#and that we feel disappointed when we learn what they did

[trainsandkitties]

TW: Suicide/Self-Harm/Addiction

July 18th 1974

"I haven't written in a while. My arm healed up somewhat, at least I thought it did. But James has gotten worse only a day after my last entry. Their fever spiked really high and we weren't sure which medications we could give them. It got to the point where they began hallucinating. For some reason I started feeling guilt. Maybe because I have taken anti-infammatory pills for my arm and the stash became scarse. Maybe because I felt like I needed to know what to do. I'm not sure what urged me to slip across the wall and run. My hike lasted a good while, because the sun began setting when I was forced to stop. I wasn't really aware of my surroundings so I slipped and sprained my ankle. Only when I was in the grass I noticed my arm was in pain and I was burning up as well. I started accepting the fact that I'd perish before I'd be found by our people, when I noticed what looked like a spear pointed directly at the lense in my mask. I was found, but not by anyone from the commune. It was that lurker that made it impossible for me to sleep. Before I could say anything that bastard knocked me out with a hard object. A metal bottle maybe? I woke up hours later in the lurker's hideout. I fully expected to have missing kidneys and valuables, but to my surprise, they were all there. I was patched up, actually. Fresh bandages on my arm, my head and a wet rag across my forehead to calm the fever down. I didn't really believe salvation had arrived yet, since I could have just been taken as a hostage. Dear this is going to be a long entry. The sun started rising when my captor showed up, hands filled with canned food and water bottles. For a good while I believed my fever made me hallucinate just like James. I must have started seeing ghosts, because I was looking at Gordon. We all believed he died a year ago. However we were either facing a zombie invasion or he managed to survive. The following hours were extremely awkward. Neither one of us spoke much. We simply shared the pathetic meal of canned beans warmed up over the coal stove and shared very simple explanations of how we've been. I had a lot of shame in me. The things I've done since the blast, I'm not proud of still haunt me. Even now when we're both in the commune once more. Gordon wasn't percise in recounting his story either. All I learned is that he got blinded by the blast, clawed at his face until he could somewhat see and scream, was found and treated by Victor and once he and Kevin died in winter, he began hiking around, just trying to survive. I couldn't help but mention the hoofprints we found and I was told he found a horse. The mare was very much alive and healthy somehow, so she's been helping him get his stuff around with a carriage. Once I got better, she was the one to get us to the commune. I was in the car, forbidden to even move my leg. During our way back I've gotten the feeling things were at least somewhat like before. The conversations became less forced, we even joked a little. I was mortified when Gordon showed me his prosthetic legs, but after he joked they make good projectile weapons, I felt a little bit better. Two fingers on his left hand were missing too, but he snapped at me when I asked. I noticed he was taking swigs from a bottle that reeked of alcohol as well. I was disappointed for a while, but then understood, returning to addiction is something anyone would do in such a situation. And I couldn't really scold him for bad attitude either. I wasn't as nice myself. People were quite shocked when we returned, obviously. Quite suspicious too. But when Gordon helped them find medication for James, they grew to trust him. Even if it was just a little. They don't trust me much anymore either, after running away like that. We're both outcasts. Maybe we'll get closer on those grounds. The distance he's keeping me at is killing me."

[ak-vintage]

From the Ground Up - Chapter 3

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x OFC ("Reader" Format/Second Person POV)

Series Summary: After getting laid off from your job, you are forced to move back in with your parents until you can get back on your feet. You can't help but feel like you have started your life over again at square one, but when your dad's best friend offers his help in the form of a job at his burgeoning construction business, you learn that maybe there is more than one path to the life of your dreams.

Chapter Summary: Your relationship with Jacob becomes even more strained when Joel makes you an offer that's impossible to turn down.

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Dual POV. Angst. Relational conflict. Classism. Complicated family dynamics. References to past alcohol consumption. (Still 18+ like the rest of my blog.)

Word Count: 6.2K

Read on AO3 | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

good morning babe ❤️ how was the party?

Blowing a strand of sleep-tangled hair out of your face, you stared blearily at the text notification glaring back at you from your phone screen. He had to be kidding.

A part of you was tempted to compose something biting in response, something like, “If you had responded to my text yesterday, you would know.” But the hour was too early, the clock in the upper left corner of your screen reading 7:03, and truthfully, if your boyfriend didn’t understand how asinine of a question that was, you weren’t certain you were feeling like explaining it to him.

Instead, you thumbed a quick, terse response, abandoned your phone on your nightstand, and dragged yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. You were awake now; you might as well get the day started.

When you returned a handful of minutes later, face washed and hair pulled up off your neck, the screen of your phone glowed once more, and you could not stop yourself from picking it up and swiping it open.

fine what’s up?

Well, you thought, at least he had the awareness to notice that you were being short with him. That was something.

You continued the tense conversation as you made your way downstairs, as you started a pot of coffee, as you sliced yourself a bagel and tossed it into the toaster. If Jacob had woken up this morning and suddenly decided that he wanted to talk to you after weeks of two-word messages and zero FaceTime calls, you were damn sure going to make him work for it.

nothing ??? what do you want me to say? what’s your deal? did something happen?

Gathering up your breakfast and a steaming cup of coffee, you quietly opened the front door and sneaked outside. One of the few things you had missed about your parents’ home when you moved away for school was the sturdy old swing your dad had hung on the front porch when you were little. On the rare instances when you found yourself eating breakfast alone these days, this was where you preferred to do it. It was early for a Sunday morning, the raging Texas heat still mild and the neighborhood quiet, and if you could manage to tempt a little breeze, it was uncommonly peaceful.

Setting your coffee mug and your plate on the swing beside you, you considered for a minute how you wanted to respond to Jacob. It was clear to you that he wasn’t going to get why you were upset if you didn’t spell it out for him. As disappointing of a conclusion as that was, you could not say you were surprised. This was not the first time an argument with him had required you to lead the horse to water, as it were.

i texted you yesterday. i was anxious and having a hard time and i needed you and you ignored me. again. i didn’t ignore you babe i was busy you know my team had that go-live get pushed to this weekend. that’s why i couldn’t come down to visit. we talked about that.

You sighed, taking a heavy pull on your coffee. Even with the addition of your favorite creamer, it still scalded your throat on its way down.

It was true that that had been the explanation Jacob provided when he bailed on his plans to come and visit you this weekend. It was a perfectly plausible one – Jacob was a project manager for a software company, and it wasn’t uncommon for these kinds of events to happen over weekends if it better suited the client’s schedule. Although disheartening, you had been willing to accept that as a reason for him to stay in Dallas.

But even so…

yeah i know but you’re telling me you were working on that literally all day? i was at that party til like 11 last night. i texted you at 5. you couldn’t have found 10 min somewhere in there to say hi?

Taking a bite of your bagel, you watched as the three little dots at the bottom of your screen appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared again. You were nearly done with the first half of your breakfast before his response finally came in.

i’m sorry. i guess my mind was just on other stuff okay well i think about you all the time. it would be nice if that was reciprocated sometimes.

The moment you hit send, a pang of remorse made itself known in the pit of your stomach, making acid burn at the back of your throat. Perhaps that had been a bit harsh. But you could not deny that it was true; you did think about your boyfriend all the time. You missed him terribly – the weekly lunch dates in the middle of the work day, the nights on your couch watching old sitcoms and reality shows, the warmth of his body under your shared blankets, the scratch of his five o’clock shadow on the back of your neck in the middle of the night.

But more than that, you found that his needs and his wants often took up more space in your mind than your own. His dreams, his goals, his desires, his happiness – they were never far from your thoughts, and in the instances in which they came into conflict with yours, you were always the one to make the sacrifice. Your needs bent to his every single time, and he probably didn’t even notice.

When was the last time he had compromised on something for your happiness, your wellbeing?

Again, you watched as Jacob typed, phone in one hand, half-empty coffee cup in the other. Eventually, a series of single-line messages appeared, one right after the other.

that isn’t fair and you know it but i understand your point i’ll try to be better. i’m sorry.

Well. It wasn’t nothing. Jacob was a proud man. To see him apologize for anything was a rare occurrence.

thank you

You let the message linger for a moment, then…

i love you

Just as you drained what was left of your coffee, one last notification lit up your phone screen.

love you too babe

You loitered on the porch swing for a bit longer, swaying gently back and forth as you began mentally cataloguing everything you hoped to accomplish that day. Your bedsheets needed stripped and washed along with the normal weekly loads of laundry. Your dad was out of his favorite protein bars, and your mom had mentioned something about making brownies for her book club this week, so you would need the ingredients for that. And you probably should spend some time sending out more job applications. It had been a couple days since you had had the motivation to do so, but discouraging as it was, it wasn’t as if you could simply opt out of it…

“Mornin’.”

Blinking rapidly as you came back to yourself, you glanced toward the sound of the greeting to find Joel hovering at the end of his driveway, squinting into the sun as he waved in your direction. His dark brown hair, touched with the faintest traces of silver at the temples, was rumpled with sleep, and he wore a plain, navy-blue t-shirt that stretched across his broad shoulders in a way that should not have been as distracting as it was.

“Morning,” you called back, returning his wave. “Surprised to see you up this early. I thought you’d be wiped after yesterday.”

The older man shrugged and smiled wryly. “I am, but I’ve still got some cleanup to take care of. Trying to get it out of the way before it gets too hot out.”

“Smart.” Taking in the sweat at his shirt collar, the glisten on his forehead, you assumed he must have been at it for some time already, likely toiling away in his back yard while you lounged on the porch with a leisurely breakfast. “You want to take a breather? Come have a seat?”

You expected him to decline, but it was almost as though he had been waiting for the invitation. With a nod, he crossed the lawn between your two homes in a dozen or so long, loping strides, thick arms swinging as he jogged up the stairs onto your porch. “If you don’t mind,” he said. “Actually, I was hoping to run into you this morning.”

You felt your eyebrows raise, and you shifted in your seat to face him more directly. “Oh?”

“I, uh.” He hesitated a moment, scratching his patchy, stubbly beard in thought. “I have a proposition for you.”

Something charged and fluttering ignited in your belly, something somewhere between anticipation and anxiety as his statement hung in the balmy morning air. “I’m listening,” you prompted.

Joel seemed lost in his thoughts for another moment, as though weighing his words carefully before he said them aloud. “So you know me and Tommy have been workin’ real close with your dad for a few years now.” You nodded. “With that, and all the attention we’ve been getting from those jobs with other developers in the area, we’re going through some… Well, you might call ‘em growing pains.”

“Okay?”

“See, I’m usually the one that manages our contracts. And I track purchases, make sure they go to the right site, make sure we get paid on time, all that back-office stuff. And if I’m bein’ honest, darlin’, I’m barely keeping my head above water,” he confessed. “We been thinking about bringing somebody on for a long time to help out. Like a…office manager-type person.”

Oh, fuck.

In that moment, you knew precisely where this conversation was headed, and a wave of mortification so strong you could no longer meet his eyes passed over you. Gaze in your lap, fingers wrapped tight around your coffee cup, you started to shake your head in denial. “Joel…”

But the older man plowed onward, refusing to acknowledge your apparent discomfort. “I wanted to see if you’d be interested.”

“Joel, if this is about our conversation last night…” God, you had known it had been a mistake to be so vulnerable with him at the party, to allow yourself to relax in the strong steadiness of his presence and the soft warmth of his eyes and share so candidly your fears and your anxieties, feelings you hadn’t shared with anyone in the months you had languished in unemployment.

You didn’t need anyone’s pity. You didn’t need your dad’s friend’s charity. You had just…wanted to be seen. But if Joel thought you had been sniffing around for a bit of nepotism…

His response was emphatic in its denial. “It’s not.”

Your eyes snapped back up to meet his, and you hit with him a hard, pointed stare. “You promise?”

“I promise. Like I said, this is something we been thinking about for a long time anyway. Me and Tommy, we’re…hands-on. Blue-collar guys. We worked for other crews for almost 20 years before we got brave enough to set out on our own.” Joel ran a broad, thick-fingered hand through his hair, the dark strands standing up at odd angles with sweat. “Now, both of us have gotten a lot better with the business side of things over the years, but we still feel like we’re flyin’ by the seat of our pants half the time. You went to school for business, didn’t you?”

“Well, sure, but that doesn’t mean that I know how to run a construction company,” you scoffed.

He shook his head calmly. “No one’s asking you to. I’m just sayin’, might be nice to have somebody around who actually knows what they’re talking about. And didn’t you say you were good with computers? Half our records are still pen and paper, darlin’.”

You couldn’t quite suppress your surprise at that, the way you drew back and quirked your brow with interest.

Of course, your father’s friend spotted it immediately and pressed on. “Bet we could probably get a better handle on things and stay more organized if we used the computer more, but neither of us knows the first thing about how to do that. Honestly, you’d be doin’ us a favor.”

But the intrigue was not enough to have you ready to agree, nor was the bid to your people-pleasing nature. “Is this because of my dad?” you asked. “Do you feel…I don’t know, indebted to him for all the business he’s helped you guys get?”

Joel sighed, leaning back against the porch swing as his shoulders sagged just slightly. Something told you he had not been prepared for you to push back so hard against his offer, and although a part of you panicked at the idea of discouraging his generosity, a much larger part had to know that he was being honest with you. You would not take something you had not earned – you didn’t need a fucking handout, even if it was from Joel Miller.

“Look, I’d be lying if I said your dad wasn’t a big part of the reason why we’re so slammed right now,” he admitted after a beat of tense silence. “And it’s a great problem to have. But I wouldn’t be offering you this job just to make him happy. I love the man, but I run my business the way I see fit and not for anybody else.”

Nodding slowly, you fell silent, allowing the idea to settle in your brain for a moment. You couldn’t help but feel that this was all too simple, that there had to be some kind of catch to accepting something that had fallen so easily into your lap. For months now, you had been doing everything people always said to do when you were on the job market – polish and tighten your resume, network with people in your field, connect with friends and acquaintances who worked for companies you were interested in, scour the job boards daily, cast a wide net, apply to everything…

After all of that, was it really fair that all it took was one heartfelt conversation with your parents’ handsome neighbor, and you had an offer in your hands?

As though he could sense the direction of your thoughts, Joel added, “It won’t be glamorous work, you know. Might be some long hours for a while until you get your feet under you. And me and Tommy get called out to job sites all the time, so you’ll be alone in the office a lot. But I do think you’d be good at it. I think we’d be lucky to have you.”

His words surprised you, and you fought against the wave of heat that suffused your cheeks at the compliment. “What makes you think that?” you asked, praying your voice did not betray how deeply such simple praise had affected you.

“Because I see how hard you work,” he replied, matter-of-fact. “I see how organized you are, the way you pick up on every little detail. And I see the way you take care of your dad, the way you keep him on track. Same with your mom. It’s like…” He trailed off then, considering his words. “It’s like you know what people need before they can ask. And if I’m honest, I think me and Tommy need somebody like that on our team.”

With every gruff and sincere word from Joel’s lips, you could feel yourself softening, could feel your walls crumbling, and suddenly, you were back in the warm, smoky glow of that bonfire, bearing the most tender parts of you to the first person who had made you feel enough safe to do so in what had to have been years. Beside you on your parents’ old porch swing, Joel Miller’s dark brown eyes shone in the morning sunlight, and you knew you could no longer deny the honesty of his offer. He had no ulterior motives, no agenda he was attempting to keep hidden from you. He was telling the truth.

“Thank you, Joel,” you murmured, voice suspiciously hoarse and choked with emotion.

“I ain’t just blowin’ smoke up your ass, darlin’. I mean it,” he assured you. He cracked a small, dimple-cheeked smile for the first time since he sat down. “Will you at least think it over? Don’t need to make a decision right now, just…think on it for a day or two and let me know what you decide?”

Drawing your lower lip between your teeth, you nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Well, here. Lemme give you my number.” He reached into the back pocket of his worn, grass-stained jeans, pulling out a beat up, black leather wallet. Flipping it open, he drew a single business card from within and handed it to you. “You can give me a call anytime.”

Glancing down at the card in your hand, you took in the simple, sleek Miller Brothers Construction brand logo, his name in the bottom left corner followed by the address of his office and his cell phone number.

“I will,” you promised. “Thanks again.”

“You bet.” With a groan that belied his age, Joel pressed down on his knees with the heels of his hands and hoisted himself to his feet. “Say hi to your folks for me, okay?”

You nodded, suddenly unsure of whether you ought to…walk him home? Shake his hand? Throw your arms around his neck and hug him in thanks for what was certainly the wildest opportunity of your life?

Thankfully, you did none of those things. Instead, you simply said, “For sure. Uh, good luck with the party clean-up.”

You spent the day in a haze.

From the moment your dad’s friend had retreated back to his own yard and you tucked his business card into the pocket of your shorts, you had disappeared into the depths of your own thoughts. Floating through the house work, the grocery shopping, the meal prepping, you played the conversation over and over again in your mind until you felt as though you had memorized every word of it. You didn’t bother telling your parents about it, knowing that neither of them would be able to provide you with an objective perspective given their closeness with Joel. Also, the fact that both of them had gargantuan hangovers did not give you a great deal of confidence. They both spent the majority of the day in their pajamas, lounging in the living room with the lights off and the TV on low, so you kept to yourself.

Ultimately, as day turned to evening and evening to night, you found yourself calling Jacob.

You still weren’t certain you had moved past the way he had abandoned you at the party yesterday, but you reminded yourself that he had apologized, and from what you could tell, he at least had seemed sincere. And Jacob was a smart guy – it was one of the first things that had attracted you to him when you first met. You valued his perspective. So even if things between the two of you remained strained by the distance, you were willing to put that aside for now.

He answered on the first ring, and the familiarity of his voice was like a balm to your frayed nerves. It was easy to find your rhythm again, the comfortable back-and-forth that had made your time together in Dallas so easy, so natural. You asked him about his work project, which you learned had successfully gone live with only minor hiccups along the way, while he asked you about the goings-on around the neighborhood. You both avoided the topic of the Millers’ party, not wanting to press on that bruise just yet, but even still, it was…nice.

It had been over a month since your move back to Austin, and your relationship had never quite recovered. Perhaps you had turned a corner, you thought. Perhaps you were finally settling in to a new normal.

Sitting cross-legged on your bed, a basket of clean, dry laundry propped up next to you as you folded, you mentioned, “You know, I had the weirdest conversation with Joel today.”

A brief beat of silence from the other end of the connection met your statement, followed but some rustling and the distant sound of controller clicks. “Who’s Joel?”

“My parents’ neighbor. Well, my neighbor now, too, I guess.” You matched a pair of socks – gray, crew length, your father’s – and began to roll them together. “I’ve mentioned him before. He’s…he’s the one who hosted the party last night.”

“Oh, okay.”

You frowned as a prolonged silence fell between you again. “Aren’t you going to ask me why it was weird?”

A breathy laugh sounded in your ear, almost staticky over the phone, and Jacob replied, “Sorry, I’m distracted. I’m just joining a COD lobby. Why was it weird?”

“He offered me a job at his construction company. As an office manager.”

More controller clicking sounds could be heard through the connection as he made a grunt of surprise low in his throat. “Seems a little out of your wheelhouse.”

“Yeah, it might be,” you admitted with shrug, jostling the phone on your shoulder. “But it’s the first offer I’ve gotten in months. I need a job.”

“How much would he pay you?” he asked.

Hmm. That was a fair question, you would concede. It might be worth knowing what your salary would be before agreeing. Though admittedly, any salary at all would be better than what you were currently working with. “I’m not sure,” you confessed. “We haven’t gotten into the details yet.”

Jacob’s response was so quick, it nearly startled you. “Nope. Red flag,” he snapped decisively.

“You think so?” You couldn’t imagine Joel Miller – loyal, steady, everyman Joel Miller – intentionally trying to pull the wool over your eyes with something like this. Though you wouldn’t describe yourself as an especially shrewd person, you liked to think you would be able to tell if the older man were attempting to screw you over.

On the other end of the call, you could practically hear your boyfriend nodding. “What the hell kind of job offer doesn’t mention pay? Probably thinks he can take advantage of how desperate you are.”

Ouch. You winced, the word “desperate” hitting you like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t entirely wrong, you supposed, but still, having your current situation phrased like that – so bluntly and callously – was salt in the wound.

“I…guess? Maybe?” you said dubiously, your words coming out more like questions than statements. “He really doesn’t strike me as that kind of guy.”

“You see the best in everybody, babe.”

The sentiment sounded like a compliment, and from anybody else, it probably would be. But this was Jacob, and you knew him well enough by now to know what you saw as empathy and giving others the benefit of the doubt, he saw as naivety. It was a philosophical difference the two of you had never managed to resolve, and throughout the course of your relationship, it had come up on multiple occasions, the fulcrum around which more than one argument had swayed.

There was pride your voice when you replied, “Well, I try to.”

“I know, and it makes you easy to manipulate.” Another prolonged silence, more controller noises, and then, “Just…don’t let this dude lowball you, okay? If you’re going to have this job on your resumé for forever, you should at least get paid well for it.”

You paused your folding, the plain white undershirt in your hands crumpling into your lap as your eyes narrowed. Swallowing thickly against your raised hackles, you drew a deep breath before replying. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Jacob scoffed, like he was laughing at an inside joke that he thought you were privy to. “Oh, come on, Kay.” His tone was cajoling, almost playful. “This job is beneath you, and you know it. If I were you, I’d turn it down. You can afford to wait for something better.”

Blinking, you let out a sharp breath, his words echoing in your ears as all of the warmth and the safety you had felt at the beginning of the conversation evaporated and left only cold incredulity in its wake. You could…afford to wait for something better? Where had this man been for the past several months?

Where had he been when you fell behind on your monthly credit card payments and took a hit to your credit score? Where had he been when you stopped being able to take your turn to buy takeout for the two of you and instead started cooking dinner on date nights with meals made from discounted groceries? Where had he been when you had spent hours scouring the Dallas area for the most affordable storage units so you could hang on to as much of your apartment furniture as you could?

Where had he been when you tearfully drove your own U-Haul the nearly 200 miles to your childhood home, taking with you only your bed, your clothes, and a few sentimental items you couldn’t bear putting into storage?

Oh. That’s right.

He had been in Dallas. In his two-bedroom luxury apartment. The one that was too small for you to move into, the one that he hadn’t been ready to share, even in your time of need. That’s where he had been.

Wrestling your voice down from the scream building up in your throat, tasting like bile and dying to explode into your phone’s receiver, you gritted out, “No, Jacob, I literally cannot afford that.  Why the fuck do you think I’m in Austin right now? Plus, yeah, maybe it’s not some fancy firm downtown this time, but that doesn’t make it beneath me.”

If your boyfriend could tell just how deeply he had gotten under your skin, you would never know by his voice. He was matter-of-fact as he continued, “It’s a small-time construction company I’ve never even heard of run by your parents’ neighbor. Sounds like a downgrade to me.”

“Jacob…” You said his name like a sigh, like a plea, breathless and exasperated and tinged with a kind of bone-keep weariness you didn’t have the words to describe. “I am losing my mind living with my parents. Unemployment is enough to cover my expenses, but I have next to nothing left to save up. I have to start making money again – real money – if I ever want to be able to move out. And this is the first thing that’s come along that might actually let me do that.”

Your tirade was greeted by silence broken only by those same controller sounds – X, Y, A, left trigger, X again – soft and distant and endless.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, you felt a bit of your rage begin to leak away and reveal the tender wound beneath.

“I’d really like your support on this,” you admitted softly. “Don’t you want me to able to move back to Dallas? I…I thought this would make you happy.”

A vulnerable pause stretched between you, and then it was Jacob’s turn to sigh into the receiver. “I am happy, babe.” Flat, cool, unconvincing.

“Are you? Because it sounds like you’re trying to convince me not to take this job.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to jump at the first opportunity you’re given without thinking about what’s best for your future career opportunities. That’s all.”

Letting your eyes slip closed, chin pressed to your chest, you nodded even though he could not see you. Jacob meant well, but like you, he had a tendency to fix his focus far in the future. While others chose to live for the moment, your minds were always planning six, nine, twelve months ahead, always thinking about the next task, the next goal before you had even finished the current one.

Or at least, that was how you had been before your layoff, before breaking your lease, before…all of this. Now, you felt as though you couldn’t plan for the future, not while it was so in flux. Not until the present – the right now – started to feel a bit more secure.

You had hoped that Jacob might understand that.

“Yeah, I know,” you said eventually, your voice just as flat and dull as his had been.

“Look, at the end of the day, it’s your call. If this is what you want to do, then go for it. Just…” He trailed off, for the first time sounding as though he was weighing his next words carefully, questioning whether he ought to say them at all. “Just don’t feel like you need to slum it with the blue-collar guys if you don’t want to, okay?”

And there it was – the root of his hesitation. This job wasn’t beneath you because of your skills or your work experience. This job wasn’t beneath you because of your educational background. This job was beneath you because it wasn’t in an industry Jacob respected.

You ought to have known it would come to this. This job wasn’t something in tech, like his own job, or finance, like the men whose podcasts he favored. It wasn’t in insurance or healthcare, a company with real clout and deep pockets. It wasn’t even in the public sector, steady and stable.

This wasn’t about what was best for you and your financial situation, or your mental well-being, or your future employment prospects. This was about him. He didn’t want to have to say out loud to anyone who asked that his girlfriend worked for a small, family-owned construction company.

“…yeah. Got it.”

Your boyfriend had always admired your dedication to your career; the two of you had met at a young professionals’ mixer, after all. So many of your conversations early in your relationship had been about your respective jobs – what you liked about them, what you would change, what your five-year plan was, where you hoped to end up. He had called you impressive once, and you had ridden the high of that earnest, wide-eyed praise all the way to nights on his couch and weekends in his bed.

If you took this job, you weren’t certain he would find you impressive anymore.

“Call you tomorrow?” Jacob asked, seeming to sense that the conversation was over.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“Okay. Love you, babe.”

Swallowing against the thick lump that had formed in your throat, you inhaled deeply and said, “Love you, too.”

It was nearing 9:00 PM when Joel’s phone rang.

He had been parked on the couch in front of the television for the better part of an hour, Curtis and Viper 2 playing in the background for what had to be the hundredth time since he had introduced the series to Sarah last year. The teen sat at the other end of the sofa, folded into the corner, all elbows and knees under the hand-me-down crochet blanket wrapped around her like a cocoon. No matter how busy he got with work, and no matter how many extra-curriculars she signed up for, Sunday nights were theirs and usually involved pizza and movies until one of them started to doze.

Tonight, it had nearly been Joel, his eyes beginning to itch and his head feeling heavy on his neck even as the movie’s explosive climax approached. Just as he had been about to surrender to the pull of the soft, worn couch cushions and allow his head to drop back, his phone startled him awake, singing and buzzing at full volume from the pocket of his flannel pajama pants.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, digging clumsily for the thing with one hand as he rubbed the fatigue from his eyes with the other. When he finally unearthed it, an unfamiliar number stared back at him from the sleek, black screen.

These days, unfamiliar numbers meant business-related. He would have to answer.

Clearing his throat, he swiped to accept the call and brought the phone to his ear. “Miller Brothers Construction, this is Joel.”

“Hi, Joel, it’s Kate. Kate Walker.”

He drew back at the unexpected sound of your voice, soft and hesitant in his ear. All irritation he may have felt at the disturbance melted away at the sound, and instead, he felt a small smile curl the corner of his lip.

“Hey there, darlin’. What can I do for you?”

“I, uh...” You paused for the briefest of moments, as though gathering yourself. “I’m sorry for the late phone call, but I wanted to let you know that I’ve given it some thought, and if the offer’s still on the table, I’d like to accept the job.”

Joel let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and a surge of relief and gratitude swelled in his chest. He hadn’t been overstating the situation when he had spoken with you earlier – he and Tommy truly were drowning, and the scale of their business had gotten to the point where the administrative tasks were entirely too much for the two of them to handle on their own. Not when they had developers to meet with, not when they had builders to oversee and crew conflicts to mediate and materials to order and payroll to manage. It had taken very little effort to sell his brother on the idea of offering the job to you.

And if it happened that you were in need of a job, if it happened that the weight of your circumstances might be eased by joining his company, well… Then that was simply a happy coincidence.

Or so he told himself.

“Very happy to hear it,” he said sincerely. “Tell you what, are you free tomorrow to come by the office? We can talk details, sign some paperwork, I can give you a tour of the place…”

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Sarah quirking her head, suddenly intrigued by the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m free,” you replied. “What time would work best for you?”

“I’ve got a call with a supplier at nine… How’s 10?” he offered.

“10 is perfect.”  He could hear the smile in your voice through the phone, and something near his heart – behind his ribs, deep in his chest – warmed and softened at the sound.

“Great. Address of the office is on the card I gave you earlier.”

A brief silence fell over the connection then, but when you spoke again, that quiet vulnerability was back in your voice. “Thank you again, Joel, for the opportunity. I won’t let you down.”

The absurdity of such a statement startled a chuckle out of him, and even though he knew you couldn’t see him, he shook his head. “Don’t think that’s even possible, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your answering laugh was small, breathy, almost disbelieving. “Yeah, I’ll see you then,” you said. “Have a good night.”

The two of you said your goodbyes, and Joel slipped his phone back into his pocket. Awareness of his surroundings suddenly coming back to him, he noticed that at some point during the brief conversation, Sarah had paused the movie and was looking at him with an arched brow.

“You can start it up again,” he prompted, waving his hand toward the TV.

But his daughter ignored him, instead offering him a sly smile. “Who was that?”

“Kate. From next door. Now, c’mon, I wanna finish the movie before I pass out.”

“Ohhh, it’s Kate now. I see,” the girl teased, still grinning like she knew something he didn’t.

Joel rolled his eyes with a huff. “What else would I call her? That’s her name, isn’t it?”

“Well, sure, but she’s always just been ‘Mac’s oldest.’ She’s Kate now.”

Goddamn it. She wasn’t wrong. That might have been the first time he had ever referred to you by your name.

Something was shifting, something faint and tender and new growing in the pit of his stomach that had been stretching its limbs and opening its eyes since the moment he locked eyes with you in your parents’ doorway. It was small now, easy to ignore, but if Sarah could already sense it, he needed to be careful. He was 15 years your senior, at least. He was your father’s closest friend.

And as of tomorrow, he would also be your boss.

“Just hit play,” he grumbled, focusing his gaze back on the TV screen.

Sarah chose not to push the issue any further; she simply did as he asked, but even without looking, he could sense the piqued interest and keen observation still happening at the other end of the couch.

This could only end badly, he knew. But now that the thing in his gut had awakened, he had no idea how to put it back to sleep.

Credits: Dividers - @saradika-graphics; Beta Reading - @sunshinehaze1

Taglist: @shchristine @80ssong @half-moon16 @/sunshinehaze1 @kilamonster @peepawispunk @almostfoxglove @orodeah @rosebuds-and-moonlight @brittmb115 @kedsandtubesocks @yxtkiwiyxt @yorksgirl @pedroswife69 @glitterspark

If you would like to be included in the taglist for this fic, please comment on this chapter or send me a message!

[maythestarsguidemyway]

I tried and in my opinion I failed but there you go:

Late night talks

“Plutarch offered me a job. In the Capitol.” I say as I dip a piece of cheese bun into the bowl of stew in front of me.

“I hope you rejected it.” Haymitch murmurs as he fills two glasses with red wine and hands me one. He then sits next to me, he rests his hand on my tight. He claims he ate earlier this evening, but I’m not sure I believe him. I know how he is when I am away and this time I was away for almost a month - on those days he drink more than eats. I can’t say I blame him. Being separated from him is hard on me as well, and I don’t really have any appetite when I’m back in the Capitol. So coming home to a clean house and freshly baked buns and still hot beef stew felt like a feast.

“I said I would discuss it with you first.” I’m eating slowly, enjoying every bite of my late dinner.

“You reject it. First thing tomorrow.” he steals a chunk of my bun.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“You want to accept it and move back to the Capitol?” he doesn’t sound offended but rather a bit disappointed. I did promise him this one would be my last trip back. That’s why I stayed longer - to close that chapter of my life. While technically I am still in therapy, I don’t want to spend anymore times on train to the Capitol back and forth and experience huge set backs each time I am there. I would happily continue therapy but not in person. And even though every once in a while we need to be apart from each other, Haymitch hates when I go alone, and I am pretty much always go alone, because he hates the Capitol even more and I can’t ask him to accompany me. We tried, it didn’t work. It didn’t help neither his, nor my healing . So we agreed he would stay back - it’s not always easy because we need each other to deal with our ever present traumas but at the same time we need to learn how to cope on our own without letting our demons destroy us. I promised him I would be back at home in Twelve as soon as possible. Funny to think I call Twelve as my home now, but Haymitch and the children are there, and home is where they are. And it worked…until Plutarch’s offer.

“No…not really, but I feel like I owe him.”

“You owe him shit. If anything, he owes you. And if he wants to live to see another day, he stays as far from you as possible…mind if I remind you your promise of this being your last trip.” he doesn’t look at me, just tear another chunk from the bun next to my plate and dip it in my stew. I lean in to kiss him, his stubble tickles my lips.

“And I meant that. You know it. I have nothing left there, I have everything I need here with you and the children. He actually promised I could do it from here.” I offer him a spoon of stew, but he declines. Instead, he goes for the bun again. At least he’s eating something, not just drinking.

“Yeah, and he also promised you would be safe in the Capitol.” he says as he drinks the rest of his wine. When his glass is empty, he gets up, presses a kiss on the top of my head “Plutarch is full of shit, princess.” he leaves the kitchen and before I would even have a chance to ask him anything, I hear the back door opening and closing. I let out a tired sigh. The last thing I want to deal with after a day-long train ride is a fight with Haymitch. But we once made a deal we would never let a day end with unsaid things.

Before I would go after him, I clean up the kitchen and put away the remaining food. Once I’m out on the back porch, I don’t see him anywhere, I’m not even sure if he’s in the backyard or left. I just hope he’s not drinking somewhere. I sit on the swing we installed last summer and wait for him to return. It takes him almost an hour to return. He sits down next to me and extends his hand, our fingers intertwined as I put mine in his.

“Effie, I’ve never wanted to tell you this…Because I didn’t want you to think you are less or you mean less to me.” he’s not looking at me, he’s staring into the darkness, fixates on an invisible point somewhere in the distance. His voice is steady, that’s how I know he’s been thinking a lot about whatever he’s about to say “I've never wanted to leave you behind, I knew you would never be safe…Twenty-five years by my side is not exactly a life-insurance, Princess, not in a rebellion against the Capitol. Plutarch kept saying you would be just fine, they cannot accuse you of any shit, you’re the perfect Capitol puppet. I don’t think even he believed whatever shit left his babbling mouth. ‘Cause…let’s face it there were reasons upon reasons they could arrest you for - as they did…but even if they didn’t have anything, they would have created a fake one. Anything just to punish those who I love. And you have been by my side for a twenty-five years, you have supported me through everything. Anyone who thought being Capitol citizen would have saved you was and is a moron. Including me for not fighting hard enough for you. You should have been on that hovercraft with me and Katniss, and I wanted you on it but I didn’t do everything in my power for you. And therefore I failed you. You don’t know how mad I still am at myself for letting Plutarch foul me and you don’t know how scared I am that I would fail you again. You are not safe in the Capitol, you are not even safe in Twelve. But here, they don’t dare to touch you. But I can’t accompany you to the Capitol to protect you. And I will not risk losing you again. If you wanna accept it, that’s your call, Princess, I will try to support you but I can’t promise anything.” silence falls on us for a long time. It was a love confession I never dared to hear. I know he didn’t leave me behind on his own terms - I never for a second I believed he left me behind because he didn’t want to save me, even in my darkest hourd I trusted him. As he said we have gone through a lot together and we are (and were) a team. From the very beginning.

“I won’t accept it.” I say as I snuggle up to his side “Not because I don’t want it, I’m not sure about that, but I am happy what I have now and where are we now. I don’t need more and I don’t need less - it’s enough and it’s perfect.”

[arttsuka]

People need to stop blaming 'parasocial relationships' when it's revealed to the public that a famous person has done something controversial (or even a crime) and the public is upset. 'I can't believe xxx did that!' doesn't always mean that the person who said it has a parasocial relationship with xxx. Usually it's just our faith in humanity, we want to believe that everyone has some basic human decency (especially someone we might admire) and it's only natural to be disappointed when we learn they're a bad person.

[cannimumsable]

The pattern is that people straight up do not read™. or they read a 3-5 tweet summary of what happened and treat it as if they did. or because shonen expectations based on "the classics" is bullshit and significantly rotted people's brains when deciding wether an ending is good or not.

Which could be nothing right

yeahhh. i will forever regret reading the last chapter through leaks because it was a dreadful experience, and watching everyone ever shit on it for like a week after genuinely made me want to just get off the internet forever or something because i felt like an idiot for liking the ending (all this is my fault for getting too invested in both tumblr and mha etc etc).

All the "it's rushed" and pacing complaints barely matter to me at this point because you just cannot feel the pacing of something correctly when you're reading it exclusively through leaks. you can't absorb info like that. And don't get me started on the number of complaints and criticisms I've seen of the last chapter that are just provably bullshit (I saw someone say Izuku didn't get a statue lmao. yes he did, you just read the fucking leaks and watched twitter drama unfold instead of reading the actual chapter i fear).

[arcanemarion]

re: consequences and "It's been 20 minutes!"

It's unfortunate that this particular point seems to have been missed.

In much of that final episode, nearly everything that could have had even a hint of consequence was either waved off as basically "it's fine", ignored, or spent an awkwardly long time making sure that no lasting consequence had to be borne. It (combined with many other moments leading up to it) undermined the weight of what happened for many people.

Wanting a fluffy happy ending for everyone because the world is literally on fire is understandable; that doesn't mean that it's going to make for good storytelling.

At the end of C2 a lot of people were bitching about all the unwrapped threads because there was so much left yet to do, but there's virtually none of that left for anyone in C3. I have a hard time envisioning what direct consequences or effects BH are going to collectively face for what they did months after the fact. Honestly, 20 minutes after the actual event sure seems like that's when they would face flack for their decision the most, and all they really got was a couple of people being angry at them instead of treating them like heroes. So really, yeah, it all feels pretty toothless and inconsequential, but especially because none of them changed.

Some of the most powerful moments in the finale were the gods appearing to their followers to say goodbye, but none of BH had that because they have 0 connection to them. Subsequent world consequences for their decision will affect (or at least should) other people disproportionately to them, and that's where the more interesting stories will be.

I don't doubt Matt's ability to contrive something for them to do, but my interests in subsequent Exandrian content lies outside of anything to do with BH.

[altarplay]

i guess it's good to have confirmation that our best is everyone's elses mediocre. lack of effort. doesn't care enough. etc.

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[painted-bees]

A quick, sloppy little comic about Magritte

[OC's]

(image description under the cut)

[Image Description: It's a vertical comic strip of 14 panels arranged one under the other. The style is realistic, done with sketchy lines in a dark burgundy. It is not colored or shaded and there is no background. The comic features the interactions of a couple, Magritte (also called Margie) and Rafael (also called Raf). Magritte is a young woman, she is wearing a baggy armhole tank top with a tight fitting black top underneath, shorts and boots. She has a messy bun and a small messenger bag slung over her left shoulder. Rafael is her partner, wearing baggy pants, sneakers, fingerless gloves, V-neck t-shirt and an open button-up jacket with a hoodie and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair has short side with long top bangs and a short goatee.

 (First panel): There's only Magritte visible from the waist up. Off screen, Raf says to someone else: “Magritte has our tickets.” Magritte is excited, looking straight forward. Her left hand in on her bag's strap, her right hand rummaging inside her bag. Magritte says: "Yeah! Even made sure to put them in my wallet so that I wouldn't- uh..."

 (Second panel): She is beginning to look concerned, now with her face turned to her back, both left hand holding the lip to open the bag wider and her right hand still rummaging inside. Magritte says: "wouldn't forget.... Hang on, it's not on it's usual pocket. Haha." The last is a nervous laughter.

 (Third panel): Magritte is kneeling on the ground. Rafael is standing to the side and behind her, only his feet visible. Magritte looks frantic, searching inside her bag. Her right arm is forearm deep digging in her bag. Magritte says: "It's definitely here-! It's the one thing I never forget 'cus I never take it out of my bag!" Rafael says, firmly: "Margie, when you took it out to put the tickets in, did you put the wallet back in the bag?" The letters are bolded, with the word "back" underlined for emphasis. Magritte says: "Give me some credit, there's no way I'm that stupid." The last three words are underlined for emphasis.

 (Fourth panel):  The scene has changed and now Magritte and Rafael are in a car. We see them from the passenger's side. Rafael is driving, looking straight ahead at the road. Magritte is hunched forward, hugging herself with the left hand. Her right hand is holding her head. She is looking out the passenger window, avoiding Raf.

 (Fifth panel):  Rafael turns slightly to look at Magritte.

 (Sixth panel):  The point of view is now a side profile view from the drivers side. Rafael has his left arm leaning on the open window, his right hand on the wheel. Magritte is hunched over facing the passenger window. Rafael says: "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about." Magritte says: "I can literally feel your disappointment."

 (Seventh panel): Back to the passengers side, Rafael is looking at the road. Magritte is frustrated, no longer leaning her head against her right hand and instead her hand is palm upwards. Rafael says: "Well, yes. It is a disappointing situation, but-" Magritte interrupts: "You'd think I'd be able to do the one thing I was asked to do-! That I'd at least learn from the last billion times I forgot shit. Rafael says, quieter: “that's not where I was going with this...”

(Eighth panel):  Magritte has her right hand holding her face with the palm on her cheek, left hand placing the tips of her fingers on her left temple and eye brows. She is frustrated and angry. Magritte says: "It's not like I've got anything more important rattling around in my brain.  But, for some reason, if it's not my music, or like.... food or something, then it's just not a priority. I can't make myself care enough to make it a priority!"

(Ninth panel): She now has both hands in front of her, elbows bent, finger extended in a vague hand gesture as if there was something in front of her. Magritte says: "I'm an adult in my 20s and I still manage my responsibilities like a child. I'd be more dependable if I could just stop and think for a second, but I'd probably forget to even breathe if it weren't for the..."

 (Tenth panel): Her frustrated expression turned to confusion. Her hands are still in the air in the same position as before. Magritte says:"... why are we parked?" Her noticing this stopped her rant.

(Eleventh panel): Magritte straightens up and faces the window entirely, left hand crossed over her body to lean on the car door. Rafael, off screen: "Margie." Magritte says: "Oh." Magritte's inner thoughts are written around her. "He stopped the car to scold me. No, not ‘scold’. Don't be a child about this. He's disappointed and just needs to make sure you understand so you can do better next ti-"

 (Twelfth panel): Magritte is still looking out the window, but now with a shocked expression. Rafael reached with his right hand, and its now resting gently on her upper back. Rafael interrupts her inner monologue with "I need you to stop repeating the shit your parents and teachers and such yelled at you growing up. They were wrong, and nothing you just said makes sense."

 (Thirteenth panel):  The perspective switches back to the driver's side profile. Rafael says: "A poor memory isn't synonymous with poor priorities. Nor does it speak to a lack of maturity. The priority was there, we just have to build a better habit of checking things before we leave the apartment. Both of us. It's gonna take time. You afford everyone else a ton of patience, all the time. Can you please afford some for yourself? The situation sucks, we were both looking forward to this. But it's not the end of the world. We didn't forget things on purpose. So let's take it easy and try to end the day on a good note. Alright?" Magritte says: "Okay... c-can we um...."

 (Fourteenth panel): Magritte has turned to face Rafael and her eyes are filled with tears and they're running down her cheeks.  Rafael looks startled, lifting his arm off Magritte's back. Magritte says: "Can we get some ice cream on the way back?" Rafael says: "O-of course!" End of description.]

This description was written and provided by Hiwi.

[foxcassius]

wait also my tags on that post were about people i knew in freshman and sophomore year of college specifically. i mean some of them i knew after that and most of them i knew from high school but damn some people really made everything about themselves when i was being emotionally manipulated in my freshman year

[foldingfittedsheets]

Did you know guinea pigs are born just like. Tiny adults? They’re fully cooked. They come out, eyes open, fully furred, ready to do the whole array of guinea pig activities.

I learned this as a child. I was perhaps ten when this story took place. Our female guinea pig was pregnant, but she’d gotten mites and needed a bath. She was wildly pregnant. Bulging at the seams with babies. Ready to burst at any moment because all the babies needed to stay in there long enough to be full pigs. But we wanted to avoid the babies all getting mites and needing baths. We failed, they all needed baths. Mites are a bitch.

We knew she had three babies cooking in there. How did we know? We could feel each individual bulge in her belly. My mom was overseeing the pig bath but I was pretty much just doing my own thing, scrubbing her gently, rinsing the soap carefully.

After the bath our mother pig was not in the best mood. I was carrying her back to her freshly made mite free bedding when she’d had enough.

I was acutely aware that I was holding four lives in my childish grip, and I bore her along as if she were made of precious jewels and spun glass. Balanced in my hands I could feel the bulge of each of her babies slithering wetly around under her skin.

Which is why when she hauled off and sank her teeth into the meat of my hand I didn’t flinch. I didn’t drop her. I bore her as carefully and steadily as if I weren’t now bleeding freely, and I set her gently into her pig palace.

As I drew my hands away I screamed:

“FUCK!!!”

I then turned to look at my mother, who’d been watching the process intently.

I was fully aware that I had just done the worst possible swear directly in front of an authority figure and was very probably going to be punished. My mom was looking at me with a blank expression that I was waiting to turn stormy or disappointed.

“That must have hurt a lot,” was all she said.

She helped me throughly clean and bandage the bite. All the babies were born healthy and sound, looking like someone had used a shrink ray on trio of a guinea pigs.

Years later my mother confided in me that contrary to my belief that she’d be angry for swearing what she’d felt for me in that moment was overwhelming pride that in the face of pain and shock I had refused to let harm befall my little charges.

[kashverse]

imagine the horror on sukunas face when his daughter starts saying the slangs he uses 😭

it was bound to happen. sukuna’s vocabulary was always going to come back to bite him in the ass. you just didn’t think it would be your sweet, precious angel who would be the one to scream—

"FUCK!"

—in the unusually quiet sukuna household.

you froze. sukuna froze. the houseplants probably froze. there was a pin-drop silence as you slowly turned to look at your sweet baby girl, standing in the middle of the living room with her tiny fists clenched, an identical scowl to her father’s on her face.

"…baby," you said carefully, "what did you just say?"

"FUCK!" she repeated, as if testing out the weight of the word, her face scrunching in concentration. you gasped. 

"sukuna."

"why the fuck are you looking at me?" sukuna hissed, then immediately winced. "shit—fuck—damn it!"

"papa said a bad word!" babykuna pointed, looking gleeful.

"you just said it first!" sukuna yelled, looking personally betrayed. you rubbed your temples, already feeling a headache coming on. “where did you even learn that word?” 

your baby girl blinked at you. "from papa."

you turned your head so slowly towards your husband that you swore you heard your neck crack.

"of course she did."

sukuna was silent.

"baby," you knelt down in front of your daughter, taking her tiny hands in yours. "we don’t say that word, okay?"

her little face fell, eyes glistening with tears as she realized you weren’t pleased. "did i…" she sniffled, voice wobbling, "did i dis’point mama?"

oh. oh no. you felt actual heartbreak rip through your chest as you scooped her up, hugging her tight. "no, no, no, baby, you could never disappoint me—"

but before you could fully reassure her, she burst into tears, wailing, "i don’t wanna make mama sad—!"

"shit," sukuna muttered, running a hand down his face. "now look what you did."

"what i did?!" you shot back, eyes blazing. "you're the reason she knows that word in the first place!"

"it's a normal word!" sukuna argued, throwing his arms up. "people say it everyday!"

"SHE'S FIVE!"

as you continued to yell, sukuna slowly retreating into the corner of the room, crouching down, his arms wrapped around his knees. he was silent. too silent. you paused mid-rant, suddenly aware of the existential crisis happening behind you.

"…sukuna?"

he didn’t respond. just stared into the abyss, eyes vacant. "i failed as a parent," he muttered to himself, voice hollow. "my baby girl… my princess… she swore before she even learned to spell properly. i—i’ve corrupted her—"

you blinked. "sukuna, what the hell—"

"don't cuss in front of her!" he snapped, looking devastated.

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!"

"mama said a bad word!" babykuna gasped.

"oh my god." you wanted to scream.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

A little help and more

pairing: virgin!felix x virgin!afab!reader x experienced!chan

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 5.7k

description: felix and you need a little guidance and chris is more than happy to assist.

warnings: threesome(obviously), sub!felix, switch!reader, dom!chan, oral (f and m receiving), handjobs, cumshots, squirting, nipple play, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v), little bit of ass play, dirty talk, lots of pet names (lmk if i missed something)

a/n: chan is called chris in this fic, established relationship, this turned out a little more fluffier than i thought it would be ehehe, hope y'all enjoy this one too🤭🩷

~check out my: Masterlist

Dating Felix was one of the best things you've ever decided to do and you knew that, even if it's barely been half a year since he first asked you to be his girlfriend.

You were always a little shy when it came to relationships but Felix was even more shy than you and it took him a long time just to ask you out on a date or to hold your hand.

You found it endearing really, it made him seem more sweet and genuine, like he wasn't coming onto you too strongly and you liked that.

But in certain situations you wished he was a little more assertive even if you didn't mind taking the lead, you had a bit more experience than he did and you wanted to take your physical relationship to the next level, share that intimate moment with him.

But Felix would always back out before anything too risky happened, and you worried he didn't find you attractive so you decided to confront him about it.

He got so embarassed when you pointed it out, his cheeks blushing instantly as he avoided your eyes and played with his fingers.

He reassured you that it's not your fault, and confessed that you were actually his first girlfriend, that he never even kissed anyone before. You were shocked, thinking that there's no way that someone as beautiful and sweet as him was single until now.

Felix never told you that before, thinking you weren't gonna date him if you thought he was clueless and inexperienced, he felt so bad for withholding the truth from you that you could see his eyes become watery.

You were quick to comfort him, telling him that you understand and that it's okay, you don't mind him being a virgin, you actually found it kind of adorable. You weren't that much more experienced than him anyways, you only ever went to second base with a guy you dated briefly before Felix and he seemed relieved to hear that, you were going to get into it for the first time together and that made it even more special.

After that talk, you were sure your boyfriend was going to relax and maybe try not to always be so respectful with his hands and lips.

But, the next time you initiated a makeout session, as soon as your hand slid up his thigh, he jerked away from you, apologizing profusely after doing so.

"Felix, what's wrong?"- you asked, frustration building up inside you but he looked so panicked that you tried to be as gentle as you could with him.

"I'm- I'm sorry love, it's just- I don't know what to do and I'm scared that I'll do something wrong or that it won't feel good to you. I know it seems like I don't want it, but I really do. I really want you. I just don't want to disappoint you."- he rambles, fidgeting with his hands.

"Lixie, you could never disappoint me. I don't know what I'm doing either but we can learn together."- you try to reassure him, placing your hand on his.

"I wish we had some help."- he says and you chuckle as his ears become red. "I- I didn't mean it like that. Maybe we could- um... watch some porn together?"- he asks quietly and you giggle, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

"You're really cute, you know that?"- you ask, kissing his nose and he laughs. "We can try that."

And you tried it but Felix got even more embarassed when you found a video to watch, covering his growing erection with a pillow and avoiding your gaze.

The arousal you felt was once again replaced by the frustration, the only reason you were so patient with him is because you really cared for him and didn't want to do anything that would make him feel uncomfortable or unsafe with you.

But then, a little light bulb turned on above your head as you accidentally came across a threesome video, and the knowledge of Felix being the type of person to learn things best when they're hands on, you decided to ask him what if you actually had someone there to help you?

And Felix admitted he had the same exact thought before, but was afraid to suggest it in case you thought it was gross.

Both of you laughed at your predicament and together you brainstormed on how to approach this and who to ask for help.

Your best option was Chris, your mutual friend who both of you always went to for advice and comfort. You trusted him completely and you knew he had experience and could help you out without judging you.

He was surprised at your proposition but he wasn't opposed to it, Chris just needed some time to process what you were suggesting to him.

And when he accepted, the three of you sat down and discussed your boundaries, and came to the conclusion that it's best to start out with something vanilla. You were both kinda excited to see how this would go, but neither of you knew just how much you would get.

-

That Saturday evening, the three of you sit in your room and even though you tried to make the atmosphere as chill as you could with scented candles and dim lights, Felix was still vibrating with nervousness.

You were nervous too, more so excited and Chris chuckled at the both of you, finding you so adorable in that moment.

"Why don't you start with some kissing? Maybe it'll help you relax if you start like you normally do and act like I'm not here."- Chris suggests.

"Okay, sounds good."- you nod, cupping your boyfriend's face and pressing your lips into his. You can feel Felix slightly relax against you and kissing you back gently, one of his arms curling around your waist timidly.

Chris watches the innocent kiss shared between you and something stirs inside him, his eyes narrowing and tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You're just kissing slowly with your lips, no tongue yet and both of you are already getting hot and bothered. Chris observes the way you keep pressing your lips harder into your boyfriend's while he squirms, his hand grabbing at your shirt.

You run your tongue on Felix's bottom lip and he parts his lips, letting you in. The wet sounds of your tongues dancing together make Chris grow in his pants.

He doesn't want to just watch anymore, he wants to taste the both of you. You part for air and notice that Chris is now sitting closer to you, your heart skips a beat in anticipation.

His big hand rests on your cheek, and you can hear Felix breathing hard next to you. Your big eyes stare up at Chris as he leans in and captures your lips in his.

He's different than Felix, more dominant and sure of himself and you melt into him, letting him take control. The different dynamic makes arousal drip on your panties as your hands come up to grab at Chris's biceps.

Chris bites on your lip a little and you gasp, opening your mouth for him to push his tongue in. The way he swirls it around yours has you dizzy and you hold onto him, pressing your thighs together and moaning into his mouth.

Felix should be jelaous that another man is making you feel like that when he never did, but all he feels is arousal as his cock strains and twitches in his pants. He wants to touch himself so badly, but he's still embarassed and doesn't want to seem too eager.

When the two of you part, Chris turns to Felix who looks up at him with glassy innocent eyes and Chris smirks.

"You want some too?"- he asks and Felix nods fervently making you giggle at his cuteness.

Your boyfriend's face is flushed, the redness spreading to his neck as Chris cradles his head and starts kissing him. You notice the way Felix jolts and kisses back sloppily as Chris presses his lips into his roughly. Felix whimpers and Chris pushes his tongue in, tasting your boyfriend and making his eyes roll back.

The way Chris is leaning over your boyfriend, his head thrown back as he grabs at your friend's shirt make you feel extremely hot and your hand wanders between your legs as you gently press on your clit.

Your fingers move in circles as your eyes get hazy looking at the sight before you. Chris leans away from Felix who looks absolutely disheveled, his hair messy, eyelids droopy and a dribble of drool sliding from the corner of his lips.

"Baby, are you feeling neglected?"- Chris chuckles, beckoning you to come closer and you crawl closer to them, joining them in a kiss.

It's a mess of tongue, teeth and moans as the three of you kiss and touch each other.

"So, you never went any further than this?"- Chris asks.

"Well, after neck kisses is usually when we stop."- you say, and Felix looks down at his lap, feeling embarassed. You gently place your hand on his and squeeze and he looks up at you, giving you a sweet smile.

"Okay, show me."- Chris smirks and you lean in closer to Felix. He throws his head back as soon as your lips touch him, eyes shut tight as you leave wet kisses on his soft skin. Chris decides to join in and he kneels behind Felix, moving his hair out of the way as he starts kissing the back of his neck.

"Ah!"- Felix whimpers, his hands instantly grabbing at yours, it's too much stimulation for him already. Both of you are giving him all the attention right now as you place his hands on your waist, crawling even closer to him where you're almost sitting in his lap. Your hands are roaming on his chest and abs, and Chris places his hands on Felix's hips, pressing himself closer to your boyfriend, his teeth nipping at his sensitive skin.

Felix mewls between you, his head resting on Chris's shoulder as you sink your teeth in and start sucking on his skin, your hand sliding under his shirt, fingertips brushing at him.

"Mm- too much..."- Felix whines as Chris licks a stripe on his neck, then leaves little bites, his big hands gripping at Felix's thighs.

You lean back and look at your boyfriend and Chris smirks behind him.

"Why don't we give your beautiful girlfriend the same treatment?"- Chris asks lowly and you shiver, biting on your lip. Felix nods in a daze and you get comfortable as he leans in. His lips are gentle on your skin and he leaves sweet little kisses as Chris joins him, kissing the other side of your neck a bit more strongly.

The difference between their kisses and the stimulation you're receiving make you hot again and Chris notices you squirming around. His hand gently comes up to cup your breast, before he leans back and looks at Felix. Your boyfriend nips at your skin, like he's afraid to bite into it harder but you don't mind in this moment, you're already so turned on that even the smallest touch makes you crumble.

"Have you ever touched her breasts?"- Chris asks Felix and you feel your face burning as he gently squeezes you.

"N-no."- Felix whimpers, looking at Chris's hand.

"Do you want to?"- he smirks.

"Yes, yes, I want to!"- Felix nods fast and Chris takes his hand, placing it on your breast. You moan a little as Felix gasps and squeezes you.

"You can do it like this."- Chris says as he grabs your other boob, massaging it and running his thumb on your nipple that's now becoming perky and visible under your shirt since you didn't wear a bra.

Felix looks at Chris's hand like he's mesmerized and he repeats everything exactly as Chris is showing him.

You moan, arching into their touch, becoming desperate for more friction and more action.

"Do you play with your boobs when you touch yourself, y/n?"- Chris asks, leaving little kisses on your jaw.

"Y-yes."- you whimper.

"Show us."- Chris leans back, and Felix follows him.

You oblige, taking your shirt off and tossing it aside. Felix practically drools at the sight of your breasts and you don't waste any time as you start playing with your nipples, running your fingers on them and pinching them.

Chris can see how desperate Felix is to touch them, his eyes bulging out of his skull as he traces every movement you make with your fingers.

You moan quietly, eyes closed as you get into it.

"P-please..."- Felix says suddenly and you open your eyes.

"What do you want, baby?"- you ask.

"Your- your- i wanna touch-" - Felix mutters, clearly still embarassed.

Chris chuckles on the side, his hand coming up to touch Felix's cheek.

"Tell her what you want, Lix. Use your words."- Chris commands him and your boyfriend whimpers.

"Your titties- I want them in my mouth."- Felix whines, his eyes glassy and you smirk, arching towards him.

"Come here, baby."- you say and Chris presses the back of his head, gently pushing him towards your breast. Felix eagerly wraps his lips around your nipple and starts sucking.

"Mm."- you moan, staring at him as he looks up at you sweetly. Chris is getting incredibly hard in his pants and he accidentally grips Felix's hair.

Felix moans around you, sucking more harshly as his cock twitches in his pants.

"You like this, Lix?"- Chris asks curiously, pulling on your boyfriend's hair again.

He whimpers around you again, hands now gripping at your thighs as he trembles.

"I-I didn't know you liked it rough, Lixie."- you smirk at your boyfriend.

Felix closes his eyes, the attention is on him again and Chris can sense that he's getting embarassed again so he turns back to you, his hand on your other breast as he starts playing with it.

"You can use your tongue Lix, like this."- Chris leans in and starts flicking your nipple with his tongue. You mewl, gripping at the blanket under you and Felix follows suit, flicking his tongue just like Chris.

You almost fall apart at the double stimulation, more arousal gushing on your panties and you just want to be fucked, even if it's just fingers, you need someone to touch your dripping cunt.

You reach your hand towards Felix, tugging at his shirt and he leans back.

"Take it off."- you say and Felix becomes more red as he slowly takes off his shirt.

You've seen him shirtless already but in this moment of arousal it's like you're seeing him for the first time ever and the sight makes you drool.

"What about you?"- you ask Chris and he smirks.

"How about we all strip completely? I can see you're both so desperate to be touched."- he says and you nod, getting to it immediately.

"I- Can I stay in my boxers just for a little while more?"- Felix asks timidly.

"Sure."- you say and the three of you strip, Felix still in his boxers and his eyes are glued to your glistening cunt.

On the other hand, you gasp as Chris takes off his underwear, his cock springing out for the two of you to see.

"Oh... it's so big."- Felix gulps, almost mesmerized and Chris chuckles deeply.

"Yeah? Like what you see?"- he asks your boyfriend and you giggle, your hand on Felix's thigh, gently grabbing it and massaging it.

"I mean- yeah..."- Felix nods, looking at his lap again.

"Are you still feeling shy, baby?"- you ask.

"I'm sorry, it's just... I'm not as big as Chris."- he says quietly.

"That really doesn't matter, darling."- you say sincerely, your hands lifting up to cradle his face, making him look at you.

"Yeah, don't worry about it, Lix. This is a safe space, okay?"- Chris says and your boyfriend nods before taking a deep breath in as he hooks his fingers in his boxers.

He slides them down and his cock springs out, the tip pink and glistening with precum, it's smaller than Chris's but chubby and you instantly find yourself yearning to touch him.

"So pretty."- you say and Felix chuckles quietly.

"You think my dick is pretty?"- he asks.

"Very."- you nod and he laughs again, his cheeks becoming profusely red.

"I agree."- Chris comes closer to Felix, his hand resting on his thigh as he squeezes it and slowly slides it up. You can see his cock twitch the closer Chris gets to it.

"Is it okay if I touch you?"- he asks and Felix looks at you.

"If it's okay, I'd like y/n to touch me first."- Felix says timidly and Chris nods understandingly.

"Ofcourse, I'm just here to help out."- he smiles sweetly and you gulp, your hand lifting up as you scoot closer to your boyfriend.

You've never touched a dick before but you weren't scared, you were just nervous, wanting to make your boyfriend feel good. Your fingers wrap around him and Felix falls apart immediately.

Chris kneels behind him, his hands around Felix, fingertips brushing his skin as he tries to help him relax.

You slowly start moving your hand, only ever seeing how to do it in porn videos and you have no idea if you're doing it right but your boyfriend seems to be enjoying. He's arching into your touch, his head resting on Chris's shoulder again, eyes shut tight as sweet moans leave his lips.

Chris's hands come up to his nipples and he starts pinching them which makes Felix moan louder, his hips fucking his cock into your hand.

You're in awe at seeing your boyfriend a mumbling mess like this and his cock looks inviting to you, you want to taste him but you don't want to rush too much in case Felix gets embarassed again.

Chris notices the way you stare at Felix's cock hungrily and he smirks, his hands sliding down and grabbing a handful of Felix's ass.

"Oh my-"- your boyfriend whimpers, hips jerking forwards.

You're beyond turned on and you lean down.

"I wanna taste you, Lixie."- you say.

"Mm, yes please... Please..."- Felix whines and gasps as he looks down at you, desperation evident in his voice.

You lean in close, your tongue darting out experimentally to lick at his tip, licking off the salty precum. You would be embarassed to admit this but you researched how to give good head because you wanted to give your boyfriend the best blowjob you could.

You wrap your lips around him and start sucking as Felix mewls and grabs at your shoulders.

"Wow, babygirl knows what she's doing."- Chris smirks behind Felix and you smirk back at him with your mouth full of your boyfriends cock.

Chris finds you so pretty like that as you keep taking more of Felix's cock in your mouth and he needs some friction, so he presses his dick on your boyfriend's asscheek, one of his hands tangling in his hair and pulling his head back.

"Fuck-" - Felix jolts, accidentally pushing his hips into your face a little and making you gag from the sudden movement.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry love!"- he apologizes instantly.

"Lixie, it's okay, I don't mind."- you slide off of him to reassure him that he did nothing wrong.

"Relax, baby."- Chris whispers into Felix's ear, gripping his hair and kissing his neck as you take him in your mouth again.

Felix keeps whimpering and mumbling both of your names, falling apart between the two of you. Chris gently ruts against your boyfriend as you almost swallow him whole, quickly adjusting your mouth to his length and girth. You speed up, wetting his cock with your spit as Chris sucks a love bite into his skin.

"So much..."- Felix whines.

"Is it too much babyboy?"- Chris asks.

"Mhm."- Felix mutters.

"You love being sandwiched like this, don't you?"

"Yes, yes I do!"- Felix whines as Chris's hand curls around him to play with his balls. He jolts again and you take it sucking on him harder and Felix looks down at you and almost busts right then and there.

The sight of his sweet, beautiful girlfriend in a position like that with mouth full of his cock drives him insane.

"P-please... I'm close, I can't hold it in."- Felix whimpers, his hand gentle on your head as he tries to make you stop.

You moan around him as you keep going, your hands gripping at his thighs and Chris starts pinching Felix's nipples fast and hard and Felix can't hold himself together anymore. His moans get louder and louder, his hips timidly fucking into you, afraid that if he goes faster he might hurt you.

"Let go, baby."- Chris coos at him as he keeps playing with him and Felix shakes as his cock twitches, his cum shooting into your mouth and you swallow everything he gives you, savoring his taste and milking him dry as he whimpers, eyes teary and face red.

"Good boy."- Chris smirks and Felix shivers as you finally release him and sit back, licking your lips.

"Both of you did so well. How about you return the favor, Lix?"- Chris asks and you bite your lip.

"I want to!"- Felix nods eagerly.

"Lay down, sweetheart."- Chris coos at you, seeing how turned on you are from everything, aching to be touched, your eyes glassy and desperate.

You oblige, your legs falling open immediately and Felix moans just at the sight of your sweet cunt.

"Mm, please, wanna taste."- he whines as he leans in closer. "But I don't know what to do."- he adds, embarassed again.

"Do what feels natural to you. Kiss, lick, suck. I'll be here to guide you if you need it."- Chris tells him. "And y/n will tell you what she likes, right?"- he looks at you and you nod, anticipation making goosebumps rise on your skin.

Felix leans in, he's not that clueless, he knows what a clit is and how good it feels to touch, well at least from what he saw in porn so he tries, his tongue giving you little kitten licks.

Your legs jolt as he presses it into your clit and watches your reaction.

Chris lays on his side next to you, his hand running on your inner thigh as he leans in and kisses your collarbone and breast.

Felix is getting drunk on the taste of you, how you're getting more wet just from his tongue playing with your clit and he gently pulls open your folds before he pushes his tongue in, his eyes rolling back at the feeling. He loved you on your knees and sucking him in but he knows he loves this even more. Being between your legs, his tongue buried inside you as you look down at him, your body shivering, pretty moans coming out of your lips.

Chris's hand is on your breast, kneading and playing with your nipple, his other hand in Felix's hair as he pushes his head into you.

Felix moans into your cunt as Chris holds him down and your legs shake as Felix fucks you desperately with his tongue, lapping at you like your pussy is the tastiest treat he ever had.

You moan loudly, losing yourself in the pleasure, already close to the edge as your hands grip at the blanket below you.

Felix ruts his semi hard cock on the sheets below almost unconsciously and Chris thinks he looks so cute when he's desperate like that.

Chris leans in and starts sucking on your breast, his hand playing with the other one, his focus now on you, wanting to help bring you closer to your sweet release.

You're shaking under them, the stimulation is so much stronger than when you played with yourself and you can't take anymore, fireworks exploding inside you before you cum, your sweet juices covering Felix's tongue and lips.

He whines and laps at you, savoring your taste as his eyes close.

"Did so well, baby."- Chris praises you and leans in to kiss you as your boyfriend still makes out with your wet pussy. You're sensitive and your legs close around Felix's head making him groan into you.

"T-too much."- you whimper and Felix leans back, the look on his face completely fucked out as he stares at you. You know you probably look the same, your legs still slightly shivering from your orgasm.

Both you and Chris can see that Felix is fully hard again, but you turn to Chris, your hand finding his.

"Can we do something for you before we go further?"- you ask and Felix nods.

"Yeah, we wanna make you feel good too."- he licks his lips.

"Don't worry about me. This is about the two of you."- Chris waves his hand but you can see that he's painfully hard.

You sit up and push him down so his back leans on the headboard of the bed.

"Let us make you feel good."- you say, hands on his thighs as you lean down and start kissing his cock.

Chris grunts lowly at your cute innocent face as you wrap your lips around the head. Felix comes up next to you and Chris spreads his legs more to give you both more space. Felix gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail, helping you as you slowly take more of Chris in your mouth, his cock too big for you but you're determined to try your best.

It's the least you can do when he indulged the two of you and accepted to help you in an intimate situation like this. You bob your head up and down, your hand working the rest of his cock and Felix watches closely as he holds your hair, drooling at the thought of tasting Chris's cock after you've sucked on it.

"Please, let me."- he begs and Chris chuckles at his eagerness as you pop off of him.

Felix wastes no time, engulfing him as much as he could, making himself gag immediately.

"Slow down, baby."- you chuckle and Felix whines around Chris, the vibrations making him shiver.

Tears gather in his eyes as Felix sucks on Chris fast, taking more and more in, his spit mixed with yours making everything slippery.

You don't think you've ever seen anything as hot as your pretty innocent boyfriend doing such dirty things, his eyes rolling back every time Chris's cock hits the back of his throat.

"Fuck- I won't last long!"- Chris moans, his thighs flexing under Felix's hands.

You're the one holding your boyfriend's hair now and a wicked thought runs through your mind as Chris's hips jerk up. You grip Felix's hair and push him down more making him gag and squirm as Chris explodes with a loud moan, shooting his cum into your boyfriend's mouth.

Felix gags but swallows as he has no choice but to do that, you're still holding him down and you notice how he ruts into the bed, obviously turned on by your ministrations.

You let him lift off only when he's done milking Chris's cock and then you grab his face making him gasp as you crash your lips into his.

Chris breathes hard, watching the two of you make out messily, the taste of him pouring into your mouth from Felix's lips.

"Lixie, I want you."- you mumble against his lips, your hand wrapping around his cock.

"Mm, I want you too love."- he moans.

He looks at Chris who's coming to his senses and Chris chuckles.

"W-will you help me out a little?"- your boyfriend asks timidly and you giggle as Chris nods and sits up.

You lay down against the pillows, your hands on the back of your thighs as you lift up and open your legs so your cunt is on full display.

Felix groans watching it clench around nothing.

"She feels empty, don't you baby?"- Chris asks and you nod fervently. His finger is on your clit as he slowly circles it and you moan pushing up into him.

"You have to prep her first."- he tells Felix and he nods, his fingertips on your folds as Chris keeps massaging your clit.

"P-please..."- you whine and Felix sinks two of his fingers slowly inside you, careful to be gentle as he grabs your breast and massages it.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head as the two men play with your pussy, Felix pushing in as deep as he can and moving slowly as Chris helps guide his wrist while he plays with your clit, flicking it and pinching it.

You're moaning loudly, letting go of everything as your slick drips down onto their hands and the sheets beneath you, making a mess. You've never been this wet or turned on and you start moving your hips up into their touch and Felix speeds up, fucking your pussy open for his cock.

"Oh my god, ah!"- you practically scream as you explode, squirting on their hands as Felix pulls his fingers out and gasps.

"Oh..."- you chuckle embarassingly at the sight, trying to catch your breath.

"That was so hot."- Felix whines, licking off his fingers. Before you or Chris can react he grabs Chris's wrist and puts his lips around two of his fingers, sucking on them and looking at Chris hazily.

"Lix loves his mouth stuffed, hm?"- Chris smirks as you lift up on your elbows and look at them.

Felix moans around his fingers before he pops off, tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

He turns to you and Chris kneels behind him as you grab your boyfriend's hands and bring him closer to you.

"Fuck me, Lixie, please! I can't wait anymore!"- you whimper.

Felix groans as Chris gently pushes him closer to you. He reaches around your boyfriend's body and gently grabs his cock. Felix mewls as he melts between both of you and Chris pushes him down, massaging your wet pussy with Felix's cock.

"Mm feels so good..."- he whines and Chris smirks, his cock is getting hard again and he can't help himself as it slides between Felix's asscheeks.

Felix gasps and almost jolts away but Chris holds him.

"It's okay, I won't do anything you don't want, Lix."- Chris reassures him and Felix nods.

"Is this okay?"- he asks as his cock slides against him.

"Mmm it's good, so good!"- Felix whines as his tip catches on your folds.

"Put it in, Lixie, give me your cock!"- you whine, impatient and craving to be stuffed full of your boyfriend's cute chubby cock.

He moans and slowly pushes in, Chris holding his hips and rutting into him slowly.

You groan at the stretch, your little cunt opening up to take him fully. Felix lets out a deep growl as he bottoms out, hands gripping at your body. Your hands end up around his shoulders and you look into his eyes.

"Move, baby."- you moan and Felix starts fucking you slowly to let you adjust, Chris following his pace and rutting into his ass.

You fall into a rhythm, the three of you rocking together, moaning and praising each other, hands grabbing everywhere.

"Feels good babygirl?"- Chris asks you and you moan in response.

"See, she's going a little dumb on your cock, Lix."- Chris smirks.

"Mm fuck..."- Felix whines. "So warm and tight."- he keeps whimpering as he pushes his cock into you as deep as he can.

Chris is close as he rubs against Felix, his hand coming around to play with your clit once again as Felix fucks into you harder. You see stars as your eyes shut tightly, head falling back.

Felix is a mumbling mess, hips jerking harshly as he drools and Chris speeds up, jerking his cock so his head is massaging Felix's hole.

"Ah, ah, ah!"- Felix moans constantly, stimulated on both ends and Chris chuckles darkly, his head pushing against his tight hole, teasing his entrance.

"You want me to stretch your tight ass while you fuck your girlfriend's sweet pussy, hm?"- Chris growls into his ear as he pulls his head back harshly.

"Mm, fuck yes, daddy!"- Felix whimpers loudly and then freezes when he realizes what he said. Your eyes snap open and Felix panicks.

"I'm sorry, I-I don't know why I said that."- his lips tremble, eyes watering.

"Hey, hey, don't cry."- Chris soothes him. "You can call me whatever you want, it's completely fine and I don't mind."

Felix looks at you and you bite on your lip, your eyes hazy as you were close to your release.

"It was hot, love. I don't mind either."- you say and Felix melts, hips moving slowly into yours again.

It doesn't take long for the three of you to get back into your rhythm and your orgasm builds up once more, as does Chris's. You cum first, exploding all over Felix's cock, clenching around him as Chris spills his seed on your boyfriend's ass and the back of his thighs. Your pussy holding onto his cock and Chris's cum painting him makes him lose his mind and he pulls out, jerking his cock and exploding all over your stomach and pulsating cunt.

The three of you have to take a few moments to calm down and clean up, Chris helping you change the sheets you made a mess off.

As you and Felix get ready to cuddle up, you notice Chris picking up his clothes.

"Where are you going?"- you ask, lifting your head up.

"Well, I helped you out. I mean, I don't want to overstay my welcome. I'm sure the two of you would like some time alone now."- he says, scratching the back of his neck shyly, his demeanor completely different than moments before.

"Stay with us."- Felix says, and Chris's eyes soften.

"Yeah, come here."- you beckon him with your finger and he chuckles, coming closer to the bed and getting comfortable behind Felix, who was curled up in you, his arm and leg wrapped around you.

You press a gentle kiss on your boyfriend's forehead as he mumbles, already half asleep.

"I love you both..."- he mutters into your neck.

You and Chris lock eyes and smile at each other.

"We love you too."

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @bookobsessedfreak

[ifnotlovepersevering]

Spared (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Summary: Agatha can’t resist herself when you ask her to take you to the Road

Warnings: NSFW, naive!reader, deceptive!agatha, mentions of alcohol, thigh riding (R), oral sex (both receiving), fingering, pet names, minors DNI

A/N: quick and dirty fic i wrote in like a day, inspired by a suggestion from @agathas-wife !

NSFW Tag List: @evilangels-stuff @riobutnotthebirb @academiagaymess @musicalmemesandstuff @shinkomiii @vintagegoddess12 @agnessharknes @jesterofrohan @agathaharknessslut @nickalpatel @junaika21

GIF Credit: @hauntinglesbian

As soon as she laid eyes on you, Agatha knew she had to have you.

You, with your alluring eyes, standing out from the rest of the crowd. You, that’d came to find her after the show. You, who all but begged her to take you to the Witches’ Road that she sang about onstage.

You wanted to go on the Road to recover a destroyed family spell book, you’d explained. You weren’t unique in this request, of course. For years Agatha had been luring in witches with the promise of a journey on the Road to receive what they most desire. The witch had collected a fair share of bodies through this scheme of hers.

But she had no wish to drain you of your powers like she did everyone else. A pretty thing like you didn’t deserve that fate, she was sure. As Agatha led you and the makeshift coven out into a field, she leaned in close to you. “Don’t do what they do.” She whispered quickly, before resuming her position at the front of the group. You looked at her, confused, but her face told you not to ask questions.

Agatha began the speech she’d recited many times before. She smiled at the admiration across your face, your girlish wonder exciting her. You couldn’t help it, you found her captivating. She was still wearing her stage getup, and the leather outfit combined with her tousled hair meant she had your undivided attention.

All of you listened intently before singing the song you all knew by heart. But at the end, no door emerged. You could feel the crush of disappointment and you saw Agatha’s mouth twist into a scowl. “Never have I met such a useless coven of witches.”

Her clear disdain stung, and you could tell the other witches were getting upset. “Come on,” Agatha growled. “Did you learn your craft from the Bible?”

Hands began glowing as the other witches’ anger rose from her jibes. Agatha caught your eye and shook her head almost imperceptibly, and you held off on bringing forth your own magic.

Colourful beams of energy began hitting Agatha, but the witch seemed to be undisturbed. The intensity of the magic hitting her increased, and she stretched out her arms as if she was taking it in. You hardly registered what was happening before the rest of the witches slumped to the ground, their lifeless husks at your feet.

You gasped in horror, looking down at the once-alive witches. “How did that- Did you-?”

Agatha feigned her own disappointment as she closed the gap between the two of you. “It’s so unfortunate but this happens sometimes.” She sighed, shaking her head. “The Road can be fickle, and witches aren’t patient creatures. I’ve had to learn to be defensive, Y/N.”

Agatha eyed you, trying to gauge your reaction, as your expression morphed from fear to sadness. Seeing you like this only fuelled her desire, and she smirked to herself as she wrapped an arm around you.

“Why don’t we get away from this, hm?” She asked. You nodded, and with a wave of her hand you two were in what you figured was her trailer.

Agatha motioned for you to sit on the couch as she poured a glass of liquor for the both of you. You accepted gratefully before downing it, wincing slightly at the burn.

“I’m sorry about earlier, doll. I’m trying to improve the ability to conjure the Road…but until then, it’s what I have to do.” Agatha studied your face, her gaze catching on the pout of your lips.

You grabbed her hand in yours and gave it a squeeze. “That must be so difficult.”

“Yes,” Agatha put on a frown. “So difficult.” Ever the actress, she willed her eyes to brim with tears.

“Oh, Agatha,” your expression was plain sympathy, and it took everything in Agatha to not cackle at how easy this was. “I’m so sorry.” You leaned in to give the older witch a hug. Agatha could feel desire coiling within her as she wrapped her arms around you, breathing in your scent.

As you pulled away from the hug, Agatha brought a hand up to brush hair away from your face. Her fingers came to rest on your chin lightly, forcing you to hold her intense gaze. “Don’t be sorry, pretty girl.”

Slowly, she brought her mouth to yours and you found yourself sinking into the kiss. Agatha’s lips were hungry, dominating, and you moaned when her tongue slipped into your mouth.

Agatha pulled away suddenly, and she revelled in how you leaned in, chasing the feeling of her lips. She stood up and sauntered over to the bed at the other end of the trailer, dropping the leather jacket she was wearing to the floor. She continued stripping her clothes as she climbed onto the bed. Settling herself between the pillows, she looked at you expectantly. “Coming, doll?”

You felt your breathing quicken as you made your way over to her naked form, illuminated softly by the lights on her vanity. Before you could get on the bed, Agatha stopped you. “Ah, ah,” she tutted, motioning with her hand for you to take off your clothes.

Heat rose in your cheeks as you began stripping your clothes off for her. You could see Agatha watching intently, lips parted, as you pulled your panties down your legs before unclasping your bra.

Agatha hummed in approval as you crawled towards her before straddling her lap. Her mouth met yours again, hungrily, and both of your moans filled the small space. She maneuvered under you so that you were straddling one of her legs now, and you groaned at the pressure against your bare pussy.

“Oh,” Agatha smirked as you began grinding down onto her thigh, your slick slowly dripping out of you. “Feels good doesn’t it bunny?”

Biting your lip, you nodded furiously. “Use your words.” Agatha said, grabbing your chin to force your mouth open.

“Yes,” you cried out. “Feels so good.”

Agatha began trailing wet kisses along your jaw. You felt her lick a stripe along your neck with her tongue before she made her way to your tits. Eagerly, she sucked and nibbled at your nipple, using her hand to pinch the other. Agatha looked up at you and could tell you were close. “Come for me, baby. Come on my thigh.”

You groaned as waves of pleasure rocked through you, and you brought your mouth back down to Agatha’s. The older witch moaned, and her hands gripped your waist as she guided you so that you were under her now.

Agatha began trailing kisses down your stomach, her tongue lazily drawing circles as she made her way to your center. Between your thighs, she nearly drooled at the sight of your glistening folds. She traced a finger along them, brushing your clit gently, laughing when you hissed. “Mm, don’t say you’re too sensitive for me now, bunny.”

Unable to hold herself back any longer, Agatha buried her face between your legs. Her tongue ran through your folds, collecting your juices. She hummed as she savoured the taste, your taste, before she slid two fingers into you and began pumping them in and out. “Fuck,” you groaned, the added sensation fuelling the pleasure building inside you.

Agatha marvelled at how your walls squeezed around her digits. Your moans were getting louder, and she wrapped her free arm over your hips, which were beginning to buck up against her. Her tongue swirled over and around your clit, and she picked up a pattern of sucking it into her mouth and releasing.

“Agatha,” you moaned. The older witch’s piercing gaze held yours as you came undone, your back arching off the bed. Agatha’s grip was strong and she held you in place while you rode out the waves of pleasure, her mouth not leaving your center.

As you came down from your high, Agatha moved up from between your legs. But before she could bask in the satisfaction of making you come again, you were straddling her.

“Up for round three already, pretty girl?” Agatha grinned from underneath you. You answered by meeting her mouth with yours, savouring the flavour of your juices. “I need to taste you,” you mumbled against her lips.

You helped her move onto her stomach so that her back was now to you. Agatha moaned softly as you trailed your tongue down her neck sloppily, your lips leaving marks behind. Your hand snaked its way down over her ass to her center, where you rubbed a finger through her folds before pushing it in.

Agatha grunted underneath you at the feeling of your fingers filling her aching hole. Her hands gripped the sheets as you slowly moved your fingers in and out. Your mouth continued its ministrations on the sensitive skin of her neck before nibbling at her ear lobe.

“Oh,” Agatha groaned as you quickened the pace of your fingers. You could feel her slick gathering on your hand as the sound of your fingers pumping into her filled the room. “God, yes, baby.”

You felt her walls clench around you as she came, but you were relentless. Before she could relax you were between her legs, arms under her hips to prop her onto all fours.

“F-fuck,” Agatha groaned when your tongue made contact with her folds. You slurped up her juices, probing her opening with your tongue before flicking her clit. Agatha’s face was pushed into the pillows, her back arched, as you circled her clit before sucking it into your mouth.

You felt her hand reach back and grip your hair, shoving your face deeper into her pussy. “Right there, don’t stop- agh, good, good girl.” Agatha cried out as her orgasm shook through her body.

Both of you panting, you collapsed next to her on the pillows. Agatha clasped your face, bringing you in for a deep kiss, her tongue gathering the remnants of her juices from your lips.

“Maybe I could help you,” you mumbled softly.

Agatha smirked. “Oh you’ve helped me plenty, doll.”

“No,” you giggled. “With the Road. I could try and help you in conjuring it.”

“Oh,” Agatha’s eyebrows raised. She’d nearly forgotten about that whole thing. “Yes, you’d be a huge help.” She grinned.

Was it wrong to lie to you? Maybe. But Agatha would be damned if she let morals get in the way of keeping you by her side.

[airosuiren]

The Abandoned Wayne.

Bat Family x Neglected Reader x Tokyo Revengers

A/N: Omg I had this idea stuck in my head for AGES!!! Batfam neglect trope combined with Tokyo Revengers is literally my new obsession!!! Hope you enjoyyy this twisted tale of neglect, revenge, and finding your true family!!! (this DOES NOT follow cannon)

Part 2

Wayne Manor had two daughters, but only one that mattered.

You and Lila Wayne - twins born to Bruce Wayne through a brief relationship with a woman who disappeared shortly after your birth. Identical in appearance but worlds apart in treatment.

From the moment Bruce took you both in, it was clear who the favorite was.

Lila got the bigger bedroom. Lila got the newest clothes. Lila got Bruce’s proud smiles whenever she mastered a new gymnastics routine or brought home perfect grades. Lila was “the good twin” - the perfect Wayne daughter who fit seamlessly into Gotham’s elite circles.

You? You were the afterthought.

“Dad, I got an A+ on my science project,” you said, holding up your graded paper at age twelve.

Bruce barely looked up from where he was helping Lila with her homework. “That’s nice. Did you see Lila made the honor roll again? Third time this year.”

You lowered your paper slowly, the familiar ache spreading through your chest. “Yeah. Great job, Lila.”

Your sister smirked at you over Bruce’s shoulder, her eyes glittering with smug satisfaction.

It wasn’t just Bruce. Dick treated Lila like a princess, always bringing her souvenirs from his travels. Jason taught her self-defense but claimed you were “too clumsy” to learn. Tim shared his tech knowledge exclusively with Lila. Even Damian, though generally unpleasant to everyone, reserved his rare moments of tolerance for her.

Only Alfred seemed to notice you, slipping you extra cookies when no one was looking or patting your shoulder when you retreated to your room after another family gathering where no one acknowledged your presence.

“Patience, Miss [Y/N],” he would say. “Family can be… complicated.”

But your patience was running out.

By fifteen, you had stopped trying to earn their attention. You found solace in martial arts, training secretly at a local dojo where no one knew you were a Wayne. The feel of your fist connecting with a punching bag became your therapy, each strike fueled by years of being overlooked.

Then came the night that changed everything.

You returned from training to find the manor in chaos. Lila was sobbing in Bruce’s arms, her perfect face marred by a nasty bruise on her cheekbone. The entire family surrounded her protectively.

“What happened?” you asked, dropping your gym bag.

Six pairs of eyes turned to you, cold and accusing.

“As if you don’t know,” Lila hissed through tears.

Bruce stood slowly, his face transforming into something you’d only seen directed at Gotham’s criminals. “Lila says you attacked her when she confronted you about stealing her homework.”

Your blood ran cold. “What? I didn’t touch her! I’ve been at the dojo for the past three hours!”

“We found your hairbrush in her room,” Tim said, holding up an evidence bag like this was a crime scene. “And the bruise pattern matches your distinctive ring.”

You looked down at the simple silver band you always wore - a gift from Alfred on your twelfth birthday. The only birthday gift anyone in the manor had given you.

“This is ridiculous,” you protested. “I would never hurt Lila!”

But as you looked around at their faces - Bruce’s fury, Dick’s disappointment, Jason’s disgust, Tim’s clinical detachment, Damian’s contempt, and Lila’s exaggerated fear - you realized with crystal clarity: They had already decided you were guilty.

No trial. No defense. No presumption of innocence.

Even Alfred looked uncertain, standing back from the family circle, his eyes troubled.

“I’ve made a decision,” Bruce announced, his voice Batman-cold. “This behavior cannot continue. You’ve been acting out for years, but this crosses a line.”

“But I didn’t—”

“Enough!” Bruce cut you off. “I’m sending you to our associates in Tokyo. The Moriyama family owes me a favor. They’ll take you in, get you into a good school, and hopefully… straighten you out.”

Your world collapsed around you. “You’re sending me away? To Japan? Because of a lie?”

“It’s not a lie!” Lila wailed, burying her face against Dick’s chest. “She threatened to do worse next time!”

“Pack your things,” Bruce said flatly. “You leave tomorrow.”

That night, alone in your room, you didn’t cry. The hurt had crystallized into something harder, colder. More dangerous.

In the darkness, you made a vow: You would never beg for their love again. You would never again call Wayne Manor home. And someday, they would realize exactly what they had thrown away.

Alfred came to your door as you finished packing.

“Miss [Y/N],” he began, his elderly face lined with regret. “I don’t believe… that is to say, I find it difficult to imagine you would harm your sister.”

It was the closest thing to support you’d received, but it came too late.

“It doesn’t matter what you believe, Alfred,” you said quietly. “It never has.”

The flight to Tokyo was long and silent. Bruce didn’t accompany you - he sent his corporate assistant instead. Your final glimpse of Gotham through the plane window felt like watching a chapter of your life being forcibly closed.

The Moriyama family was polite but distant. They provided you with a small but comfortable apartment, enrolled you in a prestigious international school, and otherwise left you entirely alone.

Freedom, you discovered, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

For the first two months, you focused on school and perfecting your Japanese. You kept to yourself, the wound of your family’s betrayal still too fresh to risk new connections.

Then came the night you took a wrong turn walking home.

Three men cornered you in an alley - local thugs looking for an easy target. What they found instead was a Wayne with years of repressed rage and six months of intensive martial arts training.

When the dust settled, two were unconscious and the third was running away with a broken nose.

You were catching your breath, knuckles bloody, when you heard slow, appreciative clapping.

A tall, lean Japanese boy with bleached blond hair and an unsettling empty look in his eyes stood at the alley entrance. Despite his slender build, something about him radiated danger.

“Impressive,” he said in Japanese. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

You straightened, wary but unafraid. “Gotham City.”

His smile widened, revealing a charm that didn’t quite reach those empty eyes. “I’m Sano Manjiro. Everyone calls me Mikey.”

“[Y/N],” you replied, deliberately omitting your last name. You weren’t a Wayne anymore, not in any way that mattered.

“You should come with me, [Y/N]-chan,” he said, turning to leave as if your agreement was a foregone conclusion. “I think my friends would like to meet you.”

Something about his absolute confidence, the casual way he had watched you fight without interfering, and yes - the dangerous aura that reminded you of the Bat Family at their most intimidating - made you follow him.

Kanto Manji headquarters turned out to be an abandoned building retrofitted with surprisingly comfortable furnishings. Inside, a group of young men looked up as Mikey entered with you in tow.

“Found something interesting,” Mikey announced, dropping onto a couch. “This is [Y/N]. She just took down three Tenjiku guys without breaking a sweat.”

“American?” asked a tall, serious-looking man with dark hair.

“Gotham,” you corrected.

Something in the way you said it - like the name of the city was a wound - made the room go quiet.

“I’m Sano Takemichi,” the serious one said. “That’s Hakkai, Chifuyu, Mitsuya, and the one eating all the food is Baji.”

Over convenience store bento boxes and cheap beer, you learned about Kanto Manji - a gang formed from the ashes of several others, now one of the most powerful in Tokyo. Their operations walked a fine line between legitimate business and underground empire.

You didn’t share your full story that night, but something in your eyes must have spoken to them. The way you fought. The way you carried yourself. The obvious absence of anyone looking for you or caring where you were.

“You got somewhere to stay?” Baji asked as the night grew late.

“An apartment,” you said. “But no one waiting there.”

Mikey, who had been unnervingly quiet for most of the evening, just watching you with those empty eyes, suddenly spoke: “You should work for us.”

The others looked surprised.

“Mikey,” Takemichi began cautiously, “we don’t even know her—”

“I know enough,” Mikey cut him off. “She fights like someone with nothing to lose. That’s valuable.”

You should have been offended. Instead, you felt a strange relief at being so perfectly understood.

“What would I do?” you asked.

Mikey smiled that disconnected smile again. “You’re from Gotham. Home of criminals and bats. I bet you know how to plan.”

And just like that, you found your place.

The Kanto Manji gang became your new family. Takemichi treated you like a little sister, always checking if you’d eaten or slept enough. Hakkai taught you Japanese street fighting to complement your formal training. Chifuyu, discovering your knack for strategy, spent hours discussing territory maps with you. Mitsuya even designed clothes specifically for you - practical but stylish outfits that became your signature look.

And Mikey… Mikey watched you. At first, it was unsettling - those empty eyes following your movements across rooms, his sudden appearances outside your apartment, his hand casually resting on your shoulder as if marking territory.

“He’s obsessed with you,” Hakkai warned about three months in. “Be careful.”

But the truth was, you didn’t mind. After years of being invisible, Mikey’s focused attention felt like water in a desert. He saw you. Really saw you.

Your tactical mind proved invaluable to the gang. You planned their operations with precision Batman himself might have admired - if he had ever bothered to notice your intelligence.

Within a year, your reputation spread through Tokyo’s underground. The foreign girl with the cold eyes and brilliant mind who stood at Mikey’s right hand. Some called you “The Ghost” because of how you seemed to appear from nowhere, always one step ahead.

Not once did Bruce or any of the Bat Family reach out. Not a call. Not an email. Not even Alfred. It was as if [Y/N] Wayne had ceased to exist the moment her plane left Gotham airspace.

On the night of your eighteenth birthday, Kanto Manji threw you a party that lasted until dawn. For the first time since arriving in Tokyo, you allowed yourself to fully relax, to laugh, to feel genuinely happy.

As the others finally passed out from too much sake, Mikey led you to the roof. The Tokyo skyline glittered before you, so different from Gotham’s gothic spires but beautiful in its own way.

“Happy birthday, [Y/N]-chan,” he said, producing a small black box.

Inside was a delicate silver chain with a pendant shaped like a crescent moon.

“Mikey, it’s beautiful,” you whispered as he fastened it around your neck.

“You’re mine now,” he said simply, his fingers lingering on your skin. “My strategist. My ghost.” His empty eyes seemed to fill with something like hunger. “My everything.”

You should have been frightened by the possessiveness. Instead, you felt a thrill. Someone wanted you. Not your sister. You.

When he kissed you, it felt like claiming and being claimed.

“Yes,” you agreed against his lips. “Yours.”

The next two years passed in a blur of power, respect, and a strange kind of happiness. Kanto Manji grew under your strategic guidance and Mikey’s fearsome leadership. You moved into his apartment, your foreign clothes mingling with his in the closet, your strategic plans spread across his dining table, your body wrapped in his arms each night.

His obsession never faded. If anything, it intensified. Mikey wanted to know where you were every moment. He called randomly just to hear your voice. He left marks on your skin where others could see them.

“It’s not healthy,” Takemichi told you once.

You just smiled. “Nothing about my life has ever been healthy.”

Besides, you thrived on Mikey’s attention. On being the center of someone’s world. On mattering.

You hadn’t spoken the name “Wayne” in three years when the past finally caught up to you.

It started with a text from a number you didn’t recognize:

They’re coming for you. Wayne Industries expanding to Tokyo. Family accompanying Bruce for the opening. Be prepared. - A

Alfred. It could only be Alfred.

You stared at the message for a long time before showing it to Mikey.

His reaction was immediate and intense. “They abandoned you. They don’t get to come back now.”

That night, he called an emergency meeting. The entire gang gathered as Mikey explained the situation.

“Wayne,” Baji spat the name like a curse. “The bastard who threw away our [Y/N]?”

“The same,” Mikey confirmed, his arm possessively around your waist. “They’re coming to Tokyo. Business, they say.”

“But really for [Y/N],” Hakkai finished, his eyes narrowing.

“What do you want to do?” Takemichi asked you directly. “It’s your call.”

You looked around at the faces watching you - these men who had become your brothers, your protectors, your true family. And Mikey, whose empty eyes filled only when looking at you, whose obsession had become your safety net.

“I want them to see exactly what they lost,” you said finally. “And who I’ve become without them.”

The gang nodded in unison.

“Then that’s what will happen,” Mikey declared, pressing a kiss to your temple. “They’ll see our Ghost. And they’ll regret the day they sent her to us.”

A week later, Wayne Enterprises opened its Tokyo branch with a lavish party. You watched from across the street as limousines delivered Gotham’s elite to the red carpet - including five tall, well-dressed men and one woman in a shimmering gown.

The Bat Family had arrived.

And they had no idea what was waiting for them.

A/N: There is a part 2 for thiss Please wait for itttt

[daycourtofficial]

Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one - part 8

Pairing: Eris x Azriel x reader | WC: 5.9k | warnings: discussions of pain? idk

Summary: the aftermath of sleeping with Eris isn’t as confusing as you thought it would be. Things with Azriel are getting better in a way you hadn’t expected, until a discussion with Rhysand opens the two of you up to a new idea that might solve all of your problems

Author’s note: happy @polysjmweek !!! Yall have been feral for this and I’ve been doing my best to get this out. It’s a bit fillery, but we have to set some stuff up!!

Previous part | Masterlist

The afternoon passed in bed with Eris, the scent of Azriel becoming weaker and weaker as the minutes ticked by. Eris had asked you to try to inflict pain, allowing you to touch him without any hesitancy.

It was a strange sensation. You were used to stitching pieces back together (either by hand or by magic). Decades of your life were devoted to learning everything about the varieties of fae - different skeletal structures, the extra musculature of winged fae. Illness, disease, injury - you were a generalist, preferring to be able to treat any ailment you ran into.

But he insisted you try and try again, each attempt at streamlining your magic in the opposite direction going nowhere, leaving you exasperated and slightly embarrassed at failing before the Vanserra. Despite that, it was almost nice being in the cabin with him. He was still Eris, spouting off insults every five minutes. As the afternoon wore on, his barbed words seemed less sharp, almost lazily thrown in a half assed attempt.

But still you felt a deep ache inside of you, some small pang in the back of your throat like something wasn’t quite right.

After about an hour or so, you wanted to give up. It was just a theory Eris had - in all your years of studying and meeting healers, you had never heard of this ability. You became more exasperated with each attempt, growing more and more convinced this was Eris’s attempt at procuring his own amusement.

“Think of Azriel.” Eris’s voice had cut through the thick air of disappointment you were suffocating in. What did Azriel have to do with this? And why had he been so far from your own thoughts for hours, when he was always at the forefront of your mind these past few months?

“What?”

“Think of Azriel. Think of the arrows in his back and in his wings. You felt his pain. Now remember it.”

You took a deep breath, stilling yourself, allowing Eris’s words to wash over you. You closed your eyes, trying to step into the memory. You thought about the living room of the cabin, the open space with minimal decoration. Azriel’s shallow breaths filled your ears, only allowing yourself to breathe after each of his. Your nose twitched at the copper smell, how every part of you had been roaring at the scent of his blood. How you clung to hope, wanting that feeling to surge through your hands and make its way into Azriel’s skin. You wanted him pieced together with every bit of hope or happiness you harbored, his skin a mosaic of your affection.

Your stomach dropped at the memory, pouring yourself fully into the moment that was days past, not allowing yourself the comfort of knowing he is somewhere in Velaris and he is fine. You had to live in the past, reaching for that feralness you dampened way down. Every sense heightened, the pain you took from Azriel was on the tip of your fingers. You were giving the pain life, letting it live in the very tips of your hands, feed off your blood and energy. its sole creator.

If one's lucky, pain only lives on in memory. Now it lived at your fingertips, growing and festering, waiting to latch onto a new host.

You exhaled slowly, grabbing Eris’s hand one last time. You weren’t really sure what to do, so you just swirled patterns on the palm of his hand, your fingers moving up to his wrist but going no further. You were tracing nonsensical swirls to etch into his skin, maybe even his soul.

The male did not react, staying as still as he had during all of your other attempts. Your heart dropped at the disappointment, feeling shame creep up your neck at having Eris watch you fail again.

So much for him considering the two of you equals. Fitting he’d only consider someone capable of inflicting harm to be an equal.

Your ministrations stopped, the silence of the room stilling your movement. Every other time you had tried, each failure was met with some response from the redhead. Now he sat silent, a sight you had never seen before.

Slowly, you cracked open an eye, unsure of what you wished to see. His pale arm was still extended toward you, but the freckles were now hidden beneath raised red abrasions. Your path of swirls overlapped each other, but they were easy enough to still follow. They all made varying trails of raised red skin, some parts more scratched, others looking more like painful welts.

You gaped at him, surprised such a thing could come from you. Something took root in your chest - pride, maybe? Healing magic was one of the most well documented types of magic, one of the most common and most useful. A large percentage of high fae had varying degrees of healing powers - from accelerated self healing to regrowing limbs. And you had just done something never documented before. Perhaps never even accomplished before. A huge, cheesy grin overtook your face, and a shocked laugh came out as well.

“Even songbirds have claws, don’t they?”

Finally looking at Eris’s face, his sharp features were an attempt at indifference. He held his face neutrally, and weeks ago you would have been fooled, but his eyes gave him away. They sparkled a rich amber in the light, losing the dark edges to make way for something brighter.

Looking at him now, the mask peeled back enough to see his enjoyment, you knew this was the Eris that Azriel had fallen so in love with. So disarming not even centuries of hatred could withstand it.

-

You left the cabin behind you not long afterward, the door finally giving so the two of you could leave. Maybe the shadows heard your laughs, allowing your exit? Or maybe Azriel wasn’t willing to allow his mates to miss dinner?

Whatever the case, you were happy to winnow back to Velaris, your stomach desperate for food. You had a one track mind as you headed for one of your favorite restaurants, a casual, quaint restaurant that had your favorite booths to curl up in and read on lunch breaks. The glow of the restaurant met your eyes, but someone bumped into you, their shoulder hitting you lightly. You looked as they apologized, continuing to shuffle off before you could say anything, their brown hair swaying.

Your gaze lingered just long enough at their retreating form that you noticed the stationary shop you had passed by. Without thinking, you doubled back, walking inside to find perhaps the most gorgeous shop you’ve ever been inside. Dark wood floors and counters, notebooks and pens and every organizational need was color coded.

You get your bearings long enough to pick up some pens and a journal, not really thinking, just doing. Seeing the shop made you think of Azriel, his secret devotion to journaling offering you insight into his inner life.

The past few weeks had been a tangled web of emotion, a back and forth of what lay ahead of you. You needed to unscramble your own inner life, figuring out what you thought and how you felt and write down every detail to look back on. You paid for your supplies, cradling them beneath your arm as you walked back across the street before being recognized by your hostess. She immediately found a small booth, offering it to you before scurrying off.

The hum of other patrons, bits of their conversation, and the hustle of the staff allowed your mind enough background noise to sort out the day you had. This was exactly where you needed to be. Alone with your thoughts, but productive. Now you get to spend a few hours tucked into a booth, scribbling it all out. You started the journal where this whole saga began - when your mating bond with Azriel snapped into place. Four months now felt like a lifetime ago, but that first day was seared into your memory.

It was a usual day. You had gone to work. You had a few patients that needed immediate tending to, the four males having been lost in the woods for quite a while. They would be fine, but you had stayed late to ensure a continued watch, waiting for one of the other junior healers to take over for you.

In the chaotic stretch of time you and Madja were helping them, you hadn’t been aware of just how much time had passed until your patients had been stabilized and a large Illyrian had made his way into the workshop.

Azriel’s face betrayed nothing, except a bit of relief at you being alive in front of him. At the sight of him, you turned to the window, not having noticed the setting sun that had sent the place into darkness.

“Az! I hope you’re not upset with me, merely lost track of time.”

He looked over the four beds, the four males all tucked into multiple blankets, redness in their cheeks and noses.

“I can see that.”

“They’ve been in the woods for a week,” you whispered low enough so the patients would continue sleeping but Azriel would still hear. He hunched over slightly, getting closer to you as you continued. “Poor males lost themselves on the Atterage Slope.”

Azriel sucked in a breath, somewhat familiar with the rocky terrain. He looked at the males again, wondering how they managed to make it out that far.

“What were they doing out there? Usually only Illyrians go out that way. Uneven paths are difficult without wings.”

“Tell me about it.” You chortled. “They seem pretty young. I think they’re in their thirties.”

Azriel nodded as if it was reason enough, remembering the dumb adventures of his own youth. The ridiculous schemes Cassian and Rhysand had pulled him into. The few schemes of his own he pulled them into.

It was a miracle none of them were this bad off.

“Ah, to be young and so brave.”

“You sound old saying that.”

Azriel’s wings fluttered slightly, the slight gush of air causing you to snort. In that breath of a laugh, your world tilted as if you had lost your balance, but you hadn’t moved. The air held a heavy dusting of magic to it, your vision nearly sparkling with it. Everything felt stronger, some sense of connection holding you steady despite your wobbly knees.

Looking at Azriel now felt as if you were allowed to look at the sun. What it must feel like to gaze upon the one thing that gives everything life, every aspect of your world orbiting around it just for a flash of its warmth.

The breath caught in your throat, before allowing for a new inhale of air that somehow felt crisper, as if the oxygen in it knew you weren’t the same as you were thirty seconds ago. As if every piece of life were more intense now that your universe had an anchor.

Azriel was your anchor, your lifeline, your tether to this world. Someone who was supposed to see your darkest parts and love them. Someone who would do anything for you.

There were theories about mates. Some people thought it was a matter of fertility, others thought the Mother was selecting for complementary traits in mates. You always liked the idea that mates were what you weren’t, giving one a new perspective to consider.

Reflecting on that day, it felt silly to wait so long. Each attempt you made to tell him the truth that lingered on your tongue at all hours failed miserably. The timing never felt right, and as happy as you had been about it, you had needed some time to adjust.

You adored the shadowsinger, his company one you always enjoyed. But were either of you ready for a long term commitment? Feyre had told you over a glass of wine once that all Azriel had wanted was a mate, leaving him pining after females in hopes they were his.

You had spent so long devoted to your studies, and now as a junior healer, were truly feeling your stride. Flings and short term relationships happened, but nothing you’d ever want to commit to for a year, much less the rest of your life.

But you spent those four months observing Azriel. How he drank his coffee, how he liked to sit in front of windows in the morning to warm his wings, how he always sat next to you and was the first to get up if you wanted anything.

You saw his pessimism, catching glimpses of the self-loathing that threatened to drown him. Some deep part of you knew that if you were right about mates, if they were chosen for complementing each other, your optimism and hopefulness was exactly what he needed. And his loyalty and steadiness was what you needed from him.

But how did Eris play into all of this? What did he provide that Azriel needed?

All of your thoughts had been logged in your journal, your food here and gone in the time you spent in your mind, deciding it was time to go home.

You had no way of making it up to the House of Wind without a winged escort. You could winnow, allowing the drop to just bang you up a little. Or you could walk the ten thousand steps and continue to think.

Restlessness crept up inside you, your foot tapping to expel the nervous energy. The steps would take longer and allow you to clear your head a bit more, potentially allowing you to sneak in unnoticed.

But they would suck.

Nesta’s smug face appeared in your mind, echoing her sentiments of a ticking clock. You sighed, making your way into the stairwell, letting the stone help still your racing mind.

-

***

The ascent hadn’t been as bad as you thought, even though your thighs were on fire. You couldn’t look over the side of the stairs, the dizzying height enough to make you want to hug the wall as you climbed up the quiet stairwell.

But you made it. Barely breathing, but you made it.

All you wanted was to collapse into bed, or to even lean against the doorframe for a few minutes, but if you stopped now, it’d take you ages to get back up. Rest was not an option until you were sure it would be hours before you’d expect to rise again.

The house was quiet as you crept through it, the pain in your legs sending hissing sounds from your mouth with each step. The halls were dark, a stillness in the air only there when all three of your roommates were away for training. The stairs to your bedroom were so close, you just have to make it through the kitchen where you can easily creep past Nesta and Cassian’s floor and make it to where yours and Azriel’s chambers lie.

“Have fun wherever you snuck off to?”

You stilled, Cassian’s booming voice bouncing off the walls of the stairwell. The laugh behind the words wasn’t quite right, a bit stilted for the usually jovial Illyrian.

“I didn’t do much sneaking.” Cassian shrugged as if you hadn’t said anything at all, either completely ignoring the lie or not believing it.

“Elain dropped off some cookies earlier. Want one? Otherwise I’ll eat them all and Nesta will be mad I didn’t save you any.” You turned, coming back down the stairs as he held out the box stiffly. The cookies did look great, a sweet aroma wafting from them you had missed in your panic to get to your room.

“Couldn’t you just not eat them all?”

His jaw clicked, the slight grind of his teeth loud enough for you to hear. He rummaged through the box before he held out a cookie, pointing it at your neck. “Couldn’t help myself. Just like whatever leech you tangled with today.”

Your hand flew to your neck, trying to shield whatever hickeys laid there. Beneath one of your fingers the skin was tender to the touch, a sure sign of Eris’s pleasure. You untucked your hair, draping it over your neck in a shameful attempt to hide away the day’s activities. The movement wafted the scent of Eris through the air, a quick momentary flash of pale skin and bedsheets, his intoxicating scent of whiskey and bonfire leaving you hungry for more than the cookie in front of you.

Cassian just watched, his outstretched arm acting as a guide to the marks on your now semi-covered neck. The two of you stared at each other, neither conceding in this strange standoff. The general was almost disappointed and upset to find you in such a state, as if he were your jilted lover.

You hadn’t done anything wrong. Not even the mating bond in your chest was upset.

So why was Cassian?

You gave up, snatching the cookie from his hand a bit more forcefully than you should have.

“Does Azriel know?”

You choked on your cookie, coughing lightly. Heat climbed up your chest at Cassian’s question and the fact that you could feel a slight ache in between your legs. You crossed them, trying to limit the smell of your arousal from making its way to Cassian.

“Yes. Azriel knows.” He didn’t - at least not yet. There was no way to properly tell your mate you slept with his other mate.

But he knew you were with Eris. Was the reason you were with Eris.

It was Cassian’s fault for not specifying.

He eyed you wearily, not touching the cookies as you turned from him, ascending the stairs and away from his scrutinizing gaze.

-

Your first day back at work was less than fantastic. Madja hovered over your shoulder, watching your every move. You bit your tongue the whole day, knowing better than to ask her to give you space. She’d respond with some variation of ‘I don’t want to, but you leave me no choice’ or ‘I trained you to not burnout, what other teachings have you foregone?’

Easy, menial tasks filled your day, but your mind was so numb by the end you walked much more leisurely to where you usually meet up with Azriel. Your feet strolled the familiar path, everything familiar and ordinary while you felt anything but.

You could have mentioned to Madja the progress you had made with Eris, but it felt too much like a secret between the two of you. You also didn’t want to tell anyone before fully gaining control over it. You were able to hurt him once. You needed more practice, more control over it.

You had soaked in the tub for a long while last night, scrubbing away all traces of Eris. Your neck had healed overnight, gone were the purple and red marks Cassian had seen in the kitchen. Though they were gone, you still felt their bite whenever you pressed into the skin, the dull pain enough of a reminder that it had been real and not some figment of your imagination.

Catching sight of Azriel at the end of the road sent flutters through your stomach, your mind restarting again as you blinked away the mundanity of your day. You couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on your face, your steps quicker to reach him. The matching smile on his face was like a siren song, pulling you to him.

“You are a nice sight after the day I’ve had, even if you did lock me in a cabin yesterday.”

It surprised you how light you felt seeing him. The past few weeks his face had made you into a melting pot of emotion, but now you only felt calm. Even if he had locked you in a cabin, the outcome was quite fruitful for you, so your ire was in short supply.

“Surely any face is better than boils and warts.”

“None of those today. Just Madja lecturing me every ten minutes. I hope your day fared better.”

His eyes twinkled as he looked down at you, a few of his shadows gently rolled down your arms, intertwining in your fingers. Their cool touch was familiar, a stark contrast to the heat that had radiated from Eris’s skin the previous day.

“Not much better. Tedious. Annoying brothers.”

“Oh, not both of them I hope.”

“Rhys wasn’t too bad, Cassian was the main bother.” You grimaced, lightly toeing your shoe in the street.

“That might be my fault. He found me when I came home last night and he force fed me a cookie.” His eyebrows raised at that, a confused laugh coming from him.

“Why didn’t you say no to the cookie?”

“It was one of Elain’s, who am I to turn that down?”

“Have you eaten anything since the cookie?”

You thought back over your day, the wearisome day not even broken up with a nice break for food.

“I had some coffee this morning.”

“That’s not food.”

You rolled your eyes, lightly jabbing him in the ribs with a finger. At that moment, your stomach decided to growl loudly enough to bring a slight smirk to Azriel’s face.

“Are you doing anything tonight? We could get dinner somewhere.”

“Yeah? Where would you want to go?” You stepped closer, invading his space. He smelled just like he always did, that comforting scent of night chilled mist and cedar that felt like a romanticized version of camping. You picked up hints of the bonfire smell that clung to Eris, melding so perfectly with Azriel’s scent it was practically hidden to everyone but you.

“Do you like comfort food?”

“Love it.”

“Then it’s a surprise.”

“So full of secrets.”

He only smiled, his arms wrapping around the backs of your legs and your shoulders, quickly pulling you into his chest before shooting off into the sky. Your laughter echoed down the street, bouncing down the alleyway.

How many times have you been cradled by him as he soared through the skies, his great wings beating against the air? The number could be in the thousands and it would not matter. Your heart stalled each time, and if you looked down you were sure to find the organ in the place you had just stood.

“You’re cruel!” You shouted over the wind directly into his ear. He flinched at your volume.

“I believe cruelty is in my job title.”

“I believe it has a stipulation that you’re not allowed to be cruel to me.”

“Forgive me. I’m not a fan of such formalities as titles.”

“You brought it up!” Azriel landed the two of you onto the balcony, his feet cushioning the impact. You laughed into his ear, incredulous and loud, not adjusting for the stillness his landing provided.

“Must you assign blame for everything?”

The sun cast away his shadows, his smile bright as the warm rays hit his wings. He looked wonderfully happy, practically glowing in the light. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him so happy. His eyes were on your face, golden flecks nearly blinding with joy.

“Ah, great for you two to join us!” Rhys’s voice burst the bubble, Azriel’s beaming face turning into a scowl before he looked at his brother. The spell was broken, the shadows back over his face before speaking.

“What is this?” His grip on you slackened, your body practically spilling from his arms. You stood unsteadily, not expecting the sudden loss of him. Gaining your balance, you looked around to find several familiar faces around the usually empty dining table. Despite it being Cassian and Nesta’s home, Rhysand sat at the head with Feyre on his left, Cassian and Nesta on his right.

They all looked serious, their faces not giving anything away. You knew Nesta and Rhys were usually at odds, but to see them seemingly united on some front slightly concerned you. Nesta wouldn’t even look at you, her jaw tight as she looked at Rhys.

“We wanted to discuss something with you.” Rhysand was clearly the one taking charge with whatever this intervention was. Azriel stood guarded, one of his wings slightly blocking you to keep him between you and his family. He stayed silent, waiting for Rhysand to say more.

“The gala in Hewn City is next week - Eris will be attending.” Azriel stiffened next to you, the color draining from his face. Everyone else was quiet, Azriel’s plea loud at the pause. “Rhysand-“

Rhys put his hands up, leaning back in his chair, his eyes focused on you, not even looking at his brother.

“Well he does like you, doesn’t he?”

“What? What’s the problem, Az?” Azriel ignored you, his glare fixed in Rhys, only occasionally flickering to Cassian. None of what Rhys was saying made any sense. What do you have to do with Eris and Hewn City? And why was Azriel acting like it was a death sentence?

“Surely you don’t think Eris is so foolish to fall for the same trick a second time.” Gone was Azriel’s joyous laughter, his voice on the precipice of violence.

“Somehow I think it’ll work quite well this time.” Rhys looked at you, every ounce a feline predator having found their next meal. You stepped back at his gaze, never having felt so pinned in place before. “Won’t it?”

The question lingered in the air, but you still weren’t quite understanding. They were gaps in your knowledge, but you had always figured Rhysand wouldn’t leave you in the dark quite like this.

“Azriel, I don’t- what’s he talking about?”

“Yes, Azriel. What are we talking about?” Rhys cocked his head at Azriel, mimicking your questioning tone.

“They want to offer you as bait to Eris. Charm him to what - propose?”

Rhysand finally turned to his brother, violet eyes desperately searching into Azriel’s. You could feel Azriel’s apprehension and rage through the bond - he felt like a cornered animal, ready to attack and maim at any minute.

You still weren’t quite getting what the problem was. No one other than Rhys would look at you, their eyes focused on the ringleader of this intervention. But interventions had a reason, one you were only tangentially understanding.

You had spoken to Nesta before of Eris, asking her if he was as difficult as he seemed. It was practically a lifetime ago when you told her you pitied the fae mated to him. Looking at Azriel, you felt heat creep up your chest and neck at how wrong you had been.

“We can’t let potential allies slip through our fingers, Azriel.”

Rhys deflated just slightly, clearly unsatisfied with what he found in Azriel. He turned back to you, sizing up his prey. It sent shivers down your spine. You looked to Nesta again, looking for some sense of solidarity, of not feeling like a cow at auction, but she gave you none, only looking at the table in silence.

“Think about it, sleep on it, give me an answer in a few days.”

Azriel’s palm was gentle as it pressed against your back, quickly ushering you from the room, shielding your body with his wings. His long strides conveyed his urgency to get you out of there, your own feet barely keeping up with his speed.

Azriel pushed you into your room, his shadows scoping every inch of the room, tugging on every door and window, ensuring the room was secure. His face darkened, his hands almost shaking with rage. You had never seen him like this, his anger chilling the room by a few degrees.

“I can’t believe they’d do this. Suggest this. Allow you, urge you to marry him.” Every word was hurried and rushed, each a half formed thought you didn’t fully follow. His words were biting, but you didn’t flinch nor back down.

“I don’t understand, Az. Eris isn’t the evil villain they think he is.” You were certain you could talk him down, get him to see that this isn’t the death sentence he’s acting like it is.

“Thankfully. But they don’t know that. They’re offering you to this evil monstrous version of him. As well as marching you straight to Beron.”

He was practically on high alert, his body still guarding you, his shoulders straight and ready for any enemy attack.

You had forgotten about Beron. For one brief moment, you had forgotten the danger that Eris lived in constantly.

“I will be okay.” You didn’t have any reason for such confidence, but deep in your chest you knew it to be true. You knew Eris wouldn’t allow any harm to come to you.

“I don’t like this. I don’t like how they’ve banded together on this.” You could practically hear how loud he was thinking, his mind racing as he paced back and forth in front of you.

“They know something.”

It came through like a clang, the thought rattling around your mind.

“They think they can use me to get Eris to do whatever they want.”

Azriel looked at you, realization dawning on his features. His lips parted, making a slight ‘o’ as he stared, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“They want to use him through you.”

You nodded, your jaw ticking at the idea of making anyone beholden to them through their mate.

“They think he’s my mate.”

You wanted to tell Azriel about your romp in the sheets with Eris. The urge wasn’t coming from a place of guilt, but rather just the urge to confide in him, to ask him what it could mean.

But now didn’t feel like the right time. There were more pressing matters.

“They think he’s my mate.” It was half-formed, the idea coming through to you. How you could play this, how all of this could play out. As nosey and annoying as Azriel’s family was, they may have just handed the two of you the perfect card.

“Azriel, this could solve everything. I go to Autumn as Eris’s bride..” you trailed off, hoping he would pick up on your train of thought. A moment later he was standing straighter, his shadows moving to swirl on the floor instead of at his shoulders.

“And I could join you as a guard, as your protector.”

“Do you think Beron would allow that? He’d assume you’re there to spy.”

He thought for a long while, his face scrunching with the effort of concentration. He was still annoyed, but his breathing was slowing down, his stance relaxing.

“It would allow me to visit Autumn more without them becoming suspicious at least.”

A hazy plan was forming between you two. Could this actually work? You certainly weren’t Eris’s favorite person, but surely you could get along well enough to live together. And maybe he could provide some protections for you against Beron.

“I think there’s more to-“ he was cut off by someone at your door, three quick knocks telling you exactly who it was. Azriel disappeared into the shadows in your closet as the door opened, Nesta making her way into your room. She looked around the space, expecting to find someone.

“I heard voices.”

“You’re hearing things, Nesta.” You were a bit cross with her, unable to help the betrayal you felt as she allowed Rhys to offer you up to Eris. Nesta had been your friend and watching her sit idly by as you continued asking questions, not understanding, only enraged you more.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know Rhys was going to ask you to do this.” She looked sincere, the care for you she harbored clear across her face.

“It’s fine, Nesta.” It wasn’t, but you wanted her to leave so you could keep talking to Azriel. You didn’t want to have this conversation now, didn’t want her to know how happy it would make you.

“No. I didn’t - I think Cassian told him.”

“Told him what?”

“That I think you and Eris are mates.”

Wherever Azriel was, you were sure he was listening. You felt tingly at having figured it out yourself, but you played dumb, the shocked expression on your face was one that was just fake enough to continue to lead her on this trail of thinking.

“Why would you think that?” You had already deduced their idea, but you didn’t quite know why. Her eyes tracked the book that still laid on your nightstand, the book you had gotten in secret to mourn the mating bond between you and Azriel.

“Is that the secret? Is that what you can’t tell me? Azriel knows, right? He’s been covering for you.”

“Yes.” The lie rolled off your tongue, “Azriel knows.”

You hated lying to Nesta, the action nearly giving you a rash somewhere on your shoulder. It was your one tell, but you couldn’t give it up now. You’d let them think you and Eris were mates, slowly easing them into the actual reality of how messy and entangled yours, Azriel, and Eris’s lives were.

It was a bit silly. Surely Azriel could just tell his loved ones about his own mateship.

But now, looking at Nesta and seeing the depths of pity in her gaze, you knew why Azriel had never told them.

For a moment, you wondered if that’s how they’d look at him if he told them of your mating. Would they be happy it wasn’t Eris for you? Your heart panged a bit, so much heartache and pain over Eris.

“I didn’t tell you because I had a hard time believing it myself.” You chuckled self-deprecatingly, rubbing your arm as you stood awkwardly. “You caught me.”

If she thought you were lying, she didn’t say. Or give anything away to indicate it.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.” You looked up only to find her face full of resolve. “I’m much younger than all of you and unaware of the full history, but Eris seems… well, surely if the Mother mated the two of you it was for a good reason.”

“Perhaps good breeding stock.” Nesta shook her head, looking you over.

“No, there’s something about you. There must be something about him, too. He’s very lucky.”

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, letting the silence wash over you. Eventually Nesta lightly clapped her hands together before saying, “well, I’ll be off for the evening. I have to pick a fight with my mate for bringing Rhysand into all of this.”

You gave her a small wave before she turned around, closing your door softly as she exited. You listened as her footsteps retreated down the hall and down the stairs, the house now quiet before Azriel rematerialized before you.

“Do you want to come with me to see Eris? I’ll need to brief him on the plan.” Your feelings toward the redhead had become so complicated, you weren’t sure if you wanted to see him or not. The mating bond roared in your chest, some territorial ache winning out over the idea of watching the mated pair interact.

“I’ll stay behind.”

Scarred hands held the back of your head, pulling you closer, his lips gently meeting your forehead. The action warmed you down to your toes, such intimacy from Azriel a rarity you cherished.

“Be safe. I’ll be back.”

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