#and in both instances the situation turns sour after they feel at home(with the laitmotif playing). thats so fucked

[hauntingblue]

Arcane being meaningful shot after meaningful shot needs to be studied

[abysskeeper]

Betrayal, ghost, and wound for the OC angst asks! For whoever strikes your fancy. =D

Well, my other ask specifically targets Trick, so I'm going to take this opportunity to ramble about my Elturel twins, wizard Nox'ani and paladin Lux'ol (they come as a package deal since I'm writing their campaigns together). Thank you!

And since I'm speaking for two and no longer know what brevity is, and also have an awareness for other people's dashes, a readmore for everything that follows:

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

Lux is an Oath of Devotion paladin (Lathander) and former Hellrider, so betrayal is the ultimate sin for her. She does not and will not betray people, however she is incredibly susceptible to being betrayed. No one close to her has ever betrayed her as far as she knows, but the events that took place in her home city left their scars. When the High Rider revealed himself as a vampire lord some 50 years before the game started and took over the city, Lux was left reeling. When the entire city was betrayed to Zariel and sent to Avernus, something inside her broke knowing that the leadership she had devoted her entire life to in order to protect people had essentially fucked her and everyone else over twice.

Nox, on the other hand, has no oath to uphold, but devotion kind of runs in the family. However, she has betrayed someone once. During the vampire takeover of Elturel, she and Lux's new wife, a fellow Hellrider named Asta, made a deal that if either one of them turned, they would kill the other. Neither wanted to live like that and both knew Lux would never be able to kill either one of them. Given Nox is my primary Tav and Asta isn't in the picture...you can guess how that went. Lux doesn't know, and if Nox has her way, she never will. It isn't guilt exactly, and Nox doesn't regret it, but there is shame...and she's never seen a reason to inflict an additional blow to her sister in an already painful situation.

As for being betrayed, Nox doesn't really get that feeling, except for in the most literal sense. Otherwise, people want power, people lie, and people have secrets. She understands and expects it. Instead, she lodges her complaints at divinity, claiming the gods betrayed mortals as a whole in not doing all they can to protect life. Nox also has a weird situation with Mystra that she won't call betrayal per se, but she's been left hurt and confused as to why Mystra cast her gaze away from her once the goddess was revived. Nox still doesn't have an answer, and it burns her more than she'll ever admit to.

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

Elturel, for both of them, in both instances. In addition to being on the front lines and seeing the civilian carnage they were trying to prevent, they lost most of their family. Both their mother, an archmage, and their father, another Hellrider, died during the vampire takeover, as well as Asta. In Avernus, they were dealt an additional blow when Nox's best friend, and general family friend, Kal was murdered after a ploy to get him and Nox to sign contracts turned sour.

The two both made peace with their parents' deaths in the 50 or so years between the vampire takeover and the start of the game. Their elven parents died well before their time, but they did so protecting what they loved and believed in, and both twins came to the conclusion the best they could do was live on in their legacies; which included them trying to help the Elturian refugees (the tieflings) settle in Baldur's Gate and is the reason they were in city at the start of the game.

Lux additionally, eventually, started making peace over Asta's presumed death with the help of time and support from her fellow Riders. Neither of them have had enough time to really parse what happened in Avernus, and Nox is still reeling at losing her best friend. Her only solace is that he was older (70, probably pushing 80, and human) so she had been preparing for the inevitable at some point, but she hasn't been able to get any real closure. She was intending on traveling to Waterdeep to visit his family and inform them after she and Lux were done in Baldur's Gate...but then a Nautiloid appeared, so that has to wait.

And then, a few weeks after the Nautiloid appeared, some familiar faces popped up (because I am nothing, if not cruel). Lux knows better than to believe the dream visitor, but she looks exactly like Asta and it threw Lux completely. She knows better than to be led to believe her wife is alive (Asta is dead, Nox confirmed she saw the body when the spawns attacked), but it doesn't stop her from hoping.

Meanwhile, Nox is so beyond pissed, enraged doesn't even begin cut it. How dare anything use Kalden's face to try to garner pity or trust from her. She knows it isn't him and she will not listen to this thing trying to impersonate him ever. Any plan of fostering trust on the Guardian's behalf is immediately shot.

So, all in all, neither are doing nearly as well with their ghosts as they'd like to believe.

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

Lux, being a sword and shield fighter, is very used to the typical injuries of combat. Between her healing capabilities and her sister's healing capabilities, she barely bats an eye at anything but the most egregious gaping wounds and broken bones. Those still do happen from time to time, and when they do, Lux generally just grits her teeth and waits for the sensation of healing magic to wash over her. Half the time, Nox is chanting an incantation before she can even think to use lay hands on herself.

So that being said, Lux's worst wound is actually spiritual. After seeing betrayal after betrayal in Elturel and watching them devolve into nothing but death and ruin for thousands of innocent lives, her resolve in her oath started slipping. After Avernus, Lux could feel her hold on her oath starting to break, and that terrified her more than anything. She spends all of Act 1 trying to revitalize her oath (and her belief in it) any way she can; hence the party spends a lot of time assisting the tieflings and any poor soul they come across. It's a whole game endeavor, but the creche/monastery really help soothe her a lot.

Nox, despite being a wizard, is also very used to the typical injuries of combat. She specializes in Abjuration, so she's a shield mage, and her primary form of fighting is by slinging spells and then herself. By which I mean, some people are smart enough to dodge spells, but most people don't expect to be body slammed by the wizard herself after. It's proven to be an effective, if not dangerous, strategy (that nearly gives Gale a coronary every damn time). As such, she's also kinda numb to everything but the worst of the worst, and has a tendency to make ill-timed or otherwise inappropriate jokes about her injuries. It's a coping mechanism and her way to reassure everyone (and herself) that it'll be fine in the end.

However, her worst injury (if it counts) came during the "ploy turned sour" incident in Avernus, when she wound up taking a fire bolt directly to the chest. Nox actually died, but she doesn't remember that and believes she just fell unconscious. Lux got to her soon enough to revive her, and could never bring herself to correct her sister's assumption about only falling unconscious. This is later superseded when she dies in the fight against Myrkul. Nox remembers that one, and boy that one hurt.

Most of Nox's wounds are emotional though. She doesn't have a particularly short fuse and she's not overly sensitive, but she does have the tendency to bottle things up when something bothers her, only for it to come spilling out a few days later. She's not the best at processing her emotions either, and will more often than not lash out in anger or hurt over something that's been stewing beneath the surface. Luckily, once she does that, she's quick to apologize and defuse and then work towards an actual solution.

Nox's actual worst wound is something she'll never admit to, but being ignored by Mystra for reasons unknown cuts her deep. It is half the reason for her anger towards the gods as a whole; all she wants is an answer.

And finally...if you made it all this way, I wish I could offer some sort of prize, because I know that's a lot of rambling. But I love these two girls a lot and having the chance to finally write them in full has been an absolute blast.

[harleysarchive]

Monegasque Kiss | Charles Leclerc

Fandom: Formula one Warning: My favorite trope, pining after each other and then confess your love. Friends to lovers. 2500 words. I enjoyed writing this a LOT. Pairing: Charles Leclerc x neutral!reader Summary: You and Charles are pining after one another and it ends up with a kiss, with some help from Pierre Gasly

A/N: Once again I’m thanking Screnwriter’s prompts, nr. 10, for sparking my inspiration to write, your prompts are the best! Gif by dams-racing. Honestly, I’m having such a blast writing for Charles and the other drivers, it really inspires me to continue writing.

There were some perks with being friends with formula one drivers. For instance you could go watch them race and kick ass on the tracks. You had known Charles and Pierre since you were younger. You had the fortune to meet them when they raced go kart and you just happened to be in Monaco on vacation with your family when their race was there. You had met them by accident and the three of you had stayed in touch ever since that day. Even though you couldn’t meet them as much as you wanted, you were happy to accompany them on their races, especially when it was in Monaco. 

You were by the docks looking at the people on their boats. Music started blasting through the speakers on the boats and people talked loudly to overpower the sound. Champagne was popping, spilling onto the wooden deck and laughter was heard from tipsy people. Girls were tanning on the deck and guys shouting at the people below. But you loved this, the commotion of people and how happy everyone was.

Screams were heard behind you when you saw that the big screen was showing all the drivers and that the drivers were posing in front of said screen. The crowd cheered the loudest when Charles' face was shown and he walked in front of it. Your heart made a jump when you saw him. Ever since that day many years ago, you had had a crush on Charles. But there was no way in hell that you were going to tell him that. Your friendship were too important to destroy by a stupid crush. But something inside you hoped, wished that he felt the same towards you. 

Pierre had seen you on the docks and made his way over to you, hugging you from behind. You shrieked, but soon relaxed when you realized who it was. Pierre laughed loudly at your reaction. 

“Pierre, you scared the living shit out of me.” you said and smacked him on the arm. His smile just grew even wider. 

“I didn’t know that you would be here so soon, (Y/N). I thought me or Charles were going to pick you up at the airport when you landed.”

“No need to, plus I didn’t want to ruin your fashion show down there.” you said and winked at him. He shoved you slightly which made you giggle. The two of you walked towards one of the cafés. The weather was amazing. You and Pierre caught up with everything while waiting for Charles to arrive. Pierre talked about the race and how he had enjoyed some time to hang out with his friends. You talked about your life and what was going on there. This was the first race that you could attend in Europe and you were happy that it was in Monaco. 

“So, anyone special at home?” he asked, with a look on his face like he knew something. You looked at him suspiciously. 

“No, why?”

“Well you are beautiful. I just wondered why you haven’t found someone yet.” his smirk grew. 

He definitely knew.

“Thank you, Pierre. I don’t know.” you tried to sound innocent and oblivious. “Maybe I haven’t found the right one.”

“Or the right one haven’t asked you.” he mumbled into his coffee, which made you turn bright red. 

Charles was on his way to your location and he had stopped by a flower shop to buy you some flowers. It had been ages since he had seen you and he wanted to give you something. He had seen you and Pierre hug on the docks, which made him feel a wave of jealousy crash inside of him. But he didn’t want to admit it to himself. The two of you were friends, nothing more, nothing less. But god did he hope for more. 

He rounded the corner to see the two of you talking at the café. The sting of jealousy came back again, because it looked like the two of you were on a date. But he tried to dismiss the thought and put on the biggest smile on his face. Pierre saw him first and waved him over, which made you turn to face him. Charles stopped in his tracks when his eyes met yours. His stomach filled with butterflies and he could feel his face getting flustered. 

You rose from your chair to run to him and you gave him the biggest hug.

“God how I have missed you, Charles.” you said. He hugged you back and inhaled your scent. How he had missed your hugs and your scent. 

“I have missed you so much, (Y/N).”

He let go of you.

“These are for you.” 

He gave you the flowers he had bought and you had the biggest smile plastered on your face.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

“Thank you so much, Charles.” you beamed and smelled the flowers.

The two of you joined Pierre by the café and continued your chat for some time. You talked about everything and nothing.

“(Y/N), you should join us tonight at the party.” Pierre said.

“There’s a party tonight?”

“Yes, it’s on one of the yacht’s by the dock. I’m sure that you can come as our plus one.” Pierre said and winked at you, which made Charles' expression sour.

“Sounds fun and I get to hang out with you guys even more.” you smiled.

“Great, there will be more formula one drivers there tonight. But just stay close to us and you’ll be fine.”

“What time is it?”

“Around seven.”

“Great, can you pick me up by my hotel before that?” 

“Of course.” they both said. 

You grabbed your flowers and left them to get ready for the party. Inhaling the scent one once again and felt the butterflies go nuts in your stomach.

He gave you flowers!

At the hotel you had packed some more fancy clothes, in case this happened and now you were extremely happy that you did. You were done just in time when someone knocked on your door. Outside stood Charles in a blue shirt and he looked ravishing. You opened and his face flustered by your fancy attire. 

“Wow, you look amazing.” he breathed. You blushed by his comment and invited him in. He closed the door and sat down on the bed.

“You know, you could’ve stayed at my place for your time here.” Charles said. You froze by his statement and he saw your reaction and he could feel the panic grow inside him.

“I-if you wanted, that is.” he stuttered trying to save the situation. “You are always welcome, you know.”

His hand touched his neck in a nervous gesture and his face was even more flustered than before. You tried to not think too much about what he said, he wanted to be a kind friend towards you. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Thank you, Charles. I will surely take that offer next time I’m in Monaco to see you.” you said and took one last glance in the mirror before the two of you headed for the lobby. The ride towards the party was fun, the two of you cracked jokes which made you cry with laughter. Charles felt proud that he could make you laugh like this and he enjoyed that the two of you were alone. 

On the yacht there were people everywhere, talking, drinking, you think you saw someone making out with someone behind the stairs. To give the lovely couple some privacy you turned around to walk over to the bar. Charles and Pierre had to do some interviews and mingle with the bosses and such, which made you stand alone for a while. But you didn’t care, because then you could watch the different people that were at the party. You saw Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen and Sebastian Vettel. In one corner you could see Daniel Ricciarido laugh with some people you didn’t recognize. 

Sebastian had seen you alone and came up to you. Charles had introduced you when Sebastian was racing for Ferrari and you could tell that Charles looked up to Sebastian. The two of you got along well as well, which made Charles even more happy. However, Sebastian could see the looks the monegasque racer gave you when you weren’t looking. The wistful and yearning looks that only a love-sick person could give. The slight tint of pink on his cheeks whenever you gave him attention or how his attention or body was always turned towards you, no matter what. 

“Hey, (Y/N).” he said and embraced you.

“Hey, Sebastian.”

“Enjoying the party?” he said and let go of you. 

“It’s nicer now that I have someone to talk to.” you joked and looked over to Pierre and Charles doing some interviews with reporters. Sebastian could see the look you gave them, especially Charles. He felt bad for you that you felt alone.

“Well, I can introduce you to some people if you want?” he asked. You nodded and followed him towards the crowd of the other racers. You met Max, Sergio and Lewis. 

Charles had glanced over at you to see that you were doing okay, but that wave of jealousy came crashing inside of him when he saw you talking to the other racers. And with the jealousy came the worry. You turned around to meet his piercing eyes and you smiled at him. His insides melted by your smile and some of the worry and jealousy went away. Some of it, but not all. 

When the interview was over he and Pierre went over to the bar. Charles ordered two drinks, one for him and one for you.

“Some encouragement?” Pierre asked.

“For what?”

“Asking (Y/N) to be yours?”

Charles almost choked on air by Pierre’s statement. 

“What are you talking about? She is a friend.”

“Yeaaah, a friend that you like… or even more than that.”

Charles just shook his head and headed over to you. You smiled at him when he reached you and someone said that we should continue the conversation on the sofas nearby. The crowd started moving towards the sofas and somehow you didn’t get a seat. Pierre came by to slightly nudge you so that you lost your balance and landed in Charles lap.

“I’m so sorry.” you said frantic, feeling yourself getting flustered, but not as flustered as Charles. You tried to get up from his lap, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“I-it’s fine. You can sit here, since there is no other room for you to sit.” he stuttered and eyed Pierre. Pierre just raised his glas towards him and continued his conversation with Esteban. Trying his best to look innocent, but it was exactly the opposite. You nodded and tried your best not to blush profusely. His body was radiating so much heat and you took some deep breaths and tried to relax. But the tention between you and Charles. You could cut it with a knife and you bet that the both of you were blushing messes at the moment. Charles didn’t know where to keep his hands and you didn’t want to move around to much. Charles wanted to both kill Pierre for doing this and thank him at the same time. But now he mostly wanted to kill him. You could feel how stiff your posture was in his lap and tried your best to not lean against him too much. But you wanted too. Charles' hand found its way on your lower back, to act as a backrest. You tried to act cool, but this whole situation made your mind and body freak out. How could you focus on anything else than Charles hand on you back? His warm body and his muscular thighs which you were currently sitting on?

You tried to continue your conversations with the boys. Throughout the night Charles got more and more bold with his actions. It started with that he rested his other hand on your thigh, which made you freeze when he did it, but you soon relaxed to his touch. Then he started to pull you closer to his chest so you were resting against his chest. You could feel it rise up and down, but he hoped that you couldn’t hear his racing heart over how close you were to him. Your arms snaked around his waist and you rested your head against his shoulder. He had a hard time breathing normally with you so close to him.  

Later that evening Pierre joined you, which made you break apart from your cozy situation. You and Pierre were talking about some silly things, as usual, and now there was room for you to sit on the sofa, but you didn’t want to leave Charles' lap. Somehow, you had gotten into the topic of different kissing techniques. This made Charles pull you even closer to himself, as he didn’t like the topic that you and Pierre were discussing. 

“Have you ever had a french kiss (Y/N)?”

“No, I don’t think so, why?”

“Well, there are a lot of french people here, would you like to try it with a real french man?” he smirked and you burst into laughter, which made you fall of Charles lap and landed between the boys instead. This made Charles expression sour even more. You and Pierre shared a loud and long laughter by what Pierre just said, but Charles… not so much. His eyes darkened as he looked over to his best friend.

“In your dreams, Pierre.” you said and dried away some tears and shoved him away from you. 

“Perhaps, but it is certainly in someone else’s dreams.” he said and patted you on the knee and left. You looked at him confused and then turned around to Charles. His eyes were still dark as he followed Pierre, but his flustered cheeks told you something else.

“Do you know what he was talking about?”

Charles’ directed his attention towards you again, trying his best to look unbothered.

“No.” he lied. 

You shrugged your shoulders and rose from the sofa.

“Come on, let’s look over the city.”

You grabbed his hand, feeling more bold now that you had sat in his lap for most of the evening. You dragged him towards the railing and looked over Monte Carlo. You hadn’t let go of his hand when you looked over the city. He drew you closer to him and you let your head rest on his arm. Then his curiosity sparked from the conversation you had with Pierre before.

“You haven’t had a french kiss?”

“No, I haven’t.” you laughed but tried to hide the nerves and your embarrassment over the topic. Charles nodded and turned around to face you. You looked at him curiously, which made his stomach do flips. How gorgeous you looked in this light, or in every light for that matter. Your smile, your hair, your laughter, you personality, it was all perfection to him. A wave of confidence crashed inside of him and he saw his chance now. He wanted to be with you and he hoped that you felt the same towards him.

It’s now or never, he thought.

“Well if you haven’t had a french kiss, you probably haven’t had a monegasque kiss.” Charles said with a smirk on his face. He let his hand touch your arm slightly, drawing circles on it. 

“A monegasque kiss? What is that?” you asked. 

“It’s like a french kiss but better.”

“Better?”

“Yes, because it is with me... “ Charles leaned in closer to you. “And you.”

He closed the gap between the two of you. One of his hands grabbed your cheek while the other hand was on your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Sparks flew as your bodies touched and you stopped breathing for a second, which made Charles nervous. But you soon realized what was happening and you moved in sync with his lips. It felt like no time had passed but your lungs were screaming for air. You broke apart from the kiss, looking into each other’s eyes.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” Charles breathed. You just beamed over what had just happened. Charles’ hand caressed your cheek.

“So… What Pierre said about me kissing a certain someone in a certain someone’s dreams. Was that you?”

“Guilty.” He said and from the back you could hear Pierre cheering and shouting something like ‘finally you guys did it!’.

You just laughed and kissed Charles again, which would be one of many kisses to come and quite frankly, you enjoyed the monegasque kiss much more than you would ever like any other kiss in the future.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 🥰

TAGS: @ohmyolympusssy @baueoud @marvelishgirl​ 

[kass-storycorner]

Hello!! i stumbled across your works and i absolutely fell inlove with your writing (especially the angsty ones)

Can i jump on the angst train and request a fic with a line that goes "I'm here, you dont have to wait anymore," with childe? Like maybe the reader told childe that theyll wait for him no matter how long it takes (and maybe a sprinkle of argument) but something happened that made the reader be on the brink of death. With or without comfort/happy ending is up to u!!

first of all thank you so much for the request! and it really makes me so happy to hear that you like my writing, especially my angst haha secondly I am so sorry that this took so long, since I saw this ask in my inbox I couldn't stop thinking about it and finished the first part of this pretty quickly - only to be stuck at how to end it (and actually fulfill the request haha). right now i am not really happy with the ending, though I feel like this is the best I can currently do! I really hope you enjoy, please let me know if it was alright haha (also I fear that I didn't really...wrote Childe in-character, I don't know)

Waiting for you

Genre: Angst, Hurt, comfort at the end

Characters: Childe x gn!reader (Childe is referred by is actual name by the reader, but outside of dialog he's called Childe)

Format: bullet points (backstory) + Text (actual fic, answer to the prompt)

Word count: 4324

Content warning: veeeery slight spoiler warning for the Liyue quests, its literally just one sentence and I tried to keep it as ambigious as possible, slight cursing (using the word bitch too, though thats the only instance of using gendered-vocab for the reader, i still wrote them gn!), mention of blood, mild violence, not proof-read ahah when will i ever do that

you can find the fic under the cut, have fun reading!

You and Childe knew each other since you were just little kids – him and his family being neighbours had meant you always ended up playing with him and his siblings, though you both got along the best.

On more than one occasion you both just ran off to somewhere no one could disturb you, your secret hideout, trading stories of great warriors from outside of Snezhnaya you heard the fishermen at the docks talk about.

Most people and children were wary of Childe, he was always the one who wanted to ‘play-fight’, which ended most of the time with the other kid running home, crying. However, you were the exception, always able to beat him or at least have a tie. Your parents, especially your father, hated it when you came back home with bruises on your arm, a bright smile and telling how you beat Childe up that day. He never felt like Childe was someone you should surround yourself with, but he kept quite for your younger years, also thanks to your mother who wasn’t fond of the fighting either but saw how much time with Childe meant to you.

Things however changed after Childe fell into the Abyss.

It was apparent how violent he got after it, even his own family was completely helpless when it came to him. So his father send him off to join the Fatui, which was a very controversial decision in the small town you both called home – most were happy to not have Childe be around anymore, for he picked up more and more fights and became more violent, but even within Snezhnaya the Fatui have a bad reputation, so most people were convinced that he would only become even worse.

Your father was one of those who was happy, but also concerned. Your mother died shortly after Childe fell into the Abyss, so your father forbade you any contact with Childe.

This, however, did not work. After Childe had to leave Morespesok you kept in touch through letters and whenever he was in town you always met up in secret.

The letters you send each other turned sweeter the older you got, changing the feelings for friendship you both felt for each other slowly into a romantic love. Childe always ended his letter with saying that he would return soon and you always with “I’ll be waiting for you Ajax”.

You always looked forward to his letters and so did he for yours. When he came back to Morespesok after every mission he had to do for the Fatui you both would meet up in your secret hideout. This place became your save haven. Conversations, hugs, kisses and even more – everything that wasn’t written in a letter between you two happened there.

Childe was fine with this and so were you. He didn’t want people to know there was someone he loved as much as he loved you, as one of the Harbringers of the Fatui it could endanger you. You on the other hand were fine with it because, even though you had no understanding for why your father forbad you the relationship with Childe, you couldn’t stomach to disappoint him. After all he was your father and you loved him dearly, no matter how much you both might disagree on things.

Still, you longed for something more – with Childe and for your own life. You wanted to travel too; you haven’t had the chance to leave Morespesok past the few neighbouring villages. So, when Childe wrote to you that after his next visit, which would only be a few days long, he was going to Liyue and didn’t knew for how long he had to stay there – you asked him in your reply if you could join him. Him writing that it wasn’t possible and better for you to stay in Morespesok and just wait for him hurt, but you understood. You are fine with waiting for him, you always were.

You were expecting a sad but loving last night with Childe before he had to leave, ending with a bittersweet goodbye. You weren’t expecting what happened instead.

Childe was angry, it was clear to see. The moment he stepped into your secret hideout you knew something was off – how he averted your eyes, how he didn’t return your kiss with a passionate one, like usual. “Ajax”, you purred in a sweet voice, “what’s wrong?”. You tried to take his hand, but he only pulled it away. Ah, that was unusual. He never refused your touch, no matter how angry he was before. “There is nothing wrong, I just was curious if there is something you want to tell me?”, he replied in a bitter tone, not even looking at you. It took you completely off guard; you saw him be angry or sulky before, you two had your fair share of arguments in the past, but somehow this was different. “No, there is nothing except for the fact that I missed you very much,” you told him, but you could feel how you started to become irritated. When you saw him two days ago visiting your family’s shop with Teucer he gave you a warm and loving smile, winking at you when he handed you that piece of paper asking to meet up tonight. What had happened in between that made him act like this? “Tsk, fine,” and with that he was on his way out. You moved quickly in front of him, blocking the way out. “Now wait a moment, would you kindly tell me what is going on here?”. He just quietly looked at you for a few seconds before he shoved you aside. “AJAX!”, you couldn’t hide your irritation and growing anger anymore, burying your fingers in his arm in order to stop him from leaving. “What did I do to make you be angry at me?”. “It doesn’t matter”, Childe replied coldly, while trying to get you to loosen your grip on his arm. “Now let me go and run home to your father and your fiancé, I bet they are already asking where you are right now.” “My what?” you replied with bewilderment. “Childe, is that why you are angry with me? Because you think I am engaged to someone else?”. Honestly, you would find this situation hilarious if it weren’t for the fact that Childe still looked at you with a sour face. “Well, I don’t think you are engaged to someone else; I know you are. Your father was really excited about the whole thing when he told me, he even invited me to your wedding, granted if I could find the time.” As he said this, he noticed how your face was a combination of confusion and anger. And oh yes, were you angry. Angry at your father for telling such blatant lies and at Childe for believing them, confused as to why he would even believe your father in the first place. “Ajax, I-“you let go of his arm, pinching the bridge of your nose and letting out a deep sigh. “I am engaged to no one, never was. I didn’t tell you this, because I didn’t want to upset you or worry you needlessly, but maybe I should’ve done it. My father continuously tries to marry me off whenever he finds anyone, he deems a worthy suitor. I guess he might have found one of your letters, though he never said anything about it, but I can’t explain why he suddenly started to become so interested in my marital status. Every few weeks he brings another person home, tells me I should marry them, for me to turn those poor fools down and tell my father he should stop. Most accept it that I have no interest in them, some stick around for a few weeks until the realise that nothing will come of it, but yeah. Ask anyone, Archons ask your family, it’s already a running joke here.” You expected the atmosphere to become less tense after you explained the whole situation to him, for him to even turn it into a joke and to apologise for his behaviour. Instead, it just grew more tense. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”, his voice still being cold, underneath it you could hear how angry he still was. “Because it wasn’t important, at least not to me. Honestly Ajax, I don’t see what the issue is here. I am not engaged and I do not plan to agree to one unless-“, you stopped yourself right there. ‘Unless it’s you who’s asking’, is what you wanted to say. You could feel how your heart fluttered even just at the thought. Childe, however, did not notice where you were going with your last sentence, too

occupied with his own anger. “Unless what?”. “It doesn’t matter, can’t we just drop the topic and enjoy our first and last night in months with each other without fighting?”, this was your last offer of peace, hoping he would finally calm down. But you knew deep down – Childe never was one to back out of a fight. “No no no, continue, tell me what you wanted to say!”, his voice growing louder and louder with every word. “Ajax, let it be,” you really weren’t in the mood for anything tonight anymore and the least you wanted to do was discuss your wish of a future with him. “No, I won’t. Tell me, because I would love to know. Or don’t, you can also just go and choose one of the various suitors your father picked out for you to fuck, I bet you really enjoy it how they are all standing in line for you,” he spit his words out, full of anger and disgust. This was the final straw for you, it was apparent that Childe choose words that he knew would hurt you with intent and it made you explode. “You know what? I’ve had enough!”, you screamed at him, feeling how tears were pooling in the corner of your eyes. Not out of sadness or because his words hurt, those were tears of pure rage. “You come in here, after I haven’t seen you in weeks, before you leave for an unspecified amount of time and all you have to do is pick a fight? Fine, here have a fight! You are unhappy that I didn’t tell you how my father wants to force me in a marriage I don’t want to be in? Boho, I am so so sorry for you Ajax. Really, I can’t fathom to imagine how much you must struggle with this, but oh well, life must be so hard when you keep travelling around Teyvat. Because I really can’t imagine how life would be outside this place, what it’s like to have anything to do. Have you ever noticed, ever realised how much I hate it? Hate the wating? Because that’s all I do! I wait for your letters, and I wait for you to return. All I ever do I wait, wait, wait. Wait for you to come home yes and wait for you to finally be ready for something, anything more!”, the tears were now streaming down your hot, angry face. Childe just looked at you, waiting for you to end what you had to say. “I am tired of waiting! I am tired of keeping us hidden, yes, I agreed to it too in the beginning, but now? Dammit, Ajax. I don’t want to be left alone here when you go to Liyue, I don’t want to wait if I don’t know for how long I should wait. I just- “it became harder for you to speak, sobs interrupting you every few seconds. “I wish you would let me join you.” Except for your sobs, which you tried to supress, silence fell over the two of you. Childe just stood there in front of you, watching how you tried to stop the tears. “You know I can’t take you with me. It’s… it’s not safe,” he said after a while. You didn’t expect for him to change his mind, however his words didn’t make you feel any better… on the contrary they made you feel even feel worse. “Leave me alone,” was all you could tell him in that moment. You didn’t want to have him near you, you didn’t want to see his stupid face or look at his sad, blue eyes. Right now, you only wanted to be alone. “(Y/N)”, Childe began softly, wanting to take you in his arms but the look you gave him made him stop dead in his tracks. “Please, I need to be alone now”. The atmosphere was heavy, both of you didn’t want to part on bad terms but – right now wasn’t the right moment to make up. “I will leave you alone, but (Y/N)”, he said, looking at you with regret about how he acted just earlier, “please wait for me.” You scoffed at his words. Wait for him, again. “(Y/N)”, you turned away, so you didn’t have to see his face when he spoke your name again. “(Y/N), please. Please promise me that you will wait for me, I’ll come back, I promise you and I will make up for this… and for making you always wait for me. I promise. You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice.” At the mention of the nursery rhyme you had to chuckle a bit. “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend,

the frost will freeze your tongue off, so you never lie again,” you finished it, looking back at him. “Fine, I’ll wait. But leave now.” And with that Childe left you alone, leaving Morespesok for Liyue the next day.

It has been a few months now since Childe came to Liyue and while his endeavours here were more or less successful, what was on his mind most of the days was you and how you both parted. He wanted to kick himself in the arse for how he acted that day, for making you so angry and for making you cry. The worst however is how you haven’t written him a single letter yet and Childe, though he would never admit it because of his pride, was too scared to send you one first. That he should be the first one to send you a letter was something he was aware of but still – he couldn’t find the right words. What should he write? Every time he sat down at his desk, looking at the piece of paper in front of him… he was never able to make it past “Dear (Y/N)”, and even with this he wasn’t sure, maybe “Beloved” would sound better? Childe would’ve even considered asking Zhongli for advice, however after finding out that Childe was just a pawn in his plans – he still considers Zhongli a friend, but before he could ask for advice the feeling of betrayal needs to fade out. And now he got the order to return to Snezhnaya by the end of the next month… he felt so anxious at the thought of seeing you again, not even knowing what happened with you the past months. So in the letter to his family in which he announced is return, Childe asked them, after months of not hearing anything from or about you, how you were. When he held the letter of his family in his hands, he started to feel nervous, it included the answer of your wellbeing. He knew you would keep your promise, but still. What if when not? Reading the contents of the letter, however, made him wish that he had asked sooner. Childe couldn’t stop reading the few lines his family wrote about you over and over again.

You asked about (Y/N) wellbeing in your last letter. Ajax, we wish we could tell you some more pleasant news than this, but we haven't seen or heard anything of (Y/N) for a week now. No one really knows where they might be, the last we know is that they left their home after a fight with their father, but there is nothing more we can tell you.

After reading those few lines, the letter already crumply at the edges from the way he held onto it, Childe decided to immediately make his way back home. In his opinion it didn't matter if he returned sooner than ordered and that was a problem he will face later. For now, he wanted to know what had happened to you, because he couldn't, didn’t want to, believe that you left Morepesok... you promised that you would wait for him. But doubt crept into his heart and his mind - you were so frustrated with waiting, he noticed it before you even said anything that night. However, he kept ignoring it. It wasn't like that Childe didn't also wish for more, to build a home with you, to spend more time with you. The feeling of not being good enough for you, something your father and others in Morepesok made clear to him since your childhood together, and the fear of putting a visible target on your back by being by your side... all of it held him back.

The way back home only took him a few days and when he came close to his village, seeing the once so well-known roofs and chimney of the houses, he took a junction into the woods, making his way to the secret hideout of you two. When he arrived, he noticed how it looked lived in, at first a relive for Childe, until he saw the traces of a fight - and blood on the floor. He was quick to follow the trail of blood, the father he went away from the hideout the more blood was on the ground. Suddenly he could hear a strangers voice in the distance.

"Answer me you stupid bitch!", you felt a hand pulling you up by your hair, but you were already too tired, too beaten up and injured to even respond to that violent pull. All you tried to do was to keep your hands on your stomach, trying to stop the blood from gushing out. You could barely remember what had happened, how you got there. It all started over a week ago, when you father came with another suitor wanting to marry you. Like always you turned him down, saying you had no interest in marriage, this time however he wasn't as understand as the others were. The whole thing ended in you having a huge fight with your father about it, he tried to pressure you even more than usual to take that fella as your husband. It made you sick, you just couldn't stomach being around him anymore. You always wanted to make him happy, always feared of disappointing him. But this? Him asking you to marry a random person? It was something you just couldn't do. So you went away, ran out to the little hideout planning to stay there until Childe came back. You wanted to wait for him - you even got over your stupid pride and sent away a letter for him earlier this morning... and maybe this was your mistake. Carefully you tried not to be noticed by the people in your village, you didn’t want anyone to worry about you, however you also didn’t want to explain your disappearance for the last few days. The man who your father tried you to accept as a fiancé however seemed to have spotted you when you left the post-office. It was already too late when you realised that you were followed - the man made his way into the place that was only meant for you and Childe. After that your memory started to get blurry, how was that even possible it just had happened. He attacked you, you fought back, though the man was just stronger... you ran away, feeling the blood already coming from your stomach. Your body started to become weaker, your legs grew heavier and slower until you fell. Now he was above you, grabbing your hair and screaming. It was hard to even focus on what that man said to you, too tired grew your body and mind. 'I have to stay awake', you thought. It was clear that if you lost consciousness now... well, who knows what would happen then, you only knew it wouldn't be good. You had to wait for Childe, you had to be there when he got home.

There were more than a few things in Childes live he wished he never had to see. Seeing your limp body, blood streaming out of your stomach which you could barley cover with your hand, your hair in the hands of some stranger and your eyes struggling to stay open – yes, Childe wished this was something reserved for his nightmares, not for the reality he had to face now. It didn’t even take second for him to react at that sight, swiftly being next to that man and cutting his hand off with one of his blades, kicking the rest of him away. Childe would have loved to take his time with that man, torture him, make him regret that he was born, but what was more important was to stop your bleeding. Quickly Childe sat down next to you on the ground, using his scarf to stop the bleeding. “Ajax,” he could hear you whisper quietly. “Hey, I’m here, everything is fine, everything is going to be okay.” You desperately tried to keep your eyes open, to look at him. He was a mess, his eyes filled with fear and panic spread across his face. Never had you seen him with such an expression. For only what felt a few seconds you closed your eyes and then – “Hey, (Y/N) hey, open your eyes, talk to me”, you opened them and realised that you were in Childes arms now, his eyes switching from you to what was apparently the way to Morepesok. “Ajax…”, it was so cold. When did it became so cold again? “I waited for you and now you’re here… I waited. Kept my promise.” The last few words came out slurred. “Yes, I'm here, you don’t have to wait anymore. I promise you don’t have to wait for me ever again, just please-“ his breathing was heavy, he ran as fast as he could to the village in the hopes that the healers there could help you, that there was anyone who was able to help you now. “Please, don’t close your eyes, okay?” Before you could even answer him that you will try to keep them open you could already feel yourself slip out of conscious again. All you could say before everything went dark was his name again. “Ajax…”

The first thing you noticed was a warm hand on yours. Even before you opened your eyes you knew which hand it was. “Ajax,” you were a bit shocked at the sound of your own voice. It sounded so weak. You opened your eyes, seeing into those deep blue eyes looking at you. “(Y/N)”, he didn’t sound any better. Only now you started to notice the dark circles under his eyes and how his hair looked even messier than usual. Was he by your side the whole time? “How are you feeling?”. “Better than you apparently”, you joked, weakly grinning at him. He smiled back, rubbing the backside of your hand with his thumb. “I’m glad you’re better,” he replied quietly, looking down at the hand he was holding. “I’m glad you’re here.” At that his smile faded, turning into a sad expression and you already knew what this meant. “Don’t tell me…” “I’m sorry, I wasn’t even supposed to be here just yet and my early departure from Liyue apparently has caused some issues and… well, I was able to stay here until you woke up. The deal was when you wake up or-, well that doesn’t matter now. The deal was that I had to go back and fix the damage I caused once you wake up, which is honestly way more generous than I had anticipated.” You didn’t really understand what he was exactly talking about, you were still tired, but all you knew was that he had to go again. There wasn’t any energy left in your body to hold back the tears that were now falling down your face. Childe cupped your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “Hey, listen,” he said softly. “I promise you won’t have to wait for too long, when you recovered, I will send for you.” At this your ears peaked, looking at Childe with hopeful eyes. “Send for me, you mean-?”. “Yes, this time around I’ll be the one waiting for you to arrive in Liyue and not you’re waiting for me to come home.” At that you threw your arms around his neck wanting to hug him, causing you to hiss in pain. You forgot that you still had a stomach wound. “Careful now”, he laughed a bit at how enthusiastic you were about the news that you forgot your injury. “You promise that I will really join you in Liyue?”, you still couldn’t fully believe that he really was fine with it. “You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice,” you leaned back and held your pinkie up in the air. Childe smiled at you softly, interlocking his pinkie with yours. “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue off, so you never lie again.”

[cafedanslanuit]

day two   —   fights

pairing: saeyoung x mc

words: 1.5k

“You’re being just like your father.”

“Well, at least I have one.”

Saeyoung and MC both stare at each other, the latter one with her mouth agape. She lowers her eyes to the ground and then quickly assesses the empty living room, still trying to process her lover’s words.

“The fuck did you say to me?” she spits.

“I’m saying that if your father had stuck around maybe you wouldn’t be so inclined to stay around like a lost puppy.”

“That’s fucking rich coming from you,” she laughes coldly. She walks to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water, ignoring the sounds of footsteps right behind her.

“What? Because I’m right?,” Saeyoung counters. She takes a sip of her glass before responding.

“No, Saeyoung. If we’re going to talk about fucked up parents, then your mother takes the prize,” she hisses. MC doesn’t even register when Saeyoung snatches the glass of water away from her hand and puts it back on the table.

“At least I don’t latch onto the first person that is nice to me like you.”

The knot on her throat tightens, a sour taste on her mouth as she listens to his words. Her mind provides more and more ideas to hurt him back, yet the sole thought of hurting someone she loves so much leaves her heart in agony.

“Should have latched onto Zen, then. He wouldn’t be saying this shit to me,” she says, turning on her heel to face him. Saeyoung squints at her and she knows it was a low blow. But fuck it. He should have known before testing her.

Saeyoung’s face expression twitches and then he storms back to the living room. MC watches him start taping the opened boxes laying on the floor. The moving truck was coming tomorrow and the empty living room is a living proof of that. They were going to move with Saeran to a bigger and safer space than the underground bunker Saeyoung had been living in, and her heart had been filled with hope things were going to change. At least she hoped they did.

MC had noticed him starting to get away from her touch for the past couple of months, and had decided to let him be, knowing he was still trying to adapt to his new living situation with his brother and away from the agency. But every day, no matter what she did, his eyes became colder, his body always moving away from hers, to the point she found him sleeping at the living room once when he could have slept in the bed they shared as they used to do.

“What’s going on, Sae?”

He stays in silence, closing the box and ignoring her words.

“I just want Saeran to be happy. And you throwing money at the problem isn’t going to help him,” she explains, crouching down to the floor at his same level. “That’s why I said to stop being like your father, stop thinking money can fix something. He’s hurting, Sae. He needs to talk to someone, he needs professional help. And I understand you are afraid someone will get to him if he shares too much during his appointments. I understand, I do, but you need to let him get help. He needs it. And you sending more and more money to his account so he can buy himself stuff isn’t going to help him. Money can’t help Saeran.”

He doesn’t say a word, and even when he finishes closing down the boxes, he stays sitting on the floor, looking at them in a daze. MC sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder, but he quickly jerks his body away from her touch.

“Don’t talk like you know him.”

“But I know Saeran. I’ve helped him all this time, I’m the one who takes him to the doctor and I’m the one he listens to when he’s having a nightmare. I know Saeran as if he were my family.”

“But he’s not. You’re not a part of this family,” Saeyoung grunts before standing up and walking to the window. It’s closed, the sun almost setting and MC really hopes they can stop fighting before Saeran gets home.

“You told me I was,” she mutters, looking at him from her sitting position. Saeyoung huffs, a venomous smile drawing on his lips.

“I say a lot of shit, MC.”

She can’t no longer hold the tears from falling down her cheeks. Standing up, she walks to him, not caring anymore if she can see her cry. She’s avoided that at all costs, but now she can’t care anymore.

“Okay. I’m not family but…” she tries to reason. “We’re still us, right? We’re still… Saeyoung and MC. We’re going to get through this, we can--. I know you hate me right now, I do. But we still love each other despite all that. We do, we’re Saeyoung and MC, we--”

“No. We’re not anymore,” he sentences, turning his head and looking straight at her. The honey in his eyes turns into tar, and she feels like she can’t breathe anymore.

“But we--”

“Don’t you get it?” he asks, a tired sigh escaping from his lips. “I don’t even want to fucking kiss you anymore. Hadn’t you noticed how whenever you come close I just kiss your forehead?”

His words make her brain remember every instance Saeyoung pressed his lips against her head. MC remembers walking up to him while he’s cooking, her hands around his waist as she told him sweet nothings. She remembers him turning his head and kissing her forehead. The fond memory turns sour at his words, and she fights off the nausea as one, two, three, too many memories come back, now tainted with his harsh words.

“You’re an asshole,” she whispers, wiping the tears from her face. “You’re such an asshole and a bad person. Why would-- Why would you--” she sniffles, walking away from him. She stops midway in the middle of the living room and turns back at him. “You know what? Fuck you, Saeyoung. Fuck you, fuck you, I’m fucking tired of dealing with this, dealing with you. I know you went through shit and you didn’t deserve that, but guess what? I did too. Being abused is not a fucking excuse to be a piece of shit!” she screams. “All I’ve tried to do is help you and love you, and I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve the way you’re treating me, I don’t--” her voice falters and she braces herself, her whole body shaking with the force of her whimpers.

Saeyoung finally turns his head towards her, watching her break. He knows he should feel upset. A few months ago, the single threaten of a tear would make him lose his mind, running to hold her in his arms. But it had been long since he felt something switch up inside him, the immense love he had been developing towards his lover turning into dust the moment he opened his eyes one morning.

He didn’t know why. She was still the same caring and thoughtful MC that would look after him and his brother, pausing her own life projects to be there for both of them, never complaining or asking for anything in return, even in the times he had turned colder against her.

And he hated it.

Maybe because he thought he didn’t deserve that unconditional love. Maybe because he didn’t understand unconditional love. He wasn’t sure.

But he hated it.

“Then what are you doing here?”

MC looks up at him, raised eyebrows quickly furrowing at his words. She stops holding herself and takes a few steps towards him, her body trembling with rage-

“Saeran is the only fucking reason I’m staying--”

“Then fucking leave!” he yelled. “Go fix someone else’s mess. I bet you feel so good, don’t you?” he asked, a mocking smile on his lips. “All you’ve ever wanted was to fix people. Don’t you think I noticed we were just a fun little project for you? If you have the need to help people around you just so you stop looking at your own reflection in the mirror, then fucking do it. Go look for other people in need and latch yourself onto them, MC, do what you do best.”

MC stares blankly at him for a couple of seconds. There aren’t any new tears forming in her eyes, and somehow that makes it worse. Her shoulders have stopped shaking and now her arms are falling limply against her sides. She nods a couple of times and then walks to the door, grabbing one of her coats and then purse she left hanging there the night before.

One last time, she looks over at the person he thought was the love of her life, his face still empty of emotion and starts wondering when it all started falling apart.

“Good luck finding someone who can love all your rotten edges, Saeyoung,” she mutters.

He laughs coldly, not turning to see her leave.

“Same thing for you.”

[pinkhairedlily]

Chapter 9 - Student Council President Sakura

SCPS AO3 | PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Sasuke wondered for the umpteenth time since three in the morning why he agreed to go with the baseball team for their summer camp and wondered more why the student council had to do its orientation and team building event at the same time. He supposed it was to cut down on expenses, but both trips could have gone on without his presence.

Well, it turned out his shoulders were needed as pseudo pillows for the sleepyheads duo. On one side, he can feel the wetness of Naruto’s drool dripping every minute onto his linen shirt, and on the other, Sakura’s vanilla shampoo was arresting his senses. Five hours after a rough roadtrip, the two awake beside a very grumpy Uchiha.

“I demand a barbecue treat from both of you,” he huffed as they disembarked in front of the groups’ joint headquarters.

His mood soured when Kakashi emerged from the next bus, serving as one of the stand-in guardians for the activities, followed by Hyuuga Hinata. She gave Sasuke a stern nod when their eyes met, and he briefly recounted their interaction while waiting for the rest of the participants.

“Good morning, Ms. Hyuuga,” Kakashi greeted. He waved for her to come closer, and he introduced her to the students. “If you’re not aware, the Sports Council has rolled out funding to under-resourced teams across the state to be particularly used for summer trainings. We’re lucky we’re one of those teams. Joining us as an observer is Mr. Hiashi’s daughter herself, Ms. Hinata, who also happens to study in the same district.”

She generously bowed to everyone with a tight-lipped smile. Later, she assumed a position beside Sasuke.

“If it makes you feel better, I did not orchestrate this,” Hinata said. “And if there’s anything you should now, both sides of that relationship have been hurt, with reasons far from what you’re thinking.” She stopped for a whole minute and breathed in, struggling to keep the tears at bay. “So please, leave me alone.”

Yeah, he was a bit of a jerk to her, Sasuke knew that. But he also knew that Hinata had already developed an affection for the blonde idiot, regardless of her denial. As much as he wouldn’t want to complicate things, he thought it best for now to allow the situation to play out. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t here to entangle himself in someone else’s business.

They settled in the mess hall cum dining area for a quick breakfast and breakdown of house rules. He still needed to get used to the fact that this was Sakura’s last time to be a head organizer for a school activity. She will pass on her reins to the incumbent secretary by the start of the next term. Both him and Naruto knew the extent of her sadness in letting this position go, and even more so the need to look out for her the instance she does her confession.

Yet she hasn’t. So they became unwilling witnesses to this awkward tiptoeing with awareness literally skewed to only one side of the party, and Kakashi showering in ignorance bliss.

They went about their room assignments, and Sasuke, with all his luck in the universe, was stuck with Kakashi and Naruto.

“I won’t ask if it’s possible to trade rooms, but would you care to explain why you don’t have a solo room of your own?” he annoyingly asked the silver-haired man who was nose deep at the moment in a coverless book.

“I’m your guardian, Uchiha,” Kakashi replied while yawning. “I’m gonna go sleep so why don’t you frolick in the ocean with your friends while it’s still your free time?”

Unwilling to spend his time with a man who annoyed him so much for no reason at all, Sasuke trudged off his designated room and followed the many footsteps on the sand. The untrimmed hedges eventually give way to the expanse of the gray ocean, its waves roaring from afar, building up like shifting towers, cresting, and breaking into foam by the time they reach the shore.

Naruto was already neck deep in the waters with the rest of his team, the new captain certainly setting a good camaraderie example. Sakura caught his entrance and waved him over despite the new council members intensely blushing at the sight of him.

“Sasuke!” He heard her call.

But every step he took on the soft sand was like a laboring walk on a cesspool of blood, his parents’ blood.

“The turtle is faster than you, you slowpoke!” Sakura continued her incessant teasing.

Trust me, I’m trying to get to you, he thought. Screams broke out just then.

And he felt like he was being whirled away into the barrel of his repressed memories. He started seeing everything in slow motion.

Naruto shouting cramp cramp cramp, an idiot move that got seawater into his nose, and ultimately made him lose his balance. Quick on her feet, Sakura swam into his vicinity with sure, measured strokes of an experienced swimmer. He heard her scream calm down you blonde idiot! and his teammates were able to usher him out of her hold and onto dry land.

But she didn’t manage to follow safely. She was swimming, but her direction kept on going farther away from the shore. She was caught in a riptide. The screams changed from Naruto’s name to her, the intensity and volume of voices getting stronger with every second.

“Sakura!”

“Miss Pres! Someone! Help!”

“Help please!”

Save her, a voice said in his head. “I can’t.”

Her pink hair looked like a blob riding untethered on the arms of the waves. Yet he was rooted to his spot, his memory spilling over like blank ink. Suddenly he can smell the gasoline in the air and the waves lose their sound, replaced by the gasps and shaky breaths of his parents, and the ticking time bomb of an explosion.

He started to hyperventilate as his sight closed in on him. “Sakura, I’m sorry.”

Fast and light footfalls passed by his side, breaking him out of his reverie, and Sasuke’s eyes opened to a coverless book on the sand, its pages fluttering in the wind.

A silver-haired man dove into the surface with no hesitation, briefly disappearing, and emerging again in a few seconds with an unconscious Sakura safe in his arms. Only then did Sasuke run in haste.

“Give us space!” Kakashi yelled with a sliver of anger and panic in his normally laidback voice.

Sasuke would have to content himself seeing the next events play out in between warm bodies, his heart drowning the waves when he realized she wasn’t breathing and Kakashi had to start chest compressions.

Seconds worth of chances and he stood there waiting again.

She still wasn’t responding.

“Come on, Sakura, breathe,” Kakashi pleaded through gritted teeth. When he counted down to thirty, he leaned down and gave her two rescue breaths.

Still no response.

“Dammit Sakura. Don’t die now.”

Another set of thirty compressions. By the fifteenth try, some council members have broken down and started crying.

“Fuck.” Kakashi did another pair of rescue breaths. Then she vomited water.

“Clear the way!”

A group of paramedics came thanks to Hinata’s calm thinking and took the disoriented pinkette from Kakashi’s hold. Sasuke’s eyes trailed after them, her long pink locks swaying in the wind, and landing on Hinata’s fixated gaze on him, like she knew something he didn’t. Or since then has denied.

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

Sakura refused Kakashi’s instruction to go home. It was a close call, but she needed to see through a good transition in the student council, and a productive summer training camp for the baseball team.

“I’ll inform your parents then,” Kakashi said with a steely anger in his voice she was unfamiliar with. At whom it was directed she’ll never know.

“Ah, no need, I already called them,” she lied through gritted teeth. He responded with a brow raise but let it go for now.

“Get some rest, Ms. Pres.”

She did just that, holed up in a room for two days with minimal interaction save for her roommate Hinata who basically sidestepped around her in silence.

“How’s everyone?” Sakura asked her on the third day when she was about to scamper off to her observation duty.

“Your boys wanted to see you,” Hinata said. Sakura wondered if there was a tinge of jealousy in that but she saw the Hyuuga daughter as someone who already has all the good things in life. “But I refused entry since Naruto can be quite noisy and Sasuke is easily riled up nowadays.” Including sensitivity for others.

Hinata continued after giving her a plate of peaches and cranberry juice. “Your student council is still devastated, but they changed up their agenda to include a quick first aid training from a virtual trainer. Baseball team is doing quite well, far better than what I first expected….notwithstanding Haru’s absence.”

She noticed the visible change in Hinata’s expression after she uttered his name. “And how are you?”

The beautiful raven-haired looked at her with eyes brimming in tears. Poor girl never had someone to unload her broken heart to.

“I miss him Sakura.”

Sakura bites down on a slice of peach and taps her finger on one of Hinata’s clutched fist. “Do you still talk?”

Hinata shook her head, her fists clutching then unclasping each other in between pauses. “He was the one who ended the whole thing. Called me up for a date and we went to my favorite café, ordered me my favorite drink, and broke the news that he wanted to break up. He wasn’t angry when he said it, he was weary of everything, and I was hurt more by that fact. After I came home, I learned that he blocked me in all his social media accounts.” She took one slice of peach and stuffed it in her mouth, regardless of the tears that streaked her unmarred face. “I wanted to introduce him to Father, you know. Just until after I graduated so I could at least move away first. If he felt so suffocated by my family, how much more it was for me?”

Sakura puckered her lips with a tint of cranberry juice. “I think you’re both cowards.”

Hinata, who probably expected an empathetic response from Sakura, moved her hand away from Sakura and covered her mouth in surprise.

“It’s true,” the pinkette reasoned out. “Haru is a jerk for leaving all the work to you. He knows of your family so he should have stood up for you if he loved you. But you’re at fault too, Hina, because you know you could have introduced him earlier and faced your father’s wrath together. This gives me Romeo and Juliet vibes.”

“They both die in that story, Sakura.”

“Then West Side Story?” Sakura retrieved Hinata’s hand and put her hand over it. “I’m just saying I hope you find someone willing to take on that risk for you but also allowing you to have your agency to choose and act.”

Hinata doesn’t back away from Sakura’s touch. “You’ve always known what to say since we were in junior high.”

“Well of course! It’s because you and Haru are my friends!” She elbowed Hinata jokingly. “So Naruto?”

Blush bloomed on Hinata’s cheeks with a color far too intense to cover up. “Naruto? What about him?”

“It’s because of his strong people charm, isn’t it?” Sakura smiled, no longer looking at Hinata. “And if Haru had that personality, maybe it wouldn’t be difficult for your father to accept him.”

She was greeted with silence which told her that this was the truth, this was the reason why Hinata craved for his sunshine energy, and the reason why she had always wanted to orbit around him.

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

Despite the life-threatening incident that marked the beginning of their excursion, the remaining days have fallen into some sort of normalcy and mundanity. Sasuke, more than he would like to admit, found himself spending more time with the mathematics teacher who was on his second coverless book.

“What’s your bet?” Kakashi asked out of the blue. Prior to this, they shared the silence punctuated with cicadas and the occasional crackling of wood in the campfire.

“Erotica,” Sasuke replied nonchalantly, seated across him on a foldable steel chair.

The teacher almost choked on his water. “What if I tell you it’s a classic lit?”

“A classic erotica literature,” Sasuke insisted. “Because if it is as safe as you said it, you’d leave the cover on because bookworms are snobbish like that.”

Kakashi chuckled. “What a brat. It’s a good thing I’m not a snitch for the school board.”

“You’re just implying they don’t pay you enough.”

“You’re really a brat.”

Again, the silence engulfed them, not much different from the night that lulled everyone to sleep. Sasuke kept his hands inside the pockets of his thin jacket, moving away from Kakashi to return to their room. He debated about this with himself for the last two days, wondering if it would be worth it. “You seem like a good guy despite your reading preferences.”

“Excuse me?” Kakashi’s voice was laced with offence.

“Thanks for saving Sakura.” He realized he was too young, too unreliable, like the kid he was once before. It was just he never grew up.

And the week was done, and time was in constant shift. The reshuffling in classes left him alone, but never that much, not when two extroverts came checking on him at every break. The spot behind the library was still their hidden spot, the dragonboat team was still their background music, and the countless scenes on the side of the lake were still their guilty pleasures of what-ifs.

Maybe every last year of every phase in life ended up going so fast. Like how the baseball team sped through the preliminaries to the nationals in one relentless drive. And yet again, he found himself going back to the same café with his favorite cashier who colored her hair pink.

“You like my new hair?” Sakura teased. “Okay hit me, I’m on a 15-minute break.”

“Stop eating my tomato basil salad first.” Sasuke flicked off her encroaching fingers on his bowl. “The team needs funds. In the board’s defense, they prepared for jersey uniforms, travel assistance, and board and lodging.”

“Up until the semis,” Sakura clarified.

“Unfortunately. What’s the council gonna do?”

“I’m not the president anymore, remember?”

Sasuke sipped his cold americano, looking pointedly at Sakura, who deflected his gaze. He tapped the surface of the table, knowing all too well that she will spill something any second now.

“The council is gonna do a fundraising event,” she finally relented.

“Please don’t tell me it’s another pass-the-hat.”

She shook her head, but if she was at all excited, she didn’t show it. “They’re gonna invite student musicians and do a showcase in the mall park.” She shrugged. “Not my idea and not my place to meddle.”

“You know it’ll be a failure, right?” Sasuke asked. “The crowd and the weekend traffic won’t be worth the effort.”

She sighed in agreement. “Well, Kakashi-sensei greenlighted it. They must have a trump card.”

Sasuke was right for the most part. No one paid them attention, not the crying kids, not the parents rushing for the flash market sales, not the aunties catching up with the newest town gossip. The music club was already halfway down to the set, and Sakura was keeping her head low and hidden in her beret in secondhand embarrassment.

“Please tell me it gets better,” Sasuke almost pleaded

She eyed him from head to toe with a smirk. “We could auction you if you want. Girlies at nine o’clock want your number.”

He rolled his onyx orbs but flushed at her insinuation that he was worth looking at today. It wasn’t his expertise to dress up nor did it come to him to actually buy new clothes in the last three years. He just put on an oversized graphic t-shirt over a pair of jeans and called it a day, and Sakura stood there beside him in her 90s fashion silk blouse tucked into black pants with a leather belt, very much unaware of how she stole attention.

“Let’s leave?” he suggested.

Sasuke lost sight of the crowd when she looped her arm in his as they walked away to the first notes of Flightless Bird, American Mouth. It was sudden, probably on impulse, and not much to Sakura’s thoughts, and maybe those were the reasons why he didn’t pull away from the electricity of her touch.

And maybe he should have walked quicker so she wouldn’t have looked back and seen Kakashi on the piano chair, stroking the keys like that of a lover, and his voice crooning everyone to join his atmosphere.

So while she stood there beside him, all dolled up and beautiful from head to toe, with her arm linked with his in the middle of a gathering crowd, she wasn’t entirely his, her heart not swaying in time with his pulse, but beating instead to the pluck of his chords.

Ah so I really was in love with her. A realization too late and another missed chance to offer her his saving grace.

Two songs later and a beaming Kakashi taking pictures with the audience, Sakura finally unlinked her arm from Sasuke’s, and they walked out of the mall under the threat of impending downpour. With hurried steps and foregone conversations, they managed to reach the shelter of a small shed along the bridge connecting the mall to the train station just before the rain ensued.

“Ah I forgot to bring an umbrella. Funny since it was scorching hot earlier.” She put out her fingers outside the cover of the shed, making contact with the drops. “Like it was sudden and inevitable.”

Sasuke kept mum about the umbrella inside his crossbody bag, wanting instead to drown in the rain with her.

“I wish it was that sudden and inevitable too – falling out of love,” she said as she took her wet hand inside for cover. “Because I’m running out of excuses to not fall further more.”

“You haven’t confessed yet,” Sasuke reminded her. “And we all know how that ends in this setup. You can never be together Sakura.”

“I know.” He heard her choke back a sob.

“I wish I could, Sasuke. But my eyes see him and then my mind plays back a dozen frames of him every second. I really wish I could do just that – fall out of love.”

She gave in to her emotions and cried with abandoned resentment and yet he saw her with rose tinted lenses – still beautiful in the woes of a first love heartbreak. His body started to move on its own, his arms hovering around her, an unspoken question of permission to touch her safe space, and she leaned into his embrace, an equally unspoken consent to envelop her in comfort.

They must have been lovers in the eyes of those under the passing umbrellas. His hug tightened at best, absorbing every convulsion in her small frame like it was his sole function.

“Would you like to use me, Sakura?” he whispered like a prayer he uttered under his breath for the rain to continue and give him a little more seconds, a bit more minutes, an illusion of stranded time with her in his arms.

Pools of emerald looked back at him stricken with fear. “It’s not fair. To you. To me.”

His ember irises held steady. “I don’t mind.”

“I do mind.” She cupped his face, soft yet calloused palms that tether him to this reality. “I do mind so I will not let my broken heart steal your chance at first love.”

But the rain has stopped as sudden as it started and she was out of his hold, running for her dear life out of the cover of the shed, through the bridge and into a train line he couldn’t follow.

But you’re my first love.

AO3 LINK | NEXT CHAPTER | CHAPTER 10

[shozaii]

Hawks, Aizawa, and Present Mic with an s/o who has a deadbeat parent? They've only seen their parent a few times in their life and they've pretty much never talked to eachother at all? Please and thank you 💗

(a/n): thank you for the request!💕 i hope you enjoy it🥰

p.s.; deadbeat holds the definition of a parent regardless of gender who does not want to take full responsibility on the child. for instance; on terms of child support,etc.

masterlist

rules.

————————————

a s/o with deadbeat parent(s)

pairings: hawks x reader; aizawa x reader; present mic x reader

warnings: deadbeat! parents

hawks

keigo has never really seen your parent(s). it was like once or twice, but not too many which sealed a proper meeting. and neither did you.

you wanted a change in that, so you made a decision to see them, when you could. it wasn’t for a purpose of reunions or such; it was for the sake of letting them know you still exist.

sometimes he follows you when he has his days off. knowing that you visit them after a gap of two weeks.he still had no idea with how distant you are with them. so when they did talk to you, it just seemed off. the exchange was really discreet, not much of looking each other into the eye. basically stuff that he finds intriguing.

it has happened frequently - they even pretended like you weren’t there. and it’s not like he doesn’t want to question you,,,he wanted to verify that whatever he was witnessing was actually according to his assumptions.

before he asked you, though, he has seen how unusually down you look, so while you’re both heading home, he gets you your favorite treats, or tries to distract you from what you were currently thinking. he might even go for little walks, just for you to get some fresh air while he rubs little circles on your back to calm you down.

that one day, he was sitting in the living room, waiting for you to be done. he started to hear things being thrown onto the floor, muffled screaming and arguing. maybe that would’ve been his final straw. so the moment you stormed out of the door, he grabbed your hand, leading you out of the house your parents resided in.

the whole journey home was pretty silent. no one talked. you were wiping away your tears as he held you close, wiping them away with his thumbs. he did mumble, “we’re almost there. hang on.”

once you were both home, you seemed to sob even harder than before. he didn’t dare to talk just yet - instead he had you in his arms, pulling you in closer whenever it got more intense.

when you calmed down, he looked at you, brushing your fallen hair strands away from your wet cheeks. “i wanted to know earlier. i really did. i’m so sorry i didn’t put effort into it; i wanted to make sure i wasn’t making assumptions-,”

“keigo.”

“yeah?”

“i’m sorry you had to see that. all of it. i didn’t want to tell you about it - what was the point, anyway? i just didn’t know it would get worse.”

“you don’t have to apologize, y/n. none of this is your fault, okay? now you’re here with me, and if i have to hold you in my arms for as long as possible, i would. now don’t you ever say that you’re wrong.”

and the night went on, until you fell asleep in his embrace. he was genuinely glad that you’ve let it out at the right time, and he’s going to do everything he can to be by your side.

aizawa

he didn’t mind if he met your parent(s) or not. shouta most probably had this thought of you wanting to know more about him; which is why you were talking less about it. all that mattered was your happiness.

he also knows the times you have visited them, and you do it alone. when you do return, you don’t exactly have the relieved/happy expression. it has always been sour. 

“everything alright?” he would ask, sitting up just to look at you.

“meh, maybe.”

“y/n. babe. you can’t brush it off with a maybe.”

you do,anyway. ‘tired’ or ‘feverish’ or ‘my eyes are so heavy right now.’

that’s it. he’s going to meet them, and he wants to see it with his very own eyes. what was going on over there? why were you not doing well everytime you came home? who hurt you, most importantly?

he waited until the day you told him you were going for a visit. he hops out from his nap, walks up to you, and tells you he wants to come along. of course, he did notice the worried look in your eyes. afraid that he might break the actual reason why; he had to ignore said look, and continue insisting on following you.

you had to give in - maybe the day has finally come for him to know more of them. well, you barely knew much yourself.

when he was there, he absolutely did not see it coming. how your parent(s) didn’t really bother about your arrival. how they definitely did, but did not notice shouta walking in along with you. he was baffled.

he was upset. sad that he didn’t know any of this earlier. the more he witnessed how it went down - the more he blamed himself for not paying attention.

moreover, how could you take all of this? 

he sighed heavily, and got a hold of you when you were done talking to them. “let’s go home. got anything else to tell ‘em?”

you stared at him, and then back at them. “n-no. not at all.”

the two of you ended up sitting on a bench in a nearby park, watching the sunset.

“so....this is why.”

“yeah. i didn’t know how to open up about them, anyway. i’ve never been close to them my whole life. it feels so surreal that i still have contact with them - you can say whatever you want, shouta. i don’t mind.”

“what even do i have to say? it’s not like you chose this path, did you?”

you shook your head. he wasn’t wrong.

“talk to me. i’m here with you for a reason. but then again - i’m sorry i didn’t pay attention. whatever it is, we’re going through this together. i’m not gonna leave you behind,” he said this while holding both your hands, eyes looking into yours once more.

“together,” you felt a smile creep up on your face after a very long, stressful day.

present mic

we all know hizashi as a fun, down-to-earth person. but like every character i’ve seen and connected with in bnha; i can say that he has the softest soul ever. 

he’s pretty observant, too. i can tell. a little change in his s/o’s behavior - in particular - and he rushed over to them, and confronts them about it.

one thing he has obliviously noticed in you is your change in emotions when a topic about parents in general is brought up. weird. everyone around him isn’t reacting to it, so why you?

you have shown him a few pictures of them. it was very small talk about them, and you seemed to be rushing through the topic. and he has offered to come along with you when you went for visits, but you always insisted that he needed some rest or he had loads of work to do. or you had other errands you had to take care of.

he was so confused. was this meant to be secretive? it was probably for the best, but he couldn’t stop worrying. every time you did go out(which was probably ranging from two months to two weeks per visit), he would sit and stare into the void, thinking of ways to ask you about it.

“how was your day, baby~?” he would ask you. you’d reply with “meh” while crawling into bed, nuzzling into him.

that was a drastic change in you. he needed and wanted to take matters into his own hands. this was a situation of now or never.

it didn’t take longer than expected, when you received a phone call from them. your relatives have encouraged you to go visit them after a week of meeting them. the recent one was heartbreaking enough - what was going to turn out from this?

the moment hizashi had heard of it, he was all dressed up in a jiffy. denying it would probably make him feel a little hurt - but what if he gets disappointed just by the relationship your parents have?

like shouta, he’d take a brief look and immediately feel like someone slapped some sense into him. this is why y/n was silent. this was why y/n was uneasy when anyone was talking about parents, this was why, this was why that; the list went on and on in his train of thought, eyes widening by seconds.

as expected, his s/o’s parents didn’t really welcome the both of you. it wasn’t a happy reunion. the tension built in the air terribly. hizashi felt terrible. 

you were such an amazing person at heart; always helping anyone in need. showering him with all the love. dedicating your life to becoming a pro hero with hard work and determination. endless smiles. this was a whole different look.

the visit your relatives have planned didn’t go too well. on the drive back home, he held your hand, never letting it go the whole time.

“well, hizashi, i’m sorry you had to see that. i didn’t know how you would react. you’ve helped me change so much in person and i can’t afford to lose you. never.”

his eyes widened. “woah, y/n!” he pulled you into a hug. “what do you mean lose? i’d have to say the same thing to you, babe. but i’m really glad you showed me what i deserved to know. i want to connect both of our feelings together, so that understanding would be so much more easier. don’t you ever think i’m leaving you because of this. i’m all yours.”

proceeds to give you kisses all around your face. he knows you deserve it.

hizashi has so much of love for you it pours out like endless streams of confetti. he has always been by your side; and will continue to do so. both emotionally and physically.

————————————

(a/n): this is my view on the topic. i didn’t want it to be too angsty, and made sure to add loads of fluff in it. i hope you liked it! :>

[kyuuppi]

(Un)planned (requested)

Pairing: Orihara Izaya x Pregnant!Reader

Genre: fluff, a lil crack-y

Word Count: 4.9k

As you walk out of the hospital you can’t help but to feel as if you’re in a dream, as if nothing is real. The only thing tying you to reality are the freshly printed documents verifying your pregnancy that feel unnaturally heavy in your purse. The reality of the situation was easier to accept than you expected, really. You have been married for a while and you can recall several instances in which you two hadn’t been exactly safe with your escapades. Being pregnant is not something that bothers you either—you have always wanted to have children at some point in your life. The only problem, the only thing keeping you from feeling properly excited by the news is the father of the child itself—Orihara Izaya. It is not something the two of you had ever discussed and, knowing first hand just how dangerous his field of work as one of Japan’s best information brokers...well, you aren’t sure if you two could create a healthy environment for a child to grow up in. Providing love and food on the table was one thing, providing safety and security was another.

At the thought of food your stomach involuntarily grumbles. You didn’t realize just how hungry you are until now. You hadn’t eaten all day, the nervousness about the doctor’s visit having ruined your appetite. It is by sheer coincidence that you notice a familiar face only a few meters ahead entering the infamous sushi bar. You follow after him without hesitation.

“Welcome to Russia Sushi,” Simon greets with a grin.

You smile in return before sidling into the booth next to the blond man you had followed in.

“Hi, Shizuo,” you greet shyly. The man nods in acknowledgement, already looking over the menu.“Y/n,” he returns coolly, “how have you been?” His gaze suddenly darkens as his grip on the laminated menu tightens and you can already tell what he’s about to ask next.

“Has...the flea been treating you well?”

You have no doubt one word of complaint about Izaya would have Shizuo tearing the city apart to kill him. Shizuo was one of the first people in Ikebukuro you had met who you could call a “friend.” Although he wasn’t the type to frequent brunch dates and sleepovers to watch anime and gossip, he always made sure to greet you with a small smile, regardless of how his day was going, and had promised to protect you if you ever needed it.

It was already several months into your friendship when you had started dating Izaya and at first Shizuo had...not been happy, to say the least. To the blond, Izaya was incapable of genuinely caring about anyone but himself. There was always an interior motive and the people around him would always be in danger. After several long, long months of persuasive speaking on your part (naturally Izaya just got a kick out of teasing the man about your relationship rather than seeking approval), an official marriage to the man, and Shizuo seeing you still remaining unharmed through it all, Shizuo finally seems to accept your relationship—or at least tolerate it. However, you know one bad word about Izaya and Shizuo would be ready to kick his ass to Hong Kong on your behalf.

‘I wonder what he’d think about me not telling Izaya about the pregnancy.’ You mentally sour at the thought and physically shake your head to get rid of it.

“He’s been an angel,” you joke. Shizuo scoffs and you end up giggling as well. Regardless of disagreeing on just how bad Izaya is, you both know he’s far from an angel.

He had always been more curved horns and pointy tail than halo and wings...but you love him all the same.

Before Shizuo can verbally respond (likely with an insult about ‘the flea’), Simon appears behind the bar before you two, ready to take your orders. As usual, Shizuo places his order first so that you have a little longer to decide.

“I’ll take the natto sushi—” you can’t help but to shiver in disgust at the sound. “—and today’s special.”

You perk up at that.

“Special?”

Simon grins at your interest.

“Yes, today’s special is yummy drink, tastes just like Russian seaweed farms! Special is very good.”

The idea of a Rusian seaweed farm drink is moderately concerning but between Simon’s excitement and Shizuo’s unbothered look you decide to order it against your better judgement, along with some fatty tuna.

Izaya must really be rubbing off on you.

You and Shizuo share a few minutes of idle talk while you wait for your orders. He tells you of the most ridiculous people he has had to collect debts or protect Tom Tanaka from this month and your laughter has you forgetting about all of your pregnancy worries. You’ve completely relaxed by the time drinks arrive and you take a sip without hesitation.

“Mmm,” your eyes widen as you regard Shizuo, “this is actually really good!”

Shizuo offers a rare boyish grin before he sips his own pale green drink, watching you go in for more.

“Right? You can hardly even tell there’s any vodka in it.”

 ‘Vodka!?’

You gasp, accidentally inhaling extra liquid before you begin spluttering in panic. Shizuo quickly jumps into action, harshly patting your back but careful not to use too much strength. Half of the restaurant is looking your way in concern and even Simon looks like he’s just about to catapult himself over the bar to help you when you finally calm down and your choking is reduced to harsh pants while you try to catch your breath. You think most of the drink had been expelled in your coughing fit but you still feel queasy and anxious. What if it hurts the baby?

“Y/n, are you okay?’ Shizuo asks, hand awkwardly rubbing your back in an attempt to be comforting. “Are you allergic or something.”

“N-no, it’s not that I’m allergic but...I can’t have alcohol for a while.”

Shizuo raises a brow at that and you feel grateful that everyone seems to have returned to their own work by now, no longer staring at you. Simon has left the bar to attend to a customer in one of the private dining rooms, leaving you and Shizuo essentially alone in your corner of the sushi restaurant.

“Why can’t you have alcohol for a while? You used to love sake.”

He sends a teasing smirk with the last part, referring to an embarrassingly drunken moment you’d had a few weeks into living in the city. Shizuo had sworn to never bring it up again but clearly he paid that particular oath no mind.

“Well, um…”

You begin to fidget nervously. Originally you had no intentions of telling anyone about the baby but...Shizuo was a good friend, maybe your closest friend in Ikebukuro aside from Celty. You have no doubts he would be nothing but supportive and kind to you in a time when you need it most—that is, after he gets over the idea of another person sharing Izaya’s DNA being brought into the world, of course.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone—not even Izaya. Especially not Izaya.”

Shizuo perks up at that, seeming interested in the prospect of you having something not even Izaya, your husband and the greatest information broker in all of Japan, knows about. Perhaps a small part of him would even relish in having something to keep from Izaya, some sort of “one-up” on the man.

“Of course,” he replies immediately, nodding.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself.

“I’m pregnant.”

Everything seems to pause at your confession. Shizuo sits stock still and as the silence stretches on you begin to fear he didn’t hear and you’ll have to repeat it. However, before you can open your mouth to repeat those incriminating words, you’re startled by a sharp snap and look down to find the wooden chopsticks in Shizuo’s right hand broken in half. You trust him and know he would never hurt you but your heart rate still spikes and you tense in your seat, hand subconsciously resting over your stomach protectively. Shizuo's wide eyes follow the movement.

“Y-you're…" He finally stutters out. "...whose is it?"

You gawk, suddenly offended.

"Wh-who!? It’s Izaya's, you dumbass, who else!"

"I didn't want to make any assumptions!"

Your anger quickly dissolves into giggles at Shizuo's panicked expression and he visibly relaxes at the sound. There are a few moments of moderately comfortable silence between the two of you before Shizuo sighs and speaks again.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised, you've been married for a while now." His expression sours once he mentions marriage and you can tell he's internally reliving some of his worst encounters with your husband.

"I just can't believe there's going to be two of them now," he pouts. "That annoying piece of—"

"Hey," you interrupt, a teasing smirk on your face. "That's my baby daddy you're talking about."

Shizuo’s pales, looking like he'll throw up in disgust at any moment and you can't help but to laugh.

Maybe this whole pregnancy thing isn’t so bad.

. . .

You had been wrong—very wrong.

After your impromptu lunch with Shizuo, as you were walking out with your extra bag of fatty tuna to-go, it suddenly hit that you were about to go to the home you shared with Orihara Izaya pregnant with the unplanned child he knows nothing about. You nearly had a panic attack several times on the walk there as you mentally played through a multitude of scenarios of how to tell him and what his reaction might be. Izaya is involved in dangerous, illegal work—you can’t imagine a family and kids fits anywhere in that. You were lucky enough to have been asked to marry the man—there’s no way he would be ready for children as well.

‘Would he tell me to get rid of it?’

You had worked yourself so much on the way that by the time you arrived to the apartment you were mentally exhausted and barely managed to place the sushi in the fridge before you collapsed on the couch and turned on the television to zone out until Izaya came home.

A few hours later a sound at the front door jolted you to attention.

“I’m home~!” a man’s voice cheerfully booms from the entrance.

You silently pray to every god in existence that you can pull an Oscar-worthy act before plastering a smile on your face and standing to greet your husband.

“Welcome home, Izaya! I bought fatty tuna, it’s in the fridge.”

Izaya’s vermillion eyes seem to sparkle at that and he immediately makes his way to the kitchen after shedding his trademark faux fur-trimmed coat. That buys you enough time to contemplate your next course of action and how you will break the news to him. You know that, despite the fact he enjoys games and toying with others for as long as he deems entertaining, he expects direct answers from the people who work for him like Namie or Celty. But how could you possibly just outright say you’re pregnant right now? The man is humming to himself while stuffing his face with sushi right now for god’s sake—the mood is totally off!

“—Y/n?”

Your own name startles you out of your thoughts and as you blink to tune back into the outside world you find Izaya learning against the counter directly across from you, eying you with mirth as he holds the plastic container of sushi, nearly half empty by now.

“My, my. Someone seems a bit distracted today,” he taunts lowly. You tense at that, fearing he’s about to ask you what you’re thinking about.

Luckily, he seems to be feeling merciful today as he simply repeats what he was saying while you were zoned out, his tone back to almost childish glee.

“I was saying I met with Goto-chan today—y’know the one who was on ‘vacation’ for while—” he uses air quotes with the free hand not holding up the sushi and you can’t help but to smile at that, unhealthily endeared by this odd, dangerous man.

“—well turns out he has a kid now. He even brought her to our meeting with his gang; what terrible parenting~! Right, Y/n-chan?”

You gulp before barely managing a nod of agreement, suddenly extremely uncomfortable with the topic of conversation.

“I would never take my own young offspring to a place like that. Sometimes meetings end very badly, y’know~,” he continues on. You’re suddenly aware of the sweat collecting at your brow despite the moderate temperature in the apartment and you wonder if the panic is showing on your face.

 ‘He...he doesn’t know anything yet...right?’

There’s a beat of silence in which you two just stare at each other. Your face feels clammy and hot but you try your best to maintain a neutral expression while Izaya’s lips are curved into their usual smirk with a playful glint in his deep red eyes—along with something else you can’t quite read but somehow evokes a ball of dread to form deep within your gut.

A few seconds later and the moment is gone as Izaya turns away to dispose of the empty sushi contained and is rambling on about something else you don’t have the energy to even pretend to listen to as relief washes over your body.

The rest of the night is spent curled up on the couch watching cartoons while Izaya works, not bringing up the topic of children again for the rest of the night. You decide waiting a little longer to tell him wouldn’t hurt—you just need some time to gather your thoughts and plan exactly how to tell him.

. . .

Somehow “a little longer” becomes “a lot longer” as every time you approach Izaya with a speech already planned, you look into his eyes and immediately chicken out. To make matters worse, you aren’t sure if you’re just being hyper-aware of all things related to children now or if the whole world is really out to get you but it seems babies are everywhere. A few days after that night you turned on the TV to watch something with Izaya only to find a pregnancy documentary of all things on which Izaya insisted you two watch because he wanted to “learn more about the development of his precious humans.” Another few days after that the two of you were on a rare evening walk together when a small, crying child approached the two of you claiming to have lost his mother while chasing a dog. Izaya unexpectedly took over the situation and handled it exceptionally well, diligently looking for the boy’s mother with you while keeping him entertained to the point he didn’t even want to say goodbye to Izaya when you two finally found his mother.

External factors like that made things a little more difficult for you as you attempted not to let your secret slip out but other factors were a lot more difficult to hide—such as your slowly but steadily growing belly and strange new mood swings. The former was easily remedied by electing to wear your looser more comfortable clothing. Izaya had never been a physically affectionate partner so you didn’t have to worry about him noticing your stomach in a hug or anything like that and he never pushed when you turned down his occasional sexual advances at night citing that you were too tired or had a stomach ache. Your mood swings and other hormonal changes, however, were not so avoidable.

The first time you had raised your voice at him—and over something so small as coming home half an hour later than he said he would—came as a surprise to both of you. After a moment of wide eyed staring from both sides he seemed to recover quickly though and teased you about missing him too much. A few times you had also spontaneously burst into tears for no apparent reason, to which he simply pulled you into his side and started telling you a random funny story about his adventures at work until your tears stopped.

But even with Izaya being so unintentionally helpful in keeping your secret, the pressure and guilt of constantly lying to your own husband and the man famed for knowing everything gradually eats at you day-by-day, hour-by-hour, and minute-by-minute until you are constantly seeking a relief from the stress. Sometimes that comes in form of finishing a whole box of chocolates, sometimes via napping for six hours straight, and sometimes through social media and chatrooms.

One Thursday afternoon you log in to the chat for the first time since finding out you’re pregnant, pleasantly surprised to see your two favorite members already online.

▶▶ [USER01] has entered the chat.

[Tarō Tanaka] Hello, User-san. Long time no see.

[Setton] we missed u User-chan.

You smile, instantly feeling better with the online presence of your friends.

[USER01] hey, guys. whats up?

[Setton] Tanaka-san was just talking about volunteering at the daycare.

[Tarō Tanaka] Ah, I just had some freetime…

[Setton] don’t be modest. ur really amazing Tanaka-san.

[Tarō Tanaka] Ahaha, really it’s nothing! I just played with some babies for a few hours...

[Setton] nonsense. don’t u think Tanaka-san is cool, User-chan?

You take a second too long to answer, suddenly feeling anxious by the reminder of daycares and babies. You wonder if you and Izaya will leave your own child at a daycare some day...if he even accepts the child.

[USER01] ah, yeah..very cool

[Tarō Tanaka] User-san are you alright? You seem a little off today, you’re usually more talkative...

[Setton] u know u can tell us anything. we’re friends.

You hesitate to type, your trembling hands hovering over the keyboard as you consider your options. On one hand, you feel guilty at the prospect of telling more people who are not your husband before actually telling Izaya himself. As the father, regardless of his reaction, he deserved to be the first to know. On the other hand, keeping these overwhelming feelings to yourself makes you feel as if you’ll burst at the seams. So much stress can’t be good for the baby.

  [USER01] well, to be honest I’m….

▶▶ [Kanra] has entered the chat.

[Kanra] Yahoo~! (≧∇≦)/

[Kanra] What is everyone talking about today?? owo

[USER01] nothing much!! just the weather..it has been so hot lately!

[Tarō Tanaka] But it’s September…

[Setton] ???

[Setton] ah yeah, nothing much i guess...how are u Kanra?

[Kanra] Ehh~ What’s with this weird atmosphere!? I feel like everyone is keeping secrets from Kanra-chan! (●´^｀●)

[USER01] no way!! not at all! ah, its already this late? I have to get dinner soon, bye-bye!!

[Tarō Tanaka] It’s only 2 o’clock though...

▶▶ [USER01] has left the chat.

Your laptop closes with a resounding tap and you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Izaya seems to have impeccably awful timing. You hate to think you were moments away from confessing your secret right in front of him and two mutual friends in a public chat room. You’re fairly certain that must be among the top ten worst ways to announce a pregnancy.

Frazzled, you head to the kitchen to make a snack.

After shuffling through the refrigerator for a few minutes, pushing aside suddenly unappetizing leftovers of Chinese take-out and pizza, you settle on sliced pineapple, kimchi, and a pack of microwaveable rice from the cabinet. Even you knew the combination was abhorrent in normal circumstances, but for the past few weeks you found yourself craving obscure combinations of food from ice cream drizzled with honey mustard to canned tuna and chocolate.

You are only a few bites in when you hear the familiar sounds of the front door opening and your husband announcing his arrival. The lanky man immediately slips into the kitchen to greet you with a small peck on the top of your head.

“I see my favorite little human is enjoying one of her...creations again,” Izaya comments.

When you look up you catch the split second of disgust on his features as he eyes your bowl before he quickly schools his expression back into something more neutral. You almost laugh.

“Do you want me to make you some?” You can’t help but to tease, trying your best to feign a serious expression as you ask.

Izaya looks mildly horrified before playing it off with a dismissive laugh.

“No thanks, I already ate.”

He gracefully breezes past you to make his way through the living room and to his personal office in the back where he make quick work of logging into his desktop. It is a usual occurrence—despite being home his work is never truly finished. He has to be flexible in his field, ready to gather new intel the moment it becomes available. It is strange to compare Izaya to anyone with a regular job but you often find yourself thinking he must really love his career if he invests so much of himself into it. You’re sure that by now he has done enough odd jobs to no longer need the money to live the rest of his life worry-free and yet he continues to work relentlessly, never taking a vacation day once in the years you’ve known him.

“By the way,” Izaya calls out, interrupting your thoughts.

“I have some things to take care of in Ōsaka this weekend. I’ll be back Sunday night.”

He glances up from his computer to send you a teasing smirk.

“Try not to get too lonely without me~”

You nearly choke on a piece of pineapple as you fluster, immediately denying his claim despite his obnoxious laughter drowning out your protests.

It is not until you lie in bed that night, trying to fall asleep, that you recognize this could be the moment you’ve been waiting for.

. . .

The next morning, after seeing Izaya off for the weekend, you grab your laptop and log into your nearly forgotten Pinterest account to look for cute pregnancy announcement ideas. With Izaya physically out of the house for more than 24 hours you feel the pressure of constantly hiding all clues lifted off your shoulders and you feel free to properly put something together that you hope will result in a more positive reaction from him than just blurting it out of the blue. You have to periodically remind yourself that this is his child as much as it is yours and he is just as responsible for creating it so that you don’t psych yourself out imagining him blaming you for potentially ruining his life.

A majority of the pins you scroll through are immediate no’s. They’re either way too corny or tacky and you highly doubt Izaya would appreciate the humor in a “thx for knocking me up!” sticker.

...Okay well maybe he would but you certainly wouldn’t.

By the twelfth page you feel exasperated. You’re almost tempted to just send him an “I’m pregnant” text right now to get it over with—at least you won’t be there to see his expression in realtime. That’s when you stumble upon the pin. You immediately click the little square before it loads into an image that takes up your full screen. On the image is a white marble background, likely a kitchen countertop, with a round white cake in the center with the words “we’re having a baby!” sprawled on top in purple icing.

It is simple, to the point, cute, and most importantly—cake.

Who doesn’t love cake?

 ‘Well, Izaya doesn’t really like sweet things that much…’

You mentally tell your self-conscious to shut up. A cake would be perfect.

With your mind made up, slam your laptop shut and get dressed to go to your nearest bakery and place your order.

. . .

On Sunday afternoon you pick up your cake from the bakery, only mildly embarrassed by the amount of times the owner bids you a “congratulations” and “your husband is lucky man!” When you make it back to the apartment and open up the blue pastry box on the counter everything suddenly feels very real. The cake itself is perfect—exactly like the picture you saw that day on Pinterest. A white buttercream base with beautiful purple letters spelling out “we’re having a baby!” in cursive. There are even small yellow flowers surrounding the edges, as suggested by the shop owner.

It looks absolutely delicious but you feel like you’re going to throw up.

According to Izaya’s text that morning he’ll be back within three hours from now and that’s when you’ll have to wordlessly hand him this cake and watch as his expression morphs into something you’ve likely never seen before.

‘What if he just abandons us?’

Your right hand unconsciously wraps over the now noticeable little bulge on your stomach. It’s too late to have second-thoughts, you reason with yourself, the longer you draw this out the worse it will be. You decide a quick nap would do some good to ease your nerves. You’ll set your alarm for half an hour from now then clean the apartment and put on some soothing cartoons until Izaya gets home. After gingerly placing the cake box in the refrigerator you shuffle up the stairs to the bedroom. You’re unconscious almost as soon as your head hits the pillow.

. . .

When you peel your eyelids open you find yourself feeling more calm than you remember feeling after a nap. You stretch each of your limbs and wriggle your toes as you allow your foggy brain to properly wake up.The rays of light streaming through the blinds seem to radiate a comforting warmth to fight of the chill of the bedroom.

 ‘Wait...light!?’

A rush of panic overtakes your system and you scramble to find your phone on the bedside table, nearly screaming when you read the blaring white digits on the screen.

 9:07AM

You didn’t just take a nap, you slept through the night.

Your head whips around to find the other side of the bed neatly made, just as it was when you climbed in bed yesterday. Maybe you still had a chance—maybe some unforeseen thing happened and Izaya had to spend an extra night in Ōsaka. You nearly trip and faceplant several times in your haste to rush downstairs and into the kitchen where you’d hid the cake.

Placing the cold box on the counter, your hands tremble lightly as they slowly lift the lid.

You heart skips a beat.

One perfectly sized slice was missing, leaving only a few crumbs in its wake.

You don’t even have time to have a proper mental breakdown before a door slams shut. “Ah, I see you’re finally awake~!”

Almost in slow motion your eyes slide from the cake to the tall black haired man holding a bag of what some distant part of your brain recognizes as breakfast from your favorite café. Izaya looks unbothered, irritatingly so, as if he had no idea of the inner turmoil you are currently experiencing.

“You must have been exhausted—you didn’t even stir when I came in last night.”

He has the audacity to exaggerate a pout as he whines, “it made me feel unwelcome, y’know~”

“Th-the...cake...” you barely manage to stutter out, struggling to make sense of the current situation.

“Hmm?” he hums, the smirk of his lips making it apparent he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

“Ah, yes, thank you for the treat~ I don't usually like sweets but this one was surprisingly delicious~!”

He begins to casually place his bags on the counter across from you and pull out the breakfast items, explaining nothing more and even humming a bit to himself as he works to sort the food.

God you want to punch him.

You swallow thickly to steady yourself before trying again.

“S-so what do you think about...it” you ask, awkwardly gesturing to your stomach..

"Hmm? Ah, the vanilla was good but there was a little too much icing—"

"NO DUMBASS, I WAS TALKING ABOUT THE BABY!” You finally snap, face bright red in anger.

Izaya only guffaws, laughing as if you had just cracked the joke of the century. You’re only split seconds from throwing the whole cake at him when his laughter finally dies down and he slides around the counter and to your side. He wraps his arms around your waist, hands gently resting on either side of your belly and you feel your heart flutter unexpectedly at the tenderness of the action.

“You’re so cute when you think you’re hiding something from me.”

Your breath hitches.

“Wh-what? What do you mean by that—” you desperately attempt to turn to face him but his hold keeps you firmly in place.

“I’ve known since day one~” he sing-songs, sounding annoyingly proud of himself. “I’m surprised you finally decided to tell me though. I was starting to think you’d wait until you went into labor and needed a ride to the hospital,” Izaya jokes. “No way,” you protest, “that’s literally impossible—there’s no way you could have known already.”

He moves one arm from your body to swipe at some frosting on the forgotten cake, bringing it over to your lips in an offering you accept without thinking, taste buds tingling at the sweetness.

“Silly Y/n—I’m an expert at planning, y’know? All those times we ‘forgot’ to use protection weren’t an accident~”

Your whole body seems to erupt in flames as a blush takes over your face. This time, you really do hit him.

“I-idiot!!”

[jazminebrightxx]

LIKE MAGIC

°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°

SHOW: Teen wolf

CHAPTER THREE: “works like magic”

EPISODE: 3x02 “chaos rising”

(part two)

The sudden fact and shock of Erica's death hung in the air, tension rising between Derek and Isaac. After Kaitlin had passed out Stiles grew worried for his childhood best friend. But the thought of the bombshell she had dropped on the two of them not even an hour ago still loomed in his mind.k

He looked at the brunette who sat on a table, her uncle looked here over, double checking she was okay, Stiles was confused, he didn't know how to feel about the fact that the girl he'd known his whole life was a supernatural. In one instance, he still just saw Kaitlin, the girl he had grew up with, the girl who's mom was best friends with his mom before she died. He saw the way her nose crinkled up when she laughed and the dimples when she smiled. Or how she played with her collarbone when she was nervous. Then on the other hand, he saw her in a whole new light, she was a witch, he'd seen her do it, she held Isaac down so effortlessly and was willing to hurt herself to help.

Kaitlin caught Stiles gaze, sighing, she says a few words to her uncle, jumping from the table and made her way over to the two friends, awkwardly standing in front of them.

"We should talk" she stated, her arms crossed over her chest, the boys look to each other, silently agreeing "okay" They make their way outside, standing near the redheads car, she leans against the hood as she crosses her arms.

"Why would you lie to us?" Scott questions, a scowl grows on Kaitlin's face, shaking her head slightly "I didn't lie to you, I'd never lie to you. I just..." she sighs, looking at her feet.

"My mom tried to hide it from me for the first few years of my life" she looks up at the two, slight hurt in her eyes

"When it finally happened she explained everything to me, but made me swear to keep it a secret" her voice was horse, her head still slightly sore.

"How'd it happen" Stiles questions from his place, standing against the wall across from the redhead

"Eight years ago" she starts "I came home from school after a really bad day" she takes a quick glance at Stiles, the boy listening intently. "Every little thing annoyed and agitated me, then I got really upset with my mom, which ended in me shattering my kitchen windows without trying" she chuckles lightly at the memory.  "she knew she had to tell me after that, I was young, but I wasn't dumb"

"She explained everything to me, but even if I was allowed I couldn't tell you guys" her voice wavers, emotion building up slightly, she looks to Stiles "you had just lost your mom" then to Scott "and your dad...you were just kids"

"Katie you were a kid too"

Kaitlin goes quiet, looking down at her feet, she sighs "it was so hard, when I moved away, it killed me. I hated it, the thought that I might never see you guys again, I thought that I would never get the chance to tell you guys the truth" she shakes her head, looking back at her friends.

"The reality of it set in when Lydia told me she knew" the two boys look at each other dumbfounded, Kaitlin laughs

"Yeah that's how I felt, she said something about a feeling"

"Psychic" Stiles mumbles

Scott steps forward, his arms slightly crossed "Katie, I think I speak for us both when I say, we don't blame you and we're okay with it" he smiles "but how did you know about... you know, me" Kaitlin smiles

"About two weeks before I moved back, deaton came to Boston for the weekend. He sat me down and explained everything, Peter, Derek, the kanima and what's currently happening, the alpha pack" Scott smiles with her "have to admit, I was speechless"

Stiles stands straight from his position, clapping his hands together. He walks forwards standing beside Kaitlin and wrapping an arm around her shoulder

"Well, I for one am very excited for all of the 'Sabrina the teenage witch' jokes I'm about to make" he jokes, Kaitlin laughs at him, wrapping her arm around stiles lower back, he pulls her closer, squeezing her comfortably

"Looking forward to it."

******

"She's not dead" Derek Hale yelled at his beta, Isaac flinched at the loudness of his voice, the two had been arguing over the status of Erica.

"Derek, he said, 'there's a dead body. It's Erica.' Doesn't exactly leave us much room for interpretation" Stiles explains, Kaitlin sat beside Isaac on a counter, rubbing her temple in irritation

"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?" Kaitlin rolls her eyes, growing tired of the same conversation "someone else obviously"

"Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle." He looks to Isaac "the one who saved you?"

"No, she wasn't like us, and whoever was in the vault with Boyd was." Stiles crosses his arms, a sigh escaping his lips.

"What if that's how Erica died? They pit them against the each other during the full moons and see which one survives, it's like werewolf thunder dome" Stiles rambles, Kaitlin lets out a breathy chuckle, Stiles' humor always slipped through at the worst times.

"Then we get them out tonight" Derek pushes even further

"Be smart about this, Derek. You can't just go storming in" Deaton buts in. But Derek won't give up "if Isaac got in, then so can we"

"But he didn't get through the vault door, did he?" Kaitlin finally says, the alpha turning his gaze to her "we need a plan"

"How are we going to come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than 24 hours?" He questions the witch, a smug look on his face, challenging her. She gives him an exasperated look.

"Oh I don't know you tell me, your the one that plans on getting them out tonight?" She sits up from her position, Derek glares at the witch

"Uh I think someone already did" Stiles looks at his phone "beacon hills first national bank closes its doors three months after vault robbery" he reads from his phone, handing it to Kaitlin who skim reads over the article

"It doesn't say how it was robbed but it probably won't take long to find out" the girl hands the phone back.

"How long?"

"It's the internet, Derek. Okay? Minutes"

*****

Scott and Stiles went to stiles' house after leaving the animal clinic last night to try find out more about the bank. Kaitlin had told them she would stop by in the morning before school and see how they had progressed, what she didn't expect to see was the two boys Sprawled across the room, papers scattered everywhere, some coming from the printer, both passed out.

"Guys" she attempts to wake her friends, the two teens not moving "guys!" Still even at her raised voice, they slept soundly.

She crosses her arms, smirking, she kicks the chair Scott sat on, he falls from the chair, waking himself and Stiles up as he does.

The two boys smile sheepishly at the witch when they notice her, she stands tall smirking at the boys, wearing a light purple spaghetti string top over a long sleeve white T-shirt paired with denim high waist jeans and her converse.

Stilinski walks into the room, two cups of coffee in his hand, he hands Kaitlin one, the brunette smiles at him, saying a quick thank you

"I see you woke them for me" he laughs "time for school" he states, turning to walk out of the room "Wait, dad!" Stiles calls, his father turning back to look at him

"Heather?" Kaitlin's ears perk up at the familiar name, Stilinski frowns, shaking his head "no. Nothing yet" Stiles' face falls after his father walks out

The room is silent for a few moments, before Stiles speaks up "ten hours and nothing."  He states in frustration

"We're gonna find something" Scott reassures him, glancing at Kaitlin

"Finding something doesn't make Erica any less dead" Stiles argues, moving to clean his room "or Boyd any less about-to-be dead

"We still have time" Scott reassures further, Stiles glances at Kaitlin who shrugs

"Is this whole 'remain optimistic in the face of complete and utter disaster' thing apart of the 'be a better Scott McCall' program?" Classic sarcasm from the king of sarcasm, Kaitlin chuckles, trying to hide her amusement

"Not if it doesn't work"

Stiles sighs in frustration, crumpling a piece of paper in his hand "no, it works"

Kaitlin looks at the papers around the room "Uh guys, maybe your work isn't a total failure" she calls when she notices a newspaper article with Stilinski arresting a man outside beacon hills first national bank

She moves to show Stiles the article, the boys eyes widening and pushing the article to Scott, moving to run out of the room

"Dad! Dad! Wait! Dad!" He runs out of the room, Scott looks to Kaitlin who smiles

*****

Kaitlin jumps out of her car, parked next to stiles' Jeep. The boy groans when he jumps out of the Roscoe, waiting for Kaitlin to catch up to the two, when she does, Scott pulls out his phone and they start walking

"Alright, so we meet at Derek's at 5:00 to go over the plan, and then we don't get started until dark" he swings his bag over his shoulders, Kaitlin sighs

"Do I have to come, Derek's a bit of an ass" she states, Derek's attitude towards the whole situation yesterday make Kaitlin look at the man differently

"Derek's not all that bad, Katie. He's just sour about everything with Erica and Boyd" Stiles explains, reassuring the girl who nods "Yeah I guess, what do we do till then?"

"Well right now, we've got English."

*****

The school day had gone by like any other, boring classes and boring teachers.

After school, Kaitlin, Scott and Stiles met at Derek's like planned

"Okay, you see this?" Stiles pulls out blueprints and a red marker, marking a few places on the sheet

"This is how they got in, it's a rooftop air conditioning vent" he explains the route of the vault that the robbers had took

"It leads down inside into the wall of the vault, which is here. Okay?" He circles the section where the vent is.

"One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft, now that space is so small it took him about 12 hour to drill into that wall, which is stone by the way." He continues, glancing back and forth

"Then throughout the rest of the night, they siphoned the cash up to the guys in the roof, through that one little shaft in the wall. Boom!" He hits the table, putting the cap on the marker

"Can we fit in there?" Scott questions, leaning over the table and observing the sheet

"Yes, we can, but very, very barely." Stiles continues to hit the paper lightly as he talks "and they also patched the wall, obviously,so we're gonna need a drill of some kind"

Kaitlin watches the three men from a counter near by, her legs crisscrossed under her

"I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit.." Stiles starts to ramble again but is cut off by Derek

"Look, forget the drill." He states, Stiles freezes in his place, moving his fist slightly up and down "sorry?"

"If I go in first, how much space do I have?" He looks down at the prints, his mind set in stone

Stiles questionably eyes him, glancing at Scott and then back. "What do you think you're gonna do Derek?"

"Are you gonna punch through the wall?" They straighten up, Derek crossing his arms

"Yes, stiles, I'm gonna punch through the wall." Derek smugly smiles at the teenager

"Okay, big guy let's see it. Let's see that fist." Stiles challenges the taller man, Kaitlin straightens up to watch the scene unfold

"Big old fist. Make it, come on." He pushes further, growing cocky

Derek clenches his hand into a fist, his arms still semi crossed.

"Get it out there. Don't be scared. Big, bad wolf. Yeah, look at that" Kaitlin snickers, earning a glance from Peter Hale who sat on the stairs

Stiles grabs Derek's wrist, putting his hand a few inches away from Derek's fist "Okay, see this?"

"That's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid..." Stiles doesn't get to finish his sentence as Derek punches his hand, Sending him backwards in pain, he hits his hand against the metal table. Kaitlin winces.

Stiles whines like a dying cat, falling around the room, holding his newly injured hand "he could do it"

"I'll get through the wall" Derek ignores Stiles as he quietly whimpers

"Who's following me down?" He rests his hands back down in the metal table, looking at Peter

"Don't look at me." Derek's uncle states "I'm not up to fighting speed yet. And honestly with Isaac out of commission, your not looking at very good odds for yourself"

"So I'm supposed to just let them die?" Derek questions his uncle

"Well one of them is already dead" Peter states, a sarcastic grin on his face

"We don't know that" Derek insists, Kaitlin rolls her eyes, sighing and jumping off the table

"Give it up Derek" she starts, all eyes turn to her "you do know what we're up against, right?"

"A pack of freaking alphas. All of them killers, ruthless killers at that. We don't even know all of them" the redhead crosses her arms, standing beside the table

"And if that doesn't scare your testicles back into your stomach, try to remember that two of them form together to make one giant alpha" she finishes, Derek looks to her curiously.

"She's right you know" Peter speaks up "I'm sure Erica and Boyd were great kids, they're gonna be missed" he finishes, stiles glares

"Can someone kill him again please?"

Peter looks back at Stiles, a stern look on his face. "Derek, seriously"

"Not worth the risk" he finishes, referring to the plan to rescue Boyd and the person in the vault

"What about you?" He looks to Scott, Stiles shrugs

"Yeah, if you want me to come..."

"Not you" Derek sternly denies, looking back to Scott

"Scott?" Stiles turns to look at his friend, pointing his thumb in the werewolf's direction.

"I don't know about Erica,but if Boyd's still alive, we have to do something" Scott states, Derek clenches his jaw but nods. Scott looks at Peter, he rolls his eyes and sighs.

"We have to try" Scott pauses, Derek raises his eyebrows "but?"

"Who's the other girl" he turns to look at Stiles and Derek "the one locked in there with Boyd?"

You should know, I am slow with updates. IM SORRY. but anyway have this crappy update :( I promise it gets better and Kaitlin is my favorite oc I’ve ever made so get ready to get to know her more.

[celestianstars]

Snowfall

Florian Munteanu x Black Female Reader

Summary: The power goes out when your cabin gets hit with a snowstorm and now you’re stuck with Florian, who coincidentally, is the one person you can’t stand 

Warnings: 18+, heaps of tension, daddy kink, unprotected sex, smut: light choking, light spitplay, general nastiness lol 

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Merry Christmas/Holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy this and I also just want to say thanks for reading and being so supportive of me 💖

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A lake house, three cabins and a whole weekend to get away from the bustling city life, make s’mores and sit by the fire with your friends, sounded like the perfect way to unwind from the everyday life things that were beginning to stress you out. 

It was a perfect idea, until you got word that Florian would be coming too. 

He’d been getting on your nerves lately and you couldn’t stand being around him much. 

You played it off as him just annoying you but deep down you knew it had something to do with your budding feelings for him. Florian had been good friends with you for years now and he’d always been just that. But recently you started thinking of him in ways that stepped beyond the boundary of just being friends and it scared you. 

Like always, you refused to take your own advice and confront yourself about actually being into Florian, I mean who wouldn’t be into him, you weren’t crazy for wanting him, but the cautious and rational side of yourself was trying to shut down those feelings at all costs, thus bringing about the tension and aggravation you and Flo both seemed to have for each other now. 

It was all playful but you were disguising a lot more under it than you realized. 

“There’s no way we’re gonna be able to be in the car together for that long, Deja.” you crossed your arms and glared at Florian who was busy smirking as he arranged his bags in the trunk. 

“Well looks like you two are just gonna have to work it out cause Marcus already called shotgun. Suck it up, sis. Come on we both know you wanna be next to him, I ain’t stupid!” she winked and walked away to get the rest of her stuff, leaving you no room to negotiate. 

She was your best friend and god you loved her like a sister but you were suddenly regretting saying yes to this trip. 

You were trying not to be in a sour mood about the whole thing but Deja was right and you were freaking out at the thought of being in such close proximity to him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t hung out a hundred times before, sprawled out over his couch, watching movies and talking, but now it felt different to be around him.

Thoughts of curling up against him, of feeling his arms wrapped around you tight, of his lips on yours, they raced through your mind whenever you were near him. And being in a car for three whole hours was far too much time for your brain to dwell on those hopeless scenarios.  

“Fine. But if I strangle him that’s on you.” you huffed and went to pile your bag in the trunk with everyone else’s. 

“Here let me help you.” Florian extended his hand, the smallest and cutest of smiles on his face. 

The fluttering in your heart was starting back up again. 

“I can lift things you know. I got it, thanks.” you stumbled over your words, quickly looking away from his gaze. You always felt like he could see right through you, like he knew what you were feeling. It disarmed you in a way you weren’t used to. 

You felt bad for shrugging him off and being rude but this was the only way you knew of to keep those feelings at bay. 

“Oh ok...someone needs to get laid, doesn’t she.” Flo snorted under his breath. 

“What is that supposed to mean?! I could say the same about you, asshole. I haven’t seen that one chick around for awhile now, so don’t be talking.” you flicked his bicep, knowing it wouldn’t do any damage but it felt good anyhow. 

“Nah, cause I don’t want just any girl. Forreal, I’m only gonna keep messing with you cause it’s cute seeing you get angry.” he crossed his arms and leaned against the car door. 

Your mouth dropped slightly, first at what he said and then because his biceps looked way too good all on display like he had them. 

“I’m gonna beat your ass, Nasty. Watch yourself.” you couldn’t help but laugh, not able to come up with anything else witty to say. Damn him for leaving you stumped all the time. He was too powerful without even trying very hard.

That part about him not just wanting any girl was ringing in your ears. What did he mean? For sure it couldn’t be you he was talking about, there was no way and you wouldn’t let yourself even go there with that thought. Not a chance. 

---

The drive to the cabins was beautiful, all the trees were a frosty white and all the nearby diners and cafes and gas stations were decorated with twinkling Christmas lights and wreaths and you were excited to enjoy some hot chocolate by the fireplace when you got to the cabin, a festive and cheery mood settling in. 

Being in the backseat with Flo wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it was gonna be, he only bothered you a couple times but other than that he was just as busy looking out the window as you were. 

You were thankful Deja’s dad had lent her his van for the trip because Masias and Sandro had come along too and there was no way those two and Flo were gonna fit in a smaller car, you’d be squished between them. Not that you wouldn’t mind being squished up against Florian but that was something you needed to not be thinking right now. 

The boys had the snack supply for the trip well stocked, not that they wanted to share any of course. But you were good at convincing Florian to share. You’d always kinda been good at getting Florian to listen to you. 

You remembered one instance awhile back where there was a group of guys and their girlfriends who were talking shit about you at an event because you had called out one of their boyfriends on his bullshit and someone couldn’t quite handle the truth, it took all your strength to pull Florian away from walking over to their table to confront them. 

All it took was for you to reach up to cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. He looked so angry at the notion that anyone was saying anything bad about you but you pleaded with him that they weren’t worth a breath of his, you didn’t care, you just wanted to enjoy the night with him, your friend. 

He looked you in the eye in that moment and you saw his eyes soften, his tense body relaxed and he nodded that he understood you. 

Now you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you that night and imagining a situation where he wasn’t one of your best friends, maybe then being his would be easier. But then again, who were you against the girls he took home, you weren’t anything like them and you just knew your relationship was strictly just friends, there was no way he’d be into you at all. He just cared about you that’s all. 

---

Your thoughts were dispelled once you reached the two cabins you’d be staying at, your mood lifting because it looked so beautiful and once you stepped outside, the fresh air and the gentle quiet of the place made you feel calm. 

Usually being in the cold wasn’t your thing but you were among your friends and you knew the  cabins would be cozy. Leaving your luggage behind for a minute, the group walked up to the front office of the place to check in and find out which cabins everyone would be staying in. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me! Did you do this on purpose because really Deja?” you were back to having your arms crossed and glaring at Florian who was smirking yet again and moving both his bags and yours into one of the cabins...that you would be sharing...because someone just had to pair you with him. 

“The answer is yes and no I’m not sorry bout it. Y’all gotta work out your differences, miss.” your best friend patted your shoulder and shrugged, knowing full well what she was up to. 

Of course this had to happen. Your stay here couldn’t have been roomed up with Deja or even Masias or Sandro, no you just had to be with Florian because it was just your luck he had to show up for the trip in the first place. 

But it was fine, I mean if he hadn’t been that much of a bother during the car ride, maybe the weekend wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

And to be honest, it wasn’t. 

The first couple hours were spent getting settled in testing out the fireplace in the cabin, taking pictures for social media and playing out in the snow until you got too cold and went inside to make hot chocolate. 

You were ganged up in a snowball fight with Masias, Sandro and Flo which you argued wasn’t fair because it was three against one and they had the advantage of being a lot stronger than you and just more athletic overall, so their win didn’t count, not that they listened to you but it was still funny to try and make your point. 

You were having so much fun with your friends, taking walks around the wooded areas to take pictures and go sledding down some of the bigger hills. There was even a place to go ice skating, which you were nervous about because you’ve never been good with the skates but naturally Florian was keeping you from falling. 

He wouldn’t take no for an answer, you kept refusing his help but then you landed flat on your ass after five minutes and reluctantly held his hand with a huff. 

“I got you, fetiță don’t worry. Just bend your knees a little and I’ll show you how to move.” his voice was so gentle again, deep and baritone sounding as he always was but encouraging and not in a way that was condescending either. 

You wanted to ask what the word he called you in Romanian meant but stopped yourself, a little too afraid of what he might say which you knew was irrational but you might fall again if it turned out to be some kind of term of endearment. 

Being in love with him, if you could even call it love, was proving to be very difficult not to think about no matter how hard you tried. The walk over to the ice skating set up made your heart race because you couldn’t believe how cuddly Florian looked in one of his velvet hoodies and a jacket. He always had impeccable style and you were annoyed that even his fashion choices turned you on. 

You were already frazzled enough being in the same cabin as him, completely alone, which was odd to you considering you would have thought he would have opted to take the bigger cabin and stay with Masias and Sandro who he was super close to, but you didn’t want to think too deep into it before you convinced yourself of something and got your hopes up for no reason, because you always did that and got hurt in the end, but not this time. 

Florian’s gloved hand practically covered yours completely and it made you feel small in a good way, and protected in a way also. He would give your hand a squeeze every time you managed to correct yourself after wobbling or when you figured out how to stop without falling. 

“Good girl, see you got it!” he bent down to hug you after he talked you into taking a lap around the rink by yourself and you were surprised you hadn’t fallen. Him calling you that nearly made you trip up because you couldn’t even count the number of times you’d fantasized about him saying those two little words to you, and he actually had. Well there went any resolve of keeping calm today. 

That night everyone gathered in one of the cabins and made s’mores and someone managed to get the old school projector in the cabin going so you could watch a Christmas movie. 

Somehow you ended up being wedged against Florian who didn’t hesitate to pull you into his chest because “Well you’re gonna fall off the bed otherwise.” which you couldn’t really argue with but you were still taken aback and resisted the urge to squirm at the way his hands were placed on your body; respectful and mindful of your space, but still comforting. 

You wanted to fall asleep in his arms so bad, he smelled so good and he felt warm and you were far too comfortable to move but you couldn’t let yourself do that, that whole thing about getting your hopes up again. It was just too risky to let yourself get too comfortable, no matter what signs there were. 

---

The next day would be where your unbothered attitude would really fall apart, however. 

You moved yourself away from his arms as everyone got sleepy and started to leave for their own cabins, Deja catching you on her way out. 

“I saw you all cuddled up over there. Come on girl, make a move. Stop hiding how you feel!” she whispered to you before hugging you. 

Sure, do that and then what? There were too many possibilities to that scenario. 

And then that morning you woke up to a good five feet of snow blanketing everything. Everyone was snowed into their cabins and now you were forced to actually acknowledge Florian instead of tiptoeing around him like you had been for the last day and really like you had been for awhile now. 

But you were stubborn and continued on like you had been, moving around the cabin silently, only saying good morning to him and a few short responses after that. 

Breakfast was interesting. He cooked something up for himself and though you hadn’t expected or wanted him to make you anything, he divided the contents of the pan evenly and set a plate in front of you at the small table you were sat at. 

“Oh...thank you Flo, you didn’t have to.” you shyly spoke up, picking up your fork as you realized how hungry you were at how good the scrambled eggs smelled. 

“I wanted to. And besides, how else am I gonna get you to act like I exist.” 

That made you tense up. Maybe your attitude had caused more damage than you thought. The last thing you wanted to do was make it seem like you were upset with him or weren’t acting like a friend, but when you looked up at him he was smiling like he’d caught you in the act of something damning.

And you’d walked right into it. 

“Sorry I-I don’t mean to be rude or anything, it's just that I-” 

“Can’t stop thinking about being mine and it scares you so you’re trying to avoid me?” Flo cut you off, taking a sip of orange juice from the glass he poured for himself, all while keeping eye contact with you. 

You nearly choked on your eggs and you had to look away too, his eye contact was too intense, especially after he just read you for filth with a simple sentence. 

“N-no, I...you don’t know that Florian.” you crossed your arms. 

“Sure I do. You’re not very good at hiding how you feel, fetiță. I know you want me.” he wouldn’t quit looking at you with those soft green eyes of his and yet again he’d called you out and you weren’t sure what to say or do, because he was right and you were afraid. 

You were trying to come up with something to say when the lights in the cabin went out. Surely this couldn’t mean the power was out...but after a minute of waiting and then another couple minutes of Florian checking it out and you texting Deja and Marcus and the rest, you got the confirmation that the power was indeed out for the foreseeable next few hours. 

“I’ll get the fire started, I know it’s gonna get a little cold.” Florian put a hand on your lower back and moved away from you and the light switch, his gesture making you feel like the conversation from earlier was nowhere near finished. 

He didn’t tell you how he felt about you wanting him and that made you nervous and even more visibly frazzled around him now. 

You finished eating while he started the fire and then excused yourself to take a shower. Your thoughts were racing, thinking about the man in the other room who could probably bring you to your knees, and god you truly wanted him too. He didn’t seem offended that you liked him even if you hadn’t said it outright, he knew and you knew. 

After showering and trying to rid yourself of dirty thoughts, you dried off and wrapped your hair up in one of your silk headwraps, too lazy to deal with styling it today. 

When you walked out you found Florian peering out the window at the snow that was now falling again and of course, with his shirt off. 

“Do you have to be so tempting all the time? It’s like 20 degrees out, put a shirt on Flo.” you sighed and eyed him up and down from behind before he could look. His back muscles were something you wished you could study for hours. 

“Yeah but I’m pretty sure me being shirtless makes you wet and I like knowing you’re probably thinking of touching me.” he smirked back at you and lay back on his bed hand behind his head which left his biceps in perfect view. 

His sweatpants hung low on his hips and suddenly you were too weak not to stare or think of what he’d look like without the sweats on. 

The fire was crackling steadily behind you, casting a warm glow across the room which contrasted the brightness of the snow outside. It felt cozy in here. 

“I don’t understand…” you sighed and hung up your towel to dry, pacing the kitchen area nervously. 

“Understand what? That I want you too, come on, Y/N you can’t keep denying that you want me. I want you to know that I’ve been thinking about you too. What are you so scared of?” he opened one of his eyes and smiled when he found you staring at him.

“It’s just hard to believe that’s all.” you sat in one of the cushioned chairs by the fire, pulling your legs up to your chest. 

“What, that I like you, love you even? Because we’ve been friends for years now, that gives a man a lot of time to catch feelings.” he catches your eye again and then sits ups. 

You weren’t even sure how to feel. This couldn’t be happening and yet it was. 

A thick silence hung in the air as you looked at each other, just the sound of the fire and your own heart thumping against your chest could be heard. 

“Y/N...c’mere. Please.” Florian spoke up after a minute, holding out his hand to you from where he still sat on the bed. 

You hesitated, unsure if this was a good idea. He could be playing you for all you know but at the same time, this was Florian. You knew him inside and out practically, you didn’t have to be scared of this, you didn’t need to keep playing this dancing game, you could let yourself get lost in him and trust that you’d be ok, cause Florian always protected you, you knew that since forever now. 

So you let your guard down for once, took a page of advice from Deja who’d given you a pep talk through a series of texts earlier and walked over to him. 

“I-uh I can’t believe we’re snowed in. It’s kinda cold in here.” you shifted on your feet nervously as you came to stand in front of him in between his knees, holding his large and warm hand. 

You kept your eyes focused on his hand and how it dwarfed yours, too jittery to look him in the eyes at such a close distance. 

“I know, it’s crazy. But that’s ok, I got you remember. Just relax. And I guess that only leaves us with one way to get you warmed up.” he chuckled and you felt his thumb brush over the inside of your wrist. 

Was this some kind of fever dream or was this real was your question because you couldn’t believe things that you’d only dreamed and thought about happening were in motion. 

“W-what way is that?” you swallowed thickly and shuffled your feet more, willing yourself to stay still. 

Your skin felt hot and you wondered if he could feel your erratic pulse holding your hand like that. 

“Will you let me show you? We can stop at any time, just tell me, but I want to do something I’ve been thinking about doing forever now.” Florian’s voice dropped just slightly above a whisper, his grip on your wrist firming just slightly so he could pull your hand forward to rest on his bearded jaw. 

Here goes nothing. 

“Yes, show me Flo. I want this.” you breathed out shakily, barely having enough time to prepare yourself before your body was crashing into his and his lips found yours in a kiss.

He tasted like orange juice, and smelled like his usual favorite cologne, lips soft, his beard tickling your cheeks just slightly. You were melting against him, your arms instinctively wrapping around the back of his neck to pull him closer to you. 

Florian was smiling against your lips, his hands on your waist, keeping you pressed against his body. It was like a dream, the sweetest kind. You were breathless from kissing him but you couldn’t and didn’t want to stop, his tongue slid against yours and you were done for. 

“You don’t know how bad I’ve wanted this, fetiță.” he sighed as he moved his lips down over your jaw and to your neck, which made you gasp again. Your neck was always such a sensitive place for you and it made you squeeze his arms in response, to which he laughed. 

“What does that word mean, Flo?” you hummed, turning your head so he’d have more of your neck to kiss, you didn’t even care that he was sucking marks onto your collarbone now either. 

“Babygirl. That’s what I’m calling you when I say it.” he pulled away after a moment, breathing heavy. 

You shook your head, of course he would call you that. You liked it, you wanted to hear him say that over and over. 

“I’m your babygirl?” you giggled and reached your hand up to rest on his bare chest again. 

“Only if you want to be.” 

You swore your panties were wetter than ever now at just the way those words had come out of his mouth. 

“I do want that, I really do. What should you be to me?” you inquired boldly, this was more than you’d ever dared to ask or discuss with him. 

“I should be your Daddy. Is that something you’d want, baby?” he smirked and picked you up so your legs were around his torso. 

He was back to burying his face in your chest and kissing you all over, fogging up your brain. 

“Hmm, is that what you want? Wanna call me daddy, want me to make you feel good and take care of you, make you mine?” he whispered against your skin, making you squirm from how hot he sounded. 

This was insane and you felt so hot and you wanted exactly that, all of it, everything. 

“Yes, yes I want that. Please, I’ve wanted to be yours for so long. Please make me feel good.” you whimpered and dug your nails into his skin, trying to relieve some of the aching in your core but being stopped by his strong arms. 

Florian turned around and lay you down against the plush covers, your legs still wrapped around him. 

“Yes what? Answer properly and I’ll give you what you want, prinţesă.” his forehead was resting on yours, arms braced on either side of your head. 

“Fuck..yes, daddy I want that. Please, daddy!” 

That was all it took for Florian’s control to snap, he wanted you and needed you and he promised he wasn’t going to hold anything back now. 

---

Foreplay with Florian was nearly enough on it’s own to leave you satisfied but there was no way he was gonna stop at that. 

The way he let you lay back and get comfortable while he let his hands roam your body, let you see the sheer size of them on you, how he could grip your body so firmly, the way he encouraged you to grind your dripping pussy against his thigh while he continued to kiss you was sending your brain into overdrive. You were pretty sure you couldn’t think straight already. 

And then your top was off and he was making swift work of getting your leggings off while he swirled his tongue over your brown nipples, sucking hungrily and looking up at you every so often to guage your reaction. He craved seeing you look so content, the way your jaw dropped open when his fingers slid over the wet folds of your pussy was everything to him. He wanted to make you make that face again and again cause there was nothing like it. 

Florian rubbed your clit gently, exploring how you liked to be pleasured with everything he had to offer. He was proud to make you mess up your headwrap when he moved down your body and finally buried his face in your pussy, tongue lapping up every inch of you. He liked that you didn’t know what to do with your hands and was very proud at how he could see your curls popping out of the scarf while he gripped your hips and held you to his mouth. 

He had pulled three orgasms from you with his mouth alone and your legs were still twitching when he pulled away to stand up and take off his sweats. 

Your mouth watered at how big he was when he took himself out of his boxers, a thick vein stretched across the length of his shaft which you wanted to run your tongue over so so bad. His dick was big, just as you’d always imagined it to be and girthy too, you just knew you’d have to really open your mouth to fit him inside and it made you wet all over again. 

“C’mere, I’ll let you get a taste.” he laughed at your pleading pouty eyes. 

You bit your lip and giggled as you crawled across the bed to sit on your knees at the edge, your hands running over his abs and down to grip his shaft, pumping it a few times while you looked up at him, his green eyes dark with arousal for you. 

“You’re so big daddy.” you leaned down to lick his pink tip, swirling your tongue over it like a lollipop. 

Florian grunted, his hand coming up to rest on your head, gently grabbing some of your curls. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna ruin you so bad, you have no idea.” he growled and helped guide your mouth down on his length, your spit coating him sloppily, just how he liked it. 

There was no doubt that he was in control here, the way he fucked your face and even spanked you when you started to touch yourself with his permission gave you a clear picture that he meant business and you were over the moon with it. You wanted him to break you, take you and make you his however he wanted. 

You coughed and sputtered once he let you come up for air, your eyes watering just slightly from gagging on him. 

“Open your mouth. That’s it, good girl.” he praised you and then spit on your tongue which made you moan so brokenly. God he was beyond hot. 

He told you to keep your mouth open before guiding his throbbing dick back inside the heat of your mouth for you to suck on some more. 

You were going crazy after that, begging and whining for him to fuck you, because you needed to feel him already, you wanted him far too much to be patient any longer. With your best “please, daddy?”’s you earned it from him, your body alive and humming when he began to rub his tip over your folds, his eyes locked on yours again. 

“Look how wet you are for me, you’re soaked. Fuck, you’re so hot you know that, prinţesă?” he leaned down to peck your lips, smirking when you tried to answer but couldn’t because he was pushing inside you now, keeping it slow and being as still as he could to allow you time to adjust to his length. 

“Fuck I can feel you stretching me open, oh god daddy!” you whimpered and latched your hand onto his forearm, needing something to anchor yourself to. 

“I know baby, such a good girl taking it like that.” he pressed more kisses to your lips, letting you get used to him as he started pulling back and pushing back in a little faster now. 

You pointed your toes and locked your ankles around his back, pulling him deeper into you once you were ready to take more, his surprise coming out in a growl as he felt how tight and warm you were. 

Florian promised you he wasn’t going to hold back and he didn’t. He was looking into your eyes as he began to fuck you, the slick sounds of your juices and his skin slapping against yours mixed with your whimpers and growing moans and his grunts. 

You were so far gone in what was happening, your head thrown back in pleasure as Florian pinned you to the bed and fucked you like you’d been dreaming of getting fucked for so long now. 

“Look at me babygirl, let me see those pretty eyes while you’re being fucked.” his voice made you tremble and as much as you wanted to listen, your brain was too foggy and jumbled to listen correctly. 

“I told you to look at me.” Florian chastised you, his hand coming up to grip your chin and turn your head back towards him, that same hand moving down to fit snugly around your neck, putting pressure on your pulse point and making your legs shake even more as a result. 

Who knew you’d want him to choke the life out of right here and now. The power he had with his hand around your throat like that, his body encompassing yours, you felt so submissive and small and his and it was everything you wanted. 

You couldn’t stop the moans coming from your mouth as Florian pounded into you, sweat slicking up your bodies even more, positions changing, him fucking you laying on your side, from behind, back to you being under him, making you cum over and over again. 

Your eyes were glassy and teary as he made you cum yet again and pulled out to cum in your mouth like you’d begged him to do. 

“Good girl.” he praised you once more when you swallowed it all down and opened your mouth with a cute little smile to show him. 

You’d never get tired of hearing him say that. 

---

Florian let you curl up against him however you wanted, your thigh hitched over his waist as you both caught your breaths, smiles never leaving your faces. 

“I can’t believe we just did that, daddy.” you giggled and hid your face in one of the pillows. 

“Me either, honestly. But I’m glad we did. And I can’t wait to do it again and again.” Florian massaged your calf, placing more kisses to your cheeks. 

“Oh yeah, who knows when the power will be back. We’re gonna need to keep warm.” you winked at him. 

“Exactly, daddy will always keep you warm and safe, baby. That’s a promise.”

---

Yooo this took me ages to finish I swear but I’m pretty happy with it and hope it sounds alright and not rushed or forced or anything!! Florian can come keep me warm any day he wants like this man will forever have me fucked uP! 

Thanks as always for reading and pls leave me feedback, I love hearing what everyone thinks!

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[rocksinmuffin]

Sin Queen, I loved your work for years but was to nervous to ever ask or submit any art or stories but that changes tonight.

Meet my TFA oc, Chain Angel. Given life by the allspark fragment like Wreck-gar later on in the series, she's made a place next to the orange junkion along with the other autobots.

Just like Wreck-gar her intro was sudden and chaotic, but unlike the sweet trashbot she much more self aware albeit confused of the world around her. Angel didn't start out as a fembot. Nope she started in her alt mode a junkyard dog. Great right? After the autobots heard about a giant metal dog chasing cars in the streets of Detroit, the first meeting was... a bit confrontational.

Her manner of fighting is close and personal. This includes the chains wrapped around her waist occasionally swinging and striking her intended victim or pulling them close in hopes of strangling with the pretty pieces of gold. At other times the head on her back can give energy blasts to blow anybot away. She's brutal to put it short.

Personality, accompanied with a New Yorker accent, Angel is brash, abrasive, and will not hesitate to say what's on her processor. She's the brain between the herself and Wreck-gar, acting as the voice of reason for the older junkion when the situation turns sour. So she's basically your hot tempered take no shit boston robo lady.

Her words consist of slang such as " what a schmuck", " ya mook," and "quit yer grillin." Everyone is stumped of how she obtained such a humanlike personality in such a short time frame, especially old bot Ratchet who has no honest to god idea of what she's saying. He thinks it has something to do from the trash pile she came from. But before Angel could lunge for any throats she saw little Sari staring up at her in curiosity her. Angel completely melted. cooing and nuzzling the little girl.

Upon seeing such a familiar design Ratchet somehow tracks down Wreck-gar all the while Sari puppy talks Angel into following her, chained tail wagging all the way. The medic is yelling and shaking him demanding what he did. Locking optics with the trash hound there's an instant pull. Shifting into her fembot alt surprising everyone, Angel steps closer and both emit a white glow the closer they get. Angel's demeanor softens finding someone that feels so... familiar. Wreck-gar feels the same way. It kind of feels like... home. After the meeting, the two trash bots become inseparable. Wreck-gar gives the name Angel saying she was his guardian Angel (most likely repeating it from human propaganda). They start using the terms "big bro" and "little sis" as Sari explains how they came from the same place in a similar way dubbing them family.

After that she becomes fiercely protective of anyone she deems a friend. This junkion will either treasure you or flat out despise you. (There's no in between.) And we're talking full guard dog mode. Her main favorites of the cast are Wreck-gar, Sari, and Ratchet much to everyone's shock. You so much as look at her family or friends funny she's out for blood. An example of this is when Sentinel made a snide comment about Sari being an organic in front of Angel, ending with her chasing him up a tree with Optimus snickering at his screaming ex friend.

Chain Angel has a temper that puts hothead to shame along with a sharp tounge. You insult her she comes back full force. Not only that but she has the strength to back it up. If your familiar with the tfa series than you know Wreck-gar has some serious power thanks to the allspark fragment. The only difference is Chain Angel knows how to use it. Which is good because she finds herself going head to head with bots three times her size (cuz this girl short, a whole head shorter than bumblebee) whether decepticon or neutral.

Lockdown heard about Wreck-gar housing a fragment and found the opportunity too good to pass up figuring Megatron would pay handsomely for it. But upon meeting loyal protector Angel, the bounty hunter is more than surprised to find a smol angry fem threatening to choke him to death with a gold chain. He then has an inner conflict from wanting to take her spark as well to wanting to date her. Another instance is Megatron himself humored Angel referring to her as a "mutt" patting her on the helm mockingly. Angel just stood there, silent, static cracking from her metallic hair. Let's just say the warlord didn't find it so funny when he only pulled away with a few wires sticking out of the slot where his arm should have been.

But rough tough psychobot aside, Angel is super sweet towards humans finding them adorable. She'll refer to her friends as "boo," "sweetspark," and "Hon." She even calls oppy "Hot lips" or Bulkhead as "Dreamboat" flustering them immensely. She basically gives nicknames to anyone who she considers a friend, though it does get confused with flirtation often.

Despite being from Earth it doesn't stop her from help the autobots whenever she can with Wreck-gar by her side often cleaning up the city after decepticon attacks and coming to the rescue when there's an injured friend. The trash siblings even have an intro when making it to the scene. "I am Wreck-gar." "And I am Angel." "And we are your heroes!"

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Submitted by @purple-striped-shirt​

Oh!!!!!!!! I love your Transformers character, she’s so cute!!!! What a fun character!

I’m so glad you decided to share her!

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 9

Quality Time

SUMMARY: Liam gets a chance to talk with Gabriel and Eleanor

Word Count: ~5.5k

Warning: Mention of character death

A/N: this one’s a little longer, but is hopefully a bit uplifting compared to the previous chapters. 

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

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I hope I got everyone tagged! If I missed anyone, or anyone wants to be added/removed, let me know!

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Liam - 

The morning after they had bought gifts and candies for Gabriel and Eleanor, Liam and Drake were in the hotel trying to figure out which gifts would lighten the children up quickest.

Once they picked out the gifts Liam was going to give first, the limousine brings them to the hospital.

Drake’s phone rings after he steps out of the car. He looks at it for a moment, then puts it back in his pocket.

“Who is it?” Liam asks, looking back.

“It’s… uh… Jessica.”

“You should take it,” Liam advises. He wonders, I thought they were no longer together? The last time I heard about her was more than three months ago. Turning back to Drake, he goes, “Have you talked to her recently?”

“No, actually.” He takes his phone out of his pocket again and stares at it.

“She’s probably worried about where you are.”

Drake and Liam stare at each other for a moment. Finally, Drake nods stiffly. “I’ll see you up at Riley’s room?”

“Of course,” Liam says, and walks into the hospital.

All of the nurses and doctors on Riley’s floor knew Liam by now. They all wave and politely greet him. Liam finds himself melting back into stoic expressions through the uneasiness. Even though him and Riley had been properly re-introduced, she still didn’t remember enough for Liam to tell her how much she still meant to him. He did his best to keep his hopes up — now that Gabriel was in the picture, there was no way he was going to let his own worries and Charlotte Brooks’ aggressive behavior keep him from getting Riley back in his life. Liam consoled himself with the fact that all he had to do was wait for her memory to come back. After that, things would get easier.

He opens up Riley’s hospital room door to find Gabriel snuggled under Riley’s arm on the side of her bed, the doctor writing something on a clipboard, and another woman in a chair next to Eleanor.

They all turn to stare at him. “Hey, Liam,” Riley says, but there’s no emotion in it. There’s no hint of resentment or love or anything in between. He’s a stranger to her.

The doctor motions Liam out of the room, the shopping bags still in his hand.

“Your Majesty,” the doctor says. “We’ve good news. Since the kids have been bringing in some photographs for the past few days, Riley’s gotten some of her memory back.”

Liam takes in a sharp breath. “Does she…?”

“No, she doesn’t remember you or any of your friends. In fact, there’s still a significant part of her life that she can’t recall. Like the trip to Europe you all mentioned, her wedding, her son’s birth, though she does remember the early stages of her daughter’s life and each of her children's birthdates.”

“That’s good to hear.” Tears and disappointment well at the edges of Liam’s eyes, but he easily keeps them in as though it’s second nature.

“We understand that it isn’t much,” the doctor continues, “but she’s making wonderful progress. She knows enough about her daily life for her to be able to function properly around other people and in society. But there will be certain skills that she’ll have to relearn. Like how to cook some recipes she may have memorized, how to play sports, dancing, and some hobbies.”

“Understandable,” Liam states. He sees Drake from the corner of his eye, who comes to stand next to Liam.

“We plan on discharging her later today, there’s just some more paperwork to be filled out. She’s going to need crutches and a wheelchair due to her leg injury, though we suspect that it’ll fully heal within the next three weeks, but only if she mostly stays off of it. We’re still going to have her come in for weekly check-ups though. ”

“Of course. I will do everything in my power to make sure she sees a full recovery.”

The doctor smiles. “Oh, and… just to let you know, when you and your friends try to re-teach her everything or try to jog her memory, stressing her out has the tendency to reverse the whole process.”

“Is that a permanent side effect?” Drake butts in. “If you stress her out she starts forgetting things?”

“No, it’ll likely go away once she fully recovers, but it never hurts to be extra careful.”

Liam thanks the doctor and then turns back to Riley’s door. They step back inside, where Gabriel and Eleanor are laughing at something the mysterious woman said.

Everyone stops laughing and notices the two men standing at the door. The woman stands and extends her hand out to Liam.

“Oh, hi! You must be Drake? Or Liam? No… Maxwell?”

Drake unsuccessfully stifles a chuckle.

“I am Liam, yes.” He shakes the woman’s hand, who goes red. “This is Drake.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I’m Rowan, Gabriel and Eleanor’s Godmother!”

“Nice to meet you.” Drake holds out his hand.

The room falls quiet and everyone looks between one another.

“Um…,” Rowan begins. “I’m going to go check in with the doctor about the paperwork and everything… so I’ll be back later.” She ruffles Eleanor’s hair on her way out.

“And I’ll go call Maxwell,” Drake declares. “Figure out where the Beaumonts are.”

Once the two of them are gone, Riley, Gabriel, and Eleanor stare at Liam. He’s been holding in his words and feelings for so long that Liam can barely contain it any longer. There’s so many things he wants to tell each of them, but he doesn’t want to stress Riley nor does he want to overwhelm the children.

Eleanor points at the large bag Liam still holds. “What’s in there?” she asks.

“I have gifts for you two.” Liam reaches into the bag, and pulls out two gift-wrapped Lego sets. Gabriel and Eleanor don’t move out of their seats, so he leans over the foot of Riley’s bed to hand it to them.

“Thank you,” they say.

“I also have candy for you both.” At that, their heads perk up. He goes into the bag and pulls out a smaller bag. I hope what Drake said about gummy candy was true, he thinks.

Liam takes out sour gummy worms and regular gummy bears.

“Which one do you like, Ella?” Liam hopes that he isn’t overstepping by using her nickname, but he didn’t want the girl to think that he was favoring Gabriel over her.

She shakes her head slightly, but in a small voice says, “I don’t like sour candy.”

“Gabe does,” Riley states, and the children smile at their mother’s words. Liam’s own heart swells as well; it was getting easier for Gabriel and Eleanor. He didn’t want them experiencing heartache over their mother. That was something Liam would not wish on any child, especially not ones he’s begun considering his own.

Liam hands each of them a pouch and they go about eating their snacks, their new toys momentarily forgotten.

Riley’s arm is still over Gabriel. She looks up at Liam, and they stare at each other awkwardly. He has a difficult time holding in the words that he’s so desperate to tell her — he wanted to do it away from the children, or at least not until he got a chance to talk to them separately.

He takes a deep breath, about to say something to her, but then they break eye contact when Gabriel starts coughing. Riley rubs a hand along his back, and Liam leans in to make sure he’s not choking.

Once he stops, Riley takes the bag of candy from him. “Maybe stay away from the sour candy for a bit?”

Gabriel nods, and Eleanor stands to pour some of her candy into her brother’s hands. Riley fusses over Gabriel for a few more moments, pushing a lock of hair off of his forehead and wiping some tears from his cheek.

“The doctor told me that your health has improved?” Liam breaks the silence.

She turns back towards him. “Yeah, thankfully. I feel a little bit like myself again. I mean… for the most part at least. When I think back on my life before I had Ella, it feels so… empty and blurry. Like I’m trying to look at some abstract painting in heavy fog, but I don’t know that it’s abstract, or if it’s even a painting.”

“Understandable,” he states. “It’s a difficult process.”

“Unfortunately it is.” She sighs. “I feel like there’s so much that I need to get back so I can solve all these problems. Like with you and your friends. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful that you all came to check in on me, and I’m sorry that I don’t remember your roles in my life. My mother told me about everything with Gabriel and you…. I just want to say that I’m so sorry—.”

Liam holds up a hand, stopping her. “Please, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Though there is a large part of him that feels betrayed by Riley for everything that she’s done and kept from him, he won’t allow her to feel guilty. After all, it was I who put her in this situation. I could have stopped it. I could have given her a better life. One that we could share. I should have done the right thing in the beginning.

She smiles at him, and then Charlotte Brooks comes into the room, followed by the doctor.

“We’re ready to bring you home!” Charlotte says. Once she sees Liam, her face sours, but the woman brings her attention back to her grandchildren. They’re told to get their things and wait outside while the doctor examines their Mama, and Charlotte sends Liam a look that gets him following after the children.

Rowan is on the other side of the door. She collects Gabriel and Eleanor in her arms, and shoots Liam a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t be intimidated by Riley’s mom. She’s been overprotective of Gabey and Ellie ever since everything that’s happened to Riley.”

Liam gives her a tight smile, and her shoulders tense.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to blame you or anything! Just that… you know, she was… internationally shamed… ended up pregnant and alone after what she thought was supposed to be the best decision of her life.”

“I understand your meaning. I’m not exactly proud of how I allowed our relationship to continue. I should have given her what she deserved from the start.”

“I’m sure Riley would appreciate you saying that.”

Wanting to change the subject, Liam asks, “How long have you known Riley?”

“Oh! Her, Theo, and I all met in high school. Theo went to college in Cali, which is where he met their Godfather.” She squeezes Gabriel and Eleanor, who are still in her arms.

“Where is he now?”

“He’s in Italy at the moment. He and Theo ran the company together. He focused more on international outreach while Theo was the CEO.”

“We were supposed to go visit him last week,” Gabriel adds.

“I see.” Liam and the children regard one another, and before he can say anything else, Maxwell comes rushing over with Drake and the Beaumonts trailing behind.

“Hello there, baby blossoms!” he calls to them. They smile at their new nicknames. Liam feels a small fire in his heart. How is Maxwell able to get them to like him so quickly? What am I doing wrong?

Savannah and Drake walk up to their little group, with Bartie trailing behind. They notice Rowan first, and her and Savannah are introduced. “Hey, you two!” Savannah turns towards the children. “How’re you guys holding up?”

“Good,” Gabriel mumbles.

“Don’t know if you guys have met Bartie yet.” She pats her sons head. “You guys are all about the same age, right?”

“Nice to meet you.” Bartie holds out hand towards Eleanor, who stares at it for a moment before reluctantly shaking it. He repeats the process with Gabriel.

Bertrand walks up to the group, excusing himself for his tardiness, claiming he was on an important phone call. Him and Rowan are introduced. Before anyone can say anything more, the doctor opens up Riley’s door.

“We’re going to get her the wheelchair and crutches, then she’ll be free to go,” the doctor informs. She looks between Charlotte and Liam to add, “if there are any problems or concerns, please don’t hesitate to call.”

They nod and give their thanks, and Charlotte turns to the group. “I’m going to go call the driver. Make sure he’ll be down there when it’s time to leave.”

“Please, ma’am,” Liam says. “My car and driver are downstairs. We’d be happy to bring her back to her home.”

“Yes,” Bertrand continues. “We don’t mean to intrude, but we simply wish to make sure that Lady Riley returns home safely and that there are no further complications to her health.”

Mrs. Brooks opens her mouth to refuse the offer, but Rowan speaks up and says, “That’d be great. I’m sure Riley and the kids will like the company.”

Charlotte gives Rowan a brief look but says nothing.

A few hours later, Rowan declares that she will be bringing the children to get something to eat and then will take them back home. She offers to bring Bartie with, but he nervously shakes his head. Once Maxwell suggests that they both go, Bartie agrees.

Liam contemplated going along as well; he was desperately trying to find a way to talk to the children. He could see the anxiety pool in their eyes whenever he came near. Liam wanted to assure them that he would not harm them, and that he cared about their well-being.

But he decided to stay with Riley, silently hoping that the more time they spent near each other the chances of her remembering him would increase.

A few hours later, Riley is wheeled out of her room. Liam insists on pushing her chair. Charlotte carries her daughter’s things in a bag, while Drake walks slightly ahead of them with the crutches, opening doors and pushing buttons.

Once they reach the car, Riley attempts to stand. Her mother holds out a hand to her, but Liam protests.

“Please, let me,” he says. He puts one arm under Riley’s knees and wraps his other arm around her back, gently picking her up and placing her in the car. He’s almost shocked of how light she feels, but relishes being this close to her again. Riley blushes and thanks him, but she doesn’t meet his eyes.

The drive towards the penthouse is quiet. Liam, Riley, and Charlotte avoid looking at each other, while Bertrand, Savannah, and Drake looked between them expectantly.

Outside Riley’s building, Liam helps her back onto her wheelchair.

“I better learn how to use those crutches,” Riley says as Liam wheels her into the lobby. “Don’t want you breaking your back having to carry me everywhere.” She gives a nervous chuckle.

“Don’t worry about it,” Liam tells her. “It’s nothing. Really.”

She shoots him a grateful smile.

No one talks during the ride up the elevator either. Once they reach the floor, Charlotte gets out first and leads the way down the hall.

Once they enter the penthouse, Liam wheels Riley towards the couches. He gives a quick glance around the lavishly decorated room, noticing pictures of when Gabriel and Eleanor were babes and toddlers. There were some of Riley, giving a wide smile to the person on the other side of the camera. There were some with Gabriel and Eleanor with a man Liam assumed to be Theodore. His heart clenched again. If he had done the right thing all those years ago, that could’ve been him in those pictures with them.

Liam turns back to Riley, picking her up and placing her on the couch. Him and Drake look around for pillows to give her. She blushes again and thanks them.

Rowan, Maxwell, and the kids appear from another room. While Gabriel and Eleanor go to greet their mother, Rowan announces that she brought dinner for everyone, which is in the kitchen.

Everyone eats in the dining room except for Riley, her mother, and Rowan who sit together and talk quietly.

When everyone’s finished eating, the Beaumonts bid their farewells and leave, Drake following them hesitantly, looking back at Riley all the while.

Charlotte pulls Liam to the side, out of earshot from Riley and the kids.

“Liam, I understand that you’re worried about Riley’s well-being,” Charlotte beings through slightly clenched teeth. “But understand that this is my daughter we’re talking about. You’ve wronged her and her children once before, and I’m not going to let that happen again… but I won’t stop you from being a father to Gabriel.”

Liam nods. “Of course. I regret any harm I’ve brought Riley, and will make it my duty to make sure that neither her or the children are ever wronged in such a way again.”

She scans his face for a moment. “Alright, then. I don’t have anything to lend you for the night. It would be better if you came back in the morning.”

Liam gives her his thanks. He offers to help Riley into her room, but the women say that they’ll manage. As much as he wishes he could stay, he says his goodbyes and leaves.

And though physically he’s back in his hotel room, with Drake on the other side of the wall, he feels a string connecting his heart to Riley, Gabriel, and Eleanor: where he feels like he’s meant to be. Liam falls asleep that night with a heavy sense of emptiness in his chest.

…

Around 7 o’clock the next morning, Liam is awake and ready to leave. He contemplates waking Drake and bringing him along, but decides to let him rest and text him his whereabouts later.  

When he knocks on the door to their home and no one opens, Liam is worried that he may have arrived too early. Finally, Rowan opens it. “Hey, there! Come on in.” She steps to the side and allows him to enter. “Riley isn’t awake yet, but I think this is around the time the kids usually get up.” She watches him as he looks around the living room, his eyes resting on different pictures of Riley and Gabriel. “Also could we... talk for a moment?”

He turns his head, concerned. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, no, it’s nothing like that,” she says. “I just wanted to let you know that… Gabe and Ellie are a little… I don’t know… shy… around you? I guess you could say? And I just… feel really bad for them you know? Like, Riley was their rock… I mean she was an amazing mom. Like sometimes I wish she was my mom. This one time when they all went to Central Park, Gabe fell and had to get a lot of stitches on his forehead, and it was not good looking. Like… he had that monstrosity on his head for a month. Anyway, some kids at school teased him about it. It was borderline bullying. Theo was the one who ended up complaining to the teacher, but man… when Riley found out, I kid you not she was about to beat up a couple six-year-olds. We calmed her down and she ended up talking to Gabe about it, but he experienced such a confidence boost after that. Like… he ended up standing up for himself and all that. We were so proud of him.”

Liam smiles at her words, a vague familiarity in it. “Heh. Riley has a tendency to inspire the people around her.”

“She really does.” Rowans twiddles her thumbs for a few seconds, then starts again. “Anyway… what I wanted to tell you was that I think it would be best if you talked to them. In private. About… you being Gabe’s dad and what that means since Theo’s outta the picture and Riley’s not doing so good.”

He nods. “I’ve meant to, but I don’t want to be too direct with them. And I don’t want to upset Mrs. Brooks either.”

“Oh! I know!” she exclaims. “Why don’t you take them out to breakfast? Like, right now? Riley’s mom isn’t up yet, so she can’t stop you… and if she wakes up I’ll do my best to keep her from getting mad.”

“Yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea. As long as the children are alright with it?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be fine. Pretty sure they need some answers badly. I’ll go get them ready!” She runs off.

Liam walks around the living room while he waits, staring at snapshots of Riley’s life with Theodore. He wondered if her smiles and her joy were genuine. He wondered if after the pictures had been taken, or even before, did she think of him? Did she wonder how he was doing? Did she check Cordonian news just to see him, the same way that he would pull up old articles of her during the social season just so he wouldn’t forget what she looked like? Did she ever look back on that photo of them together on top of the Eiffel Tower, or had she deleted it?

He finds himself following framed pictures into a small hallway. There are many doors, some opened, some closed. He knows this isn’t where the bedrooms are, since Rowan had ran off in the other direction. The door closest to him is open, so he pokes his head in.

It’s a study. The desk is on the far side of the room, facing Liam. There’s an open laptop, a neat pile of papers, and a few more framed photographs. Behind the desk is a large window overlooking the city. Liam steps into the room, walking towards the window. He takes a moment to regard the city, looking down at the fast paced people. Turning back towards the desk, he sees pictures of only Gabriel and Eleanor. A flash of envy and hatred runs through Liam’s viens. Who did Theodore think he was, acting as a father to Liam’s son? And then fathering another child with the woman that Liam loved, and then not keeping a picture of her on his desk? He looks up from the table, and his breath catches. Oh.

A large portrait of Riley graced the other wall. Whoever sat in the desk would see the portrait at all times of the day. In the painting, Riley wore a wedding dress. He imagined seeing her walking down the aisle in it, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. She carried a bouquet of what could either be peonies or roses. Behind her was a beautiful expanse of colorful trees that accentuated the beauty of her dress. They had an autumn wedding.

He walks towards the portrait, eager to be closer to the mere essense of her, when he hears voices from the direction of the living room. Liam walks out, plastering a smile over his face.

“Ready to go?” he says to them. They nod their heads, and Liam is glad to see smiles on their faces.

In the elevator, he wonders if he should attempt small talk on them, but Gabriel speaks up and asks, “Where are we going?”

Dumbfounded, Liam says, “Oh. I didn’t think about that. Where do you usually go to get breakfast?” Liam wishes he had asked Drake the name of the restaurant he had got the bagels from.

“The kitchen,” Eleanor states plainly, her smile gone.

Gabriel chuckles. “When Mom doesn’t cook, we got Dunkin Donuts sometimes.”

“Is that nearby?” Liam asks.

“Uh… I know there’s a lot of them close to us, but I don’t really know where they are.”

“Oh!” Eleanor exclaims, suddenly enthusiastic. “Can we go to the Petty Cookie Dean?”

“Of… course…?” Liam thinks he misheard her.

“She means Le Pain Quotidien,” Gabriel explains. “It’s Mom’s and Aunt Rowan’s favorite place.”

“Oh, is it French?” Liam asks, glad to have finally started a conversation.

“Um….” Gabriel shrugs. “I don’t think so, but they have croissants.”

“Chocolate ones, too!” Eleanor speaks up.

“I can’t wait,” Liam exclaims.

“Can we take the subway?!” Eleanor asks, looking up at him. He notices how much her features look like Riley’s: everything from the tilt of her chin to the small hairs on the top of her forehead. Her dark green eyes were the only contrasting thing between them.

“Actually, I have a driver and a car waiting downstairs,” he tells them.

Eleanor pouts and looks away from him. Liam suddenly feels like he’s failed them. He didn’t want to go in the subway because he was afraid that he would get lost, and would therefore lose the children as well.

“If you two know how to get there,” he speaks up, not wanting to disappoint them, “then we can use the subway.”

“Okay!” Eleanor exclaims in an adorably high pitched voice that reminds Liam of a small squeaky toy. The elevator doors open, and she leads them out of the building. They pass by Bastien, who is holding the car door open. Liam shakes his head when they walk by, and Bastien respectfully nods.

She leads them down a flight of stairs in the middle of the street. There are large crowds of people coming in and out, and Liam puts a hand on each of their shoulders. They walk down until they reach a row of turnstiles.

“You have to swipe your MetroCard through that thing,” Gabriel directs.

“Where do I get a... MetroCard?” Liam asks, looking around to see people pulling cards out of their pockets and walking through the turnstiles.

“It’s okay, I have one.” Gabriel pulls a yellow card out from his pocket. He swipes the card and pushes himself and his sister through, then hands the card back to Liam.

He swipes the card and pushes, but the turnstile doesn’t budge. He swipes again, and when it doesn’t work for the third time, someone from behind Liam swipes their card and slightly nudges him forward. He goes through smoothly and turns to say thank you, but they’ve already walked on.

Gabriel takes the card back from Liam. “Sometimes people do that.” Eleanor walks down another flight of stairs and they follow.

The sound of the train running past deafens Liam’s ears for a moment, and he can’t hear anything else. Gabriel and Eleanor stop walking, so Liam stands beside them.

Many children carrying backpacks pass by with adults trailing behind them. Gabriel and Eleanor wave at them. The other children wave back, and their parents send tight smiles in Liam’s direction. A little girl comes over to quickly hug Eleanor before getting on a train that arrived on the right side of the station.

Liam motions towards it, silently asking if they should get on, but they both shake their heads.

When the train leaves and he can hear himself think again, Liam asks them, “Did you know those children?”

They both nod. “We go to the same school as them.”

“Ah, I see.... Do you both know which train we’re supposed to go on?”

“We have to get on four or five or six and then we get off around eighty sixth street,” Gabriel explains.

“And then we have to walk a little bit,” Eleanor continues.

They turn back towards the train tracks, and an elderly man approaches Liam, who protectively puts a hand on each of the children’s shoulders.

“Excuse me, sir?” the old man says. “Do you know how I could get to the bus terminal?”

Before Liam gets a chance to say he doesn’t know, Eleanor asks him, “Port Authority?”

The old man looks down at her and nods.

They both walk out of Liam’s grasp and lead the man towards a large poster in the middle of the station. 

“Port Authority is over here,” Gabriel directs, pointing towards the edge of the map. “And then we’re over here.” He points towards a space next to Central Park.

“These are the train names!” Eleanor adds, pointing towards small letters next to the colorful lines.

“Thank you, tiny humans,” the old man says, who focuses his attention on further examining the map. 

“When did you two learn how to navigate the subway?” Liam asks them, slightly impressed.

“Ella doesn’t know that much yet, but Dad taught me when I was her age. It’s just memorization, but most of the time you need the map. Dad said that even if we drive everywhere we should still know the basics.” Liam feels Gabriel’s shoulders tense and jump up. “I mean! I mean my not… dad.”

Liam laughs a little and Eleanor does, too. “It’s alright,” Liam tries to reassure him. “You don’t have to worry about what you call him or I. You can refer to me with whatever you feel comfortable with.” He hopes that his words ease Gabriel.

After a few moments, Liam’s phone rings. He takes it out to check that it’s a call from Olivia. “Hello?” he answers.

“Hello, Liam,” she greets. 

“Olivia, is everything alright?” Liam glances at the children, who are staring up at him. 

“There’s something important you need to—.” The train arrives, and he can’t hear her voice through the noise.

When the train stops, Gabriel and Eleanor walk in. Liam follows. “Olivia, could you repeat what you said?”

She doesn’t answer him, and the line goes quiet. He looks down at his phone to make sure she hasn’t hung up on him. 

“Phones don’t work in the subway sometimes,” Eleanor informs him. 

Liam decides to call Olivia later. 

When they reach their stop, the children stand, and Eleanor grabs Liam’s hand, pulling him out of his seat and out the train.

Gabriel and Eleanor expertly lead Liam down loud streets and into a cozy cafe.

They wait in line, and when it comes their turn, Eleanor asks for mini pancakes and orange juice, while Gabriel settles for oatmeal with berries and apple juice. They look over at Liam, waiting for him to give an order. He looks around and asks for a croissant with a cup of coffee.

Liam pays, adding in a tip, and they’re told to take a seat.

Gabriel immediately picks up a conversation. “So... Grandma said that you’re from Europe?” 

“Yes,” Liam answers. “I live in Cordonia.”

“Do you have a business job like Daddy?” Eleanor questions. “Lots of Mama and Daddy’s friends were business people.”

“I have a government position as a job.”

“Does Cordonia have a president?” Eleanor continues. “Do you work for the president?”

Liam chuckles. “No, actually. They have a king.”

“What’s his name?” Gabriel interrogates.

He laughs again, wondering if he should tell them the full truth. In a low voice he says, “I am the king.” For the first time in his life, he hopes that the title will impress them. He wants them to ask more questions so they can each get to know one another.

Instead, they stare at him. Eleanor squints. “You’re lying,” she claims.

“I... I swear I’m not!” Liam claims, taken aback.

“You’re not a king!” she exclaims. “Kings wear fancy outfits and crowns!”

He lowers his voice, hoping that no one heard her and would notice Liam. “I promise you, I’m not lying. I’ll bring you to Cordonia one day and prove it to you.”

At that, their faces fall. Liam almost asks them what’s wrong before the waiter comes and puts their food and drinks in front of them.

The children take a few bites of their food, eyes downcast. Liam wonders what he said wrong.

In a small voice, Eleanor asks, “Are you gonna only bring Gabe back with you?”

Liam takes a moment to consider her words. Are they worried that I might separate them?

“Of course not,” he reassures them. “If your mother agrees… then I would like to bring the three of you back with me. But I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”

“What about Grandma?” Gabriel asks.

“If she wants to come as well, then she can come.” He smiles at them, and the worry leaves their faces. He hopes that he’s addressed all of their concerns, but doesn’t pester them to ask more questions; the happier and less stressed they seem, the more Liam’s joy increases.

For the rest of the meal, Liam lets the children talk about their friends at school and stories from their dance and soccer classes. The smiles on their faces are contagious, and soon Liam is laughing with them. Once it’s time to leave, Liam asks them if they know where they could get cronuts from, so they can bring some back for Riley. When they shake their heads, he grabs three chocolate croissants for Riley, Gabe, and Ella, then allow the children to lead him back to their home.

[haikyuu-sickfics]

Vomit warning

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READ THE WARNING

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Word Count: 1393

Koutarou’s tendency to get in trouble would be Keiji’s downfall.  Everyone on Fukurodani’s volleyball team knew how dependent the team's ace was on the second year setter.  The captain's dependency put a weight of pressure onto Keiji’s shoulders.  Pressure to perform well not only for himself, but for Koutarou, which in turn forced him to perform well for the entire team.  Luckily, Keiji thrived under pressure.  He had his way to deal with any situation, be it Koutarou’s emo mode, Koutarou getting an injury, or his personal least favorite; Koutarou catching an illness.  Fortunately, the last of those 3 instances happened very rarely, and even when it did happen, it was nothing too serious.   

Which is exactly why Keiji felt so panicked right now.

From the morning, Keiji had a sour feeling in his stomach, a feeling which seemed to perfectly resemble the pit he got in his gut every time Koutarou entered his emo mode.  All day, Keiji fretted over what the terrible encounter would be, and when.  Both of these questions were answered as Koutarou crumpled to the floor mid spike.  A low moan emitted from Koutarou’s throat as he wrapped his large arms around his abdomen.  Quickly, Keiji rushed over to Koutarou’s weak form.

“Bokuto-san, can you get up?  We need to get you home,” Keiji deadpanned, wrapping his arms around Koutarou to provide support.

A weak nod was all Koutarou expressed as he slowly made his way to a hunched standing position.  Coach Yamiji walked up, his attention caught by the small group circled around the ace and setter.

“Yamiji-sensei, Bokuto-san is unwell, may I take him home?” Keiji queried upon the new arrival.

“Ah, yea.  Make sure ya get outta ‘ere before he gets everyone else sick.  Stay safe you two,” Turning his head to Koutarou he added, “Get better soon.”  

With a clap, the coach directed the rest of the team's focus to himself, and Keiji continued the rough process of getting Koutarou outside.  After a bit of struggle, which was only worsened as a result of the pain continuing to bite at Keiji’s midsection, the two made it outside, and quite a distance from the school.  

-

“Do you think it worked?” Yamato asked Akinori back in the gym.

“Yea bro, did you see how good of an actor he was?” Haruki butted in, referencing Koutarou’s collapse.

“He was!  I just hope he’s able to get to the festival without getting yelled at,” Akinori added, voicing his concerns of Keiji getting mad at Koutarou for his bold plot to skip out on volleyball.  

The whole team, including the coach, was in on it.  The original plan was for Keiji to finally get a break from supporting the team, and who better to show Keiji a good time then Koutarou.

-

Back at where Koutarou and Keiji were walking, Keiji began to grow suspicious of how well Koutarou was walking without support.

“Bokuto-san, you don’t seem sick.  Were you faking?” Keiji asked, his face morphing into one of disapproval.

“Aka----ashi!” Koutarou exclaimed, walking around to face Keiji, “Of course, and I got everyone in on it!  I’m s’pose to take you on a break!” Koutarou confessed, grabbing Keiji’s wrist.

Despite any trouble being resolved, the awful feeling remained deep in Keiji’s stomach.  For the first time all day, he was able to really focus on the hot bubbling feeling, and able to realize it was something so much more than worry.  Nervous from his new findings, his initial upset over Koutarou’s lie almost dissipated. 

Pulling his wrist out from Koutarou’s grip, Keiji began, “Bokuto-san.  I don’t need a break, we should go back to practice,” he paused a couple times to lift his hand to his mouth and stifle bubbles of air rising up.

Koutarou took notice of Keiji’s awkward behavior, much to the dismay of the latter.  

“Akaashi?” Koutarou whined in concern, “Are you okay?” He did not get an answer.  Everything started happening too fast, Keiji felt his stomach start to ache far stronger than before.  His mouth began to salivate, and he clasped his hand over it in fear of making a mess.  Koutarou’s eyes widened as he lay a large hand across Keiji’s mid back.  

“I’m fine, Bokuto-san,” Keiji affirmed, swallowing down the excess liquid in his mouth.

Worry was still etched in Koutarou’s face, but a flock of birds overhead quickly caught his attention and soon enough, Keiji’s moment of weakness completely escaped his mind.  But for Keiji, the moment was far from gone.  The churning feeling had all but faded, and Keji began to find it difficult to even stand.  Fortunately for him, Koutarou was too caught up in the animals flying overhead to take note of Keiji’s struggle.

“Akaashi! Do you see them!  Do you see the birds!” Koutarou marvelled, eyes wide to the sky.

Keiji’s lack of response caused Koutarou’s attention to return to the second year.  Just as his head whipped around, Keiji’s knees buckled.  Quickly, the team captain threw his arm under his falling friend and helped to gently lower him.  

Saliva dribbled out of Keiji’s slightly ajar mouth as his stomach clenched.  At this point, Keiji didn’t even have the energy to reassure Koutarou of his well being, lie or not.  After a particularly hard clench, Keiji let out a loud retch, and his back arched in a way which forced him to place his hands in front of him in an effort to support the rest of his body.  Koutarou, not knowing what else to do, rubbed large circles on Keiji’s back and pulled out his phone to call for help.

They stayed in that position for a minute or so, Keiji trying his best to hold down whatever was trying so hard to force its way out of him, and Koutarou hovering at his side uncomfortably.  Finally, Keiji gave up, a loud belch echoed out of him, bringing with it a thin wave of vomit.  The grotesque taste it left on the setter’s tongue incited another, larger, wave.  Not much came up, as Keiji didn’t eat too much throughout the day- his stomach pains seemed to cause a lack of appetite.After the second wave, Keiji felt finished.  Pulling his handkerchief out of the pocket of his jacket, he dabbed his lips and chin.

“Let’s go Bokuto-san,” he deadpanned, slowly pulling himself off the ground.  Embarrassment caused heat to hug his cheeks, they weren’t exactly in the most private setting and Keiji could feel bystanders eyes burning into him.

Koutarou, not much knowing what else to do, obliged.  After about 3 minutes of walking, Keiji doubled over once more, letting out a loud retch as he did so.  Koutarou resumed his position at the side of Keiji, rubbing large circles onto the smallers back.  Keiji let out a couple more gags before a productive heave sent a small splash of bile onto the concrete.  At this point, Keiji’s throat was burning and he wanted nothing more than to curl up on his bed and fall asleep.  His legs felt weak and his vision was swimming.  Dizziness yanked at his limbs and swam throughout his core.

Taking a deep breath, Keiji began, “Bokuto-san.  Can you take,” but before he could finish his request, his vision went fully back and his knees buckled.

Panicked, Koutarou scooped his arms under Keji and lifted him up in bridal style.  It was an easy feat, Keiji was light and Koutarou was strong.  Surprisingly, despite the two being so close, Koutarou had no clue where his friend lived, so he began the long walk to his own house.

Keiji only stirred slightly throughout the long walk.  For this, Koutarou was silently thankful, it was safe to assume the former hadn’t been getting much sleep as of late.  It was a but of an inconvenience to Koutarou, his house wasn’t exactly close to Fukurodani, which is why he took the train everyday, but he knew this was a minor inconvenience in comparison to all Keji went through for him.  

Relief washed through Koutarou’s body as his house came into view.  Judging by how Keiji was still out, Koutarou was ready for one long night.  Letting out a sigh filled with many emotions, he fished his key out of his pocket, and unlocked the door, fully unprepared for the long night which awaited him.

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Director’s Cut Chapter 8: The Town

Director’s cut chapter 7

In the third week of Virgil being there, Thomas sought him out in the library. If he had come at any other time it might have been hard to find him. As Logan was focused on the pirate situation, he had abandoned his personal studies and, consequently, Virgil. As a result, Virgil had found a small, out of the way nook and had managed to wedge himself into it in a comfortable position. It was nice to have constant pressure after all. It made him feel like he was underwater again. He just so happened to have finished his book before Thomas came in. Consistent pressure is proven to help with ADHD.

So, instead of finding the mer curled in a corner that would have taken Thomas ages to find as Virgil tuned the world out, he found him half-way up a ladder with a large book in his hands. “Virgil?” Thomas asked, trying not to startle him. Read: Hyperfocused.

Luckily, Virgil’d wrapped a leg around the ladder and had a tight grip with one hand. He looked down and smiled brightly. “Thomas! What can I do for you?”

Thomas waited until both of Virgil’s feet were firmly on the ground again before speaking. “I was heading into town and wondered if you wanted to come with me.”

Virgil nodded. “You were thinking I might remember something or someone might spot me that would recognize me, right?” Because all that mattered was to find his memory and get out of their gills.

Thomas laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “Well, I actually thought it would do you good to get out of the castle grounds and get some exercise in.”

Virgil smiled. “Is anyone else going or will it just be the two of us?”

“Logan’s coming too.”

Virgil nodded. “Just give me a few minutes to get ready and I’ll meet you by the front door.” Thomas nodded and left with a smile. 

Virgil put the book he’d just grabbed down on a desk, putting a note on it to make sure the librarians don’t put it away. He grabbed the discarded beanie from the nook and ran up to his room to grab the slip of paper with the description of the crystal on it. He quickly made his way back downstairs to see that the two brothers were waiting at the door for him.

“Sorry for taking so long.” Virgil said as he approached.

Logan smiled. “It wasn’t that long.” He gave him a once over. “You got everything you need?”

“Yep.” He held up the scrap of paper. “I’ve got everything.”

“What’s that?” Thomas asked as he led the way around to the storage area for the vehicles. From what Virgil managed to learn from Logan, they were taking a car instead of the land kelpie that Logan called a motorcycle.

“It’s a piece of paper I had in my hand when I woke up. I think it might help me remember something.”

Logan smiled, leaning to put a hand on his shoulder. “Thomas only has some errands to run. While he’s doing that, we can look for whatever’s on the paper.”

Virgil was suddenly aware of the pit that was in his stomach lessening, his breathing getting a bit easier. He might be back in the ocean before the third tide came in and that thought made him almost giddy. He had a hard time staying still during the car ride, looking out the window for even a glimpse of the water, of home. He didn’t like the seatbelt he had to put on when he got in but he didn’t mind it all that much if it meant that he got to travel.

Soon enough, they were at the town and they were spilling out of the car. Virgil tried to stick close to Logan at first while Thomas went off to get his things, a guard trailing after each group, but his curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to look at everything that caught his attention so he was wandering from storefront to storefront, just looking in the windows. At one point, he found a store that really held his attention and he had to stop himself from pressing his whole face into the glass. Here we are at the beginning of the physical hyperactivity that will persist until close to the end of the chapter when he’s worn himself out. This is also an instance of the short attention span as he flits from window to window.

The whole store was filled with candy the likes of which Virgil had never seen. There were large bricks of brown candy sitting on slabs of wood, paper in between the bricks. Behind them, Virgil could see cases of candy of all different shapes, sizes, and colors. He was sure that if he simply focused on his reflection, he would have looked like a love struck guppy. 

Behind him, Logan laughed. “I see you found the candy store.”

Virgil turned to him, hands still pressed against the window. “Is that what this is?” His voice was filled with wonder at the new experience.

Logan nodded, his eyes crinkling at the sight of Virgil’s excitement. “Yes, that’s a candy shop.” He shook his head, smile still in place. “I forget you don’t have all your memories sometimes.”

Virgil nodded, finally stepping away from it. “Maybe we can get some candy on our way back. I think we should keep looking for this gem right now.”

Logan nodded, moving to walk beside Virgil rather than trail behind him. Walking along the street, they ducked into every jewelry store they saw, Virgil questioning the store clerks about the description. Every one of them turned up empty. They even tried the rockhound shop they found along the way but that turned out to be a dried riverbed as well. 

Eventually, they came across an art store. Logan got excited and dragged Virgil in to look at all the canvases and the paint selection. Virgil got distracted by the bookmarks at the front desk, putting the paper down to look at them. Some had patterns on them similar to the star shapes he saw in the night sky, others looked like the nebulas that were visible from sea, still others were patterned to look like waves but were iridescent when moved. The ones that truly stood out to him were iridescent ones that looked like scales, reminding him of his own shimmering purple tail. Short attention span is actually useful for once!

He was startled back into reality when the attendant at the front desk picked up the piece of paper he’d set down, glancing over it. “Are you looking for this?” They asked.

Virgil looked up, seeing the paper in their hands. “Yes, I’m looking for a stone that matches that description. Do you happen to know where I can find one?”

“You could try the costume store on the other side of the city. Or there’s the jewelry store in that same area that might do it for you. It depends on how good quality you want out of it.”

Virgil smiled, the excitement building in his chest as he thought about being back home soon. Strangely, a bittersweet sadness mixed with the joy, as he knew he would miss the humans he was staying with. Thinking of which, Logan came back behind him with a few tubes of paint in his hands and a smile on his face. Trouble with self-regulation of emotions.

Virgil laughed, seeing the way he almost dropped the items as he approached. “You got that?”

Logan nodded, dropping the objects on the counter. “Virgil, they’ve got so much stuff here, we’ve gotta come back soon!”

Virgil smiled, his hand reaching out to graze against one of the tail bookmarks. Logan noticed and quietly nudged him as the attendant rang up the paints. “Pick one and I’ll pay for it.”

Virgil looked at him, awe invading his gaze. “Really?”

Logan nodded and Virgil shyly picked up a bookmark that was almost the exact shade of his tail, the scale pattern shimmering as it was moved. Logan smiled and added it to the pile as Virgil slipped his paper back into his pocket. Soon, they were exiting the store. Logan glanced at Virgil. “Does anything seem familiar?” His voice held a tone of hope.

Virgil shrugged, hands in his pockets. “The store clerk said we might be able to find the stone on the other side of the city.” He thought back to the bookmarks. “I recognized some of the constellations on the bookmarks, as well as some of the patterns seemed familiar.”

Logan smiled. “That’s good news, Virgil!” He nudged him with his shoulder, causing the mer to be off balance and stumble to the side. Catching on quickly, Virgil shoved him back. They continued their game for a few more paces before Logan’s pocket dinged.

Pulling out the same box from all those weeks ago, a phone, Logan read over and responded to a text before turning around. “Come on, Thomas is done with his errands and agreed to meet at the candy store you found earlier.”

Virgil frowned. “But what about the store across the city?”

Logan smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, bookworm. We’ll come back in a week and we can go then, is that okay?”

Virgil nodded even as his eyes stung. He knew it couldn’t be helped but it still hurt. “Yeah,” he choked out, “that works.” He tried to hide his disappointment the best he could.

Logan held the door open as they entered. “How about you pick out a candy for yourself and Roman, hmm? I want to talk to Thomas about something real quick but I’ll join you soon.”

Virgil made a noise of understanding and pasted on a fake smile, pushing the thought of the crystal to the back of his mind as he looked through the overwhelming amount of candy in front of him. The smells swirling around the building were almost too much to bear all at once. Even so, he watched Logan walk away before turning to scan the merchandise. He felt vulnerable without the familiar figure of Logan by his side but he knew the bodyguard that followed him would keep him safe. Soon, that fake smile became real as he lost himself in the sweets. 

It took him longer than he thought it would, Thomas and Logan having already picked out their treats. They’d even stayed in a group so the bodyguards could pick out treats as well but Virgil still wasn’t done. When he finally was, he settled on a mix of sour and sweet shark shaped gummies for Roman and a stick of rock candy for himself. It reminded him of the coral that populated the area around his home, the bright blue being a nice contrast to everything around them. ADHDers have a harder time making quick decisions.

As they were exiting, Virgil wanted nothing more than to close his eyes, to protect them from the too bright lights, and lay his head on Logan’s shoulder in the hopes of sleeping, even for a few minutes. He knew that when they got back to the castle, he’d disappear into his little alcove that no one but he knew of, and just sit by himself for a while. It had been a good trip, but it had also been an exhausting trip. Slight sensory overload combined with crashing from the physical hyperactivity. I get very tired after having physical hyperactivity as the hyperactivity usually presents itself as talking quickly or mental hyperactivity.

✴ ✴ ✴

He watched as they exited the building, Logan laughing at something Thomas said and the other with them strangely subdued from what he’d been watching the rest of the trip. Ducking back, he stayed out of sight as the trio climbed into their car, the tall one in the middle between the royals. Cursing, he slunk away, his left eye starting to glow as he crept into the dark of the alley behind him. He had hoped to get him this time but knew another opportunity would present itself. He just had to be patient. Patience was a virtue he’d learned a long time ago. He could wait as long as it took. One day, he would have him in his grasp.

Director’s cut chapter 9

[that-gt-and-vore-stuffs]

Sweet, Sweet- er, Sour Revenge

Ask and ye shall receive! [Looking at you @pockette-sized ;)]Another of the odd names on Davey’s list shall be explained! Buckle up! (This gets shippy)

Vore under the cut

He won’t forget that first day with Jack. Not after all that happened in the short time. The Delanceys, Weisel and most memorable, Snyder. He can remember suddenly being told to book it and ending up in Medda’s theater after running from said man. He can remember the way Jack looked him dead in the eye before leading him and Les as far away as they could.

Another thing about Snyder he remembers is after the strike.

He wasn’t sure what exactly Jack and the other boys did but he did know that it ended in him knowing the answer to a question he wasn’t that keen on knowing at first.

————

The strike was settled, Jack was staying in New York, and things didn’t seem like they could get better. That night they all had met at Jacobi’s to grab a bite and talk and celebrate and boy was he glad for it. Co-Running a strike was tiring. Not to mention time consuming. Had he gotten to eat? Not that he remembered. Meaning he was more then glad to get something at their celebration.

Or so he thought.

The boys wouldn’t leave his food alone. They didn’t steal it, no. But what they did do is keep it out of his reach.

“Jackie!!” He whined, reaching towards the leader of Manhattan as the boy pulled his plate out of reach. This earned laughs from the rest of the group gathered at the table, furthering his embarrassment. “Come on! Just give me my food back!”

“I thought you would’ve learned Jack don’t listen by this point.” He hears someone, Elmer, joke.

Race is quick to shoot a comment back. “Oh please. He listens t’one person and one person only, wise ass. His Daveyyy~!”

Davey, in turn, goes red. The teen pulls his cap down over his face as he rests his chin on the table. He can feel his stomach growling, glad that no one can hear it over the sounds of celebration. At this point he might as well just shrink and swallow Jack, but...no. He can’t do that. Not now. Not here.

“Jack, come on. Let the poor boy.....” Katherine, about to stand up for Davey, is silenced by a single wink from Jack. Mouthing a little ‘oh’ she quotes down again, listening in on the conversation of the others.

“Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Davey finds himself huffing at the other boy, once again gaining the attention of the others though their conversation doesn’t stop.

“Nothin’ Dave. Nothin’ at all.” Jack’s smirk is not sitting well with Davey as he reaches again for his plate, only to get it taken away.

“God Fucking Damnit! Stop being a dick, Jack!”

“Woah-ho! Language David!”

“Oh don’t even go there, Kelly.”

The rest of the night there is filled with playful banter, plenty of teasing, and sadly no food. Not for David at least. They had wrapped up the hotdog and told him “later.”

As he started the walk home, alone and stomach growling at him, he started to wonder when later was.

That’s when he was dragged into the theater.

————

Did he like being yanked into the theater by unknown forces? No. Did he like being tied down by said forces? No. Did he like that he was still left hungry during all of this? Not a chance.

The teen struggled against his bindings the best he could. Hand, feet, and legs. Damn ropes were tied good too. He sighed, slumping over the most he could in the chair. Then a light turned on. As it flickered to life above him Davey squinted, both trying to adjust his eyes better and to see who trapped him here.

“Jesus, Dave. You really wanna fight me?” Came a smooth, cocky voice that the young Pred knew all too well. Jack Kelly. “I thought we’s was friends.”

“Why in the world am I tied down, Jack?” Davey asks with a relived sigh. At least it wasn’t some creep. He tried to squirm against his bindings again, only to find it still did nothing.

Jack can’t help but laugh. Davey was adorable when he was mad. He couldn’t deny that one. Walking more into the light, the boy slowly stalked forward. “I want t’help you, dork.”

Davey’s eyes locked in Jack’s form the moment he could see him. That look....he knew it. In this situation? It wasn’t a good thing to see. He couldn’t help but try and lean back in the chair. “What do you mean help me? How can you do that after the stunt you pulled in Jacobi’s?”

A small laugh bubbles from Jack’s throat. “That’s exactly what, dear David. Don’t think I’m not aware that you’s....runnin’ on empty.” Smirking, the painter presses a hand into the taller teen’s stomach for emphasis. He can’t help but snort when he feels and hears a growl from under his hand.

Davey tenses temporarily, melting before he can stop it from the soft pressure. Once again red, he tries to stutter out his thoughts. “Wha....what in the world? Are you finally going to let me eat?”

“.....you could say that.”

“Jack, what do you mean by that?” Davey asks, clearly wary if his tone said anything. He squirmed lightly as Jack pressed harder before removing his hand.

“Well, I’s am gonna let ya eat. So you can calm ya nerves on that one.”

“Then what in the world does the “you could say that” mean, Jack Kelly?”

Jack looks away for a moment before turning back and booping Davey on the nose. “I’ll be right back.” Without further explanation he walks off to a corner of the backstage area.

Davey frowns. What in the heck was Jack getting? What was this going to lead to? Knowing Jack...nothing good.

Sometimes, he really hates when he’s right.

Like now for instance. When he watched Jack Kelly walk out of the darkness with a gagged tiny in his fist. A tiny he could place the name Snyder to. As if this wasn’t bad enough already, the drool puddling on his tongue thanks to the sight of the tiny only served to tell him his instincts were back at it again. Oh boy. “I-I-“

“Now Dave, before you say anything, I know what you’re thinking. How and why the hell does Jack have a shrunken Snyder in his hands.” Jack makes sure to gesture with his hands to make this worse for the tiny. As if it wasn’t bad enough. “See, me and the boys, we’s managed t’convince some people t’let us handle him for a night. They’s was gonna have me be the one t’do this but I’ve had my fun against him and I recall you not havin’ eaten anything in like, a day and a half. So here we are.”

Davey blinked. He....Jack wanted him to....oh boy. The teen gulped, looking to the squirming tiny again. How was he supposed to respond to that?

“Well? Ya doin’ it or not?”

Davey’s gaze never moved from the tiny. His tongue slowly peaked out and snaked around his lips. If that wasn’t enough of an answer for the painter then the growl from the curly haired boy’s stomach sure was.

Jack smiled, walking back to Davey’s side. Watching Davey track the man his his hand was oddly satisfying. Maybe it was the way he felt Snyder shaking. He booped the Pred, smiling down at him. “Davey? Could you open your mouth for me?”

Davey didn’t have to be told twice. Hunger was starting to blind him as he felt his chin tilted back. He opened his mouth wide, as instructed, closed his eyes and waited.

Seeing Davey so obedient was so weird. Usually the boy used his mind. Never really did he act like a mindless puppet or a obedient puppy. /Heh...cute/ Shifting his grip, he dangled Snyder over his friend’s maw. “You want a treat, Davey? Wanna help me out and keep him captive in your empty belly?”

Ok. Maybe he was having a bit too much fun with this.

It wasn’t like Davey could argue with him. Poor boy was mindless. He just waited with a open mouth, leaning forward a bit to try and coax the tiny into his mouth.

This was perfect. Jack had never seen the scared side of Snyder and boy was he going to savor it. Smirking at the small man who caused him and many others harm he merely waved before dropping him to his friend.

The hunger blinded Pred was quick to take to the tiny in his mouth. Jaws snapping shut around him, tongue pushing him around for a while.

When it came to situations like this, Jack was often the one most ok with it. Now was no exception. Smiling and getting to work undoing he bindings he gently pressed the pred’s belly. “You can swallow whenever, Dave. Just keep him down.”

It’s not a surprise to him when Davey swallows near instantly after he finishes talking. Looking up he can see the last of the small bulge disappearing past his friend’s collar bone. With a smile he presses against Davey’s belly, waiting for the first sign of Snyder entering his sleeping place for the night.

When it came he heard a small groan from above, finishing on the last binding already. “Oh? Someone back t’themselves?”

Davey groaned quietly, trying to comprehend the feeling along with the oddly sour taste in his mouth. He tilted his head, confused until a shiver hit him like a door. Oh. That kind of Back to himself. Not thinking, he brings a hand down to his belly only to find Jack’s there. “J-Jack-“

“Nuh-Uh. You’re letting me handle this.”

Davey cant even get out a small noise before he feels Jack’s somehow both rough and soft hands press into his gut. They start to move in circles as his captive fights off the sudden rubs, sending him into full submissive mode.

He’s gone limp and can’t move if he tried.

Jack knows it. He had to be the first one to have learned about Davey’s weakness for belly rubs and boy did he use it to his advantages. Now was no acception. Completely ignoring the muffled protests from the man inside his friend’s gut, he continues the little massage.

It’s no surprise when he starts to hear soft snoring.

Davey doesn’t remember much after that. What he does know is that he woke up in the best position ever. He had to assume he passed out and Jack carried him to the lodging house after, thanks to waking up curled up, still pleasantly full. Was he complaining? No. Was he going to Spit Snyder up now? No. Did he owe Jack? Big time.

But how does someone repay their friend for belly rubs and cuddles?

[bunnyhanasong]

Broken

Chapter 2 of “Foolish Girl”

Main ship: widowtracer (though Amé isn’t in this one)

Side ships: pharmercy, implied mekamechanic, mentions of Dvamon, platonic mekatracer/HanaxLena

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, some family fluff uwu

Notes: some swearing, medical talk, Angela is a helicopter mum, Lena is still a dumb lesbian, Hana and Lena are soft sisters, Angie and Fareeha are Best Mums

Cross posted to my Ao3 lesbianlenaoxton

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“LENA OXTON, WHAT THE FUCK.”

“Hana,” A soft voice murmured from across the room, “Volume down please, people are trying to heal.”

“Yeah yeah, sorry, eomma,” Hana waved a hand at Mercy, letting the door close behind her. She crossed the room to the hospital bed, glaring at the tiny woman slumped against the pillows.

“Lena, what the fuck,” Hana repeated at a much lower volume, “What were you thinking?”

“Hana, please don’t pester her,” Fareeha spoke from her seat on the couch, “Angela already reprimanded her enough.”

The blonde tucked protectively under Fareeha’s arm smacked her shoulder lightly in reproach, “She deserved it.”

“She got shot, Habibti,” her girlfriend reminded her gently, “She’s been punished enough for now.”

Lena grumbled something from under her scratchy hospital issued blanket, making everyone turn to her. Her skin was still a sickly pallor, though she did look a bit more alert despite the amount of morphine she was on. Her unruly hair was still that, fluffed up against her pillow.

“I didn’t intend on getting shot, Love,” Tracer rasped lowly, dark eyes apologetic as she looked at her best friend.

“But you did,” Hana concluded, “All because of Widowmaker.”

“No...” Lena frowned, “She saved me. Reyes would have killed me if she’d not been there.”

Hana looked back at Mercy for help but Angela just shook her head, “She has a point... We all heard her over the comm.”

“She... she’s not as bad as you want to believe,” Lena murmured in a way that sounded almost meek, “It seemed like she broke through her programming... at one point she sounded just like Amé.”

Angela hummed and shifted against Fareeha to look at Lena, “She did sound a bit more emotional than in the past. Not to mention her not killing you and also contacting us. That was very odd.”

“She’s still in there, Angie,” Lena’s voice cracked a little as she willed Angela to understand, “She’s not dead.”

Hana saw tears welling in Lena’s eyes and frowned, reaching over to take her hand. Lena gave her a weak smile and slumped back against her pillows when Angela didn’t respond. Hana sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing her friend’s hair out of her eyes before speaking.

“So, aside from the obvious, how are you feeling, Lee?”

Lena shrugged, leaning a bit into Hana’s touch, “Like I got shot.”

Hana rolled her eyes, “No duh, pabo,” stupid, Lena knew what that one meant.

“I don’t know,” Lena lifted her hand to show the IV taped in place, “Good drugs. Can’t move though, then it hurts.”

“What’s the actual diagnosis, Doc?” Hana asked Angela, who’d gotten up from her place in Fareeha’s arms and was over at the counter looking at files.

“Bullet wound to the upper thigh, just missed the femoral artery. No exit wound but unless the bullet begins to cause issues there is no logical reason to remove it.” She looked at Lena pointedly, “You’re lucky, Reaper usually isn’t that kind. In any other instance he would have aimed for your head.”

“Amé... I mean Widowmaker was too close,” Lena replied, “He knew she would have fought him.”

“Acting out to protect the enemy like that is not logical on her part,” Fareeha began, “Especially if she’s breaking through her programming; God knows what Talon might do to her.”

“Angie... is there any way to get her out?”

Mercy’s blue eyes were stern as she spoke again, “Lena, we cannot risk our lives to save her. She’s still a brainwashed assassin, and a very good one at that. We do not need another Gérard situation.”

“But-”

Angela held up a hand, “Süsse, please do not push it. Unless she comes to us willingly and asks for me to reverse their brainwashing, I will not interfere.”

Lena gave Angela a sour face at the pet name, not in the mood to be babied. She sighed and nodded in digression, knowing better than to push the older woman any further.

“Eomma?”

Angela couldn’t help but smile when Hana called her mom, “Yes, Hana?”

“When can Lena come back to the safe house?” They had a safe house in every major city, since Overwatch activity was technically illegal; it was better to stay hidden. Their Paris safe house wasn’t very big, but in an instance like this it wasn’t possible for them to leave for a still operating watchpoint just yet.

“If she doesn’t develop a fever or infection she can go home in the next couple days. No walking though. Wheelchair for the time being and then crutches when you get your strength back, Lena.”

Lena groaned, “You’ve got to be kidding,” she pouted at Mercy, “How long?”

“You will probably be walking in 4-6 weeks. We will need to do physiotherapy to avoid muscle damage and I want to keep a close eye on your progress. No missions or running for a while, I’m afraid.”

“Angie! That’s so long.”

The doctor shrugged, “Maybe you’ll think next time before you go running into danger without backup.”

“Angela,” Fareeha said gently, “Be nice.”

“She deserves to know how utterly stupid that was.”

“And I’m sure she does, darling,” Fareeha has stood and cross the room to her girlfriend, “But you’re not helping.”

Angela just glared up at the taller woman for a moment before sighing. She walked over to Lena, checking her vitals on the monitor and adjusting the morphine drip. When she was finished she glanced down at the younger girl, who was staring at her with apologetic puppy eyes.

“I’m sorry, Lena,” Angela leaned down to drop a kiss to her head, “I will try to speed up your healing as best I can. We can talk about this later, but I’m not angry. You just scared me, I don’t want to lose you.”

Lena smiled in spite of herself at the affection and her honesty, “I’m sorry too, mum. I’ll try to be careful in the future.”

“Please do, for the sake of my poor old heart.”

Hana rolled her eyes, “You’re not old, Angie.”

“Feels like it,” Angela stood up straight and flinched when her back implant pinched at her skin. She went back over to Fareeha, who immediately placed a gentle hand on her back as she sensed her discomfort.

“Why don’t you go rest, Angela? I can take you home and then come back and watch the pup, she will be fine.”

“What is it with all of you and calling me a puppy?” Lena grumbled, a pout on her face as she listened to her teammates.

“I should stay...”

“Habibti, you need sleep. Please, I’ll stay with Lena until she sleeps and then I will come back home, yes? I’ll bring Hana home with me.”

Angela sighed and rubbed her tired eyes, “Alright.”

Fareeha smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple, letting Angela collect her papers and bag before leading her out into the hallway. The younger girls watched them go, Hana sighing when the door shut completely.

“Angie’s been a mess since you got shot,” she explained seriously, “You were out for two days, I’m sure you’re aware.”

Lena nodded, frowning, “Has she slept at all?”

“Not really,” Hana replied, “Fareeha’s coaxed her to take naps on the couch but this is the first time she’ll be going home since. She’s been living at the hospital with you.”

Lena sighed, feeling bad for the stress she’d clearly caused Angela. She rubbed her hand over her face, feeling her own eyes droop with sleep as the morphine hit her again; Mercy must have increased her dosage.

“Sleepy?” Hana’s voice was slightly teasing as she patted Lena’s arm gently.

“Mhm,” Lena nodded, “Meds are strong.”

“Lucky you,” the younger girl laughed and glanced back at the door, “Want me to leave so you can sleep?”

“Nuh-uh,” the small woman stifled a yawn, “Hana?”

“What’s up, Lee?”

“Cuddle?”

Hana scrunched up her face in mock disgust, “Ew, affection? Gross.” When Lena flashed her signature puppy eyes though, Hana dropped the act, “You’re lucky you’re cute, dummy.”

Hana got off the bed and helped Lena move over carefully, trying not to jostle her leg. She pulled back the blankets and climbed up beside her friend, laying down and covering them both up. Once Hana was situated, Lena smiled at her and snuggled as close as she could; though it was difficult since she was stuck laying on her back.

“Better?”

Lena hummed in agreement, “You’re warm.” She leaned her head against Hana’s shoulder, “Who’s all at the safe house?”

“Angie, Fareeha, Jack, and Mei,” Hana replied, “Then me and Brig. And you, in a few days.”

“Ah, how is Brigitte?” Lena’s voice held a teasing edge to it. There was no secret that Hana and the Swedish mechanic-turned-healer were involved, but the extent of their relationship wasn’t as clear.

Hana turned a shade of pink that would put her original meka to shame, “S-she’s fine. We’re good... great actually.”

Lena giggled at her reaction, “You two official yet?”

Knowing she wouldn’t escape this conversation, Hana sighed, “Not yet. I mean, I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

The Korean girl shrugged, “We’ve been taking things slow. She knows I’m... apprehensive about relationships, and she respects that.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Lena poked at Hana’s reddened cheek, “Brig is a good person.”

The smile that fell on Hana’s lips was genuine and full of adoration, “She’s lovely and I really do love spending time with her... It’s just hard, Y’know? After Yuna...”

Tracer knew all about Dva’s past relationship with her meka teammate Yuna, code name Dmon. It ended when Hana decided to join Overwatch, which took her away from Korea and her friends in the army. Yuna had been supportive but very firm in her view that Hana was leaving a whole life behind and she might not be around when the other girl returned home. It was really hard on Hana and Lena knew that, especially since finding out that Yuna and Kyungsoo had ended up getting engaged recently.

“I know, love. And I’m sure Brigitte is going to be understanding and patient for you. Just don’t keep the girl waiting too long, yeah? She’s quite the catch.”

“Hands off, Oxton,” Hana joked at Lena’s implication.

Lena raised her hands in mock defence, “She’s all yours, Song.”

Hana laughed and knocked her head lightly against Lena’s, “I miss hanging out with you.”

“I miss you too, love,” the older girl replied sincerely, “Should come visit me back in London when you get the chance. Figure I’ll be on leave for a while once Angie lets me out of her sight.”

“Maybe I will,” Hana agreed happily, “London is nice.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence for a while, save for the beeping of Lena’s heart monitor and the hum the morphine pump. Hana wrapped an arm around Lena as she turned on her side, getting comfy once again. The two had grown a lot closer since Dva joined overwatch, it was a given since Lena was the closest to Hana’s age next to Brigitte. Despite the seven year age different between them, they’d quickly become close friends. Lena has began seeing Hana as a little sister and she would do anything to protect her.

“Lee?”

Lena hummed sleepily, “Yeah?”

Hana’s voice seemed apprehensive, “Can I ask you something?”

Lena raised an eyebrow and turned her head to look at the younger girl, “What’s on your mind, love?”

“Could you tell me about Amélie?” Hana winced at the way Lena’s eyes portrayed her pain, “If it’s not to hard on you.”

Lena put on a brave face, though talking about her best friend who might as well be dead was still painful, “What do you want to know, Hana?”

“What was she like? I never met her but you seemed to be rather fond of her. I’ve heard she was lovely to be around.”

“She was lovely,” Lena began in a soft tone, “So lovely. She seemed a bit snobbish in the beginning but I think that just comes with her being a countess, you know? Once we actually spent time together I realized how sweet she actually was. She was so joyful and her laugh, God, Hana, her laugh was so adorable you just couldn’t help but smile when you heard it.”

Hana smiled sadly at the way Lena’s eyes were melancholic, knowing the memories were all very bittersweet to her now. She patted Lena’s hand lightly, “I’m sure it was pretty. She was very beautiful in the photos I’ve seen.”

Widowmaker may have Amélie’s body but she did not resemble the woman much at all. Amélie hadn’t been as thin, having a nice dancer’s build with a little more meat on her bones. Widowmaker’s blue skin was pulled taunt over bone, clearly due to the fact that she no longer needed to eat. Amélie had the kindest soft grey eyes Lena had even seen as well, which made Widowmaker’s contrasting golden eyes all the more unsettling. Widowmaker’s mannerisms were a little more similar, but her demeanour contrasted so much with Amélie’s that she barely seemed like the same person anymore.

“She was gorgeous,” Lena agreed with a sure nod, “A dancer too. So strong and sure of herself, seeing her dance was absolutely breathtaking.”

“Lena?”

The older girl made a sound in reply, lost I thought now as she remembered her past with Amélie and Gérard.

Taking that as a response, Hana continued cautiously, “Did you...love her?���

“Uh,” Lena was a bit taken aback, “I... well I never admitted it; never really liked to think about it. She was my mentor’s wife, Hana, I couldn’t have feelings for her.”

“But you did,” Hana concluded, knowing the answer already.

“Yeah.”

Hana took her hand and laced their fingers together, giving Lena’s hand a reassuring squeeze, “I’m sorry, Lena.”

“It’s okay,” Lena said even though it really wasn’t and never had been okay, “I miss her but... Angela’s right. Unless Widowmaker comes to us for help, we can’t change what happened. We don’t even know if Mercy could reverse the brainwashing, Talon’s had her for so long now. The other day could have ended a lot differently, I’m just as surprised that she didn’t decide to kill me.”

“It’s okay to hurt over it still, Lena. Your feelings are valid and it’s okay to mourn the loss of your friend. Maybe you should have thought before you acted yes, but Widowmaker didn’t kill you and that’s all that matters right now.” Hana looked at her pointedly, “But please no more running head first into danger like that. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me, love,” Lena promised, “I’ll be here to be your annoying big sister forever.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Oxton.”

Lena laughed and Hana did too, though her’s was partially interrupted with a yawn.

“Sleepy?” Lena echoed her friend’s earlier question, earning a nod from the younger.

“Yeah,” Hana replied as she threw her arm back across Lena’s waist, “Nap time.”

With a chuckle, Lena wrapped her arms around her best friend, watching as she snuggled closer and closed her eyes. It was times like this where Hana’s true age showed, where she was just a nineteen year old girl and not a soldier or a superstar gamer. She was just Hana Song, a sweet girl who worked too hard and worried too often. This was the Hana that Lena felt drawn to protect, her baby sister who she knew wasn’t always as strong as she forced herself to be.

Hana had fallen asleep quickly, leaving Lena awake and left to her own devices. She was basically immobilized due to her leg and half of Hana’s weight resting on her, so she occupied herself by glancing around the room. It was a normal hospital room, small and all white with the usual equipment. There was a tiny couch and a counter with a sink across the room, and a door that led to the small bathroom across the way. The main door was creaked open, making Lena jump until she realized it was just Fareeha.

“Hey there, little pup,” the Egyptian woman spoke softly when she saw Hana was asleep, “How are you feeling?”

Lena smiled at her, “Sleepy, but not bad, love. How’s Angie?”

“Overworked, but she’ll be fine,” Fareeha replied with a sure nod, “She’s stubborn but she means well.”

Lena was about to answer when a yawn interrupted her, making Fareeha laugh in that charming booming way that made everyone smile.

“Why don’t you rest, little one?”

“Nervous,” Lena admitted quietly, “Don’t like unfamiliar rooms, especially hospitals, reminds me too much of after the accident.”

Fareeha crossed the room and dragged the single chair closer to the bed, “Oh, you poor thing. Hopefully you’ll get home soon, that will make things easier I figure.”

Lena nodded and smiled when Fareeha’s warm hand brushed over her forehead. The older woman was so gentle, contrasting her stern appearance and large, muscular body. She was undeniably handsome, in a way that everyone was so drawn to her. Not to mention her way of speaking was so eloquent and reassuring that her presence soothed Lena almost immediately.

“Would you like me to sing something,” Fareeha questioned nonchalantly, “It used to help keep you calm, no?”

After the slipstream incident, Lena had been contained in a see through glass bubble as Winston and Mercy worked to keep her anchored to this world. As she was drifting in and out of the time frame, the young woman would often have panic attacks. Fareeha was usually there to bear witness to the attacks, since she was almost always around Angela. She had been the one to keep Lena calm, surprisingly, by singing her lullabies in Arabic.

“Sure,” Lena replied with a smile at the other woman, “That’d be nice.”

So Lena snuggled back down into her blankets, Hana’s body heat keeping her warm and feeling safe. Fareeha kept a hand on her hair, running her fingers through it gently as she began to sing a lullaby that had become rather familiar to Lena. It was called Nami Nami, “Sleep sleep” or something along those lines, and it was one of Lena’s favourites. Fareeha’s singing voice was low and pleasant, immediately surrounding Lena in a sense of calm and comfort.

Soon enough Lena began to drift off, letting her eyes flutter closed as Fareeha’s voice lulled her into sleep. She was almost completely asleep when she felt the faintest brush of lips on her forehead.

“Rest well, little one. Heal nice and strong, we need you on our team again.”