#anyways gonna go calm down and jack off sorry for the crash out

[nsfwphightinghcs]

The same person who was accusing me of being a pred and a groomer in my inbox is back to talking about me on their blog LMAOOO

I almost forgot about them 🥀🥀

[latexb0n3z]

Unrequited Love, Lots Of Blow, and a Visit From Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man

CW; self-harm, sexual mentions, drug use, mental illness yadayadayada.

This was kind of a vent in some weird way. Crashed out earlier and had to write something to cope.

Logan woke up to the sound of something(s) shattering. Again.

“Goddammit, Wade,” he muttered, dragging himself off the couch. It wasn’t even 8 AM, and his roommate was already tearing through the place like a tornado.

Roommate. Logan still wasn’t sure how the hell that had happened. Wade had been crashing at his place “just for a few days” six months ago, and somehow, he’d never left. Logan had considered kicking him out more times than he could count, but something about the mercenary’s manic energy—and the raw, broken humanity underneath it—kept him from following through.

Logan pushed open the door to Wade’s bedroom, which looked like a war zone. Clothes, weapons, and takeout containers were scattered everywhere, and Wade stood in the middle of it, panting, holding the remnants of a lamp in his hand.

“Morning, sunshine,” Logan grunted. “What’s this about?”

Wade didn’t look at him. His face was bare, his scars catching the dim morning light. “It was an ugly lamp anyway.” The more Logan looked, the more was wrong. There was blood, literally everywhere. The bathroom mirror was broken, glass and MORE blood everywhere— the living room was a disheveled mess, a broken bottle of Jack, and a shattered cup like Wade had just grabbed the first thing that was near.

Logan crossed his arms. “You gonna tell me what’s really going on, or should I start charging you for broken furniture?”

Wade flinched, then dropped the lamp base to the floor with a clatter. “What’s the point, huh? You don’t care.”

Logan frowned. “You think I’d let you live here if I didn’t care?”

Wade laughed, sharp and bitter. “Let’s not kid ourselves, Logan. You let me stay because you feel sorry for me. Big, bad Wolverine, taking pity on the ugly stray.” He gestured to himself. “Well, guess what? I don’t need your charity! I’ll leave— and like you said, it’s ‘God’s best joke that I can’t die’ and it’s on all of us!” Even though dying is all he wished he could do.

Logan stepped forward, his voice low and steady. “This about the girl?”

That did it. Wade’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing. “Oh, so you did notice. Good for you, Sherlock.” He took a shaky breath, his words spilling out in a torrent. “Yeah, it’s about her- and everything else- and- and, It’s about how you’ve been all smiles and soft eyes around her. How you go out on these little dates, come home smelling like flowers and happiness or whatever the hell normal people do!”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You jealous?”

Wade barked out a laugh, but it sounded more like a sob. “Oh, I’m so jealous, Logan. Not because I want her or anything—God, no. I’m jealous because she’s… she’s normal. She’s pretty, and soft, and someone you could actually care about.”

His voice cracked, and his hands clenched into fists. “Not like me. Not like this.” He gestured to his scarred face, his mismatched, worn-down body. “You could never like something like me, right, Logan?”

Logan stared at him, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the room was silent except for Wade’s heavy breathing, his manic pacing, his sniffles.

“You done?” Logan finally asked.

Wade blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I said, are you done?” Logan stepped closer, his voice gruff but calm. “Because if you’re waiting for me to tell you you’re wrong, I’m not gonna do it.”

Wade’s face crumpled, but Logan kept going.

“You’re a pain in the ass, Wade. You’re loud, and messy, and half the time, I don’t know whether to strangle you or buy you a drink.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But you’re wrong about one thing. I don’t let you stay here because I feel sorry for you. I let you stay because you’re worth putting up with.”

Wade looked up, his eyes glassy. “You’re just saying that to make me stop crying and breaking things!”

Logan snorted. “Trust me, I’m not the type to say things I don’t mean. And I don’t give a damn what you look like.”

Wade swallowed hard, his hands shaking. “I don’t believe you.”

Logan grabbed him by the shoulders, his grip firm but not unkind. “Then believe this: If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here. Got it?”

Wade nodded slowly, his breath hitching.

“Good,” Logan said, letting go and stepping back. “Now clean this mess up before I start charging you for rent.”

But Wade didn’t move and inch. He just looked down at the floor, and cried and cried. He just stood there, vulnerable, without any quips or witty comments to defend himself. Logan thought it was a pain in the ass, but he was still himself— empathetic no matter just how much he wanted to just tell the son of a bitch to get out.

“Wade?” He was sort of at a loss for words. Wade having outbursts wasn’t anything new— but just… standing there, crying. That was a sight to behold. His expression dropped,

“You have no idea, Logan.”

“You think you’re special, bub? I’ve been alive for two-hundred fucking years. I saw the invention of machine guns for one. You have no fucking clue what ideas I have, Wade.”

Wade finally looked up at him, his milky, yellowed eyes glazed over.

“Do you think I’m hideous?”

“What? I just said I don’t give a shit what you look like.”

“That wasn’t my question. I didn’t ask if you cared- I asked if I’m hideous.”

Logan gave him a once over. Wade already had the answer made up in his mind regardless of what Logan said.

He didn’t think Wade was hideous, but he wasn’t attracted to him by any means.

“Okay, Wade! Yes, fine, you’re hideous— that’s what you wanna hear right?! Seems like you’ve already made up your damn mind about the answer.”

Wade gave a half smile, and then just turned on his heel and left, slamming the door so hard it made the whole apartment vibrate.

—

And then weeks passed, and Wade never returned. He’d left all his things there, and Logan considered throwing them out after a while. He’d even left his mask on the couch, which Wade never left without.

Annie was her name, the girl. Soft, brown eyes and strawberry blonde hair, and a round face full of freckles. She wore blouses and skirts, and wedges with white little bows on top.

And Logan liked her. Loved her even. Fell for her harder than he’d wanted to. At first their relationship was casual— cute little dates that made Logan feel normal. And the best part— she was a mutant too. It was nothing impressive, mild telekinetic abilities. She could lift small objects from across the room and shut doors without touching them.

She was peaceful, and domestic and a soft body to lay on. He felt safe with her. She’d spend nights at his place since Wade had left- cooked food for him and let him rest his head on her lap while he stroked his head. Things had gotten serious between them in the weeks Wade had been gone.

They had hot, passionate, electrifying sex- made each other laugh so hard they cried and kissed- and then had more sex. Logan would take her against the counter, in the bathroom, on the couch, in the bedroom. Parts of their lives mingled together. Some of his stuff stayed at her place, and parts of her lived at Logan’s. It was unlike anything he’d had in a long long time.

Meanwhile Wade had been doing as much blow as possible and fucking off. Logan wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard from him. Nobody had. He was torturing himself. He knew he couldn’t die, but he could feel pain. One night he’d played Russian roulette with himself off so much coke it would kill a normal human. He savored what intoxication he could get from alcohol for a couple minutes before the joy was killed by his healing factor.

He’d shoot himself in the head, blow his brains out only to come right back with only half the memories. He’d slit his own throat to choke and watch his ever replenishing blood gush out. He’d cut his fingers off one by one after each line, only to watch them grow back after a couple of hours.

He hadn’t showered in weeks, and smelled like death, blood and straight ass. He didn’t change his clothes, didn’t speak to anyone. Just restarted the same routine he did when Vanessa died. Trying to kill himself but never really dying.

Oh how he missed her. He wondered what she would say to him now, what she would think of who he was. He wondered if she’d be horrified seeing him, or if she’d have loved him anyway. He’d escaped the Weapon X program only to find out from Weasel that she’d been shot and robbed while hooking after he’d disappeared.

He’d had a couple years to reconcile with that… only to fall in love with Logan. What a fucking idiot he was, right?

Unrequited— though he knew Logan had considered him… sort of a friend.

Wade knew he was a pain in the ass, and pissed himself off too most of the time.

It didn’t matter though. He was hundreds of miles away from his life now, taking his shit show all the way to New York City, in the good old United States of America.

—

The New York alley smelled like garbage and rain, a mixture Wade found oddly comforting. The dumpster beneath him was cold and sticky in a way he didn’t want to think too hard about, but it didn’t matter. He was home. Or something like it.

He lay flat on his back, arms spread out like he was trying to make a snow angel on the grimy metal surface. His mask was half-pulled up, just enough to let him belt out an off-key rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart.

“There’s nothing I can dooooo… a total eclipppse of the heaaaart!” he howled, his voice echoing through the narrow alley.

Somewhere nearby, a rat squeaked in protest.

“You’ve got an audience,” came a voice from above.

Wade froze mid-note, craning his neck back to see a familiar figure hanging upside down by a thin strand of webbing. The bright red-and-blue suit was unmistakable.

“Spidey!” Wade gasped, sitting up so fast he nearly fell off the dumpster. He was hopped up on cocaine, meth, angel dust, anything he’d managed to get his hands on tonight. “My second-favorite insect-themed hero! What brings you to my garbage palace?”

Spider-Man tilted his head, his mask’s lenses narrowing. “You’re laying on a dumpster and singing power ballads. Should I be concerned, or is this just a Tuesday for you?”

“Wednesday, actually,” Wade corrected, wagging a finger. “And I’m celebrating my triumphant return to the Big Apple! Came here with nothing but a bag of cash and a dream. And maybe some mild emotional baggage. But mostly the cash.”

Spider-Man flipped down to the ground, landing lightly. “I’m pretty sure that was illegal cash.”

“What isn’t, these days?” Wade said, waving him off. “Besides, it’s not like I’m hurting anyone. Unless you count your ears.”

Spider-Man crossed his arms. “You’re avoiding the question. Why are you really here, Wade?”

Wade leaned back against the dumpster, sighing dramatically. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s a tale as old as time. Boy meets mutant, mutant moves in, mutant gets jealous of said boy’s weirdly functional romantic life and flees to New York to sulk in an alley and reevaluate his choices.”

Spider-Man blinked. “Okay, wow. That’s… more personal than I expected.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the Deadpool Show.” Wade gestured broadly at himself. “We like to keep things raw and unscripted. Keeps the audience engaged.”

Spider-Man crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees. “Look, I know we don’t… vibe exactly, but you seem like you’re going through something. Do you need help?”

Wade laughed, a sharp, hollow sound. “Oh, Spidey, my sweet, built like a gymnast summer child. I’m beyond help. I’m like a car that’s been totaled, set on fire, and then run over by a tank. But thanks for asking.”

“You’re not that bad,” Spider-Man said, though his tone was hesitant.

“Aw, you think I’m redeemable,” Wade said, clutching his chest. “You’re adorable! Like a little web-slinging therapist.”

“Seriously, Wade. You don’t have to do… this,” Spider-Man said, gesturing to the dumpster and the alley. “Whatever’s going on, there’s got to be a better way to deal with it than running away and singing ‘80s ballads in the rain.”

“It wasn’t raining when I got here,” Wade pointed out. “But, fine, I’ll bite. What do you suggest, Dr. Spidey?”

Spider-Man hummed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Maybe talk to the person you’re running from instead of hiding out here. Have an actual conversation.”

Wade snorted. “You think I’m the ‘talking about my feelings’ type? Adorable. Really, top marks for optimism. I already tried- got blood all over the poor guys’ apartment and broke his mirror… Oh- you know Wolverine- Wolvie- Logan? Yeah he’s alive again and I haaaave itttt bad, Spidey.”

Spider-Man sighed. “Wolverine… like? Like… The X-men’s Wolverine? He died! How the hell is he alive again?— wait, don’t tell me he came from a different universe or something.”

Wade tilted his head, clicked his tongue and made finger guns, “Ding Ding Ding! That’s exactly right.” He dropped his hands but remained looking up, studying Spider-Man for a long moment. “You’re way too good for this city, you know that? It’s like watching a Disney protagonist in Gotham.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Spider-Man said dryly.

Wade slid off the dumpster, landing with a flourish. “Fine. You win. I absolutely cannot go back to Canada anytime soon but— I will try to stop doing massive amounts of narcotics and cutting off my limbs are even though they just regrow.”

“You’re really a strange guy, you know that, Wade?”

“Yes— quite intimately actually. Very large part of the reason I’m torturing myself out here in the good old United States of America.”

Spider-Man rolled his eyes. “Quit your sulking, grab my hand.”

Wade raised a… well… what would be his eyebrow if he had any, but said, “Fuck it,” and took his hand.

Suddenly, he was suspended in the air, wind whipping past his ears as they swung through the towering skyline of New York. Wade let out a loud, exaggerated scream. “OH MY FUCK, SPIDEY, THIS IS THE CLOSEST I’VE BEEN TO FLYING SINCE THAT TIME I STRAPPED FIREWORKS TO MY BACKPACK!”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Spider-Man shouted back, his voice barely audible over the rush of the wind.

“BECAUSE I’M AN ICON OF CHAOS!” Wade cackled, twisting his body mid-swing to strike a pose, one hand outstretched dramatically. “LOOK AT ME! I’M PETER PAN BUT WITH MORE TRAUMA!”

Spider-Man groaned. “Do you ever stop talking?!”

“Do you ever stop being an uptight boy scout?” Wade shot back.

Spider-Man didn’t dignify that with an answer, instead twisting midair and flinging a web to the next building. The sudden shift sent Wade swinging wildly, his legs flailing.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” Wade yelled, clutching Spider-Man’s arm like a terrified cat. “Careful there, Spandex Man! Some of us are delicate flowers who bruise easily!”

“You literally can’t die,” Spider-Man said, exasperated.

“Emotionally, Spidey!” Wade quipped. “Emotionally!”

Spider-Man sighed, expertly landing on a rooftop and depositing Wade less-than-gently on the gravel.

Wade sprawled out on his back, catching his breath. “That was either the most fun I’ve ever had, or I’m having a stroke. Maybe both.”

Spider-Man stood over him, hands on his hips. “You’re impossible.”

“Ha! Logan says that too!” Wade sat up, pulling his mask back down. “So, what’s the plan, boss? You didn’t just web-nap me for a heart-to-heart, did you?”

Spider-Man crossed his arms. “I didn’t exactly plan this. But you’re clearly in a mood, and I figured some fresh air might knock some sense into you.”

“Aw,” Wade cooed, “you do care about me! Admit it. I’m growing on you, like a sexy barnacle.”

“Don’t push it.”

Wade leaned back on his hands, glancing out at the city below. The lights of New York twinkled like stars, and for a rare moment, he was quiet.

“…It’s kind of nice up here,” he said after a beat.

Spider-Man sat down beside him, still keeping a cautious distance. “Yeah. It is.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the noise of the city far below fading into the background.

Finally, Wade broke the silence. “You ever feel like you’re just… too much? Like you’re this big, messy disaster that everyone tolerates but no one really wants around?”

Spider-Man glanced at him, surprised by the sudden vulnerability. “I think a lot of people feel like that sometimes., and trust me, you’re definitely a disaster. But… you don’t have to be.”

Wade turned to him, his tone light but his voice just a little too tight. “Wow, Spidey, you’re really laying on the compliments tonight. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” He said, sarcastically.

Spider-Man rolled his eyes. “Okay, and we’re back to that.” He blushed under his mask, a bit bashful. Everything was an innuendo to Wade somehow.

“Hey,” Wade said, nudging him with his elbow. “Thanks for this. The swing, the chat, the unsolicited life advice… it’s nice to know someone’s got my back, even if you are a dork in pajamas.”

Spider-Man smirked under his mask. “Anytime, Wade. Just… try not to end up sulking on a dumpster again, okay?”

“What a sweetie pie you are, Peter.”

“How the hell do you know my name? It’s not like yours is a secret… but I thought I was doing a good job at this secret identity thing…”

“I’m a mercenary, I know everything even if I don’t want to.”

Peter huffed. “That’s not an answer but… okay, Wade.”

Wade huffed and then tried to push his luck.

“I don’t suppose your kindness extends past swinging… like- a place to-“

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh come onnnnn! I thought you were all about being helpful.”

“Hey- I’m all for giving a little support but how do I know you won’t just break my stuff too?”

“One night?”

Peter bit his bottom lip under his mask in thought.

“Ugh, you’re such an ass. Give you an inch and it turns into a mile.”

Wade just stared at him, expecting.

“Fine! One night and then you’re back to whatever you have been doing.”

[luv-xoxo]

Top priority-vinnie hacker

Masterlist

758W

Today was a very off day for Vinnie and yn, everything started in the morning when they start arguing with each other over the fact that yn organized the closest and he could find his " Favorite " Shirt, then they somewhat cool off. Now Tabitha and Jett are stuck in a car with them arguing again.

"Let's go for pizza", "no yn we had pizza two days ago I want burgers", " No burgers have too much meat" , "pizza also have meat", " Yeah but in pizza you can take it off and it will still taste delicious! ", they went on and on for ages yelling at each other thank god Jett was driving otherwise they would have crashed for sure. Finally after about half an hour of arguing Jett had enough and pulled over " ENOUGH! ", suddenly everything stopped and he had their full attention "what's up your asses this morning? We are going to get both pizza and burgers happy now? " He yelled again which was do unusual for Jett even Tabitha got a bit scared even though she knew ge was mad at her I mean he wasnt mad at his other friends either he just couldn't take the yelling anymore. The car started again and it wasn't the only thing.... "Look at what you did now!! " Yn whisper yelled at Vinnie "what I did? You were the one that started it! ", " Oh I m the one that started it? You are the one that woke up in the wrong side of the bed! " , "you have your panties on twist all morning! How could I not be pissed? U are the one putting my stuff all over the place! ", " This again? Well sorry that I don't want to live in a mess! " . Jett pulled over once more... "Both of you out now! ", " WHAT" Both of them asked the same time "out! If you can't get along get out and walk to get your food I very had enough! Me and Tabitha want to have a nice Quiet lunch! And with you two it's impossible today! Like what the fuck "

Anyway they indeed got out of the car , they left them in a pretty public space which caused yn's anxiety to rise and it took her by surprise when Vinnie held his hand out for her to take she was almost certain that he wouldn't, "come on take my hand , deep breaths and calm down " He said in a sweet voice. She grabbed his hand with the biggest smile on her face "I thought you were mad at me" She smiled "well I m a bit upset not mad but even if I was mad I would still hold your hand", " Sooo you still love me? ", " Of course I love you and even if we fight you are still my top priority " That made me tear up a bit "don't cry baby" He said kissing my head and whipping the tears away. "Come on let's get some food"She start swinging their linked hands back and forth and then she brought her other hand around his arm completely hugging his hand. " I m sorry for messing around with your stuff " She said out of the blue " No baby you didn't nothing wrong I m sorry for yelling at you and starting arguments I was just pissed about my car I got this new part and it's not right! ", " Ohh baby I m sorry" , "its okay" He kissed her head.

Once they arrived they ordered and went to find Jett and Tabitha.

Once Tabitha saw them she immediately yelled "YES LUNCH ON YOU LUNCH ON YOU HAHAHAHA" to Jett "what? " He asked confused and then turned around to see Vinnie and yn walking hand in hand. "Pfff of fucking course all the other times that I bet that they would make up I lost I m talking about losing 10$ to Thomas, 10$ to Jack and 10$ to Mia and now that I bet that they would make up I lost AGAIN and have to pay for lunch! ", " Well Jett what did u learned today? " , "that you are annoying", " Nope, you learned to not ever bet ever , you have no luck buddy " Tabitha clapped his shoulder as the happy now couple sat down well Vinnie sat down yn sat on his lap. "What about bets? " Vinnie asked "we had a little bet going on everytime you argued for when I gonna make up and Jett lost 30$ AND is paying for my lunch" Explained Tabitha which had them all laughing hard.

[purityoflust]

The Smile [Jeff The Killer X Victim!Reader] [PART 2]

Jeff the killer X Victim!

WARNING: Yandere. That's it. Yandere.

I finally decided how I would write part 2 to The Smile, which is my first and most popular post on my account so far. Anyone new who has come to read this, check out my other posts as well if you'd like. I'll post more like this. I also have a Quotev account with more fanfictions.

9/12/20, 3/4 days after the top part: God, AFTER SO LONG, I FINALLY DID IT! Took me days! I'm so sorry if this is a bit lazy, it is a tiny bit rushed by the end but how would you guys feel about a detailed part 3? I'll probably go as far as a part 3 or part 4 for the final part.

The vibrations in your brain felt warm and numbing - almost like when you have a horrible migraine and you can finally feel it subsiding with your eyes closed and your fingers gently holding down onto your eyelids as if you're holding your eyes into place to prevent them from bursting out of your skull. Upon waking up you can feel cold air settling into your skin. You haven't been awake 3 minutes and you already know what you're resting on; an extremely uncomfortable metal table. You've only seen them in movies but this was real.

The sound of a singsong voice just slightly echoing through what seemed like a moderately empty room. You groaned softly as you turned your head to your right, very slowly opening your eyes. Your vision blurred in and out, which, you wanted to rub to clear it out but as you went to lift your wrists, you felt pressure around them.

Something was holding your arms down. This catches your attention, blinking multiple times while turning your head back up straight and attempting to sit up. You were hardly successful with that, struggling while grunting under your breath to pull your hands from under what seemed to be a thick rope. As you pulled harder, you sucked in your stomach out of habit before immediately coming to a halt and choking up in pain.

This whole time you were ignoring the voice that was singing eerily nearby, "You and me, always forever~"

The voice was of a male. Scratchy, shaky. Familiar.

Familiar.

You could feel a string of your heart pop out of place as your breath stopped. That's when you knew something was wrong, but it just doesn't add up. You gulp while your eyeballs vigorously glance around to see where the source was coming from, only to see a figure in a corner. It was doubled over and it was sitting down on a simple wooden chair. Doubling over a...table? An average male figure, nothing unique. Although, the clothing style was unusual. At least what was on the clothes. He wore a fluffy white hoodie and what seemed to be black pants and black-and-white converse. The problem wasn't the outfit, no. His hoodie was spotted and had patterns upon patterns of darkened and more fresh-looking blood splatter. He had long black hair down to his shoulders. And luckily, his back was facing you.

You were dumbfounded. How did you get here, why are you restrained, and why is there a blood covered man near you? Is that even blood? Maybe it's paint or a design? Some people do wear clothes that have different kinds of blood splatter designs on them. Hm. Or he's an actual murderer about to gut you like a fish.

You wanted to speak. You wanted to speak so badly but you just couldn't. As you parted your lips, your throat went dry while your gaze stayed locked onto the bloody male that sat before you. The singing made you shiver as you tried so hard to remember where you could have heard or seen him. Why can't you remember?

The male then turned around to look at you. His singing had come to a gentle halt. Your mouth closed as he did so, your throat going completely dry and your whole body feeling like an ice cube. You were greeted with cold blue eyes. They looked hungry and bloodthirsty, yet they held a warm affection as they looked into your traumatized eyes. It was almost comforting until you saw the rest of his face. His skin was snow white and his lips looked dry. That's when more attention is drawn to his lower jaw. He's smiling. Too big for a normal person.

That's when you realize. He has a large smile carved into his cheeks going from ear to ear while his own lips were curled within a smile as well. And that's when it hits you.

And it hits you hard.

The memories of hours prior start brutally crashing into you, flooding back into your numb brain. All of the realization replaced itself with agonizing anxiety, your heart starting to race at speeds that felt impossible. You could pass out, but something inside you kept you awake. Something about him and about this whole situation was making you dizzy. The male slowly stands and turns his body all the way to face you. He seemed deranged, yet, he had a very relaxed stance and body language.

Uncomfortable silence loomed in the air.

He kept staring at you before slowly taking steps forward. You watch him carefully as your head feels like it's spinning, which you could notice your vision blurring a little bit here and there. The silence is suddenly disturbed with the male speaking up again, choking up in giggles. "Oh my sweet Y/N, you're awake~" He cooed, now standing over you. He leaned himself down and reached his hand to your cheek, gently brushing your skin with his surprisingly soft thumb. He leaned his face closer to yours. The smell of booze, blood, & smoke overwhelmed your nostrils. Yet it didn't seem to bother you that much.

His touch almost kind of made you feel...at ease. Your heart slowed itself and your breathing went back to pace. You felt fine, somewhat, but something in your stomach was still sore. The more you stare at him, the more memories come flooding back. The more memories flooding back, the easier you fit the puzzles together.

"M-my...stomach..--" You stutter out painfully.

In response to this, the male turned his head over to your abdomen and gently rested his other hand onto your bandaged stomach, applying very gentle pressure on it as to not hurt you. It was still slightly painful, causing you to groan under your breath.

"Oh, this...I'm sorry, my sweet butterfly. I had to make sure you wouldn't get away, and you didn't! Don't worry, Jack patched you up, so you'll be just fine!"

You remember now. You remember it all. The chase, your friend, the salty kiss before what you thought was your demise.

You naturally wondered as well; who's Jack?

"Wh-.." You weakly force air out of your throat again to speak, "why am I..tied-?"

"Oh, so you wouldn't be able to get away. I knew you would run away, or struggles, so I had to make sure you wouldn't do that!"

He was right. You would run away and struggle to get out of whatever the hell kind of place you're in. Well, knowing what he looks like. He DID stab you, after all. Who knows what this sicko wants.

He lifts his hand from your stomach and turns back to you, gently placing both of his hands at each side of your face. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. So sweet and so innocent. I couldn't keep letting the others eat you up like candy. You're mine and only mine. I need to protect you."

"Wh-who- are you?" You weren't really all too scared for some strange reason now. You were pretty calm. Probably from all of the energy this is draining.

"His name is Jeff." A deep and gruff voice cuts in.

The both of you turn your heads to the door of the room where a tall figure in all black stood. He was about 6"4 wearing heavy boots, black jeans, and a black hoodie. His hair was a dark brown though while he wore a mask. The mask was a dark blue with black goo oozing from the eyesockets. He was pretty intimidating even just by standing idly like a character waiting to be loaded in.

"And I'm Jack." He continued, "I'm the one who took care of your wound."

Jack stepped closer, soon standing at the other side of the table. He stood at the left as Jeff stood at the right.

"He wouldn't stop insisting I help."

You just blink, unknowing of what to respond with. He pursed his lips under his dark mask, in his own thought for a moment while staring down at you. You seemed calm enough, and your still pretty fresh injury was gonna hold you back anyway.

"[P]-[Pronoun]'s gonna-!" He attempts to blurt out, only to be stopped by you.

"I won't."

You were untied at your wrists and ankles, allowing yourself to pull your legs up and rest your feet at the top of the table, propping your knees up. It made your stomach feel weird, but it felt kind of nose and felt like it was easing the pain. You wrapped your arms around your knees, looking around the room more. "What is this place?" You ask.

"It's a medical room."

"Huh.." You shrug it off. Your anxiety levels had died down and the more you actually think about it, this isn't the worst thing that's happened. Your life has been pretty fucked up and you have damaged relationships everywhere. Honestly, being around new people and being far away from others sounds not too bad right now. Not like anyone would care anyway.

The next few hours, you're introduced to everyone else at the Mansion. They've been so...unique and honestly, you're surprised some people and beings like them even exist. They were all equally surprised with how little fear you showed.

You actually got along with most of them.

The others have taken a liking to you and hope you hang around longer. Alone in the living room, you, Jeff, Jack, and others sit at the couches and chairs in the living room, chatting away and getting to know them as they get to know you.

You feel Jeff wrap his arms around you and place a gentle kiss on your forehead, making your heart skip a beat.

You found out Jeff has been stalking you for months at a time. Watching your every move, eliminating anyone in the way. Huh, no wonder so many people in your life kept disappearing. You...couldn't bring yourself to be upset or scared, let alone even sad. You felt kind of at ease.

And far from uncomfortable. Someone loved you. Maybe more than they should, but they love you.

You didn't even feel upset at the fact Jeff had murdered that friend earlier. I mean, you just met the guy, so he wasn't even a 'friend'? So you paid no mind to it.

If anything, you really liked the thrill of someone being obsessed with you. A serial killer being so infatuated with you. He could be so protective of you and get rid of anyone you asked him to! There's is an advantage here. You knew he could snap and probably kill you intentionally or unintentionally, but you didn't mind. You really had no one else, technically speaking. No one that really cared. Not as much as he did.

Maybe he isn't so bad.

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Leggiero (Chapter Three)

aIn collaboration with @bethanysnow

Small touches, looks, and wine-soaked daydreams lead to whispered conversations on balconies' edge. Put out cigarettes in the middle of the night. Let lips touch as palms do - eventually...

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word count | 7111

Tag list | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @dacey0eg @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bidet-and-legolas @ginny-lily

***

The bus rumbled underneath Damiano as he turned around in his bunk, the humming of the vehicle drowning out the clatter and chatter of his bandmates in the background. His head was pounding, but less because of the little alcohol he had consumed the night before and more because of the thoughts that had kept him up all night. This morning, he had made sure to be up before Y/n would come around for her wake up call, got ready and then all but crawled into the bunk on his bus for more sleep. They would play a gig in the evening, but for now he was thankful for the 6-hour drive to Oslo with nothing to do.

He could almost feel himself drifting off, body tired out and mind exhausted, but instead all that he saw when he closed his eyes were scenes from last night.

The room was filled with laughter. Music and Vic’s singing, as Damiano let himself fall onto the bed next to Y/n. She looked gorgeous, hair down, relaxing, a champagne flute in her hand and a slight smile on her face. Even though he knew she’d be worrying about what Thomas was doing to the room and how she was going to get them out of bed the next morning. But mostly she was just gorgeous and he told her so.

His hand reached out before the contemplation of this action had been finished in his brain. The adrenaline from the first show of the tour had him flying, soaring, and there was nothing that could possibly bring him down. Her eyes showed surprise but she didn’t pull away as he put a strand of her hand behind her ear. The gesture was small but Damiano felt like he was on fire, briefly stroking the soft skin under his fingers before pulling back.

He found himself babbling about his hair, but he was much more interested in what she had to say. He wished she would talk about herself more often - so much of his personality was so out there, so much information about himself was literally out there, in magazines and interviews and photos, but she had her walls up, even when they were joking, even when she seemed to be talking freely.

“You’re getting more interesting with every second I’m around you, you know?” The words slipped out of his mouth so easily. She went over it just as easily. Did she not care? Did she not find him interesting? He had hoped for some sort of reply or reaction, but she just continued talking. Maybe she wasn’t interested in him… His brain only allowed the thought for a minute. No, he told himself, she simply was this way. Cool, calm, collected. He was sure he would be able to get her out of her shell further one of these days. He wasn’t going to stop trying.

Next thing he knew, she had thrust her phone into his hand, some picture of her from years ago. He didn’t care much about the outfit or the makeup or the questionable hair, it was her smile that drew him in. There was something carefree about it, something unabashedly confident, something she seemed to have lost since then. There was no way back for him he realised in that moment - it might as well have been this woman or no other ever again.

Next thing he knew, he was complimenting her again, calling her darling, but this time he didn’t have to wait long for a reaction. The drink that had been in her mouth just a second ago was now spluttered on her clothes and some of the bedding. He was about to ask her if she was alright, but she had jumped up from the bed, hands trying to hide her reddening face, and dashed to the bathroom.

Fuck, what happened?

“Damiano! What did you do to the poor girl!” Vic shouted in amusement from across the room. He simply waved it off. He wasn’t actually sure what he had done and it bothered him more than he would like to admit - especially in front of his bandmates. Maybe he had come on too strong, tried too hard, had made it awkward. His plan had been to pay her compliments - not scare her away with them. He would have to reconsider his course of action.

When she came back, it was only to say a quick goodnight, waving and leaving. She only spared him a brief glance, no smile or any reassurance that they were fine.

It had not stopped going through his mind. This morning, she had pretended like nothing had happened, but he knew she had been avoiding his gaze and her smiles didn’t seem quite as genuine as they did before. Damiano let out a low groan into his pillow. This was a mess and a half.

The curtain of his bunk was drawn back harshly, revealing Ethan’s face.

“Why would you scare me like that!” Damiano complained. “I could be jacking off in here!”

“Well, I want to assume you wouldn’t do that in a semi-public space such as this,” Ethan replied with contemplation on his face.

“What do you want anyway?”

“Victoria sent me and told me to tell you, I quote,” Ethan cleared his throat. “‘Stop moping, Damiano, it’s no fun'. So, there you go.”

Without another word, Ethan turned back around, leaving the curtain open, and walked back into the kitchenette of the bus. Out of the corner of his eye, Damiano could see him stealing a bit of fruit from the fruit bowl. He felt no motivation to join them.

***

“He alright?” Y/n whispered to Thomas, who was sitting close to her, guitar on his lap. He just shrugged. Ethan rejoined the group with an unreadable expression on his face, sitting down next to Victoria. Y/n shot him another concerned look, but he simply shrugged as well. She shook her head and got up from her spot, walking over to the counter to make breakfast for everyone. Getting out the waffle maker. Putting the Moka pot on the stove and filling it with water. Too early in the morning for rock and roll. In the background, she could hear the band discussing rehearsals and the show in Oslo.

As soon as the smell of food hit the three bandmates, they were all over Y/n, hovering around the little kitchenette, pushing and shoving each other to be first. Y/n looked at all of them in turn. Thomas was currently standing on the couch, raising his hand to smack an unsuspecting Vic who was looking the other way. A single raised brow from Y/n got him back down onto the ground.

“Hey! I’m older, I go first!” Victoria pushed Thomas back.

“Maybe, but it still took your mum nine months to think of a good joke,” Thomas retorted.

Ethan turned around, chuckling at his friends’ banter - but Y/n’s reaction was far more blatant. She started to laugh, a loud, almost cackle that the band had never heard before. Her smile easily reached her eyes and she gave a little applause at Thomas’ joke. “I- I;” she gasped in between laughs, “I know it’s not that funny but it just got me, sorry!” Finally managing to bite her tongue, she went back to serving breakfast.

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n saw Damiano leaning so far out of his bunk to find out where the sounds and the laughter were coming from. The driver though couldn’t have known it was a bad moment to go over a pothole. With a loud thud, Damiano crashed out from his bunk and onto the hard floor. Chili, excited at the prospect of being able to reach him, ran over to lick his face.

“Eh! Chili, hi. Vic! Come get your dog!” He groaned, picking up the golden fluff and sending it back to her owner. She trotted away happily, over towards Victoria, who was a giggling mess after seeing her friend’s fall. He rolled his eyes at her grin.

“You gonna come join us, sleepy boy? I made coffee,” Y/n said, still trying to keep the peace between everyone. Pouring coffee into a mug, she walked over to Damiano and bent down, handing him the beverage. “I don’t really care if you want to spend the entire day on the floor, but I think your fans might tonight. So come join the party, hm?” Her voice was soft and enticing. Damiano’s eyes sparkled at her invitation. But still, his face was burning red. He sighed and nodded.

Y/n stepped back, taking the cup after he had taken a long sip, and reached her hand out to him. With a swift movement, Damiano was back up on his feet, immediately losing his balance and crashing into Y/n’s shoulder. More blushing on his part. He had not been expecting this amount of strength from her. Not caring about his little bump into her, she dusted him off, picking some fuzz out of his hair, her hand so close to his face, yet so far. She handed him the coffee once again and gave him a smile, before going back to her little corner on the bus as everyone devoured their breakfast.

Damiano watched as she tidied up after everyone had finished, constantly making sure what was effectively their home during tour would stay homely. She always looked like she belonged, and he admired her for that. After one last wipe down of the counter, she quickly addressed everyone on the bus, asking if she was needed for anything else right now, and after a round of head-shaking from everyone, she grabbed her laptop and retired to a quiet corner on the bus. It was only when she briefly looked up to find his eyes and gave a slight smile that he realised he was still watching her every move. Embarrassing, he scolded himself.

Damiano started fumbling for his bag, grabbing a notebook and a pen. He had too many thoughts running around in his head, too many images and ideas about Y/n, and he felt like the only way to get rid of them was to write. Maybe he’d even be able to make something out of it. Anything would be better than staring and dreaming about her anyway.

***

Two more hours until Oslo. With a heavy sigh, Y/n pushed the laptop away from her, neck cracking as she finally moved her bones a little. Suddenly, a pair of hands came down onto her shoulders. She only flinched for a moment before she realised it was Damiano, slowly starting to massage her tense flesh. Her head fell forward and she waved her hand to have him keep going. His fingertips digging into hours of uni work, work work, other work. Tension all living in her neck being slowly worked away by the singer.

"I'm not gonna turn down a free massage," she chuckled, feeling his talented fingers remove knot after knot. Then, suddenly, they became softer. She could hear Thomas in the background shouting something at Damiano. Taking his attention away from her, and all it left was soft fingertips on the sensitive skin on her neck. Dancing along and leaving goosebumps in their wake without him even knowing what he was doing to her. She shivered under such a light touch. A groan left her lips as she was falling deeper under his spell. At this point, she didn’t care. A very pretty man was smoothing his hands over her neck and shoulders and it was nothing short of lovely. Normally this wouldn’t be on Y/n's top list of things she would allow - but a 6-hour bus ride and sitting in one place for most of it was a killer.

I could fall asleep like this - fuck…

She was snapped back to reality when she realised that Damiano was once again staring at her screen, asking what she was working on, hands never moving from their position. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to concentrate like this.

“Oh, I’ve, um,” she awkwardly fumbled with the laptop, “I’ve been trying to memorise this sonnet. I’m doing a course on Shakespeare this semester and we’ve been told to pick our favourite by him and I think I finally decided on mine. It’s Sonnet 128 - um. One of the only sonnets to give you an actual scene in place. It’s from the perspective of this guy watching a bard and just craving to be touched, used, kissed by this person. To have the same sort of attentive mastery be directed at him instead of the player’s instrument. Describing the person listening to this bard play… Wait, would you just like me to read it to you?” Y/n looked up at Damiano. He nodded as he slid into the seat beside her. She moved the laptop so she could see its screen still and began to speak.

***

Sitting next to her wasn’t as bad as Damiano thought. After working on her neck and shoulders, her perfume had rubbed off onto his skin. Light and warm, not super floral, but he didn’t peg Y/n to be a flower kind of woman anyway. Looking at her face now, he noticed things he hadn’t seen before. Faint freckles, little lines around her eyes, the pink tint on her lips. Her hair was done up again in a bun. He could see a couple of bobby pins trying to hide in her wild hair. Then she started to recite the piece and his chest was exploding. He felt as if he was watching winter melt away and spring come.

“How oft, when thou, my music, music play’st”

Oh, what he would do to be her muse, Damiano thought. Her voice, low and soft, was like music itself to him, never mind the way her eyes lit up at the words she repeated from the screen. A little light inside of her, one he hadn’t encountered before.

“Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds With thy sweet fingers, when thou gently sway’st”

Her fingers were just as sweet, his mind piped up as he tried to listen to her more closely. Some light polish on her nails that he hadn’t noticed before, but now that she was scrolling through the laptop, it was like he couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Quickly exploring images of them tangled in his hair, scratching down his back ever so slightly. Stop, he told in his own head in vain. Just stop and listen, for once. Yet the ideas of her he had hidden away kept demanding attention.

“The wiry concord that mine ear confounds,

Do I envy those jacks that nimble leap

To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,”

He tried so hard to concentrate. To listen, to take in the words she was reciting, to grasp their meaning and what they meant to her, but it was hard, getting harder. In an uncalculated move on his part, his arm swung around her shoulders, not pulling her closer, just letting her know he was there, right now, right here, with her. His hand resting on her upper arms, feeling the warmth underneath the fabric of her blouse.

“Whilst my poor lips, which should that harvest reap,

At the wood’s boldness by thee blushing stand!”

His eyes travelled up from her fingers, over her soft and curvy figure, her delicate neck, to her blushing face. She was blushing an awful lot with him and he had not yet figured out completely if this was a good sign or not. Either way, he thought she looked adorable, a natural pink on her cheeks. Slightly restless eye movements that didn’t match up to the words she was reading, a certain nervousness overtaking her. He wanted to make her blush like that for the rest of his life if he could. He silently wondered if she would blush that much if… if it was just the two of them, alone in some random hotel room, a whole world of exploration before them.

“To be so tickled, they would change their state

And situation with those dancing chips,

O’er whom thy fingers walk with gentle gait,

Making dead wood more blest than living lips.”

His eyes betrayed him, flicking down to her lips as soon as she said the word. Soft, a light tint on them, pronouncing every syllable in the most mindful way. He wondered if she would let him kiss her. What. His brain flickered between two emotions. Yes, yes, yes. He would give everything to feel her sweet mouth on his, getting her close, inhaling her scent, pouring his every thought into a kiss. No. What was he thinking? She was their assistant. Strong, gorgeous, fiercely independent, and surely not interested. Right? He couldn’t help wondering. Would she let him kiss her? Would she want him to? Had she thought about it, the way he was right now?

“Since saucy jacks so happy are in this,

Give them thy fingers, me thy lips to kiss.”

Their eyes met and Damiano hadn’t even noticed how much closer he had edged towards her. It would only take a little bit, one more breather, a tiny motion, to put his lips on her, to feel what she was feeling, and the way she looked at him had him craving, obsessing and he almost dared himself to do it, when a voice pulled him out of his thoughts, pulled him away from her.

“Y/N! I don’t understand how the waffle maker works!”

Damiano had never wanted to kill his bandmate more than at that moment. With a groan he turned around, seeing Thomas fumble with the appliances in their little kitchen area, a dumbstruck look on his face, and puppy dog eyes pleading Y/n for help. She only gave a low chuckle, before getting up and walking over to the guitarist, leaving Damiano with a head full of thoughts that all circled around her.

***

That was close, Jesus Christ! My face is so warm… how are his eyes that pretty? How have I never noticed that before? I wonder if he was thinking about the same thing as I was back there…

***

The crowd was roaring out by the main stage. Crew held their places waiting for the queue to go. The band stood off stage trying to sneak a peek at the audience. Hundreds more people than they were expecting. Y/n sat in a metal chair that was dubbed ‘her chair’ so she could watch the performance from behind the main curtain to cheer the band on without being seen. The lights in the main room were being lowered, the playlist that had been on in the background slowly being turned off, as the noise of the audience got impossibly louder. The band was getting nervous now, the good kind of nervous. Thomas jumping around to get his energy levels up before they would get the sign to get on stage. Y/n smiled at them in turn, returning a little wave Ethan was giving her. Just as they were given the go-ahead, and all of them started to jog on stage, Damiano took a little detour, sending her a smile that would set all the butterflies free in her stomach, before pressing a little kiss to her forehead. He was gone before she had a chance to react. Yet, she froze. Damiano looked back and it was the most perplexed, confused, and adorable expression he had ever seen on her.

It was an expression Damiano couldn’t get out of his head for the rest of the concert, even long after she had lost it - and he knew she had because he couldn’t keep himself from looking over at her every now and again. He was fascinated by the way she watched them.

And if she was watching? Well, then he was going to put on a show.

He pulled all the tricks he knew - well those that were fitted to the situation and venue. During one of their songs, he decided to pull his favourite one. With a low grunt, he ripped his shirt apart, throwing it across the stage, unable to wipe the smile off his face. Until he looked over to where his top had landed and his eyes fell onto Y/n, standing beside the stage, now with a performance-rich torn tank top on her face. Maybe his aim had been a little off. The look on her face as she removed the fabric made him laugh. At least she isn’t hiding now, he thought, before going back to the song.

During “You need me, I don’t need you”, one of the covers they had chosen for the night, he couldn’t fight the grin, knowing his favourite lyric of the night was coming up.

“Melody music maker, reading all the papers, they say I’m up and coming like I’m fucking in an elevator.”

Where Damiano would usually take the chance to suggestively hump the mic stand and focus on the audience, this time he did it while looking straight at Y/n. Her face clouded red, eyes looking at him with a flustered glare. He simply winked at her.

Similar things kept happening throughout the night, any song to do with sex or romance, any innuendo, it was all directed at her. To him, it was all about her all the time, and he made sure to let her know.

***

After one last encore, the band left the stage, the sound of the crowd chanting their names in the background. Once backstage, they all exchanged hugs, all pumped up from the adrenaline and the successful show. A massive gift basket sat in the corner, filled with beers, chocolates, some skincare products, and flowers, along with a note from the venue welcoming them to Oslo and thanking them for playing. Vic immediately grabbed Y/n.

“When we get back to the hotel - up for a girl’s night?” Wriggling her eyebrows at the assistant, she picked out some of the products from the red tulle in the basket.

“As if I could say no to you.”

***

“Okay, what’s first, face mask or red wine?” Victoria asked, holding up both items in her hands as she followed Y/n into the hotel room, Chili yapping at both of their feet, dying to get attention from anyone.

“I will pour the wine if you open the face mask stuff,” Y/n decided, picking up Chili for some snuggles, before putting the dog down on the bed and grabbing the wine glasses. “Don’t have a girls' night often, so this is nice.”

“I keep having them with the boys but it’s not really the same,” Vic laughed. “They never want me to pluck their eyebrows or anything! Oh, and please be careful with the wine around Chili, I drenched her once and it didn’t come out of her fur for ages.”

“You - you did what now? Wait, nope, I don’t wanna know. But to be honest, I would kill to get Ethan on my lap with some tweezers in my hand. Boy, does he need it. Not by much, sweet guy. Just, uh, you know?” Within a moment or two wine was being poured and handed to the blonde. “I didn’t know how much you would want but we can always add more,” Y/n stated, hopping onto the bed next to Vic.

“Oh, very sweet guy with unpredictable hair, really!” Vic said, grabbing the glass and downing more than half of it in one go already, before sitting down next to Y/n with the little pot she had opened and a little applicator for the cream. “That’s so fancy, I usually just slap it on my face with my fingers.”

“Same! Thinking we’re posh fucks, aren’t they?” Y/n grinned, looking at the tiny skincare items, another sip of wine. Chili curled up between the two women. “You looked like you had fun at the concert.”

“It’s so good to be back on the road and I feel like we’ve really found ourselves as a band now. We’ve only played two shows but it’s already my favourite tour. I’m convinced it’s because you’re here, too, by the way, you really fit in with us,” Victoria smiled at her, sipping from the glass, then putting it away on the nightstand and motioning for Y/n to do the same. “Come here, I’m gonna do your face.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say that. You guys have been absolutely killing it. You got here by your own accomplishments and will, that’s hard to do. I am far more surprised at how well I’ve been able to fit in with you all. I’m, uh, as you can see,” putting the glass away, she scooted to face Victoria, “not as… ‘rock and roll’ and I would have assumed you’d want your assistant to be. But glad I got stuck with you though.”

“Oh, shush,” Vic said, sternly, as she began applying the cream to Y/n’s face. “You fit in just fine. Firstly, I think we definitely need someone to keep us grounded a bit sometimes and secondly, I am absolutely convinced there’s a lot more rock and roll in you than you think - you just wait until you’ve been exposed to us for longer, you’ll see!”

“Well, I agree with the grounded part. You realise that today during breakfast Thomas was climbing on the sofa about to smack your head just to get further in line? That boy does not stop.” She relaxed into Vic’s touch, silently deciding that girls' nights needed to be a more regular thing. This was great. “Ethan said something similar - something about ‘head banging right along with everyone else’. You all have it out for me don’t you?!” She asked, putting on an overly dramatic, surprised look.

“No, he didn’t!” She exclaimed, astounded. “I’m gonna get him back for that tomorrow. Anyway, Ethan was right, you won’t be able to resist our bad influence forever, Y/n! So, have you been to gigs before taking this job, or is this still something new to you?”

“I have been to gigs before, but they were more music festivals, and I was never one for EDM or anything. The heat and lots of glittery, sweaty people drunk on warm beer? No, thank you. Or they would get a new assistant for a tour and the job would end. Not in a bad way, it's just how it is as an assistant. You do your job until they don’t need you anymore.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s the wine or you, but I don’t think I’ve talked this much about myself really since I started this job. Not this particular job, mind you, but the whole P.A. thing.” Y/n chuckled, pulling her hair back into a tighter ponytail to keep out of the way of the fancy skincare.

“Hm, now I just keep thinking of putting glitter on you and getting you in the middle of a good punk gig one of these days,” Vic giggled as she finished up Y/n’s facemask, motioning for her to return the favour. “Let’s make the most of this wine then, I’m going to pour you another glass and you tell me a bit more about yourself.”

Grabbing the little pot of face mask, Y/n gently held Vic’s face, slowly applying the cream. “I’m going to be an alcoholic by the end of the tour, aren’t I? Um, well, I had a boyfriend, he was a prick, we broke up. My best friend lives in London in our old flat. My favourite films are old Hollywood romances. ‘Singing in the rain’, stuff like that. I dunno really. I’m just Y/n. Though I was thinking we should find a way to line Damiano’s trousers so that if they - when they rip apart, you see the lining and not the man’s underwear. Not that I think he cares, actually.” She truly was unable to turn work off completely, even on a night off.

Victoria couldn’t contain the giggle, receiving a scolding look from Y/n, who almost put the cream in her hair by mistake. “Thinking about Damiano’s underwear a lot, huh? Can’t blame you, that man is as pretty as they come. You can be happy they’ve all not gotten to the point where they just hang out on the tour bus in just their boxer shorts, but believe me, that day will come sooner or later!”

“I have not!” She insisted as her face betrayed her, telling a completely different story. “That is unprofessional and objectifying. I hope it doesn’t happen at all. You saw my face before when you all decided to ‘put on a little show’ in the dressing room.” She took the glass from Vic to take a sip. “Anyway.” She started blending out the face mask with fingers, careful not to get it into Victoria’s hair. “Would there be anything you want to know? I am never good at talking about myself.”

Chili nuzzled into Victoria’s leg, getting more needy. “I don’t want to cross any boundaries here, but honestly - why do you work so hard? I’ve only known you for like three days but you never seem to relax, you’re always either busy working for us or working on your projects and when you have a minute to breathe you end up cleaning after us or just going above and beyond taking care of us. I’m not complaining,” she held her hands up, laughing. “It’s great, but it’s a lot, huh?”

“Um… I can’t lie. Not to you or the band. Lying isn’t good for you anyway. But.. I don’t know. Lots of stuff happened before I moved to Italy. Lots of not-so-good stuff. So, I had a lot of reserved pent-up energy, still do. So I had to find ways to put it into things. Now I put it into my work because it’s my new dream. I put it into the band because I care about you. I want to see this tour do well…” Y/n stopped for a moment, caught off guard by the question, looking back and forth between Victoria and her own reflection in the wine. “I want to prove to myself that I can achieve and be successful. I am also a giant workaholic, though, like it’s bad,” she giggled, as Chili now put a paw on Vic’s thigh, demanding attention.

“Well, if you gotta do that whole workaholic thing, I’m glad you’re doing it for us,” Vic smiled, placing a soft hand on Y/n’s arm. “Just make sure to make some time to let loose every now and again. I’m sure any of us would be happy to help you with that.” She turned on her phone to check the time. “I should probably get this mask off now, give me a second,” she explained before getting up and skipping to the bathroom sink.

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Y/n said, also taking note of the time. “Doesn’t Chili need to go out now? There’s no grass on the balcony or I’d let her do her business here.” She stood up, placing the wine glasses on a little counter, trying to force the cork back into the bottle. “Thank you for tonight though, we should make it a thing.”

“Yeah, I’ll take her out for her evening walk now.” Victoria came back, hair slightly damp from where she had washed her face too hastily. “But let’s definitely do this again, next to Ethan you’re like the most calming person on this tour to hang out with.” She moved to give her a hug, only to realise Y/n still had the mask on, so instead, she opted for an awkward shoulder rub and a giggle. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You do realise it is my job to follow you around and see you tomorrow? Like, that is what I am paid to do. But hell, I’d still do it if it wasn’t my job,” she smiled, nudging Vic’s shoulder. “Now go get Chili out and then get some sleep yeah? Important things like sleep, food, water, everything you people seem to keep forgetting about!”

“Well, that’s what we have you for now, don’t we?” Victoria laughed, picking up a whining Chili and already halfway out the door. “But you get some sleep too! No working through the night, I am ordering you to bed - as your boss!”

“Of course!” Y/n laughed, shutting the door behind the bassist. After taking off her mask, she put the rest of Vic’s leftover wine into her glass and went out onto the balcony with her laptop. Pulling out all the bobby pins and the hair tie, she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing out the knots and letting it hang loose. The light from the sunset had long been gone by the time they had gotten to the hotel. Only street lights and the blue screen were illuminating the space of the balcony. The outdoor space was large enough for a table and chairs. The street down below was faintly noisy as people and cars passed by, but not enough to disturb her peace and quiet.

***

So much for an early night, Damiano thought, staring at the screen of his phone, as Ethan slept soundly in the next bed. With a sigh, he kicked the blanket off his legs, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the nightstand, and sneaking out onto the balcony without waking his bandmate. Maybe a smoke would help. His eyes drifted from the rather unspectacular view out front to where he noticed movement to his right, only to see Y/n on her own balcony, right next to his.

Y/n was relaxing in her chair, glass of wine in her hands, mouthing the words to something on the computer in front of her. Entirely focused on whatever she was working on, she didn’t notice Damiano’s door opening and closing. She took a drink of her wine, leaving a dark red stain on her lips, then stood up to face the street. Laptop on her arm and looking outward, she mumbled the words on the screen to herself. He just about managed to make out what she was saying.

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with brief- Wait, no. Grief. Okay.” She cleared her throat. “Who is already sick and pale with grief. Stupid tiny font is gonna be de death of me,” she mumbled, trying to zoom into the text.

Damiano watched her, a chuckle on his lips, both amused and amazed at seeing her play out the scene on her own. With a quick flick of his lighter, he turned to his cigarette, taking a drag, wide awake. The low light of the moon was illuminating her figure and her hazy movements and for a while he allowed himself to simply be fascinated by her. By the way she moved. Performing fully committed to the open air. Then she made a particularly dramatic, sweeping gesture in her monologue and he knew he couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“Hey there, Juliet.”

The surprise went through her like an electric shock, she was stumbling over nothing, almost dropping the laptop from her arms, as she turned around towards him so fast, he was sure her hair was going to give her whiplash.

“Ah fuck - Damiano?!” She gasped delicately into the night. “You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days!”

Hopefully, for very different reasons, he thought to himself.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly replied. “What are you doing? It’s almost 2 am.”

“You know I could very well ask you the same thing.” She looked at him accusingly. “If you didn’t have the day off tomorrow I’d be ordering you back to bed immediately.”

Damiano briefly considered a suggestive comment, but instead, let the cigarette between his lips keep him quiet. Y/n was putting her laptop away now, sinking back down into the lounge chair as he walked over to the edge of his own balcony, leaning over the railing to get a better look at her.

“You know I’ve not forgiven you for your antics at the concert tonight yet,” she suddenly stated, pulling him from his thoughts. The smirk flashed over his face naturally. He wondered if she was blushing again, but the little light the moon and her laptop screen gave off didn’t tell him anything. He was hoping she was.

“I promise I didn’t mean to hit your face with my top,” he laughed.

“But you obviously did mean everything else you did!” An accusing finger was pointed his way. “I did not appreciate that.”

For a second he flinched, wondering if he had gone too far, crossing a boundary. But then she looked back at him with a smile she was obviously trying to push away, unsuccessfully. Glass of wine in her hand, she sauntered over to him, while he put out his cigarette on the railing. She leant over her own railing, mirroring his movements. At a slow pace, like she knew he was watching, she sipped from her glass. His eyes falling to the way her neck was exposed as she threw her head back, tracing the soft skin with his glances until she set down the drink. There was a droplet of red wine on her lip and he wished their balconies were closer together, fantasising about reaching out and wiping it away, feeling just how soft she would be under his touch.

“Not that… I didn’t like it.” She paused. “Also not the first time I’ve been hit in the face with a shirt. So there’s that.” Y/n laughed.

“Now you’ve got me curious - who else would hit you with a shirt? Are you trying to tell me you’ve been to strip clubs?” Damiano laughed. Teasing her came easy to him.

“Dancers. With aim as terrible as yours, Mr. David. And I don’t know if you want the answer to the second question,” she smirked. When they were alone like this, she seemed more at ease. That, or it was the wine. He didn’t know.

“Dancers, huh? Think you could teach me a thing or two? Or, you know, were you just watching, lusting over sexy men?”

“Ah! I would do nothing of the sort. Most of the guys there weren’t into girls anyway. Wouldn’t do me much good… Damiano, I could teach a lot of things. You to dance? God help us all.” She made a dramatic cross across her body, laughter twinkling in her eyes.

“Now, Y/n, I’d let you teach me whatever you wanted,” he winked. “Preferably something… active, hm?” He could keep from laughing as he saw her unimpressed face, staring him down and shaking her head. He’d rile her up for the rest of his life if she gave him the chance.

“I once met this Italian guy, came to the studio. Thought he was God’s gift to dance. But you Italians all have that, bravado, confidence, whatever you wanna call it. Well, after learning the first intermediate step, he fell flat on his face and went back to beginner lessons. You gonna be like that?” Raising a brow at him, she leant further over the railing on her side.

Damiano puffed up his chest, comically, trying to make himself appear bigger in a useless attempt to impress her. “Now, you’ve obviously not met the right Italians yet, amore mio. Sounds to me like you need a real Italian to show you the way.”

Just like this morning, she burst out laughing, letting out cackles that filled the air with joy. “Sorry - not laughing at you. Just thought what you said was funny.” She looked down, and as dark as it was, he could see the same signs he had seen before. Shy expression, holding herself close to her body. The slight panic of not knowing what to say. “You’re real Italian, alright. You seem to always know what to say. Now is that an Italian thing or a Damiano thing?” She asked, sarcastically, to deflect the fact that her face was heating up.

Amore mio…that's what did it. He felt like he was unlocking a single puzzle piece at a time, slowly putting her together and making sense of her. He couldn’t wait to get the whole picture one of these days. “Maybe it’s a you thing,” he simply said. The night was making him strangely comfortable with being honest. “Maybe you just bring it out in me.”

“Eh - I’ve been told I bring out a lot of things, never a savant before.” She was still looking down, at her hands, starting to pick at her nail polish. Some little nervous tick that he hadn’t caught onto till now. “It’s late, you should go to sleep, Dami. I am sure that bed is missing its handsome owner right about now.” She started to look far away, picking up the wine glass and taking the last sip.

He had barely heard what she had said - too focused on her calling him Dami, for the very first time. It was like a little shudder running through him, knowing she was growing closer to him as the time passed. “Are you okay, though? I’m sure my bed will survive without me a little bit longer.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me, I worry enough as it is. Tomorrow is a day off, so I won’t be waking you up in the morning, bus call isn’t until later. Um, but I will be getting breakfast. Is there anything you would want?”

“As long as it involves coffee, I’m happy. I’m sure you’ll pick out the perfect thing anyway.” Damiano watched as she nodded, moving towards the balcony doors and away from him. He felt like grabbing her just to keep her there. He straightened up as well, just barely backing away from the railing. As she left he looked at the space she once occupied, feeling like he could almost make out the outline of her body where it once had been.

Amore mio...

[rattyoakenbitch]

❝𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠❞ ─ 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐦

after all this time, i start asking why i'm staying

were you ever mine?

are we something that's worth saving?

❥ content ; gn reader, eventual fluff, angst, happy ending

❥ warnings ; cursing, themes of cheating

❥ synopsis ; you're will's s/o. when he comes home from work, you can tell he's off. what you didn't expect was him to kick you out.

❥ a/n ; none!

"Will?"

You call out after hearing the front door to your house open and shut. When you don't get a response, you get up from your laying position on the couch and approach the front door.

There, Will stood. His back was turned to you as he hung up his coat, and although you could not see his face, you could immediately tell he was off. Even the energy around him felt dark and tense.

"Oh, hey, hun.." You said anxiously, trying not to set him off in any way.

Will didn't react to your voice. Instead, he backed away from the clothing rack and walked past you, not even bothering to spare you a look. This wasn't the first time Will acted out like this, especially considering he was exhausted all the time from the work Crawford gave him. But he would at least greet you soon as he walked through the door, not flat out treat you as if you didn't exist.

"Will," you sighed dejectedly, more to yourself than to your boyfriend. You quietly followed him upstairs to the master bedroom, where he began to strip off his work clothes, changing into something more comfortable. Still, he ignored your presence. You had to make another move.

You slowly approached him from behind, placing your hands on his shoulders. You were immediately taken back when he forcefully removed himself from your touch and walked away to another corner of the room.

"Will, I just-"

"What?" he scoffed mockingly, "You just want to help?"

"You're my boyfriend, Will, of course I want to!"

He laughed.

"It certainly doesn't help when you breathe down my neck every fucking minute."

Tears pricked in your eyes, Will's vicious tone scaring you. You searched Will's own eyes, trying to find any trace of remorse or regret. He had none. You didn't even know who you were looking at.

"What are you talking about, Will? When you want space, I give you space. When you want love, I give you love! What more do you want from me?"

"I want you to leave."

And then it was quiet for a moment. You both stood there silently, feet away from each other, eyes burning holes into the others.

"..What?" You stared in disbelief. "Wh- What are you saying right now, Will?"

"I want you to leave. I want you gone, Y/N. I don't need you anymore."

"No," you bit your quivering lips, hot tears spilling down your cheeks. Will averted his stare from your crying form, the floor suddenly becoming more interesting.

"No, you're lying. You're just saying that. You can fool everyone else, but you can't fool me."

"I'm sorry, Y/N." Lies. "It's best if you just leave."

You choked on a sob. "What?! Where is this coming from all of a sudden? We were okay just the other day!"

Will remained silent, still not daring to make eye contact with you.

"Is there someone else?"

"I- No, Y/N. I don't owe you an explanation."

"So this is it, then? You're just gonna kick me out?"

"Please, Y/N. Don't make this harder than it already is."

"This is hard for you?! You're not the one getting kicked out!"

Will sighed, somehow managing to remain calm while you screamed at him.

"I'm sorry." And the conversation ended there.

You began to pack your bags. You also phoned a friend, asking them if you could crash for a bit until you had a stable job and a home. You were not about to sleep on the sofa tonight.

You opened and slammed drawers, taking your anger out on furniture as you took your belongings with you. You also did it to spite Will, who attempted to get some sleep. But he did not complain. He continued to act as if you didn't exist.

It made you wonder. Where did it all go wrong? How long has he thought about leaving you? Was there another person?

Will wouldn't answer your questions. At this point, you didn't wanna know.

You were able to finish packing up within an hour. Will was still wide awake during that time, listening closely to the angry banging of furniture, quiet sniffles and shaky inhales as you tried the best you could to keep your composure.

You loaded all your bags into your car, getting ready to head to your friend's place. You went back inside to get a couple more things and look around the house a final time. You stopped by the front door as you were about to leave, your eyes landing on a picture on the windowsill of you and Will. Your already tired, red eyes welled with tears again. You opened up the frame, sliding the picture out and folding it into your pocket. Not like Will would want it in his house anyway.

And so you left.

You didn't say your goodbyes. You just left.

A week had gone by. Will carried on with his job as usual, attended his therapy sessions, but he never once mentioned you. Not a lot of people knew about you and Will's relationship, or what was once a relationship. Since his coworkers already knew so much, or what Will deemed to be enough information about him, he wanted to keep your relationship secret. Not that you minded.

The only person who knew of your relationship was Alana Bloom and Jack Crawford, but even when it ended, he didn't tell them anything. He didn't tell them how guilty he felt the night he kicked you out. He didn't tell them he still had nightmares about you being harmed. He didn't tell them how he was the one harming you in his nightmares. He didn't tell them how empty he felt when you blocked his number and social medias (ok sorry but like little headcanon here?? will has an instagram and it's just pictures of him fishing / or of his dogs fnsmdnskdjsk).

He never told them how he tried not to stay in his house as often, because it reminded him of you.

He was definitely acting strange at work. It was easy to tell. Even Bev pulled him aside to inquire about his health. But he continued to keep his mouth shut, until he couldn't.

Will rushed to the front door when he heard little taps on the metal screen. Secretly, he hoped it would be you. But when he opened it, there stood Alana Bloom. Will always thought Alana was beautiful. But how could anyone disagree?

Her long, dark waves that framed her perfect, slim face were never unchecked and unkempt. Makeup or none, preppy work uniforms or pajamas, she always seemed to look her best.

You even found yourself feeling small and insecure when Will invited her over for you to meet. But he assured you that she could never even compare to you. You believed it.

Alana's thin lips curled up into a soft smile. "Will. Can I come in?"

"Y-Yeah, sure." He let her in and she walked through the front door for the first time in forever.

"Jeez," she chuckled. "How long as it been?"

"Maybe too long," Will simply replied.

Alana walked around the house, scanning every detail while Will patiently trailed behind her. The dogs were playing outside, so it was just the two of them.

"Why did you decide to come over today?"

"I've been worried about you." She turned around to face Will, who stopped a few feet in front of her. "But now that I'm here in your house, I can see why you've been acting off."

"What's your diagnosis, Doctor?" Will joked, an attempt at lightening the tense air.

"Y/N. They left, haven't they?"

There it is.

Technically, Alana wasn't wrong. You did leave, but Will never clarified in what circumstance.

Will looked at the ground.

"Yeah.. Took all the photos too."

"Hey," Alana began, her finger resting under Will's chin, prompting him to look up at her. "You don't have to hide from me."

A week had gone by. A long, lonely, miserable week. You crashed at your friend's for two nights before your parents invited you to live with them while you worked on getting back on your feet. They didn't live too far, so you thanked your friend for their hospitality and moved in with your parents.

As you finished unpacking your stuff, you realized you were missing some things. You cursed at the realization you would probably have to pick up some stuff from Will's.

You still had the key, so you would have no problem getting in, unless he had the lock changed of course. You were only worried about running into him.

What the hell?

You got dressed. You didn't wear anything fancy, but in case you ran into Will, you felt obligated to look presentable and show him that you could still make it without him. You decided on doing a bit of makeup. Again, nothing fancy. Just enough to conceal the dark circles under your eyes and make your features pop.

And then you headed on the dreadful drive to Will's place.

When you got there, you were too nervous and too focused on making the trip quick to even notice Alana's car in his driveway.

However, what did catch your attention, were the many dogs Will owned. They ran up to you as soon as they recognized you. They panted as they jumped and wagged their tails, expressing their happiness the most they could. You tried your best to pet them all, your mouth lifting up into a smile. You didn't realize it but you really missed the dogs.

You dug around for the key in your pocket and pulled it out, quietly unlocking the front door and letting yourself in.

"You don't have the hide from me.."

Your eyebrows furrowed together at the sound of a female voice.

When you walked into the living room, you were horrified to see Will with another woman. Alana.

Their lips were locked, engaging in a passionate kiss, not even noticing your presence. You felt sick as you put the pieces together.

"Now I know why you kicked me out," you whispered, half to yourself and half to Will, who almost about pushed Alana off him at the sound of your voice.

Both their cheeks heated up in embarrassment when their eyes fell on you.

"Y/N! I'm so sorry, I thought-"

"Look, I only came to pick up some stuff. Then I'll be out of your way." You didn't once look away from Will, deciding to totally disregard Alana's presence and apologetic mutters.

With that, you rushed out of the living room and into your bedroom, searching under the bed and in the closet for your missing items.

You heard faint talking from the living room but tuned out most of it, deciding it wasn't worth your time or even your business in the first place. Then you heard the front door shut and a car start from outside.

Before you could process what might've happened, you heard Will's footsteps stop outside the bedroom.

"Y/N, we should talk."

"No, we shouldn't."

"You blocked my number."

"What good would it do if I kept it?"

"Please, hear me out."

Disgruntled, you turned to face Will, sending a cold glare his way.

"Look, unless you found a way to make a time machine and give me back the time I wasted on you, I don't want to speak with you."

"Why won't you just listen to me?!" he snapped.

You scoffed, "Well surprise, douchebag, I have feelings and you hurt them!"

"Well, I'm sorry, alright?" he calmed down now.

"Are you? Really?" You shook your head. "A sorry won't fix this, Will. Not after what you did. Gods- I can't even look at you right now."

You laughed. "You know what fucking sucks? After all you did, after the cheating and the lies, I'm still in love with you."

Will teared up. "I was never with Alana, Y/N. It's always been you."

"Then, why, Will? Why did you throw me out so coldly like that?"

"I began to have dreams, Y/N. Nightmares," Will admitted, his voice beginning to break. "Nightmares about people hurting you. Criminals. It was too real. As much as I loved- As much as I love you, I never wanted you to choose me. I don't want people using you as a weapon against me. To hurt me."

You slowly walked towards Will, stopping a foot away from him. You looked up into his glossy bambi eyes as he spoke.

"It was when the nightmares got worse, when I was the one hurting you, that I realized you weren't safe with me."

You cried. "Oh, Will. I wish you had told me."

"I couldn't. I didn't want you to remember me that way."

You laughed. "Well, I ended up remembering you as the asshole who kicked me out, instead."

Will managed to give you a smile through his tears.

He brought his hand to your shoulder, and gently lead it up your neck to the side of your face, cupping it lightly and brushing his thumb across your cheek.

"I would never hurt you, Y/N."

"I know. I know, Will. You aren't a monster for having nightmares you can't control." You brought your own hand up and placed it against Will's, leaning into his warm touch. "I'm still here. I'm alive. In your hands. And I feel safe with you."

Almost hesitantly, Will leaned in, connecting his lips to yours. His body felt tense, but when you kissed him back, you felt his worries disappear into the air.

He pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

"Stay with me tonight?"

[hit-me-with-a-ladle]

Ch. 8 Creepypastas x Fem! reader

Sorry I've been gone for so long. My grandfather died a month ago and I wasn't in the right mindset to write. But I'm back and ill do my best. Thank you all for your patients. Anyway, enjoy<3

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

As the week progressed, the girl found that it was the slightest bit easier to read through Masky's facade. Though that did not mean that she could thoroughly read him quite yet, she made it a challenge that eventually she would. Masky himself became lenient at first as to mind her injuries. But the moment she started to heal, it was all back to the ruthless nature of his work. Finally, when the week ended, she got informed that someone else was going to teach her. That person turned out to be Ben, the blond-headed boy that seemed too eager to meet her.

An early sensation lurked in the air the moment she woke up, groggily walking to the bathroom and taking a well-deserved shower. The feeling of all of the previous days' dirt and grime washing off her punctured flesh was refreshing. Her mind was finally clear, able to freely think and dwell on her current predicament without any outside interference. The hot water trickled down her naked body, soothing her as she thought of any way she could escape. But no matter how hard she thought, deep down she knew that the only way she could truly leave was to stay a little longer to devise a plausible plan.

Sadness overtook her body, hot tears streaming down her already wet face intertwining with the water droplets from the showerhead. She'd been able to withhold her tears for a while now, not wanting to give those bastards the satisfaction. But as her current position set in her mind once more, she couldn't hold it in. It was like a never-ending loop. After being rudely introduced and forced to spend a week being trained to the bone by two different killers, she had to repeat the process with another. It felt like her own personal hell.

Feeling the scalding hot water turn cold was an indicator that it was time to get ready. Not giving a damn if she was late. Stepping out of the shower with a huff, she looked at herself in the full-body mirror. Steam covered its surface from head to toe. Though, no matter how blurry, the rough outline of all the large scars, cuts and a few red bruises that littered her body were still very much visible. The feeling and texture of her once somewhat clear skin was now a distant memory in her mind. Slowly tracing all of the scars with the tip of the rugged fingers she winced when she made contact with a few of the most recent injuries.

Getting dressed in the same greyish jump-suit she has been washing and wearing for the last few days, she went to eat breakfast. But before leaving her bedroom she looked at the nightstand, there laid the old pocket watch he gave her. For some reason, he didn't want to take it when she offered it back. Shrugging her shoulders she put it in her right pocket and headed downstairs. Reaching the kitchen, noticing that Masky must have left early. Not paying any mind to his disappearance she carried on with her day. Eating the meal she prepared for herself. Sitting there on the dining table, in total silence, patiently staring at the clock. Ben still hadn't arrived. He was already ten minutes late, to begin with, which was a significant tonal shift from Masky, who was extremely punctual and despised tardiness. After what felt like hours, a loud crash was heard that made the girl's ears perk up as she ran to the living room. Their laying spread eagle, on the front of the old television, was none other than Ben.

" What happened, how did you get in here?" The girl quickly said while helping him up. " Dammit, forgot how small the damn television was." He said under his breath, ignoring her previous question. Getting on his feet he brushed himself off giving the girl a better look. Unlike the other two men, he was significantly shorter, 162 to 165 cm or 5'4-5'5 feet tall. Medium length golden hair under a long green hat and sharp pointy elf-like ears. His pale white skin looked ceramic, almost like a doll's and thin lips with a button nose. He seemed considerably young, but she assumed that he most likely was about eighteen years of age. Though, what caught her attention were his round black eyes that had a speck of red in them that acted as pupils. He was dressed as an elf, with his bright green tunic, forest green pants and leather belt neatly tied around his waist that held a small satchel type bag.

Looking in her direction he flashed her a creepy smile that showed off his white teeth. The girl didn't know how to react to his sudden action, as she felt discomfort all around her body, shifting her weight awkwardly she chose to ask him again. " How the hell did you manage to get in here without me hearing you?" " Well, I did the same thing I'm gonna' be teaching you today. Sorcery or magic. Whatever word floats your boat." " Magic? As in witchcraft, like spells and potions?" " Yup. I mean I know Jack already told you this so I don't know why you're so shocked." He snickered, it sounded distorted. " Yeah, I remember but I didn't actually expect-not that I didn't think that it would be magic-it is just that this is all so strange, I can't believe it." " Believe it, cuz I'm gonna' be teaching ya some spells. Follow me now out the back door." He spoke loudly, shaking his hands in a flamboyant manner.

Walking swiftly to the kitchen towards the back door. The girl was visibly confused as she followed suit. Why did they have to go through the back door, it was all quite strange. Stepping out, she noticed the rather large, wooden table a few meters in front of them. Its surface is covered in all kinds of trinkets, herbs and plants. " What's all of this for?" She said, approaching the table. "I got Masky to set it up before he left, we're gonna be needing some of this stuff so I can show you the ropes and basically help you understand the basics of making potions. A skill you'd need for survival." He answered while picking up a bunch of the items off the table and stuffing them in the bag. " Oh, what do we have here?" He said excitedly under his breath " Is it Raskovnik? My god it is. I know what i'll be teaching you first now, don't I. '' He started with a laugh as he made his way towards the trees. " Where are we going now?" " To the brewery. Do you really think you will be making risky positions in front of the cabin? You humans are actually the dumbest creatures."

The girl's face scrunched up in annoyance but still kept her mouth shut. She knew better than to try and argue with these people. Biting down on her tongue she got drawn in by the scenery like most times she was out in the forest. Autom was soon approaching so the wind had started to pick up the past few days, it made the multicoloured leaves on the trees dance as it passed. It calmed her as it passed through her body. Taking in a large breath she smiled and carried on behind Ben. Dogging trees and branches as there was no pathway in this part of the forest.

" Did you get the plant?" Ben spoke up after a while, cutting the calm silence. " Sorry, what?" " Were you the one that got the Raskovnik?" He repeated the question louder. " Oh, well yeah. I got it a while back as a part of my training with Masky." She replied quickly walking to his side. " Figures. Maskys is the type to make others do his dirty work." He muttered bitterly. But the girl was still able to hear it. " So you have a bad relationship with him?" " You could say that. Most of us do. The scumbag." The air started to tense. " I guess you could call him that. But he's not always that bad, he has his moments I guess." " Not that bad? Tell me, how did you manage to get that big ass gash on your neck." He harshly replied, pointing his leather-gloved hand to her neck. She quickly covered it and looked to the side. Not responding. " As I said, he's an absolute scumbag." " Well if it isn't stepping over a boundary, mind telling me why he's so bad." " Well, to begin with, he's a sadistic prick that only cares for himself. He broke into my house and stole some of the VERY rear herbs that took me YEARS to collect. And worst of all, he's the dog of The Operator." His face darkened when he mentioned The Operator's name. " The Operator? Whos that?" The girl quickly asked, lowering her hand and looking at him with a confused look on her face. " He's one of the most powerful beings to even exist. The embodiment of evil." " So like the devil?" " No, he's not the devil, the devil is a different being, but he's still terrifying." " Why do they call him The Operator then?" " Well, like. I don't really know how to explain this to you but, imagine this forest being a very large city. Y’know how every city has a mayor or someone in charge that leads it. Well, that's what The Operator really is. The Operator isn't his real name but a nickname given to him."

With that they finally stepped into a small grass filled clearing where in the middle, was a very small cottage covered in vines, plants and flowers. The old wood that it was made of was held up the multitude of plants, securing it firmly. The half-rounded door was nicely placed in the front, a yellow brick pathway leading to it, with a square window to the side. They quickly approached the door, the girl's breath taken by the beauty. The inside itself was small, shelves were on every side of the walks, each holding a plethora of books, trinkets, herbs and plants. It was relatively messy but still easy to walk in. A cauldron was in the middle of the room with a desk stacked with papers, pens, and scrolls.

Placing the Rascovnik and emptying his bag on the desk, Ben looked at the girl. " So let's begin I guess." He said walking to the medium-sized cauldron. " What are we going to do exactly?" She quickly asked as her eyes followed him, as he walked around the cottage collecting different ingredients and placing them on the desk. " Well, you're not going to be doing anything, just taking notes." Tossing a notepad at her. " While I prepare something and explain the different things you'll need to know." " Yeah that's great but am I going to be quizzed the same way Masky quizzed me because I need to know what I should expect." She said frantically, firmly grasping the notepad to her chest. " Nah, you're not. I don't do quizzes or tests, I like doing things spontaneously y'know. And plus taking notes will help you understand things more, so just write down herb and spell names, important details and whatever else will help ya remember. K?" " Ok, I guess." Anxiety began to dwell in her mind, as she looked around. " Readdy?" He said walking in front of the cauldron, giving her a slightly crooked reassuring smile.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day five of Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt was monsters!

Little brat’s been in the school ten minutes after the bell.

After they both broke curfew, Max staying out late trick-or-treating and going to one of her little friends’ house to trade candy, and Billy crashing at the lingering party until he was sober enough to come home and not get his ass kicked, they were supposed to be straight home today. Used up all their free time for the week apparently.

Max knew that this morning, he already told her to forget about the damn AV club. If he had to cancel on whatever chick he was going to take out (was it Carol? No, Carol is Tommy’s girl. Fuck he doesn’t know anybody yet) Max had to give her shit up to.

He gets bored of waiting for the little twerp and tosses his cigarette to the ground, marching in there his damn self.

Only time he’s ever been in this building was to pick Max up from AV. His dad made him come all the way inside and give his assessment on the teacher. Asked (slapped him and demanded it) that he do so to check on Max. Just to be sure. Like he cares.

But it works out anyways that he knows the way now that Max has decided to disappear and it’s up to him to track her down. Only problem is he gets there, and the room is empty. Not even just that Max isn’t in there, there’s no damn kids or teacher or nothing. Just a knocked over lamp and some shit on the floor.

He ain’t trying to hunt her down, but he has to get her back home in like, the next half-hour, and she’s somewhere she ain’t supposed to be. The school isn’t very big, half the damn building is closed off for the school board to use, so there isn’t much ground to cover.

He’s not trying to get himself arrested either, so he makes quick work of the school, checking all the places Max might be. Still, he comes up empty, and he’s about to just give up and let whoever she was with keep her when he sees something scurrying across the floor out of the corner of his eye.

It’s not really any of his business whether or not the middle school is infested, but it catches his eye for the wrong reasons.

It’s a gnarly little thing, a cross between a frog and rat or some shit, but Billy’d recognize that thing anywhere. It’s a fucking monster, crawling around the halls of his sisters school.

Purely on instinct, he tracks the thing to where it cornered itself, taking advantage of the fact that it’s still small and growing into its demon teeth to stomp on the gross monster. He stops once he’s positive it’s dead and not just faking him out like they do sometimes, he’s not gross or something, but he nearly jumps out of his skin when behind him, Max shouts, “Billy!”

He turns, ignoring the pile of goop that was one of those things to face his, apparently, from the flush on her cheeks and the bitterness in her tone, “Jesus, shitbird. What is wrong with you?”

He’s hardly even got the question out before Max snaps at him, “Why would you kill it!”

“Do you even know what that thing is?” Billy raises eyebrows, no patience for Max telling him what to do, but she counters with something that surprises him, “It was Dustins, he discovered it, you jerk!”

“Yeah, no. These things’ve been around longer’n any of us have been alive. And I don't care who found it first. They’re fucking monsters.”

“How do you even know what he was? You killed him.”

“It. Not him. Don’t humanize them.” Billy hisses, warning Max, “And anyways, I seen some shit kid. Don’t ask. And don’t play around with anymore of these little fuckers. Give ‘im a day or two ‘n he’ll be the size of a gray wolf. Another month or so and he’s seven feet tall.”

“But what is he?” Max demands stubbornly.

Billy answers simply, “Something you don’t want anything to do with.”

By now, the rest of Max’s friends have followed the sound of her yelling to their little showdown, and it’s Dustin, the owner of this thing, that chimes in, “But wait, does that mean you know?”

“Know what?” Max huffs, but she gets ignored, Billy firing back at Dustin, “Do you?”

All four of the kids nod at once. Billy sighs deeply, “Jesus, how the fuck did a bunch of little kids get caught up in this bullshit?”

“How did you?” These kids aren’t very original coming back at him with his own questions like this.

Again Max interjects, being left out of the questioning just making her more confused. “Excuse me, but what exactly are we talking about?”

But again nobody acknowledges her, Billy busy answering the boys’ questions.

“Had a friend came from that lab. You know about that part too?” He clarifies, getting three attentive nods, and this time one disapproving scowl, as he explains, “Well the monsters followed ‘im. Through their portals and his head and shit, they were out in California too. That’s how I know I was right to kill that thing.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence before Mike insists, “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t know, man. How else would he know about everything?” Lucas shrugs, exciting Dustin and promoting him to ask, “Do you think he knows about Eleven too?”

“I’m still here too you guys. What is going on?” Max interrupts, serving only as a reminder, Lucas turning the conversation back to Billy as he asks, “Why haven’t you told Max?”

Billy smugly tries their little deflecting shtick on them, “Could ask you the same. Why are you showing her the monsters if you ain’t gonna tell her jack about ‘em either? I was keeping her safe. You assholes were keeping her stupid.”

Max interjects, “Hey!”

“No, that’s not fair. We had to sign an NDA.” Dustin corrects, very matter of fact for a kid who doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Yeah, me too kid. It wasn’t any secret that number six escaped. I’ve had those assholes watchin’ over my shoulder for years and I didn’t even do anythin’.” Billy feels like he’s having a trauma competition with a bunch of middle schoolers, and he hates it. His tone is harsh as he demands, “Which brings us into, what the hell did you do to get caught up in all this?”

“None of your business.” Mike spits, but for the first time in the conversation, Will chimes in, “I got taken. By the demogorgon.”

“Okay. What’s that got to do with this, kid?”

“The demogorgon is what we called the big one. Before El killed it.” Lucas explains.

“Look, I don’t know who El is, but believe me when I tell you, you brats don’t know nothing. There ain’t just one of those, you know. Every last one of those annoying little fuckers like the one I just squished’ll turned into a ‘big one’.” They all look collectively defeated by that, maybe because he knows more than they do, or maybe just because they didn’t want to admit it was that bad.

But none look more ghastly than Will, who barely manages to inform them, “That’s bad. Last night, I heard them while we were trick-or-treating. They were everywhere.”

“Then we’re gonna have to do something.” Dustin declares determinedly, but Billy shuts it down right away, “No. Seriously, what the hell? All you sorry little punks are going right the fuck back home and pretending none of this never happened. If you don’t provoke ‘em, they’ll stop.”

“But they weren’t provoked when they took Will.” One of then argues, but Billys ignoring them now, turning back to a no less calm Max, “I don’t care. I ain’t doing this shit all over again. Come on, Maxine. Gotta leave your little friends to their baby ‘demogorgon’ and their world saving bullshit.”

Max scrunches her face up and argues, “Um, did you forget that I still have no idea what the hell is going on?!”

“Honestly, yeah.” Billy admits, “But s’better if you don’t ask questions. Now if you please, we gotta go.”

“No. You’re being a jerk.” Max crosses her arms and glares at him, a clear sign shes refusing to leave with him.

Billy just shrugs, “M’always a jerk. Thought you’d know that by now.”

“I do. And that’s exactly why I’m not listening to you. If my friends are going to do something, I want in on it.”

“Look what you little fuckers did.” Billy grumbles at the boys before trying to reason with his sister again, “Max. We only got fifteen minutes out of an almost half hour drive to get home. Come on.”

“This is so much bigger than that! I don’t care what your stupid dad says, I want to do something!” Her attitude gets on Billy’s nerves. That’s definitely deliberate if the spite gleaming in her cold eyes is any indication.

“You don’t even know what it is!”

“Then I deserve to find out!”

Billy sighs deeply, done doing this with a bunch of little kids in over their heads, “You know what, fine, but we’re stoppin’ at a payphone and you’re gonna be the one to tell my old man I’m takin’ you out for.. I don’t know, fucking ice cream or some shit. And if we get in trouble, I’m blaming you. Deal?”

Max smiles to herself at having gotten one over on him, “Deal. Where are we going though?”

“I dunno. Ask your nerds. S’their big fucking idea.” Billy grumbles, matching Max’s bitterness.

“We’ll have to call a meeting.”

“Will my basement work?”

“No offense, but I don’t think he’s getting past your mom.” Dustin nods towards Billy, the older boy rolling his eyes even though he’s not wrong, then offers, “My mom doesn’t like visitors. Maybe Will’s?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Byers will let anybody come over.”

“And she already knows what’s going on.”

They all nod again, and Billy rolls his eyes at them again while Lucas relays their decision to Max, “Alright, meet us at Will’s in an hour.”

“Why that long though? We’re all here right now.”

“Gives us time to cover our tracks, shitbird.” Billy hums in response to Max, stepping forward and asking, “What’s the damn address?”

This ‘meeting’ the twerps called was pretty much everyone in this hick town that knows the same dirty little secret as he does getting together in a tiny house and panicking. Billy and Max get fully interrogated like, a dozen times, once by the damned chief of police himself, all the while everyone is coming up with theories and plots and arguing. So much fucking arguing among this lot.

It gets to be too much pretty quickly, day five in this place and he’s already having to jump back into some of the worst things that ever happened to him. None of these people realize how big this is. Especially not the kids who just think it’s badass to fight monsters.

He leaves without telling anyone, or without anyone noticing among the chaos, to the back porch to light one up. There’re ashtrays all over the house he could use, but looming smoke in that cramped little kitchen wasn’t going to be any better than watching it curl upwards to the stars. So outside it was.

He leans against the wall, gaze fixing straight to what’s above him. He doesn’t notice the presence of another person until he hears them speak, startling slightly at the sound of a voice breaking the calm silence of a humid November night.

It’s Steve, sitting on a rusty and banged up glider at the opposite end on the porch, lit up just like he is. “So, uh. I guess you’re a part of this now?”

“I guess I am.”

Steve just nods and responds simply, effectively ending the conversation, “Right.”

But that’s not satisfying to Billy. He might appreciate peace more than what’s going on in that house, but he doesn’t like empty silence either. “What’re we all awkward like this for, Harrington? Spit out what you’re thinkin’.”

“I dunno, man.”

Billy frowns, prompting, “Come on. I know them gears are turnin’ over there. You've been quiet since we all got here.”

Steve looks away from him, but he does answer, “I dunno it’s just.. We’ve lost so much. People died because of this. People I knew. And I don’t like that anyone else is involved I guess.”

Billy scoffs, “Even me? You don’t even know me other than the asshole you met at the party last night.”

“So? What do you mean even you? I don’t want anyone anywhere near those fucking monsters. Could be my worst enemy and I’d still save them. I’d protect anyone from those things.” The haunted look behind his eyes, which seem so tired the longer Billy looks, tells Billy everything he needs to know.

He doesn’t mean to sound so soft when he asks, “What makes you so confident you can? Save ‘em I mean.”

“I fought a demogorgon myself. Well, not really by myself. Nancy and Jonathan were there. But I took a nail bat to its fucking face. Like hell I’d just let one of those things get anyone. Even you.” Steve

Billy flicks away his burnt out cigarette, sitting next to Steve on the old glider. “That’s real touching H, but I ain’t letting nobody sacrifice themselves for me. Need I remind you I’ve fought these assholes too.”

“But you told the kids you didn’t. Said it was all your friend.” Steve looks at him, sort of doubtful, but Billy blows off the remark, “No shit Sherlock. I ain’t airing all my business to any nosy brats like them.”

“I get that, but.. “ Hesitantly, he clarifies, “Is.. your friend, you know, even real?”

Billy must look at him like he grew a second head, “Shit, man, you think I’m one of those freaky experiments? No way. ‘Course he was real.”

“Oh. You said ‘was.’ Does that mean...” Steve’s voice trails off, sparing him hearing the words out loud.

“Don’t know. He got caught about two years back. Haven’t heard from him since. They might’a brought ‘im back here, they might’a killed him. I dunno.” Billy shrugs, picking at his nails while he talks so he doesn’t have to acknowledge Steve, or the fact that he’s even admitting this shit to him, “That’s why we’re here in Hawkins though. Susan’s got family over in Hope and a little ways up by Indie, so I suggested Hawkins. Just to come see where he came from. Get some closure I guess.”

“Guess he was really important to you then?” Steve smiles softly, but Billy only sighs through his nose, “You got no idea, Harrington.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll meet someone like him again.” He offers.

Somehow that sentiment immediately sets Billy on edge though, something about his tone implying that he knows, knows him and six were more than just friends, and Billy really doesn’t want to face that kind of monster tonight. He snaps, suddenly defensive, “What the hell’s that s’posed to mean?”

Steve’s face falls a little, evidently surprised by how upset Billy is, and he tries to fix it, “Oh I just thought that, the way you talked about him- and you look so sad when you do- that he was, you know, special to you.”

“So what? You gonna leave me to the monsters or some shit for that?” Billy growls, quickly warranting more defense from Steve, “What? No way. No I.. I get it, Billy. I do. More than you probably think I do.”

Billy half nods, his shoulders untensing as he slowly recognizes Steve’s genuinity. He mumbles eventually, working through what he needs to in his head to be comfortable talking openly with him again, “Didn’t expect to be getting relationship counseling too. That your assignment on the team, mister romance expert?”

“Shut up. You’ve never seen me swing a bat before.”

“Oh believe me, I cannot wait to.”

Steve’s smile returns, something Billy is personally glad for, though he might not be ready for that realization yet. He bumps their shoulders together, to hold Billy's attention and let him know he’s genuine, “Still, in all seriousness man, I hope you can find someone else like that for you. I know it’s not really easy pickings around here.”

This time, Billy’s tone is light, his features soft and vulnerable for the boy next to him, for the way he makes him feel less weighed down, less alone in this, “You got no idea, Harrington.”

[miss-nov]

Over-Emotional: Danny Phantom Oneshot.

Original idea by @amabsis on their post right here!!

[Originally written on a reblog of the prompt but it went all screwy and left an incomplete version so I made it it's own post and I've made a few grammar and spelling edits. Sorry for any confusion!!]

(This is the first thing I've ever written for the DP Phandom so I apologize if it's a little OOC)

⚠️(TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK AND GORE!!!!!)⚠️

  Danny drifted through the skies of Amity Park, following the streets which were slick with recent rain. The stars twinkled merrily above and the beams from the street lights seemed to buzz through the comforting, crisp air. Not a sound disrupted the mellow atmosphere and ghosts had appeared to leave tonight alone and retired to their lairs. A soothing night such as this would have been Danny's favorite; it would have been a much needed break from his overly stressful life.

  Yet Danny couldn't shake off the creeping apprehension even as he twisted in and out of alleyways back into the lit roads.

  His parents had been working tirelessly  on a project that they wouldn't tell him and Jazz about. Jack, their father, would always jump at the chance to describe what he was doing and couldn't keep his antics quiet for long. Maddie's, their mother, eyes would have brightened as she recounted the innovate idea she had conjured and the necessary calculations she could toy around with. These facts coupled with Jazz and Danny casually inquiring about their latest project would make them incredibly ecstatic.

  But whenever the two had asked about it, put off by the unusual quiet of the parents, had only been given an amused smile and an occasional wink.

  Tonight, before Danny's patrol and during dinner, Jazz had managed to weasel some information out of them. Though, it left more questions than answers.

  "So, you guys have been in the lab a lot recently," Jazz said conversationally. "Working on some new ghost stuff? It seems important if you're spending most of the day down there."

  Maddie had given her a deliberate look like someone who'd finally decided to take a second cookie.

  "It's our greatest invention yet," she said lowly and excitedly. "I think your dad and I have found the solution to our little ghost problem."

  The siblings gulped and tried to suppress their shudders.

  "It's not going to hurt them is it? Phantom and the other ghosts." Jazz's voice was even and didn't show a hint of a tone shift.

  "Surprisingly, no. No harm will be dealt to them. It's not like they can feel anyway. That's exactly the problem," Jack chimed excitedly before going back to his ectoplasm contaminated lasagna.

  "Besides, we wouldn't want to hurt the object of our daughter's affection.  We all know about your crush on Phantom," Maddie teased but then added with a small frown. "Though it's not healthy to have a crush on ghosts at all."

 Jazz gave an aggressive gagging noise and Danny was torn between hysterical laughter and a gag of his own. Dinner resumed as normal —well, as normal as you could get being a Fenton— and Danny took note of the fact his parents had refused to say anymore.

  Danny was busy going over and dissecting the conversation and lax in his attention to his surroundings by the inactivity that he didn't notice the two shadow-cloaked figures tailing him. The taller one with a broader build was holding an intimidating gun, that looked like it was straight out of an eighties sci-fi movie, on his back.

  Maybe I should head back, Danny thought to himself. I have so much homework due and a test tomorrow. A pop quiz in calculus and a lab in science. I have to meet Nathan at my study hall period and at lunch. Liz needs my help…

  On and on the list went as Danny subtlety started flying home. Just thinking of things that needed done was making him more anxious and tired.

  "Phantom, we'll have you now," Jack cried, his voice echoing in the hollow streets.

  Danny turned around, slightly aggravated when he was struck by a violet beam and plummeted, crashing to the sidewalk.

  "Jack! I told you to wait," Maddie chastised as they walked over to Danny who had barely sat up.

  His head swam and Maddie and Jack looked like the reflections of a carnival fun house mirror. Though his vision corrected itself quickly.

  "I think you might have given him a concussion. But that doesn't make sense, ghosts don't have brains," Maddie said, slightly confused. She reached out to gingerly place her fingertips on Danny's temple and he flinched.

  "Don't touch me!!" Danny had yelled louder then he meant to and his voice came out with an extra echo; like he had been about to use his ghostly wail. The three stilled before Danny began crawling backwards, keeping his eyes on Jack and Maddie at all times.

  "I don't wanna hurt you," Danny whimpered and tears sprang to eyes like a line of men ready to battle. Why the hell was he crying!? He didn't cry easy, at least not of late, and he'd been in these situations and worse without crying so why was he breaking down now??

  Maddie looked at him with wide eyes and her hand, which had still been suspended in shock, dropped to her belt and Danny panicked.

  "Don't hurt me!" Danny tried to pick himself up to fly, to get the hell out of dodge but when he went to stand his vision and black an —god why were his veins burning with adrenaline???

  Danny's chest was caving, that was the only explanation as his ribs seized and threatened to crush his lungs. His heart had left its place and sprinted from the back of his throat down to right beneath his collarbone before starting all over again. Has his hands always been this sweaty??? Tremors wracked through his limbs —he couldn't deal with this now!! He needed to finish his Hamlet essay, and review his history notes, and hadn't Liz asked him to buy popsicle sticks for their art project??? That's what he had forgotten!! He can't think of this now!! Maddie and Jack could easily catch him now —but oh, God was he screwed when —if— when he went to school the next day.

  "Phantom, you're having a panic attack," Maddie said calmly.

  "No, shit there, Sherlock." Danny bit his bottom lip to prevent another scathing comment from escaping. Usually he had better control of his mouth believe it or not. He put his head between his knees, closing his eyes and trying to focus on, well, nothing. He felt tears slip from his eyes and barely stopped himself from screaming.

  "You know what a panic attack is?" Jack titled his head as he scanned over his shaking form.

  "Jack did you put the settings up too high while we were following him?"

  "Of course not! I was very careful not to bounce anything out of place. You've Done the math, four times, it should be perfectly calibrated." Jack twisted the purple and silver metallic gun in his hands, giving it a thorough look over.

  "What the fuck are you two talking about!!" The scientists' head whipped back to see Danny's eyes glowing a tad brighter than before and his mouth transfixed into a snarl. Maddie slid a careful hand to her holster.

  "Our newest invention. Ghosts, well most of them, are just whispers of feelings that people once had. They can't actually feel and so they do bad things or... or they mimic human behaviors really well to make it seem like they do, like they're human." Maddie's voice trailed off at the end as if seeing if he would explode.

  Danny felt that normally he would have but he started to hyperventilate. How was he going to reverse it??? Was there even a way to do so or did they not include a reverse button by mistake (on purpose?) like they had mistakenly put the 'on' button inside the portal??

  "We're going to take you to the lab. Check your... concussion and to stabilize your mood. Run a few tests..."

Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodoh—

   They would strap him down and cut and lay his chest open like a butterfly steak and their hungry eyes would roam over him and their hands would devour him by pulling at his nerve endings and removing his organs and Danny would scream until his voice was hoarse and then some like a helpless lamb. Would he bleed blood or ectoplasm when they drained him? Would they take turns as he bleed out?? Or would they flow out together like some sort of demented, holiday dinner?? Or—

  "Phantom! You need to calm down." Maddie was at his side (when had she gotten there?) and was squeezing his hand. Danny briefly noted her eyes were filled with worry as her goggles hung at her neck. "Just breathe with me okay, please."

  "Breathe with her, buddy" Jack, who sat on the other side of Danny, whispered as he gently rubbed circles on the boy's lower back. "It's gonna be okay. We aren't going to hurt you."

  Danny wanted to say a smart aleck remark about them not having the same sentiment five minutes ago but instead focused on his breathing. He faced his head skyward and tried to count the stars. Nothing but him and the stars, no home— just the stars.

  Danny was reminded of the time he went stargazing with the rest of his family. A rare occasion as Maddie and Jack seemed to always be working. They had smiled so big at him as he pointed out constellations, awestruck. Jazz had nodded along as she listened attentively with a smile of her own. The night hadn't been more clear in months and more stars then usually were out. The picnic blanket they laid on was soft and him and Jazz had rested in between their parents and God they had been so happy then—

  Danny let out an involuntary sob. The melancholy seemed to come from the depths of his chest but at least it seemed to push out the panic.

  "Phantom," Maddie asked as she huddled closer to him. Phantom, not Danny. It hadn't really bothered him before; they didn't know it was him so why would they call him by his name?

  But it still made him cry harder. He wanted to tell them. He wanted to so, so bad.

  Jazz had urged him to tell them. But Danny had always been afraid. Scared that they wouldn't want him anymore.

  Now the sadness had overwhelmed the fear and the panic. He felt so isolated even when his parents were next to him, right there, trying to coax him into being calm. He had to tell them. He had to do it now because he wouldn't be this impulsive again.

  He felt the white rings gloss over him and heard Jack yell out "Phantom". When it was over he heard them gasp.

  "D-Danny," Maddie choked out.

   "I'm so sorry," Danny said through his tears. He chanted it over and over again as his parents reassured him that he had nothing to be sorry for and that they should apologize.

  The three sat there for quite some time, huddled close and crying together.

  Soon they would head home and take care of Danny's quickly healing concussion and reverse the effects of the gun. They would ask questions tomorrow after school but, for now, they tucked him into bed, something they hadn't done since he was eleven, and gave him their good night kisses on his temple before creeping to their room unaware of Jazz watching them from her bedroom door. She would text Sam and Tucker an explanation and ask them to give Danny the answers to the homework in the morning. She slipped into bed and fell asleep.

  The streets were barely slick with rain anymore. The stars twinkled merrily and the street lights buzzed. The crisp, cool air was calm and mellow. The night soothing and the Fentons were a family once again.

[turtle-steverogers]

Team Bonding

fr when was the last time i posted like,,, a fic on here. like a tumblr fic. damn. anyway. ummmmmmmm this is just your.... typical steve freaks out and the avengers are awesome um yah ok ok 

warnings: panic attack, vomiting (basically steve watches the titanic and doesnt have a very fun time)

word count: 2575

-

If Steve was being brutally honest with himself, he was fucking tired of hearing about “the classics”. Irrelevant people butting their noses into his business, tipping him off to what movies were, “the best of the best!” and “absolute must sees!” He appreciated what they were trying to do, but after a while, it felt like people were more or less just trying to garner a slice of his 21st century experience, and quite frankly, he liked doing things better by himself. It was much more appealing to park himself in front of his laptop, nothing but his own quietude to keep him company as he combed through different wikipedia rabbit holes and caught up on movies and TV shows that were apparently crucial to his very existence.

Most were subpar and honestly, he preferred the copious amounts of popcorn he treated himself to on these solo date nights, but some things surprised him. Like Indiana Jones. He liked Indiana Jones. He was neat, and Marion reminded him vaguely of Peggy. 

Still, he supposed he should have seen it coming when Clint came to collect him from his floor one evening, that sort of eager-puppy energy he carried around with him vaguely prickling the back of Steve’s neck.

“C’mon, man,” he was saying. Steve leaned against the door jamb, tired. He was going to concede, but Clint was rambling and Steve knew better than to interrupt him. “It’s, like, certifiably the best love story ever. You need to watch it--”

And there it was again. That fucking claim. You need to watch this! You haven’t seen that? 

No. He hadn’t. He’d been a little busy, you know, being dead.

“--And the acting is all so raw and it’s just-- Leo DiCaprio-- you know who that--”

“--Yes. I saw Blood Diamond--”

“--Oh, you did? Well, anyway, he rocks in this and--”

“Clint,” Steve cut him off smoothly. “I’ll come, don’t sweat it too hard.”

Clint looked positively elated. “You will?” he exclaimed. “Awesome, yeah, it’s gonna be the whole team. I mean, that’s good right? You’re cool with that? You gotta be, you’re the one who mentioned team bonding that one time--”

“Yes,” Steve cut in again. “I’m alright with that. Give me a minute to change, and I’ll be right down?” He was still in his gym clothes from two hours ago. He meant to take a shower, but he’d sort of… ran out of energy. The sweat had cooled by now anyway. He smelled fine.

“Oh! Yeah, no problem.”

Which was how Steve found himself in a pair of sweatpants and an old SHIELD t-shirt, squashed in between Natasha and Bruce on the communal couch. Someone had handed him a huge bowl of popcorn and Steve was pleasantly surprised to find that it was flavored with some sort of cheese powder.

“White cheddar,” Bruce said, holding up a little blue shaker bottle when he heard Steve’s appreciative hum. “They’re, uh, sort of like seasoning, but for popcorn specifically. They come in all different kinds of flavors.”

“Oh, neat,” Steve said, around another handful of popcorn. He liked Bruce. He seemed to get Steve in that quiet, brutally raw sort of way. A quiet kinship. They didn’t talk about it, but he never made him feel condescended, so Steve decided that was okay.

“I think I fixed it!” Tony said, stepping out from behind the ginormous movie screen where, presumably, he’d been fixing a volume problem. The screen had been frozen on the first frame of the movie for nearly ten minutes. “Okay, okay, let’s see…” he pressed play. Music poured through the speakers on either side of the TV, loud enough so that everyone cringed and Steve nearly dropped the popcorn bowl in his haste to cover his ears. He always managed to forget how damn loud the world could be when he let himself get comfortable.

“Sorry, sorry!” Tony hissed, turning the volume down to a much more tolerable level. “Okay, there. Okay, shh everyone. Gotta let Capsicle--”

“--Just Steve, Tony--”

“--Gotta let Just Steve get the full experience.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but settled in to watch.

The film was honestly better than Steve had been expecting, if not a little… itchy in that way period films tended to be for him. The themes of poverty and love were pretty well-rounded, but they hit just close enough that he almost cringed at the far-fetch’d beauty of it. 

Still, his fingers itched for a pencil as Jack guided a pencil over the worn sheaf of paper. The dim light, the faint scratch of the pencil, the forbidden love. It was familiar. Steve could almost smell the salty City air, afternoons spent under the dim lights of candles so they could see even with the curtains drawn-- a semblance of privacy amongst the compact vulnerability of his and Bucky’s shitty little tenement. 

Draw me like one of your french girls, Rose had said, and Steve’s eyes drifted towards the wall, Bucky’s voice echoing through his head.

“‘Course I want you to draw me. I ain’t denying my vanity, Stevie,” he teased, but his eyes were soft. “Pal, you could draw a stick of butter and I’d still wanna watch. It ain’t about me here.”

There was a soft touch to his arm and Steve blinked out of his reverie. Natasha was watching him, a neutral look on her face that Steve had finally learned to recognize as concern. He shook his head minutely, offering her a smile. She nodded and looked back at the TV.

The rest of the movie passed without much excitement. The acting was pretty good and Steve had even gotten to a point where he could recognize the filmmaking as something like revolutionary for the time it came out. He was quicker on the cultural uptake than people gave him credit for, but that was neither here nor there. He laughed with everyone else, let himself grow somber when the atmosphere lent that mood, and generally, it was a nice time. He hadn’t gone to any movie nights before this, but he thought maybe he’d start going to more.

And then the ship hit the iceberg.

Steve wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. Obviously, he knew of the Titanic-- he knew, historically, what happened to it. But for some reason, it hadn’t quite hit him while watching the movie that he was going to have to see the catastrophe go down.

There was a loud creaking of ice on metal as the collision occurred on screen and Steve felt himself go still-- body rigid and tense as the deafening noise played through the speakers. His heart slammed in his chest and he felt his palms start to sweat. He knew that sound-- he knew that--

--He blinked, shaking his head. Movie. Watch the movie. There was a panicked scramble on screen. Characters rushing to amend the situation, more metal creaking and groaning and breaking as dark, foamy water broke through the sides of the ship and Steve could taste it, he could taste the water flooding into the cabin, hitting him from the left as it took the plane down in a harsh--

--He twitched, shaking his head. He was being silly. There were moments of reconciliation as the scenes rapidly flashed between water flooding the ships cabins and peaceful moments of civility. A calm before the storm. A final dance before death.

I’m gonna need a raincheck on that dance…

There was a sudden crash as water blasted through into the work quarters and Steve jumped, watching transfixed as unforgiving torrents pushed workers over, flooding them, drowning them, and they were falling, slipping, sliding, panicking as certain death met them at the halfway point, and Steve knew it must be cold. So cold. Suffocating and unforgiving as it flooded their lungs, saltier than they probably imagined, heavy and awful and--

“Stark, turn the movie off.”

The room went abruptly silent. Steve realized his eyes were closed, chest heaving as he sat, hunched over his lap, hands fisted in his hair.

The popcorn wasn’t on his lap anymore. When had he moved? He couldn’t breathe and he was so cold and someone needed to save those guys, someone needed to--

“Steve,” a gentle voice cut into the roaring waves crashing in his head. Bruce. That was Bruce speaking. “Can you hear me, Steve?” 

Steve nodded, pulling his hair harder. He couldn’t breathe. Was he drowning again? Surely that was impossible. If Bruce was talking to him, he couldn’t be drowning again, but-- but the water-- and-- and the cold--

“Good, that’s good, Steve,” Bruce. Bruce again. It was Bruce. “Can I touch you?”

Touch. Touch. No touch. He was so cold. He wanted to stop being cold, but he was certain if someone touched him right now, he would lose his goddamn mind. More so than he already had.

“That’s alright,” Bruce sounded steady. Calm. So calm. Why couldn’t Steve calm down? “That’s okay. You think you can do something for me?”

Something… for Bruce? Could he? Could he do anything right then? If he couldn’t breathe, how could he do anything-- and he-- he felt sick--

He opened his mouth to answer and vomited between his feet, straight onto the carpet. Someone in the room hissed sympathetically. Steve wanted to crawl somewhere and die.

“Oh, Steve,” Bruce seemed to be talking mostly to himself, but Steve felt his shoulders climb higher towards his ears. “Okay, Steve, I need you to listen to my voice. Just listen. I’m going to count and you’re going to breathe in time with my instruction, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Steve shook his head, choking on a sob. His chest hurt. Like someone had taken all of his ribs and replaced them with weights, flooding his lungs with-- with water-- and fuck, now he was thinking about the plane again. He felt his breathing tick up higher.

“I want you to try,” Bruce said. “With me. In,” he sucked in a breath. “One… two… three… four…”

Steve tried to suck in a breath, but all he managed to do was send himself into a coughing fit. Bruce kept counting. Steve wanted to tell him to wait-- slow down-- shut up--

He braced a hand over his chest. 

Bruce was still counting.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually he found himself matching Bruce’s counts, eyes closed and the heels of his palms braced on his temples as he sucked in greedy, measured breaths. His heart was still slamming hard enough to make him tremble and he could smell his own sick wafting up from the ground, but at least he was breathing on his own.

Bruce trailed off. Silence hung thick in the air, the only noise Steve’s slow, shaking breaths. Shame burned around his ears. He didn’t dare look up.

Tony, predictably, was the one to break the silence. “I’m sorry, Steve,” he said, and Steve was surprised to hear honest regret in his voice. “I was the one who suggested we watch Titanic. I should have thought for more than two seconds about that…”

Steve shrugged. Embarrassment climbed from his stomach to his throat, threatening to choke him. 

Natasha spoke next. “Why don’t you go wash up?” It was an escape-- a way out-- and Steve took it graciously, keeping his head ducked down as he stood on shaking legs and rushed to the communal bathroom.

Inside, he locked the door and braced himself over the sink, splashing warm water on his face. He drank greedily from the tap. His reflection looked like shit-- he’d burst some blood vessels in his eyes, probably while vomiting, and his skin looked sallow and pale. He was trembling, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. He looked how he looked after a nightmare. This, he supposed, had kind of been like a nightmare. Though, he hadn’t been asleep.

Nightmares, he was finding, weren’t strictly exclusive to the nighttime. 

He supposed he’d always known that, though. 

He closed his eyes, bowing his head again. 

His emotions had been fucked to high hell since waking up from the ice. This hadn’t been the first of those awful… fits, and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last, but to have something like that happen in front of the team was a whole new level of mortifying. Fuck. He’d gotten sick. And he’d left it.

He felt the ceramic counter straining under his grip. Scowling, he let go.

He could slip off to his room, lock himself away until he could find some way to sneak out of the Tower and never talk to any of the others ever again. Even in this state, Steve knew that wasn’t viable in any sense. He sighed. Besides, he couldn’t just damn the others to clean up his mess. 

Stowing his pride, he dug some spare mouthwash out from behind the mirror and chugged some straight down, keeping a mouthful and swishing it around before spitting it in the sink. He still felt and looked like shit, but at least his breath would smell like wintergreen. 

The others were still gathered in the communal living room, watching what looked like a kid’s cartoon on TV. There was a distinct smell of cleaner in the air and Steve’s eyes landed on the ground where he’d gotten sick. It was clean. He let his eyes drop to the ground, ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” he said. The cartoon paused. He didn’t look at any of them. “I was going to clean up.”

“Nah, man, the only thing worse than freaking out is having to clean up after yourself while you still feel shitty,” Clint said, and Steve looked up. There was no pity in his gaze, only understanding. 

“Yeah, we’ve all been there,” Tony said. “Sucks, but hey, least we know now that Titanic is a no-no for you.”

Steve flushed, swallowing a few times. “Um, I guess,” he looked at Bruce. “Thank you.”

Bruce smiled. “No problem,” he said gently. “We’re watching Phineas and Ferb if you’d like to join us, but we understand if you’d like to go rest.”

“Phineas and Ferb?” Steve asked, guilt replaced with genuine confusion.

“Yeah,” Clint said, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “It’s my go-to when I have a bad day. Nothing like some good old platypus drama to cure life’s woes.”

Steve blinked. “I genuinely don’t know what to say to that.”

Clint barked out a laugh. “Join us, man! Don’t gotta talk if you’re not feeling it, but being alone after shit like that sucks.”

And Steve hadn’t had someone there for him after a breakdown-- not since the war. Not since Bucky. Every ounce of him wanted to run. Hide. Smooth out his face and slip on that mask of stoicism. But maybe… maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe he could let himself have this, if only this once.

“Sure,” he said, voice a little hoarse. He awkwardly sat back in between Natasha and Bruce.

Tony pressed play again and Steve smoothed his hands over his thighs, feeling out of place and a little cramped and--

Natasha settled, casually letting her feet rest on his lap. On his other side, Bruce leaned into his shoulder, a subtle, grounding pressure. Clint caught his eye and offered him some more popcorn.

Steve relaxed.

Yeah. He could let himself have this.

-

thanks for reading, chiefs

yeah this was chatted about in one of the awesome discord groups im in so thanks guyysss lol

[petite-ely]

Together

Pairing: JJ Maybanks x female reader

Warnings: mentions of social anxiety and other mental health issues, slight swearing and slight mention of underage drinking.

A/N: this story is mainly based upon my own experiences and struggles with anxiety and social anxiety. I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing mental illnesses. If you need help you can always talk to me or contact crisis hotlines. It gets better, I know it. (Also this is the first time I post on tumblr and I am a very anxious bby please send feedback, it would make me very happy, okay thank you.)

Summary: Reader has been suffering from social anxiety for a long time. One night, everything falls apart and she hopes nobody notices.

Word count: 1,700 ish

This represents y/n’s thought and this jj’s.

Picture found on Pinterest, all credits to rightful owner.

It was a typical Friday night in the outer banks, the pogues had organized yet another kegger and the party was roaring. Y/n was sitting on a hard lump of wood, enjoying the music and the dancing flames of the bonfire. You could even see a soft smile drawn onto her lips. She felt good.

That changed quickly. One minute she was fine and the next she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Emptiness. It was all she could feel. Like she was nothing but a large void. It felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of her lungs, leaving her breathless and frightened.

It happened more and more lately. Small moments of disorientation where she couldn’t feel anything at all. These episodes usually happened when she was alone and didn’t last very long, but this time it was different. It felt much worse.

You’re so disgusting, and pathetic.

Not wanting anyone to see her in this state, she left silently, ashamed of herself. It’s not as though anyone would miss her anyway. She wasn’t very popular. She had friends, of course, but not that many.

There was John B, a friendly guy who everybody knew because, well he was John B.

There was also Pope, who was kind and smart, but that everyone knew because of his father Heyward’s business.

Then there was Kie, a cute hippie girl with a passion for environmental issues. Born a kook, but a pogue at heart.

And finally there was JJ, one of the best surfer in the Outer Banks. He was well known for his charm, being a pothead and his tendencies of getting into fights with kooks.

The five of them hung out almost every day and yet if you showed a photo of the group to an islander, they probably wouldn’t be able to identify y/n.

She was invisible, unseen. She was that one girl who was always with the four pogues. The one who nobody chose for projects. The one teachers never picked on. The one who no one noticed. She was nothing.

As she was sitting on the damp sand, small waves crashing onto her bare feet, tears began to roll down her cheeks. She wanted to scream, tell the whole world how she felt, but no sound came out. She couldn’t speak. Only her breathing was heard. She couldn’t move either, and yet she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

-

“You better reuse that plastic cup Maybank, or I’ll make you eat it,” threatened Kie, after JJ placed his empty cup on the ground.

The boy rolled his eyes and threw the red cup at his friend. “Keep it safe for me, I’m going to find y/n.”

“She was sitting by the bonfire, like five minutes ago,” said John B.

“Well not anymore,” muttered the blond when his eyes landed on the empty seat.

JJ wandered around the boneyard, looking for his friend. A bad feeling started to grow in the pit of his stomach. So after looking around the boneyard for more than half an hour, the boy became more and more worried.

Biting off the nails of his hand, he scanned the crowd once more. Y/n and him had been friends since they were little and they knew each other better than anyone else. He knew that she would never leave a party without saying goodbye.

Where could she be, he wondered, taking his hat off to run his hand through it.

A sigh of relief left his lips as he saw the small silhouette of his friend, sitting on the beach, away from the party. As he got closer, he noticed the shiny streams on her cheeks he remembered how distant she had been recently.

How she smiled less frequently and how she didn’t talk as much. How she didn’t eat as much and how her leg was always bouncing under the table. How her fists we’re always closed tightly and how tired she looked. The dark circles under her eyes and the nothingness in her gaze. It was like she wasn’t there anymore.

JJ’s face twisted into a sad expression. He felt bad for not noticing it earlier, like it was his fault. It pained him to see her this way, in such a distressed state.

He sat next to her, making her flinch in surprise. “Hey,” he spoke softly, “are you okay?” She wiped her tears away and nodded her head.

“Y/n, please don’t lie.” His voice was small and full of empathy, like he felt the same way she did.

So pathetic, even when doing nothing you’re hurting your friends. How could anyone love you, she said to herself.

“I- uh I-“ she tried to speak but failed, choking on her words.

Panic filled the girl’s mind as she was suddenly aware of what was happening. Her heart tightened in her chest and pain shot up in her rib cage. Her hands were shaking even more and her legs felt numb.

JJ noticed how her eyes were filled with fear and how loud and uneven her breathing had become. She was having a panic attack. It had happened a few times before so he knew how to help her.

“Hey, hey hey,” he placed his arms around her and held her tightly. “You’re okay. I’m here with you, okay? Everything is going to be okay. Now I want you to listen to my voice and do exactly what I say, can you do that?” She nodded, JJ gave her a reassuring smile.

“Okay, good. Now every time you feel a wave crashing on your feet, I want you to take a deep breath and when you feel another one coming, you let it all out, “ she nodded once more.

They both looked down at the ocean and waited for a wave to come. “In,” the wave left the shore slowly and came back a few seconds later. “and out.”

“good, you’re doing good. In and out. That’s it.” JJ’s hand was now tracing small patterns on the back of the girl’s back, so softly she could barely feel it. “Now I want you to talk to me, can you do that for me?”

Her breathing had now slowed down to a regular rhythm and so had her tremors, but she had terror spread across her face.

“I want you-,” he paused wiping away with his free hand the tears off of her warm cheeks, “-to tell me three things that you can see right now.”

“I-“ she shook her head in denial, “no.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay you can do it y/nn.” His voice was warm and so reassuring. Just hearing it helped her calm down.

“I- uh I can, I can se see the ocean,” her voice was shaky and weak.

“Huh uh, keep breathing.”

“and um the uh the-the stars,” she stopped for a second to take a deep breath, her hand reaching out to his. The blond boy flinched at the contact, her skin was freezing cold.

“I-I can also see your eyes,” she finished, her voice sounding smoother and more confident.

JJ offered a warm smile, “good, now tell me two things you can hear.”

Y/n broke the eye contact and started a tte ocean, concentrating on what she could hear. “I hear music playing from the party and uh the waves crashing.”

She was no longer crying or shaking but JJ kept going. “ Name one thing you can feel.”

“Only one?” He shook his head in agreement.

“Your heart,” she stared into his eyes, “I can feel beating in my hand.”

“Good.”

JJ looked away silently. He wanted to ask her what had happened, but he didn’t. Instead he remained quiet and admired the star shining above his head.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked out. “It’s just that lately, it’s like I can’t feel anything at all-“ she wrapped her arms around her knees, “-it’s like the only thing I care about is what others will think about me.”

“Don’t wear that skirt, people will think you’re a slut. Don’t say anything or they’ll think you’re annoying. Did you see them, they’re laughing at you, shouldn’t have said anything. Did you really say that? Ugh you should have let somebody else talk, what a waste of time. He didn’t answer you? Well that’s because he hates you. There’s a party? Don’t go. Nobody likes you anyway, they’re just gonna judge you, they hate you.”

“Y/n, you know none of that is true, we do love you.”

“I know, but I can’t help it! I can’t stop it. And I’m so tired of feeling that way. I just want it to stop.” A single tear rolled down on the side of her face.

“Oh god, y/n.”

“I’m so dumb. I’m here talking to you about my little problems, but you’ve got problems much worse than mine. Jesus I’m so stupid.”

JJ looked at the girl next to him. She looked so small and vulnerable. He could see the pain in her expression and it hurt him so much. He wanted to hold and kiss her, but he was afraid of breaking her. She looked so fragile.

If only she knew how loved she is.

“No y/n, you’re not stupid or dumb. It’s not because I have a shitty life and a jack ass for a dad that your problems are not valid. You’re living something really intense and scary right now but I can assure you that I understand. We’ll get trough this together okay?”

They were both crying messes at this point, but neither of them cared anymore. The small girl opened her arms to boy beside her. Through her gesture a message was hidden, and JJ understood it perfectly. He held her tightly against his chest. Her tears were wetting his shoulder and his were falling onto the messe that was her hair. Her hands were grasping firmly that soft cotton of his sweatshirt, afraid he would let go.

“Don’t let go of me, please,” she implored. “I don’t want you to leave me, ever. I can’t do this without you J.”

“I won’t y/n, I won’t leave you, I promise.”

“We’ll get through it, we’ll get you help and we’ll survive this together, okay?” A sob left the blond’s mouth. “I promise, okay, I promise.”

[adhdeancas]

Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven

Special thanks to James @friedchickenangelwings for helping me out with this story. I can’t wait to write this. Read on AO3 here

Summary: Everything is the same up to the end of 15x20. Chuck has been “defeated,” but it was all a farce. When Jack absorbed Chuck, Chuck easily took over the 3 year old’s body and acted as if he were defeated. Chuck!Jack then had the Rusty Nail placed in the barn where Dean died, and with Cas gone, Dean didn’t fight it. Chuck did reimagine Heaven, but he’s fed the same lie to them all: that everything is perfect, they are free, they are in real paradise. Except it’s all an illusion insulated by blue skies and endless horizons. Because, just like the Good Place, people make Heaven into Hell for each other. And there’s nothing Chuck loves more than the natural order of tragedy. He “let it slip” to Bobby that he brought Cas back, when he really left him to rot in the Empty. Dean has to find his best friend before it’s too late, and he has to keep a happy face for everyone else, because Chuck is watching. Always watching.

Chapter One: Runnin’ on Empty

“Well, Cas helped.”

Dean’s heart flutters at that and he looks at Bobby. The damn old man raises his eyebrows; he knows he just buried the lead and he did it on purpose. A soft breath escapes him and he smiles. Maybe this is gonna be alright after all. Hell, maybe he can find that angel and…

“It’s a big new world out there. You’ll see.” 

Dean’s stomach twists at the idea. I don’t wanna see. His stupid brain insists. He takes a swig of the beer in his hand to try to quiet the voice. “Oh, wow.” He recoils a bit and looks at it. “This tastes like the first drink I ever shared with my dad.” He shares a wry smile with Bobby. Drinks with Dad weren’t exactly top-tier, and they both knew it.

“Quality stuff?” 

Dean’s smiling because he feels like he should be. “Nah, it’s crap.” He tries to shift that memory into a good thing, because his memory of his first beer is the crushing doubt and fear that swirled around his head. Finally, he’d done something right enough to earn a beer like a Man, but he still felt… broken. 

He feels the same now.

Maybe it’s because he’d really just wanted a hug.

But Bobby is waiting for him to say something. Dean focuses instead on the surface-level joy of that old mid-evening beer, the pride in his dad’s eyes, trying to drum up the feeling. “But it was fantastic.” 

“Just like this.”

“It’s almost perfect.” Dean manages. He wants Bobby to agree. He wants Bobby to say ‘Yeah, I know, something just ain’t right, can’t put my finger on it,’ but he doesn’t. He lets the silence drag on for a second longer before he fills it.

“He’ll be along.” Dean’s heart jumps, but then he realizes he’s talking about Sam. Not Cas. But he doesn’t want Sam up here anytime soon; he wants Sam to live a nice life with Eileen, like he promised. “Time up here, it’s different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?”

It kinda feels like when Jack was born and Cas was dead and Sam wanted to go to strip clubs and listen to Zeppelin and eat at the greasiest holes-in-the-wall. Like he had everything he was supposed to want laid right out in front of him, but… none of it made Dean feel anything. He looks around, searching for inspiration, and his eyes land on home. Things always look clearer when he's looking out at ‘em through Baby’s windshield. “I think I’ll go for a drive.” 

“Have fun.” 

He leaves the acrid beer with Bobby and climbs into his car. Maybe he’s insane, but she feels.. different. He is insane. He is in heaven. “Get it together, Dean.” he mutters to himself as he pulls away. Bobby mentioned that his parents are nearby but… Dean doesn't want to face that yet. Nothing to fix your existential crisis about Heaven like a neat talk with your disappointed parents. 

He keeps to the main road instead. He drives for an hour, maybe two, at least that’s what it feels like. From what Bobby said, time isn’t so straightforward here. That only scares him a little bit. Eventually, his brain seems to calm down enough to think clearly. He’d chosen this. He’d accepted this. And he’d meant what he’d said in that barn; he was okay with dying. Of course, he didn’t realize that meant… He didn’t realize that meant more. 

A little voice inside him whispers something evil. He’d just wanted to see Cas again. Even in memories. Like it was before…

He takes a deep breath. “I’m not gonna fuck it up. It’s heaven. I can’t fuck it up in heaven, right?” He laughs out loud to himself, but it’s cut off by Baby groaning underneath him. She starts to slow. “Baby? What the hell?”

She’s out of gas.

Dean grumbles as he pulls over. “Sonuvvabitch, what the-” He almost said what the hell. He’s in heaven. Nothing in hell. Heh. She rolls to a stop and he kills the engine, letting the new silence and stillness wash over him. He sighs. Heaven, huh?

He scrubs a hand across his back and looks over to his right, to an onion field. Yellow and pokey and-

Cas is standing in the middle of it. 

Dean just about has a heart attack. He scrambles out of the car, honks Baby’s horn in the process, is all the way around the car by the time he really sees him.

Cas looks terrible. He’s standing stock-still in the middle of the field, arms down at his sides, crumpled trench coat speckled with the black sludge that haunts Dean’s nightmares. His hair is matted, his face gaunt, eyes sunken in with bags dark as bruises. But what scares Dean the most is the look in his eyes. His eyelids droop and hang and he stares straight ahead, straight at Dean, without seeing him, without any light in them at all. 

It doesn’t look like Cas. 

“Cas?” Dean approaches slowly, hands held out like he would to a wild animal. Cas shows no sign of moving, just stands there. “Cas, look at me, man,” There’s pleading in his voice, but he doesn’t care. He needs Cas to be okay. 

Castiel is not okay. 

As Dean gets closer, he starts to hear screams and crashes. He twists around to look for the source, but it just seemed to come from… around Cas. He looks closer, and Cas’s hands move to fend something off he can’t see. He’s still just staring ahead, but, looking closer at Cas’s face, he sees something he hadn’t noticed before. 

Cas is talking. Well, muttering really. Dean can barely hear him through the pauses in far-off yells. “d-Dea-Dean. Dean- de-Dean.” Dean stomach drops off a cliff. “Dean, just think of… D-du-Dean.” 

“I’m here, Cas.” Fuck the rasp in his voice. Fuck the tears in his eyes. Cas can’t hear him. He can tell by the look in his eyes. “FUCK!” 

He rubs his eyes with his fists furiously. This is so frustrating, this is so-

There is no one there. No sound. Cas is gone. 

Dean strides ahead, but it’s no use. The field is empty, and he is alone. Again. 

It takes Dean a few minutes before he can get himself under control. Cas isn’t there; he has to assume he never had been, not really. So, unless Dean has finally gone off the deep end, it was… what, a vision? A- god, it felt familiar. It felt like - it felt like after purgatory. The same haunted face, the same unseeing eyes. Gone in a blink.

Why am I seeing you again, man? 

But, as sure as he is that there is grass on the ground, he knows Cas can’t hear him.

Dean sits up against his fender and sighs. On the one hand, he is sitting on warm clear asphalt, feeling the afternoon sun bake his face, and on the other, he is miserable and seeing his dead-alive-again best friend. Except if Cas was around, he would come see him. Right? I mean, Dean died. So young. And Cas just told him- 

And Dean is praying to him. And he’s not here. It’s not right. None of it is. That he is sure about. If this was heaven, he didn’t want it.

Dean gets up. Will he ever get some motherfucking peace? He gets in his car, tries the ignition. She starts up again and - miracle of miracles - has gas. He thanks her with a pat and they're off, riding into the eerily-perfect sunset, back the way they came.

Night’s fallen by the time he pulls into the dirt pathway. He parks on the lawn and shivers a little bit in the chill of the night. Funny, he wouldn’t think Heaven got cold. But then again, he wouldn’t have thought Heaven would be shitty either. The roadhouse is inviting and homey, lights on inside. Dean snags a beer from the cooler left out front and kicks the door open softly. “Hello?” He doesn’t know who he’s expecting, but it definitely wasn’t who he gets. 

“Dean!” Charlie wraps him in a hug before he can say anything, and Dean gladly melts into it. God, it’s good to see her. He pulls away and pats her cheek, checking her out. She looks good, normal. Less… dead and bloody than he last saw her? Jesus his mind is a dark place. 

“Hey kid! How the hell are you?” 

Charlie rolls her eyes at the greeting, but she can’t stop grinning. “All things considering, y’know, being dead and all, I’m good!” 

Dean laughs. She’s already rambling, and he missed her. “Sorry about that one,” he winces, remembering his part in the circumstances around her death. 

Charlie chooses to take it as a condolences. “Yeah, you too, dude. But at least we died young and hot, right?” She tugs him over to the bar and leans around to yell at the scuffed doorway. “Ash! We got company?”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Ash? You guys know each other?” 

“Can’t keep geniuses like us apart, compadre,” Dr. BadAss comes out of his backroom, arms spread out in greeting. Dean can’t stop himself from greeting him with a hug. He hadn’t known who to expect here, but Ash and Charlie are just about best case scenario. “What’re you doing here?” 

Dean knows he means how he died, but he looks around anyway. The rest of the bar is quiet and still, and Dean can hear nothing outside the heavy doors either. “I think we gotta problem, Ash.” 

Ash’s face folds into a frown. “What kinda problem?” Dean feels Charlie press in and he glances at her suddenly-serious face. 

“A big one. A heaven sized one.” They all looked around skeptically, a little Scooby-Doo-like, taking in the lifeless room around them. Finally, Ash meets Dean’s eyes, and Dean withdraws a little. 

“Yeah, we know. Welcome to the team, Deano.” 

Tag list: @dochunterwitch  @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat

[writingbykrystal]

Crash! The sound of something falling came from inside the house, followed by someone loudly swearing, and others laughing. Leah smiled as she got out of her car. Just as she was about to open the door, she had a better idea. Making sure the bottle of cheap wine that she had brought was safe, she closed her eyes, invisioned the inside of Jack's living room, and vanished.

Unfortunately, Leah miscalculated and ended up sitting directly in the middle of Jack's table, knocking over the newly built Jenga tower. Everyone stared at her for a second, until Izzy burst into laughter. "Guess that means Leah loses."

Smiling sheepishly, Leah hopped off the table and passed the wine into Izzy's waiting hands.

Jack's boyfriend Thomas, who happened to be the one that just rebuilt the tower, sighed, "I am not picking that back up again."

The door opened and Izzy's twin sister Jessica walked in. "Don't worry, Tommy, my dude, I gotcha." With a wave of her hands, the Jenga tower rebuilt itself.

Still laughing, Leah said, "Thanks, Jessie, but no telekinesis while we're actually playing, cheaters get no alcohol."

Jessie cackled and shook out her long, black hair. "Y'all are no fun. Izzy, gimme the booze."

Jessie looked around the table. "Who are we missing, just Adam?"

"Yeah. For a speedster, it's insane how he always manages to be late," Thomas said.

At that moment, the door banged open, and Adam rushed in, hair out of place, and holding another bottle of cheap wine along with some vodka. "Sorry I'm late, I forgot the alcohol. Nobody reminded me."

Jack sniggered. "That's because it's Leah's turn to bring the booze."

Confused, Adam looked at the bottle that was still in Jessie's hands. "Oh. Well, more for me then."

Before they picked teams, everyone decided to play Drinking Jenga. Whoever knocks over the tower, has to take a shot. Jack knocked it over twice, and Izzy three times. By that time, Izzy has just about lost her motor skills.

"Ok, new game," Thomas declared, after Izzy knocked it over for a forth time. "Sorry," she giggled.

They decided to split into teams for charades. "Ok, since Jack is a wimp and doesn't wanna do guys vs girls, let's pick out of a hat."

"It's not fair, the girls always win," Jack protested.

"Not true. You guys won, um, well. I'm sure you've won something," said Leah.

"We have not," said Thomas. "Anyways, let's have me and Jessie be team captains. I call going first."

After they all were divided up, Jessie's team, the Kool Kidz, consisting of her, Jack and Adam, were up first for charades. Jessie poorly mimed out an action.

"Skiing!" guessed Jack.

"Writing an email!" shouted Adam.

"Eating cotton candy!"

"Being a mime!"

"Getting robbed!"

Beep, beep beep. The time was up.

Exasperated, Jessie yelled, "Driving a car, how hard was that!"

During the next few rounds, Thomas's team, the Superstars absolutely destroyed the Kool Kidz, with the end score being 8 to 2.

All tired, and a little drunk, they all decided to sit in the living room and hang out.

Izzy, seated on the floor beside Leah, was talking about Clyde, Jack, Jessie and Leah's new annoying co-worker. "Ok, so I was doing a hold up with Hornet the other day, and Clyde, comes in all suited up and ready to go, and I was ready to honestly just let him have it, y'know, having an off day, and I skipped lunch, and all, and guess what the jerk does. Guess."

Jack's eyes grew big, and he started to chuckle. "He didn't. Tell me he didn't."

Full on chortling now, Izzy gasped out, "Yes. He did. He started monologuing at me. Full blown, 'You'll never get away with this, Ember, good always wins, blah blah blah.' And I was already having a day, and I didn't wanna deal with his shit, so I just punched him. Decked him right in the jaw, and walked away, right in the middle of his stupid hero speech. God, I hate newbies."

Gasping for air, Leah said, "Isabelle, you didn't!"

"I did, he was so bloody annoying, he even did a hero landing on the way in. I heard his knees crack!" The whole gang was now laughing so hard, nobody could get another word out. Jessie snorted so hard, she accidentally knocked over the Jenga tower across the room with her telekinesis, and Thomas shifted into a frog, and couldn't turn back until everyone stopped sniggering.

Finally, exhausted, all the heroes and villains calmed down.

"Well, lads, I think it's time for us to go," said Jessie, still wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Me and Leah have an early shift tomorrow, and I already feel like I'm gonna have a hangover."

Adam stood up and stretched. "I gotta go too, Hornet has got me on henchman duty all this week."

Izzy wrinkled her nose. "Gross. I hate henchman duty. Good luck bro."

Thomas laughed, "Same. I had it last week, and Hornet had me be a gorilla the whole time. I hate being a gorilla, they stink."

The four guests slowly exited Jack and Thomas's house. Adam, the only sober one because of his fast metabolism, was the one who had to drop the drunk girls off at their houses. As they were leaving, Izzy yelled over her shoulder, "See y'all at work, let's do this at my place next week!" She promptly ran into Leah, who then tripped over her own feet.

Sighing, Adam loaded all the drunk girls into Leah's car, and drove them home.

[cornfields-and-bad-dreams]

For @cyans-stardust

Summary: On a rainy day Geoff remembers a few moments with Michael and Gavin.

Word count: 1,666

Rating: PG-13

Geoff sat by the window sipping at his coffee, it was a quiet day, rainy but calm.  The perfect day to do nothing.  The only other people in the penthouse were Michael and Gavin, the two of them sat in the living room playing Mario Kart.  Geoff watched them out the corner of his eye, laughing to himself when Michael freaks out at another loss.

"You've got to be cheating, did Matt teach you his secrets?"

Geoff peered out at the rain again, his mind wandering to the memory of his first encounter with the two men.

The rain came down in sheets, you could barely see a foot in front of you.  Geoff trudged down the street umbrella in hand.  Hardly anyone was out walking in that weather but Geoff had started out when it was only a drizzle, so now he was stuck in the torrential rain.  All of a sudden Geoff was dragged into an ally and shoved up against a wall.  The barrel of a gun was pointed at his face, Two young men stood in front of him drenched by the rain, one holding the gun the other holding him against the wall.

"Give us your wallet."  The man restraining him ordered.

"Or else." The second man added.

Geoff could tell the two weren't from Los Santos, one spoke with an east coast accent the other an English one.  Even through the rain, Geoff could tell their clothes were old and worn with various holes and patches.  It was obvious that these were desperate men.

"You don't have to do this you know.  There are other options."

The English man seemed confused while the other scoffed, his face scrunching up with anger.

"What do you know?  Just give us your fucking money."

Geoff remained calm, it certainly wasn't the first time he'd been held at gunpoint.

"I know a lot more than you'd think.  I've been where you are, broke and desperate, trying anything I can to stay afloat.  I've done things I regret, hurt people who didn't deserve it, but I was able to find solid ground, to climb my way up from the bottom.  I didn't do it alone, and you don't have to either."

"Shut up." The man holding him let go with one hand and brought it back in a fist, striking Geoff across his face. "You don't know us, you don't know anything."

Through the rain, it was hard to tell but Geoff knew that the man was crying.

"Michael."  His friend spoke softly lowering the gun.

"I can help you.  If you'll let me."

Geoff wasn't a good samaritan, he was far from it, Geoff was the Kingpin, one of the baddest men in the city.  He ran an empire of crime the likes of no one had ever seen, but deep down he was a good person, even if others didn't see it.  And at that moment Geoff felt sorry for the two men before him.

"And what's in it for you?"  Micheal asked.

"You come to work for me.  That's all, I'll provide you a place to live, food, money, and anything else you need."

"What kinda job is it?"  The Englishman asked.

"I'm in the crime business myself, but on a much grander scale.  You work for me and we'll be going after people who deserve it."

Michael's grip loosened, as he took a step back.

"Why are you offering us this?"

"As I said before, I've been where you are now.  I know what it's like.  This city is unforgiving, so someone has to be."

The two men looked at each other then back to Geoff.

"I'm Michael, this is Gavin."  He gestured to the other man

"Geoff."

"What now?" Gavin asked.

"Let's get you, boys, to your new home."

Geoff finished his coffee and made his way into the kitchen.  Pouring himself another cup he listened to the two men in the living room.

"Michael boy, why'd you do that to me?"

"Cause I want to win dumbass."

Gavin made a sad noise as Michael laughed.  Geoff's thought drifted off to a different memory.

It was early Saturday morning, Geoff paced back and forth in the penthouse living room, Jack stood nearby biting at her nails.

"They should be back by now, when was the last time you saw them again?"  Geoff asked the younger man on the couch.

Jeremy jumped at Geoff's sudden words, looking up he stammered a moment before answering.

"We were at the bar.  I called it quits a little before midnight, but they wanted to stick around till the last call.  I got a voice message from them around 2 though.  They sounded alright then."

It was nearly 6 AM, Michael and Gavin hadn't made it back to the penthouse and everyone was getting on edge, especially Geoff.

"Maybe they crashed at one of the safe houses,"  Jack suggested.

"Or maybe they got picked up by the police, or they had some kind of accident.  Anything could have happened to them."  Geoff was officially freaking out.

"I know that, but I'm trying to think positively.  We can't just jump to the worst."  Jack was starting to get defensive.

Geoff picked up his phone again and tried to call Gavin.  The phone just rang and rang as it had been for hours now, finally clicking over to the voicemail.  Geoff threw his phone down cracking the screen.

"Geoff!  You need to calm down, getting worked up like this isn't going to help."  Jack placed their hand on Geoff's shoulder giving it a light squeeze.

Geoff breathed heavily as he stared at his phone.  He knew Jack was right but he couldn't calm down.  Michael and Gavin, his boys, were missing, but there was nothing he could do.  He was scared.

All of a sudden Geoff's phone began to ring, Michael's contact photo popped up on the cracked screen.  Geoff dove for the phone answering the call.

"Michael, where the hell are you guys?  Are you okay?"

A laugh could be heard on the other end, one that was very obviously not Michael or Gavin's.  Geoff's blood ran cold.

"Who is this?"

Jack took a step forward and Jeremy bolted off the couch at those words.

"You can call me Mr. Cunningham.  You've probably figured this out by now, but I have something of yours, two somethings to be exact.  Say hello boys."  The last bit was fainter as he was speaking to someone away from the phone.

Michael and Gavin's voices could be heard calling Geoff's name asking for help, the two sounded tired and broken.  Geoff was frozen for a moment as he processed everything, finally able to move he clenched his fist and growled into the phone.

"I don't know who you think you are but you are going to pay for this.  I'll give you one chance to hand over my boys peacefully, if you refuse there will be trouble."

"Oh Mr. Ramsey, you're not the one with the upper hand here, you don't get to make demands.  If you want your boy's back you're gonna have to do as I tell you, or else."

The sound of a gunshot could be heard in the background followed by a cry of pain from Gavin, Michael's voice could also be heard in protest.

"What do you want."  Geoff gritted his teeth.

Geoff's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of Michael cheering in victory and Gavin's bemoaning of loss.  It was probably for the best anyway, thinking about such things wasn't good for anyone.

Making his way into the living room, Geoff plopped down on the couch in between the two men.

"Mind if I watch?"

"Always great to have an audience," Gavin replied.

"Yeah sure, just don't distract me." Michael joked.

Leaning back Geoff watched as another round was started, and once again Geoff was reminded of another memory.

It had been a week since they got Michael and Gavin back, Geoff was still a bit on edge after the whole ordeal, but he kept reminding himself to stay calm for the guys' sake.

Geoff was sitting on the couch flipping through the channels when Gavin came in.  He was still limping from the bullet he'd taken in the foot.  He made his way over to the couch and stood next to Geoff a moment before speaking.

"Do you mind, if I sit here with you?"  Gavin's voice was soft, far from his usual energetic tone.

"Of course you can sit with me."

Gavin smiled a bit and came to rest beside Geoff.  After a moment Michael entered the room, passing through to the kitchen Geoff watched out the corner of his eye as Michael poked around before coming back to stand behind the couch.

"What are you watching?"  Michael's tone was quiet and tired, far from his typical loud and boisterous tone.

"Just channel surfing at the moment, trying to find something to watch,"  Geoff replied.

"Ah.  Can I, sit with you too?"  Michael was hesitant to ask.

"Of course, the more the merrier." Geoff patted the empty space next to him.

Michel made his way around the couch and sat next to Geoff.  The three men sat together as Geoff continued to scan through the channels.  Slowly the two men beside him began to move in closer until they were fulling resting against him.  Of course, Geoff didn't mind, in fact, he quite enjoyed having his boys so close.  After finding something to watch and staying on one channel for a while Gavin spoke.

"Thanks, Geoff."

"For what?"

"Everything."

"Yeah, we really appreciate you," Michael added.

"I appreciate you guys too."

Geoff wrapped his arms around the two men giving them a tight hug.

Geoff smiled, spending time with his boys was his favorite thing to do.  Whether it be sitting on the couch or causing a bit of chaos.  His crew was his family and he loved his family.

[kingdomheartsmarts]

Hello, could I please request a scenario with Axel/Lea where he and fem reader are long time childhood friends, and she walks in on him masturbating and moaning her name? He quickly scrambles to try and cover himself and come up with an explanation but she decides to "help him out" (lol sorry if that's too specific)

oh my god i love this. so much. 

honestly i’m trying to put a lot more work into these instead of forcing myself to pump them out and it’s helping me ease back into being able to write more again :) basically i’m trying to make them a tiny-bit longer. i hope that’s okay with you guys. 

smutty under cutty. 

Lea/Reader | Always There for You

Lea had always been there- being an absolute moron and a rock- for as long as you could remember; someone who was always there with a snide remark offset by a smile. It’s always been like this- following the redhead around like you were a lost puppy when you were kids before being pulled into an eventful friendship with him and Isa. Sometimes it wasn’t ideal, sometimes it was needed, sometimes it was everything that was keeping you from pulling your hair out- 

But sometimes it also made you want to finally shut Lea up with your mouth against his. 

Lea has always been mouthy and loud- obnoxiously himself even when you just needed a moment of peace- it’s always been like this, that’s why today was so annoying-

Coming home to your shared apartment, the cool air calming your thoughts for a split second before hearing Lea’s blaring music from his room- the noise cutting through your ears and ringing through your skull as you made your way to your bedroom, rubbing your temples. 

“Lea- I’m home, can you turn that down?” You yelled, the volume staying a constant before knocking your fist against the door- 

“Shit- H-Hey,” Lea greeted you from the other side, the music abruptly stopping. 

“Turn it down. I have a headache, please.” 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” He said, the music starting back up, “Is that alright?” 

“Perfect; I’m going to shower,” 

“Cool,” 

If you didn’t have a raging headache, you would of caught the way his voice spiked with surprise and anxiety, the way that he knocked himself around his room to get to his phone to turn down the music, and the way he seemed to of been violently pulled out of his own thoughts- his mind preoccupied with something so intimate he forgot his surroundings. That being said, it wasn’t his fault; you came home early from work with a raging headache, a mixture of the weather and stress causing a matra of internal thuds. 

You just wanted a warm shower, some meds, and a nap. 

Tossing down your phone and wallet, you pulled off your shirt as the door closed behind you. You could care less if Lea were to somehow see you, especially in this moment, but he seemed pretty preoccupied when you interrupted him. Kicking off your shoes and socks, you pulled off your pants and panties, chucking them into a clothes hamper before pulling off your bra; it was friday anyway, you didn’t need that bra right now. 

Entering your bathroom, you swore you heard your name called, through the not-so-thick walls of the apartment; your bathroom being the in between area between Lea’s room and your own. Ignoring the convincing noises, you pulled your hair down as you let it rest over your shoulders, turning on the warm water as you finally felt yourself relax, your tense muscles relaxing under the hot stream of water- your eyes slipping shut with a soft hum. 

“That’s it, babydoll,” 

“The hell?” you murmured, realizing that Lea was the source of those words, your face heating up with the realization-

He’s been masturbating this whole time.

Well, that’s alright, just leave him be- he needs his alone time and if he needs it right now then that’s okay, you said to yourself, lathering up your hair as you massage your scalp. 

“Fuck- You’re so good for me,” 

Who was he thinking about? Was he thinking about someone you didn’t know, or someone that the two of you knew and it was his little crush? Was he even smitten with someone? Was he just letting out empty praises to get himself off on his own voice?

You snickered at the last thought, the idea of Lea only being able to get off when he was able to hear his own voice- but the idea of Lea touching himself plagued you- 

Did he have toys? Was he facetiming someone or watching porn? Or was he just completely solo while thinking of someone else?

Washing out the shampoo, you bit your tongue at the last thought as your gut twisted with jealousy- 

Lea thinking about someone else. 

You refused to admit the very fact that you were the one smitten by him. You loved Lea with every miracle and dumbass decision he made and you couldn’t handle the idea of him getting off to someone else-

So what if he was getting off on the idea of you?

Dismissing your spiralling thoughts, you pulled yourself back to reality as you ran conditioner through your hair, letting it sit for a moment as you ran body wash over your skin. 

“Shit- come on, just a little more for me,” 

Your body felt hot as you turned down the hot water, trying to cool yourself off as your core ignited with the thoughts of Lea laying naked on his bed, jacking off while moaning. 

“I’m gonna take care of you, that’s a good girl,” 

Finally washing out the conditioner, you were finally growing uncomfortable as your skin crawled with the desire to relieve yourself. 

“I’m gonna take good care of you, kitty,” 

Your hand paused on the knobs of the shower as you took in what he just said- 

Kitty. 

Sure, you knew the whole daddy-kitten thing, but he didn’t say kitten. He said kitty. The same exact nickname he called you from the time you were teenagers. It wasn’t something he normally said to everyone- not even close, with the memory of a girl asking him if he would call her kitty before swiftly shooting her down, telling her that you were kitty. 

Finally turning off the water, you quickly towelled off before drying your hair with the towel, your thoughts racing as you attempted to distract yourself from Lea’s not-so-far-away moans. Wrapping the towel around you as you snuck out of your room, staying as quiet as possible as you leaned your ear against his door-

The explicit sound of his moans and rough strokes pained your core as you relished in his pleasure for a moment, continuing to moan as you reached for the handle of his door, the towel still wrapped around you as you silently turned the handle-

Lea laying with his back to his bed, resting on some pillows as he held a picture in one hand and his dick in the other, his hand quickly stroking his length as his half lidded eyes studied the picture- 

A picture you gave him of you at the beach, clad in clothes that are only called that because of a marketing meeting. 

You pervert, you thought as he continued to let out babbles of moans, his words mixed and mumbled as his length leaked precum. 

“That’s it, kitty, god-” Lea groaned his head falling back against the pillows as you pushed open the door a little further, relishing in his nude body as you stood in his doorway. 

“Whatcha doin’, pervert?” You purred with cockiness dripping from your voice, Lea jumping out of his skin at you standing at his doorway- your hand on the door and on your towel as he attempted to cover himself.

“Uh…” Lea trailed off, cocking your brow at him as you closed the door behind you, locking the two of you in the room together. “You wouldn’t be masturbating to a picture I gave you, now would you?” You asked sweetly as you made your way over to his bed, his face starting to match his hair as he stared at you, wide-eyed. 

“What’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue?” You asked as you leaned down, running your tongue along his jaw, “Or should I ask, does Kitty got your tongue?” 

“You-You’re not mad?” 

“I don’t typically go into the bedrooms of men who are obviously masturbating only wearing a towel, so no i’m not mad,” you said teasingly, resting your knees on either side of his hips, sitting over him as he kept a hand on the sheet covering his length.

“Only a towel?” Lea asked after a moment, his hands finally leaving what they once clung to as he grabbed your covered hips, teasingly sticking your tongue out at him. 

“Mhmm- You wanna see?” You teased as you laid him back down, your hands running down his warm skin that had a sheen of sweat. 

“Who am I to deny that?” He said lowly, your hands finally pulling off your towel as he groaned softly as it fell away, your eyes focused on him. “Shit, kitty,” He growled, pulling you down on top of him, his arms wrapped around your back as he took one of your nipples into his mouth- his eyes meeting you as he let out a soft groan. Your hands found their way into his hair as you pulled him forward, his lips curling into a smirk as he released your nipple, his hand running down your back to cup your ass. 

“Had to moan my name that loudly, hm?” You teased, kissing his jaw as he massaged your ass, your core burning at the close proximity to his warm hands; a soft chuckle left his mouth as you kissed your way up his chin, gently kissing around his mouth as he let out an irritated growl. 

“Shut up and kiss me,” Lea snapped, crashing his warm lips into yours as you let out a soft moan- his warm lips moving against yours as his tongue ran over your bottom lip, a soft gasp escaping you as his tongue ran over yours, his fingers finally teasing your slick core. 

“You want it that bad, huh?” He teased as he pulled you to lay directly on top of him, your head resting against his chest as his fingers ever so gently dipped into your core, testing the waters as you let out a content sigh. 

“How about you shut- ah!” You cut off your sentence with a gasp, his fingers entering you as you arched your back, his long fingers massaging your inner walls- just for him to roughly remove them a moment later. “Were you saying something?” He smirked as he brought his lips to your neck, gently nipping and suckling on your soft skin. 

“If you don’t hurry up and fuck me-” 

“Lewd words coming from you,” 

“I just caught you masturbating to a picture I gifted you,” 

“Fair enough,” Lea smirked, flipping you over for him to loom over you, his eyes dark as they were shrouded in lust, his hands finding your hips as he pulled your thighs around his hips, his length hard and waiting. 

“Do you think you need anymore prep?” He asked lowly in your ear, his teeth taking the tender lobe and rubbing it with the sharpness, your lewd whimper making his cock twitch. 

“No~ Please just hurry up~” You whimpered as you pulled his hips closer to yours. 

“Why’re you so horny, kitty?” Lea teased as he finally pushed into you, your gasp making him groan as he pushed into you, “Did my moans get to you that badly?” 

“Shut it-” You snapped, a blush covering your face as you wrapped your arms around his back, your face buried in his neck. 

“Should I stop reminding you about how I moaned about you and practiced praising you?” He smirked against your skin as he pushed all the way in, your loud groan making his cock twitch as your walls fluttered around him. 

“Lea~” you whimpered, your walls deliciously stretched as your walls fluttered at the beautiful feeling, his arms wrapped securely around you as he held you close to him. 

“Oh, that sounds nice,” He purred as he teasingly rolled his hips, your groan telling him everything he needed to know as he continued rolling his hips into your waiting heat. 

“God- More~” 

“I’m not god, I thought you had my name memorized by now-” 

“Damnit Lea if you don’t fucking go harder-” You snapped, his teeth raking across the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Harder?” He tentatively asked, keeping his hips at the lazily pleasurable pace.

“Please~” 

“Like this?” He snapped his hips roughly, a loud groan leaving your mouth as he smirked at your expression- your head flung back as your nails cut into his shoulders, your eyes half lidded and glazed over with pleasure, and your mouth hung open in a moan. 

“Lea- Fuck-” You groaned as you brought him impossibly closer to you, your back arching as his hips continued to roughly slap against you, his balls slapping agaisnt your ass, the lewd sound making you whimper. 

“What? I feel that good?” Lea teased, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as the sentence left his mouth, his groan resonating through the room as his mouth hung open in a moan, “Fuck you’re so good for me.” 

“Lea, more~” You whined as your hand intertwined in his hair, pulling his head up as his lips crashed into yours- the kiss messy and imperfect as teeth clashed with a shuttering groan, Lea’s thumb teasing and abusing your clit as you groaned into his mouth. 

“That’s it- hah- good Kitty,” He praised you, watching your hips twitch and shutter as you squealed, your orgasm coming too quick and not fast enough all at once. 

“Fuck- Fuck- Lea~” your resonating, open-mouthed groan echoed through the room as your walls convulsed around his throbbing length, your nails cutting into his shoulders and scalp as you clung onto him with waves of your orgasm rushing through you. 

“That’s it, babydoll- just a little more for me,” he panted in your ear, his breath hot as it fanned your skin, goosebumps raising as your body quivered under his unwavering assault. You whimpered under him, your hands helplessly holding onto him as his pants and moans grew in volume, the overstimulation making your body limp.

With an abrupt groan, Lea came as he held onto you, his hands warm and sweaty against your back as he shuttered, his cum painting your inner walls as the warmth filled you. His thrust finally faltered as he came down from his high, his body cradling you under his warmth, his head lifting to meet your eyes. “God, I've wanted to do that for so long,” Lea said lowly, his voice starting to rasp from everything that just happened, pulling himself out of you while he looked down at you. 

“Fuck,” you cursed as your heart continued to pound in the constrains of your chest, your hands continuing to hold Lea as he smiled down on you, his lips gently pecking yours. 

“That was amazing,” he smiled, nuzzling your ear as he wrapped his arms around you, flipping you over to lay on top of him. 

“Do you always last that long?” You asked weakly, resting your head against his shoulder. 

“Depends on how much you tease me, baby girl,” He said with a wink, playfully rolling your eyes at him. 

“Good; I’ll keep that in mind, then,” You quietly said as you nuzzled your head into his chest. 

“‘M always here for you,” Lea playfully said as you kissed up his neck. 

“I know. You’re not gonna be having anyone else now, right?” 

“Never did, not gonna start.” 

“Good.”

[darecruit]

Sneak Peek #1. First Look into Chapter 18!

I'm already 7, 920 words into this next chapter. That's 14 pages—3 of which are dedicated to The Spanking, as Rachel will come to call it. (Note: Of the 1,737 words total from start to finish, only 350 of them are actual "on-screen" action. The rest is Rachel and Shelby's thoughts).

Quinn's also gonna get hers this chapter (the guilt and worry that Shelby will find out is getting too much for her). Poor Frannie's going to have to figure out how to be Quinn's parent and not her sister. It's a steep learning curve and Frannie faces it head on.

But for now, enjoy the opening scene of Chapter 18, which picks up right where Shelby had swatted Rach and sent her to the house. Mother and daughter are both adrift and feeling anxious, but Jack and Sarah are there with plenty of hugs and LOTS of wisdom.

Chapter 18: Repercussions, Part Two

Rachel’s heart was beating hard and tears were streaming down her face as she hurried up the front steps and away from her decidedly upset mother. Her ears (and her rear) were still burning from Shelby’s reprimand. She very cautiously approached the front door and her waiting aunt, worried that Sarah would add her own swats the moment she got close enough. She felt her face flush a brilliant crimson as her traitorous brain replayed the last few moments, knowing Sarah and Jack had witnessed everything.

Rachel had let out a low whimper when she saw her mother reappear on the porch, then hurry toward them in the car. Jack had opened his door first, jumping out and holding his hands out. Rachel saw that he had tried to say something to her mom, but Shelby ignored him as she continued towards Rachel’s side. Rachel flung her own door open but remained inside the car, unable to move.

Shelby was at her side in an instant, her hand reaching in to grab her and pull her out. Rachel yelped in surprise and was then pulled into strong arms and held fiercely. She could feel her mother’s anxiety and upset with her, but also an overwhelming abundance of love.

“Don’t you ever pull a stunt like this again, young lady. You scared me to death!” Shelby scolded even as she nestled her cheek against Rachel’s head. Rachel swore her mother smelled her then, as if she was trying to inhale her very essence.

“I’m sorry, Mom, I—I didn’t mean to,” Rachel answered back, clinging to her mother and soaking up all of the love she was willing to give.

Without warning, Shelby pulled back, holding Rachel by the shoulders and forcing eye contact. “I’m serious, Rachel. You cannot run off like that again, not ever. I don’t care what the reason—mad, upset, bored—” At this, she paused and Rachel felt herself being turned to the side. Her mother spoke firmly and deliberately, “—You do—NOT—Run—Away.” Her palm cracked down hard four times to emphasize her point. Rachel wailed.

She was spun to face her once more, tears clouding her mother’s features, but she could make out enough to know that Shelby was staring deep down into her soul. It was enough to send a shiver down her spine and make her squirm uncomfortably. Well, that and the fact that her butt throbbed where her mom had spanked her—a foreboding sign for what was to come, she was sure. She was wearing denim mid-length shorts and she still felt the full force of those swats; she thought they should have provided more cushion than that…unless that was their cushion.

Shelby then pointed to the house, ordering her to go inside. “I need to talk to Uncle Jack and then I’ll be inside and you and I are going to have a very long talk, young lady,” she added.

Rachel could see the flash of anger in her mother’s eyes and she felt a wave of guilt crash over her; it was her fault Shelby was angry at Jack. What if, because of her, their relationship was ruined? Rachel seemed to leave destruction in her wake no matter how hard she tried otherwise. “Please don’t be mad at Uncle Jack,” she begged. “It—It’s my fault. I didn’t want to come home. I’m sorry—”

Shelby shook her head. “I’m not mad at Uncle Jack, honey, I just need to talk to him. Go inside now,” she said, pointing once more to the house. Rachel remained where she was, so her mother nudged her to get her moving. When she still stood, staring back, Shelby became firm, “Do as you are told, Rachel Barbra. Please don’t add defiance to your list of offenses.”

And that was how Rachel found herself in her current predicament, crying, blushing, and standing just out of reach of Sarah’s grasp. “Rachel, get in the house NOW!” came her mother’s frustrated yell. Rachel jumped and hesitated all of a millisecond before deciding Sarah was the safer of her two options right now.

“C’mon, honey, let’s listen to your mom,” Sarah said, reaching her arm out towards her niece to guide her forward. She didn’t miss the way the small teen slunk past her, twisting just so to ensure her backside never faced Sarah. The woman shook her head and ushered the girl inside. She shut the door and then pulled Rachel into a tight hug.

Rachel let out a tiny gasp of surprise but soon found herself relaxing into the embrace. She squirmed when Sarah finally released her, holding her at arm’s length much the same way Shelby had moments before. Dread filled her as she wondered if Sarah would finish it off the same way too.

“You caused quite a stir, young lady,” her aunt said, though not unkindly. “You worried all of us.”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” Rachel found herself repeating the same apology she had given her mom.

Sarah reached out with her right hand to cup Rachel’s flushed cheek, brushing the stray tears away with the pad of her thumb. “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but you are so very loved, sweetheart,” she murmured.

“Even by you?” Rachel scoffed, her walls shoring up their defenses.

“What?” Sarah all but gasped. “Of course by me! Why would you think otherwise?”

“Because of…what I did to Lexi?” Rachel said uncertainly.

Sarah sighed and let go of Rachel. Rachel took that as a sign of rejection and tried to step away; Sarah grabbed her hand and pulled her into the living room and down onto the sofa to sit.

“Honey, I want you to listen to me,” Sarah began, her hands sandwiching Rachel’s good one between her own, “I love you. You are my niece and my family. There is nothing you could possibly ever do that would make me stop loving you for even a second. Do you hear me?”

“But Lexi—”

“Lexi eavesdropped on a private conversation between your mom and me and then used that misheard information against you to hurt you. She is just as much to blame for what happened between the two of you as you are. She will be apologizing to you for her actions, as I’m sure your mom will tell you to do for yours. And I’ve punished Lexi for her role today; I’m hoping this is the last time she will do something like this to you or anyone else. Whatever consequences your mom decides are appropriate for your part is between the two of you…though I do hope it’s the last time you act this way as well.”

“It will be ‘cause Mom’s gonna kill me,” Rachel lamented. Or just get rid of me, she added to herself as more tears fell.

Sarah chuckled gently, pulling Rachel into her arms once more. “It’ll only feel that way for a little while, I expect,” she reassured.

“Aunt Saraaaah,” Rachel whined, feeling her face heat up. What wasit with this family and the spanking jokes? They acted like it was no big deal. It was a very, VERY big deal! Especially when it was Rachel’s ass on the line!

“I don’t think your mom’s anywhere near as upset about the situation with Lexi as she is about how you’ve been acting around Quinn and especiallyrunning off like you did. You scared her, Rach.”

Jack let out a long sigh as Shelby’s attention returned to him once Rachel was safely inside. “Took you long enough, didn’t it?” she said as she stalked towards him. He knew his sister was near to bursting with pent-up energy that now needed somewhere to go. He was more than happy to help her blow off that steam.

“Take a few deep breaths, Shelbs,” he directed, his voice calm, soothing. Shelby rolled her eyes and huffed.

“I’m calm, Jack,” she grumbled. “I am,” she added at his dubious look. “I’m just…frustrated. It’s not like I haven’t tried talking to her to get her to open up. She refuses. She just becomes defensive and argumentative. I’ve tried to be patient and understanding. I’ve tried sending her to her room and early bedtimes. Her behavior doesn’t change—it’s getting worse. And for her to just run like that. She can’t—Jacky, she ran away from me. What am I…Am I doing something wrong here? I’m trying, I want to help. I can’t help if she won’t let me in. And her behavior…I don’t know the reason behind it and I can only guess and—and—I can’t just let her get away with being mean to others, whatever else is going on. I can’t.”

“You aren’t doing anything wrong, Shelbs. It’s—I duno the reason behind her behavior with Quinn either, she wouldn’t tell me, but something is going on there. She was really upset over why I was there to get her instead of you. She—She thought it was because you were too angry and didn’t want to see her. She’s afraid she’s going to be sent away if she does something bad enough or makes you mad enough…I told her you’d never do that but she’s scared.”

Shelby felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest with a butter knife—agonizingly slow and extremely painful. She should have known better. It was no secret that Rachel was afraid of doing something to lose her last parent—how could she not, when the two who had raised her for fourteen years tossed her aside like last week’s garbage?

Jack could see the self-loathing written all over his sister’s face. “Hey,” he ducked his head to gain eye contact. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel bad. You have nothing to feel bad over anyway. Rachel doesn’t think those things because of you. It’s because of those assholes who—” Jack stopped himself; he felt the anger at those men surging through his veins and knew if he continued on that thread he would be too angry himself to be of any help to Shelby. He took a deep breath and began again. “This is all new to her. We all have to remember, you’ve only had her for a little over a month and her entire world has been turned upside down. She’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

The look on Shelby’s face didn’t improve, so Jack kept going. “I just wanted you to be aware. I’m not sure she will bring it up with you herself. Maybe that’s part of the reason she doesn’t want to open up to you, for fear of rejection and—and being sent away.”

Shelby’s stomach clenched. Was she not doing enough for her child to make her feel safe? And loved? She wanted to run inside and scoop Rachel up in her arms and forget about any and all punishment. Something must have shown on her face, because Jack jumped right in over those thoughts.

“That doesn’t mean she gets a free pass on her behavior!” he said. “You have to be consistent with her, keep your promises to her—whether they’re positive or negative, you have to keep them. That’s how you earn her trust. Show up and do what you say you will. All kids want safety and structure, Rachel even more so because she’s never had a parent be there for her through everything.”

“But if she ran because she’s scared, how can I…I can’t spankher. Shouldn’t I let this slide instead? Talk to her but no punishment?”

“No!” Jack exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst thing you could do for her. You’ve promised her a spanking—Hell, she expectsit, Shel. She knows what she did was wrong and she knows she’s going to be punished for it. Besides, there is something happening with Quinn. She was plenty defensive and just plain angry whenever I tried to crack that shell. But whatever is happening there, you are absolutely right—you can’t let her act that way or be mean to others just because what? She doesn’t like them? That won’t fly. You know it and deep down, she knows it too.”

Shelby sighed, letting her brother’s words sink in. He hadn’t said anything she didn’t already know, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself in this moment. She had had every intention of following through with Rachel’s spanking when the girl got home, after a much-needed shower and talk, but it was easier to resign herself to it when she just thought it had to do with unresolved jealousy and maybe even a healthy dose of her child testing her boundaries. Being reminded that Rachel was still so new to this life and her part in this family, that her fears were immense and dug deep…Shelby didn’t want to have to be the hard-ass here. But, even with those fears, it didn’t mean Rachel got a pass on poor behavior. Shelby could address both—and she would.

Sarah didn’t miss the way Rachel tensed at the mention of Quinn. She knew Shelby had been chalking Rachel’s behavior toward the other teen up to jealousy, but Sarah wasn’t so sure. Her gut told her something bigger was going on, but without more information, she couldn’t even begin to guess the problem. She understood why Shelby was so frustrated with the matter. It was going to take time to learn Rachel’s tells and what made her tick, and with Rachel so unwilling to open up about any of it, it was like fumbling around in the dark.

“You know, Rach, no matter how upset or angry your mom is with your actions, it’s never directed at you. Do you understand that? You can hate someone’s behavior and love them very, very much. And your mom loves you more than words can say, sweetheart,” Sarah reassured the girl. She wasn’t sure how helpful it was in this moment, but Rachel needed to hear it regardless.

Rachel sighed and wiggled out of her aunt’s arms. She needed space. At this point, she was mentally, emotionally, and physically drained. She just wanted to get all of this over with. She wanted a bath and to curl up in her bed and take a nap, and to forget this day ever happened. “I—I’m gonna go to my room, Aunt Sarah,” she said. She was up and heading for the stairs before her aunt could respond. Unfortunately, her mom and Uncle Jack chose that exactmoment to come inside. Shelby automatically reached a hand out and stopped her.

“Mom, please…I just—I just wanna go to my room,” her voice cracked and she briefly met hazel eyes—enough to see them soften. Her mother nodded and let her go.

“I’ll be up shortly. Start getting out of those clothes—you need a bath,” Shelby called after her child’s retreating back. She offered a small, warm smile at the surprised glance Rachel threw over her shoulder.

The three adults waited until they heard the click of Rachel’s door closing before heading into the living room together. Sarah sat on the sofa first, followed by Shelby; Jack leaned against the armrest. “Something’s definitely up with her and Quinn,” Sarah revealed. “And Rachel’s more than a little worried about how upset you are. She told me you’re going to kill her.”

Shelby sighed. It was the same thing Jack told her all over again. Why were these two seemingly able to read her child so much better than she was?

“We’ve just had loads more practice,” Jack answered when she asked it out loud. “You know Rachel best though.”

“It sure as hell doesn’t feel like it!” Shelby groaned into her hands. “I feel like I’m screwing up left and right.”

Sarah laid a gentle hand on her sister-in-law’s shoulder in sympathy and support. What mother—what parent—hadn’t felt the same at one time or another while raising children? “You’re not alone, Shelbs,” she murmured. “I know it doesn’t feel like it to you right now, but you are doing amazing with Rachel. The poor girl’s just…confused right now. She needs constant reassurance and proof that you are here and are staying. Hug her, kiss her—spank her. She is looking for that structure and the knowledge that she will be taken care of, in all the ways she needs to be. Provide that for her, even when she pushes back—especially when she pushes back. That’s normal, believe me.”

“Sarah’s right—consistency and follow-through. Show her you’re here for the long haul. I don’t know that she’s going to make this easy for you. Try to talk it out first anyway, make it clear it’s her behavior and not heryou’re upset with. Then light that little ass up and move on. You’ll both feel better.”

Shelby smiled in spite of herself—her brother had a way with words sometimes, the big-ass goofball. His levity achieved what it had meant to; Shelby was feeling lighter, more sure of herself. She knew that however it played out, she and Rachel were going to come out of it on the other side just fine.

Jack and Sarah offered several more words of encouragement, along with hugs, to Shelby before going to collect their own wayward child. Lexi came sulking out of the sunroom, following her parents in tense silence to the front door. Shelby offered her own hug to the girl and another apology on behalf of Rachel. “She’ll apologize herself next time we see you,” she added with a kiss to her niece’s head.

Lexi grumbled something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Yeah, well, bust her ass on behalf of me,” as she made her departure. Both Sarah and Jack stopped her in her tracks.

“Excuse me?” Sarah gasped, followed by Jack’s, “You wanna repeat that, little girl?”

Lexi spun on her heels, glaring at both parents in turn. “What?!” she whined. “I’m gonna have a black eye because of her! The least she deserves is a sore butt!”

“Alexandra Leigh—”

“Oh my God—Lexi!” Shelby couldn’t stop her exclamation. She bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud—it would hardly do for her niece to think she approved of her sass. She was, however, wholly impressed with it—and glad she didn’t have to deal with it.

“I know someone who’s gonna have a sore butt!” Jack thundered, stepping into his daughter’s space. In the blink of an eye, he snatched her arm, turned her to the side, and had delivered an almighty smack to her rear end.

Shelby winced at the sound and was reminded of the time when, at nineteen, she had been on the receiving end of that same hard hand. Her niece squealed and threw a hand back for protection, then hissed, “Daddy, don’t!”

“You’re walking a very thin line, Lex,” Jack growled as he let the girl go. “Apologize to Aunt Shelby and say goodbye. We’ll talk more at home.”

Teary eyes met Shelby’s as Lexi did as she was told. Shelby reached out to hug the girl and accepted her apology. “I know you’re upset with Rachel right now. I get it, honey,” she said, her tone gentle. Then more firm, “But how I decide to approach the situation with her is none of your business or up for discussion. She’s not going to get away with cursing at you or slapping you, okay? That’s all you need to know about the matter.”

Lexi nodded and then allowed herself to be ushered out of the house by her mother. Jack hung back until they were out of earshot, then smirked at his sister. “See? I told you—consistency and follow-through.”

Shelby laughed and pushed him out of her house, watching him catch up to his wife and daughter. She waved them away and then shut the door and locked it. She slumped against the back of it, staring up the stairs as she collected her thoughts. With a deep breath, Shelby pushed herself away from the door and towards the stairs. It was time to get this whole thing over with.