#and then we chilled out before i decided i could handle leaving home and wanted to go to the mall

[maraeffect]

okay today was like the first time since surgery that i've been able to exist as a human outside my house!! and i had a great time even though i am PAYING FOR IT. HEAVILY 💀

[repulsiveliquidation]

Too Dangerous

Ona Batlle x Reader [SMUT! rough.] Mafia and Football, can the two worlds coexist?

two part series, part two is in the making.

i had to use the new gifs im sorry, they’re not mine!

//

“I expected it to be dropped off by noon today, Michael.”

“I-I was five minutes late! There was t-traffic!”

“That’s not my fucking problem. I said noon, I want fucking noon!!”

Your hand slaps across his face, eyes seething with anger. You chuckle darkly, your fist forming tight before you punch his face repeatedly. His face slices open from the ring you were wearing, you hold yourself back from leaving another bruising blow on his mangled face. You put your hand out and a wet towel slips into it which you use to wipe your knuckles off.

Your right-hand man, George checks his pulse, nodding at you.

“He’ll be alright.”

“Of course he will, I didn’t even hit him that hard.”

“What do you want me to do with him?”

“Send him home with another shipment for tomorrow and see if he’s learned his lesson.”

You turn on your heel and throw the towel somewhere. The mansion is big with four wings; the east wing is reserved for activities such as this. You’ve two bodyguards that follow you around everywhere, your head of security insists that you can never be too careful.

“Pat, James, give me a fucking minute to breathe yeah? I think I can handle any moron that tries to jump me in my own house.”

“Yes ma’am,” James says gruffly, walking away with Pat to hang out in the security room.

Stepping into the west atrium, you hear your favorite sound in the world. You hear your girlfriend laughing at something when you also hear the chef telling her one of his serially bad jokes.

“What’s brown and sticky?”

“What?”

“A stick!”

It’s a stupid joke but Ona is too nice not to laugh wholeheartedly at it. You walk in and she hears you, leaving the conversation to jump into your arms. It had been days since she last saw you, you were on a business trip and she had shoots to do after training.

“Hi baby girl,” you say, catching her when she jumps up into your arms.

“Hi…,” she whispers, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, darling. The boys pick you up on time?”

“Sí, they were waiting for me when I walked out and saw your text. I think Martin drove my car here for me too.”

“Good, I told him to. Are you hungry? Gio would be more than happy to whip something up for us. Approved from your diet of course.”

“Mm, I am a little hungry.” You gently put her down, she presses her lips to yours and controls a searing kiss for a while. Your hands find her small waist, pulling her into you before she pulls away.

“Okay, I’m not so hungry anymore.”

It's your turn to laugh, pecking her forehead.

“You’re something baby. Come on, let’s get you fed.”

Ona requests Spanish breakfast for dinner, and Gio goes a little crazy when fulfilling her request. There are plates upon plates of food, the smell making everyone’s stomachs growl with hunger. You sit at the head of the table, Ona deciding to scoot in and settle herself in your lap. Your hand slips around her hips as she leans back into your chest.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“I have a concern, can we talk after dinner?”

She pulls back and looks down at you, eyes looking a little worried. You nod, rubbing the small of her back softly.

“Of course, baby. I’ll get a bottle of champagne chilled, we can relax by the pool and have a little swim, how’s that sound?”

"Suena perfecto, bebé.”

She looked a little more relieved then, she moved to get off your lap and into her usual chair on your right. You grasp her waist a little tighter as she tries to stand, whispering only to her.

“Stay.”

The voice used insinuates obedience, she nods and begins to pile her plate high. She digs in, feeding you off her plate.

“Gio, these tostadas are divine,” you say as Ona feeds you another bite.

“Gracias! My mother would kill me if she knew I was selling her sacred recipes online.”

“Oh, could you slip a Boërl in the chiller Gio? Ona and I want a bottle to have by the pool tonight.”

“Already have, madame, it’ll be ready when you are.”

“Perfect, feed the boys will you? Lord knows they’ll never let a speckle of your cooking go to waste,” you say, pushing your chair back and helping Ona to her feet before standing yourself. You take her hand and walk towards the bedroom, climbing the quartz stairs with a little pep in your step.

The entire dinner consisted of being one, fed by Ona, and two, wracking your brain as to why she wanted to talk to you about something that was concerning her. Was it the club, or did something happen? Was there someone bothering her at the facility, a stalker I needed to get rid of? Did she want to break up with you? You’ve been together for 4 years, maybe she was bored of all the secrecy and the vows of not making your work interfere with her life when you made a mistake when we started dating.

You called her over in the morning a year ago on her day off, forgetting that she was coming soon after. You had a money laundering prick who scammed little old ladies come in and you had to “deal with it,” she walked right into the east wing where a newbie security detail moronically brought her to me.

She stood and watched you break a man's ribs, and jaw, then proceeded to cut a few fingers off to find in a bucket of others to have sewn back on. Only when there was a loud gagging sound and a flash of brown hair did you realize who was watching.

She ran to the closest bathroom and threw up, yelling at you to go away. After coaxing her to open the door, she pushed herself as far as she could away from you; she was scared. You had never let her into this part of your work, scared for this very reason. She had seen a side of you that you kept well hidden, reserved for people who fucked with you. It took her days to even look at me, let alone be in the same room as you. You had made it crystal clear that what you did was not for her to know, but for her to enjoy the wealth that came with it. She had a vague idea, and was warned severely of the consequences, should she be inclined to speak to people who could end it all. But as time went on, you knew she was not one to betray you; she had turned into one of the most loyal people in my world, someone you would gladly lay you life down for.

“I’ve got you a present,” you say, pulling her into our bedroom.

“What is it this time? You spoil me way too much.”

“It’s not another car, I promise. It’s little, fitting for tonight.”

You pull out a brand-new swimsuit, one that leaves anyone who would see her in a minute jealous that she was all yours.

“Oh bebita, it’s gorgeous.”

“Put it on, I’ve been dreaming of you in it since I bought it.”

She hops into the bathroom to change, as you pull on a swimsuit yourself. It’s plain black, and if the night goes to plan, will end up next to a lawn chair in about 30 minutes.

She walks out shyly, hands behind her back, standing in all her muscular glory.

“Fuck, it is so much better than I imagined. C’mere.”

She timidly walks over, wrapping her arms around your neck. She leans in and kisses you, lips soft and tasted like cherry. You kissed back, humming softly into her mouth. She pulled away, hands softly stroking the back of your neck.

“I love you,” she whispers, “and thank you. It’s so pretty.”

“Just like you, my girl.”

She blushes again, grabbing your hand and running down to the pool outside. She lets go of your hand and dives in, coming up and swimming to the edge. She rests her arms on the side, taking the glass of champagne from you with a soft “thank you, amor.”

You sit by the edge, feet dipped into the cold water. Sipping on the expensive alcohol, she suddenly pushes herself out of the pool and sits beside you. Remembering why you were here in the first place, she finishes her glass and you immediately fill it up again. The bubbly wine gives her liquid courage, and she feels brave enough to admit her troubles and not let her brain convince her that she’s overreacting.

“I think someone’s been following me.”

You stop drinking, head slowly turning to look at her.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s been this car I’ve been seeing for weeks. At first, I thought it was just a new staff member or something but I saw it in the parking lot when I was grocery shopping the other night and I thought it was a new fan or something but now I think it’s someone because of you.”

“How long? Do not lie to me.”

“2 months.”

“Fucking hell Ona.”

Your brain immediately goes into protective mode, coming up with all the ways to find the fucker and cut him into a million pieces. You run your hand down your face.

“I want a detailed description for George tomorrow. I’ll increase your security, and put George on your team. You will not go anywhere without him, I will make sure you get to training and whatever on time. I’ll have a word with Jonatan too, see if my men can hang around to protect you and the girls if necessary until I fucking kill the bastard.”

“That’s too much baby,” she begins to negotiate but you stop her, hand raised in front of her face.

“No, not when it comes to you, darling. You only get the best, if the girls get to enjoy that too on my dime, so be it.”

She sets her glass to the side and surges forward, pressing her lips desperately on yours. You kiss back, cupping her face gently. Ona pulls away and grins, before slipping back into the pool. You’re about to jump in when she grabs your hands and pulls you in. You squeal in surprise, coming up with a cheeky grin on your face.

“You’re in big trouble, baby girl.”

“What if I want to be?” Oh, bold Ona. Very bold, my love.

“Then you won’t be opposed to being punished, hm?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You pulled me into the water, and you didn’t tell me about your stalker for two months. You’re lucky he didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to be wrong.”

“I’m not mad, my love. I’m so proud of you for being brave and coming to me. Let me worry about it now, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You pull her in for a kiss, hands roaming her body. You won’t lie, the swimsuit she had on was a massive turn-on and if we weren’t about to fuck in the pool, you was sure as hell going to devour her before bed.

“You look way too fucking good in that two-piece not to be ravishingly worshipped, my darling.”

She blushes, kissing you hard. Ona pulls your hands around to her ass, which you squeeze hard and draw a deep moan from her. Your hands pull at her cheeks, fingers rubbing gently at her asshole and folds. You maneuver her around to the edge again, picking her up easily to sit. She leans back, as your fingers pull her bottoms to the side and bury your face in her folds. She’s soaking wet, arousal thick and delicious.

She whimpers for you, strong hands tangled in your wet locks. Your tongue darts into her, throwing her legs over your shoulders before pulling her closer to the edge. You're practically holding her hips up, lips suckling at her clit hard. Ona moans loudly, back arching off the ground.

“Please!” she moans, fingers tightening in your hair as her legs squeeze at your head deliciously. You slip two fingers into her, pumping in and out of her slick pussy hard. They press up into her sweet spot, fingertips rubbing circles over it to get her to come faster. She huffed and puffed, face contorting into all kinds of pleasure. She makes eye contact and cries out your name, coming hard and fast. Ona pants, licking her dry lips.

“A la mierda esto, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will die.”

“Picked out a new strap for you to be split open on, mi amor.”

//

“puta madre!”

“Yeah, this one’s pretty fuckin’ big huh?”

“Feels s-so good!”

Your hips pound into Ona, swimsuits abandoned at the foot of the bed. She’s on her front, trying her best to push her ass back on you as you fuck her from behind. She tries to keep up, knees buckling every time the new strap finds a new erogenous spot she never knew she had. It was significantly bigger than she had ever taken, with three prior orgasms and a fingering of a lifetime, she was finally open enough to take the head. Coming once again was the key to taking the whole thing, Ona looked absolutely wrecked when speared on it.

“You’re so fucking hot baby, taking my cock so well princess,” you cooed, hands turning her onto her back as your fingers rubbed her clit that you just spat on. She was sensitive beyond words, her speech slurred, and was barely babbling, hyper-focused on her pending sixth orgasm for the night.

“Are you gonna cum, my sweet?” you whispered into her ear, leaning over her as your hips did not slow down one bit. Hands pressed her legs wide open, harness dragging over her clit with each powerful thrust.

“Yes, yes!” she croaked out, head nodding hard and fast as she cried tears of frustration and sexual arousal.

You spat on her hot clit again, fingers rubbing messily at her folds as you sped up even more. She screamed, orgasm ripping through her hard. She was convulsing and begging for you to not stop, the aftershocks making her beg again, this time for you to stop.

You chuckle and do, pulling out and pulling the harness off. She tucked in your chest immediately, cradled, and kissed softly.

“You took that so well, darling.”

“Can we take a bath together please?”

You pick her up, heading into the huge en suite. She sits pretty on the counter, feet dangling as you start a hot bath. You help her in, climbing in behind her as she settles back against your chest. Her eyes close, pulling your arms around her middle. Your lips press against her shoulders, sucking softly at her skin. She hums, biting her lip gently.

“Can we do one more?” you ask her, grinning against her ear, hand already caressing the inside of her thighs.

“Amor…” she whines, body jolting in surprise when your fingers gently rub at her sore folds.

“Just one more baby girl, then we’ll go to bed.”

Your fingers, long and thick, fill her pussy with unsurprising ease. They drag slow and taut, mulling her pleasure like an aged wine. She whines, legs opening wider in the water as your fingers slip in deeper. She grasps your forearm, grinding carefully into your hand.

“Already so close, mi vida? I can feel you clenching around me hm?”

“You feel just…so full…”

“Come for me baby, you’ve done exceptionally all night, love.”

She comes with a cry of your name, going boneless in your arms. You finger her through the aftershocks, her whines dying in her throat.

All dried and tucked in bed, Ona suddenly presses herself up on top of you. She looks down with fear in her eyes.

“When you find him,” she takes a deep breath, “You’re not going to kill him are you?”

Your hands brush up on her thighs, thumbs softly rubbing her hips.

“It depends on what choice he gives me, darling. What I do with him is none of your concern.” Your tone is final, and she doesn’t argue, instead scooting down and resting her head on your chest.

"Buenas noches, mi amor".

“Good night, my beautiful girl.”

//

“I’ll see you at the game. You won’t be late, right?”

“No, my love. George will take you; I have some business to attend to first. I’ve also spoken to security at the stadium, my men are there as an extra precaution looking for the description you gave us. It’ll be a little stuffy for the girls, I apologize.”

“Can you come and explain the situation to the girls with me?” Ona asks with wide eyes, wrapping her arms around your neck. Your hands hold her hips, gently pulling her into yours.

“Of course, bebita. Anything you want.”

She walks out of the house with three more security guards than she’s used to, shoved into a huge van with tinted windows that she couldn’t even see out of and instructions to not engage with fans for today.

“But, they’re here to see us! I can’t just ignore them!” Ona argues, determined to put her foot down.

“I’m sorry ma’am, we have to be safe,” George informs her, looking back from the front seat.

“No, I will not do it. The fans have nothing to do with it, you don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m calling Y/N,” she says firmly, dialing your number.

“Amor?”

“Missing me so soon, princesa?”

“Why am I not allowed to meet with the fans today?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“Can you tell George that please?” 

She hands the phone over, deciphering the conversation you two were having, grinning when she heard she had her way.

He hands her phone back with a slightly annoyed look.

“No one gets a shirt signed until I’ve determined they don’t look funny.”

//

“Chicas! Why the hell are there so many men in suits outside?” Patri yells out as she enters the changing room. Most of the girls nodded and began to talk amongst themselves. Suddenly, the door is opened and you walk in, the door locking behind you.

“Hola girls, hi baby,” you announce, Ona running up to you for a hug and a kiss. You spin her around and put her down before you shrug your coat off.

You greet everyone else with hugs and kisses before Alexia pipes up and enquires about why you’re here.

“Board members don’t usually visit their teams before an easy game,” she questioned, hands on her hips dramatically.

You’ve owned a sizable chunk of Barcelona for years, something your father passed down to you along with his “business” when he died 7 years ago. It was how you met Ona, having been a close friend of Alexia’s when she introduced you two at a Spain international friendly when you had visited to see Alexia play. It was love at first sight, at least for you. No one could ever compare to her.

“Sorry girls, this one’s my doing. We have a situation, I’m handling it. It’ll be this way for a while until it’s resolved.”

“Is this about that guy that’s been hovering around the facility for weeks now?” Caro asks, and the whole team begins to nod.

“Is there something I’m missing here?”

You look at Ona, then at Alexia. Alexia opens her mouth to speak when Ona lifts her hand.

“All of us have been stalked bebé. It’s the same guy,” she says, some of the girls discussing his description, and it was becoming clear that it was the same guy that Ona was talking about.

Your eyes change and you run a hand down your face. Just as you’re about to call George, he does.

“Ma’am, I have the information you asked for.”

“I do too although I have a feeling you’re going to tell me something I already know, you go first.”

The girls listen in, the room is silent except for your voice and George’s muffled one.

“He’s more than just Ona’s stalker, he’s been following all the girls.”

“Well, it looks like we’re both on the same page.”

“How did you know to check?”

“A hunch. You better have more than that for me.”

//

El Clasico goes as smoothly as it could, with Barça getting an easy win over Real. You’re in the stands, phone pressed to your ear. Ona and Aitana walk over to sign autographs and such, you wave and go back to talking to George on the phone. Ona gets close enough to hear you, sighing when you move away and walk into the tunnel without her.

Aitana notices, asking her friend if everything is alright. Ona shrugs, signing another fan t-shirt.

“Something’s wrong, I can feel it.”

//

You’ve made your way into the changing room as the girls slowly filter in. You look at little angry but smile at Ona when she walks in with Aitana.

George continues on the phone.

“He’s got a few favorites. Besides Ona, he’s been frequenting Alexia, Aitana, Lucy, and, this one was a surprise, Ingrid.”

You pull your phone from your ear, looking at the girls whose names were listed.

“Ona, Ingrid, Alexia, Aitana and Lucy. With me.”

Mapi gives Ingrid a look but lets her go, the five girls following you out to an empty physio room. They’re silent, looking at each other with great concern.

You keep talking to George.

“What’s the plan, boss?”

“He isn’t here, is he?”

“No ma’am, we’ve searched every nook and cranny.”

“The house is the safest for them right now.”

“I agree.”

“I’ll call you back in a minute.”

Click.

“Do not panic,” you start, walking into the room towards the girls. “As George said earlier, he’s been stalking everyone. But he’s followed you five more.”

"¡Oh, Dios mío!"

“What the fuck?”

“What does that mean?”

“You four will stay with Ona and me until we find the bastard.”

//

“The maids have your rooms ready. You’ve each got your own, the kitchen is through there, the gym is beside the theater, we’re having dinner by the pool on your left and I wouldn’t go near the east wing if I were you.”

“Sí, gracias,” Alexia says, grabbing her bags and taking the closest room to her. The others follow while Ona sticks around.

“I’m worried for them, bebé.”

“I am too, they’ve just been put into a world that they did not sign up for and it’s all my fault.”

“It comes with the job, amor. These stalkers aren’t something new.”

“I know but, for him to be this close to home makes it a reality I am scared to face.”

She wraps her arms around your neck, caressing the soft hair on your nape. Ona leans in and kisses you chastely, thumbs rubbing your ears softly.

“I know you will do everything possible to keep us safe, bebita. We trust you.”

“Sí, we all do,” Aitana says softly and you both turn to look at her, surprised to see all of them standing there; you hadn’t heard them come in.

“We may not know what you do Y/N, but we know enough that nowhere else is safe but here.”

//

“We’ve got extra guys on the ground, I called in a favor from an old friend of mine and we’ve gotten access to all the camera footage in the stadium that Barcelona has refused to give me. If he’s here, we’ll find him.” You tell the team at training one day, fear of him getting bolder and bolder had spread to the whole team now. Everyone was on edge, scared to go home even; you had arranged for an Airbnb for the rest of the team with the highest security you could buy, even then it didn’t feel like it would be safe till the asshole was found.

A couple of weeks had gone by and every time we got close to catching him, he managed to slip away. It was getting increasingly frustrating, the girls were getting more and more anxious about him potentially getting away with it.

There was a cryptic note on our car last week after training, with pictures of Ona and Ingrid at the park with Zeus, my dog. The letter inside said, “I know your every move before you make it, give up your search and give her to me and maybe I’ll leave the rest alone.”

The picture showed Ona circled in red. There were also five bullets in the envelope; five bullets that belonged to your gun. You knew it did because a. they were a specific size handmade for you and b. your initials were stamped on each case, hidden within the shell upon further inspection.

“George, what the fuck, are you out of your mind?! We’re not using my girlfriend as bait!” You yell, slamming your hand into the table. George sighs, shaking his head.

“Boss, please-”

“We are NOT using her as bait, George!”

“Who?”

Both your heads whip towards the sound of the voice; Ona stands in the door frame of your office in the east wing. She’s not supposed to be here.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” George starts but you raise and hand and point at the door then at him.

“Out,” you tell him before looking at Ona, “Hello, love.”

She sighs and steps aside for George to leave; he closes the door behind him.

“George is right, you’re not supposed to be here.”

“I wanted to see you,” she reached out for your hand but she looked a little hesitant, “ever since you’ve been looking for this guy, you’ve been obsessed and so stressed. It’s wearing you out, bebita.”

“I have to find him, Ona. I have to protect you, protect the girls.”

“But you’ve been neglecting me.”

Her tone was sad and dejected, one that pained you to your core. You had been ignoring her, ignoring her needs. She was here and yet you were always in your office or out somewhere working. This guy had taken over your life for a while and you didn’t see the damage he was doing within.

[unluckilyimnot]

hiîi can I request prompts 7+20 with SAE and kaiser (separate)??

also can I use 🎀 as an anon?? I loveee your work!!

7 - "I thought maybe we will kiss tonight" + 20 - "You'll always be my favorite" with kaiser (hurt to comfort) and sae (fluff)

m.list | rules | prompt list

Note: hiiii I did it exceptionally, it's normally close but maybe I'll open it if I feel courageous

Of course you can !! Anyone can feel free to ask for an emoji or to be tagged when I post ♡

Sae 

When Sae walked into his apartment, it was past midnight. He's been gone all day and wasn't expecting anything when coming back home. 

You both got used to his changing schedule and the time when you used to wait for him was long gone. 

He never expected to see you fast asleep on the couch, a plaid on you and the TV still showing the rerun of Friends. You never really liked it but here you were, badly sitting and breaking your neck.

It didn't take him long to notice the dry tears strains on your checks and a million rushed through his brain. Yet, he'll know nothing until tomorrow. Nothing about your day, what you ate or why those tears were there in the guest place. 

Taking a seat next to you, he laid his forehead against yours, not holding the released sigh in the back of his throat anymore. “I thought I'll get to kiss you tonight.” 

He knows he's absent lately, a lot more than you can handle. And he's so deeply sorry to do that to you. You don't know how bad he tries to get back to just see you awake, before bed. 

You don't know how bad he misses you all day and wants to spend just an evening with you. Because seeing you will always be his favorite part of the day.

Kaiser

Your relationship with Michael was complicated. Call this a situationship if you want, but it was mainly because of the press you weren't together. It would be a scandale if they found out. 

What you never expected is Michael to be so jealous when it touches his co-workers. You've met some, being in the model industry, and he never made a fuss about it. Before today. 

“Please, what are you mad about ?! We're doing our job !” you yelled at him, gripping your hair because sighing loudly. 

Your quota had already expired for the day and he was ignoring you. That's all it takes for you to grab your jacket and start your leave.

“I thought we could have a chill night together. Watching a sappy movie, maybe kissing midway since it would've been shitty but you decided to be an asshole. Thanks.”

His silence was loud. His back was facing you and he didn't even glance in your direction. The anger was slowly replaced with sadness as you exhaled slightly to hold back your tears. 

“Why are you always like this when you're my favorite, huh ?” 

“I'm scared you're gonna leave me for someone else.” He confessed under his breath, you almost missed it. It made you lay your bag on the counter again before taking a few steps closer to him.

“Why would I? It's by being like this that it can happen Michael…” 

“I know but I can't express it another way!” He snapped at you, aiming to push you away but you were out of reach. Instead your gaze falls in his glossy eyes, breaking your heart. 

You didn't forget how mean he was, never, but you couldn't help but hold him close to you. Even if he rejected you at first. 

He's hard to deal with, but deep down you know he's only hurt and scared, and that you have to help him with that. 

Let me know if you liked it!

Reblog are appreciated ♡

[unclewaynemunson]

It's October when the autumn chill officially dawns over Hawkins. Wayne wakes up to fogged-up windows, and his bones protest loudly when he stretches to get up and make himself some warm coffee. It's too early in the year to turn on the heating; if they start that now, they'll be bankrupt before it's even January. So while the coffee is brewing, he shrugs off the old shirt he uses as a pajama, and puts on as many layers as he'll need to keep himself warm: first an undershirt, then a soft flannel, and then a faded brown sweater that's been sitting uselessly in his closet all through the summer. It's patched up at the elbows to conceal the holes that have fallen into it, but still warm and comfortable, which is all Wayne can really ask for.

'Ed, got coffee for ya!' he calls out when he's changed into his jeans and the coffee is almost ready.

Some muffled noises sounding vaguely like 'lemmesleeeeeep' emerge from the other side of the thin wall.

Wayne chuckles as he turns on the gas, deciding he might as well make scrambled eggs for breakfast; a thinly-veiled excuse to heat up the trailer by using the stove.

'And eggs in a minute!'

Another string of muffled sounds emerges from Eddie's bedroom, 'stoocold' being the only semi-decipherable one.

For a moment, Wayne feels guilty. He knows, deep down, that this is nothing more than his Eddie being dramatic. But that doesn't change his wish that he could simply turn on the heat without giving it a second thought and make Eddie's Sunday morning just slightly more comfortable. He doesn't care about the chill in his own bones, he's had worse. He doesn't care about the condensation on the windows, that is now changing into thick droplets that are gliding down to the windowsill, leaving traces of soot in their wake. He's not even sure if he'd ever want to live in a real, proper house. But the one thing he does want, is to get his nephew through the season warm and comfortable without having to count every penny.

Eddie finally emerges from his bedroom, with only his head peeking out of the blanket he has wrapped himself in, and a sleepy look in his eyes. The phone starts ringing just as Wayne greets him, and Eddie, who's closer to it, shuffles towards it.

Almost immediately after he picks up, his eyes shed their drowsy look and light up in a way that Wayne has come to know all too well, while his mouth curves into a wicked grin.

'No, sir, he's not here,' Eddie says into the phone, his eyes wide and innocent. 'When he didn't come home last night, I assumed he'd be spending the night with you. I guess he must have a secret lover we both don't know about.'

Wayne abruptly turns off the gas and barges towards Eddie, who barks out a laugh while he jumps back as far as the phone cord allows him.

'Just joking, Mr. Clarke, he is here!' he calls out in an annoyingly triumphed tone. 'And he can't wait to talk to you, here he is!'

Wayne playfully shoves Eddie against the wall as he takes the phone from him.

'Sorry for my menace of a nephew, Scott,' he says.

He hears a chuckle on the other side of the line, slightly distorted through the horn. It's as if his hand has a will of its own, clenching around the phone and pressing it almost painfully close to his ear; like he'll be able to catch the sound of Scott's laughter better if he could only press himself tighter to his phone.

'Luckily I'm used to middle schoolers, nothing I can't handle here.'

Wayne snorts and turns towards Eddie, who is now shamelessly staring at him from above his blanket-cocoon a few steps away from him.

'Scott says you should stop behavin' like a damn middle schooler,' he grumbles.

'Yep, that sounds exactly like something sweet Scott Clarke would say,' Eddie remarks, that devilish grin still plastered on his face.

'What can I do for ya, Scott?'

'Well, I just came downstairs for breakfast, and when I looked outside, I realized this is our first proper fall day.'

Wayne directs his gaze to the wet kitchen window. He hadn't even thought to look through the droplets on the glass; but now that he does, he realizes Scott is right. The trees around Forest Hills are definitely showing more yellow and orange than they did yesterday, and some patches of fog are still lingering a few feet above the wilted grass and muddy roads. The skies are a light shade of gray, telling Wayne that even though it'll be cold, it won't likely start raining anytime soon.

'I was wondering if you have any plans for today?' Scott's continues in his ear. 'We could go for a walk in the forest, admire the colors, see if we can find some cool mushrooms... What do you think?'

Wayne wonders whether he's imagining the nervous edge to Scott's voice, merely hearing in there what he wants to hear.

'I'm free all day,' Wayne says. He clamps the phone between his ear and his shoulder, needing both his hands to fumble around in his chest pocket and find a cigarette and a lighter. 'You wanna come over after breakfast? I can make a thermos of coffee and we can head into the woods here, I know a nice path around Lov- around the lake.' He can feel Eddie's gaze burning on him, but he refuses to look at his nephew, instead closing his eyes as he places the cigarette between his lips and lights it.

Scott is kind enough to pretend like he didn't notice Wayne's unfortunate stutter.

'A walk around the lake sounds perfect,' he says instead, his voice still as chipper as ever. 'I'll be at yours in an hour. Enjoy your breakfast with Eddie.'

'Real smooth, Uncle Wayne.' Eddie's amused voice cuts through the silence as soon as Wayne has hung the phone back on the hook.

'Don't be ridiculous now, boy,' Wayne grumbles. 'He's my friend.'

'With whom you're gonna hang out at Lover's Lake. Like friends do.' The sarcasm is dripping from Eddie's voice.

'I liked you better when you were still asleep in your bed,' Wayne remarks.

Eddie laughs loudly. 'You shoulda thought about that before you made me come out of it to freeze to death.'

Wayne crosses his arms and shoots Eddie an unimpressed look. 'Are you gonna do anything today or just spending your whole day makin' fun of me?'

Eddie shrugs – or rather, that's what Wayne supposes is happening underneath the moving blanket. 'I'm gonna take the kids to the pumpkin farm with Steve.' He lowers his voice and leans closer towards Wayne, continuing in an conspiratorial voice, 'We call that a date. Maybe you and Mr. Clarke should stop being cowards and come join us. Make it a double date.'

Wayne doesn't say anything; he simply rolls his eyes and walks back to the stove, lighting the gas underneath the frying pan again so he can direct all his attention to his eggs.

---

An hour later, Eddie has left – with a pit stop at the Mayfields' trailer – to pick up Steve. Wayne has done the dishes, dried the windows and filled a thermos with fresh coffee. By the time Scott parks his car in the spot where Eddie's van had been earlier, most of the fog outside has disappeared. Wayne watches him get out of his car through the kitchen window, but he doesn't come outside just yet, afraid it'll make him seem too eager.

Scott knocks on the door and then lets himself in, like he's done many times over the summer that now lies behind them. He's wearing a woolen coat in a dark gray color, with a simple black scarf around his neck.

Wayne feels his hands twitch with the desire to wrap themselves around Scott's waist, to tug him close and bask in the warmth of his body. Would his scarf feel as soft as it looks? Would he smell like fresh autumn air? Would his touch be as warm as the quilt on his couch?

'Oof, it's chilly in here,' Scott remarks, rubbing his hands together.

'I don't get cold that fast.' It's only partly a lie.

'I like the sweater.'

The easy and earnest compliment catches Wayne off-balance; he doesn't know what to do, where to look, where to keep his hands. He wants to escape Scott's approving gaze and hide away somewhere no one can perceive him.

Instead, he clears his throat and thanks the heavens for the fact that Eddie has already left.

'Ready to go?' he asks.

They head into the woods and Wayne leads the way as they stray further from the trailer park. Their feet easily find a rhythm that feels natural to both of them, avoiding the bigger puddles on the path and stopping every now and then to admire toadstools, dewy cobwebs, and fallen leaves in beautiful colors.

As they make their way around Lover's Lake, Wayne ponders what exactly the difference is between what Eddie would call a hangout, and a date. He doesn't exactly have a lot of friends who he hangs out with. He has his colleagues at the plant, of course, who he'd always kept at a distance, which proved him right when they were all too ready to come for his Eddie last March. He has some neighbors he's friendly with; he helps them with a thing or two around their trailers and in return they share a beer or a smoke with him. But he wouldn't call that real friendship either. He has learned long ago how dangerous it can be to let people come too close. Some people only wanted certain things from him, others would judge him when they'd find out a thing too many about him. And the pain of losing a rare, true friend became all too clear to him back in Vietnam.

After that, he mainly stuck to himself. And then it became him and Eddie against the world. He never needed anyone else. He was good at being alone, after all. There was a certain level of comfort to be found in loneliness.

So this thing with Scott – whatever it is – is not something he can compare to anything else. The only thing he knows is that it's definitely not lonely. And that he doesn't want to mess it up and lose the only true friend he's had in decades.

'What's on your mind?' Scott asks when they sit down on a fallen tree at the edge of the lake to enjoy their coffee. 'You've been quiet.'

'I'm always quiet,' Wayne points out.

It makes Scott chuckle softly before he takes a sip of his coffee.

'Not as quiet as you think,' Scott says. 'Today, you're thinking loudly. I can almost hear your thoughts.'

Wayne carefully places his own mug on the tree, then grabs himself a cigarette and lights it, all to buy himself some time. But even after a long drag and another sip of coffee, he still doesn't quite know how to voice his thoughts.

'Was just admirin' the fall colors,' he decides to say instead, when the silence starts taking too long.

He can practically feel Scott's eyes on his face as he stubbornly stares over the water in front of them.

'It really is the perfect day to do that,' Scott finally says. Apparently he has decided he'll let Wayne get away with it this time. Or maybe it isn't like that. Maybe he decided that he'll allow Wayne the time he needs to sort out his thoughts before he can voice them. Maybe he understands that Wayne sometimes needs a while before he's ready to talk about things. Maybe he decided that he didn't want to intrude. Maybe he decided that he values spending time with Wayne, no matter if they're talking or sitting in silence. And maybe this fall will be a little less cold than the ones Wayne has gotten used to, because when he risks a glance towards his left, he sees Scott wearing a smile that's appreciative of the nature around them. It's a smile that warms Wayne from the inside, in a way that the heater in his trailer has never managed to do.

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 18/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Something that could count as rape, Smut, Language, kinda cheating, dominant Ben, Ben being Ben - WELL, HE´S A WARNING HIMSELF

Word Count: 6158

A/N: This is part 18 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As the rest of the team returned home, Annie took it upon herself to search for you, knocking softly on Ben's door.

"Hey, have you seen (Y/N)?", she called out, her voice muffled through the wooden door. "I've been looking for her everywhere".

Ben's annoyed groan reverberated through the room as he responded to Annie's inquiry. "Fuck off, she's sleeping", he barked, his voice louder than intended, causing you to shift slightly in his arms.

Annie frowned at his curt response, concern evident in her voice. "Is everything okay in there?", she asked, her tone tinged with worry.

Ben sighed, his irritation palpable as he gently brushed your hair to soothe you back to sleep. "She's fine, just exhausted", he muttered, his voice low and gruff. "Now, if you don't mind, I suggest you fucking leave before I tear you apart".

Annie recoiled slightly at his threat, but she knew better than to push further. She backed away from the door, leaving you and Ben in peace.

Ben stubbed out his joint, his movements careful as he stood up with you cradled in his arms. With a soft grunt, he made his way over to his bed, settling you down gently on the mattress before tucking the blankets around you snugly.

Ben pulled on just some sweatpants before heading out to the kitchen, leaving you sleeping peacefully in his room. In the hallway, he found Annie and Hughie, who had been eagerly awaiting his return.

“What?”, Ben snapped, his tone dripping with irritation as he glared at them.

Annie raised an eyebrow at his hostility. “Just checking on (Y/N)”, she replied calmly. “We heard some commotion earlier”.

Ben scoffed, his lips twisting into a sneer. “She’s fine”, he retorted dismissively. “Now get out of my sight before I decide to do something you’ll regret”.

Hughie exchanged a worried glance with Annie, sensing the tension in the air. “We just wanted to make sure everything’s okay”, he added, his voice hesitant.

Ben’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I said she’s fine”, he growled, his patience wearing thin.

Annie couldn't help but match Ben's attitude with her own. "Geez, Ben, no need to be such a grump", she retorted. "We're just trying to make sure our friend is okay. If that's too much for you to handle, maybe you should take a chill pill".

Ben's jaw clenched at her sass, but before he could respond, Hughie stepped in, trying to diffuse the tension. "Come on, Annie, let's give him some space", he suggested. "We'll check in with (Y/N) later".

With that, Annie and Hughie turned around, leaving Ben alone with his thoughts and his simmering anger.

Ben grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the kitchen before retreating back to his bedroom. He took a seat in his chair, propped his feet up on his desk, and started to drink, his gaze fixed on your small, naked body sleeping peacefully on his bed, wrapped in his sheets.

As he watched you, a mixture of emotions flooded through him—anger, desire, protectiveness. He took a swig of whiskey, the burn of alcohol easing the tension in his muscles as he tried to make sense of his conflicting feelings.

Despite his gruff exterior, deep down, Ben couldn't deny the sense of warmth that washed over him as he watched you sleep. You may drive him crazy at times, but there was something about the sight of you, vulnerable and innocent in slumber, that stirred something inside him.

He took another sip of whiskey, the amber liquid warming him from the inside out as he allowed himself a rare moment of quiet reflection, his eyes never leaving your form as you slept soundly in his bed.

As you stirred awake, a cold shiver ran down your spine, pulling you out of your slumber. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you rubbed your eyes and glanced around the room, feeling the chill of the air against your naked skin. The blanket that had once covered you was now barely clinging to your body, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

Your gaze fell upon Ben, who sat in his chair with a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. His eyes were fixed on you, his expression unreadable as he watched you stir.

A sense of unease washed over you as you realized you were practically naked in front of him, your body exposed to his intense scrutiny. You quickly reached for the blanket, pulling it up to cover yourself as best as you could, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping into your cheeks.

"Ben?", you called out softly, your voice tinged with uncertainty as you met his gaze.

"Mhmm?", Ben mumbled, tearing his gaze away from your body to meet your eyes.

You sat up slightly, your movements slow and labored, exhaustion evident in every line of your body. With a voice barely above a whisper, you spoke, your words barely audible due to the soreness in your throat.

"Why are you still awake?", you asked.

Ben's jaw clenched slightly as he regarded you, his expression unreadable. "Couldn't sleep", he grumbled, his tone gruff.

You bit your lip, a nervous habit in the presence of his intense gaze. "Come to bed, Ben", you whispered.

But he shook his head, his jaw still tight. "I'll stay here", he replied curtly, his voice betraying none of the emotions swirling inside him.

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in your bones as you stood up slowly, the blanket still draped around you. With determined steps, you made your way over to where Ben sat, his eyes following your every move.

Gently, you reached out and took the bottle from his hand, placing it aside as you stood between his legs, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

Ben's hand sneaked under the blanket, pulling it lazily aside to get a perfect view of your naked body. His eyes trailed over your skin, and he couldn't help but notice the blue bruises covering your hip bones, evidence of his roughness from earlier.

His thumb brushed over the marks as he held you by your hip, feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin. Without a word, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him, and pressed your naked breasts against his stomach as you hugged him tightly.

"I'm cold", you whispered softly, your voice barely audible as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Ben didn't push you away, but he didn't exactly reciprocate the hug either. He tolerated your actions, his body tense beneath yours as you sought warmth in his embrace.

"You should go back to sleep", he muttered. "I'll be fine".

You sighed softly, knowing it was pointless to argue with him. You could sense the underlying turmoil within him, and you wished there was something you could do to ease his burden.

"I'm not leaving you alone", you insisted quietly, your arms still wrapped around him. "Not when you're like this".

Ben's jaw tightened at your words, but he didn't protest. He simply sat there, allowing you to hold onto him.

You chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, your radioactive chest does have its perks", you teased, a faint smile playing on your lips. "Like providing me with some much-needed warmth".

Ben huffed a small laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Guess it's good for something", he conceded.

You settled against him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you.

As you drifted back to sleep, Ben lay an arm around you, pulling the blanket over your back, his touch gentle despite the weight of his exhaustion. He let out a heavy sigh.

After a while, Ben carefully lifted you from his lap, cradling you in his arms as he carried you back to the bed. With a tenderness that belied his usual demeanor, he laid you down gently on the mattress, ensuring you were comfortable before joining you.

Curling up beside you, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest.

With a final sigh, he closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift into a deep and much-needed sleep, knowing that you were safe and sound by his side.

The next morning, you stirred awake to find Ben still sleeping soundly beside you. His features softened in slumber, the lines of tension from the previous night smoothed out in the light of morning.

You couldn't help but admire the peaceful expression on his face, a stark contrast to his usual hardened exterior. With a small smile, you gently brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead, watching as he shifted slightly in his sleep, but didn't wake.

You carefully slipped out of bed, pulling one of Ben's shirts over your body for modesty as you made your way out of his room, trying not to disturb his peaceful slumber. The fabric hung loose around your frame, offering a sense of comfort as you tiptoed out of the room, leaving him to rest undisturbed.

You ran into Hughie and Annie in the hallway, who seemed relieved to see you up and about.

“Hey, (Y/N), everything okay?”, Hughie asked, his tone laced with concern.

You nodded, feeling a slight tremor in your hands as you spoke. "Yeah, I'm feeling much better now", you replied, your voice still hoarse. "Ben actually took great care of me".

Annie and Hughie exchanged surprised glances, clearly not expecting to hear that. "Really?", Annie asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

You nodded again, offering them a small smile. "Yeah, really", you affirmed, hoping they would drop the subject.

As you stood there in the hallway, Annie and Hughie seemed to be processing your words, their expressions a mix of surprise and confusion.

Annie spoke up first, her tone still skeptical. "Well, I guess that's a surprise", she remarked.

Hughie nodded slowly, seeming unsure of what to make of the situation. "Yeah, I guess so", he murmured, his gaze shifting between you and Annie.

You could sense their disbelief, but you knew what had transpired between you and Ben. Despite everything, he saved you.

You shifted slightly, feeling the need to break the tension in the air. "Anyway, I think I'm going to go take a shower", you announced.

Annie nodded, her expression still wary. "Yeah, sounds like a good idea", she replied, her tone cautious.

With a nod, you headed towards the bathroom, leaving Annie and Hughie behind in the hallway.

As you stood in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on breakfast, you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway. You turned to see Ben emerging from his room, his presence immediately catching Butcher's attention.

Butcher's gaze narrowed as he watched Ben enter the kitchen, his expression unreadable.

You tried to act normal, offering a casual "Good morning, Ben", but he only grumbled in response, grabbing a pancake before retreating back to his room.

Butcher raised an eyebrow at Ben's behavior, then turned his attention to you and Annie. "What's up with him?", he asked, his tone suspicious.

You shrugged, exchanging a glance with Annie. "Who knows?", you replied, trying to brush it off. "He's probably just not a morning person".

Annie nodded in agreement, though her expression hinted at concern. "Yeah, probably", she added, though her eyes lingered on Ben's closed door.

As Butcher scrutinized Ben, he remarked, "His mood's worse than usual".

MM chimed in, "Yeah, he's always a prick, but today he's on another level".

As everyone began to eat, the conversation turned to the urgent matter at hand: finding Homelander. Ideas and strategies were tossed around the table as pancakes disappeared from the plates.

Butcher took the lead, outlining a plan that involved gathering more intel and coordinating with their allies. Hughie and Annie listened intently, offering their insights and suggestions.

As the night settled in and everyone drifted off to sleep, you found yourself unable to shake the unease that had settled over you since Ben's distant behavior earlier in the day. With a quiet resolve, you made your way to his room.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you reached his door, and you hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock softly, hoping he would hear you.

The door creaked open, revealing Ben standing there, his expression more annoyed than you had ever seen it. "What?", he grumbled, his tone sharp with irritation.

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat at his harsh demeanor. "I-I just wanted to check on you", you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben's scowl softened slightly at your words, but his irritation still lingered. "I'm fine", he muttered curtly but stepping back to let you into the room.

You hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, feeling a sense of unease settling over you in the tense atmosphere. "Are you sure?", you asked softly.

Ben's jaw clenched as he turned away from you and reached for his joint on the desk.

"I said I'm fine", he snapped and lit up the joint, inhaling deeply before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

You watched him silently, unsure of how to proceed in the face of his hostility.

Ben glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he noticed you still standing there.

"What are you waiting for?", he sneered. "You gonna keep standing there looking stupid, or are you gonna do something useful and get naked?".

You were taken aback by his blunt request, but you tried to overplay it with a hint of sarcasm.

"Wow, Ben, you really know how to charm a girl", you muttered, your tone laced with irritation. "There are definitely more romantic ways to start this".

You tried to keep your voice steady, masking the slight hint of anger bubbling beneath the surface.

Ben chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Romantic, huh? You think I give a fuck about romance?", he retorted. "Just get on with it or get out".

You bristled at his dismissive attitude, but you knew arguing with him would only make things worse. With a resigned sigh, you began to undress, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation settling in the pit of your stomach.

As you stripped off your clothes, Ben's gaze remained fixed on you.

Once you were completely naked, you stood before him, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his gaze. "Happy now?", you muttered.

Ben's lips curled into a smirk, his eyes darkening with desire. "Ecstatic", he replied sarcastically. "Now get over here".

Reluctantly, you approached him.

Ben leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you approach. "Get on your knees", he ordered, his voice commanding.

You hesitated for a moment, your throat still sore from the previous night's rough encounter. "Ben, my throat…", you whimpered softly.

"I don't care", he replied curtly. "You wanted to be here, now do as you're told".

Reluctantly, you sank to your knees before him, feeling a sense of resignation wash over you.

As you knelt before him, Ben's expression darkened, his impatience evident as he watched you. With a rough gesture, he grabbed your hair, pulling you closer to him.

"Open your mouth", he commanded.

You complied, parting your lips to accommodate him, feeling a mixture of apprehension and resignation washing over you, as he guided himself into your mouth.

With a determined effort to ignore the pain in your throat, you began to suck him, your lips wrapping tightly around his hardness. You focused on the rhythmic movement, trying to find a rhythm that pleased him. His grip tightened on your hair, guiding your movements as he groaned softly in satisfaction.

Despite the discomfort, you did your best to pleasure him, swirling your tongue around his shaft and taking him deeper into your mouth with each stroke. You could feel him growing harder in response, his breaths becoming ragged as pleasure coursed through his body.

"Keep going", Ben instructed, his voice low and husky as he took a drag from his joint, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "Don't stop".

You nodded obediently, your focus solely on pleasing him as you continued to work your mouth along his length. The smell of his smoke mixed with the scent of his arousal, filling the air around you as you lost yourself in the task at hand.

As you continued to suck him, you used your tongue to swirl around his shaft, alternating between gentle licks and more insistent strokes. You took him deep into your mouth, feeling the weight of him on your tongue as you moved back and forth.

Meanwhile, Ben leaned back in his chair, his eyes closed in bliss as he enjoyed the sensation of your mouth on him. He took another drag from his joint, the smoke curling lazily around him as he savored the sensation of your lips and tongue.

With a rough tug, Ben pulled you to your feet, his grip firm as he turned you to face his desk. As he pushed you down, your torso laying on the surface, he stubbed out the joint with a grunt.

"Enough of that", he growled. "Time for the real fun".

You braced yourself against the desk, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension coursing through you.

Ben, in no mood for gentleness, swiftly pulled down his sweatpants.

With a forceful thrust, Ben entered you roughly, causing you to yank forward and emit a sharp whine of discomfort.

"Take it", he growled.

As Ben squeezed your already bruised hips, you couldn't help but whimper again, the pain shooting through your body like a jolt of electricity.

"Fuck", he muttered, his grip tightening as he began to move with relentless force.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle another whimper, as the intensity of his thrusts sent waves of discomfort and pleasure coursing through you.

"Ben, please", you gasped, the discomfort becoming unbearable as your hipbones met the edge of the desk with each of his forceful thrusts. "Slow down".

But Ben ignored your plea, his movements growing even more aggressive as he continued to pound into you.

"Ben, I said slow down!", you exclaimed, your voice tinged with frustration and pain. "You're hurting me".

But Ben only grunted in response.

You clenched your teeth, trying to endure the discomfort as best as you could, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to bear.

"Ben, please", you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion. "I can't take it like this. Slow down".

His grip on your hips tightened even more, and you winced at the added pressure.

But this time, your words seemed to break through his trance. He paused, his expression clouded with irritation.

"Stop whining", he snapped. "You wanted this, didn't you?".

Your heart sank at his callous words, the pain in your body matching the ache in your heart.

Using the moment of pause, you summoned all your strength to push him away, shoving him back with all your might. He stumbled backward, surprise flickering across his face as he caught sight of your teary eyes and trembling legs.

“What the fuck?”, he exclaimed, his tone incredulous as he regained his balance.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Ben!”, you snapped, your voice laced with anger and frustration.

As you quickly began to dress yourself, your hands shaking with anger and hurt, Ben followed suit.

"What's your fucking problem?", he growled, his voice dripping with irritation.

“I’m serious, Ben”, you said firmly, your voice trembling with emotion. “If I tell you to stop or to slow down, you have to listen!”.

Ben scoffed, his expression darkening with disdain. “You think you can tell me what to do?”, he retorted.

“What the hell is wrong with you today?”, you demanded, frustration boiling beneath the surface of your words.

Ben’s jaw clenched, his gaze hardening as he met your eyes. “Nothing’s wrong with me”, he snapped.

"You hurt me, Ben!", you exclaimed, your voice tinged with both anger and hurt.

Without another word, Ben stormed out of the room, leaving you standing there, feeling a mix of frustration and betrayal. After a moment of hesitation, you gathered your things and left the his room.

About an hour later, Annie knocked at your door just as you snuggled under your blanket, trying to find some comfort after the tense encounter with Ben.

"Hey, (Y/N), are you okay?", Annie's voice sounded concerned through the door.

You sighed heavily, feeling drained from the emotional rollercoaster of the day. "Yeah, I'm fine", you replied, your voice muffled by the blanket. "Just had a little disagreement with Ben, that's all".

Annie's voice was filled with sympathy. "I heard you yelling", she said softly. "Do you want to talk about it?".

You hesitated for a moment before responding. "No, it's okay", you said, your voice shivering slightly. "I just need some time alone".

Annie paused for a moment before responding. "Alright, but if you need anything, I'm here", she said reassuringly. "Take care of yourself, okay?".

As you curled up under the blanket, the events of the day replayed in your mind like a relentless loop.

Anger, frustration, and hurt swirled within you, making it difficult to find peace. Ben's dismissive attitude and rough treatment lingered in your thoughts, leaving you feeling vulnerable and betrayed.

As Ben made his way to the next strip club, his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The events of the evening with you lingered in the back of his mind, but he pushed them aside, seeking distraction in the familiar chaos of the club. The dim lights, pounding music, and scantily clad dancers provided a temporary escape from his troubles, allowing him to lose himself in the moment.

Ben settled into a plush couch in the front row, his eyes scanning the stage as the music pulsed through the club. The air was thick with anticipation, and he relished the freedom to indulge his desires without restraint. The supes on stage moved with an otherworldly grace, their movements captivating and hypnotic.

As the first dancer approached, Ben's gaze locked onto her, his jaw tensing with anticipation. Here, in the midst of the exotic and alluring, he could forget about everything else, if only for a fleeting moment.

As a girl approached him, her eyes lighting up with recognition, a sultry smile played on her lips. She moved closer, her body swaying with a mesmerizing rhythm as she leaned in towards Ben.

"Soldier Boy", she purred, her voice low and seductive. "What can I do for you tonight?".

Ben's lips curved into a smirk as he looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her curves. "Just entertain me", he replied, his voice laced with a hint of command. "Show me what you can do".

The supe girl nodded eagerly, her movements becoming even more enticing as she danced before him, eager to please him in every way possible.

The girl moved closer to Ben, her body swaying in time with the music as she straddled his lap. Her hands traced tantalizing patterns along his chest, sending shivers down his spine as she leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear.

With practiced precision, she began to grind against him, her movements fluid and hypnotic. Each sway of her hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through him, his senses overwhelmed by the sensation of her soft skin against his.

As the music pulsed around them, the supe girl's movements grew more intense, her hands roaming boldly over his body as she pressed herself against him.

The girl leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered seductively, "You know, Soldier Boy, I can give you so much more backstage… I want you to fuck me… hard".

Her words sent a surge of desire coursing through Ben's veins as he looked into her eyes, his own dark with anticipation. "Lead the way", he growled, his voice low and husky with desire.

With a sultry smile, the supe girl took his hand and led him towards the backstage area, her hips swaying enticingly as she walked. Ben followed eagerly, his mind racing with anticipation of what was to come.

Feeling discomfort coursing through your body, you struggled to find a comfortable position in bed. With little whimpers escaping your lips, you decided to get up and make your way to the bathroom, hoping to find some relief from the pain.

Each step was a reminder of the soreness between your legs, making you wince with every movement.

Once in the bathroom, you searched for some pain relief, hoping it would ease the throbbing ache between your legs.

You rummaged through the medicine cabinet until you found a tube of soothing cream.

With careful movements, you applied the cream to your sore flesh, wincing slightly at the tender touch. The cool relief it provided was a welcome sensation. Closing your eyes, you leaned back against the bathroom counter, hoping that the cream would bring some relief and allow you to finally get some rest.

As your eyes flickered to your bruised hipbones reflected in the mirror, the sight made you wince, a fresh wave of discomfort washing over you. You couldn't help but wonder why Ben had acted the way he did, his roughness leaving both physical and emotional marks on you.

Sighing softly, you leaned closer to the mirror, studying your reflection as if searching for answers. But the reflection staring back at you offered no solace, only a silent reminder of the pain and confusion swirling inside you. Closing your eyes briefly, you pushed aside the troubling thoughts, focusing instead on the present moment and the hope that the cream would bring some relief.

As Ben was pushed lightly into the makeup room backstage, the girl's grin widened, her eyes flickering with excitement.

"You ready for some fun, Soldier Boy?", she purred.

Ben's lips curved into a smirk as he leaned closer to her, his gaze smoldering with desire. "I'm always ready", he replied, his voice thick with anticipation.

The girl wasted no time taking the lead, her movements fluid and enticing as she closed the distance between them. She pressed her body against his, the heat of her skin igniting a primal desire within him.

"You like what you see, Soldier Boy?", she teased, her hands trailing over his chest with a playful smirk.

Ben's breath hitched as he felt her touch, a low growl escaping his lips. "I like it a lot", he admitted.

With a primal growl, Ben tore away the scanty garments that barely covered the supe´s body, his desire consuming him as he pushed her roughly onto her knees. With swift movements, he stripped off his own pants and boxers, his throbbing member springing free, ready for action.

With practiced ease, the girl took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft effortlessly. Her tongue danced skillfully around him, eliciting groans of pleasure from Ben as she expertly pleasured him. Her eyes remained locked with his, a look of intense desire burning in her gaze as she worked him with expert precision.

Despite the girl's impressive skills, Ben found it difficult to shake the image of you from his mind. Groaning with frustration, he pulled her up, his hands gripping her hips firmly as he pushed her against the wall. Her ass was on full display, and she eagerly pushed her hips back, wiggling her ass enticingly as she waited for him to take her from behind.

Ben's grip tightened on her hips as he positioned himself behind her, his cock throbbing with need. With a primal growl, he thrust into her with force, causing her to gasp in pleasure.

"You like it rough, huh?", he grunted, his voice husky with desire as he pounded into her relentlessly.

She moaned in response, her hands bracing against the wall as she pushed back against him, meeting his every thrust with equal fervor.

"You're so big", she whimpered, her voice filled with ecstasy as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of him filling her completely.

Ben's movements became more aggressive, his pace quickening as he drove himself deeper into her, the sound of their bodies colliding echoing through the room.

"You want it harder?", he growled. She nodded eagerly, her desire matching his own as she begged for more.

As the supe moaned loudly, her voice echoing like something out of a porno, Ben couldn’t help but feel annoyed by the exaggerated display. Her exaggerated noises grated on his nerves, reminding him of what he truly craved – the soft, genuine whimpers and moans that escaped your lips.

Despite her enthusiastic performance, Ben found himself longing for the raw, authentic connection he shared with you. He missed the way your body responded to his touch, the way your breath hitched and your skin flushed with desire.

Ben tried to shake off his thoughts and feelings, focusing instead on the supe beneath him. With a determined grunt, he began to fuck her harder, his movements rough and relentless as he sought to drown out the memories of you.

As he thrust into her with increasing intensity, the girl's moans grew even louder, her body trembling with pleasure. But despite his efforts to lose himself in the moment, Ben couldn't shake the nagging feeling of discontent that gnawed at him from within.

Her legs began to shake, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she struggled to keep up with his relentless pace.

"You like that, huh?", Ben grunted. "You're just a filthy little slut, aren't you?".

The supe girl moaned in response, her nails digging into the wall as she surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of him filling her completely.

The supe girl's pleas filled the room as she begged Ben to go harder, her voice a desperate melody of desire and ecstasy.

"You want it harder?", Ben growled, his grip on her hips tightening as he driving himself deeper into her with each powerful thrust.

With a mixture of pain and pleasure, the supe girl cried out, her body trembling with the force of his movements as she surrendered completely to the overwhelming sensation.

Ben grunted in frustration as he struggled to reach his peak, his movements becoming more aggressive with each passing moment. With a growl of annoyance, he resorted to using more force, his hand coming down hard on the supe girl's ass, leaving a red mark in its wake.

Despite his efforts, Ben found himself unable to release, the nagging feeling of dissatisfaction lingering in the back of his mind.

With a final grunt of effort, Ben finally reached his climax, his release spilling forth as he pulled out abruptly. Without a word, he turned the supe girl around forcefully, pushing her down to the ground.

"Take it", he growled, his voice rough with exertion as he unleashed his pent-up frustration, his hot seed splattering across her face in thick, white ropes.

The supe girl gasped as she felt the warm liquid coating her skin, her eyes wide with surprise and arousal as she looked up at Ben.

"Fuck", she breathed, a mixture of excitement and satisfaction in her voice as she licked her lips.

As Ben pulled up his jeans, his mind still swirling with thoughts of you, he couldn't help but let out a scoff of disdain.

"You're lucky I even bothered", he muttered, his tone dripping with arrogance as he looked down at the supe girl beneath him. "Most girls would kill for a chance like that".

The supe girl bristled at his words, a hint of indignation flickering in her eyes as she scrambled to her feet.

"Whatever you say, Soldier Boy", she shot back, her tone defiant as she straightened her clothes.

Ben rolled his eyes, dismissing her with a wave of his hand as he turned to leave the room.

As Ben's mind continued to revolve around you, he pushed open the door to the apartment, his steps heavy with uncertainty. Despite his anger and frustration, a part of him longed for the familiar comfort of your presence.

Quietly, he made his way towards your room, his heart pounding. He hesitated for a moment before opening the door and stepping inside, his eyes searching the room for any sign of you.

Ben's gaze softened as he spotted you curled up in the sheets, sound asleep. Relief flooded through him, momentarily easing the tension in his muscles. He stood there for a moment, watching you sleep, a mixture of emotions swirling inside him.

As Ben watched you sleep, a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions churned within him. He couldn't deny the fierce care and affection he felt for you, a feeling that surpassed anything he'd ever experienced before. Yet, at the same time, he grappled with a sense of frustration and self-doubt, unable to fully express his emotions in the way he desired.

Despite his tough exterior, deep down, Ben knew that he cared for you more than just for the physical connection you shared. It unsettled him, this vulnerability, this longing for something more meaningful than just casual encounters. In his mind, he felt like a fucking pussy for allowing himself to feel so deeply, for admitting that he wanted more than just the physical intimacy you provided.

He needed to calm down and distract himself somehow. Somehow he had to let his feelings out and he did it in his own way. In the only way he knew how. Sex. Rough sex.

With a heavy sigh, Ben turned away, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He knew he couldn't keep denying his true feelings for you, but the fear of vulnerability held him back, trapping him in a cycle of frustration and longing.

The next day, Hughie took charge of breakfast, bustling around the kitchen as he prepared a hearty meal for everyone. The aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee filled the air, coaxing you out of your slumber.

As you entered the kitchen, the sight of Hughie's culinary efforts brought a smile to your face. Despite the tension that had lingered in the air after last night's events, it was reassuring to see everyone coming together for a morning meal.

Butcher's gaze lingered on you as you entered the kitchen, his brow furrowing in concern. "Why are you walking so funny?", he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

Just then, Ben joined the kitchen, his presence causing a subtle shift in the atmosphere. His eyes briefly met yours before he turned his attention to Hughie's cooking.

Ben watched you closely as you made your way to a free chair, your movements slow and deliberate. He couldn't help but notice the slight stiffness in your gait, a subtle indication of discomfort. However, you did your best to act as though everything was normal, masking any signs of pain.

Butcher grinned mischievously. "What's the matter, (Y/N)? Got a little too adventurous last night?", he teased, a playful smirk playing on his lips.

Frenchie glanced at Ben, his expression unreadable as he observed him closely.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, embarrassment flooding through you as Butcher's words hit their mark.

"Uh, no, nothing like that", you stammered, trying to play it cool despite the blush creeping across your face.

Annie's keen eyes caught the subtle tension between you and Ben as he took a seat beside you.

"So, what's the plan for today?", she asked casually, though her eyes remained fixed on the two of you.

Butcher's voice cut through the tense atmosphere, drawing everyone's attention. "Homelander is back at vought", he announced, his tone resolute.

Ben's gaze snapped up at the mention of Homelander, a glint of determination in his eyes. The memory of what Homelander did to you fueled his desire for revenge, his jaw clenching at the thought.

As thoughts of Homelander raced through your mind, your heart began to pound with a mix of fear and anger. Sensing your unease, Ben subtly reached under the table and rested his warm hand on your thigh, offering a silent reassurance without needing to exchange words.

———————————

A/N: Well, I know it´s a lot, but please don´t hate me ._.

-

Part 19

-

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy @jackles010378 @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles @sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl @emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444 @seasonofthenerd @staple-your-mouth @artemys-ackles @selfdestructionandrhum @mystic-mara

[shartletswritings]

You've Dug Your Own Grave

CHAPTER 2: Welcome Home

Summary:

Ekko shows you around the hideout in an attempt to get you to join the Firelights. Can you leave behind your past for a new life? Or will it continue to haunt you once you agree to commit yourself to taking down corruption in Zaun?

Notes:

Ahhhh!! I am oh so obsessed with writing for this series. I do hope you all still enjoy this chapter; there isn't a ton of Scar content and for that I apologize, but there is a LOT coming in the next few chapters!! Very minor TW for (past) body mutilation

As promised, you are awoken by a sharp rap on the door. It takes you a moment to get a handle on your surroundings; nothing makes sense for several minutes and it certainly doesn’t help that you’re in a windowless room, unable to tell the time of day. Another knock and an unfamiliar voice calling your name jumpstarts your brain.

            “Yeah! Sorry.” You place your bare feet on the wooden floor, the chill that rockets up your legs helps to ground you. Stumbling to put on your discarded pants, you call out to the door, “One second!” You pop your head into the bathroom to assess your hair and face, it’s been worse, and really, for abduction victim standards, I’d say I look pretty damn good, you think.

            Opening the door you find yourself face to face with a young woman with a stern expression. “Let’s go,” she says. If you were a bit more awake perhaps you would have had something witty to say, but you don’t. You’re just hungry and tired and confused; yesterday still doesn’t feel quite real. As if on cue, your stomach lets out a low rumble. She ignores the sound and starts walking down the hallway, you follow wordlessly.

            The route she walks is different than last night, you think, but it’s just as confusing. “Where are we going?” You finally say after a few minutes of following her like a lost dog.

            “Ekko.” She looks back at you, her brown eyes looking you up and down as if she just remembered you’re here, “you don’t need to look so tense.” Instinctively you roll your shoulders and unclench your jaw, you didn’t even realize you were tense. You flash her a small smile and she turns her head forward to keep walking. She isn’t that much older than you are, but she looks like she could probably kill you with her bare hands if she wanted. Her strength is different from what you saw in Scar last night though; where his is natural and almost animalistic, you can see through the way she carries her body that she worked hard for her abilities. It doesn’t take much to decide, knowing literally nothing about her, that you like her.

            “What’s your name?” You finally ask.

She turns back for a moment, one red eyebrow arched. She answers you after she’s facing forward again, “Eve.” The only acknowledgement you offer is a small hum. The rest of the walk is silent.

The two of you eventually arrive back at the room from last night and you suspect that Eve took a longer route than Scar did because the walk felt twice as long. The room looks much better in the bright glow of the sunlight—something you practically never see among the smog of the undercity—and you find yourself drawn to all the contraptions littering the surfaces of the room. Stacks of journals and diagrams, metal scraps, plants propagating in jars of water; you realize it’s a workshop of sorts. Ekko turns towards the sound of the door opening, his eyes glinting. “Good to see you,” his voice is just as enthusiastic as yesterday, “but before we talk, I wanna show you around.”

“See ya,” Eve says from behind you, her voice still monotone.

“Thanks, Eve. Hey, would you mind letting Geo know I had some luck with the transistor? I’ll have his board for him at dinner.” She gives him a quick nod and leaves, closing the door behind her. “How did you sleep? Do you need anything?”

You look down at your clothes that are still covered in ash from the fire but decide not to push your luck. They may have had a shower, but something tells you that clean clothes are a bit of a stretch. “Yah no, I’m okay.”

“Good,” he looks down at your clothes then back to your face, “Come on, I’ll take you outside.” That glint in his eyes you saw before is back: mischievous and boyish but completely certain as well. He takes you to a small balcony connected to his workshop.

Stepping out into the sun, you can’t help but gasp at what you see. The balcony looks down on a large courtyard of sorts and you can see people milling about on the ground. Small paintings and banners stream around the area, making even the air around you feel alive. The color is what you notice most; more color than you think you have ever seen in your life. Even the markets in Piltover couldn’t rivel the environment around you. Looking up you realize you are, in fact, facing the trunk of a massive tree, larger than you thought possible. “How… how is all of this here? Are we still in Zaun?” You turn to Ekko, your questions nearly breathless.

He is smiling down at you, “It’s pretty great, isn’t it? None of us could believe it the first time we found it either. But life found a way, even down here in the sewers.”

            The shrill cry of a child brings your attention back to the ground below you where three kids run together, screaming in laughter. A smile breaks on your face despite the sting of envy that hits your heart. “This is incredible, Ekko. I had… no idea all of this could happen down here.”

            “Why don’t I take you down? We can meet some people.” You nod your head.

            The awe you felt on the balcony continues to bubble up as you walk around, and you find it difficult to try and take in everything at once. The children you saw earlier run past you in a blur and you turn to watch them as they round the corner and disappear out of sight. You keep pace with Ekko who also seems to be amazed at what he sees despite his obvious position as leader. That’s a good quality, it means he’s invested, you think, before realizing just how seriously you are already considering his offer. You still have no idea what he thinks you’ll be doing for the firelights.

            Turning a corner you look up to see a massive mural painted onto a structure near the base of the tree. You stop dead in your tracks, once again out of breath at the beauty of what you see. The painting is comprised of dozens of faces and portraits of various people. “It’s gorgeous,” you whisper, “who are they?”

            “All the people we lost,” Ekko’s voice is wistful but still steady. He turns to you, “Come on, were almost there.” You follow, not taking your gaze from the mural until it is finally out of sight.

            He stops near a small tent; the front flap is cut off so it’s really more of a roof and three walls. Inside, several firelights are sitting and chatting, each one wearing a mask of a different animal on their belts like Scar. The various conversations stop as soon as Ekko walks over, each Firelight looking at him expectantly. He introduces you and suddenly all sets of eyes move to you. Feeling your face heat up you swallow, looking to Ekko for help. He flashes you the smallest of smiles before running through a list of their names, almost every single one leaves your mind as soon as you hear it, but you manage to catch a couple. A few of them move in acknowledgement as their name is listed off and the rest simply stare with a bored expression.

            Finally, thankfully, one of them speaks up. “Hope you’re not too bruised up. You were screaming so bad when we were taking you back, I was worried half the city would follow us home,” her voice is deep, not matching the gentle expression on her face. The crow shaped mask on her hip shifts as she stands up to properly assess you.

            “Uh… oh, no. It’s okay. I probably would have done the same thing,” you offer her an awkward smile and run a hand through your hair. She must be the one responsible for the knock to your stomach last night; you had forgotten about that injury entirely thanks to the throbbing bump on your head. You already like her better than Scar.

            She flashes a set of perfectly white teeth and claps the hand Ekko has outstretched, pulling him into a forceful hug. “This is Malia, she’s one of our soldiers. She also painted most of that mural you saw.”

            You gaze at her with wide eyes, suddenly feeling like a child. “He gives me too much credit,” she pushes into his side with her shoulder, beaming down at you, “Ekko did almost all of it, I just helped where I could.” Malia turns back to Ekko, “So, is she in yet?”

            Ekko shakes his head, “Nah… still workin on that.”

            “Shame,” she looks you up and down once more, “You seem like you could be helpful.”

            Malia and Ekko chat for a few more moments and you let yourself gaze around, still marveling at the amount of life and joy in this sewer. Even the air smells sweet, especially compared to the regular Zaun murk you breathe in every day: Pilties would probably still wear their stupid masks.

            A looming, gray form standing near the tree grabs your attention. Scar. He doesn’t notice you immediately, his gaze focused on the bundle of fabric in his arms. Is that a child? You squint your eyes to see what it is. He rocks himself softly back and forth, one clawed finger reaching down towards the bundle. When a small, gray hand reaches up to grab at his finger you realize it is, in fact, a baby. Scar smiles down at the child, his green eyes lighting up, and you feel that same pinch of envy.

            “He doesn’t seem the type, does he?” Ekko caught you staring. You turn back towards the two firelights.

            “No… is that his kid? Or just some baby he also decided to kidnap?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant it to.

Malia laughs, “I see you know Scar well enough already, then? Don’t let him scare you away from us, alright? He can be a dick, but he means well. We all do.” You hum in acknowledgement, glancing back at Scar who has turned his back to you and is now talking to a group of older children gathered around his feet.

Ekko begins to leave, you turn to follow him before Malia calls out your name, “See ya ‘round?” You offer a smile in response and turn to catch up with Ekko.

He gives you a quick walk-through of the Firelight ‘hideout’ as he calls it, stopping to greet several people along the way. As you expected, you only manage to remember a couple names, but at least people seem friendlier and eager to meet you. Eventually the two of you return to his workshop. He invites you to sit and you gladly accept, still slightly woozy from last night.

“So? Whaddya think?” His voice is hopeful.

“I think you’ve got a great place,” you fold your arms over your chest, “but I still don’t understand why you want me.”

He hums in thought and places an elbow on the table next to him, “Most of what we do involves interrupting the shimmer trade, right?” You nod and he continues, “You… obviously have some experience with shimmer and while I can’t let you involve yourself with that process any longer, I do think it’s a shame to see such a strong talent go to waste,” he cracks mischievous smile.

            “What, you want me for intel?”

            “Yes and no. You are clearly able to get in and out of these facilities without getting caught. Now… I don’t need to know why you know what you do—at least not right now—I just wanna know if you’ll join our cause. We want to see Silco, and more importantly shimmer, brought down and eradicated from Zaun.”

            You sigh, looking out the window to try and clear your mind. It’s not like you like shimmer’s presence in Zaun, nor do you consider yourself a fan of Silco, far from it. But your own vendetta runs deeper towards a particular organization. Absently, you lay a hand on your cloth-covered forearm, tracing the shape of the raised flesh. “What about the other chem-barons?” You ask in what you hope sounds like a disinterested question.

            “Right now, our goal is an independent, peaceful Zaun. I don’t think that’ll include the barons, if that’s what you’re asking.” His face is set, a serious look in his eyes.

            “What do I get out of this? And please don’t give me some self-righteous speech about the future of the undercity. I’m a trencher, and I sure as hell don’t work for free”

            A smile comes back ever so slightly, “That was kinda half my answer. But if you give us your loyalty, you’ll have a home. Meals, shelter, showers, community. We work together here, you’d be expected to chip in. When we get a tip on a shipment of shimmer, you’ll be sent out with a team of soldiers.”

            “Fine.” You reply curtly, his eyes light up immediately and the small smile on his face cracks into a wide grin. “But,” the smile dims, “I want you to know that you should be ashamed of yourself to force me to make this decision on an empty stomach, especially when you offer me food if I join.” You punctuate your critique with a petty huff.

            Ekko laughs, slapping a firm hand down on your shoulder, “You’ll be great here.” You glare sarcastically at his hand on your shoulder, “Come on, I’ll take you to the mess hall.”

            You are pleased that on your fourth trek through the hallways you can—mostly—tell where you’re going. The mess hall is similar to the rest of the base with the exception of sunlight. It seems to be built into a sewer tunnel but without the tell-tale undercity stonework you never would have known. Several tables take up the center of the large room along with several carpets and pillows for people to eat on the ground. “Jaymin is our cook, he’s great,” Ekko’s voice cuts through the light chatter and you turn your attention to the table of pots left out for people to serve themselves. Your stomach rumbles again, this time shooting a deep ache up into your chest, when was the last time I ate? “Help yourself,” is the only encouragement you need before you’re standing at the table and loading up a plate full of food. Most of it is stuff you recognize, standard trench-fare, and the stuff you don’t you leave in their pots.

            You follow Ekko over to a table where a couple other firelights sit and chat over cresting servings of food. They all look at you as you sit, and you make a pointed effort to hold your chin high and not attempt to disappear into your seat. Malia calls your name from across the table, she picks up her food to sit next to you, “Good to see you’re still here,” she sits like a topsider: elegant and poised. The best response you can offer is a nod with a chipmunk-like mouthful of food.

            “You’re still here,” the table shakes slightly as Scar sits down next to Malia, his voice in harsh contrast to hers, “I’m surprised you didn’t run off.”

            You shoot him as menacing of a scowl as you can muster, swallowing your food, “And miss a chance to make your life just a bit more difficult? Never.” He rolls his eyes as Malia’s laugh flows out like silk.

            “You gotta hand it to her, Scar,” he glares at her now, “she doesn’t scare easy. And besides, you would hate her if she did.”

            Ekko finally speaks up through a mouthful of rice, “Hey, no one hates anyone. I just got her in, and I’d like to keep her, okay? So Scar, try to be nice.”

            Scar, to your surprise, dips his head in acknowledgement at Ekko’s voice. He doesn’t even skulk like you expected him to, only redirects his attention to his food, ignoring you to the best of his abilities.

            Leaning closer to Malia, you whisper, “How does Ekko do that?” She looks at you quizzically, you elaborate. “Get him to listen, I mean.” As you watch Scar interact with the other firelights at the table, your point continues to prove itself; it seems like the man can hardly stand to listen to the others talk. So to see him listen to Ekko without a hint of contempt is a bit hard to comprehend. You’ve seen people like him condensed into blind obedience before, of course, but it is always out of pure terror—Ekko is about as far from fear inducing as you can get, you think.

            Malia’s voice is low next to you, “We all respect Ekko of course, he’s done more for us in the past few years than we could ever repay in a lifetime of service,” you nod, stealing a glance at Scar who is currently scowling at a taller man on the other end of the table, “But Scar and Ekko… they’ve been through a lot together. Ekko trusts him more than any of us, I think, and for good reason. The two are like brothers.”

            Scar’s gaze flicks to the two of you, his teeth showing for a moment before he continues eating, how strong are those big ass ears? You suspect they’re stronger than yours, anyways, but he gives you no reason to think he heard your conversation.

            Ekko continues to introduce you to the rest of the Firelights at the table and you recognize a few names and faces; it’ll be a while till you can confidently pick out individuals in a crowd, but you have to say you aren’t doing too bad for your first day.

            People begin to trickle out of the mess hall, and you walk with Malia to bring your plate back to the kitchen. It’s smaller than the dining portion, but the room is expertly organized; no space is wasted. You gingerly place your plate on a towering stack of other dirty plates and bowls and jog to catch up with Ekko who is calling your name near the entrance to the kitchen.

            “I was hoping to come with you to see Jordyn, but I need to go meet with a couple of soldiers about a new tip, so… would you be cool going with Malia?”

            You hear the thump of Malia’s boots behind you, she answers for you, “Yeah, I’ll take her. I need to go chat with them about my own mask.”

            She turns to you once Ekko walks out of the mess hall, “Come on, you’ll like them, I promise.”

            You find Jordyn sitting under a tent similar to the one from this morning. They are hunched over a workbench, muscular back on full display beneath the thin, white tank they wear. When Malia calls their name they turn, standing at full height and lifting a welding mask over their head to smile at her. “Mal, I was wondering when you’d show up,” they clap their hand to hers, pulling her into a hug, just like Ekko, “I just finished up the new voice box.” They seem to suddenly notice you, a crooked smirk on their face as they look you up and down several times, “And who is this?”

            Your face flushes as they lean against their workbench, biceps flexing as they cross over their chest, eyes never leaving you. Malia saves you once again, “This is the new one Scar and Ekko brought in from last night’s raid. She needs a mask,”

            Jordyn runs a tongue over their teeth beneath their lips, “Sure, I can do that. Come sit down and I’ll get some things ready, okay?” You nod. They lead you to a tall stool and turn back to their workbench. The welding mask comes off with a loud thunk revealing an impressive head of long, blonde hair that they quickly tie into a knot. They turn back around holding a fabric measuring tape. “I’m gonna start with some basic measurements, won’t take long, I promise”

            “Yeah, whatever you need to do.”

            They start from behind, running the tape over the back of your head first, writing down a few numbers as they go. This kind of touch you can handle, even if you can’t see them as they approach, you don’t feel constricted. That is until they move to your face. Instead of bending down to get eye level with you—as you assume a normal person would—they opt for a wide legged stance that lowers their body just enough to look you dead on. The proximity feels suffocating, and you struggle to find an appropriate place to fix your eyes that isn’t directed at their chest or face.  

Malia, mercifully, keeps Jordyn entertained with a story about some shimmer dealer she ran into recently. She sits idly on the workbench while going into grotesque detail of exactly how she beat the shit out of the guy after catching him selling some of the stuff to a group of kids. Your stomach clenches uncomfortably, what would they do if they found out you were a dealer until about twelve hours ago? Sure, you weren’t selling to kids, but Ekko made himself very clear on the Firelights opinions of people like you. Probably best to not tell anyone.

            Jordyn finally finishes with the measurements; standing up to stretch, they smile down at you, “I’ll start putting a base together, then we can talk about designs.” They turn back to the workbench and shoo Malia out of their way. Over their shoulder, they continue to talk to you, “So what’s your story, why come to the firelights?”

            You purse your lips; this is exactly what you don’t need right now. Again, your hands brush against the branding marked into your forearm, “Typical, I guess. I grew up in the sumps and Ekko thought I could be… useful.” Your response is too vague, you know this, but what the hell are you supposed to say? Yeah, I worked for an organized crime syndicate for the first 19 years of my life but I’m totally trustworthy!

            “One hell of a gap there,” Jordyn shoots you a look over their shoulder and you bite your lip anxiously, “But hey, I got some… gaps of my own. Don’t worry about it, kid, we all have shit we don’t talk about down here. What matters is that you’re here now, right?”

            “Yeah… guess so.”

            “Don’t believe them,” Malia chimes in, “Get them drunk enough and you’ll have enough information to fill a book.”

            Jordyn responds with a low laugh, “Don’t get her hopes up, after last week I’m not touchin’ anything for at least another month.” Malia laughs, letting them know exactly how much she believes them.

            You sit in silence for a while, happy to watch Jordyn work, and you mean that literally. You can’t see a thing they do over their back, but you selfishly admit that watching their muscles ripple as they do… whatever it is they’re doing is entertainment enough. Eventually, they spin around and lean against the bench, a skeleton of a mask in their hands. “Try this on for me, will ya?” You take it from their grease covered hands and slip it over your face. It’s surprisingly comfortable.

            “Feels fine,” you say, unsure exactly what they’re looking for here.

            “Perfect, now all I need to do is attach a face to it. Any ideas what you want it to be?”

            You look at them, head angled slightly, “Like… what animal?”

            “Sure, pick whatever. We’ve each got our own; mines a pig, Malia’s got a crow, Ekko’s got his owl. I can do most of em”

            Your mind goes blank, you hadn’t even begun to think what you would want your mask to be. You couldn’t even name a single animal if you tried.

            A familiarly rough voice startles you, “Make it a rat,” you turn to see Scar leaning against one of the tent poles. Both Malia and Jordyn stare at him, their faces a mixture of shock and amusement.

            Your first instinct is to bristle, a rat? Is that what he thinks of you? But before you open your mouth to tell him to go fuck himself you pause. He wants you to argue with him. Well fuck him. “Yeah, make it a rat,” you echo, turning your chin up in a blatant challenge to Scar, feeling slightly triumphant and very pissed. He sneers but says nothing.

            “Uh… sure?” Jordyn sounds surprised but turns back to his bench, “I’ll have it ready for you tomorrow.”

            “Thanks,” you say calmly despite the rage you feel burning in your belly. They wave a hand at you without turning around, too engrossed in a sketchbook where you assume they are drawing out plans for your new mask.

            “I’m gonna hang back, you okay for a bit?” Malia says to you, her arms crossed over her chest. She notices the glint of rage in your eyes and smiles, mischievously.

            Further into the courtyard, Scar is already skulking away. You walk to catch up with him, putting your body directly in his path. “What the fuck is your problem, huh?” you bite, glaring up at the tall chirean.

            He looks down his nose, making you feel smaller than you are, “I don’t have a problem,” he says, sounding bored.

            You let out an ungraceful, exasperated noise, “Oh, bullshit. I’ve barely been here one day, and you already can’t stand the sight of me? I didn’t ask you to take me here, you coulda left me at the warehouse. It’s your fault you’re stuck here with me.” You fold your arms, standing your ground.

            “I don’t trust dealers,” he pushes you out of the way to keep walking.

            Not willing to give up so soon you once again jog directly in front of his path. He no longer looks bored, “Oh, like you’re a godsdamned saint. I did what I had to do to survive, okay? You have no idea what my life was like, and I don’t need you holding a past you know nothing about over my head. Either shut the fuck up or leave me alone.”

            “Fine.” Another stupid growl. This time you push him out of your way, although he is far sturdier than you were, and it would be more accurate to say you shove yourself into his rock of a body before walking away.

            You realize you actually have no idea what to do now, Ekko never told you where your quarters would be, and you remember that you are still in your ash covered clothes leaving you smelling like a fresh bonfire everywhere you go. A familiar head of red hair catches your eyes, and you walk over to where Eve is sitting with a few other firelights. She looks up at you as you approach, not quite smiling but not displeased either, “Hey, you settling in okay? I heard your sticking around.” Word must travel fast.

            “Yeah, guess I am. I just met with Jordyn, they’re making my mask right now, I think.”

            Eve pushes herself away from the wall she was leaning on to talk to you more directly, “Glad to hear it. Can I help you with something?” Once again you find yourself being inspected and you shift uncomfortably.

            You run a hand through your hair, “Yeah, actually. Where am I… living?” It’s a difficult question to phrase; obviously you’re living here, in the hideout. But you are hoping you get your own room.

            “Did Ekko not bring you there this morning?” You shake your head. “Come on, I’ll show you where the sleeping quarters are. We just had a room open up, so this works out.” She doesn’t elaborate and you don’t press it.

            She leads back through the hallways you were in this morning and into a separate wing down a flight of stairs. She opens a door and lets you into a small room, similar to the one you were in last night. “I’m right down the hall from you,” she points to a door a few paces away, her voice still monotone but not unfriendly. She looks you up and down once more, “Do you want some fresh clothes?”

            Your face heats up; it isn’t like you didn’t realize how obviously a mess you were, you just… thought no one would mention it. Swallowing your pride, you nod, “Yeah… the fire… I’m still disgusting.”

            Her lips twist into a subtle smirk and she motions you to follow her down the hall into her room. It is the same layout as your own but covered in sculptures and other art pieces hung on the walls. You look around distracted until she calls you name. “These should fit.”

            You smile as you take the clothes, “Thank you, I really appreciate it, Eve”

            “No problem. You can keep them.” Despite the curtness of her responses, you feel no animosity from the girl standing in front of you. You were right to like her, something in her eyes makes you feel safe and a bit less alone in this strange new world you’ve fallen into.

            You return to your room and plop down on the bed for a moment, enjoying the softness of the sheets on your face that you neglected in your exhaustion last night. You leave your dirty clothes on the floor and slip into the new ones from Eve. They fit well enough, not exactly your style but you aren’t really in a position to complain at the moment, simply grateful to be in clothes that don’t reek of fire and that acrid scent of shimmer you’ve grown to hate.

            As you pull the shirt over your head, you pause to look at the branding on your arm. The twisting, ugly lines mocking the past you try so desperately to hide. Despite the nearly three years that have passed since you left, you never quite shake the feeling that Chross is watching over your shoulder, observing your every movement. For all the Hush Company knows, you’re long dead, or so you’ve been told, so there is no reason for you to feel so anxious. Especially not with the Firelights who are probably about the farthest from the Chem-Barons as you can get in Zaun. As long as you don’t bring up your past and no one asks any questions, there is no reason you can’t start your new life here in the hideout. And you know what? You deserve it dammit. It’s been years of running, assuming every shadow has someone lurking, out to get you. You’re gonna make this your home.

            But before you can do that, you want to at least get a few of your things from your apartment in the sumps before your landlord assumes the same as Chross and starts selling your shit. You run a hand down your face and steel yourself to walk back into the courtyard in search of Ekko.

YAY!!! This chapter was surprisingly difficult to write, but I want this story to feel rich enough to stand on its own, ya know? So I appreciate yall bearing with me for all of this exposition. I have a problem writing characters that are too fine, but I pinky promise this is a Scar fic, I just like writing about sexy people :P As always, let me know what y'all think! I love suggestions/feedback/critique

Cross posted on AO3 too!!

[jeonqkooks]

First of all - I love obs so fcking much 🥹 Your writing is truly just.. chefs kiss!!

But I would really like to see how they handled their first big argument/fight (if they had one ofc), after they started dating

our beloved summer; a drabble

You fucked up.

You know it. Jungkook knows it. Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok know it.

You fucked up.

You were scared, and so naturally, that made you stupid.

Now here you stand, in front of his door, wondering whether you should knock or leave. Patch things up or make things worse. You don’t know if this is one of those times where you should let him cool off and everything will be okay again in the morning, or if it’ll blow up if you let him simmer for too long.

You’ve been dating for almost a year, and not once has your boyfriend looked so dejected.

Hurt.

Because of what you said, and in front of all your friends, no less. 

It’s not like you and Jungkook have never fought before, because god knows you have. But it’s different this time. What you said was clearly out of line. The words didn’t feel right even as they were sitting on the tip of your tongue, but they jumped out anyway.

The whole group was supposed to spend a cute night together at Taehyung and Jimin’s place, eating cheap pizza and drinking even cheaper liquor. For the most part, it was a nice evening, until Hoseok asked what everybody was doing for Christmas.

You were already chewing on your lip when Jungkook mentioned that he'd be going back to Busan to see his family, because you had a good feeling of what he was teeing up to. By the time he asked if you would come with him to spend the holidays there, your stomach was in knots.

In response, you attempted a joke. A royally disastrous joke.

Because that's what you do. You hide behind nonchalance when big feelings are involved. It’s so easy to fall back into bad habits.

"Are you sure you want to introduce your parents to a girl who might not even be here for that much longer?"

Thinking back, you don't even know what you wanted the punchline to be. You meant it as a dig at yourself, but it didn't quite land that way. The way the guys went completely still, told you that nobody found it funny.

Your friends all stared at you - a question mark etched onto all three faces - then at Jungkook to gauge his reaction.

He blinked, and the hopeful smile from seconds before faltered. "Why is that supposed to mean?”

"I'm just saying, who knows what'll happen.” You shrugged. “There's a very real possibility that I might not spend the next Christmas with you. Hell, we might even break up tomorro-..." you trailed off when you caught Taehyung's eye, who subtly shook his head for you to stop before you could dig an even deeper hole for yourself.

The silence that embraced the room was chilling. Nobody said a word after that, because it was obviously not Taehyung, Jimin, or Hoseok’s place to comment. You watched as your boyfriend’s face fell, as he made himself small, and when you tried to reach for his hand, he stood up. Your fingers grazed his shirt before he slipped away entirely.

“That’s not what I mea-”

“‘Kay.” The single word was directed at you even though Jungkook’s body was facing the guys. "Sorry, uhm..." he said, turning toward the door despite you calling out his name. "I think I'm just gonna head home early."

Then he left, without even looking at you.

You touch the textured surface of his door, still not sure what you should say if you do decide to knock. Jungkook has been nothing but patient with you all this time, and you’ve been nothing but a coward. What you said tonight... You might as well have flat out told him that you didn't believe in this relationship.

You move away from the door to pace around for the millionth time in the past hour, but you jump when the barrier cracks open, revealing a tired-looking Jungkook on the other side.

“Don’t just stand there anymore,” he says, already retreating back into his home without looking at you. “It’s cold.”

You follow him inside, and close the door quietly behind you. “How did you know I was out there?”

“I could hear you pacing,” he says. For a brief moment, you’re flushed with embarrassment for thinking that you were so stealthy when in fact, he was listening to you the entire time. “And the guys texted asking if you got here okay. Why didn’t you let Tae walk you? It’s late.”

I can take care of myself, you think, but you bite back your default response. Instead, you tell him, “Okay. I won’t do that again.”

“Next time, let them walk with you.”

When Jungkook goes to sit down on the couch, you do the same. But something unfamiliar is there - an invisible wall that is the space between his end of the couch and yours. You don’t dare cross it, not with the way he refuses to turn his head in your direction.

It feels a lot like being shut out, and there isn’t a single part of you that enjoys it. He’s never distant when it’s only the two of you.

Is this how he feels whenever he’s with you? Every time he says I love you and you swerve the sentiment with a much milder and non-committal response, does his heart sink? Even though you love him, and you kiss him like you mean it, does he still feel cold right down to his bones?

It’s not a question of if you love him, but a question of if you’ll say it.

“Why can’t you walk with me next time?” you ask.

He shrugs. “I’m just saying.”

”Are we fighting?” The question comes out with a chuckle in an attempt to brush off the tension, even though this is no laughing matter. 

“I don’t know.” He mutters, more deflated than you expected him to be. “What are we fighting about?”

"I'm sorry," you say, because you don't know how else to start, but you mean it. "I'm really sorry."

“Okay.”

You bite your lip, then fumble with your fingers in your lap, twitching with the urge to reach out and touch him. He’s right there but he’s not here. His head is somewhere else, somewhere far away from you. “I didn’t mean it like that. You of all people should know that.”

Jungkook lets you sit in silence for a short while. Two minutes stretch out like two hundred days, excruciatingly endless, and you’re just stuck in the middle of it with no way out. There’s a thought that pops up in the back of your mind, a thought that makes your stomach roll with anxiety.

Is this a countdown?

He finally sighs, the exhale of a deep breath that somehow makes him feel even heavier.

"I know. I do know that. I know you love me too even if you don’t say it in those exact words. But that’s what it sounded like tonight. Sometimes I feel like all you think about is leaving when all I think about is a future with you.”

It turns you inside out, that look on his face. His eyes twinkle sadly, and you feel like shit for being the reason why he looks so dejected.

“I don’t want to say that you’re breaking my heart, because that would mean admitting I love you enough to let you keep doing it.”

Then he breathes in, like he’s bracing himself.

“But I do.”

Even the silence between his words is poignant.

“And you are.”

You don’t know what to say. You’re not good at this.

You’re not sure how Jungkook interprets your stillness, your lack of a verbal response, but he sighs again, quieter this time. Just as you open your mouth - not to speak because you’re still hunting for the right words - he stands up.

Actually, you know what the right words are.

“You know what, we can talk about this in the morning. I’m tired. Let’s just… sleep on it. Take my bed. I’ll take the couch,” he says, then he seems to realize something, like he could read your mind. “But if you want to leave, I won’t force you to stay.”

It means so much more than just that. He knows you understand it.

A way out.

But all it does is make you panic.

When he moves past you, you catch his wrist. “No,” you tell him, “let’s talk about it now.” You don’t know what expression you’re wearing, but it dilutes his anger, softens his hurt.

He looks at you, resigned, but he sits back down. This time, he sits right next to you and that makes you feel better, just by a fraction.

It’s always Jungkook who holds a hand out for you, waiting and wanting but never pushing. When the world is cold and you close in on yourself little by little, he’s always there by your side. You don’t want to admit that you’ve started taking him for granted somewhere along the way, but maybe you have. You get used to hearing those three words but not saying them back.

Thinking that he’ll continue to show up and be here and you won’t have to commit to anything. Thinking that if you don’t seal your fate, then it won’t hurt if it ends.

When it ends.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. It makes you feel stupid that you're just echoing this for a third time. “I didn’t mean it like that. I want to spend Christmas with you and your parents.”

“You don’t have to do it just because you think I’m upset.”

“I want to spend Christmas with your family, I promise.”

It’s weak, and you hate how you’re all too aware of just how weak of a reassurance it is.

He pokes a tongue into his cheek, eyes still sad, features still gloomy. “It’s okay, you know,” he says. “It’s okay if you want to leave. I’m not going to hold it against you.”

How do you make him understand that you don’t want to leave? That leaving him couldn’t be the furthest thing from your mind?

This isn’t playful banter. This isn’t a silly argument where one of you is shooting daggers from your eyes because the other pissed you off over something stupid and trivial. This is real, and you can’t weasel your way out of this one with finger guns and empty bravado.

As terrifying as it is to tell him those three words, to solidify how you feel, it’s nothing compared to losing him. The mere thought makes your stomach hurt, makes you want to drop to your knees.

You’re frustrated, because they’re sitting right there on the tip of your tongue but they’re stubborn and you’re afraid.

Suddenly, you crawl into his lap like a child and cling to his warmth koala-style, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck. He’s hesitant at first, a tiny bit startled, but then his hands are on your waist, your hips, drawing soothing patterns into your skin over your clothes. Now it feels like you’re the one who needs to be comforted.

You hug him close to your body like you could die if he were to let you go.

You run the words over in your head three times, because once they’re out there, you can’t ever take them back. They’ll be his to keep, for as long as he wants them. Isn’t it scary to think that your heart could belong to someone else, forever?

But he loves you and he tells you just as much. And you love him too. The only difference is you’re a coward.

It’s always the scariest right before you take the leap, right?

His gentle fingers are still soothing you. It feels nice.

Okay, here goes nothing.

For someone who’s highly uninterested in drama, you sure are dramatic.

“I love you.”

The very second you say those words, Jungkook goes still, his hands stopping their ministrations like you’ve frozen him completely. The one thing that isn’t motionless is his heart, hammering against his ribcage which you can feel where your chests are practically pressed together.

You swallow hard, then pull back slowly to gauge his reaction. His eyes well up, and you could probably make fun of him for it if you yourself weren’t on the verge of tears too. Crybaby, that’s what you’d tell him.

“Please mean it,” he says.

“You know I wouldn’t say it unless I mean it, and I mean it. I love you. You know I do.”

He looks at you for a few seconds longer to see if this is real, or if you’re just trying to appease him. There’s no trace of the latter.

He kisses you then, his tears spilling over and now you’re both crying as he picks you up with your body still wrapped around his and carries you blindly to where his bedroom is, clumsily knocking against some furniture on the way. He’s still emotional - in a good way, of course - as he lays you on his bed, as he helps you take off your clothes, as he fucks you nice and slow, like you’re the only thing he worships. When you come undone, you look him in the eye but tonight is the first time that he unravels with your soft voice whispering to him what he’s always dreamed of. 

I love you. A third time. 

The more you say it, the more you love him, and the more you want to keep saying it.

No, the fall isn’t scary. Not when he’s there to catch you in the end. You don’t know how much time you’ve wasted trying to convince yourself otherwise.

Even when you both gravitate toward each other’s warmth under the covers, you don’t tell him goodnight. You tell him you love him.

“Can you say it again in the morning?” he asks.

You kiss him like it’s a promise you intend to keep, because it is. 

“I will.”

[currentfications]

Christmas Special | 🎄

Synopsis: after your last shift of the year, you excitedly made your way home. The snow had made running difficult, and the delay was enough to cause you to miss your bus. With your phone battery flat and only one phone number memorised, you decided to try your luck, hoping that your ex would pick up the phone.

A/N: this is just cliches after cliches cause I am a basic bitch, special shoutout to @bluebada for the Christmas post (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) sorry for the cheesiness and general cringe, I just sat down and typed a whole bunch of tropes into one fic, sorry if it’s not my best work, I’ve had the worst week and needed some fluff >/////<

Warning: swearing, fluff and cringe, but mostly sfw (mention/alluded to sex but no smut in this fic)

“Wait!” You waved your hand at the bus’s closing door, to no avail. The hydraulics hissed and the driver took off in haste before the doors had fully closed. “Fuck,” you muttered, tugging the suitcase behind you, the wheels squeaking in protest after being hauled around the past miles while you sprinted.

Walking up to the dimly lit bus stop, you checked the posted schedule for the next bus. A piece of poorly stuck on paper informed you of your continued misfortune while its peeling corners flapping around in the wind seemed to mock you. You bit your tongue from making a sarcastic comment at the situation on hand, not wanting to jinx your already doomed self. Instead you silently wondered if you could survive the night if you wore all your clothings at once. The Christmas sweater at the bottom of your bag ought to serve it’s purpose, you thought.

Noticing a phone booth nearby, you thought the shelter might make the wind chill more tolerable. The stench that hit your nose immediately had you reconsider taking your chances with the elements. Staring at the key pad and the suspicious puddle of stain on the floor, you tapped on your phone screen again, hoping that it had magically recharged itself. It did not.

You hung your head in disappointment and immediately regretted taking a deep breath to self regulate. Picking up the rusty phone and the last few quarters you had at the bottom of your bag, you swiftly punched in the number to the studio, hoping that someone- anyone- had stayed behind. Maybe the night cleaners would call you a cab.

“Thank you for your call. We are currently away for Christmas closure until the second Monday of January. Please leave a message-”

You hung the receiver up and sprinted outside for some fresh air. By the time you had remembered to jiggle the little refund handle on the pay phone, only two quarters are spat back out. Groaning at your own stupidity, you stared at the keypad and dialled in the only cell phone number you remember.

An odd feeling stirred in you as your finger lingered above the last button. Before you could quite identify the emotion, a wave of nausea from the smell quickly dismissed any other feeling in you.

The call went through.

What was I thinking? You thought to yourself as the wait tone went on. She’s not going to pick-

“Hello?” A familiar voice pierced through your doubt.

Instinctively, you took another deep breath. Your eyes watered up, and you’re not sure if it’s from her voice or the reek. “Hey Bada,” you managed to squeeze out.

A brief moment of silence hung in the air, and you thought she had hung up on the call. “Y/n?”

You nodded, realised that she can’t see you, and croaked out a confirmation. “Sorry to call you this late, I-”

A sharp beep cut you off.

“Please insert a quarter to continue the call.”

You fumbled around for some extra changes, but the call ended. Looking down on the mystery stain, you have a sudden irrational urge to defecate on the money hungry technology. Before you could do anything you’d regret, or worse, destruction of public property, the phone rang.

☆*:.｡.:*☆

You waved at the approaching headlights, and the black sedan came to a screeching halt next to you. The door to the driver’s seat flung open, and a familiar silhouette darted towards you. You were engulfed in Bada’s comforting scent warmth as she threw her coat on you.

“Are you okay?” Her soft voice was dripping with concern as she brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face. “Shit, you’re freezing. Get in the car.”

You climbed into the passenger seat of the still running car, thanking her as she shut the door behind you. “Sorry for the trouble,” you muttered apologetically as she buckled herself behind the steering wheel. “Thanks for getting here so quickly too, I hope I haven’t interrupted anything?”

“Don’t be silly, I’m just glad you remembered my phone number.” A hint of pink tinted her cheeks, and you convinced yourself that it’s either the weather or the poor lighting.

You sheepishly smiled at the taller girl, “well I’m glad you picked up an unknown number in the middle of the night, or I’ll probably have to crash in the phone booth.”

“Wouldn’t want the Mouse King to get to you, princess,” Bada teased.

You beamed at the pet name before quickly tuning down your smile, reminding yourself of the distance you ought to put between yourself and her. “How’d you know I got the role?”

Bada’s eyes widen and she whipped herself around, turning her attention to the GPS. “I- uh, Lusher told me. Speaking of which, the girls are having a Christmas party at Minah’s, you wanna come?”

You raised an eyebrow at her sudden change in subject, but nodded nevertheless. “It’s been a while, you think they’d mind?”

“Nah, it’ll be a Christmas surprise.” A smile sat on the corner of her lips as she gripped the steering wheel, her hand on the lowered break lingering beside you went unnoticed as you fixated on her eyes.

“Thanks for the invite,” you said as you finally peeled your gaze away. The scent of her car reminded you of something. “I better change,” you muttered as you pulled out a sweater from your bag, before wiggling off her coat and the shirt that you were wearing, which still faintly smelled like the phone booth. “Sorry for the stench.”

Bada glanced over to you and almost swerved into the opposite lane, immediately hiding her surprise with a cough. “Geez y/n, trying to make me crash the car?”

You chuckled as you pulled the Christmas sweater over your head. “Eyes on the road Bada, nothing you haven’t seen here before.”

Bada bit down on her bottom lip as she fixed her eyes back on the road, her knuckles turning white as she gripped on the steering harder.

☆*:.｡.:*☆

You heard the party as Bada pulled into the driveway, shaking your head at the girls’ energy. “They’re still as lively as ever,” you remarked at the Christmas karaoke blasting through the basement. Bada hummed and nodded in agreement.

“Perks of living near a construction site, I guess.” Bada was worried when Minah first told them she’s moving into this area, but soon discovered that the BEBE dancer is actually the menace of the suburb.

“What took you so long?” The door swing open at the bottom of the stairs and Minah peered through, stopping dead in her tracks when she spot you wrapped up in Bada’s coat, an ugly Christmas sweater underneath. “Holy fuckery are you-”

Bada shot her a warning look and wagged her head ever so slightly, and Minah muttered an apology of some sort before pulling you into a hug with a huge grin on her face.

“Merry Christmas,” you squeezed the redhead, “it’s been too long.”

“Come on in and tell me all about it,” Minah chirped excitedly as she pulled you into the house behind her. “Lusher is here too,” she nodded towards the singing, All I Want for Christmas echoing through the stairwell.

“Hurry up,” you turned around to Bada, who’s already kicking off her sneakers, “don’t wanna miss your part.”

Bada whipped around and sprinted down the hallway, leaving you with Minah, who offered to take your coat. “We have beer and eggnog, Lusher was making something in the kitchen. Do you have work tomorrow or can you stay?”

“I can stay,” you said as you handed her Bada’s coat, “we finally finished our last show of the year. Can I take up on that eggnog offer?”

With a mug full of spiked milk, you leaned against the door frame leading to Minah’s living room, where Lusher and Bada stood in front of the television, singing (Bada rapping Soulja Boy’s Crank That).

“WAR IS OVER!” Lusher screeched when the song finished, turning to you with a hug. “WE CHEERED!”

Bada covered her mouth with her hands, but it was too late as Tatter emerged from the kitchen with a cup in hand, which she flung to the other side of the room as she dived into your arms. Minah’s disapproving groan overshadowed by Tatter’s chatter. “It’s a Christmas miracle, we are no longer children of divorce!”

☆*:.｡.:*☆

“Who’s baking gingerbread at this hour?” You asked, sniffing the air as smell of baked goods slowly filled the room.

“Oh shit,” Lusher recalled, making her way back to the kitchen. “Should we make gingerbread house?”

“Should you be making gingerbread houses right now?” You followed her into the kitchen, hot behind her heels as she stumbled on flat ground.

“Oops,” she chortled. The gingerbread now smelled toastier than before, and you hastened your speed towards the oven.

You found the kitchen mitten hanging by the stoves and reached out to grab it. “I’ll do it, go sit your drunk ass down.” The girl giggled and you heard the kitchen stool being pulled out, lusher plopping into the seat.

A hand appeared from above your shoulder and plucked the mitten off your hands, you turned around to Bada already putting them on. “Your clumsy ass is no better than her drunk one. Go sit next to her.”

You tried to protest but Bada’s firm hand on your lower back guided you away from the oven door. You stood in place even after she had withdrew her hand, too distracted to notice the quickly browning smell of the baked goods. Definitely too distracted to notice the blush taking form on both of your cheeks.

Bada opened the door and a gust of cinnamon and clove scent poured out the oven, and you almost forgot how ridiculous it is to be making gingerbread houses in the middle of the night with your salivating.

“Hot tray incoming,” Bada warned as she pulled out a sheet tray, snapping you out of your daze. You looked around and found a coaster, placing it on the bench behind her as she put down the piping hot tray.

It was brief, but the domesticity stirred up some feelings you thought had long settled in you. You then immediately scolded yourself for dredging up the past. The festive season must be making you all sappy.

You shook your head and turned your focus to Lusher’s trays instead. “Are we building minecraft houses?” You couldn’t help but ask upon seeing two dozens or so poorly formed shapes on the sheet trays.

Bada peered over your shoulder. “These are squoval at best,” she noted, “how many drinks have you had tonight?”

“Enough to spontaneously want to bake,” Lusher slurred.

“You can glue them with melted sugar,” Minah suggested, pulling out a pot from her rack.

“Nope, too drunk to handle hot sugar.” Lusher threw her hands up, sitting back into the stool. “You do it.”

Bada sighed exasperatingly, “is this a Christmas party or a babysitting gig?”

☆*:.｡.:*☆

Between the gingerbread house decoration, eggnog, and Christmas songs karaoke, the tiredness from the bus chase earlier that day had finally caught onto you as you let out a yawn, covering your mouth with the sleeved of your Christmas sweater.

“You alright there?” Noticing your watering eyes, bada checked in on you. “Do you need to go? I can drive you if you need,” Bada offered.

“No, no I’ll be fine, once my phone charges up I can call myself a ride. Plus no drinking and driving,” you added,

“No more Nutcracker this season?” Minah asked.

“Nope, just finished our last show of the year,” you gestured towards your suitcase.

“Speaking of which,” Lusher chimed in with curious eyes. “Have you gotten the role?” She asked, “for Sugarplum Princess?”

You nodded with a smile, before quickly realising something was off. You squinted at Bada, who has taken a vested interest in the bottom of her cup.

☆*:.｡.:*☆

“So,” You prodded, “I thought you said Lusher broke the news?” Leaning against the concrete wall, you took a draw from the cigarette, the dim light from your lighter illuminating the snowy street.

“She must had too much to drink,” Bada adamantly insisted, leaning towards you. You held up the smoke silently for her, raising an eyebrow at her response.

“Lee Bada, are you stalking your ex?” You joinkingly said, gently taping her shoulder with your fist.

“It’s Christmas, nothing wrong with watching the Nutcrackers during the festive season,” choking on the smoke, her tone turned defensive.

“Right, so you came by and watched me without stopping to say hello?”

“I- I didn’t know what to say, after…” Bada trailed off, leaving the silence to fill the icy air. After what felt like minutes, she turned to you with a smile, her eyes suspiciously damp. “You were incredible on that stage, princess.”

You blushed at the pet name, having to remind yourself that she was just referring to your role. With a smile and en pointe, you lifted your arms beside you while you gave her a stage bow. “Thank you for coming to the show.”

When you stood up straight again, the moisture pooling in her eyes seemed to have increased, moments away from falling off her cheeks. You looked up at the tall girl and instinctively reached your hand out towards her. Whilst your hand is still raised in midair, you realised that the gesture may be too intimate, and settled with fixing her fringe instead.

“Are you still putting on one right now?” Bada asked, her voice hushed as it wavered ever so slightly, the tears welling up in her eyes finally falling off.

“What are you talking about?” You frantically asked as you caught a stray drop sliding off her cheek. “Bada are you alright?”

The taller girl shook her head and tilted it back to stop her tears from falling. “I’m sorry y/n, I thought I’ve moved on like we promised to.”

“Bada-”

“But I don’t want to,” Bada continued, still looking away from you. Her neck stretched back as you saw her swallowing hard. “And I don’t think I can.”

“Bada,” you tentatively said again, your voice now much softer with the emotions bubbling up. “I’m sorry I asked that of you. I thought it would be easier if we both just walked away, I-” your voice trailed off as you pondered how the hell did you even thought that was a good idea in the first place.

Sure, work gets in the way of relationships. But if you had just tried harder, accommodated more, would it have made a difference?

Her chuckling made you look up, now meeting her gaze as she looked down at you, a tight smile that couldn’t quite reach her eyes plastered on her face. A nervous habit you knew she had. “It was anything but easy these couple years, y/n.”

You hummed and nodded in agreement, “look at me being stranded on the side of the road without you.”

Bada chuckled, “look at you, still remembering my phone number even in a pinch.”

“I’m surprised you picked up unknown numbers this late at night,” you said with a laugh.

“Can’t help it, I know an accident prone idiot who needs my rescue at all hours of the day.”

“That can’t be safe, how many scam calls do you end up picking up?”

“Probably too many, I actually almost fell for one once- but it’s well worth it, I got the call I’m waiting for.”

You stood flabbergasted by the admission, the cold air stinging the inside of your cheeks as your jaw hung. “Shit Bada, I’m sorry I’m still causing you trouble even after I left.”

Was two Christmas ago? When you sat her down in the kitchen and told her you’re moving out. Between trying to keep your relationship working and your career, you’ve chosen the later. You’d also gotten her a hand knitted sweater that year- speaking of cliched.

“Nah, ‘y can’t help that you’re forgetful-”

“I am sometimes forgetful,” you corrected, and Bada backed off with her palms up, a smile finally returning to her rosy cheeks. Frostbitten, likely. “Get some sleep after this party, sleep debts’ a bitch,”

Bada raised a finger to her under eye. “Oops, busted,” she said as she stuck her tongue out, like being caught red handed in a cookie jar. “Fine, New Year’s resolution,” she announced as she turned to you. “Go to bed by two each night.”

“Ten,” you whacked away her hand placed on her chest.

“Twelve.”

“Eleven.”

“Eleven each night,” Bada replaced her hand on her chest.

You rolled your eyes at her but didn’t correct her this time. “And eat breakfast,” you added.

“Huh?”

“New Year’s resolution, don’t forget to eat breakfast,” you reminded.

Bada groaned. “As if you eat breakfast,” she muttered, scrunching up her nose in annoyance.

“Fine, our New Year’s resolution. Breakfast.” It’s about time you make one and stick to it anyways. “Eight cups of w-” you begin, only to immediately cut off by Bada.

“Y/n, be reasonable.”

You shrugged. “It was a nice try though. Congrats on the competition- you girls’ schedule must’ve been packed lately?”

Bada hummed and nodded a confirmation, “it’s great to have a job, don’t get me wrong,” she said, holding her hands up defensively, “it’s just nice to be able to sit around and do nothing for a while.”

“Word,” you muttered, as the chilled wind blew at the awkward silence that filled as the small talk settled.

“Uhm,” bada started, breaking the silence. “I can send you home?”

“Oh don’t worry about it, my phone should be charged up by now, I’ll call myself a ride. Thanks, again, for coming to my rescue.”

Bada chuckled, “anytime, princess.” The pet name is starting to grow on you.

☆*:.｡.:*☆

“How is the battery STILL flat?” You wailed, clutching your lifeless phone.

“Did you plug it in?” Bada peered behind you.

“Of course I plugged it in,” you snapped, “I’m not stupid.”

Bada took over your phone and charge and wiggled it around. “Is the plug turned on?”

“Of course it’s-” not turned on. You could’ve sweared that you had seen the phone lit up when it was plugged in. “Oh come on who turned it off?”

You suspect foul play, but your streak of bad luck of the day made you sound hesitant. Bada was not convinced.

“Do you want to crash for the night?” Minah poked her head into the kitchen, letting out a yawn. “It’s getting real late.”

Between asking Bada to drink drive and staying the night, you chose the later and thanked Minah for the bed. “Sorry if I’m over staying my welcome.”

“Don’t be silly, we haven’t caught up in a while. Stay as long as you like,” said Minah, as she led you to the guest room. “Lusher fell asleep on the couch,” Minah continued, turning to Bada. “So you can sleep here too I guess. Aight, I’ll see you in the morning,” Minah’s voice trailed off as she quickly made her way back to her room, slamming the door behind.

“Minah set us up, didn’t she?” You said with a sigh.

“Probably unplugged your phone too,” Bada chuckled. “Sorry for the wrongful accusation.”

“That was very hurtful,” you joked, “since you felt so bad about it you’ll let me call dibs on the bed.” You flopped yourself down on the nearest mattress and looked around the room, realising that you’re sitting down on the only bed.

“Minah!” Bada shouted as she marched towards her room, shortly returning with a huff. “Bastard locked her room.”

“I still call dibs on the bed.”

“Well scoot in then,” Bada instructed, “unless you want me to sleep on the cold hard floor?”

You rolled your eyes at her and made room for Bada. “That little minx, I’ll get her in the morning.”

Bada climbed in, and the old mattress sunk at the weight of you two, squeaking as gravity pulled you together at the bottom of the mattress nest.

You opened your eyes to meet Bada’s hot chocolate brown ones staring back at you. “The fuck are you looking at,” you giggled as you pushed her fringed down to cover her eyes. “Go to sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah I will, just-” bada stirred in her cocoon of blanket, “I haven’t seen you in a while. You keep sleepin’ and don’t worry about me.”

You tried to close your eyes but felt her burning gaze on you. “I can’t sleep with you staring at me, you weirdo,” you said as you turned around, the mattress nest pulling you backwards.

As you were falling asleep you felt an arm around you, but you quickly drifted off as the slow rising and falling of Bada’s breathing gently lulled you to sleep.

☆*:.｡.:*☆

The first crack of dawn spilled through the window above the bed, and you snuggled deeper into the warmth as slumber reclaimed you.

A firm hold around you enveloped you as you next woken up from possibly the best sleep of the year. Followed closely by the rudest awakening of the year. Bada’s arms had snaked around your waist as she nuzzled into the back of your neck, you backside pressed up against her stomach as one of your legs have started to fall asleep. You suspect it is between her thighs.

“Bada,” you gently nudged the sleeping giant, poking at her shoulder. “My job needs me to have both legs,” you whispered.

“Hm?” She continued to stir, gripping you tighter into herself.

Seeing that her slumber is not letting up, you yanked your feet out from her weight. Pins and needles attacked your foot as blood returned to your leg, and you let out a hiss as you rubbed your foot.

“Y/n?” Bada opened her eyes in confusion, slowly recalling the events of the night before. “Shit, sorry. You okay there?”

You nodded, pulling yourself up from the bed. “Merry Christmas, Bada.” Judging by the lack of noise in the house you assumed the rest of the BEBE girls are still fast asleep, you pointed at a door down the halls and mouthed ‘toilet?’ at Bada, shuffling towards it as Bada nodded a confirmation.

Bada followed closely behind you out the room, heading for a glass of water in the kitchen. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

A bundle of mistletoe hung by the doorframe, staring back at the two of you, its waxy white berries beckoning. “This wasn’t here last night,” you said, observing the tape holding up the ribbon.

“Mhmm,” Bada hummed, easily guessing the culprit who’d set it up. “Should we let it serve its purpose?”

You chuckled at the offer, before leaning in to plant a quick peck on her cheeks. “Fine, seeing that I didn’t have a Christmas present.”

The kiss was short and sweet, and you tried to not linger on the sweet part too long. Doesn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach. You shrugged off the feeling and made quick time to the toilet.

Bada’s hand grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back into her arms. “Y/n, wait.” Her eyes took you in as she hit down on her bottom lips, brushing away a strand of hair away from your face. “Can we try again?” She said with a hushed tone, concealing a break in her voice.

“Bada we’ve been through this,” you sighed, “it’s too much work and it’ll take away-”

“I’m sorry I left you to fend for yourself,” Bada cut you off, her eyes welling up again. “But I promise I’ll be more present this time. It takes two to make a relationship work, right?”

You pondered at her words for a second. “We are both so, very busy,” you reminded, “it’ll be hard fucking work.”

Bada leaned down and pressed her forehead against yours, her breath tickling your upper lips. “Then I’ll put in the hard fucking work,” her soft voice determined, uttering a promise in whispers. The firmness in her voice felt so reliable, and you couldn’t help but falter at it.

Maybe this time it’ll be different. You’re older, know better. And her arms felt like home, like shelter in a storm, a ride in the dark. “Are you sure?” You glanced up, looking for signs of hesitation but found none.

Bada pressed her lips against yours, and you found your answer in her firm hold around you. You melted against her and allowed yourself to let your guard down, to allow the crashing waves of yearning you’ve been feeling wash through you. Grabbing the collar of her shirt, you pulled her closer into the kiss.

An excited screech broke your tender moment, as Lusher had awoken from the couch, now prancing towards Minah’s room. “Wake up Minah! We did it! The room trick worked!” She shouted, slapping the locked door.

You’ll get them back. But first, “I still really gotta pee,” you turned to Bada in the midst of cheerful chaos, peeling her arms off you.

“Since you haven’t gotten me anything for Christmas, I’ll take watersporting as a gift,” Bada teased, earning an elbow to her guts.

☆*:.｡.:*☆

A/N2: Thank you guys for reading~ hope you all have a wonderful time at this time of the year, and to all my hospitality workers: stay strong, thank you so so much for your service!! Thanks for allowing my self indulging fics (I really should be talking to a therapist than putting y/n through shit but alas)◉‿◉

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

My Little Shadow: Part two (Azriel X Reader)

Warnings!: Abusive family, toxic relationship, arranged marriage.

Part one here: Part one

Part three

Thank you for all the people who like and re-blogged my last post! I couldn't believe so many people liked my story, so I worked hard to make sure I had the second part out today! Prepare for two shadowsingers to meet. As Y/N and Azriel meet again, is it the beginning of a friendship, or something more?

The past two weeks had been a nightmare, more so than usual.

After returning to my father’s home, he beat me senseless, afterward throwing me into my room and locking it from the outside.

No one had returned to even bring me food, although luckily I had saved some in a hidden spot for times just like this.  I had thought that one day I would need to hide myself, my mother, or my sisters from his wrath.

I would have never imagined this scenario, but I probably should have.

I was his only daughter born before Amarantha’s reign.  He had managed to keep us off her radar, but it had only helped so much.  And then somewhere in there, he decided that he wanted another child.  Seeing no end in sight to our stay under the mountain, he went for it.

Thinking about back then, about what I had done to keep my sisters safe, I clenched my hands, the old scars that ran up my back, legs, and arms hurting again.

I felt a cold hand on my shoulder, attempting to soothe me.

I smiled.  There was one thing they could never take away.

After I had first learned how to speak with the shadows, I had discreetly done as much research as I possibly could.  I knew that different shadows preferred different ways of presenting themselves, and had seen it myself.

But these shadows had followed me from that horrible cell under the mountain, becoming the only one I could trust.  They take the form of a human woman, most likely one they had seen before who wouldn’t be using it anymore.

I couldn’t make out any facial features, and if they stood real still they looked like nothing more than my shadow, but if you looked closely, you might notice how it seems darker than it should, and that when you look at them from a certain angle you noticed that sometimes they were not flat against the wall, but their own entity entirely.

They helped me stay sane under the mountain, and now they were doing the same again as I wondered what would happen when my bedroom door finally opened.

I rested my head against the wall, the chill soothing my stressed mind.

After only a moment of this, I heard my door make a resounding click as someone unlocked it.

I whipped around, standing straight with my arms behind my back, back to being the respectful daughter.

I knew my shadows had gone back to hiding, still nearby in case anything was required of them.

My father opened the door, his clothes and hair more regal and pristine than usual.

“Get yourself dressed, we have an event to attend to.”  He said unemotionally, walking away and leaving the door wide open.

Dread pooled in my stomach.  Whatever this was, I already knew it wasn’t going to be good.

I put on one of my more plain dresses, hoping to attract as little attention as possible.  I stalled for time, taking as long as possible to do my hair.

Maybe I could attempt to stay with one of my friends until Draven gave up on this whole arranged marriage thing.  Though I had no clue which of them would sell me out for the most measly of rewards.  Maybe all of them would.

Eventually, I could stall no more, my father in the doorway, watching me with dark beady eyes.

“Do I have my sweet little girl back, or am I to have to deal with this ungrateful little thing that’s taken her place?”  He asked, placing his hands on my shoulders as he peered into the mirror, looking me in the eye.

I swallowed the hatred that bubbled up, the urge to take the delicate handle of my hair brush and plunge it deep into his chest.  I met his eyes, letting none of that show as I spoke meekly, “I’m sorry for my previous outburst father, I promise never to speak to you like that again.”

He lifted a hand to stroke my hair, his expression almost sweet as he smiled, speaking low, “Good, I love you my darling girl.  You are making me proud, and helping all of us.  Never forget that.”

I forced myself not to shiver as he kissed my head before leaving the room.

Getting up to follow him, I took a few calming breaths, stealing myself for whatever may come.

After surviving years under the mountain, this should be nothing.  But sometimes it felt as if I had more freedom then, than I ever will again.

Everyone was gathered in the main room, waiting for me.

None of them spoke a word to me as my father opened the door, and we all followed him out.

I had three younger sisters, and to my father’s disappointment, no brothers.  My sisters crowded around me, offering silent comfort, my mother walking at my fathers side.

Was that what my life was going to look like after the marriage?  Living a life in silent fear, with no hope of a better future as I was forced to watch my own children be sold away.

I started to feel sick again.

We eventually stopped in a hall and I recognised the rest of the way, leading the way to the living quarters of Keir.

“All of you stay here, and talk to no one.” My father instructed as he straightened the lapel of his jacket.

He looked at me, and I lowered my head as he spoke, “When I call for you, you will behave like the lady you are.  Or there will be consequences.  Understood?”

I nodded, not meeting his stare.

He made a smug noise before turning and walking the rest of the way down the hall.  Keir opened the door after one knock, ushering him in quickly.

We stood there in silence for another moment before I felt a hand grasp mine.  “It’ll be okay.”

I looked down to see my youngest sister grabbing my hand.  She was too young to understand the difference between this place and Under the Mountain.

I gave her a little smile, placing a reassuring hand on her head.  “Of course it’ll be alright.  It may seem scary now, but remember what we always say-”

We both spoke at the same time, “Nothing can hurt us as long as we’re together.”

She looked up at me, her eyes wet with the beginning of tears.  “But we aren’t going to be together.”

I knew that if my father saw, he would scold me, but I pulled her close into a tight embrace.  “It’ll be alright darling, nothing can come between sisters.”

I let her go, quickly smoothing out my dress.

Feeling eyes on me, I looked up to see my mother quickly looking away.

I knew this wasn’t the life she had wanted either.  She used to tell me stories of her family, who hadn’t lived in Hewn City but had been just as cruel.  They had sold her to my father, just as he was now going to sell me.

Keir’s door opened, and my father poked his head out beckoning me in.

I obediently came to him, and he pulled me inside, shutting the door quickly behind us.

Keir’s taste in decor was awful.  Everything had edges sharp enough to draw blood and there was almost no color in anything.  It had a somewhat normal sitting situation, but what intrigued me was the painting that hung in the middle of the room, the subject of the portate being solidly him, with all of his family except his daughter sitting around him.

I swear I could see where she had been painted out.

“So this is the daughter you wish to wed to Draven?”  Kier asked from the large chair he was lounging in, a disgusting smile on his face as he studied me.

Don’t react, don’t show what you think.

“Yes, say hi Y/N.”

“Hello.”  I said meekly, not looking either of them in the eye.

I heard the floor creak, not realizing Keir had gotten up until he was tugging my chin upwards, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

“Hmmmm.”  He hummed as he studied my bruised face before letting me go.

“I heard about her little outburst earlier this month.  If anyone will be able to tame her, it will be Draven.  You have my approval.”

My stomach churned, and I wanted to scream, not hearing the self satisfied words they were passing back and forth now that my fate had been sealed.

I only came back to reality when my father placed a hand on my shoulder.  “Did you hear me Y/N?  I said it’s time to go.”

I bowed my head, following him out and back to my family.

Apparently, my house arrest was over, because once we made it back to one of the more public halls, he announced he would be at home celebrating if anyone needed him or my mother, dragging her off.

Two of my sisters were quick to rush off, but My youngest sister, Stella, stayed by my side as my eyes unfocused, unable to breathe as the panic struck me in full force.

Stella hugged me, and I wrapped my arms around her tightly, breathing in her scent of sugar, dust, and warmth, knowing that soon I would never see her again except in passing.

“You should go hang out with your friends.”  I managed to say once I calmed down enough.

Her eyes were wide as she pulled back, studying my face.

I forced myself to smile as I ruffled her hair, saying in a falsely cheery tone, “Hey!  Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.  I’ma figure out how to fix all of this, okay?”

She nodded slowly, and I planted a quick peck on her forehead.  “Now go!  I’ll be fine.”

I waited until her scent had completely aired out before I let the tears fall, quietly sobbing as I realized that this was the end of my life.

For a little while, the only sound was my gasping sobs until I heard footsteps in the distance.

I covered my mouth, quieting myself even father as I listened.

My shadow companion manifested next to me, obviously noticing the steps as well.

I pondered on whether I should leave, I had already gotten myself in enough trouble, and I dreaded to think about the consequences if I was once again caught doing something my father would punish me for.

But something about the saltwater, baked goods, and dark male scent struck something in me.  I knew it from somewhere, but for some reason I couldn’t place from where.

I once again looked to my shadows.

There was something we had learned to do.  I wasn’t sure if it had never been documented, or if we were the first to be able to do this little trick, but I had never found anything about it.

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I could see the world through a dark mist.

My shadows and I could become one in a way, turning me into a shadowy figure that could hide at will.

I could feel the shadows concern for me, and I sighed.  “I’ll be fine, don’t be so fussy” I whispered right before I stretched my head around the corner, my breath catching as I saw who stood there.

Azriel.

I watched him, standing there with something like rage on his features as he paced back and forth, his shadows curling around his ear.

I could feel my shadows' curiosity.  They loved interacting with shadows from different places, learning the stories they held of other lands.

Sometimes I wondered if they wanted out of this place even more than I did.

As I thought about this I wasn’t watching the Illerian male.  And so didn’t notice when he spotted me until he spoke.

“Hello there.”

I practically jumped out of my skin when I heard him speak, preparing to turn and run when one of his shadows reached me, tugging me into full view.

Luckily with my shadows and I being one, I would only look like a stark shadow.

“Who are you?”  He asked, not necessarily angry as he approached me, his shadows loosening their grip on my waist.

“Does it matter?”  I asked, my voice silkier in this form than normal.

He smirked.  “It does if you were spying on me.”  He said, and I saw the blue siphons on his armor glow threateningly.

This is normally where I would apologize, play nice until they realized I was no threat.

But he didn’t know who I was, and I was already boiling over with rage.

“If I wanted to spy on you, I wouldn’t have been caught.”  I say as I take a step through his shadows, his expression flickered to one of shock for just a millisecond before turning back into stone.

“Then what were you doing here?”  He asked, his head tilting as he looked down at me.

I grinned, looking up at him.  “Well, I was minding my own business when I heard some footsteps.  Really, I should be asking you what you’re doing here.”

His lips twitched upwards as he looked down at me.  “I’m waiting for someone to come meet me, but now I’m wondering if I should reschedule.”

My heart started to beat faster with the way he stared down at me, his gaze intense.  “And why is that?”

He grinned now.  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a shadow quite like you.”

I was trying to think of some response that wasn’t just embarrassed babbling when we both heard footsteps coming closer.

Without a moment's hesitation I turned and ran.  He called out after me, but I ignored it, knowing better than to stay around and see who was coming.

Eventually when I was closer to home, I let my shadows unwind, taking their own form again.

“Thank you.”  I whispered to them, and I could feel their happiness.

Meanwhile, I was once again spiraling, but for none of the same reasons as before.

What had I been thinking, taunting the high lord’s spymaster like that?  There were so many bad things that could happen.  What if he found out that I wasn’t just some shadow?  What if he found out who I was and told my father?

I took a deep calming breath.

He didn’t know who I was, and so there was nothing that he could do to me.

More confident, and something else than my impending doom to think about, I went home.

As I opened the door, my father cheered, “She’s back!  My precious daughter who is going to be our salvation.”

My mother was sitting in his lap, and I quickly looked away as I headed for my room.

“Oh, and sweetheart,”  My father said, drawing my attention back to him as he continued, “The date is set, in a little over a month you’ll be married!”

He laughed, happy as could be as he nuzzled my mother’s neck.

I felt sick.  About how soon I would lose my last scraps of freedom, how even though I could see the well hidden disgust on my mother’s face, she let him touch her, his hands gripping her hips so tight it must be painful.

As I went into my room and closed and locked the door, I couldn’t help but hope I would run into Azriel again, despite the risks.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Ex's and Oh's – Steve Harrington

Have you ever broken up with someone and been forced to see them every day?

It sucks.

The worst part of it is my ex used to be my best friend.

Steve Harrington and I have been best friends since elementary school. I moved in a few months after school started so, naturally, I didn't make any friends. One day at recess, some kids were picking on me. Steve heard them and stood up for me. We were inseparable after that.

We didn't start dating until the beginning of our senior year. The night before school started, Steve, Tommy, Carol, and I were at an "End of Summer" party at Steve's teammate's house. That night, we were all drinking and having fun. But then someone suggested a game of Seven Minutes of Heaven. And, of course, Steve and I got picked.

~ • ~

"We don't have to do anything," I stuttered with my arms wrapped tightly around myself. I kept my eyes on my feet, unable to see the drunken empty eyes of my best friend.

"Y/N," Steve whispered. I hummed in response but didn't move. "Y/N, please, look at me."

I took a shaky breath and slowly looked up at him. The minute my eyes landed on his, Steve wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his chest. Without saying anything, Steve leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine.

My heart was beating against my chest. I couldn't believe that Steve was actually kissing me.

Did it mean something to him?

Was it more than just the game?

Could he actually have feelings for me?

My brain continued to ask all kinds of questions I would never know the answers to without asking him. When I couldn't handle the frustration, I took it out on Steve and finally started kissing him back.

As soon as I started moving my lips against his, Steve deepened the kiss. Our lips moved roughly against each other as we clutched onto each other. We slowly broke the kiss when someone knocked on the door.

"Guess our time is up," I said, out of breath. Steve leaned his forehead against mine and slightly rubbed our noses together.

"Guess so."

~ • ~

The next day, I acted like nothing happened. That was the plan anyway. At lunch, I was walking to our usual table when Steve grabbed me and pulled me out into the quad. He didn't say anything. Instead, he kissed me. When we broke the kiss, he confessed to having feelings for me and wanting to be more than friends. I confessed to wanting that too.

Things were going great. We made it three months before things started to change. And it didn't change over a certain amount of time. It changed after one weekend.

My parents went out of town so Steve and I decided to spend the weekend at my house together. Saturday we laid on the couch and watched TV all day. But that night, we got into my dad's beer and our make-out session went a little too far.

After a lot of kissing and even more questions from Steve making sure I wanted to do this, Steve and I slept together. It was an amazing night. It was my perfect first time.

The next morning, I woke up to Steve's arms wrapped around me. I didn't bother to move. I never wanted to leave his embrace. About half an hour later, Steve kissed my shoulder. We stayed in bed for most of the morning. We only got out of bed to briefly get dressed and make some lunch. Then we returned to each other's arms on the couch. Sadly, he couldn't stay all day. My parents were going to be home around dinner, so Steve left right before.

I still remember the way he held me in his arms on the doorstep and kissed me.

~ • ~

"I'll see you at school tomorrow," he whispered, giving me chills.

"Walk me to class?"

"Every." He kissed my forehead.

"Single." He kissed my cheek.

"Class." He kissed my lips.

At school that next Monday, I noticed people slowly started to change. They started to pay more attention to me and started whispering and laughing. I had no idea what was going on and I didn't figure it out until lunch.

I sat down at lunch, across from Tommy and Carol. I started to unpack the lunch I brought for me and Steve. I finally noticed the couple staring at me.

"What?" I asked.

"How was your weekend, Y/N?" Tommy asked in a suspicious tone.

"It was good," I said slowly. I felt a blush build as I thought about what Steve and I did this weekend.

"Just good?" Carol giggled. I looked between the two of them, my heart sinking.

"What are you. . . Do you. . . Did he. . ."

"Hey, guys," Steve greeted. The smirk that Tommy and Carol shared clarified what was going on. Before anyone could stop me, I jumped out and ran out of the cafeteria.

"Y/N, wait up!"

Steve ran after me. Once he caught up to me outside, he grabbed my wrist and spun me towards him. "What is going on, baby?"

"How could you?!" I yelled as I tore my hand out of his hold. He took a step back and studied me.

"How could I what, baby?" He asked. "I'm confused. What's going on?"

"You told," I said, my voice breaking.

"I told. . ."

"You told Tommy and Carol about Saturday night," I cut him off. His eyes widened.

"Y/N," he stuttered. He tried to take a step toward me but I took a step back.

"Don't," I said, tears streaming down my face. "I can't believe you told them. That was a really, really personal night and you shared it like we went and got pizza and saw a movie. Like it meant nothing to you."

"Y/N, that's not. . ."

"We're done," I cut him off again.

"Y/N, please. . ."

"I can't be with someone who took the most personal night of my life and shared it with the entire school," I said, my voice breaking as the tears continued to stream down my face.

"Y/N," Steve whispered.

"I'm sorry, Steve, but we're done."

~ • ~

The next couple of months in school were rough. After we broke up, I stopped hanging out with our usual friends. I was completely alone. I barely ate and battled depression. It got even worse when Steve started dating a junior named Nancy Wheeler.

It seemed like wherever I went, there they were. They walked into school together. They studied in the library together. They walked to class together. They ate lunch together while I ate alone.

Even from across the lunchroom, I could hear Steve and Nancy laughing. I looked up at them and it felt like someone had grabbed my heart and squeezed. I looked away when Nancy leaned over and kissed Steve. When the tightness in my throat got too overwhelming, I stood up, threw away my lunch, and went to the library.

I left right before lunch was over but instantly wished I had stayed there when I saw Nancy at her locker. Whoever was squeezing my heart decided to try to rip it out through my throat as Steve snuck up behind Nancy.

I looked away right as he wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up. I turned on my heel and ran to the bathroom, instantly tucking into a stall. I stayed in there for all of fifth period, not caring that I was missing Government.

As I sat there, my thoughts went to Steve. I thought about our friendship. I thought about our relationship. Tears silently streamed down my face as I thought about our last weekend together. He made me feel like the most important person in the world and then crushed it in the manner of hours.

"I still can't believe you're going."

"Come on, Barb. It's an innocent party."

"An innocent party?" Barb scoffed. "Nance, it's just you two and his friends. This is clearly just a way to get into your pants."

"And that's a bad thing?" Nancy giggled.

"Nancy," Barb sighed. "You can't seriously want. . . It's a special thing and you want. . . Him, Nance? Really?"

Nancy wanted Steve to take her virginity. . . I was going to be sick. I put my headphones in and blasted music to drown out the rest of their conversation. I don't know when they left, but I didn't leave. I planned to stay in a few minutes after the bell rang and then sneak out with the other early-out seniors.

When the time came, I left the bathroom and started walking out. I rounded the corner and bumped into someone. I looked up at who I bumped into and my heart jumped into my throat.

"Steve," I stuttered.

"Hey, you," he said, his voice soft. I took a step back and tightened my grip on my backpack.

"Sorry," I said, my voice dropping. "I wasn't looking."

"Y/N," Steve said quickly to stop me from leaving. I looked up at him to see him opening and closing his mouth like he was struggling to find the right words.

"I just wanted to. . ."

"Don't."

"I'm sorry, Y/N. For everything."

"I said, don't," I repeated, my voice breaking. I brushed past him and ran out of the building.

* * * * *

After my weird interaction with Steve, I went straight home. I didn't worry about my parents being home as I unlocked the door. Both my parents worked so I was often home alone. Not that I minded.

I spent the rest of the day, reading a book, cleaning my room, and cooking dinner. After I ate dinner alone, I hopped in the shower. I got out, got dressed, and started brushing my hair. Once all the knots were combed out, I braided my hair.

I walked out of my bathroom not really paying attention as I threw my clothes in my laundry basket. I looked up, letting out a surprised scream when I saw someone standing out on my balcony.

"It's just me!" Steve yelled from outside. I quickly walked over and threw the door open.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I yelled. "Steve, you can't just climb onto my balcony and wait outside the door. It's incredibly creepy. I was in the shower. What if I had walked out in a towel?"

"I've seen you in less," Steve smirked. He cleared his throat when he saw my glare.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice dropping.

"I wanted to continue our conversation."

"There's nothing else to say," I sighed as I turned around and walked back into my room.

"You may not have anything else you want to say," Steve said as he followed me, "but I have more I want to say."

"What?" I asked, my voice breaking. "What else could you possibly have to say to me, Steve?"

"I miss you."

I wasn't expecting him to say that.

"I miss our dates when you mostly just helped me with my homework. I miss us hiding under the bleachers during lunch to escape Tommy and Carol's latest fight. But more importantly, I miss parking my car around the corner, climbing up the tree outside, and sneaking into your room at night just so I could lay next to you and hold you as you slept."

Before I could stop myself, I grabbed his face and smashed my lips onto his. As soon as our lips touched, my stomach dropped and I remembered the scene I walked into when I got to school this morning. Completely embarrassed, I started to pull away and break the kiss.

Steve wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer and keeping me pressed against his chest. My breath got stuck in my throat as he started to kiss me back.

Things sped up as our lips moved messily in sync. Without breaking the kiss, Steve picked me up and carried me over to my bed. We let out matching moans as he laid us down, hovering over me.

"Steve," I moaned, breaking the kiss. I took a shaky breath when he started kissing my neck. "We shouldn't be doing this."

He mumbled something against my skin, but I couldn't hear him. "Seriously, Steve." I gasped when he bit my earlobe. "Oh, Steve."

I forced myself to put my hands on his chest and push him away from me.

"As much as I've missed the feeling of pleasure spreading throughout my body as we undress," I said shakily, "we shouldn't be doing this."

I sat up, making him sit next to me. "Y/N," he started.

"You're with Nancy," I said, getting off my bed. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to get my brain to stop thinking. "It's not fair to her. Even though I don't really like her, she's still your girlfriend."

"She's not."

"She's what?" I gasped, quickly turning around. Steve got off my bed and walked over to me. He grabbed my wrists, unwrapped my arms from around myself, and took my hands in his.

"I broke up with her."

"You. . . But when. . . Why. . . What?" I couldn't help but stutter.

"After we ran into each other at lunch, I went back to my table," Steve started to explain. "When I did, they started asking about you. I tried to change the subject but then Carol started talking about you."

"She did?" I whispered.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I'm sorry, Y/N. The more I tried to get her to shut up, the more she revealed about us."

"What did she say?" I asked, turning my focus on our hands. Steve let go of one of my hands and used his finger to lift my head.

"She told her that you turned me pathetic."

"I did?"

"Kinda," he chuckled. "When we were together, my grades were better than ever. I didn't make fun of people when I was around you. I was the top scorer on our team that season. And, this may be stupid, but my room was always clean."

I couldn't help but laugh. Steve finally let go of my chin and grabbed my hand again.

"I kept telling them to stop talking about you," he said, his tone changing. "Eventually, Carol started listing off things she hated about you."

"Oh," I whispered.

"And then Nancy started laughing and agreeing with her."

I pulled my hands out of his and rewrapped them around myself. I walked over and sat on the edge of my bed.

"I know this sounds bad," Steve quickly said as he walked over and sat next to me, "but the more I listened to them, the more I disagreed with them. And the more I realized how amazing you are and how much better my life was when we were together. I stood up for you and told them to leave you alone. I then walked away. Nancy followed me and asked me what was wrong. When I told her I didn't want to sit back and listen as they trash-talked you, she sarcastically asked if I was still in love with you."

"How could you still be in love with me?" I scoffed, trying to push down my nerves. "You never were in love with me."

"Yes, I was," he said quickly. I looked up at him, my breath getting caught in my throat. "Y/N," he continued as he scooted closer to me, "when we were dating, I fell madly in love with you."

"You did?" I asked, feeling like I couldn't breathe.

"Of course I did," he chuckled, scooting closer to me. "You were the best thing that had ever happened to me. You still are."

"You never told me," I whispered when I noticed he had been leaning closer.

"Because I was scared," he whispered. "I didn't think you felt the same way."

"I did."

We closed the gap.

Our lips instantly started moving in sync as we lay down. I moaned when Steve carefully rolled us over so he was on top of me. Things were picking up fast, but we both knew we needed to slow down.

Steve broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against mine. I smiled when he gently rubbed our noses together.

"I know I messed up," he whispered, "and I can never take back what I did. But I can make it better."

"Steve. . ."

"If you give me another chance, I will do whatever I can to show you how important you are," he continued. "I'll quit basketball. I'll dump Tommy and Carol. I'll only focus on you and me."

"You don't have to do that," I whispered as I played with his shirt. "You don't have to quit basketball or abandon your friends."

"I don't mind abandoning them," he shrugged. "They're the reason we broke up anyway."

I sighed as I sat up. "No, they're not."

"They kinda are," he tried to laugh. He stopped when he looked at me.

"Come on, Steve," I said, scooting up so I was leaning against the headboard. "You told Tommy that you took my virginity the weekend my parents went to visit my grandma. By lunch on Monday, the entire school knew we slept together. People kept making jokes and asking how it was. It was embarrassing."

"I know," he said, his voice soft. "But Tommy. . ."

"You told him," I cut him off. "You knew how nervous I was that night. You knew how private I was and you told him anyway."

"Because it meant something to me," Steve rushed out. He sighed before continuing, "I know this isn't going to make sense but hear me out. Before you, I had girlfriends, one-night stands, drunken booty calls."

"This is supposed to make me feel better?" I tried to laugh.

"What I meant was that none of them mattered to me," he continued. "You, on the other hand, were different. You meant so much to me, Y/N. Still do. That Monday after we slept together, Tommy asked why I was smiling like an idiot. I didn't say anything at first, but Tommy figured it out. He started asking questions, some I answered, some I didn't. I shouldn't have answered any of them. I'm so sorry, Y/N. You need to know though that that night was one of the best nights of my life. I've never felt like I did when we were together with anyone else."

"Not even Nancy?" I couldn't help but ask. Steve scooted closer to me, his face inches from mine.

"Not even Nancy," he whispered. I moaned as he pressed his lips to mine. When he laid us down and deepened the kiss, I didn't stop him. I let him repeat what we did the weekend my parents were out of town.

This time, he didn't tell anyone.

[riptideripley]

I seen that your requests are open. Is it possible I could request a sub!rhea x dom!fem reader smut??

After Party

gif creds: @rebecca-quin

summary:There’s an Money in the Bank after party that you were invited to alongside the Judgement day,Rhea decides to be a little too flirty.

word count:1,261

Money in the Bank had just finished and every one was heading out to a club for the after party celebration. Rhea,your girlfriend,had decided to wear a skirt and a black spaghetti strap shirt. You wore a black jumper,pairing it with heels while Rhea wore converse. You finished getting ready and headed down to the club,Rhea following.

Once arrived,Rhea went straight for the bar to catch up with Dominik. You giggled and sat with the Usos,who were your friends since forever. “Hey Jey,see you’re celebrating your win tonight” you said smiling,giving Jimmy a small hug as he waved at you. “Yup! First to pin him in almost 3 and a half years,I deserve everything tonight” Jey spoke downing a shot of alcohol. You giggled and grabbed one of the shots that sat on a tray. You glanced over at Rhea noticing her tipsy and smiling a little too much with Becky Lynch. You noted this and continued talking with the Usos,drinking here and there.

You felt a hand appear on your shoulder and looked to see who it was,Damien Priest. “Hey Señor Money in the Bank!” you spoke giving him a small side hug. He smiled,”Hey (your name),thanks for getting the name right. But can I talk to you for a moment?” he asked. You nodded and got up,following him off to a small corner in the club. “Hey so um..Rhea..she’s been extremely flirty with Becky tonight. I just thought I’d tell you” he spoke,making you clench your jaw. “mm..thanks for telling me,but can you tell her she has 5 minutes before we leave?” you asked,smiling innocently as he nodded and left to go to report to her. You headed back over to the Usos and downed two more shots at once,making Jimmy’s eyes widen. “Yoo chill with all that,I know you can handle your liquor easy but damn” “Maybe she’s stressed uce,you never know what Priest told her” Jey responded,patting your back gently. You smiled,”Guys I’m fine,but I’m gonna head home. I’ll call you two in the morning like you asked I promise” you told them grabbing your purse and phone off the table.

You walked over to the bar,saying hi to everyone you knew over there. You grabbed Rhea’s hand as she stood up from the chair,leading her outside the club. “So we’re being flirty tonight huh?” “B-Baby I’m sorry ok? I didn’t mean t-“ you cut her off by planting a kiss on her lips. Since the club was a short walk from the hotel,you two walked there so you grabbed her hand and walked back to the hotel. Once in the room,you lifted her up and placed her onto the bed. “Strip. I want you naked by the time I come back,understand?” you told her,grabbing her chin so she would look at you. “Yes ma’am..” she responded softly,making you smile as you headed into the bathroom. You opened the cabinet under the sink,grabbing a box you had placed under there. You smiled as you opened the box and grabbed the largest strap you had,handcuffs,and a vibrator. You walked back in the room to find a naked Rhea sitting on the bed,making you smile.

Her eyes widen at the items in your hand,slightly squeezing her legs shut. “Oh no baby..open back up for me honey” you cooed softly,sliding your hand between her thighs spreading her legs back open. Before she could respond you had the vibrator pressed against her clit on the 2nd highest setting. “F-Fuck!” she yelped out,gripping your wrist tightly as she threw her head back slightly letting out moans. You took the opportunity to leave soft kisses along her neck,wrapping her thighs around you as you slowly scooted the both of you up closer to the headboard. “Oh my god fuck- please” Rhea whimpered out softly,already feeling her orgasm approaching. She whined when you suddenly stopped your actions,attaching the strap harness to yourself. It was the biggest one you owned(9.5),Rhea glanced seeing the size making her eyes widen. “Just relax baby..after all you asked for this” you cooed softly rubbing her thighs to make her relax,once she relaxed you entered her.

“S-shit! Mommy it’s too..” Rhea spoke,trailing off and her eyes rolled back when you began thrusting. “Too what doll? Use your words honey” you spoke softly,picking up the pace of your thrusts. “T-too big..mm!” she spoke throwing her head back. You grabbed the handcuffs and shifted your position,putting her on all fours as you kneeled behind her. You placed the handcuffs on her,making them tight as you then thrusted back into her making her yelp. “Oh baby..you know Becky can’t make you feel like this” you said giggling at her whimper,nodding at your words. “I-I know mommy..” she spoke softly,suddenly gasping as you turned the vibrator on and placed it onto her clit.

You continued thrusting,lifting her leg over your shoulder making you reach her g-spot. She was a moaning mess at this point,letting out loud moans and whimpers as she gripped the covers. Occasionally she would let out a scream when you rammed into her most sensitive part,but would bite onto a pillow to prevent it. You gripped her hair lifting her head up,smiling. “Aht aht baby..let Becky hear you next door” you said smiling making her eyes widen. You knew that Becky was next door when you booked so this was absolutely perfect. She tried her best to muffle the noises spewing out of her but couldn’t help it,with your intense thrusts and the vibrations from the highest setting of the vibrator she couldn’t help it.

This continued for at least another hour,denying her orgasm one last time. “m’cant take it! prism!” she yelped out,saying the safe word. You stopped and turned off the vibrator,throwing it somewhere. Rhea pants trying to catch her breath,”m’sorry mommy..” she whispered out. “It’s ok sweetie..come on sit up and let mommy help you” you spoke,planting a soft kiss on her forehead. She scooted up onto the bed and turned around to face you,laying back. You smiled and kissed her thighs,trailing down to her pussy. You noticed how swollen her clit was and frowned a little,”Baby if you would’ve told me earlier how bad it was I would’ve stopped..” you trailed off as you began licking her wetness. She whimpered and let out soft moans,it didn’t take her long to release all over your face which you licked up every last drop.

You sat up and crawled next to her,kissing her forehead. “You did so good for me baby,just be careful and remember who you belong to ok?” you spoke running your hand through her soft black hair as she laid her head on your thighs. “Yes ma’am..” she spoke yawning. “We should get you a bath first hm? Or do you just wanna wash up in the morning?” “In the morning,I’m too tired” she responded,following a yawn. You smiled at how gorgeous she looked and shifted your position,laying down with her head on your chest. You planted a soft kiss to the top of her head before trailing off into a deep sleep.

[sabraeal]

at home with the glass half empty, Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Sunlight already spills through the blinds when Gojo’s ringtone rattles across his bedside table, phone millimeters away from a precipitous— and most assuredly, screen-shattering— drop. That is, before Nanami slaps a hand out, snatching its death from the jaws of fate. “This better be good.”

“Nanami-kun.” Gojo-senpai’s never breathless— not since that time he went up against Fushiguro— but he doesn’t bother to croon and that’s warning enough. “As long as you’re flexible on the definition of ‘good,’ I think we can both walk away happy on this one.”

He scrapes a hand over his face, swallowing a groan. “Might I remind you, this is my day off.”

“I’m afraid the cursed spirits didn’t get the memo.” Gojo-senpai laughs. Not that fake one he does to play at being normal, fooling no one but his students, but the other kind— the harsher one that scrapes up from his throat when he’s winning. Coupled with the crack in the background, like a felled tree— no, telephone pole, Nanami realizes— threatening to fall, he can take a guess at what his senpai has gotten up to in the twelve hours since he’s last seen him. “No rest for the wicked and all that.”

There’s no effort in sitting up in bed, in pinching his nose and letting the air rush through his teeth, but that doesn’t change the fact that Nanami doesn’t want to do any of it. “Are you fighting it right now?”

“Well, I asked if it’d give me a moment to make a call” — there’s another crash, metallic this time, and he can only hope it’s a mailbox or vending machine and not some car— “but it didn’t seem amenable.”

Nanami stifles a sigh, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress, the chill of the floor seeping up through his heels. “Where are you?”

“Close. Just down the street really.” No time for coffee then, not even to fortify him against whatever bullshit Gojo-senpai is choosing to play close to his chest. “I’ll send you my location. I’ve got another guy meeting us there. Now, gotta go! I think this next bit might take two hands.”

“But—” The call cuts out with a swift click, the duration flashing across the screen —1:20— before it goes dark, leaving him with only thin strips of sunlight leaving tiger stripes across his covers.

He should have known better, really. Nearly a year and a half back in this world, and it’s the same as it had been when he was in school: last minute, frantic, no information, no questions. His phone rumbles in his hand— Gojo’s email, the only contents a set of geo coordinates. Two blocks away, as promised. A relief, since the last time senpai informed him a hunt was ‘just down the street’, it was on the other side of Shibuya.

A man his age shouldn’t creak getting out of bed, but after yesterday’s hard landing— two flights down onto a fire escape that would have held his weight in high school, but as an adult, decided to squeal and groan and unceremoniously give out over the dumpster below— everything from his shoulders down is shot. If he’d known he wouldn’t have his requisite forty-eight hour recovery period, he would have let Ieiri-sensei look at him. Now he’ll have to settle for only fixing the problems a hot shower can solve.

Halfway through his trudge to the bathroom, memory niggles at him, and his frown furrows deeper into the sharp planes of his face. “’Another guy?’”

*

“H-hold up there, Kento-san.” Takuma’s all wide eyes beneath the edge of his mask, hands held up like he has any chance of holding another grown man’s weight. Trust Gojo-senpai to mention arranging backup and have it be some child, barely graduated and still smelling of spring. “Are you sure you can handle getting up to your place all by yourself? I mean, I could always—”

“It has an elevator.” A dubious eye inspects where his hand presses to his side, bright red staining pale blue. “I can make it across the lobby. This is hardly the worst injury I’ve ever gotten, Takuma-kun.”

At least the child isn’t still wearing his school uniform. Unlike some actual grown men Nanami has the displeasure of associating with. “Shouldn’t you have Ieiri-sensei take a look? Gojo-sen— er, Gojo-san said that you had a bit of a spill yesterday too.”

Funny, he hadn’t seemed too concerned with it at the time. Perhaps he had been too busy yucking it up to pass on his condolences. “I have a perfectly serviceable set of bandages in my apartment. Ieiri-sensei has more than enough on her plate, she doesn’t need to be dealing with a little scrape like this.”

“Scrape?” Takuma squints into his wince. “That thing looks like it’ll need stitches at least.”

Good thing he’d taught himself to do them back in first year. One could only wonder what they were teaching the children now if even a cut like this had them scrambling to see someone with the reverse curse technique. “I’ll handle it. Now, make sure you have someone look at that head of yours. Concussions may not present obvious symptoms at first, but they can pose quite serious problems if untreated.”

“Are you kidding me?” the kid huffs as Nanami turns toward the doors, arms thrown up in the air. “You’re bleeding out over there, but I get a tap on the head, and you think I should see a doctor?”

“You’re a promising sorcerer, Takuma-kun.” An understatement; barely a few months out of school and he’d managed to acquit himself well in a fight that had taxed even Nanami’s reserves. Not as much of an accomplishment during work hours, he’ll admit, but if he’d been considering overtime, then the spirit was no slouch. “It would be a pity for you to be taken out of the fight by a simple mistake.”

Air hisses through the boy’s teeth, and in the reflective glass of the door, Nanami sees him shake his head. “You’re really something else, Kento-san.”

“Trust me,” he croaks, hooking the handle with his free hand. “I know.”

*

The classic location to stitch up wounds is the bathroom, perched on the edge of the tub while the easily bleached white porcelain accepts the brunt of the bleeding. But trading down from a stockbroker to a sorcerer’s salary had necessitated the removal of a few everyday luxuries of his last apartment, one of them being the soaking tub. So between balancing his sewing kit on the sink crushed between shower and toilet, and a flat and clean countertop, it’s the kitchen that wins out as his makeshift emergency ward.

A mistake, since even as he strings the sutures from flesh to ragged flesh, the muscles of his abdomen clenching from the sting, he sees it— that wrinkled scrap of white visible no matter what angle he approaches his morning coffee. It mocks him from its place on the counter; his scarlet letter, a badge of shame, the physical proof of his wavering resolve; an accusation and a condemnation all at once.

Sayo, the characters still read, not a single stroke of it or the number beneath the slightest bit smudged. How could it be, when it hadn’t managed to stay in the bin long enough for him to finish his jambon-beurre? He winces, not from the sensation of string sliding through skin, but his own lack of discipline. How many excuses had he found to walk past it that night? Just a glass of water this time. Then a perusal of condiments, wondering if his dinner might need any, only to decide— three times!— that no improvements were possible on such perfection. Followed by a foray for the proper side dish for a sandwich of that caliber.

He cannot recall the exact instance that he plucked it from its resting place, only that one moment it was canted on its paper bag, destined for the municipal dump, and the next it was cradled in his hand. Foolish for him to set it up like that, as if it were an idol on a shrine; his countertop a poor excuse for an altar. Even more foolish still to have rescued it at all.

It’s a crutch, he knows; proof that there’s another world out there, one he could be part of if he so chose. A place he could possibly escape to, so long as he turned a blind eye to the grotesques that slithered around every corner, ignoring every monstrous curse that clung to a smiling stranger. A simple task to put his back to the single evil that he could change and mindlessly participate in worsening the rest.

There’s no point in keeping it. He tried that once; staying away, being normal. Exchanging endless existential dread for the everyday concerns of status and reputation and making ends meet. Focusing his attention on the money he could make rather than the curses he could dispatch. Sorcerers rarely made it to retirement, and Nanami wanted to to have the chance at a life, at a family, at something that might pass for love. To travel, to see more of the world than the darkest places in Japan, tearing evil out by the root. To see forty, and the crows feet it might bring.

He’d had so many plans that day he’d left, so many hopes. And all he had done in those four years was make rich men richer.

One day, when he’s been run through and wrung out, missing limbs or eyes and no longer of use as a sorcerer at all, he might go back there. Might take that chance for a normal life. But— he hisses, skin pulling tight as he knots the gut— it won’t be any time soon.

And yet. Yet.

*

It’s not about the girl, he decides as the bell chimes above his head. It’s about the fly-head; about how in twelve months, she’d had one nearly as large as the last. How it’s nearly been five months now— no, six— and she might have another just as big. It’s not common for curses to act like that, to keep clinging even once they’re exorcised. For someone to keep attracting them, even once cleansed.

There’s something going on, is all. A reason for fly-head after fly-head to keep chittering in her ear, nibbling the shine off her smile. And if he can fix it, well—

Then he can stop wondering about it. One day off is a fair price for his peace of mind, even if his side twinges with every sway of the metro. Even standing here, lost among the tables and chairs, takes a kind of stamina, though with the way one of the cashiers looks at him— a quick once over from the broguing on his wingtips to the sleek shape of his hairline— he’s wondering if that particular anguish is less physical and more…social.

There’s no rush at the moment; just as he planned. It’d been tempting to come as soon as it opened, to disappear into the rush of salarymen looking for morning coffees and warm breakfast sandwiches, but the thought of surviving those mindless drones and their jostling elbows makes him suppress a shudder, even now. And in any case, it would be easier to assess the progress of any curse without a line of hungry customers between him and the baker. Or at least it would, if she were manning the counter. Which she isn’t today, it seems.

Ridiculous. This little side trip ended up futile as he knew it would be. He came all the way here— even crossed through Shibuya— only to be fouled up by a concept so simple as shift work. Typical.

The other cashier at the counter glances up, catching their co-worker’s inattention. It’s strange to see a diligent employee from this angle; the way her brows furrow and her cheeks puff, exasperation in every ounce of her sigh. In the way her mouth rounds, ready to call out, when—

When she lets her gaze slip from them to the object of their attention. The one standing at the back of the shop. Namely, him.

Ah, yes. This was definitely a mistake.

Her eyes widen, and she digs an elbow into her co-worker’s side, earning herself a startled glance. There’s some sort of miming— something around her neck, and then a hand shot up high in the air, and the other girl nods, scurrying to the back. A curious occurrence, but not one he has any reason to bother himself with.

At least, not until the baker emerges from the kitchen, sans beret this time, head swiveling like one of her displays.

“It’s you!” Clouds must part somewhere beyond the bakery windows; there is no other reason for the girl’s face to brighten so much between one breath in the next. A soft clap brings her hands together, every pore of her far more pleased than he can account for. “Just give me one minute, I’ll…”

She edges around the counter, back to him as she bends over a case, the white line of her shoulders bared to him— and there it is, that same damn curse, small and larval, one of its tendrils curled around the curve of her neck. Obnoxious, that’s what it is. Tenacious. He might respect it, if it was anything but a mindless manifestation of the world’s misery and malaise.

As it is, he can only think of the movements to exorcise it; the precise methods he might use to keep another of its kind from gaining traction again—

“Here.” A white bag hangs in front of him, her smile peeking around the edge of it. “Your casse-croute. On the house.”

“I…” The paper settles into his hands, awkwardly cradled between his palms. It’s a jambon-beurre, he wants to say, or, it’s pronounced casse-croûte, but he can’t manage it over the ringing in his ears, an alarm set off from far away. “I haven’t even ordered anything…”

“I told you, didn’t I?” She rocks on her toes, just once, her smile stretched wide. “I keep one ready,  hoping you’ll drop by.”

That’s not quite the way she put it before, he’s sure, but with Gojo’s finger pressed to a temple, he couldn’t say why. “Oh. Thank you.”

“I don’t know what it is you do with your hands or whatever, but” —she rotates her shoulders, one after the other, a fine display of physical fitness— “I can’t complain with the results. My neck feels wonderful after you’re done. A sandwich is the least I can do.”

There’s far, far less she could be doing— that most people do, whether they mean to or not— but that’s not what he says. No, instead he catches that little tail of her curse lashing from the corner of his eye, and asks, “And how are you doing now?”

That gets a blink out of her, a recoil that drives her one step back. A much safer distance, in his opinion. “Excuse me?

“You’re all right, aren’t you?” He’s too large a man to follow her forward or even bend down in inquiry; he knows all too well how intimidating all hundred and eighty-four of his centimeters will be to a girl her size. He’d gotten more than his fair share of kicks aimed at his shins-- courtesy of his much more…vertically challenged senpai--before he’d learned that fact for good. “Feeling well? Sleeping well? Nothing—?”

The bell jingles behind him, and Nanami steps aside as a customer elbows past, eyes reserved solely for the chalkboard hung on the brickwork.

“I’m doing fine,” she murmurs, absent, attention drawn to where the customer stops just short of the till, shooting out his order rapid-fire as her employee keyed it into the cash register. With a shake, she turns back to him. “I supposed I can’t really complain. I mean, except for this little twinge—”

Her fingers brush over the joint between neck and shoulder— right where that little bastard curls his tendril tighter, siphoning off a sip of her pain— and then skitter away, knocked askew by the next customer through the door. At least this one mutters an apology before they skirt past, bobbing a bow as their companion comes around the other side, asking, “Have you tried the sandwiches here? I’ve heard they’re to die for.”

“Ah, sorry.” The baker wrings her hands as another glut of customers traipse through the doors, louder this time, debating their orders only a few steps away. “I guess the lunch rush is starting early today. If you don’t mind, I could just—”

“Don’t worry.” He raises a hand to ward off her apologies, shaking his head. “I’ve taken too much of your time already.”

“No, I—”

“Thank you again for the sandwich.” He holds up the bag, offering her a faint smile. It’s the least he can do, when she’s already been so kind. “I can just—”

“Wait!” Fingers brush over his sleeve, dimpling 100% cotton but flinching away before they can meet the more solid barrier of his flesh. “Ah, I just thought…after the rush, I can have someone watch the till. And maybe” — she glances up at him, eyes far too wide, too hopeful to be aimed at him— “I could take you to dinner? As a thank you, I mean.”

He blinks. “It’s lunch.”

“Oh!” Her hand claps to her cheek, the pink blooming there all the more obvious for it. “Right, of course. How silly of me. But maybe I could, um…”

Both their eyes drop to the bag clutched in his hand, still hanging between them. “You already gave me mine,” he reminds her, gently.

“Right, of course I did. But I mean…” She grimaces, gaze darting to the windows. “Coffee? Not here. But, um, elsewhere?”

You’ve got to watch out for women, Nanami-kun. Even now he remembers how Gojo-senpai’s glasses glinted under the summer sun, the slant of his grin hiding an edge while Geto-senpai shook his head. They’re always trying to get you to a secondary location.

What for? Nanami had asked, only fifteen and already suspicious of the advice his senpai doled out with the same enthusiasm creepy old men on street corners did candy.

One long, pale finger pressed to his lips. I’ll tell you when you’re older.

Ridiculous to think of it now, when this baker is only wanting to thank him. When his only reason for accepting is to understand how to rid her of that stupid fly-head once and for all.

It chitters on her shoulder, bug eyes cocking, curious. As if it could sense even a fraction of his malevolent intention. As if it were just becoming cognizant enough to realize he might be an enemy.

“I suppose…” The words ring out in too high a register, and he clears his throat. “Coffee would be nice.”

*

“I’m sorry to make you wait.” The baker is flushed when she hurries out to meet him, tossing a warning glare through the glass doors at the two cashiers waving them off. “I never thought it would last that long!”

Without the red beret and chef’s coat, she might well be a stranger, the sort he might pass on the station platform without even a second glance. Perhaps he has before, eyes only drawn for a moment by the fluttering of her hair— so different now that she’s released it from the care of its holder— before he let them slip away. “It was no trouble at all.”

“It was an hour and a half,” she laughs, shaking her head. “Honestly, you’d think if the rush started early, it’d have the decency to end early. But at least we don’t have far to go— the café’s just around the corner.”

“So close?” He’s not sure about the wisdom of eating at the competition, but the question doesn’t make her skip a step, even though she takes two to three for every one of his, no matter how he tries to slow his pace. “That seems like a…conflict of interest.”

“Oh, no, not at all. They have a metro stop right on the other side of this street, so they get customers from that station, and we get ours from the one right outside, so it’s just like…ships passing in the night, or whatever. But I come here sometimes when I get tired of the coffee we make.”

He blinks down at her, tracing the haphazard line of her part. For as much care as she’s taken to straighten her clothes, it seems letting her hair down had been a last minute decision, a few strands falling astray. “You get tired of your coffee?”

“Not really,” she admits, slanting a smile up at him. “But it’s good to get away sometimes. Put a little distance between me and my work, if you know what I mean.”

Nanami lets his mouth hook at a corner. “I think I do.”

Her breath catches, right before her eyes slip away, catching on a chalk sign board. “Ah, um, here it is. Do you mind sitting outside? It’s nice today.”

It is— warm enough that when he slings his jacket over the back of his chair, the breeze is still pleasant. Summer hasn’t quite arrived, but its perfume unfurls over the city, enticing its denizens to linger, to let the sun wash over them for just a few minutes longer each day.

He lets his eyes shutter, just for a moment, wind running its fingers through his hair. “This is quite nice.”

“Isn’t it?” The baker— ah, Sayo, he supposes, at least with her out of uniform— slides into the seat across from him, propping her chin up with a hand. “Our sandwiches are better, that’s for sure, but I wish we had the square footage for an outdoor space like this. I’d need another full employee to bus those tables, but— ah, just ignore me! I didn’t bring you here to complain about business stuff.”

“It’s quite alright.” Better, actually, since it gives him the excuse to segue into, “You were saying your neck was getting tight again?”

“Well, yeah, it’s getting that way lately, right up around— ah, no wait!” The hand she’d lifted to her neck falls onto her cheek instead, covering an embarrassed giggle. “I’m taking you out to thank you! Not to fish for, er, well…”

“It hadn’t crossed my mind,” he assures her, letting his mouth curve into a softer shape. “But I’m happy to know that I’ve been able to help, at least a little.”

“More than little!” she insists with a laugh. “I don’t know what it is you do, but I even sleep better after. Better than any massage I’ve ever gotten!”

“Glad to hear it.” If only glares could exorcise curses, the fly-head on her shoulder would already be withered, just black energy flaking off in the breeze. But instead it just wriggles its eye stalks at him, undaunted. “But it is getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Oh, well, maybe just a twinge here and there.” Even as she waves him off, her hand lifts, working at that joint where the fly-head sits, eating his fill. “You know, the regular amount of stress.”

“Really.” Nanami leans over the table, attentive, the fly-head quivering under his stare. “Or would you say you have more than the usual amount of stress? More…complex problems?”

“What?” Her mouth hooks, rueful. “You mean aside from all the regular problems of running a bakery?”

“Oh.” He blinks, settling back. That’s right; she owns a business. Not in itself enough to spawn these little pests, but possibly a contributing factor. “Of course, that must be difficult. You seem to be doing so well, I hadn’t even considered…”

“Very well,” she informs him with no little pride. “But you know how it is. There’s always a machine that’s breaking or a dough that doesn’t rise right, or a batch that comes out wrong. The nature of the beast, or whatever.” She shrugs, unruffled. “I’m just lucky that it was doing so well when I took over. Keeping an already profitable business in the black is a heck of a lot easier than trying to drag one out of the red. Or worse, starting one from scratch!”

His brows raise, appraising her. “It wasn’t your business to start? So you bought it off the former—?”

“Oh, no no no.” She waves a hand, laughing. “No way, I could have never afforded something like that. It used to be my parents’— my mother’s really. But she died while I was in uni, so I picked up a few shifts around the place to help my dad out. But then he got sick a few years back, and…”

She strives for casual when she shrugs, but he can see the jagged edges in it, the places where a little fly-headed bastard could really stick its proboscis in and cause trouble. “My younger brother’s at university now, trying to be some sort of engineer. With Mom gone and Dad pretty much retired, someone has to make the money to get him through the rest of his degree. And that’s not even talking about Dad’s treatment…”

“That’s a lot for someone your age.” And would certainly explain how these curses keep glutting themselves on her the second he turns his back.

“Oh!” Her laugh is softer this time, accompanied by a delicate flush across her cheeks. “I’m not…I’m not that young.”

Nanami cocks his head, mouth flirting with a frown. “You’re younger than me, clearly.”

“Maybe. I’m twenty-seven.” She sighs over her coffee, chin in hand. “You know, my grandmother likes to remind me she was married at my age. With three kids! I’m lucky to keep a plant alive.”

He doesn’t realize his mouth is open until he closes it to swallow his, “Ah…”

“What?” Her head tilts, playful. “Can’t believe it? I know, everyone says I have a babyface.”

“No, it’s not that. I mean, you do have a very youthful face.” He wouldn’t have placed her above twenty-two, and even then, it would have been a stretch— but that’s not why he clears his throat, his own face suddenly hot. “It’s just…I’m twenty-five.”

“Oh!” It’s her turn for her eyes to go wide, for her own jaw to slacken in disbelief. “You’re a baby!”

A scowl slips out of him before he thinks to suppress it. “Only two years younger.”

“You’re almost my brother’s age.” A corner of her mouth twitches; she ducks her chin to hide it. A futile exercise when he can already see the way her shoulders shiver. “Practically in the cradle.”

“I think,” he says, testing out each teasing step of his tone as if it might give out beneath him. “You’d be hard pressed to find one that would fit me.”

Her gaze cuts across the straight line of his shoulders. “That’s for sure.”

They both take a sip of their coffee— regular for him, two creams, no sugar, and hers some a latte of some sort, the pattern in the cup long since gone. He’d been too distracted to even look at what it was. Strange; it was the sort of detail he liked to note in the coffee shops he visited. A good artist usually denoted a high quality café, and if there was one thing his former life had shown him, it was that every bit of luxury was well-worth the price you paid for it.

“It’s funny.” She’s quieter now, more thoughtful as she speaks. Slower, even, as if she’s savoring the taste. Or perhaps the moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone about this sort of stuff. You know, my mom, my dad. Daisuke’s tuition. Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve really talked to anyone since my mom died. Not about real stuff.”

He hums, sipping at his drink. The bitterness floods his mouth; an apt flavor for when he says, “It’s hard to talk about grief with those that haven’t experienced it.”

Sayo glances up at him. “Have you?”

It’s impossible not to remember Haibara and his quick laugh, the boyish face that never missed a chance to smirk or smile. Boyish— ha, of course. He’d never had the chance to be anything but. Right at the cusp of manhood, plucked from the precipice before he could fall over it. Hardly the only friend he'd lost during those years, just...the first. The hardest.

“Yes.” He clears his throat, blinking away the sting in his eyes. “You could say that.”

She’s quiet for a moment, contemplating her cup. “Does it ever get easier, do you think? Carrying it around like this?”

“I think it only gets different.” Easier to forget about in the moment, at least, but perhaps that’s because Haibara was a only friend, not family, and certainly not...something more complicated. Just someone he knew for a few brief years in his life. “But it’s easier when you talk to people who have suffered in the same way. Harder to find, but they are here, if you look.”

Her head tilts, her mouth matching its angle. “Like you.”

Ah, that was foolish of him. Here he is trying to close the door on this world, and he's gone and practically held it open for her to slip through. “I don’t think that’s….”

His tongue trips over itself, tangling as his gaze darts somewhere, anywhere but her eyes and finds— the fly-head. Significantly smaller now, chittering angrily.

“I suppose,” he sighs, wearily. “If you need too.”

“Then we should exchange contacts, shouldn’t we?” She plucks her phone from her purse, giving it a cheeky little wave. It’d be charming, if he didn’t know what a terrible idea this would be. “If we’re going to talk, that is.”

“Of course.” He slides his own out of his pocket, passing it over hers until it beeps. Hamasaki, it reads, Sayo.

“Oh, Nanami!”

A shivers shoots up the length of his spine before fizzling out to his fingers. “Excuse me?”

“Ah, I mean, that’s your name, Kento-san. Kento Nanami-san,” she says, mouth hidden behind her hand. “I just thought it was funny because I’m, well, Sayo.”

He could hardly forget it, the way that paper had haunted him the past few months. “I know.”

“Oh, right, you would have already…” Her cheeks flare a brighter red. “I just thought it was interesting, since the characters of your name are seven and sea, and mine is…”

He blinks, the meaning suddenly resolving in the single character. “Sand.”

“Right.” Her mouth splits wide, into a smile that takes the breath right from his lungs. “We go together, don’t we?”

“I…” It’s terrible how nice that sounds. A coincidence meant for a better man than him. “I should really go.”

“Oh, right! I’m sure my employees will be wondering where I’ve gone off to.” She shakes her head. “Well, anyway, thank you for talking to me, Kento-san. It was…nice.”

It was. Nice. Normal. That’s half the problem. She begins to stand, and before he can stop himself, Nanami blurts out, “Wait. One more thing, if you don’t mind.”

She blinks at him, wide eyed. Too hopeful, once again. “Sure.”

His hand sweeps over her shoulder; a solid, unbroken line. The simplest spell in his repertoire, the first he ever learned. The knit of her sweater tickles the pads of his fingers-- too close, he realizes, sloppy-- and he can't tell whether it's that or the worm's collapse that causes the static to rush through them, both numb and too sensitive all at once. He draws back, arm dropping to his side, and Hamasaki-san—

She’s flushed, breath rattling out of her with noticeable effort.

“There was something on your sweater.” It’s not quite a lie, but still. “Have a good afternoon.”

“R-right,” she murmurs, just barely audible as he strides past. But it’s him that stutters to a stop when she calls out to him on the street, bouncing on her toes as she promises, “Don't forget! I’ll be keeping a sandwich in the case for you.”

[megalony]

Like Father, Like Son- Part 12

I know I am up and down with updates for this series but I had some imspiration so I hope everyone will enjoy it, feedback is always lovely. Get ready for emotions.

aglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr​ @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez-blog​ @jonesyaddiction​ @milanosaurus @httpfandxms​ @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​ @mrsalwayswritex​ @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @crazylittlethingg​ @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod​ @ceres27​ @avyannadawn​

Series masterlist: @lharrietg @viking-raider @coldmuffinpartycloud​ @kikisparadise18​ @everydaymultifandom @deangal-101 @thevelvetseries​ @alexa-fangirl-forever​ @its-me-meg​ @misshale21​ @fanfictionaddiction99​ @moonlacebeam​ @rebelliouscat​ @inanna999​ @mylittlecrazyworldofinterest​ @joviejuliette @mandybug39 @geekwritersworld​ @melisssaa​ @angelcavill66​ @lostinlifexx @greensleeves888​ @comboboo​ @leyannrae​ @myartistrash02​ @yourdaydreamerfan @pretty-pillow-princess​ @bicyhot1​ @springholland​ @kingliam2019​ @michelehansel​ @tomhiddlestonlove15 @sarahjoestewy-blog​ @1007grace​ @art-estrange​ @little-brattyangel​ @rhilee91​ @cassiaodinsdottir​ @eileen-stuff @swthxrry​ @mis-lil-red​​ @a7texas @f1-hoff​

Series masterlist

Summary: Henry and (Y/n) have five children together meaning their lives are always busy and complicated. But their family is tested when their eldest son decides to take his anger out on (Y/n).

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why doesn't Charlie get the school bus home?" Reaching his hand out, Harvey tugged on Angel's backpack to stop her from running off before he took her hand in his and kept her at his side. She had a tendancy for hurrying off and when her mind wandered, she didn't take any notice of the roads. He didn't want her running near the road and getting told off.

His head turned so he could look up at (Y/n) who was holding onto Peter's hand, the four of them leaving the nursery playground.

Harvey knew there was a school bus at Charlie's school, he had heard him talking about it before but Charlie never went on the bus. (Y/n), Henry or their grandparents always picked him up and brought him back home. Harvey's school didn't have a bus.

"He doesn't like the bus, the kids are too loud."

Charlie's new school was proving to be a lot better suited to him and he had different kids his age with a range of disabilities and learning levels. He seemed to cope around them just fine, but the bus was a different matter. Most of the kids on the bus were too loud and wwith it stopping to let everyone off, the journey was too long for him to handle. He just wanted to get home and chill out, he didn't like waiting around when his stop wasn't the first off the bus.

"Why don't we have a school bus?"

"Because most of the kids live nearby, honey. Come on, everyone in the car we need to go get Charlie."

(Y/n) unlocked the car and leaned down to pick Peter up. He was almost eight and it was getting a bit hard to pick him up most of the time but he was always determined to be picked up and cuddled and held like a toddler. (Y/n) was finding that if she refused to pick Peter up, he became very vocal rather than his usual, mute timid self. He would start to scream and cry and stomp his feet until he went red in the face and she had no choice but to pick him up in order to calm him down.

And Peter could get so overly upset about the smallest things, like if the pasta sauce was different he would cry. Tiny things seemed to really bother him but nothing more than him wanting to be attached to (Y/n)'s hip and then getting irritated when he couldn't be.

(Y/n) prayed to God that if Peter ended up being diagnosed with something, he wouldn't turn out like Charlie. She loved the bones of Charlie, but (Y/n) couldn't go through all that again.

She couldn't be ringing Henry up saying she was frightened Peter was going to hurt her the way Charlie would. Or calling him to say she'd been stabbed or punched or kicked. They were barely starting to get Charlie's moods and tantrums under control, there was no way with six kids that (Y/n) could have two of them starting to abuse her.

"There you go," She whispered quietly when Peter was buckled in and she pressed a kiss to his forehead while Harvey got Angel into her car seat.

"Can I ride in the front?"

"Yeah, Charlie needs to be in the back from now on anyway."

Charlie's moods were getting a lot better and with Athena here, she was proving a great distraction for him. But when they were in the car, (Y/n) and Henry had both decided Charlie needed to be in the back so if he had a tantrum, threw himself about or screamed, he wasn't in the way of whoever was driving. His stimming was also getting a lot more noticeable, as well as waving his hands or clicking his fingers, Charlie was starting to rock and sway a lot as a way to release energy and focus himself.

It was very distracting when (Y/n) was driving.

"Is daddy at home? I want to see daddy," Angel kicked her feet out and lightly tapped her fingers on the window, staring at the back of (Y/n)'s head waiting impatiently for an answer. Henry had been working all of yesterday and last night, she was desperate for him to come home so she could show him her drawings and cling to him.

"Yeah, but he's in bed at the minute babygirl, you'll have to wait for him to wake up." (Y/n) smiled to herself at the little whine of protet Angel let out but she couldn't help but smile, knowing Henry would at least be home when they got there.

It didn't long to get to Charlie's school annd (Y/n) parked up out front but stayed in the car to wait for him. Charlie was more than capable of running out and finding the car, although he would be surprised. Usually (Y/n) got exercise with the pram and walked all the way here to get him, it wasn't that often she came in the car to collect him. But she had to go to the shops so while Henry, Briar and Athena were taking a power nap, (Y/n) went to town and then came to get the kids.

"Hi mum," Charlie ruffled Harvey's hair and playfully pushed his head forward as he climbed into the back and scooted right to the back of the car to an empty seat.

"Hi baby, good day?"

"Yeah, didn't like dinner today, I'm hungry, hungry, hungry." A few more words (Y/n) couldn't quite make out left Charlie's lips on a loop before he started to move the car with how he suddenly began rocking and thumping back into the seat just as (Y/n) started to drive off.

(Y/n) couldn't wait to get them all home, she just wanted to have something to eat and go to bed. Hopefully they would all be tired tody and go to bed tonight without a fuss, it was Thursday after all and towards the end of the week the kids usually started to get sluggish from school.

A thumping headache began to form behind (Y/n)'s eyes when Harvey turned up the CD and rocked his head along with the music, which in turn made Charlie start to bounce in his seat. Added with Angel's loud singing, it left only Peter sitting nice and quietly who was the only one not adding to (Y/n)'s horrid headache. Her eyes did a quick sweep of the kids in the rear-view mirror before she looked back at the road. At least they were all happy, usually car rides were full of squabbling and fights instead of syncronised singing and dancing like this. It was a nice change.

"Sing mummy, you're good at this one,"

"Mum's good at every song, she's a singer, Angel." Harvey turned his head to look back at Angel who only clapped her hands in response, waiting for (Y/n) to sing.

She didn't feel like singing, her head was pounding, but she couldn't refuse when all of them were waiting for her to sing. And Harvey was right, singing was her new profession before she stopped to be a mum. All of the kids were entranced when (Y/n) started to sing and when she sang 'Over the Rainbow', it was the one time she had seen Charlie cry happy tears.

None of them knew what happened next.

One moment, all four kids were as silent as mice, listening to (Y/n)'s entrancing voice fill the car. Then the next, she was screaming.

The jeep ran a red light.

Slamming on the breaks only proved to make them a target for practise and when the jeep pummeled full speed into the driver's side of the car, they went spiralling out of control. Another breaking car collided with the rear end and sent them swivelling back in the other direction and a final collision with the third car sent them down backwards into a ditch by the side of the road.

(Y/n) couldn't breathe. Everything felt like it was on fire, her lungs were squeezing tightly in shock and wouldn't work, her body was rattling like a bag of bones and her skin felt like it was being licked by red hot flames.

Why couldn't she hear anything?

When she tried to turn her head, a shockwave surged up through her neck and buzzed around in her head that was turning to static. It felt awful to have white noise flooding her ears and find everything around her was deathly quiet when she knew it shouldn't be. She should bne hearing the kids screaming and thrashing around in their seats trying to get out. She should hear car horns blaring out and people shouting and trying to help them.

Oh God, she couldn't see!

Why couldn't she see anything? Her brain seemed to realise there was no visuals coming to mind because her eyes suddenly started to focus on colourful blobs and mushed up objects around her. The mixture of grey, black and the occasional brown started to blend together and she finally managed to realise she was staring across at Harvey.

"Mummy!"

"Mum! Mum!"

(Y/n) winced at the sudden volume of Charlie's screeching that finally managed to break through her eardrums and bring her back to the present. The faint sound of car horns finally seemed to ring through the background noise, but it was the kids voices that made (Y/n)'s blood curdle.

"I- I..." She couldn't find any words, what was she supposed to say to them?

Without thinking, (Y/n) rubbed at her sore eyes to make her vision a bit more clearer and tried opening her eyes wider. She could move her arms, that was a good start. She could still feel her legs and her feet were twitching and jerking against the foot pedals which was also good, she didn't have any paralysis.

When she looked down, a quiet murmur left her lips and tears flooded her eyes when she looked at her abdomen. Her stitches had ruptured. Her dark blue top was now turning black from the blood that was soaking into it.

She couldn't feel any pain in her abdomen, or anywhere else for that matter, but her chest did feel tight and somehow awkward.

"Harvey," (Y/n) mumbled his name and slowly turned her head so she was back to looking at him again before her expression turned dark. "Harvey, sweetheart...?" A guttural sob burned at the back of her throat.

He wasn't moving.

His head was slumped down against the door handle and his arms were limp at his sides but (Y/n) could see a splatter of blood against the window where he must have hit his head.

(Y/n) couldn't help the way she cried, she cried like she had never cried before and she slowly moved a trembling hand to rest on the back of his neck. She could feel his pulse and when she moved her hand down, she knew he was breathing which was a good sign. But he wasn't conscious.

"A-Angel... Pete, are you okay?" (Y/n) blubbered through her words and turned her stiff neck as much as she could muster to try and look behind her.

Peter was sat behind the passenger seat with his arms cocooned to his chest and his whole body was shaking. He was crying until he was red in the face but (Y/n) couldn't see any blood on him.

(Y/n) couldn't see Angel, she couldn't turn enough in her seat with how deeply the seatbelt was cutting into her skin and gluing her in place. But she could hear Angel whimpering for Henry and since she wasn't screaming in agony like she did when she got the smallest papercut, (Y/n) guessed she didn't have any nasty cuts or any damage.

"Charlie?"

All she got was a scream in response. Her eyes looked in the rear view mirror and she watched with sorrow in her eyes as her eldest started to scream so loudly she was sure they were all going to go deaf. He was lopsided in his seat in the back of the car, the seatbelt tangled within his arms and his legs were now kicking up at Angel's seat in front of him.

"Off, off get it off! Mummy! Mum!"

"Baby I- I can't move right now." (Y/n) couldn't even get the seatbelt to release from the lock and with how bloodied her top was, she didn't want to move and risk causing any damage to whatever was wrong with her right now. She couldn't climb into the back and wrestle with Charlie's seatbelt no matter how desperately she wanted to so she could calm him down.

"Bitch! cunt, off off off I want out! Fuck you." The amount of curse words spitting from Charlie was unbelievable but what was worse was how he started to jam his elbow into the window and kick Angel's seat with a firery vengence. Sending his sister back and forth in her car seat until she suddenly threw up.

"Charlie, please..."

"I want daddy. Where's daddy?" Angel whimpered whilst wiping her chin on the back of her hand before a big wail left her lips when Charlie managed to kick her shoulder instead of the seat.

Her phone. (Y/n)'s phone was automatically connected to the car when she had it in her bag so if she crashed, it would alert the emergency services. Someone should come and get them out soon.

Moving her hands to the steering wheel, (Y/n) pressed the arrow keys until it came up with Henry's contact and pressed the green button to call him. Even if he couldn't come right to them, if he knew he could meet them at the hospital. The sound of the phone ringing sparked through all of the speakers and sent waves of relief through them all, but all of them simultaniously cried out when it went to voicemail.

He must be asleep. (Y/n) would have to leave a message on his phone. "Henry, we've had an accident... we've crashed so, um, we're all going to hospital. Ring me back, baby, please."

(Y/n) dreaded to think what would happen when Henry eventually woke up and got that voicemail, especially when he would be able to hear Charlie's ranting and Angel's cries. She didn't want to worry him but at the same time, she wanted him to wake up and come down to wherever they were and help. She needed him to meet her at the hospital.

A roaring scream sent everyone cowering until (Y/n) looked in the mirror and realised Charlie had managed to rip the seatbelt from the buckle and throw it so voilently into the window that she was sure it had cracked. He was free from his restraints, but it didn't calm him down much. He continued to babble so quickly (Y/n) didn't know what he was saying and he started to slam his fist into the window either to try and get out or to release his frustrations.

She couldn't stop him so she had to let him carry on.

"Mummy, why's he asleep?"

Peter had managed to slide underneath his belt and into the footwell but when he grabbed hold of the passenger seat and leaned over, he frowned. Why wasn't Harvey trying to reassure him and check if he was okay? Why was he slumped over asleep after they'd crashed?

"No Pete don't touch him, please. Just sit down baby, he's hurt his head."

(Y/n) felt like her heart had broken in her chest when Peter wrapped his arms around Harvey's neck and hugged him along with the chair. Anyone would have thought they were twins with the way they were always together and Harvey was always looking out for Peter and talking up for him. Peter didn't know what to do with himself when Harvey wasn't there.

Reaching across, (Y/n) gently brushed her fingers through Harvey's curls and smoothed them out the way of his closed eyes before she realised something. There was a streak of blood slowly trickling down his nose.

"Oh baby, it's okay, I'm here." She held Harvey's cold hand and closed her eyes, tipping her head back into the headrest.

How long would they have to wait until help came to them?

"Mummy, look." Angel stopped her wails to look out the window when the sound of sirens slowly started to get closer and louder. But the moment she saw the ambulance pull closer to them, her cries started up again with a fierce intent. She didn't want an ambulance. Angel wanted to look out the window and find Henry coming to get her out and take her home. She wanted him here, not anyone else. "I want my daddy!"

"Angel-"

"Where's my daddy?!"

(Y/n) had never heard her scream so loud in her little life like that and she banged her small fists on the window, screaming at the poor paramedics as if they knew where Henry was and were keeping it a secret from her.

Relief had never overcome (Y/n) as fast as it did when a paramedic managed to jam open the driver's side door and let in a fresh wave of air and hope. With the back end of the car being in a ditch it would prove hard to get Harvey out since he was unconscious but (Y/n) knew the rest of the kids could easily climb forward and get someone to help them climb out.

"Hi there, I'm James. Who have we got in here?" The young man was holding onto the car door to stop himself from sliding down the ditch and into the water below.

"(Y/n), m-my kids are with me... two of them are fine, can you get them out first please?" Reaching behind her, (Y/n) held onto Angel's outstretched hand. "Angel, slide out of the seat and climb up front baby."

She needed no more persuasion than that to scramble about underneath her belt and slide down onto the floor with a thump that rocked the car. She kept hold of (Y/n)'s hand and slowly climbed through the gap between her and Harvey but she stopped dead when she noticed the blood on (Y/n)'s stomach.

"I'm alright baby, you get out and wait for Peter." (Y/n) held onto Angel's sides instead of her hand and let her climb onto her lap and move towards James who had his arms stretched out ready to get her.

"Where's my daddy?"

"I don't know but I'm sure he will come and see you very soon,"

(Y/n) watched with beady eyes as Angel was safely set on the side of the road with another paramedic next to the ambulances. At least she was a chatty soul and never minded being around strangers, she wouldn't panic like Peter and Charlie could if (Y/n) had to stay behind and they were stood with strangers.

"Pete, you next."

"No, mummy I want to stay with Harvey." Peter shook his head before he buried his face into the side of Harvey's neck and began to whimper. He couldn't go anywhere and leave Harvey in here alone and asleep. He needed to keep watch over him and make sure he was alright.

"You can watch him for me when he gets out the car baby, I promise. Come on."

It took a lot of persuading before Peter finally relented and kissed Harvey's cheek before he climbed gingerly onto (Y/n)'s lap and let the stranger carry him over to Angel.

"Who have we got in the back?"

"Charlie, baby do you wanna get out now?"

(Y/n) flinched back into her seat and coiled her arms to her chest when Charlie roughly scrambled past her and avoided the paramedic like a wildfire. He scrambled out onto the side of the ditch and clawed his way up and over towards his siblings whilst grabbing and pulling at his hair.

"Please watch him! He's autistic, don't let him near the road please." (Y/n) tried again the fling the seatbelt off whilst she kept her eyes focused on Charlie who suddenly sat down and began to shout and rave. When her belt finally relented, (Y/n) breathed in relief and felt a sudden simmering pain through her chest. Her senses were coming back in waves and now she could suddenly feel the burning pain in her stomach and the aching throbbing in her chest around her ribs.

"Is it just you two left now?" James leaned over to look at (Y/n)'s stomach before he darted his eyes across to Harvey.

"Yes, he's unconscious and hurt his head, can you look him over?" (Y/n) leaned across and took Harvey's hand again before she kissed his temple. "You'll be okay, sweetheart."

(Y/n) gently wrapped one arm around the back of Harvey's neck and leaned his head on her hand so that James could open the door and try to get him out.

He tipped Harvey's head back against the seat and started checking his head and feeling his pulse but now (Y/n) could see the damage to his head. The top left corner of his head was split open and she hadn't realised before that the whole left side of his face and down his neck was drenched in blood. Her hand moved to cover her mouth to stop herself from screaming.

Leaning over, James fiddled with the belt buckle and snapped it free before he moved to motion to a colleague for a stretcher.

"Harvey?" (Y/n) smoothed her fingers through his hair when his head seemed to move just a tiny bit and she could see his eyes moving behind his eyelids.

A scream left her lips when his chest suddenly pushed forward before snapping back into the chair. His head fell to the left and a choking noise bubbled past his foaming lips as he started to convulse. His head continued to slam back into the headrest very harshly and spit and blood bubbled past his pale lips.

Two minutes that stretched into eternity passed by and he didn't seem like he was going to stop.

"I'm going to give him an anti-convulsant, he isn't allergic to anything is he?"

"No,"

He continued to thrash and convulse and foam at the mouth even after the needle was pierced into his elbow and a large amount of medicine was pumped into his veins. Why wouldn't it stop? Why was he having a seizure? How badly had he hit his head for him to suddenly start like this?

After almost five minutes, Harvey finally stopped seizing but (Y/n) couldn't decide which was worse. Watching him convulse made her want to be sick but seeing him suddenly go motionless felt even worse. At least when he was seizing he was moving and making some kind of noise, now he almost looked dead.

Another paramedic came and kneeled near the bottom of the ditch and between them, they hoisted Harvey's limp body out of the car and moved towards a stretcher.

(Y/n) didn't waste any time, she wasn't sitting in the car waiting for them to come back to her and check her over. She didn't care how badly her stomach strained when she climbed out of the car or how her ribs and knee burned when she crawled up the side of the ditch to get onto the road. She needed to be with Harvey.

It dawned on (Y/n) when she hobbled onto the road that something was wrong with her knee, the joint felt out of place and it didn't look so good when she glanced down but she kept most of her weight on her left leg and continued to shuffle forward.

"Miss, we can't put you all in one ambulance, whose going with who?"

A young woman held her hands out towards (Y/n) to try and slow her down and gesture towards Charlie, Peter and Angel who were waiting patiently to see where to go next. Charlie was sitting on the floor, hands covering his ears, feet kicking at the floor and mutterings leaving his lips until he was red in the face. Angel was stood away from him with her thumb in her mouth and Peter was itching towards the stretcher Harvey was on.

What was she supposed to say? (Y/n) wanted all the kids with her in one ambulance so she could keep an eye on them and make sure they weren't panicking or scared or upset. She wanted to go with Harvey in case he had another seizure. She wanted Charlie by her side so if he lashed out no one would try and restrain him. She wanted Peter nearby in case he went into a panic and Angel wanted Henry, not (Y/n).

Moving towards the three of them, (Y/n) pulled Peter close and kissed his forehead.

"Go with Angel and as soon as you get to the hospital, I'll come and get you, I promise."

"B-but Harvey..."

"I have to go with him and I can't leave Charlie either, can you be a big brave boy and watch over Angel for me just like Harvey does, just until we get to hospital?"

(Y/n) had to go with Harvey in case he got worse, she had to. And Charlie had to go with her in case he lashed out. She couldn't have anyone restraining him and at least if he hit (Y/n) no one could tell him off or panic him any further. They had to go together so she needed Peter to stay with Angel, that way they could both get checked over on the way to hospital and then (Y/n) would find them when they got there.

Peter took Angel's hand and the two of them clung to each other while they followed the paramedic towards the closest ambulance.

"Charlie, come on."

"Nope, no no don't want to-"

"Charlie get up, we need to go." (Y/n) didn't wait for a response, she grabbed his arm and pulled as roughly as she could until he did as he was told. She had no time to calm him and prepare him for this because Harvey was already in the ambulance and he needed medical attention.

(Y/n) guided Charlie towards the next ambulance but she ended up dragging him behind her as she hobbled faster when she saw two other paramedics climbing inside, shouting something she couldn't make out.

"I'm his mother, I'm his mother I'm here, what's wrong?"

"He's stopped breathing."

[osapril]

GACHIAKUTA ONE-SHOTS

ZANKA

"Wow!"

"Spectacular!"

"They must be a genius."

Day in and day out, I get called a genius. There's nothing that special about me. I'm good at fighting and that's pretty much it. I don't think I have ever met an actual genius in my life. I want to see the pedestal people put me on, I want to know why they stop and stare. I have never really been good at handling praise. The next day came around. As I arrived back at HQ from another mission, I saw one of my coworkers sitting outside on a bench, reading a book.

Who was it again?

"Zanka, is it?" I asked him.

"Hm... yes, can I help you." He inquired.

"No-no, I don't need anything," I said waving my hands side to side. "I just saw you and wanted to say hi."

"Well, hello..." he replied. He didn't seem like he wanted to chat at all as he went back to reading.

Feeling awkward, I decided to leave. I was just about to walk away, but then I was blocked by a big red bow. Moving my head to the side, I saw two little kids holding what seemed to be a gift basket. Confused, I moved to the side thinking I was in their way, but they followed me as I turned.

"This is for you!" they said in unison.

"M-me?" I said, confused as to why I'd receive such a gift. They passed me the basket, smiling and giggling as I held it.

"We wanted to say thank you for saving our farm!"

"Your farm?" you asked, remembering your previous mission.

"Well, more like a garden. But we worked hard to grow stuff. Those trash beasts have been messing things up for so long." One of the children said.

"We made this gift for you to show our appreciation." The other added.

The kids went on about how cool you were fighting the trash beasts, even going as far as to recreate the moves you did. As blood started to rise to your face, you started feeling sheepish. You looked around for help and landed on the boy you talked to earlier, Zanka. He happened to be watching the conversation between you and the children. You tried to signal for help, but he ignored it by looking in the opposite direction. Sighing, you realized you had to wait for them to finish.

One of the children jumped up in excitement, "You were amazing out there, like, like... like you were some genius!"

A jagged smile formed on your face, feeling embarrassed by what you have been called. "Please don't call me that."

"Why not! You are." One of the children proclaimed.

"I'm, I'm really not." You said, scratching the back of your neck, feeling a sweat coming down.

"It's getting late, I think you kids should head home." You shooed away the children.

As the kids left, you rested your hands on your hips, taking a deep breath and exhaling. "What is all this genius talk about..." You mumbled.

You looked back to the coworker you supposedly called for help still reading his book. You walked up to him, taking a seat next to him on the bench. You tried to make eye contact with him, but his eyes were still focused on the book.

"Thanks for the help back there." You sarcastically said.

No answer from him. Again, feeling awkward, you decided to leave but was stopped when you heard his voice.

"Did those kids call you a genius?" He asked.

"Huh, y-yeah, I guess they did." You replied, still feeling awkward from earlier silence.

The boy softly closed his book and placed it down in between us. He looked over to me with a neutral frown. Our eyes locked together; his eyes sent a slight chill down my spine. It seemed like he was analyzing me.

Before I could say anything, he spoke.

"You don't look like a genius."

"Huh..?" You felt muddled by his statement, not expecting that to come out at all.

"You seem completely average to me." He continued, resting his head on his hand. You wanted to say something but kept silent due to the shocked from his comment. Silence filled the area again, but the two of you were just staring at each other instead. You felt tied as you were trying to come up with something to say. The boy, Zanka, just kept staring at you as you fiddled with your thoughts.

"No need to feel awkward. I don't like geniuses, and it doesn't seem like you do too," He spoke, breaking the silence. "Knowing your average and being average ain't so bad." 

"I guess..." you replied. "You call yourself average?" 

"I used to think I was a genius. I was better than everyone else until someone came and disrupted that." 

He continued to speak to me, explaining in detail how he use to feel about such things, how he got his Jinki, and how he fell from his pedestal. The talk was long and entertaining to listen to. I finally found someone I could relate to, and possibly confide in. 

The two of you continued to talk for hours, not even noticing that the day had become night. After some time, the two of you finally noticed. You offered to continue the conversation as the both of you walked back to HQ. 

Weeks have passed since the two of you met, causing the both of you to get closer. Zanka seemed more and more open about besting geniuses as an average person. You have never felt concerned about geniuses, never even met one. The two of you had met up and continued to chat on the bench where you met.

"Have you met a genius? What were they like?" you asked him.

"I have, and I was completely outmatched. I sat at the top of my class for so long before they came. I got quite the reality check because of them." He said, chuckling as he remembered. 

You smiled as he quietly laughed. You stared at him, admiring his features. You liked and idolized his resolve to become better, and yet remain humble. 

'Geniuses have it easy, but who am I to say.' You thought. 

You placed your elbows on your thighs, resting your head on your hands, cupping your face. You thought momentarily about why you cared about knowing what a genius is for so long.

'It must be because I've been called it for so long. I don't have much of a reason other than that. It must be nice having other reasons for it.'

Getting lost it thought, you hadn't noticed the blond poking your cheek, eventually pinching it. 

"Ouch..!" You squealed, rubbing your cheek. You looked at him, seeing that his face was still, though forming a small smile. You puffed your cheeks, frowning your eyes. You flicked the hand he used to pinch you. He flinched, taking his hand and rubbing the area.

"What's gotten you lost in thought?" He asked.

"I don't know, guess. Maybe I was thinking of you." you joked.

A tint of red formed on the boy's face. He took his hands and covered his face, turning around. A look of surprise appeared on yours. You haven't seen him this flustered before, he always looked professional. You grabbed his shoulders and tried to turn him around, failing. Eventually, he ended up turning on his own, his expression back to his normal calm exterior.

"What could have you thinking of me." He asked calmly.

Wanting to see if you can shake his calm composure, you said, "You seem to want me to think about you. I never said I was, I said guess."

A faint, hardly noticeable blush crept on his face, "Don't be mistaken. I would have never thought that."

"Come on, we've practically been attached for weeks now, it not at all weird to think of each other," You said, shifting closer to him, placing one hand on his shoulder. You pulled him in, catching him in a hug. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were thinking of me." You patted his back as you laughed. 

"Wouldn't be surprised? By the thought, or how much?" He quietly said. 

Hearing this, a blush emerged on your face. Feeling embarrassed, you instinctively covered your face, now hiding yourself from him. Uncontrollable thoughts swarmed your mind, making it harder for you to regain composure. 

How much?

How Much?

How MUCH?!

You drowned away in your thoughts, oblivious to all that's happening. Zanka took a means and placed your head on his shoulder, making sure you were comfortable. He brushed your hair, tucking it behind your ear to clearly see your face. A distinct smile appeared on his face, not the giddy one he makes when Enjin compliments him. A smile that you missed, and may never see again. 

Who knows when he'll show it again?

[pbandjesse]

Today is labor day! And it feels thematically appropriate to finally. Finally. Tell Tumblr the secret I have been holding from the Internet for a month. I am 11 weeks pregnant! And today we finally got to tell my family. So I can also finally tell all of you. It has been incredibly hard to write my posts since July 31st when I first found out. And there are other versions of my posts I had written. So I will have to go back and edit those back. It wasn't all of the days but there is a good handful from the beginning of August!! It has been so hard to not say anything! It's why I've been so sick!

I was so nervous to tell my parents. How would they react?? Would i get the emotional excitement I hoped for?? It's basically all I wanted to talk about yesterday. And thankfully when I got home last night I was able to shower and settle and I was able to sleep pretty well, despite the nerves.

I had brought two flower arrangements home from the wedding. One for me and one for my parents. I was smart and dumped the water from the vases but would fill them up for the overnight. And in the morning they still looked great.

I woke up at 8. With the plan for us to leave at 830. James was making crepes and they looked so cute in their Uganda soccer kit. And I really love my denim dress. I felt good. I was nervous but I didn't feel sick. And I really hoped I could keep that going. Ride that wave as long as I could.

Right before we left I noticed one of my frogs was dead. Covered in snails. And I was so sad. So I think I have no frogs anymore. And it just bums me out so bad. I am just going to have to completely start my tank over. I can't get the snails to stop. It's ruined my tanks environment and it just sucks so bad. James would handle getting my baby frog out and buried. I was just really sad. But I tried to not let it ruin my day. We had a big thing to do.

I went out to the car to move stuff around so there would be room for us to bring our laundry with us to my parents. And soon we were on the road.

I brought a pillow and that made me more comfortable. I never fell asleep but I enjoyed resting and we listened to a podcast and it was not a bad drive at all. We wouldn't have to deal with any traffic and we got to my parents at 1030.

We didn't discuss between, me and James, how we were going to tell them. We had packed a little gift bag, with the ultra sound from my last appointment (remember when I went to see that 'specialist'?) and James picked a fig from the tree to bring with us. I packed it like a gift. And when we got to the house we put the flowers and the gift bag in the kitchen table and just didn't mention it. I would have to decide on the right time.

The dogs didn't bark when we came in. It was like they were so excited they were basically honking??? Mom would come out and was very surprised. But I was so happy to see her.

Dad was still getting ready for the day. So I would have to wait.

We would chill in the living room. And talked about life and just catching up. It was hard to redirect the conversation when Mom would talk about me feeling sick, but also when she brought up our planned Scotland trip. The problem being my expected due date is two weeks before the trip. So I was pretty sure we were going to have to reschedule that. Which makes me a little sad but I knew she would understand.

I went to bother Dad and tell him to hurry up and join us. And soon he would. But I wouldn't tell them yet still.

Around 1130 mom asked if we wanted to order pizza. I had had my two crepes in the car but I absolutely wanted pizza now. I love the pizza place near them. So we would order pizza and James got a cheese steak and mom got a quesadilla.

While we waited for the food to be delivered, mom brought up Scotland again. And I decided it was the right time. I honestly wish I got it on video because she had such an amazing reaction. I told James to get the gift bag and mom was like. Why do I get a gift?? And I'm like well it's kind of a thing for both of you.

She brought out the framed ultrasound first. And she literally stopped mid sentence and goes. No??? You're fucking joking?? Jesse??!! You're joking?? And I go right into explaining, this is why I've been sick. And she ran over to me to give me a hug. And dad is like ??? What is happening, Sharon stop cursing!!! And mom hasn't shown him the frame yet and he wasn't getting it. But we finally hand it to him and he gets it and he go no!! Omg!! And they were both so excited. She claims she didn't cry but I saw the teary eyes. She was so excited. Dad was so excited.

Then I explained the fig. And dad goes. Wow. My grandchild, as he holds it up. And then I explain the whole story. When we were on the cruise I was nauseous. Jess's parents kept saying I was pregnant. I didn't want to take a test until August 1st, despite missing two persons. But when I got off the cruise and was still nauseous I spoke to the camp nurse and she convinced me to take a pregnancy test on July 31. And that evening I did and it was immediate. "PREGNANT". And then I told James. And we high fived. And then the next day we told Charlotte because she was leaving for Spain. On August 2nd I made an appointment for an obgyn but I let them know I had been sick but also I was spotting and they said I needed to go to the ER. So I had to tell Alexi and Heather and Elizabeth because I had to leave camp.

And when I got the the er I got fluids and they confirmed the pregnancy but I also got an ultrasound. Based on my last missed period they thought I might be 10 weeks but I was actually more like 6/7. And I got to see it early. It didn't look like much but I got to see it! And I drew a pictuee of it to show James later.

And then in the ten days between the ER and the OB-GYN appointment I lost 10lbs from being sick. And the midwife was so nice and James got to see them and they still didn't look like much but we got to see their heartbeat. And now I have my next appointment tomorrow. And I'm so nervous because anything and everything can go wrong. And I can't see them because my belly isn't see through so I just have to believe they are growing safely. And I really hope we get to see them tomorrow but I don't actually know if we will because I don't know how often you get ultrasounds. I want to see them every time though, only seems fair.

But they were just so excited. And when the door bell rang with our friends it took everything in mon not to just tell the pizza man that her daughter was pregnant. But it was the main point of conversation for the rest of the day.

Lunch was great. I actually ate 4 pieces of pizza! And I would actually feel pretty well through around 230. We would talk about the research and reading we have done to get ready. The book I'm reading. Things we have learned. Mom told us about her experiences and James finished the laundry between topics. It was just so nice. It was so nice to be able to talk about everything. About the scary things. About me accidently ripping my boobie skin off with kinesiology tape. About how I have had all my eggs since I was a baby inside of Mom. So this baby has always been with us, our whole lives. And it makes me just a little emotional to think about.

And like I am still scared. It could not be growing. It could not be growing correctly

It could be missing organs, or a skull. It could be perfect and then die at the end. Or it can be totally fine and I can come home with a new little person. That looks like me and James. The person I love so much.

And I just have to believe that no matter what happens I will be okay, and it will all work out how it's supposed to. Just how I have always believed.

And James got to talk about their excitement too. They are a little more focused on my health. They are just so worried about me being so sick. But they are also such an amazing support. And I love them so much.

I started feeling not amazing. And we had one more stop at Xavier and Kaitlyn's house. So at 3 we would give hugs all around. Mom and me had gone down to the basement and she gave me a nice new basket and a bunch of pencils for camp. And we got all of that in the car. And said goodbye. It was exciting that we got to give them something to be excited about. I love them so very much.

We left there and headed to our friends. They are about 40 minutes from my parents. And it was really nice to see them. They are expecting as well, and she's only a few weeks behind me! How crazy!! We talked about our different experiences. She said her mom was barely sick and that's been her experience so far, while my mom was sick the whole time and that's my experience too. Rough. But I enjoyed hanging out. They brought us a few little Pokemon things from Japan. And we just talked and caught up and spent an hour and a half there. It was fun.

But I was losing steam. So it was time to go. We said goodbye and headed not. See them soon!!

We would stop at Wawa on the way home. We got drinks and snacks. I got a small hoagie. And it did help me feel a little better. But the drive home would be a bit tough on us

Not much traffic, but our cord wasn't charging right. My phone would get down to 2%. And people were driving terrible. James couldn't stop sneezing. And the sun was so strong and directly in our faces. We couldn't block it no matter what we tried. So it was not a super fun trip back. But we were fine. And we would finally get home at 7.

We got everything inside. And I was just like. I gotta go lay down. James would put our clothes away. And we would just enjoy hanging out and doing our own thing in our bedroom. James worked on writing. I watched videos and scrolled. It was calm.

Eventually I took a bath. I have so many blasters on my feet from last night so the I put in the water hurt but I am sure it helped. And now we are in bed. And I am so ready to sleep. There was so much emotionally charged moments today. Like in the best way but man. I am exhausted.

And tomorrow we get to go to the OB-GYN again. This time we get to meet Dr Hoffman. Of Hoffman and associates! Which is the name of the practice. I get to have appointments with all the drs and midwives so we get to know everyone. I think it's smart. But also a little nerve wracking. You never in now what they are going to tell you. I just hope it's all good news you know?

But now it's time to sleep. I hope you all sleep great. I love you all so much. I will start editing the redacted posts and when I finish that (probably Thursday) I will make a post with the dates of the changes posts! If you want to go back and read them.

Goodnight everyone. Have fun tomorrow!!

[cielles-random-vault]

a lonely confession

part two of my lonely series! though i realised this would've been better if events depicted here would've happened before the ones depicted in the first part but- i'm dumb don't mind me

also ! warnings : implied abuse + small description (being hit because of drunkness)

find part one here!

-Chilling all by yourself carinõ? Asked Miguel as he joined you on the rooftop.

You usually knew him as the strict leader who doesn’t feel anything. But somehow, after he saved you from a near death experience, the two of you instantly became close.

He rapidly knew everything about you, from your favorite color to how you became a spider-person, but also and specially your previous relationship.

It was… chaotic to say the least. As much as you loved your ex-partner, they were not the kind of lover that made you feel validated as a mentally unwell person.

You accepted a lot of things from them, the countless nights waiting for him to come back home, not knowing if he would, cheating, mental abuse and so many other things, but you drew the line at when they started hitting you when they were drunk. It may have happened only once, but to you it was too much. It happened earlier today, during one of the countless days he was drunk. No matter how much you loved them, it was just too much for you to handle for the sake of your mental health.

Now you were sitting here on a rooftop, wondering what you were going to do alone in the streets, with no clothes, no food but most importantly no physical shelter.

-Oh, hello Miguel, you say with an absent smile. I didn’t notice you were here. How’s life recently? You asked, vaguely.

-I’m… alright, but what about you? He asked as he notices your expression felt off.

-Life could be better. Well, it can’t in a way because I got out of my abusive relationship- you know, the one I always talk to you about- they hit me, so I decided it had to end. As much as I feel freed from this relationship I have nowhere to live anymore.  (you laid your back on the floor of the rooftop with your legs dangling in the void, the flashing lights of the animated city of New York below you.) I guess I’ll be able to steal some food here and there but I’m afraid I won’t have anywhere to live anymore.

He took an instant before answering.

-That sounds awful I’m sorry to hear that. How are you feeling?

-I don’t really know. We were together since high school so dumping them was a hard decision. Even though I know it’s for the better, I can’t help but think it’s my fault if it ended. Now I’m here, homeless and with no family to contact.

Even though your family was a sensitive subject, he knew it was a painful topic to approach. You sometimes tried to make jokes about your familial situation “ohh my parents are going to be so disappointed if they saw me now, hopefully they can’t” but everyone know it hurts you deep down.

-I don’t know if it can resolve your problem but you can come live at my place if you want. It has been pretty empty for a while now, and I’m not leaving you alone in this state. 

-Seems like I don’t really have a choice, you chuckle. I’m not complaining though!

The two of you headed to Miguel’s apartment.

His place was a charming little house in the downtown. It was not particularly big, neither had it anything special, but it gave you a strange warmth in your heart. For the first time in your whole life, you truly felt at home.

-Make yourself at home! He said with a frank smile.

-Thank you, you whisper, unused to that kind of kindness.

Time skip to some time- a week, maybe two, even a month? I don’t know but I don’t want the story to be repetitive and I don’t think Miguel is the kind of guy to fall in love fast (that doesn't make any sense since the two of you were long time friends, but you get the thing. Anyway, that was just me rambling so back to the story.

It was some months since you moved in Miguel’s house. You never questioned your feelings towards him: he was your friend and colleague. However, those past few months got you wondering how it would feel to have him as a lover. Whenever these thoughts crossed your mind- which was pretty often- you shook your head to stop them. But, after all that time, you couldn't get those thoughts out of your head. But he was just different when he was with you. He was kind, caring and sweet.

At night when you couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder why, all of a sudden he invited you to live at his place.

Whenever you felt strange, you walked up to the rooftop and tonight was no exception.

Is he in love with me? You ask yourself in a mutter. There’s no way, you think, shaking your head.

As much as you did your best to suppress these thoughts, you secretly hoped they were true.

Is this how it feels to be treated right after years of an abusive relationship? It sure feels great…

-If you keep coming here so often I’m going to feel like you hate me, carinõ. What’s with the avoiding? Asked your best friend.

Your heart skipped a beat when you understood who it was. The more you tried to avoid him – at least when you were in the Spider-Society’s headquarters – the more your feelings for him seemed to grow. 

What was stopping you from being in love with him? It was not cheating - and even if it was it would’ve been nothing to everything your ex made you go through – but you somehow felt guilty for feeling love again. It was probably because of the years of mental abuse and gaslighting, both coming from your family and your ex, but with Miguel, it was different. He made you feel valid.  

-I don’t know… you start. I thought that if I stopped seeing you so often in the headquarters these feelings would stop but they don’t, in fact it’s as strange as if they seem to grow even more the more I try to stop. And I really don’t know why I feel this way; you probably just see me as friend – or even just as a colleague and –

He interrupted you by cupping your face and giving you a kiss on the lips.

You (obviously) kissed him back, not realizing what was happening. Surprisingly, his lips were as soft as silk.

When the two of you pulled back to take your breaths, a lot of questions rushed in your mind. What did it mean? Did that make the two of you official or was he just playing with you?

-Wait. What does this mean?? You ask, confused.

-It means I fell in love with the most wonderful soul in all the universes there possibly can be. He looked into your eyes before cupping your face again. It all made sense now; the helping, him inviting you to stay  at his place, Lyla always asking for you… Everything made sense, especially the strange warmth when you saw his messy morning face… You were simply in love with him, and the most wonderful thing is that he was in love with you too.