jordan breathed.

“Her kid and her husband were on that plane; that’s why she hates all supes, it makes total sense,” Marie said.

“It’s only motive but, it might be useful for Neuman. But no one’s found anything on the Woods?” I asked.

Marie and Jordan shook their heads.

“Great, this couldn’t get worse,” Marie muttered.

Immediately, Shetty’s office door handle started jiggling and our eyes snapped to it.

“I thought you locked the door,” Jordan hissed.

“No, it would have been suspicious if the door was locked,” I whispered back.

“We don’t have time for this. Hide whatever you can.”

Frantically, we shoved the unimportant files in random drawers, and I kept the one about the plane crash under my denim jacket. Just when the door pushed open, someone dragged me down and I found myself sandwiched between Jordan and Marie underneath Shetty’s desk. It was a tight squeeze, and I didn’t think that I could move if I tried but, I was more focused on keeping my breathing even as someone entered the office.

“Nice digs. I guess this is what you get for screwing over everyone,” a masculine voice drawled.

“That’s Cardoza,” Jordan mouthed.

My eyes widened and I could feel my heart rate pick up. For a few seconds, I couldn’t focus on any of my surroundings, and I couldn’t hear anything either. This shouldn’t have been happening, I took my medicine, I knew I did.

Just breathe, Y/N, and use your exercise.

I see three of Jordan’s rings, I smell Marie’s hair oil, I feel really warm, and----

My thoughts were cut off by Marie grabbing my shoulders and muttering, “It’s okay.”

In the next few seconds, my heart rate slowed down, and I breathed a lot easier. I would have turned to thank her if it would have blown our cover.

For the next minute, Dr. Cardoza ranted about how his medical prowess was misused and how no one was supposed to get hurt.

“It was all for science! But screw science and me, right?” he bellowed.

Then, he got quiet for a second, but it was quickly filled by the sound of something trickling. Since she was in the most convenient position, Jordan poked her head out from her hiding spot only to immediately retract it and shake her head.

I hated where my imagination went.

Finally, the sound stopped, and the man groaned. “Here’s your precious data.”

Something plopped onto the desk, and we all perked up. As soon as the door slammed behind him, we rushed out from our hiding spot. Marie grabbed the USB that Dr. Cardoza dropped and plugged it into the computer. In seconds, we had everything that could expose Dean Shetty and the Woods. Some of the details made me wretch and some things did not need visuals but had them.

It was perfect ammunition.

“Wow,” Marie said.

“How long were they doing all this?” Jordan muttered.

I shook my head, grabbed the file from my jacket, and took pictures of the important parts. “I don’t know if I want to know at this point.”

After Marie grabbed the USB and we put everything else back to normal, we got out of that office as quickly as we could. While we walked down the hallway, my thumbs flew across my phone screen.

“I just sent the pictures to you both,” I said.

“Why? Are you afraid you’ll accidentally delete it?” Marie asked.

Okay, here it goes.

“I can’t go to the town hall,” I confessed.

“Are you scared? No one’s going to do anything, they’re all talk,” Jordan said. “And I wouldn’t let them touch you.”

“Neither would I,” Marie affirmed.

“I appreciate that but, it’s not out of fear. Si Chi girls can’t attend; president’s orders.”

They stopped walking at the same time, and I lagged a little, dreading facing them. At first, they both looked stunned then Jordan looked like she would strangle someone, and Marie was confused.

“That’s bullshit,” Jordan hissed.

“Yeah, they can’t tell you where you can and can’t go,” Marie agreed.

I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “Well, they sort of can. If I go, it’s immediate expulsion from the sorority.”

“But this is important. They have to make an exception,” Marie offered.

“I couldn’t tell them about this. Sydney would get an ulcer at the thought of breaking into the dean’s office and going through private files,” I argued. “Plus, if I told them about any of this, they’d think I’m a crazy conspiracy theorist.”

“This isn’t a conspiracy or a theory; they did this shit and no one did anything about it,” Jordan insisted.

I huffed. “I know that, Jordan, but I also know these girls and they don’t like to leave their comfort zones. Even though Sydney is one of the more progressive presidents, she still has to maintain the standards.”

“Even if it includes covering up Shetty’s plan to make everyone sick?”

I hesitated. “I…I’m not sure.”

Marie groaned. “Come on, Y/N, you don’t have to do every little thing they say. You’re high up in the house, doesn’t that mean anything?”

“Yes, it means more status and respect but also more eyes, so I’m almost double forbidden from going.” I sighed. “I’m sorry but, this is as far as I can go. Text or video call me if you need anything.”

The moment I turned on my heel and started walking away, I understood what a kicked puppy must feel like. I only made it a few steps before both grabbed one of my wrists.  

“Stop running,” Jordan said.

“I’m not running,” I argued.

“Bullshit, this whole thing is,” she challenged.

I paused and narrowed my eyes at Jordan. “It might be to you but it’s very important to me. It always has been.”

When I pulled at her hand, Jordan let me go and I turned to Marie, but her expression hardened.

“You don’t have to do this,” she insisted.

I scoffed. “Yes, I do. Vought already gave you their stamp of approval, so you’re set. I have to play it smart, and I can’t do anything to lose Si Chi right now.”

“That’s not fair, Y/N,” Marie said.

“It’s the truth, though. I’m on thin ice with not being able to use my powers and I can’t mess up anything else!”

Jordan stepped closer to me. “The Woods is bigger than anything at this school. Screw rankings, Si Chi, and GOD U. Shetty wants us all dead and you have a chance to stop her. You have a chance to be a hero.”

They were right, this was a fantastic opportunity to help people and make GOD U a better place. We had no idea how many kids were still trapped down there or what they were experiencing. This plot needed to be exposed and everyone needed to be held accountable. At any other time, I would have jumped at the chance to help but I couldn’t.

If only Sydney hadn’t given that order.

I wanted the ground to swallow me up and take me somewhere far away from the two pairs of deep brown eyes that bored into me. I also wanted Marie and Jordan to stop looking at me with such intensity; it just made everything harder.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You’re not the only one risking your ranking here, you know. I don’t get why you insist on doing all this shit after everything,” Jordan spat.

I flinched at her tone and swallowed thickly. I knew she was referring to my family and how awful they were. The worst part was I didn’t know why I was like this either.

How could I have made so much progress just to end up back where I was?

Just a few hours ago, I was giggly about having a new girlfriend and partner. Before my meeting at Si Chi, I even made spreadsheets of some dates we could have and gift ideas for holidays and birthdays.

Seeing them both look at me with such hurt in their eyes almost broke me and I wanted to forget about the smug expression on Sasha’s face and Sydney’s tone. But, I just couldn’t.  

[leighbaye]

— CINNAMON GIRL ⁶

written by mina leigh ୨ৎ , steve randle 𝔁 f! reader | wc 1000

summary. steve’s perspective on y/n, showcasing her ability to bring balance to his fiery personality and help him navigate his insecurities. through steve’s eyes, we see how her unwavering support and understanding make her an essential part of their tight-knit group.

labels. steve’s point of view.

warnings. mild language, steve’s frustration with himself and others, and introspection about his place in the group.

there aren’t a lot of people who can put up with me. not really.

don’t get me wrong, i know i’m not the easiest guy to be around. i’ve got a temper, i get loud, and i don’t always think before i say something. most people either give up on me or just ignore me altogether.

but y/n? she’s different.

what a doll she is, truly.

i remember the first time i really noticed her. i mean, i’d seen her around before — she was always hanging out with the curtis boys, watching out for ponyboy or keeping soda in line. but we never really talked much.

it was a hot summer afternoon, and me and soda were in the garage, working on some old junker that barely held itself together. i was getting pissed because the stupid thing wouldn’t start, no matter what i tried.

❝stupid piece of —❞ i yelled, slamming the hood shut and kicking the tire for good measure.

❝you’re gonna break your foot doing that,❞ a soft voice said from behind me.

i turned around, ready to snap at whoever it was, but stopped short when i saw her. y/n was standing there with a glass of lemonade in each hand, her head tilted like she was trying to figure me out.

❝what do you want?❞ i muttered, wiping my hands on a rag.

❝thought you guys might need a break,❞ she said, holding out one of the glasses.

i hesitated for a second before taking it, mumbling a quick thanks. soda grinned, already halfway through his drink.

❝you have a lot of patience.❞ she said after a moment, nodding toward the car.

i snorted. ❝you call this patience? i’ve been cussing at it for the last hour.❞

she smiled, and it wasn’t one of those pitying smiles people give when they think you’re being dramatic. it was like she actually understood.

❝sometimes things don’t work until you stop trying so hard,❞ she said, setting her glass down. ❝maybe you just need to let it sit for a while.❞

i didn’t know what to say to that, so i just went back to fiddling with the engine, her words echoing in my head.

y/n’s got this way of making you feel like you’re not as messed up as you think you are. it’s not like she tries to fix you or anything — she just … gets it.

she really, i mean really does.

that’s something i love about her.

there was this one time when i got into a fight with soda. i don’t even remember what it was about, but i was pissed. i stormed out of the garage and went to cool off in the lot, kicking at rocks and muttering to myself.

a little while later, y/n showed up. she didn’t say anything at first, just sat down next to me and stared up at the sky.

❝you wanna talk about it?❞ she asked after a while.

❝not really,❞ i grumbled, crossing my arms.

she nodded, like that was fine with her.

❝sometimes it’s better to let it out, though,❞ she said quietly.

i sighed, running a hand through my hair. ❝i just … i don’t know. sometimes it feels like soda doesn’t take me seriously, you know? like i’m just his sidekick or something.❞

she turned to look at me, her eyes soft but steady. ❝steve, you’re more than that. soda’s lucky to have you, and he knows it. we all do.❞

her words caught me off guard, and for a second, i didn’t know what to say.

❝you really think so?❞ i asked, my voice quieter than i meant it to be.

she smiled, nudging me lightly with her shoulder. ❝i know so.❞

y/n’s one of the only people who can calm me down when i’m worked up. it’s not like she tells me what to do or anything — she just has this way of making me see things differently.

like when i’m in the middle of a rant about something stupid, she’ll just listen, nodding along until i run out of steam. then she’ll say something simple, like, ❝it sounds like you care a lot about this. that’s not a bad thing, you know.❞

and just like that, i’m not as mad anymore.

i don’t think she knows how much she means to all of us. she’s always there, always helping, but she never asks for anything in return.

there was this one time when we were all hanging out at the curtis house, and darry was stressing over bills or something. y/n just got up, grabbed a broom, and started cleaning without saying a word.

❝you don’t have to do that,❞ darry said, looking up from the kitchen table.

❝i know,❞ she replied, her tone light. ❝but it helps, right?❞

that’s just how she is. always helping, always making things a little easier for everyone else.

sometimes i wonder how she does it. how she can be so … good, even with everything she’s been through.

i mean, she’s got her own brothers to worry about, her own problems to deal with. but she never lets it show. she just keeps going, like she’s got this endless well of strength that the rest of us can only dream of.

if i’m being honest, i don’t think i’d still be around if it wasn’t for y/n. she’s one of the only people who makes me feel like i’m more than just some loudmouth grease monkey.

she sees me. the real me.

and that’s something i’ll never forget.

© MINA LEIGH 2024 - 2025

. . . prologue darry curtis sodapop curtis ponyboy curtis

dallas winston johnny cade you’re here! two - bit matthews

[fictionalsillies]

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

So … this week is turning out to be more stressful than I was expecting … thankfully though my four silly beloveds are there for me ;C; ❣️

Since I really wanted to find a distraction to calm myself down I ended up writing about how I think my f/os would take care of me whenever I start overthinking and get taken over by anxiety : just kinda needed to hear these things today is all :’]👍❤️

If you like , feel free to reblog this post and tell me all about how your f/o helps you feel better when you’re sad : I’d honestly love to hear it ! :DD

Sorry in advance - this is extremely self indulgent !!

☠️ Jaw Bone 

I think it’s safe to say that my favorite skeleton isn’t exactly someone who gets as anxious as I do about literally every little thing ( quite the opposite ^^” ) , but even though we might be different on this aspect I like to imagine that JB would still do his best to help out : 

I feel like he’d try to cheer me up with his puns , making me laugh with his comments  about him “kicking my anxiety’s ass” while holding me in his arms , his warmth making my troubles seem very far away for at least some time … yeah , imagining Jaw Bone being soft and gentle in these situations honestly makes my heart melt :’//] 💚💚

“We’re in this together , starfire … don’t you forget it : I ain’t gonna let you face all this on your own .” 

🐊 Bea 

Oh Bea … she’s truly a sweetheart ❣️

Considering the way she was there for Mae after all she has been through during the last chapter of NITW , I’m 100% sure that she would handle my anxiety episodes with the upmost patience and care : 

I can imagine her helping me lay down on my bed , quietly listening to my worries while holding my hands to keep me grounded … Bea is just really tender deep down , and I know she would do an amazing job with helping me calm down and rationalize the situation :) 💕

“It’s okay to be worried , you don’t have to feel ashamed … know that I’ll be there for you no matter what .” 

✨ The Godseeker 

I imagine that the Godseeker would be a little unsure of how to help in this scenario : having lived in her own dreams for such a long time I don’t think she has had many opportunities to talk to other people , so her inner response to seeing me being so anxious would probably be something like “Oh no … oh gods … what shall I do now … ?” 

However , that doesn’t mean that she isn’t going to try ! 

I can picture the Godseeker sitting next to me , slowly leaning her head on my shoulder and using her soothing humming to help me relax … knowing how much I like her voice she would definitely use it in these cases ^^ ❣️

“This shall pass … let us try to rest now , my dearest .”

🧁 Baroness Von Bon Bon 

Similarly to the Godseeker , Bon Bon would also be someone who doesn’t have much experience with helping others with such things , considering that she’s been trapped in Sugarland all on her own for god knows how long … 

I feel like she would help me sit somewhere comfortable , handing me a warm cup of my favorite tea and gently caressing my hair while I speak : I just picture the Baroness as someone who would do anything to put my mind at ease and see me return happy after taking my time to recover :D 💕

“There’s that lovely smile ~ Don’t worry my sweet , we’ll figure everything out , but until then let’s just relax until you feel better : you deserve it !” 

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

[emmyrosee]

He was bored.

No, more than that. He was lonely.

Bakugo knew what he was getting into the minute he decided to sever what little bit of rope you’d tried to keep weaved between you both, but in his mind, it was unavoidable. You were a hazard to a man and his job, all he’d worked for and all he’d succeeded to get to where he was.

But god damn, you were so hard to shake.

You’d found him broken, and you took the time to mend him back together, giving him all the love and patience you could give him, all the care and attention, when he couldn’t give two shits about giving you the same kind of love.

What Katsuki didnt take into count was how baron his house looked without your shitty little plants. How big it looks without your shoes scattered around. How cold his floor was without your clothes draped over the hardwood.

He didn’t take into account how boring the fan was to stare at.

How quiet it was with just the tv on.

It’s too fucking quiet in this goddamned apartment.

He knows it’s selfish to want you to come to him, he knows damn well he should be on his knees, begging for you to cave for him, but his ego would never let that happen.

Not when he could have you search him out on yours.

Calloused hands paw at the side table for his phone, the sudden brightness of his lock screen blinding him for a second. What used to be a picture of you is now one of some generic ocean scene- prior to that, and after you were changed, it was him, Kaminari and Deku, but rumor was Kaminari was making you happier than Katsuki ever could, and the last thing he’s in the fucking mood for is to see the blonde bimbo trying to build you back up after he tore you down so roughly.

No need for extra reminders.

He has your number still, which he sometimes regrets. It’s tantalizing for his thumb to hover over your icon on a good day, let alone tonight when he’s about to ruin your life all over again.

The angel on his shoulder begs him, pleads him to reconsider and leave you alone, while the devil reminds him that if he’s gotta suffer, he’s gonna take you with him. The angel screams to let you heal, let your heart mend, while the devil prevails and his thumb hits the call button.

It rings once. Then twice. Then a third, and he’s hating the way his second thoughts echo in his head. But he knows if he’s going to destroy your heart all over again, he’s gotta hold true- not bail out and leaving you with the wonder of why he called you at one a.m..

“Katsuki?”

He sinks his teeth into the bottom of his lip as your voice quivers over the other side of the phone, partially in sleepiness and partially in distress he assumes. He hums in acknowledgment, “hey babydoll.”

Your breath catches in your throat, “what do you want?”

You’re cute, trying to be stern. He sees right through you, he always has.

“Can’t I call to make sure you’re okay?”

“Not at fucking two in the morning,” you snap. “I’m not in the fucking mood for this.”

“You wound me, momma.”

“Stop,” You snarl. He smirks, but he does metaphorically step back from the line. “What do you want.”

“I want help changing my oil,” he says flatly. You don’t laugh, though he’s not surprised. “I want you, baby. Thought that was obvious.”

“You had six months to want me,” you say, and he hears your grit. “Six. Months. You don’t get to booty call me at one in the morning and say you just ‘want me.’ You’re full of it.”

He sighs, “this isn’t a booty call. Can’t I just miss you?”

“No.” He almost flinches from how angry you growl. But that angry facade doesn’t last- he hears a sob catch in your voice when you try to speak. “No,” you choke, and he fists his hands so hard they ache, always trying to calm himself from your defiance. “No. You told me we weren’t going to do this. I told you we were done with this.”

“Yeah?” He husks. “Since when do you ever listen to what I say? Looks like we’ve both got listening problems.”

“I’m hanging up-“

“Come on, baby,” he says, a rasp his throat. “Just… just tonight. Please.” He hates how weak he sounds, he knows he’s pathetic to manipulate you to come back to him after all he’s put you through. “I hate… this. It’s too cold, and I know your ass can’t sleep either.”

You’re silent on your end, and he’s almost ready to give up, but you croak when he finally moves the phone away from him. He brings the receiver back to his ear, “what was that?”

“I don’t want to miss you anymore.”

His heart sinks to his chest once he hears your watery, unsteady voice. He can practically see you, bringing your hoodie-clad hand up to cover your mouth to muffle your sobs. He hates this, hates himself for doing this to you, he’s such a fucking asshole.

Fuck, he needs you in his bed.

He needs to caress and love and hold you like the fucking creep he is, dangle the littlest fish in front of you before yanking it away to leave you broken.

“You don’t have to miss me anymore.” he sighs. “Come over.”

He knows manipulating you back into his arms is the most cruel thing he’s ever done, but it’s what he needs. You are.

“Katsuki, please stop-“

“I can come get you, too.”

“We’re bad for each other-“

“We’re not good for anyone else, either.”

You go silent again. Even on the other side of the phone, he knows your wall is crumbling, the wall you’d spent weeks building to protect your heart from him again, and he smirks. You never really were able to say no to him.

“I’m not… I don’t think it’s a good idea, Katsuki…”

“We don’t have to think it’s good,” he scoffs. When you say nothing, he licks his lips, “do you want me, too?”

“That’s not fair and you know it.”

He chuckles in spite of himself, “have I ever played fair?”

Okay. That one hurt- he’ll be the first to say that one felt dirty. He hears the slight shift in your throat, the way your noises catch, and the angel on his shoulder is about to apologize for ever bothering you when you finally pipe up.

He’s always known that if he lets his harsh, albeit true, words hang in the silence a beat longer than any non-manipulative person should, you’d always answer back.

This, apparently, has not faltered since he broke your heart.

“I’m driving,” you sniffle. “I have a meeting at 8 tomorrow. I need to be able to go to work first thing in the morning.”

He pokes his tongue in the corner of his cheek to keep the sound of his excitement from bubbling over, “see you soon, babydoll.”

The phone clicks off while he sighs happily, and he brings a massive paw up to his hair to card it back.

He’s an asshole. He’s the scum of the earth, he’s the worst man to scrape the face of the earth for all he’s put you through. But you’re his addiction, and the only dealer he can rely on, and he’ll be damned to let you go over one heartbreak he caused.

And he’ll drag you to hell just for one taste of heaven.

[d8nielaa]

Can you do a Brent or Darrel one??? I absolutely love your work and just wish there was more of him! Thank you!!!

Authors Note: yess I love darrel curtis so much its actually insane- also this photo is my holy grail

A Little Rest

Darrel Curtis x fem!reader

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm orange glow over the Curtis house. The familiar sound of the front door creaking open echoed in the otherwise quiet home. Darry Curtis stepped in, his boots heavy against the floorboards. He was tired—exhausted, really—but as always, he tried to hide it, pushing it down until he could finally catch a breath.

It had been another long day, working his butt off to keep things steady for his brothers, to make sure they had food, school supplies, everything they needed. Sometimes, it felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, but he couldn’t let it show. Not to Ponyboy, not to Sodapop, and especially not to you.

He’d noticed you sitting on the couch when he walked in, your head resting against the back cushion, eyes closed like you were waiting for him. His heart softened at the sight. You were always there, always looking out for him, even when he didn’t ask for it. It was one of the things that had drawn him to you—how easy it was to be with you, how your presence calmed him when everything else seemed chaotic.

You hadn’t heard him come in, but when he shut the door quietly behind him, you opened your eyes. There was that small, knowing smile, the one you always gave him when you knew he was running on fumes.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, voice warm with affection.

“Hey,” Darry answered, giving you a tired but genuine smile as he kicked off his boots. He was still standing, leaning against the doorframe for just a second, taking in the sight of you. You always seemed like a sense of calm for him, and right now, that calm was exactly what he needed.

You patted the space beside you on the couch. “You look like you could use a break.”

Darry chuckled, though it wasn’t quite as light as it usually was. “When don’t I look like I need a break?”

You raised an eyebrow, that same playful look you always gave him when you knew he was being stubborn. “You’ve been running yourself into the ground for weeks, Darry. You’re gonna burn out.”

He shook his head, though there was no real conviction behind it. “I’m fine,” he said, but his voice was a little too flat to sound convincing. “Just gotta keep everything together for the boys.”

You nodded, your expression softening as you motioned for him to sit down. “I get it, Darry. But you don’t have to do it all alone. Let me help.”

He hesitated, standing there for a moment longer than necessary. His pride was a heavy thing to lay down, and he rarely let anyone see him this vulnerable. But the exhaustion weighed down on him, and as he looked at you—at the warmth in your eyes and the patience in your voice—he realized maybe he didn’t need to carry it all by himself.

Slowly, he sank into the couch beside you, his muscles aching from the long hours. He didn’t immediately say anything. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh, leaning back into the cushions like he’d been holding himself up for far too long.

You turned to him, nudging his shoulder gently with yours. “You need to take care of yourself, Darry. You can’t keep doing this forever.”

He shifted his gaze toward you, his eyes tired but soft. “I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly. “I’ve gotta make sure Pony and Soda have everything they need. I’m the one they depend on.”

You nodded, understanding the weight of his words. Darry always felt like he was the anchor of the family, the one who had to be strong for everyone else. But it was in moments like this, with his walls lowered just enough, that you could see how much that responsibility wore on him.

“Maybe,” you said gently, “but you’re human, Darry. You’re not a machine.”

There was a long pause as Darry let your words sink in. He didn’t know how to reply to that, didn’t know how to ask for the help he so clearly needed. Instead, he leaned back a little more and let his eyes drift closed. Maybe, just for a moment, he could let himself rest.

You didn’t push him to talk more, and that was exactly what he needed. Sometimes, silence was enough, and the simple presence of someone who understood made all the difference.

After a while, you shifted, getting up to make him a cup of coffee—he’d need it before the evening was over. When you came back, he was still there, eyes closed, his posture a little less rigid than usual. You set the mug down beside him, and as he opened his eyes, you smiled at him softly.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Darry murmured, his voice thick with gratitude, though he still tried to sound like it was no big deal.

You shrugged, offering a quiet smile. “I know. But sometimes, you just need someone to take care of you, too.”

His chest tightened at the simplicity of your words, and for the first time in a while, he let himself lean into the comfort you offered. He took the coffee, his hand brushing yours as he did. “Thanks,” he said, his voice rougher than usual. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You sat beside him again, your body close enough that he could feel the warmth of you next to him. It was an unspoken kind of closeness, something more comforting than anything he could have said aloud.

As the night stretched on and the quiet settled between you, Darry allowed himself to relax just a little more. He didn’t have to carry everything alone, not when you were there. He didn’t have to do it all by himself.

With you by his side, he could finally let go—just for tonight—and let someone else shoulder a little bit of the weight.

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

Authors Note: picture life without old darry arounddddd

[erasermist]

One Piece Live Action Season 1 (includes spoilers):

Sanji Thoughts

As usual this is gonna be really ramble-y (rambly?) and honestly just me listing practically every instance I could see 😂 sorry if it doesn’t make sense! I just need to get all my feels out and this is the best place.

I just love Sanji’s characterization in this version. Don’t get me wrong, I love anime Sanji but there is just something about this version that I love too! I mean yea he a bit less flirty and actually has a little more style, but that’s not all. I love the way this Sanji is enamored with Luffy from the beginning. From the first time they really talk he is clearly comfortable with meeting this pirate in a straw hat and talks easily with him. Jumps immediately to telling Luffy his dream, to try and help Zoro at the cry from help from Luffy, and the offer Sanji makes to try and cheer Luffy up about Zoro where he will make anything for him if he only asks is so cute.

Sanji’s little smile in episode 6 after asking why Luffy would help defend the Baratie and Luffy just says “You fed us”… it’s perfect. In that moment, I think Sanji fell at least a little more in love with Luffy (platonic or romantic, I don’t really care how it’s viewed but love grew). And then his little smile when he asks about them needing a cook so he could join 🥲 it’s just so cute.

And his interactions with them all is just like he took on the role of older brother. I saw someone mention this before so it’s not like I’m the only one thinking it. In episode 7, the patience Sanji shows in talking to Luffy while fishing shows just how kind he is. And he is incredibly gentle when he leads the conversation o what Luffy is actually needing to talk about. And again when he traded a meal for time to speak with Nojiko, Sanji gives this soft look towards Luffy before gently steering the conversation to ask about Nami.

And even when Sanji sees that Buggy is making Usopp uncomfortable, he immediately sets out to silence him and makes a joke to try and calm Usopp down.

And in episode 8, even the usual Sanji - Zoro fighting only illustrates his kindness more, at least in this instance. During the fight against the Arlong Pirates, when Zoro looks like he is in pain from his injury, Sanji needles him to check on him.

He’s just so achingly kind! And I love him! Taz Skylar does an amazing job and I can only hope that he (and all the others) stay on with the live action for as long as it runs.

Edit: I can’t believe I forgot to mention his cuteness when he tells Luffy about the barrel idea!! He was so excited!

[luveline]

hello! do you think you could maybe write a james x fem!reader where he helps her calm down from a particularly bad panic attack? hyperventilating, zoning out, crying, etc? definitely not for my own personal wellbeing hahaha

James considers offering you his stress ball. It’s a palm-sized squishy rugby ball with deep grooves and splits from years of squeezing, but it does the job the same as any other. He always thinks it’s shameful that office jobs are stressful enough to require the invention of something to take your worries out on. 

He thinks it might be doubly shameful to let you sit there without asking what’s wrong. 

“Hey.” 

You raise your head to smile at him. It’s a good attempt at hiding how you’re feeling, but James already knows. “Hi.” 

Things are less frosty between you both. Honestly, James would say he likes you. Like, a lot. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I’m fine.” 

You take a steadying breath. 

“You don’t sound fine,” he says softly. He gives the office a quick survey and stands. “Come on, we’ll go sit somewhere quiet for a bit.” 

Your eyes widen. You don’t stand. 

Your breathing is too quick. James knows from experience that if you don’t get some time to yourself soon, you’re going to burst. It might be too late already. 

He takes your elbow into his hand. “Come on, it’s okay. We’re gonna take a walk.” 

Your breathing worsens by the second as James leads you out of the office. By the time you’re near the elevators, you’re struggling. Your inhales are short, shallow, and your exhales sound painful. It’s like you can’t get the air in, and when you do you can’t breathe anyways. 

“Hey,” he says, “it’s okay, angel, just take a big breath. One big breath, let’s slow down.” 

James is startled when you grab him, your face pressed hard to his shoulder. It came on so quickly, but he really does have experience in this. He’s got two best friends with a cargo hold of agonies each, and he’s learned how to take care of them. 

He finds he’d love to take care of you. There’s no reluctance there, only worry. 

“It’s okay,” James says, wrapping an arm around you lightly where you’re grabbing him. He could call you ‘angel’ again, toys with ‘sweet girl’, the s on his tongue, but it’s a little much for the moment.  He says your name instead with all the tenderness of a pet name, desperate to reassure you. “You’re okay.” 

You’re not listening, you can’t. You’ve zoned out of the present, panicked tears forced from your eyes with each harsh blink. You make a sound, a pained moan as you begin to buckle. 

James grabs you tightly. “Honey, it’s okay. It is, I promise. Take a deep breath. Just a deep breath, and we’re gonna sit down.” 

He’s sat with Remus through panic attacks that lasted long enough to consider taking him to the hospital. He has no idea what tripped you into this, but he can get you out of it eventually, with patience, and with care. James sits you down in an empty room along the hall and opens a window. He turns on the light, and he drags a chair to yours to sit almost knee to knee, taking your hand to hold.

“Can you copy me?” he asks. 

You shake your head. Your knee is jumping up and down in a hard jostle. Tears streak and drip from your cheek in jagged lines. Your panic is hot, sweat at your hairline, and it’s not pretty, but James doesn’t need it to be, he’s just desperate to make you feel better, and he’ll try every way he knows how. He takes breaths for you to copy, presses your hand to the seat to ground you, to force you to feel the starch of new tough leather on your fingertips. 

When it doesn’t work, he moves on. James doesn’t panic, it won’t help. He can imagine the fiery ache in your throat, and he’s concerned you might go light-headed, but he knows this is just panic. It’s something he can fix. 

“You’re doing so good,” he says softly, aware of the quiet in the room, your breathing the loudest echo. “But can you do something for me?” 

“James–” 

“No, I know, I know, it feels like it’s not going away, but it is. I need you to watch me, okay? Watch my arm. Watch this, angel, it’ll make sense.” 

And he begins raising and lowering his hand. He pushes it into the air, as high as his fingers can reach, and he brings it slowly to his thigh. Your eyes watch it move, at first frantic, and straying to other places, but eventually his arm begins to ache with the motion, and you’re following it diligently. He takes measured breaths as he does it. 

You copy his breathing. Your hyperventilating turns to plain crying, and then the tears come heavily but without sobbing. 

James lowers his hand. With the other, he rubs your thigh. “You did amazing, honey. You’re amazing, well done.” 

“I…” 

Your voice is hoarse. You don’t finish what you’d wanted to say. 

“Does that happen a lot?” he asks, worried it’ll start again. 

“No,” you say. James can’t tell if you're lying for his sake, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t mind if it happens again. 

He hates seeing you cry, though. “Good job,” he murmurs, rubbing your trembling leg, head ducked to be on your level, “good job, honey. You really did so well. All you have to do now is sit here and relax for a little bit.” 

“I have so much stuff to do.” 

“And I’ll help you. But right now, we’re gonna sit here.” 

You grab at his hand where it’s tracing a path. It’s definitely an overfamiliar touch, but you don’t mind, curling your fingers over the back of his palm. 

You have nothing to say. 

“Can I give you a hug?” James asks. He hopes his smile says it’s fine to not want one. 

“Please.” 

His chest aches a little. He slides his knee between yours and does the majority of the bending to hold you to him. “It’s okay,” he whispers as you take a shaky breath, his hand carving a path down your back. 

“I felt like…” 

James waits. Your voice is raw, but you’re not trembling as badly as you were. 

“I felt like I was gonna have a heart attack,” you confess. 

“I know. But you’re okay.” 

“I know,” you say with a sniffle that announces more tears. “I can’t believe I did that.” 

“You didn’t do anything. Nothing you had control over doing. Don’t think about it that way.” He pats your back. “Just try to feel better, that’s all you can do.” 

“You made me feel better, James. Thank you.” 

James hugs you. He tells you that he didn’t have much to do with it. All the hard work about panicking is the body that does it, he knows the ache of it afterwards, and he can feel your exhaustion. 

He’d let you fall asleep in his arms if that was what you needed to do, but after a while you’re okay to sit back. James leaves to get you a bottle of water from the vending machine, and when he returns you’re standing by the window and wiping your wet eyes. 

“Feeling okay?” he asks. 

You sniffle. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“Can I give you another hug?” he asks. This one being entirely for him. 

He can’t stand to see you sad. James wraps you up in a hug and sways you from side to side a couple of times. By the end of it you’re both feeling better than when your attack started, and that’s a job well done in James’ eyes. If he keeps special attention on you for the next few days, that’s his right. 

[jerzwriter]

Falling for You

Book: Open Heart (Book 3 Timeline) Pairing: Tobias Carrick x F!MC (Casey) Rating: Teen Words: 1,100 Summary: Ice skating has always been a big part of Casey's life, and for the eight months they had been together, she kept saying how much she was looking forward to doing it with Tobias. He tried to put it off as long as he could, but the day of reckoning was upon him... and panic set in. Could a quick call to his best friend, Kerry, calm his nerves? Or is Tobias about to fall flat. A/N: First and foremost, thank you to @weetlebeetle for this adorable commission of my little lovebirds. This is so precious, and I just adore it! Those of you familiar with some of my older fics may remember Kerry, Tobias's lifelong friend. Information about her and other OCs in my Tobias x Casey HC can be found here. She was instrumental in helping him and Casey get together, and she thought her work was done. Well... maybe not. lol

His fingers tapped against the coffee table, the dull thud echoing throughout his empty home. But it wasn't enough to release the nervous energy he was feeling, and before long, he was on his feet, pacing the length of the room.    

“Come on, come on! I know you’re off... answer!”

To the shock of many, Tobias Carrick had proven he could be a patient man, and it had paid off dearly, playing a big part in how he was happily coupled with the love of his life today. Casey. The mere thought of her usually brought a smile, but right now, it only amplified the fear coursing through his veins. He needed someone to help him through, and his best friend was the only one he trusted with the job. But his patience was wearing thin as he tried to reach her. About to disconnect the call, he finally heard her voice.

“T?” Kerry answered breathlessly. “What’s going on? You OK?”

“Thank God!” He exclaimed. “Where have you been?”

“At Brenda’s soccer game. I told you she was playing today.”

“Ah! That’s right,” he said, smacking his head. “I forgot; why don’t you get back to her.”

“Because after ten missed calls and as many texts saying ‘CALL ME,’ I assume you have something important going on. So, spill.”

Tobias fell back onto the couch with a sigh.  

“I have a big problem... I... I have a date tonight.”

“A date?” Kerry asked quizzically. “What’s so terrible about...” her face fell as she went silent, fearing the worst. “Tobias Charles Carrick... please tell me your date isn’t with someone other than Casey, because if it is, I swear to God I’m going to drive to Boston and kick your ass.”  

“What!” He gasped. “No! Don’t be ridiculous! Of course my date’s with Casey.”

“Good!” she said with relief. “But then what’s the drama? You have a date with your girlfriend, so?”

“Yeah, well... it’s an ice skating date.”

The line went silent again, then Kerry burst into a full belly laugh... not exactly the support or sympathy Tobias was seeking.

“That’s nice! Laugh it up! You won’t be laughing when I make a total ass out of myself, and she dumps me. I’m not stupid. I know you like her better than me.”

“Well, that goes without saying,” Kerry teased while wiping a tear from her eye. “She’s far more likable than you. But what the hell possessed you to go on a skating date?”

He ran his hand down his face with another weary sigh. “Obviously, it wasn’t my idea. But Casey loves skating, and she’s good, really good. Like almost did it competitively when she was younger, good. And I’m....”

“Far more suited for a basketball court. Not gonna lie, T, you suck at ice skating.”

“Thank you.”

“What? I’m just stating facts. The time we went skating on Mr. Belmont’s pond remains one of my most horrifying childhood memories. I thought for sure we were going to lose you that day; little did I know you’d end up sending your brother to the emergency room instead.”

“Hey! In my defense, if that idiot hadn’t been trying to make me fall, he wouldn’t have ended up with my skate blade in his thigh.”

“Jordan can’t help being obnoxious," Kerry laughed. "It’s a Carrick family trait.”

“All well and good, but the last thing I want to do is impale Casey tonight."

"Really?" Kerry chided. "And here I thought that was usually your goal?"

"Very funny, Ker. I'm being serious here! I don’t want her realizing the error of her ways and kicking me to the curb.”

“For the love of God, Tobias... do you hear yourself? Do you think you may be exaggerating just a little? It’s ice skating. Take a deep breath, and just go and have fun.”

“But what if I fall on my face?”

“So what if you do? That’s part of what makes it fun. Just relax and enjoy the time together. Knowing Casey, she’d probably find you falling all over the ice endearing.”

“You think so?”

“YES! As hard as it is to believe, she loves you for you... not your ability to qualify for the 2026 Winter Olympics.”

“You’re right,” he surrendered, his heart feeling lighter.

“I usually am. Now, just go and have fun. Let me know how it went later.”

Buoyed by Kerry’s words, Tobias set off for his date, and just hours later, they sat at the side of a beautiful rink just outside of Boston. Casey grinned from ear to ear as she laced up her skates, oblivious to her boyfriend’s inner turmoil.

“I’m so excited,” she beamed. “I’ve been waiting to do this with you since we started dating! I love sharing the things I love with you."

“Yeah,” he chuckled nervously. “I do, too.”   He pulled the laces tightly around his ankle, hoping against hope that a skate malfunction would spare him, but when he realized that wasn’t to be, he took her hand to confess. “Case... I’ve gotta tell you something.”

“Sure,” she smiled. “What’s up?”

“I... I kind of suck at this. I haven’t gone skating since I was twelve years old, and that time, I sent Jordan to the ER.”

Casey’s eyes widened, "You did?" she asked, her melodious laugh filled the air. She placed her gloved hands on his frigid cheeks and pulled him in for a tender kiss.

“Tobias, skating skills really aren’t high up on my list of traits I find desirable in my partner. Let’s just go and have fun, baby. That’s all I want to do.”

They took to the ice hand-in-hand, and while Tobias stumbled and fell throughout the afternoon, he wasn’t embarrassed. Instead, they laughed, teased, and shared a whole lot of kisses. He felt foolish for worrying so much, and the date served as a reminder that the best memories are those made when we let go of fears and enjoy time with the ones we love.

Hours later, they were toasty warm in his car as they headed back to Boston. Smiling as she recalled the day, Casey rested her head on his shoulder.

“That wasn’t so bad after all, was it?” she smiled.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Still, I don’t think it’s something you’ll want to do too often,” she grinned.

“But you love skating,” he replied. “And if you love it, then I’ll love going with you.”

“You don’t have to,” she assured. “There are plenty of other things I love doing with you. I got you on skates once; that's all that matters.”

As she said that, a little lightbulb went off Tobias’s head, and a tiny grin came to his lips. “Yeah.  At least we got to do it once.”

~~~~~

A/N 2: Tobias recalls that he knows someone else who skates really well... and right now, his wheels are spinning. More to come! :)

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @choicesholidays (solely because it's winter-themed! :)

[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 24: My Heart I Surrender

(Are they finally going to confess? ❤️)

I have a thought of you for every star in the sky.

“My Heart I Surrender” ~ I Prevail

The clock blinked 2:00 a.m., its red numbers glowing like eyes from the nightstand. Hikari lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, her mind too restless for sleep. The events of the last few weeks replayed in her mind on an endless loop—Kensho’s ambush, the battle at the factory, Ryusei’s departure. Her body still ached from the deepest, darkest bruises she’d collected, but it wasn’t just physical exhaustion that kept her awake.

With a sigh, she shoved her blanket aside. Why is it always 2 a.m.?

She grabbed her hoodie and slipped on her shoes, the motion automatic, more muscle memory than conscious decision. She needed air, space to think—anything to clear her head. Sliding the window open, she climbed down the fire escape, the cool night breeze brushing against her face as she made her way down.

She glanced up at Keisuke's dark window. Usually, she would end up going to him, but he was just as worn out as she was. No, let him rest, she thought, turning towards the sidewalk.

The city felt muted at this hour. Only the occasional passing car broke the quiet. Hikari’s footsteps were soft against the pavement as she walked toward the konbini a few blocks away. She just wanted a snack and a walk to help reset her thoughts.

As she rounded the corner, the glow of the streetlamp illuminated five figures huddled nearby. Oh, for the love of fuck... Hikari sighed inwardly, immediately recognizing them—the old bullies from her first day of school in Tokyo. Of all the nights, why this one? Goddammit.

She pulled her hood up over her head and kept her face down, hoping to pass by unnoticed. She really, really wasn’t in the mood for this shit at two in the morning.

But, of course, they noticed her. Of course they did.

“Well, well, look who it is,” sneered the leader. “Skunk Girl. Long time, no see.”

Hikari’s hands clenched into fists inside her hoodie. She could already feel her patience thinning, irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. She rolled her eyes and kept walking, ignoring the familiar taunt. But the leader wasn’t about to let her go so easily.

“Oh, so you're just gonna walk right past us, huh?” he jeered, stepping closer. “Like you’re something special. Like you don't got time for old friends like us.”

“I don't,” she replied flatly. All she wanted was a strawberry milk. Not any of this nonsense.

“Still just as sassy, huh? I'd be careful if I were you,” he leaned closer, his tone threatening. “You're out here all by yourself.”

Another one chimed in, emboldened by the group. “Yeah, where’s your little boyfriend now, huh?”

Her nostrils flared and her jaw tightened. She'd had enough. But before she could respond, a voice—calm and unbothered—cut through the tension.

“I’m right here.”

The leader froze, and the group fell silent, their expressions shifting as they turned toward the voice.

Baji stepped out of the shadows, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, his posture relaxed but radiating menace. His eyes glinted with that familiar dangerous edge, the one that made people think twice before crossing him. He glanced at the leader with quiet disdain, like a predator sizing up its prey.

“What’s the matter?” Baji asked, his voice low and teasing, though there was nothing playful about his stance. “Didn’t hear me?”

The leader’s bravado faltered, hardly believing this was the same scrappy kid who kicked their asses before. “Who the hell—”

But he never got the chance to finish.

Baji moved in a blur—fast, precise. His fist connected with the leader’s jaw, sending him crashing to the pavement with a heavy thud. The rest of the group barely had time to react before Baji was on them, each punch landing with brutal efficiency. The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed in the quiet night, punctuated by grunts and groans.

Within moments, the five were left sprawled on the ground, groaning and clutching their sides. Baji stood over them, his expression as calm as ever, like he’d just taken out the trash.

“I warned you,” Baji said, his voice cold and steady. “I told you not to mess with her again. Didn’t I?”

The leader, struggling to lift his head, winced in pain. “Who the hell are you?” he muttered, fear thick in his voice.

Baji’s smirk widened, but there was no warmth in it—only a dangerous gleam. “Baji Keisuke,” he said, his tone carrying the weight of a death sentence. “First Division Captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang.”

The name hung in the air like a death knell. The bullies’ eyes widened in terror. Toman. Without another word, they scrambled to their feet, bruised and battered, but driven by pure fear. They fled into the night, desperate to get as far away from Baji as possible.

The street fell silent again, the soft buzzing of the konbini’s lights were the only sound. Baji stood there, his fists still clenched, though his breathing was calm and even.

Hikari hadn’t moved. She stood a few steps away, watching him, her hands still in her hoodie pocket. The way he handled it—so calm, so confident—she felt instant relief, like a weight had been lifted from her chest.

“I told you,” he said, turning to face her, his voice softer now. “I’ve got you.”

The city streets were quiet under the blanket of night, the air cool but still, as if the world itself was holding its breath. His steps were steady beside her, the soft sound of their shoes tapping against the pavement in sync. His hand rested on her shoulder—a familiar, comforting weight.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice calmer now, though a protective edge still lingered beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” she replied, her pulse slowly settling after the adrenaline of the encounter. The relief of having him by her side was undeniable. “I’m fine.”

His brow furrowed slightly, his grip tightening on her shoulder, a mix of protectiveness and frustration. “What the hell were you thinking? Walking around this late by yourself?”

She hesitated for a moment, her fingers tightening in the pocket of her hoodie. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, her voice soft. “And I wanted a strawberry milk.”

He let out a scoff, but there was no real anger in it. He pulled her a little closer as they walked, his tone half-scolding, half-gentle. “You should’ve come over. I would've gone with you. Don’t do stupid stuff like this alone.”

She looked up at him, a small smile curving her lips. “I didn't want to bug you. I can handle a walk by myself, you know.”

“Yeah, well, clearly.” He shot her a look, his teasing softened by the lingering concern in his eyes. “Next time, just wake me up. It’s not that hard.”

Her smile grew a little wider, but she didn’t argue. The way he said it—so matter-of-factly, like it was obvious she should rely on him—was a reminder of the bond they shared. The silence that followed was comfortable, the night around them quiet except for the occasional sound of a car passing or a dog barking.

After a few minutes, she glanced up at him, curiosity getting the better of her. “So… back there,” she started, her voice casual but with a playful edge. “You said you were my boyfriend.”

He raised an eyebrow, not breaking stride, but his expression shifted slightly. “Yeah? So what?”

She tilted her head, the playful tone in her voice more apparent now. “Why’d you say that?”

He hesitated, letting out a slow breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low, as if he were still figuring it out himself. “Guess it felt right. I mean… I might as well be, don’t you think?”

Her heart skipped a beat, her gaze sharp as she watched his face. There was something deeper in his tone—something he wasn’t fully saying. She nudged him lightly, trying to keep the moment light even as her pulse quickened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He kept his eyes forward, but his grip on her shoulder tightened slightly. “We’re always together, right? You’re important to me, more than anyone. And I’m always here for you. Doesn’t that pretty much make me your boyfriend?”

She blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. Her mind raced to keep up with the shift in the conversation, her heart pounding in her chest. “I mean… yeah, I guess it does,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady. She could feel the weight of his words settling between them, turning the air heavy with unspoken meaning.

He stopped walking, turning to face her fully now. His dark eyes were serious, but there was a hint of something vulnerable beneath the surface. “Is that something you want?” His voice was quieter now, the intensity in his gaze making her heart flutter.

She hadn’t expected the conversation to turn this way, but now that it had, the answer was easy. She smiled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “What if I said yes?”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at her, the realization sinking in. His lips twitched into a small, relieved smile. “Then I guess that’s what I am now.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, a familiar playfulness creeping back into her tone. “Took you long enough to figure it out,” she teased, nudging him lightly. “Remember the festival a few years ago? I told you I was going to marry you when we grew up.”

He blinked, his heart stuttering at the memory. “Yeah, I remember,” he said slowly. “You were just joking, though. Right?”

She shook her head, her smile soft but steady. “Nope. I meant it.”

His eyes widened slightly, his breath catching in his throat. “Wait, seriously? You meant it?”

“Yeah,” she said, her tone light but sincere. “I’ve been waiting for you to catch on.”

For a moment, he just stared at her, his mind spinning as the realization hit him with full force. All this time, the teasing, the friendship, the unspoken feelings—“You mean to tell me we’ve been dancing around each other this whole damn time?” he asked, disbelief coloring his voice.

She laughed, the sound soft but bright, filled with the same nervous energy that fluttered in her chest. “Sure looks that way.”

He let out a slow breath, stepping closer to her, his hand reaching up to gently tilt her chin so their eyes met. His heart raced in his chest, but for once, he didn’t try to hide it. “Well, then,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the quiet of the night. “Guess we’ve got some catching up to do.”

Before Hikari could respond, he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that was soft, tentative at first, but filled with all the feelings they’d been hiding for years. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them, suspended in the quiet warmth of the moment.

When their lips finally parted, he rested his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the cool night air. Hikari smiled softly, her heart still racing, but for the first time, there was no more confusion—only certainty.

“Told you I wasn’t joking,” she whispered, her voice playful but filled with truth.

He chuckled, his tension finally easing as he smiled back at her. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Guess you did.”

He pulled back slightly, his breath still warm against her lips. When their eyes met again, there was a softness in his gaze that hadn’t been there before—a quiet warmth, something that felt like relief and understanding all at once.

For a moment, they simply stood there, the quiet of the night settling around them, the tension and uncertainty finally replaced by the steady thrum of something new, something solid and certain.

Her heart fluttered, her cheeks still warm under his gaze, but even as the thrill of the kiss lingered, there was something else she wanted. Something quiet and familiar. It wasn’t about more words or declarations—it was about being close to him, in the way she always had been, but now with a deeper certainty.

“Keisuke?” she whispered softly, her hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

“Yeah?” His voice was softer now, the usual edge smoothed by a gentleness he rarely let anyone else see. The pulse under her hand was strong, calm, a rhythm that steadied her own.

She hesitated, just for a moment, before letting her thoughts spill out. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but there was no misunderstanding. She wasn’t asking for more than they already had—she just wanted him there, beside her, like always. His presence, his warmth. The safety she felt when she was with him, but now with the quiet knowledge that they both felt it.

“I sleep better when you’re with me,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper, but heavy with meaning.

A soft smile formed on his lips. He remembered those nights—when she’d come to his window after a bad dream and end up nestled beside him, finding peace in the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle. “Of course.”

They didn’t need to say anything else. The understanding between them was complete, comfortable in its simplicity. Together, they made their way back to her apartment, slipping through the window into her room as the night wrapped around them like a quiet cocoon.

She led him through the window and back into her room, the familiar space welcoming them both with its soft, muted comfort. She kicked off her shoes and peeled off her hoodie, letting it drop to the floor as she crawled into bed, folding the covers back to make space for him.

He stood at the edge for a moment, his gaze flicking between the bed and Hikari’s expectant expression. She raised an eyebrow, her tone half-teasing, half-impatient. “Keisuke, you’ve done this a hundred times. Get your ass in here already.”

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head as he kicked off his shoes and slid in beside her. The familiar ease of it settled over them both as she scooted closer, her head naturally resting against his chest, her body fitting along his side. His arm wrapped around her without a second thought, pulling her close.

“This is better,” she murmured, her fingers tracing lazy little patterns across his chest, the soft intimacy lulling her into drowsiness. It wasn’t just about the kiss—it was about the comfort of knowing that, after everything, they would always end up here. Together.

He hummed in agreement, his hand resting lightly on her back, feeling her warmth seep into him. His heart was still racing from the kiss, from the shift in their relationship, but there was also a calmness in everything finally having settled into its rightful place.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Hikari shifted again, nestling even closer. “I really do sleep better with you,” she whispered, her voice soft, already thick with the pull of sleep.

His hand moved to her hair, stroking it lightly, his touch soothing. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Her voice was barely audible now, almost lost in the quiet of the room. “Because… I feel safe with you,” she murmured, her words simple but carrying the weight of everything she felt for him. “Like nothing bad can happen when you’re here.”

His heart tightened, a warmth blooming in his chest. He let her words settle over him, wrapping around him with the same comfort he knew he gave her. For a guy who’d spent so much of his life fighting, the realization that he could be someone’s safe place—it made him feel stronger, and softer, all at once.

He didn’t reply right away, just kept running his fingers through her hair, letting the silence settle around them, filling in all the spaces they didn’t need to name.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured finally, his voice a low whisper. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiled softly against his chest, her breath evening out as sleep claimed her. He stayed awake a little longer, listening to the gentle rhythm of her breath, letting his own heartbeat slow to match it. The night outside was quiet, the city’s hum distant, like a lullaby carrying them into dreams.

He tightened his arm around her, his eyes drifting shut as he let himself relax. And as he fell asleep, he knew with a certainty he hadn’t felt before—this was where he belonged. Right here, beside her.

[rogueshadeaux]

Chapter Thirty —  Infamous

“Well, sometimes if you have someone listen to something they haven’t heard before, they might notice something you didn’t.” Zeke patted the top of a sealed ammo case. “Gain a new perspective. I have a buncha dead drops I’m gonna have to listen to, and I need a conduit’s opinion.” 

5k words | 20 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: more goddamn lore and links (i love you guys but it's messy work /s), references to death, disease, catastrophe.

Zeke eventually came back as we finished organizing the papers, taking a moment to crack his neck before looking down at us. “Y’all look about done,” he commented. 

Brent nodded. “Nearly, but I don’t think there’s anything here that’ll help.”

I couldn’t help but agree. There was a ton on Celia taking out less-than-desirable people, and while I wasn’t sure yet how to feel about the death of those guys, I knew it wasn’t enough to lead us anywhere. 

“Yeah, that’s how it goes sometimes,” Zeke sighed, moving back into the kitchen. “But keep an eye out and an open mind — sometimes things connect in ways you weren’t expecting. Now, your pops is making a call, trying to connect with someone that might have some old info we passed to her years ago. I’m sure when he comes back he’ll go over everything y’all found and see if something stands out.”

I stood, grabbing the little empty mug of coffee and moving to the kitchen with the intention of getting some water, letting the stream run over my hand for a few seconds to take in that peaceful feeling that always came with draining. I screwed my eyes shut and tried to let the calm wash over the anxiety in my chest — and nearly screamed as it jump started my heart and sent it soaring when I opened my eyes to see Zeke standing inches away on my side, arms crossed. 

“You good?” He asked me. 

Other than nearly having a heart attack because he snuck up on me? “I’m…okay.” I answered. “Just worried. What if all of this is useless, you know?”

“We’re just covering our bases, kid.” He said heartedly. Cheerfully. Way too happily for it still being nine in the morning. “We find nothing here, we’ll just go lookin’ somewhere else. Now,” he raised his voice a bit so it would flow over to Brent, turning so he could regard us both in his sight. “If y’all are done with those files, I could use some fresh ears on some things I have.” 

Brent cocked his head a bit, glancing between Zeke and I. “What do you mean?”

“Well, sometimes if you have someone listen to something they haven’t heard before, they might notice something you didn’t.” Zeke patted the top of a sealed ammo case. “Gain a new perspective. I have a buncha dead drops I’m gonna have to listen to, and I need a conduit’s opinion.” 

“You want…our help?” I asked. 

“Why not?” Zeke shrugged. “Figured it’s the best crash course for y’all — you’ve gotta learn what really happened with the Beast and First Sons and all that, anyways. Figure it’d be better to have sources.” 

So we started helping set up Zeke’s desk, moving piles of papers and magazines Zeke threw his hand over and insisted were nothing to make room for this weird little device he seemed to pull out of thin air. “What’s that for?” Brent asked, somehow managing to hold a printer like it was a weightless purse. 

“This? Just a little doohickey I made to listen to the dead drops. It’s either this, or I hunt down equipment that’s older than y’all two — and I’m not usually lucky in bidding wars on eBay.” 

“You made this?” Brent balked. Excitement quickly overtook his eyes, and I knew he was about to demand to know everything about the gadget as he soaked in the ingenuity. He’d be an inventor if he had the patience to fail.

I let the two ramble on about technical words that escaped me as I finished cleaning off Zeke’s desk, grabbing the ammo case he had brought over and opening it. There was a dank smell that wasn’t at all pleasant, the dozens of little chips in it settling with the same sound LEGOs in a bin did. When there was a lull in conversation, I looked to Zeke, asking, “Why haven’t you uploaded these to a cloud or something? It would make storing them easier.” And it would smell less like swamp, too. 

Zeke, though, scoffed. “What, put them online where anyone could claim them? Where the government probably has a backdoor and could delete ‘em for good? Absolutely not.”

He turned to hook the device up to the computer, giving Brent the chance to look at me and shrug. 

Dad came into the room just as Zeke finished hooking up the device, and looked between the three of us. “I’m gonna go talk to Eugene, and then I’ll be back down here to help.” He glanced at the papers on the ground. “You guys organize everything?”

We both nodded. “There’s one pile of random stuff I couldn’t really link together, but yeah,” Brent added.

Dad hummed. His eyes breezed over the room but didn’t really seem to settle on any one thing. “Alright, I’ll be right back,”

He disappeared from the room as quickly as he came. 

“He seems distracted,” Brent muttered to me. 

“Hopefully in a good way,” I added. 

“Hopefully in a way that gets us more food. I’m starving.”

“You just ate!”

“Yeah — eggs.” Brent complained in a whisper. “You think that’s enough?"

I shot him a glare just before Zeke turned back around. “Alright, I think the thing’s set up. Pass me a chip, Jean?”

I nodded, grabbing one randomly and laying it in Zeke’s outstretched hand. “You’re sure this will work?”

“Well,” he popped his mouth as he inserted the chip and opened something on his computer. “It either works or explodes.”

“Explodes?”

“Yeah. So you two might wanna step back for a moment till we know which is which,”

Brent and I listened without another word, moving into the living room. I couldn’t help but notice how Brent stood in front of me, arm twitching like it was ready to grow a shield as Zeke finished pressing some buttons and breathed deeply before switching the machine on, flinching as he did so. 

No big boom came, though; there was a shrill trill of static, a sort of vibrating tone like it was calibrating, and then the most shocking noise — a British voice. 

“Audio report. Final.” The British voice says on the recording in between bursts of loud bangs. “The door won't hold them. I've done what I could to reverse the damage I've unleashed on the world. After Bertrand took control of the First Sons, I chose to stay on and I committed further acts of horror up under his twisted leadership. His resources allowed me to finish the RFI. That is all that matters. My God, I hope it works.” There’s another loud bang, loud enough to make me jump in place. “I hope it exceeds my wildest expectations and put an end to the Plague—”

There was this huge screeching sound as metal itself was broken, clinking against the floor.

“Forgive me Kuo,”  the voice rushes to say, “I wish I could've warned you—” 

It cut off as the sound of a chair scraping against the floor raked through the static, and then there were punches. That same British voice huffed out in pain until the recording became muffled and then forcefully turned off.

We both stayed silent as Zeke seemed triumphant with the success of the device. “Who was that?” Brent eventually asked, the first to shake off the stupor of what we just heard. 

“Sebastian Wolfe,” Zeke explains, turning his chair slightly so we were in his eyesight. “He was one of the head First Sons scientists.”

“He was trying to end the plague?” I asked. 

Zeke leaned back in his chair, biting on his tongue for a moment. “He…he was. Or, did,” He began. “That’s what the RFI was for,”

“What’s an RFI?” Brent asked. 

Zeke didn’t get to answer; Dad was coming back down the stairs, standing at the foot of them and leaning against the frame of the stairwell. “It’s what stopped the Beast.”

I cocked my head to the side, looking between Dad and Zeke. “I thought…I thought Cole defeated the Beast?”

“He did,” Zeke rushed to say. “He did. But it wasn’t like in the stories where David knocks down Goliath and wins. He had to make a hard choice.”

“The RFI purged ray field energy.” Dad took over. “Cleared it, and that included what was in the magnetic field at the time. Taking it away killed the Beast, but it’s also why almost every conduit died. None of us can survive without it.”

“So that’s….that’s what the mass death was?” I asked. “People said it was because of the Beast dying—”

Dad scoffed, sounding rather annoyed at the idea. “We aren’t minions to something bigger,” He said. “It’s not like we can’t survive without the Beast. Obviously we can — he’s gone. But think about it for a second; if the truth was told, and everyone knew there was a device to kill Conduits — you think there wouldn’t be certain people trying to use it?”

Brent and I glanced at each other; no, it was very likely there would be someone trying to remake the device. And I didn’t like that idea at all. 

“I’ve been hiding the notes on the RFI for years so that no one would have that sorta power,” Zeke said. “It didn’t work the first time — it just caused pain. I don’t want it to cause any more.”

My brow knit, and I realized something; the Beast happened in 2011. But Dad…Dad was older than that. “Dad?” I asked. He looked at me, raising an eyebrow in a silent prod to continue. “How did…how did you survive?”

Dad rubs the scruff on his chin. “Don’t know. None of us do.”

“Everyone’s been wondering since they started comin’ back,” Zeke said. “Or, when some didn’t die. It was supposed to work.”

“It was supposed to kill Conduits.” Brent said flatly beside me. “That sounds more like genocide than saving.”

Zeke looked over at Brent with a surprising fire in his eyes. “It would have killed either way. You know how many people would have died if Cole didn’t use the RFI? The plague wasn’t just killing regular humans, kid—anyone with the plague was dying. Conduits included.”

“Inactivated Conduits,” Dad corrected. “Which means I would have died, too, if I caught it.”

Brent had the foresight to at least look remorseful at the fact. “So if you weren’t activated or had the gene, you were just fucked?”

“Brent—”

“C’mon, Dad—”

Zeke interrupted. “Yep. No powers…no survival.”

That silenced the room. No powers, no survival. Cole was literally stuck having to choose between the needs of the many, or the needs of the few—there were even less Conduits then than there were now. Imagine killing off the entire population just to save, like, 7% of it. 

I couldn’t imagine how he felt making that choice, no matter how right it was. 

Zeke eventually sighed, saying, “Hand me another chip, please.”

I nodded, looking down at the case in my hand and picking one at random. Zeke took it from my outstretched hand and wiped down its surface with the hem of his shirt. He takes a deliberate amount of time hooking it up to the device, long enough that Dad leaves to look at the files Brent and I organized and Brent moves to sit back on the couch. 

There was another harsh burst of static before the audio of the next file came through. “Audio surveillance file X76,” that same British guy, Wolfe, said. “Meeting with John White and Lucy Kuo.”

“I wanted to, eh,” a really deep and really grainy voice came on the speaker, “Advise you of a recent incident. Kessler’s plan is unclear to me, so I’ll just stick to the facts: Kessler kidnapped MacGrath’s girlfriend, Trish, and dangled her off of a rooftop.”

“Holy shit,” Brent murmured as my hand came over my mouth. 

“He said MacGrath had time to save her. But there was another rooftop with six doctors about to die. MacGrath had to choose.”

Dad shook his head from his place on the floor. Cole had to choose between six innocent people and his girlfriend? That had to be horrible!

A feminine voice, clean and disgusted, simply said, “Sick!” while Wolfe responded with “Madness!” in his best impression of an aghast 1800s European settler. 

That grainy deep voice came back on. “He…tried to save his girlfriend. I dunno, maybe he was selfish, but…” he inhaled deep enough for the recording to catch it, “I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same.” Then he scoffed. “Kessler killed them all anyway.”

“Of course,” the feminine voice muttered. 

“Evidently he wanted to toughen up MacGrath before the Beast arrives.” The deep voice said. “And who knows — maybe he succeeded. MacGrath definitely seems tougher than I’ve ever seen him.”

The dead drop beeped, signaling its end and leaving us all with so many questions. 

“Who was Kessler?” I asked first before anyone else could speak. 

Zeke sighed, rubbing a hand over his eye like it was too early for a conversation like this. Maybe it was. “He was the leader of the First Sons.” Zeke started. “Took over the position from some guy he overthrew, I forget his name. Robert? I dunno. I know his son’s name was Alden Tate,” Zeke paused, turning his chair to face all of us. “Kessler wanted Cole to be the one to fight the Beast.”

“So he killed his girlfriend to get him to do it?” Brent asked, incredulous.

“It was about the choice,” Dad realized from the side. “Be selfish, or worry about the greater good.”

Zeke nodded. “And he picked the wrong answer. They all died.”

“How is saving your girlfriend the wrong answer?” Brent demanded. 

I ran a finger along the texture of my cast. “It isn’t exactly caring about the greater good…” I murmured. “The doctors probably…they would have been a lot more helpful in Empire City, if it was as bad as Zeke says.”

Brent glared at me. “So you’d sacrifice someone for that? If it was me or Dad or—”

“I didn’t say I would!” I shot back, rolling my eyes. Brent could be so short-sighted, it was annoying.

“Guys,” Dad said off on the side, glaring at us both pointedly. His eyes flicked over to Zeke, who looked like he was going through the five stages of grief as fast as he possibly could. 

“He was going to propose to Trish, later that year,” Zeke said, more to himself than anyone. “He wasn’t…he didn’t want to lose that. It had broken him.”

I think it would have broken anyone. 

“Was that the idea?” Dad asked Zeke. “Make him get used to making those hard choices?”

Zeke nodded. “Yeah. That’s what Kessler told him, anyway. He needed someone that would be able to make the decision, in the end. That could fight the Beast and have nothing to lose.”

“That’s messed up,” Brent uttered. “He basically groomed MacGrath.”

“Messed up ain’t even the half of it, kid.” Zeke said. He sighed hard, and then motioned silently for me to give him another dead drop. 

Wolfe’s voice crackled on. “Audio surveillance of Agent John White, file D102.”

That same deep voice was back, but crystal clear this time. That must be the guy, John White. “I was carrying the Ray Sphere out of the lab when Kessler stopped me. It was...it was strange. He said that I had an important destiny, that I'd accomplish great things.”

Wolfe hummed. “I used to be a skeptic, but many of his predictions actually do come true.”

The guy, John, hesitated to answer. “I don’t know…the way he looked at me? Made me want him to be wrong.”

The dead drop ended there, the most useless one so far. 

At least, I thought so. Dad, however, felt otherwise. “Who was John White?” He asked Zeke. 

Zeke hesitated. “He, uh…he was an NSA agent. Him and Kuo, they were both supposed to infiltrate the First Sons and get more information on them.”

Dad’s brow furrowed. “I thought…I thought that the government funded the First Sons?” 

Zeke threw his head side to side as he tried to figure out how to explain this to Dad. “Well, yes, but they didn’t know they were. The woman in charge of DARPA at the time had a deal with Kessler on the side. You know, under the table, ‘you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours’ sorta stuff. She knew of the First Sons because of their investigations, and then she found out about the Ray Sphere.”

Dad scoffed. “Hear about some magic eight ball that can give you powers, and of course you’ll be interested.”

“Exactly.”

“But why would Kessler think that this White guy was important?” Brent asked from the side. “What, could he see into the future or something?”

Zeke didn't answer that immediately. His eyes sorta traveled off like Dad’s always did when talking about his past, when he was reliving memories that left bad tastes in his mouth, and he inhaled deeply. “John helped us in Empire City, during the quarantine. He tracked down the Ray Sphere and him and Cole destroyed it.”

After a breath, Zeke added. “It also killed him. At least, we thought it did.”

A shadow seemed to come over Zeke’s face, and from where I was, I could see the grip he had on the arm of his chair tighten. “What happened?” I asked softly. 

Zeke’s next breath was a bit shuddered. “It activated him. John was the Beast.”

“Oh, shit.” Dad murmured. Brent was too shocked to throw in his own curse words. "So Kessler made the Beast,” Dad scoffed. “Glad to know the First Sons have been the root of every problem.”

“None of this makes sense,” Brent murmured, head in his hands. 

I couldn’t help but agree with Brent; my mind was reeling. Not only was there some group with science advanced enough to activate Conduits, but they managed to make the Beast. They created the creature that killed millions and practically turned the east coast into a wasteland. 

Zeke had us listen to more dead drops, explaining things along the way; Kuo was another agent tasked with collecting intel at the New Marais First Sons’ base, and Dr. Wolfe was recording these dead drops behind both her and John White’s backs to send to the NSA so they could make sure there was no backstabbing going on. Other recordings featured Joseph Bertrand III, the guy I knew from our history books as the Alt. Right businessman-turned-politician that people contributed with starting the ‘small government’ movement that led to his easy fascist takeover in New Marais. Apparently racist rhetoric and anti…well, anything he deemed sinful wasn’t enough, because he was the head of the First Sons’ New Marais base as well, in search of power. He took the First Sons’ assets the moment Kessler died and used everything to fund his fascist army, the Militia, passing Dr. Wolfe human test subjects to play with along the way. 

Those test subjects are what caught Dad’s attention, especially as Dr. Wolfe recorded himself speaking to one. 

“I paid a visit to the First Sons' dorms where the Vermaak men were housed.” Dr. Wolfe said into the mic. “Subject 881 approached me and we took a walk. The recording follows.”

“You seem…” the accented voice hesitated. “Agitated, Doctor.”

“I figured out what Bertrand has in store for you. He's going to use the Transfer Device, isn't he?” Dr. Wolfe demanded. 

881 sighed. “Sorry, you know I can't say.”

Wolfe wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Do you know who the Conduit is?” he demanded. 

“I just... can't comment on this.” 881 talked over him, and I could only imagine the head shake that came with it.

Dr. Wolfe switched to pleading, saying, “You need to know something. The transfer procedure was never designed to split abilities among multiple recipients. I don't know what it will do.”

“You…” 881 drew off, “Just got my attention.”

Dr. Wolfe continued, “Theoretically you'll all be ‘over-clocked,’ so to speak. You'll receive a portion of the true Conduit's power but your body will wear itself out trying to sustain it! You may go insane.”

There was a pause, and then the Vermaak soldier asked, “Why are you telling me this, Doctor? Bertrand, he wouldn't like it.”

Dr. Wolfe sighs hard. “I'm not a brave man, but if I'm right and you and your men lose control, then I'll have far more to fear from you than Bertrand.”

“Did he…” Dad asked the moment the dead drop beeped, signaling its end. “Did he say the Vermaak?” 

“Yep.” Zeke swiveled in his chair to face Dad. “Bertrand took out a contract with this private military group and used those guys to make Conduit soldiers. He planned to sell ‘em overseas.”

“I know that name.” Dad hums. “Vermaak 88. They were like some version of green berets from Africa, I think. Reggie worked with them on his tour in Iraq. They were…pretty ruthless, from what he told me when he came back.” 

“Yeah, that’s why Bertrand hired them originally — for protection,” Zeke hummed, already digging in the ammo crate for another chip he deemed worthy enough to listen to. “At least, that’s what everyone thought. Turns out, he was being paid under the table to make superhuman soldiers for a buncha war lords.”

“So he was hired, not the other way around?” I asked, Zeke nodding in response.

“Yep. Only guy in the world that had a power transfer device before Brookie and her government funding walked into the picture.” Zeke held up a chip, examining it close. “One on one, the transfer worked damn near flawlessly. Cole only was out for about four minutes when he did it—”

“Woah, wait,” Brent hummed, holding out a hand to pause Zeke’s tangent. “Cole was a forced Conduit?” 

Zeke let the hand holding up the chip fall, chuckling a bit. “No, no — well, if you don’t count the Ray Sphere as forced. Jury’s still out on that one. But Cole had gotten another power from someone. Kuo, actually.”

Dad’s head tilted slightly. “You mean…he had more than one power?” he asked, eyes betraying how much the statement confused him. I couldn’t blame him; there wasn’t any other Conduit I knew that had more than one power. Anyone but him.

Zeke seemed to realize this as well, saying, “Yeah — he wasn’t as strong in the other power as his electricity, but he could use both on a whim. Sometimes even combined the two, that was always cool to see.”

Dad’s confusion grew, and something else played in his eyes: betrayal, maybe? “He could use both at the same time?” Dad asked, almost disbelieving. 

Zeke nodded. “Yep. Sorta together, more than anything. Like he needed some of his electricity to work the power.”

Brent’s brow furrowed. “That’s nothing like how you do it,” he muttered, looking at the floor before glancing up at Dad.

Dad’s eyes were now off of Zeke and facing the wall, boring a hole into the wood as he chewed on his cheek. “It’s not.” He agreed, seeming to hate the fact that he did. He glared at the grain a bit longer, like the patterns would shift and give him the answers to his unasked questions, before slightly shaking his head, refocusing on Zeke. “He used a power transfer device for that? Like the one Augustine had?”

Zeke nodded. “Well, similar. Couldn’t tell you what the old one was like, considering it blew up before anyone else got a chance to play with it. I wasn’t even there when Cole hooked himself up to it.”

“So he was the only one to use it?” I asked before Dad could. 

“Well, him and the Vermaak.” Zeke replied, bringing up the corner of his shirt to try and polish the dead drop chip in his hand. “You heard Dr. Wolfe — Bertrand had him use the device on multiple people at once. Dunno how, and they all escaped before we could find out more. So we were stuck not only fighting the Militia, but a bunch of half-sane ice soldiers while trying to prepare for the Beast—”

Everyone’s heads snapped around to look at Zeke so fast that he nearly dropped the ammo crate in surprise. “Ice soldiers?” we managed to chorus, only half a beat off from each other. 

“Y–yeah?” Zeke stuttered, looking between the three of us. “They were transferred ice powers from Kuo, after she was activated. Cole too.”

Brent and I both glanced at each other before looking at Dad, who was staring at Zeke with a blank face before it cracked. His hands came up to press into his eyes. “Fuck,” he said, beginning to pace, “Fuck!”

Zeke was absolutely bewildered. “What, uh…why does that matter?”

I sighed hard on the side. “I was frozen by ice soldiers, in the fight with Augustine.”

“Oh, shit,”

“You know,” Brent deadpanned, leaning back on the loveseat. “Seems like everything comes back to the First Sons,”

“Always does,” Zeke huffs. 

Dad was still pacing, arms crossed now. “Bertrand was in charge here,” he muttered, a hand coming up to rub his face. He lifted his head, raising his voice slightly. “The ice soldiers were here. We’ve got to find their old base, maybe there’s something we could find that connects them to Archangel—”

“Delsin, this was some twenty-odd years ago,” Zeke said. “There’s a very small chance there’ll be anything left, between the military and any sorta urban explorers.”

“And they didn’t know what we do now,” Dad snipped. “There’s got to be something that can help us” He stopped, spinning in place to face Zeke. “Do you know where it is?”

Zeke hesitated. “I…I don’t. At least, I don’t remember. But one of these dead drops gotta have something that’ll help us,”

So we were stuck listening to more: of John White, telling the others how six blocks in Empire City were blown to bits when it was activated; of Bertrand, convinced he was doing something to honor God by gathering prisoners to test his own Ray Sphere on. 

There was a crackle, and then that same British voice again, far less panicked this time. “Audio surveillance of Agent Kuo, file G27,” he said.

 “I got my hands on an Echelon phone transcript the day Kessler detonated the Ray Sphere. He requested a very specific bike courier for the job.” She began. 

“Do you mean Cole MacGrath?” Dr. Wolfe asked. Brent’s head snapped around to look towards Zeke and his speakers now.

“There’s more,” The woman, Kuo, says. “I–I may have found some important new insight on Kessler, but I can't make it out. Kessler knew Cole MacGrath had the conduit gene, that's pretty clear, but I can't find his name in the First Sons database.”

“So…” Wolfe hesitated, “How did Kessler know Cole MacGrath had the gene?”

“Exactly.”

“Do you think they’re related?” Wolfe almost immediately asks after.

Kuo hesitates on the tape. “Huh…you know, I can try to find that out.”

The tape immediately goes dead, as if it was edited to the end of that exact statement. Dad was looking up from a file in his hand to where Zeke was, asking. “So who exactly was Kuo in all of this?”

“NSA Agent Lucy Kuo,” Zeke said, spinning his chair to face Dad. “She found us in Empire City and told Cole she had a way to make him powerful enough to fight the Beast.”

“And she was the ice conduit?”

“Yep.”

Brent was up himself now, having too much pent up energy. He was matching Dad’s steps earlier, pacing around the room. “How did he get more powerful to fight the Beast?”

“Blast cores,” Zeke says simply.

“Did the NSA know she was a conduit?” Dad interrupted before Brent could ask what the hell a Blast core was.

Zeke shakes his head. “Just that she had the gene. Bertrand’s the one that activated her, actually.”

I raised a hand like I was in class; this conversation was cool and all, but none of it was related to the very big piece of information in the dead drop we just heard. “Wait,” I started. “So — Kessler; he was in charge of the First Sons, right?” Zeke nods. “Okay, but then…how did he know Cole was a Conduit?”

Zeke had put on his glasses at some point, trying to mark each chip with a little code to signify what was on it. Now, though, he took them off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “If I told ya, you wouldn’t believe me.” He said. 

What kind of an answer was that? 

Dad seemed just as perplexed. “What do you mean? We need to know everything we can if we’re going to figure this out—”

The stairs creaked, and Dr. Sims came down into the room, sighing hard. “Decoding that journal is gonna be harder than I thought,” he started, looking at Dad. “But I did get the emails,”

He said that last bit with that tone of voice Dad would use when he told us he got a message from our teacher when we were bad at school: We need to talk about it. 

“Kessler was a piece of shit, who knew too much for his own good,” Zeke responded, completely ignoring Dr. Sims’ intrusion. “It would be easier if we just left it at that.”

“But why choose Cole?” Brent asked, bewildered. “I mean — no offense to, you know, your old friend — but he was just an electricity Conduit. Why not pick someone stronger to fight against the Beast? Like Dad?” 

Dad ignored Brent’s praise to glare disapprovingly at Zeke. “You can’t hide something valuable like this,” he protested. “It could be exactly what we need to figure out what the hell is going on.” 

Zeke opened his mouth to respond when Dr. Sims interrupted. “Zeke,” he called gently. “They need to know.”

The argument in Zeke’s chest died on the tip of his tongue, and he made a weird noise as he deflated. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he chewed on his tongue, seemingly debating how to start this. Whatever he was going to say looked like it stressed him out to even think of. 

And I definitely wasn’t prepared for what came out of his mouth next. 

“Kessler was Cole. He traveled back in time after the Beast destroyed the world to try and stop it from happening.”

[sister-lucifer]

Hello all well? I just read the new version of the fic "I can ride you until I feel better" from the sub version of the Obey Me boys, so I wanted to ask if you could write a version with the datables characters..

“Can I Ride You Until I Feel Better?” (part 3) 

Read PART ONE and PART TWO 

Diavolo, Barbatos*, Simeon, Solomon x Male Reader (separately) 

Genre: NSFW

Content/Warnings: Dom/Top reader, mentions of riding, slightly OOC Simeon ig? depends on how you perceive him 

Not fully proof read, let me know if you see any errors!

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! 

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feed back is encouraged and appreciated:)

*Barbatos uses they/he pronouns 

Diavolo 

Diavolo’s day had consisted of nothing but work, work and more work

He was frustrated, tired, and his brain was fried from staring down at his papers from so long 

He dropped down onto the couch next to you, resting his chin in his hands and letting out a long groan 

“What’s up, Dia?” You asked, brushing away some stray hairs from his forehead 

“I don’t think i’ve had a day that draining in a thousand years…”

“Oh, honey, c’mere…” 

Diavolo laid down with his head in your lap, allowing you to stroke his head 

He stripped off his jacket as well, discarding it on the door thoughtlessly 

“Oh, my love,” Dia sighed, “I need a pick me up…” 

“Anything in mind?” You asked. It was quite obvious that he was already thinking of something

Diavolo turned over to look up at you, somehow keeping a completely straight face as he asked: 

“Can I ride you until I feel better?” 

You were a bit taken aback, but Dia’s calm demeanor didn’t falter 

He was serious, but not trying to be pushy 

Of course you had to agree, and a grin quickly formed on his face 

“Thank you, darling. Now sit back and sit still, I think we’re gonna be here a while…” 

Barbatos 

They may live to serve, but even Barbatos gets worn out from time to time 

He may have more patience than most, but it’s still finite 

They finally got a moment to themself at the end of a long day, and were happy to see you laying in their bed waiting for them 

“Oh, hello, love.” He greeted you. It was short but sweet, although you could still see the tiredness in his eyes 

“Hello, Barbs. You seem worn out. Wanna come lay down?” 

“Yes, actually. That would be nice. I’m not sure why, but today was particularly trying.” 

“I get it. Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you.” 

Soon they had snuggles into bed next to, holding you to their chest and resting his chin on your head 

You could feel the rise and fall of his chest begin to slow as he relaxed, but there was still an odd restless air about them 

“You alright, Barbatos?” 

“Yes, I think so…just, uh, not quite out of ‘work mode’ I suppose…” 

“Well hey, you’re always doing things for other people. Why don’t you let me do something for you instead?” 

Barbatos paused, looking down at you with an intrigued expression  

“Really?”

“Yep. Anything you want Barbs, I’ll do it.” 

“Anything…?” 

You nodded in reply 

Barbatos’ now borderline stoic face gave little to no insight on what they were thinking 

But when they did finally speak, it wasn’t anything you were expecting 

“If you really mean that, then…I think there is something I’d like.” 

Suddenly he was above you, your back now flat on the mattress as you gazed up at him 

“Would you be so kind as to let me—excuse my language—ride you until I feel better?” 

Even in moments like these they were still insistent on being proper 

It was endearing 

And of course you just had to say yes 

“I appreciate it, my dear. I’ll make sure you enjoy it as much as I do.” 

Simeon 

Ooooh booooy 

Y’know how the other characters said you never wanna see Simeon angry?

You don’t 

And he was pissed 

Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, or maybe it was some other mundane thing he couldn’t put his finger on 

But something had made today extra difficult 

All he wanted was to go home and get away from everybody but you 

And even though that time eventually came, it felt like it had been an eternity since this morning 

He didn’t even greet Lucifer when he passed 

He just wanted to get to you 

And when he did you were in for a wild ride (pun intended) 

He knew that an angel shouldn’t be thinking or desiring such things, but in his fiery state it seemed like the only thing that could help 

And it was rather easy to push the guilty thoughts away once he had his sights on you 

He was on you the second he was in the door climbing into your lap without so much as a word 

By the time you had said “hello” he was already fumbling with your pants 

“W-Woah, Simeon—! Slow down, w-what are you—“

“Just let me have this human. I need you ride you until I feel better.” 

You could practically feel the frustration radiating off of him, so you simply sat back and let him have his way. 

“Let me make one thing clear to you: I don’t want a word about this in the morning, do you understand? Good. Now behave.” 

Solomon 

Solomon was generally cheery, but today was just not his day 

He was struggling with his spells and couldn’t seem to get anything quite right

Each little mistake piled up into a mountain of frustration 

Until eventually he simply couldn’t take it anymore 

He somehow managed to make it to the end of the day, but was only hanging on by a thread 

He was so very happy to see you in his room, sitting in his bed and waiting for him 

“Oh, my love, I’m so happy to see you. You’re exactly what I need after such a terrible day.”

“Aw, well I’m glad I could help. Want to come lay down?” 

“Mm…not exactly.” 

You quirked a brow in confusion, watching as he sat down on the bed next to you 

“I’ve had a terrible frustrating time today, and I need something to…blow off steam with.” 

He pulled the covers off and straddled your waist, putting his hands on your chest and pushing you down onto your back 

“I think I’d like to ride to until I feel better. Is that alright?” 

You nodded wordlessly, watching as he stripped off his uniform jacket and then shirt 

“Good. You’re always willing to help me out, aren’t you?”