#because that would have made it an incredibly awkward conversation. instead it was awkward for just me. yay😑

[smoreboi]

the way some people in older generations talk about suicide is crazy, like they legit talk like death should be a meritocracy, not even making a wtnv reference, they legit believe it. people talking like “kids these day meet the slightest resistance and immediately kill themselves, back in my day we dealt with so much more and we never did that” like. seriously these weirdos stand in front of suicidal people and say you haven’t suffered enough to earn death.

[seventeenpins]

bad girl

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: you're staying in your hometown for a couple of months with your mom and relatively new stepdad. he walks in on you masturbating, and is surprised at the sort of porn you've been watching. no outbreak. very smutty. 18+

warnings: ooh god where to begin??, reader is kind of a detached menace but in a fun way?, masturbation, porn watching, infidelity, choking, pussy slapping, pussy eating, unsafe piv, dirty talk, big dick, daddy kink, bit of breeding kink, age difference (unspecified, but reader is late 20s, joel mid-40s or whatever you like really), begging, slight dom/sub vibes, readers mum is a ho, somewhat degrading language (probably other warnings????)

a/n: honestly don't know what happened here. one minute i was working on what i intended to be a lil daddy kink drabble and then it turned into a whole other beast. also--i'm a recently out nb person but feel most of my writing has focused on fem readers. any nbs out there who'd want smut more tailored to us??? doesn't come up in this fic, but in my heart joel miller is bisexual and would make for some gr8 gender play ahhhh

you had only met your stepdad twice before he married your mom, and only a couple of times since, and you could never quite get a read on him. he seemed quiet and gruff. upsettingly hot with his salt and pepper hair, and his biceps, and his little bit of tummy, but seemingly entirely unattainable (how your mom pulled him, you'll never know). your mom didn't have the greatest track record as far as not cheating on her husbands, and you didn't know how much or how little he knew about her past, but you were incredibly curious how long this one'd last.

he's polite. enigmatic. a man of few words. he had two kids, who you hadn't actually met yet, but they were a few years younger than you and away at college--one daughter from a previous marriage, the other adopted when he was a single dad.

you'd only been staying here for a couple of weeks, usually only home for two months out of the year to do some freelance work and catch up with friends, but since your mom got remarried (again) you're adjusting to the new dynamic. you didn't have the best relationship with your mom, but you didn't argue. didn't fight. didn't have enough interest or passion to try and make her angry. you had a mutual understanding--you'd stay here for a couple months of the year, rent-free, and you wouldn't get into it with her about how her four husbands and a dozen boyfriends in between them in the nearly thirty years you'd been alive had simply made you impassive towards most men, knowing they'd never be able to stick around, and instead you took what you wanted and then ditched them before they could ditch you. to say you had daddy issues was just the tip of the iceberg.

there's only been one family dinner night since you've been back, but calling it awkward was an understatement. you were sat in almost total silence, as your mom scrolls on her phone and joel scoops up some mashed potatoes and slaps them onto his plate.

"so, uh-," he begins, clearly not sure how to start a conversation, "how's your work been going? guessing it's pretty slow these months since you're able to take the time away? your freelance stuff going well?"

"sure," you agree, "it does get slow this time of year. freelance has been good. got a couple of projects i'm enjoying working on."

there's another silence.

"your momma said you'd been dating someone you met at your work? how's that been going?"

you laughed, thinking back to one of the only guys you'd mentioned to your mother, less out of a closeness to him and more because you wanted your mom to get off your case, "honestly, that ended a while ago. he was a pretty terrible lay."

joel clearly wasn't expecting that, and you smirked at him as he choked on the beer he was sipping, coughing and trying to cover up any spittle. your mom gently pats him on the back, still staring at her phone, not even listening. typical.

not sure how to follow this up, joel just shrugs and puts on a stoic face. "sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. what a shame."

you'd be lying if you said that didn't make your heart flutter just a little.

you've attuned to the general framework of home again. you've noticed a few other things, too. first, your stepdad seems to be taking a whole lot of evening shifts. second, your mom seems to be out when he's out, too, but always manages to slip in just before he gets home. finally, if there's one thing you know about joel, it's that if he's working an evening shift, you can pretty much guarantee that he's gonna be at least an hour later coming home than he says he'll be. more often than not, two. you've been here for sixteen days, and in the eleven days he's worked late, he's been late late. and this morning, joel said he wouldn't be home till at least 9pm.

it's only 5pm, so you think absolutely nothing of it when you pull up your favorite porn site, careless about keeping your bedroom door closed.

sometimes it takes you a long time to decide on what porn to watch. sometimes you want the release, and just need something that'll get you there quick. and then there are some days where you know exactly what you want. you know exactly how you want it, and you know just where to find it.

you've got an incognito browser up as you scroll through the page till you find the section you're looking for. click open a couple of videos in separate tabs. skip the ads.

place the laptop beside you, choose one to start with, and watch as the scene unfolds.

you need this. it's only been a couple of weeks since you've gotten laid, but you and your most recent fuck buddy have more or less broken up and you are extraordinarily horny, with no outlet besides your hand (and, technically, your trusty magic wand, but you forgot to bring your charging cable and she's only got so much life in her).

you focus on the scene, slowly dragging your fingers along your pussy lips, your other hand pinching and twisting at a nipple. you listen to the moans on screen as you tease yourself, dipping a finger into your tight, wet heat, and then adding another. the friction begins to build, and the pressure you're putting on your clit is just right.

"fuck", you let out a breathless moan as you start finger fucking yourself in earnest. your hips are stuttering and you feel it building so deliciously and you absolutely don't hear the knock on your door and the slight clear of a throat.

and then you register it, a couple of moments later.

you look up from your laptop screen and towards your door and you see your stepdad, cup of coffee in hand, and he's staring at you with an expression you can't parse, one eyebrow raised.

you buffer, taking a moment more for you to react to him, and you manage it in the worst possible way.

"fuck!!" you shout, slamming the laptop shut and practically flinging it away from you, pulling your hand from under the sheets and not-so-subtly wiping your slick on your duvet, and pulling your top back down over your tits. it's all done in a split second, and it was neither low-key nor quiet. you know your face is growing more flushed by the moment, and you can swear joel is actually smirking.

you stare each other down before you finally speak, "what are you doing home so early?"

"i live here," joel shrugs, takes a sip of the coffee, and then realises he might sound like a bit of a dick. "just- uh. just found out some... shitty news. decided to take the day off."

you almost forget the situation, quick to voice your worry--"are you okay joel? what's going on?"

he snorts. opens his mouth and closes it, as if he's decided better of it, and then opens it again. "just found out your mom's been stepping out on me. well. thought it was true for a while, but my brother just saw her with some guy. guess that's all the confirmation i need." he laughs, wryly, and his smile is dangerous.

"well shit," you say. it doesn't surprise you in the least, but you're not sure if it'd be better or worse to acknowledge that, and then you immediately remember your newest stepfather just caught you masturbating and you're deeply self conscious again.

"i'm really sorry, joel, but you've clearly-" you clear your throat, "caught me at a bad time. is there something i can help you with?"

he looks you up and down for a moment, and you can swear he's looking at your mouth for a second longer than you'd expect.

"well," he says, "i'd come up to see if you wanted anything for dinner. i was gonna order takeout."

there's a long pause.

"but now i'm curious about what i interrupted."

your eyes widen.

"let me see your computer. i wanna know what you were watching that you're so embarrassed of."

you immediately grab your laptop close to you and shake your head. this is something joel cannot see. "absolutely fuckin not," you tell him, and his smile gets sharper.

"i wasn't askin', sweetheart."

there's something dangerous about him now, and even though it frightens you, it's somehow exciting, too. commanding. persuasive.

he puts his mug down, and you barely think about what you're doing when you hand him the laptop, type in the password, and turn it around towards him.

you can't bare to look at the screen at the same time as him. it's fucked up and weird and he'd have every reason to avoid you forever after this, but there's a small (but persuasive) part of you that's telling you that this is a line he's willingly crossing, and there's a charge beneath it, and maybe you could get from him exactly what you want.

you study his face as he scrolls down the page. you hear him click, but no sound starts playing--he must be looking at the other tabs.

his eyes widen, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding as you watch his face.

you want him to say something. you need him to say something.

he hits play on one of the videos and the room is immediately fills with the sounds of slick flesh and moans and cries of "oh, daddy, oh daddy please--"

it's only then that he looks at you.

"well aren't you a filthy girl, hmm?" joel ridicules, "and don't think i don't notice the trend with these little videos of yours."

it's humiliating. you almost expect to die out of embarrassment right on the spot.

"look at some of these titles," joel continues, "stepdaughter gets fingerfucked by stepdaddy, stepdaughter's pussy pumped with daddy's cum ASMR, jesus christ girl-" he laughs, incredulous, "letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole".

joel's staring you down and you still haven't said anything, and that just won't do.

"these the usual kinda thing you like to touch yourself to? or is this a new subject now that you're home, spending time around your stepdaddy?"

"i-" you start, "i don't know, i-"

it's not an act, you're pretty fuckin frazzled, practically cocooning yourself in your covers and you shrink back in shame, and this seems to amuse joel to no end

"how's this, sweet girl," he says, and you realise he's been getting closer and closer to you and now he's seated only inches from your bare legs and pussy, still covered up with your blankets, "you tell me to stop, and i'll leave this room right now and close the door and we can pretend i never saw anything here-"

"no!" you cry out, and then slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at yourself while joel starts to chuckle.

"or," he continues, "you can let your stepdaddy make you feel real good."

"yes-" you cry, and not a moment later, the blankets are being pulled back and he's stroking two thick fingers along your cunt.

"there's a good girl," he says, and actually groans as he dips into you, collecting your slick, "so fucking wet for me. it is me you've been thinking about, ain't it?" he asks.

"yes joel," you say, because it's the fucking truth. you've been thinking about him nonstop for a while now, thinking about how his muscled arms look in those stupid threadbare t-shirts, thinking about the sigh he makes when he's had his first sip of a cold beer, thinking about the silver of his hair, the brown of his eyes, and the mere idea of what his cock might taste like. "i've wanted you to fuck me since i first met you."

he lets out a fuckin growl and presses his fingers into you. "such a cute little pussy, already dripping for me, huh?" he moans, and it's two digits pressing into you, but you've been working yourself up for a little while now and you're already swollen and wet and they slip right in. he finger fucks you for a moment before turning back to the laptop.

"which one's your favorite?" he nods at your screen, "which one do you watch and wish it was happening to you?"

you swallow and click back to another tab.

"letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole?", he snorts, "you really are a dirty girl, aren't you? get up off the bed." he commands.

you obey, standing up and kicking off the panties still around your ankles.

"and take that top off," he commands, and you do, pulling your top up over your tits and melting at the sound of his groan at seeing you bare for him.

he sits down on the bed with his legs spread, jeans still on. "you come sit here by daddy's lap," he says, and you do, sitting in between his thighs, inching back ever so slightly until you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants.

he runs his fingertips down your body, down your breasts and torso, dipping into your bellybutton, before drawing little circles on your hips.

'hit play," he says, and you grab the laptop next to you and resume the video.

he copies the video, rubbing one hand along your pussy and the other holding your thighs open.

"that's it," he coaxes, "keep those legs open for me, yeah?"

you're about to agree, when he starts stroking little circles around your already stimulated clit and the ability to speak leaves you. all you can do is focus on trying to keep your legs open, but your thighs are already almost quivering and he only chuckles.

"barely even touched you and you're already stupid."

you tried to nod and let out a sad whimper, tipping your head back and resting on his shoulder. he keeps his thumb pressed on your clit while he pumps his middle and index fingers in and out of you. it's so wonderfully, deliciously wrong. it feels addictive.

"you're doing so good, sweetheart, fucking on daddy's fingers like that," he praises, and it sends another spark of electricity building in your centre. encouraged, you start rocking your hips towards him, meeting each thrust of his fingers. "ready for another one?" he asks, and you nod vigorously.

he takes a moment to hold open your pussy and lean over you to look at it, stroking his fingertips along the outer lips, gathering some of your arousal, and prodding back your hood to get a little direct contact with your clit that leaves you writhing and gasping. he's smirking again, and presses a third finger into you. he curls them upwards, fucking the digits into you so nicely, and you enjoy the sensation as your arousal builds and builds and builds and-- as you come, you white out for just a moment, and as you come back into reality you can hear him speaking to you, "oh you're clenching so tight on my fingers, messy girl, look how you're dripping so nice down my fuckin' wrist. you're a nasty little slut, just like your momma huh? but i know you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, ain't ya?"

you continue to grind on his hand as his fingers stay buried in you, as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. only when you still does joel pull his fingers out of you.

as if hypnotised, he examines the arousal coating them. then, quick as anything, he pops his fingers in his mouth and sucks off your slick, immediately looking sheepish as though this was the only line he'd just crossed.

as quickly as he had become shy, he switched back to overt confidence. "y'just taste so good, sweetheart," he says, and then starts stroking your pussy again. "you're gonna let me have a proper taste, aren't you honey?"

you nod helplessly. it's so fucking good, it's too fucking good.

he scoots out from behind you and you buckle a little, toppling back onto the space he left. he's in front of you now and presses your thighs apart again, dropping to his knees on front of the bed's edge. he runs his tongue up your inner thigh, chuckling at your whimpers as he bites and nips at the sensitive skin. he takes a tentative lick, drawing his tongue towards your clit, circling it gently, and then dipping back before pulling off you for a moment.

"y'taste so fucking nice," he breathes, and his exhale on your slick pussy is exquisite. "i could just drink you up."

he presses the hood of your clit back once more, leaving his thumb there, applying perfect pressure as he flicks his tongue directly on that bundle of nerve endings and you feel like you're on fire.

"fuck, joel, yes-" you cry out, but he pulls back and shushes you.

"shhh," he says, "you don't call me joel right now, baby."

"i don't-?" you say, taken aback by the sudden lack of contact. then it clicks. "daddy-"

he smirks, "that's a good girl, sweetheart. wasn't too hard, now, was it?"

"no, daddy," you agree, and he's already diving back in, pressing his tongue into you in long strokes, letting you grind against his nose, his lips, the scratch of his cheeks, every movement he's making is so fucking perfect.

as he devours you, he presses his fingers into you again, and then you can't help yourself. you rut up on him, totally unable to practice anything resembling self restraint. in between strokes of his tongue, he pulls back and tells you, "i'm gonna need at least one more from you, baby, before you even get to think about sitting on this cock."

you let out a crazed whine, feeling joel's chuckle as he dives back in, eating your pussy like he was made to do only that.

he continues to build you up and up and without warning, you reach your peak again and come all over his face, your wet pussy drenching him and he closes his eyes and eats you through it like a man starved.

"fuck, baby," he says, "you taste so damn good, i could do that all day long."

you're splayed out, totally bare, the slick on your thighs cooling with the lack of contact. joel's looking you up and down, admiring your flushed body as he starts to undo his belt and drop his pants, your stomach flipping at the soft thunk of his belt hitting the floor.

you could feel, through his jeans, that his cock wasn't small, but you sure as fuck didn't anticipate just how thick and heavy it would hang between his wonderfully muscled thighs.

"you'd better get over here and fuck me, old man," you tease, and he snorts, before pulling you towards him by your ankles and landing a smack on your bare pussy.

"watch your manners, girl," he sneers.

"fuck!" you cry as you ride out the sensation, and he moves to slap you again, but your thighs are so slick his hand slips when he makes contact and accidentally presses you just right on your overstimulated clit, and to the surprise of both of you, you come again instantly.

he watches you, wide eyed, as you scream and your pussy clenches around nothing.

"you're just too easy, sweetheart," he laughs, "can't believe that little boyfriend of yours was such a bad lay when you're so goddamn easy. barely have to touch you and you're coming again and again for me."

"he'd just put it in, give it a couple thrusts, groan, and roll over," you snorted, loving the way joel's jaw clenches at your words, "besides, i prefer an older man."

"that's a damn shame, honey," he growls, "but i'm sure we can get ya taken care of."

you both realise at the same time that the video is still playing, as some particularly loud moans come through the speaker. you look over, and you swear you can see joel's eyes dilate as he watches.

that's a good girl, the man in the video croons, taking all of daddy's dick. wanna breed you full of me, fill you full of daddy's cum, you'd like that, huh?

you swallow and look back at joel. he looks ravenous.

"you love watching such dirty shit, don't you, baby?" joel asks, and starts teasingly rubbing your swollen clit again with his forefinger.

"yes daddy, please-" you agree, trying to chase the sensation, "please, i need your cock daddy, fill me up just like that-"

he lines himself up, notching the head of his thick cock at your entrance, and you're practically vibrating with need. it's not a want, it really is a need, if you don't have his cock right now you're probably gonna die and you need it you need it you need it so fucking badly

he laughs, and you realise you said all of that aloud, but you don't even have the capacity to feel truly shameful right now, you just need to feel him.

"c'mon, jo- daddy," you whine, "gotta feel you-"

"uh-uh, sweet thing," he chides, "i think you need to beg for it. you've got no manners, and knowing it's your momma who raised you it's pretty clear why, but you need to learn how to be a good girl. daddy's gonna teach you how to behave right here and now. got it?"

you let out a sharp exhale. "yes daddy."

"now beg."

two words shouldn't have such an ability to wreck you, but they do, and before you know it, you're rubbing your drooling pussy up against his cock head, rutting against him, begging and pleading-

"please, daddy, please fuck this wet pussy, you know how wrecked you've made me, turned me on so good, made me drip for you, made me come again and again on your fingers, i just wanna make you feel good, wanna take that cock, take everything you have to give, fuck me hard and fast and please, daddy, please--"

he cups your chin for just a moment, stroking a thumb along your jawline.

"that's better," he soothes, "what a good girl," and then he's slamming into you.

good fucking god he's huge, and you can swear you can feel every ridge, every vein, the swell of his shaft, the notch of his head, he's stretching you out deliciously.

you tilt your head back, leaving your throat bare, and let out a rough plea of, "choke me, daddy," and he doesn't need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around your neck and putting pressure in exactly the right spot. you can already feel the haziness building, and his thrusts keep coming fast and deep and you can feel the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

"jesus christ, girl," he whines, and his thrusts start to falter a little, "you're gonna be the death of me. letting daddy use this nice little pussy just so he can feel good-"

his words begin to tip you over, and you know what you want-

"come inside me, daddy," you choke through the pressure around your throat, "fill me up, make yourself feel good, give it all to me-"

that does him in, and he lets out a strangled moan, coming inside you right as you come one last time, walls clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.

he releases your throat, and you both lay there for a minute, both totally fucked out.

after a minute, joel gingerly pulls out of you and lets out a weary groan.

"gonna be the death of me, woman," he snorts, and walks to your bathroom to clean himself up. he comes back a minute later with a cloth. you're expecting him to wipe you up, but first, he takes a moment to examine the cum that's dripping out of you.

"look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he smiles, presses his cum back into you, and then wipes down your slick thighs with the cloth.

"shit, joel-" you say, "who'd have thought you had that in you, old man?"

he rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, and then you sit together for a minute in comfortable silence. joel stands up after a while and grabs his coffee mug. takes a sip that you know must be cold by now, but he seems unbothered.

before he can leave, you stop him. "so-" you ask, "is this a one time thing, or?"

he shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "no reason i need to let your momma know what i know yet. and i reckon there's a lot more fun we can have before that happens."

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your shoulders relax.

"good." you say, and joel smiles.

"good," he repeats. "now, i know i've worked up quite an appetite and i'm guessing you might have, too. you pick the takeout, i'll go pick it up."

"thanks, joel." you smile, and you're already thinking of the next time as you scroll takeout options on your phone.

that's it. you're fucking addicted, and goddamn you can't wait for your next hit.

[deebris]

The Misteryous Visitor 6

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: Being alone with Damian after so many years didn't lead to the ideal conversation you two should have had, but every little word seemed to have helped you two get closer at least a little bit. However, the chaotic turbulence of the night returned when your mother decided to leave.

Warnings: Family discussion; mention of kidnapping; maternal possessiveness;

Word count: 4k

Note: I wanted to post this and part 7 together, because they are the last two, but it didn't turn out as planned. I hope you like it.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Damian walked to the end of the hallway and turned right, heading toward the living room. His only goal at the moment was to find you and try to prepare you for the catastrophic revelation he knew would come at some point. He was already tired of seeing you so unaware of everything; you weren’t an idiot and didn’t deserve to be treated like one.

But it seemed he didn’t have to try too hard because as soon as he turned the corner and walked a few meters, he abruptly stopped upon seeing that you hadn’t disappeared. In fact, you were there, sitting on the floor next to an old portrait of Martha, your grandmother, curled up as if just waiting for someone to come and get you. Someone who wasn’t your brother, apparently.

“There you are.” He took a few steps back and made no effort to crouch to your level; instead, he stood staring at you with a reproachful look that made you pull your legs even tighter to your chest. “Get up, quickly. The floor is for rats.”

He was trying to ignore the tension, but you were giving him the silent treatment, which made him uncomfortable, though he would never admit it to himself. You had done this to him many times before, but it was always over silly reasons, so he never minded.

You also could never hold a grudge for long, and when you were younger, within an hour, you would have forgotten any disagreement between the two of you and would then come to annoy him again. But now you were older, it wasn’t a tantrum anymore, and the reason was much more complex than any other. You weren’t ignoring him because you were simply irritated, and he feared it was different now.

Damian couldn’t ignore the irritation he felt seeing how ashamed of yourself you seemed since he first saw you. He hated that trait of your personality, always very aware of everything and everyone around you, though it was contradictory to your incredible ability to do unthinkable nonsense.

From where you both were, he still had a view of the bedroom door. The boy couldn’t help but glance over there, curious about what kind of discussion your parents were having. At the same time, he was contemplating various ways to say something or maybe try to fix the awkwardness between you two now, but your guilty voice caught him off guard:

“I didn’t mean to cause harm.” You sounded hoarse, and you two stared at each other, and unlike his sharp eyes, yours were wavering. He gave you a hard expression, but not because of the aversion you thought he had for you, but out of confusion.

It was a pity that Damian’s feelings weren’t easy to read, so you thought he was angry because that night you found out Bruce was someone very important to your brother now. “I didn’t mean to hurt Mr. Wayne. I really don’t know what I did to make him like this. I’m sorry.”

So you thought you had done something wrong to make your father that way, Damian concluded. He hadn’t reflected on how you might feel that way, and fighting against his own callous nature, he made an effort to relax his posture and crouched down in front of you. Damian didn’t dare sit the same way you were, balancing on his toes and leaning his torso forward.

“It wasn’t anything you did.” You’re not sure, but you risk saying this was the first time you heard your brother so soft in your entire life. Damian had always been very loud and was almost always yelling or offending someone, but now, combined with the gravity his voice had gained with puberty, it was tender.

He was going to say something else, but suddenly a strange noise sounded. It was muffled, but it seemed like something had fallen, and you both could feel the ground vibrate. It came from the bedroom, which made you become alert. You started to get up, worried, but your brother’s firm hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“It must have been nothing. Don’t worry about them.” The tenderness had been replaced by harshness, but it wasn’t directed at you.

Sliding your back against the wall again, you rested your chin on your knees while admiring your own shoes, and just like always, you couldn’t maintain your silent treatment with Damian for long:

“I think I bothered Mr. Wayne by coming here. Mom will be mad at me for this later, I know she will.” You were obviously nervous, seeking refuge in Damian as you always did when you had to face her. Your mother didn’t have a good relationship with Batman, and now having to deal with you for disturbing his evening would make her furious. The little relief you felt earlier had vanished, suspecting she had only been affectionate before not to show Bruce.

“Mom is mad all the time.” He tried to calm you down. It would be unbelievable for someone who knows Talia only through her assassin image to hear such a thing. She was a cold and calculating woman, but you both knew when she was upset. She didn’t express it in a conventional way, and Damian had already gotten used to it. Your mother’s mood didn’t concern him much, but it was still scary for you.

“You were mad…” Your statement made him sigh because it was true. A few minutes ago, he had reacted that way, but there was context he couldn’t immediately explain to you. “Maybe I can apologize to him? If he forgives me, I promise I won’t do it again, and then mom-”

“Y/n.” Your brother cut off your frantic speech sharply; you were almost hyperventilating. “No one is mad at you.” He said it as a statement, leaving no room for you to contest him.

“He was calm.” you started to ramble, picking at the fabric of your clothes with your nail. “He read something he took out of his pocket and started feeling sick, I was trying to help…”

Damian frowned. He had seen Dick give a small piece of paper to his father downstairs. That idiot wouldn’t have been stupid enough to write on it that you were his daughter, right? What a wonderful way to tell something like that.

“Idiot.” Your brother muttered aloud without meaning to, feeling immense anger at the thought that Dick had done that. And only after he blurted out the word did he realize you were still beside him, listening. “Not you.” He tried to explain hastily, still with a furious expression on his face.

It was strange for him to talk to you that way. He had called you an idiot many times during childhood, and you used to call each other much worse things, as siblings do. But your relationship now was delicate, like a strand of cotton candy, since that intimacy you once had was lost.

“By the way, Bruce is just stressed about Strange.” Damian analyzed your reaction at the mention of the name. To you, Strange was just another enemy of Batman, never suspecting that the man who appeared at your house years ago could somehow be him.

The League of Assassins had many enemies scattered across the globe; at that time, you thought it was just another one of them. You also never asked or wanted to talk about it, which was unusual for how chatty you could be sometimes. For you, Hugo Strange and the person who kidnapped you back then had no connection.

“There must have been something about our investigation there. I’m sure it was Dick who gave him that card. You didn’t do anything.” He said.

Your heart returned to its normal rhythm, but it grew heavy again as you understood the facts. Damian was blaming Dick for that thing Bruce was holding onto, but it was you who had given it to him in the first place. Bruce became distressed when you mentioned the gift and quickly pulled it out of his pocket. That must have been the object Strange gave you.

“Dami.” He heard the nickname leave your lips, and a flicker of hope hit him. There was still a certain closeness between you there. “I was the one who brought the card here; it’s not Dick’s fault. Strange gave it to me to give to Mr. Wayne.”

Damian abruptly stood up, returning to an upright posture. “Strange did what?” Neither Tim, Dick, nor Jason had mentioned this. They said they were telling the whole story, but none of them mentioned any kind of message. Was that why Tim had been acting so strange when he arrived? He remembers seeing him throw a box in the trash and getting all nervous when Damian got irritated and asked what it was. “Was it a small gift box, by any chance?”

“Yes, the same size as the card.” You made a square with your thumbs and index fingers, trying to show the shape of the object. “Just like this. But Mr. Wayne didn’t let me read it; I acted badly by trying to see what was in there too. I shouldn’t have been nosy.”

So Bruce didn’t let you know on purpose? Maybe he just didn’t want you to find out this way. He should have told you. Damian was about to open his lips to take the initiative, but the sound of someone approaching stopped him.

Alfred paused for a moment, finding it odd to see the two of you here. He had returned to make sure you were okay once more and then leave you alone until later in the day. “Master Damian,” He said the boy’s name as a form of acknowledgment, “I thought you were asleep.” The butler added, addressing both of you.

“Alfred!” You got up and walked over to him, who rested a hand on your head expectantly. He saw the way you looked hesitantly at your brother, seeking some kind of approval before returning your attention to him once more. “Something bad happened to Mr. Wayne; he wasn’t well.”

Alfred's eyes widened, looking at Damian for an explanation or just confirmation that it was true. He was obviously tense and speechless for a moment but quickly composed himself.

“What happened, dear?” He asked, and once again you sought your brother’s approval, who took the initiative to explain in your place.

“He…” Damian began, trying to find a way to say it. “Bruce discovered something about Strange.” He said with a suspicious tone and the butler quickly understood the underlying implications.

“Where is he?” Alfred asked, worried.

Damian wasn’t planning to answer, knowing Alfred’s aversion to Talia, but you jumped in: “He and my Mom are talking.”

The butler was obviously displeased and furrowed his brow. He had planned to tell Bruce privately about his supposed daughter, but apparently, things had moved ahead of him. But Alfred knew Bruce well and understood that despite his instability, he would handle things as rationally as possible. Or at least he hoped so.

It was unsettling how a simple night so suddenly turned into yet another Wayne family drama.

“Well,” he sighed, “It seems it’s too early for breakfast, but also too late to go back to sleep.” He gave your hair a gentle tousle with the hand that still rested there, and you appreciated it. Indeed, the sky was already beginning to lighten. “How about some tea to start the day, miss? Or maybe coffee?”

“That’s fine.” You said, accepting that he would guide you through the mansion once more, but stopped when you realized your brother wasn’t making an effort to follow. “Damian, aren’t you coming?”

Your hopeful tone made him huff and approach to follow you. “Let’s go then.” He joined you, heading downstairs.

Damian was deeply irritated by how easily you let your emotions come and go. To him, it was inconceivable that you weren’t resentful, even hating him, as he had presumed you would be just moments ago. The way you let your emotions dissipate so easily bothered him, and he couldn’t understand how you could forgive so simply.

This behavior had always been the target of Damian’s criticism, as he didn’t have the same ease with forgiveness. What ate him up inside, however, was the certainty that even if you found out everything he and Talia had done, you would still be able to forgive them.

Damian suspected that this readiness to forgive came from a lack of options. Throughout your life, you had only him and your mother, and breaking away from either of them would be devastating. Perhaps that was Talia’s greatest fear; even if she tried to convince herself that she kept you hidden for your own good, away from the League and Batman, Damian knew that deep down, she wanted to ensure a safe harbor, someone who would always be emotionally supportive.

Although you might appear to be an very naive girl, your morals were unwavering. And incredibly, Talia managed to keep you loyal to her. Both of them knew that you secretly hated criminals and dreamed of a perfect justice that would never exist, at least not in Gotham City.

Damian knew that his mother’s real fear was that you would find someone else beyond her, people with whom you could connect, not out of obligation or lack of other options, but because you genuinely wanted to. This emotional dependency, nurtured by Talia, made you more spoiled than Damian, who in turn always confronted Talia with stubbornness and resistance.

“Do you like any fruit?” Pennyworth asked you, who were with your arms crossed on the counter, while your brother sat at the end of the table, just keeping watch over your figure.

“All of them.” You replied, and Alfred laughed contentedly. It was nice to hear something like that, especially as he opened the kitchen cupboard and saw the colorful cereals inside, all from Tim’s never-ending stash of treats.

“Master Damian?” The butler asked the boy.

“No, thank you.” He declined with a grimace.

You watched with curiosity as Alfred grabbed a bunch of colorful fruits and began cutting them. There was some kind of dough resting in a container nearby, which you noticed when he moved a cloth to check, and it smelled so good. It was comforting to see him there in the kitchen, even doing something as simple as cutting fruits.

Talia was a very busy woman, and cooking definitely didn’t suit her elegant demeanor. Housework was not part of her routine, so you often ended up eating at expensive restaurants. That’s why every move Alfred made captured your attention, and he noticed.

“Do you want to help me, miss?” He asked, intrigued.

“Can I?” You asked back, already moving to stand next to him with excitement. The butler nodded and instructed you to wash your hands in the sink on the other side of the kitchen.

You were distractedly scrubbing soap on your hands and far enough not to hear Damian whisper: “Bruce isn’t going to let Mom take her home.”

Alfred looked up, not at all surprised by the news. “Does your sister know, Master Damian?” He kept his voice at the same low tone as the boy’s.

“No, Pennyworth. That’s why I’m telling you.” Damian checked to see if you were still far, seeing you drying your hands and hurrying: “When they both come out of that room and Mom leaves, she’s going to make a fuss.”

“What should I do?” You came back, interrupting their conversation and asking for instructions.

Alfred set you the task of removing the stems from the strawberries until a noise from upstairs alerted all three of you. It sounded like glass, and it didn’t take long to hear Talia’s voice calling for the butler, who moved to go to her.

“I’m leaving,” Talia said with a firmness that disguised well the inner turmoil she was facing behind her attitude.

You were stunned, and a rising panic took hold of you. Alfred hadn’t noticed you had followed him until you heard: “I’m going to get my shoes and coat.” You declared. Your mind was spinning with the idea that your mother was angry with you, seeing how she was acting.

Talia turned slightly to you, but the look she gave was impassive. “You’re not coming,” she said. The coldness in her voice wasn’t unfamiliar but struck deep in your chest. “You’re going to stay here with your brother.”

“But…” You tried to process what was happening, needing to look at Damian next to you for a moment until reality hit you back. “Why?” You asked with a trembling breath, already approaching her and grabbing your mother’s hand in desperation.

“For heaven’s sake, Y/n. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She rolled her eyes and looked at you with impatience. “You and Damian will get to spend time together again.”

“But what about you, Mom? Why can’t we all be together?” You clung to her hand even tighter, trying to keep her there forever, but all you received in return was the look she gave when you upset her.

“I’ll send your things with someone. Be obedient.” She said, but her real desire was for you to be rebellious, especially towards Bruce. Your mother crouched to your height and pinched your cheeks with her hands while whispering so the other two wouldn’t hear: “But remember, you’re mine daughter, understand? Your mother will always be here for you. I’ll get in touch.” She gave you a strong kiss, leaving a perfect lipstick mark, and grabbed the coat that was already in Alfred’s hands with haste.

“I want to go with you!” Talia felt your arms around her waist and sighed.

“You're old enough to be acting like this, Y/n. Let go.” She tried to wriggle free on her own, but your grip was so strong that her fingers barely moved. “Y/n, enough!” She shouted genuinely furious, and you jumped back in fear. The sight made her wilt, but she still suppressed it and opened the door.

You were in shock, never imagining that your actions could have led to this. It was as if she hated you for it, and you felt a pressure on your forehead, unsure if it was from the anger you felt at how your mother treated you or from the desperation.

“Don’t go after her,” Damian ordered, knowing you would do it anyway, which is why he held you in place.

You couldn’t accept it. The idea of being left behind, the feeling of being rejected by the only family you knew, was overwhelming. “Mom!” You shouted, struggling to free yourself from Damian’s grip in fury, the sadness totaly replaced by a burning rage. “Don’t leave! I’m sorry for disobeying! I didn’t mean to do anything wrong!” you screamed. “Why are you like this with me?!” You shouted louder, not caring about making a scene.

Talia’s feet were already buried in the snow, trying to hide the pain she felt, but your muffled voice didn’t help. The sound of the door closing was like a final blow, and her heart sank even further. She didn’t care whether Bruce was right or not; she hated him like hell now.

You were sobbing and gasping, the pain of rejection still present in your chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disobey. I didn’t want you to leave…” You murmured lower, feeling your throat ache.

As she took more steps towards her own car, her thoughts raced. She knew that sooner or later you would need to know the truth, and deep down, she wished the news had come from her.

She tried to keep her mind clear during the brief walk to the car, passing by a snow-covered tree where ravens had gathered to rest. She was so distracted for a few seconds that when she felt an arm pull her back, she instinctively threw the stranger away, who hit the trunk and caused the birds to start flying erratically while cawing discordantly.

“What the hell is this!” She shouted furiously, shocking the boy who immediately began to apologize while getting up, feeling pain.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Scare me?!” She was outraged by his assumption. As if she would be scared by a kid like him. “And which of Bruce’s little pests are you?”

“My name is Tim.” The boy assumed a serious tone now, abandoning the polite courtesy he had before.

“And are you going to stand there like an idiot, or are you going to tell me what you want?”

Despite her hurry, Tim stared at her and looked back, checking if there was anyone outside the mansion and taking a few seconds to do so. Talia’s arrogant look didn’t intimidate him, and he spoke firmly:

“A few years ago, in that alley…” The phrase made her eyes widen, but she still took a deep breath to compose herself. “It was you.”

Talia never thought she would have the opportunity to face that boy again after that day. When Strange fled, she followed him and caught up with him. She remembers how she grabbed the man by the collar when she didn’t see you there. After wringing the truth out of that pathetic man, Talia had to let him go as she rushed desperately to where you were, but not before leaving a beaten face as a gift. But that night, that boy... Tim, had heard your call for help.

“So, you were the Robin.” She let out a curious laugh, looking Tim up and down. “And so what if it was me?”

“You tricked me. Pretended to be a helpless person.” He frowned while narrowing his eyes at her. “I remember the little girl I saved; it was her.” Tim turned his face towards the mansion again, as if to point at you.

“You just had the luck of arriving before me. And what did you expect me to do? Tell you who I was?” She took her gloves out of her pocket and began putting them on. “Do you think you could have caught me, kid?” She laughed sarcastically this time, belittling him.

“You could have told me the truth. You had the opportunity to tell Bruce about Hugo Strange all this time. We could have protected her.” Tim’s eyes moved around, trying to process. “After I left there, Bruce and I continued on patrol and found him passed out. If we had known who he really was, he might be in jail now.”

“Spare me your laments, kid. She’s going to stay here, isn’t she? So what else do you want?” Talia said, and Tim wasn’t surprised by the information. He had already assessed the scene while waiting to approach her outside. He had jumped through the bedroom window, having not been able to sleep after recognizing your face.

Tim remained silent. It seemed that Talia had a very concrete idea about everything, and it made no sense to try to circle her with assumptions about how things could have been. He couldn’t help but feel foolish, realizing that you had been so close to him at some point, and he couldn’t do anything for Bruce since he didn’t know.

“Listen.” Talia’s surprisingly soft voice caught him off guard. “Thank you for helping, even though I didn’t exactly need it.” Despite trying to be understanding, she couldn’t help but emphasize. “She means everything to me, you understand? Put some sense into your father, or I’ll find a way to take her back, and I promise you’ll never see her again.”

Tim swallowed hard at the mention of Bruce but snorted indifferently soon after. “He’s not as bad as he seems.”

“I noticed.” She murmured with irony and turned to walk away, with Tim not interrupting her this time. The boy watched her go to the car, but suddenly she stopped at the gate. She ran her fingers over the electronic lock, and suddenly some loose wires became visible. Tim found it strange, and Talia looked at him with a smile, which even from a distance, he could see.

“I think you’re going to need someone to fix this.” She shouted for him to hear, and for a moment, Tim thought if she had done it, but only now did he wonder how you had gotten past the front gate. It seems that your innocent face hid some skills. “Don’t pamper her, and tell your father and Pennyworth not to let her eat too much sugar.” She let the wires go while grumbling, slamming the car door, and driving away.

Tag list:

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@m4chine-girl @kellyyn02 @urminebutidontwantyou

[atimeofyourlife]

A family Thanksgiving

This was supposed to be up yesterday, but it took on a mind of its own and instead of the few hundred words it was supposed to be, its nearly 3k. Happy belated Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! rated: t | wc: 2847 | cw: period typical homophobia, Steve's asshole parents

The offers from everyone to have him over for Thanksgiving had been great, any other year he would have loved such a choice, but for the first time in a long time, he was spending the day with family.

"But you hate your family." Dustin pointed out when Steve had told everyone about his holiday plans.

"No, I hate my parents. It's my grandma that asked me to go, and I want to see her and my cousins that I haven't seen in like five years. I'm driving myself to Chicago, so I won't be stuck in a car with my parents for hours on end." Steve explained.

"But you're working a late the day before, and I'm not going to cover you so you can drive up early" Robin replied.

"I'm planning on leaving by six on Thanksgiving morning. It's less than four hours to drive, so I'll be there before ten, well nine because of the timezone change. I took the late shift the day before so I had an excuse to drive myself, and my parents wouldn't have any reason to come by Hawkins before. And I drive home either the Friday or the Saturday, ready for our Sunday shift."

Come Thanksgiving day, Steve was somewhat regretting his decision. It had been nearly midnight before he'd gotten home, after a number of people came in just before closing insistent on needing a selection of movies ready for the next day. Then hadn't been happy when the movies they wanted weren't in stock, so they left the place a total mess, causing Steve to stay late to tidy up ready for the opener the next day. Then having to get up around five, so he could get ready and be on track to leave as planned. In an attempt to wake up, he was mostly surviving on a large cup of incredibly strong coffee. He was just counting down the minutes until he could get there.

When he walked in the door, he was immediately wrapped up in a hug from his grandma. "Stevie, it's so good to see you."

"It's great to see you too, Grandma." He returned the hug, melting into it a little. Exactly what he needed after the year it had been.

"Let me take a look at you." She stepped back slightly, giving him a once over. Her hand came up to trace the scar still on his neck from where he had been strangled by the bats and vines. "What happened here?"

"I. It's nothing. It looks a lot worse than it is." Steve replied, trying to get out of the awkwardness of the conversation.

"Oh, if you're sure. If you want to help with dinner, you can join us in the kitchen. But if you just want to rest, anyone who's watching football is in the living room, and the Macy's parade is on in the den."

"It's been a long drive, and I had a late finish last night, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a break. I might come out and help a bit later." He offered.

"Oh, honey. If you don't feel up to it, you don't need to help at all. Take it easy, and we'll call you once everything is ready." She kissed Steve on the cheek, before going back to the kitchen.

Steve made his way through the house, glancing into the living room as he passed. He could see his dad in one of the recliners, and decided against joining them. Wanting to delay the inevitable "you're a disappointment" lecture. He knew his mom would likely be in the kitchen, not actually helping, just drinking wine and gossiping. He moved on to the den, where most of his cousins were. He hovered in the doorway for a second, unsure what to say. So much had changed since the last time he had seen any of them.

"Wait, Stevie?" One of them, Lizzie, said as she looked up to see him.

"Uh, hey?" Steve replied, a little unsure, before he was being swamped in a group hug.

"Jesus Christ, when did this happen? Last time I saw you, you were like a little kid. Now you're a whole grown adult." Another, Mark, said.

After a long catch up, bringing Steve up to date on everyone else's lives, and him giving an abridged highlights of his last few years, they then got into more serious topics.

"Was everything okay after the earthquakes? I tried calling a few times, but I don't know if I had the wrong number because it never went through." Alice, the oldest of his cousins, asked.

"The phones were down across the whole town for a while after, then it was patchy for weeks after that. It was hard to get five or ten minutes without it dropping out. It took me like two weeks before I was able to get hold of mom and dad to let them know that the house was still standing, and that I was still alive." Steve explained.

"Wait, they weren't in Hawkins for the earthquakes?" Harry cut in.

"No, they've not been in Hawkins since February? Like over a month before it happened."

"Oh. They were telling us last night about how awful and hard it had been during the earthquakes, and how they were scared for their lives." Alice replied.

"That's such bullshit. They weren't in the country when it happened, they were in London. They didn't even know that it was Hawkins that was affected until I called them, because all they'd seen on the news was a freak earthquake hitting the Midwest. It hadn't even specified the state. And then they didn't care how I was, if I was hurt or anything, all they were interested in was if there was damage to the house, and how the earthquake could affect the resale value."

"Okay, I call dibs about bringing that up over dinner. I just want to see what shade of purple Uncle Dick can turn." Becca, the closest cousin to Steve in age, piped up. "But were you hurt?"

"Uh, minor injuries. Nothing serious." Steve lied, not wanting to worry anyone. "I was able to start volunteering within a couple of days. You know, helping out at the relief center, helping search for missing people. And when everything calmed down I was helping rebuild and stuff. Just trying to do my bit. But I'm fine now."

"That's good. But thinking of Uncle Dick turning purple, who gets to bring up Fuck Reagan?" Mark asked.

"Stevie's been through the most, I think he should get the chance." Alice replied.

"Uh, I think that would go down about as well as if I told him that my best friend is a dyke and I've spent most of my free time in the last six months sucking off the local drug dealer, who was accused of being a cult leader and murdering three people." Steve said quickly, unsure if he wanted anyone else to pick up what he'd said.

"Was that for drugs, or for fun, or what? Like a hook up?" Harry asked.

"He's my boyfriend. I mean, it helps that I get free weed out of him, but I'd do it anyway." Steve admitted.

"That is something you missed out of your round up. But I love that all of us are some variation of queer."

Dinner was...interesting, to say the least. After saying Grace, they went round the table to say what they were thankful for that year. Steve had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing as his parents waxed on and on about how they were thankful for their lives and being able to escape the earthquake unscathed. He couldn't keep from laughing when Becca spoke up against them.

"Really? Because Alice asked Steve how he found it after the earthquakes, and he said that he couldn't reach you for two weeks after it happened because the phones were down and you were in London. And you didn't even know that it had hit Hawkins until he called you."

"Steven, why are you telling lies about us?" His mother demanded.

"I wasn't? You weren't in Hawkins when the earthquake hit. You've not been there since February. When I was finally able to call you, you only cared about how the house was, not if I was hurt. And you were pissed that I hadn't called you sooner, despite the fact the phone lines were down for the whole town. I could have died or been injured in hospital, and you wouldn't have known."

"How dare-" His father started, only to be cut off by Steve's grandmother.

"Settle down. There's no need for arguing. I am inclined to believe Steve, because I do remember you telling me that you were going to be spending a few months in Europe at the start of this year."

Both of Steve's parents were visibly unhappy, but they didn't push it any further, allowing the rest of the family to talk about what they were thankful for.

Many small conversations broke out over the table, Steve loving the feeling of being surrounded by family for the first time in a long time. He got pulled into talking to different people, but he did his best to avoid his parents' eye. Not wanting to get trapped by them telling him all the ways he had bothered them since he'd last seen them. But he knew they were up to something, when his father got up before dessert was served.

"Before we have anything else, we do have a big announcement about the future of our family." He said, using the voice he always used when talking to the most important clients.

"You've sucked enough political dick to get what ever tax exemption you were after?" Lizzie asked, before anyone could take it too seriously.

Steve's dad just spluttered in anger as a call of "Elizabeth." Came from at least four different people around the table.

"Ignoring that horrible interruption. What I was going to tell everyone is about Steven's imminent engagement. He is going to be proposing to Melissa Downey, the daughter of my business partner, at Christmas, they've been seeing each other for nearly eighteen months now, and it is going to mean big things for our family."

Steve couldn't respond, processing what had just been said, as everyone started speaking, some offering congratulations, others in confusion.

"That's news to me." Steve said loudly, to get over everyone's voices, once he could form the words. "I'm not planning on proposing to anyone."

"Well, Arthur and I have been discussing it, and it is the only thing that makes sense now, the two of you have been together for long enough, the logical next step is engagement."

"I'm not dating Melissa. We went on one date over a year ago, just after I graduated. It was awful, all she was interested in was if I made enough money to bankroll her spending addiction. I made up a fake emergency to get out of it, and I would rather stick forks in my eyes than suffer through that again." Steve got to his feet, bracing his hands on the table. Knowing he'd been right not to be optimistic that the holiday could pass without incident.

"You will if you know what's good for you. If you don't, it could destroy our business. You wouldn't want to be the reason we go broke, would you? You could end up homeless. Where would you live?"

"First, I have plenty of friends who would be happy to take me in if I had nowhere else to go. It's something we talked about after the earthquake, because some people I know did have damage caused to their homes and I let them stay with me until they could move back in. Second, I don't really care about whether or not you go broke. You don't provide any money to me. You haven't since I started working at Scoops. I pay for all my food, gas, clothes. If you go broke, my financial position won't change at all. And third, I can't propose to her. I'm in a relationship, and we're both very happy."

"Is it that Buckley girl? Or did you somehow manage to convince that Wheeler girl that you're actually worth something? Because I can tell you now, you are going to break up with whatever little slut-"

"His name is Eddie." Steve shouted before he could think it through, and a silence fell across the room. "That's right. Your son is one of those awful queers that you keep campaigning against, to keep them illegal and get them locked up. And you know what? He's easily the best sex I've ever had. Especially when we get high first."

"Why you-" His father roared, his face turning a dark red in anger. "How dare you do this to us? After everything we have done for you. You'd better hope that those friends of yours would be willing to take you in, because you are not living under my roof any longer. You will have until the end of the weekend to collect your belongings, anything left will be burned."

"Except, it isn't your roof, is it Richard? If I remember correctly, I was the one who paid the mortgage. My name is the one on the deed to the property in Hawkins. I just allowed you to live there, rent-free might I add, because it made sense for you to live somewhere close to Indianapolis when your business was taking off. I had been planning to sell up. So I think maybe you should be the one to collect your belongings from that house, because I'm not sure if I want you living under my roof any longer. It sounds life you're almost never there, anyway." Steve's grandma replied.

"But, mother-" His father started.

"But nothing, Richard. I don't know where you learnt your hateful attitude, because I know I did not raise you to be the sort of man that would kick your own son out over something as minor as who he loves. I really thought you were a better man than that."

"It's disgusting." Steve's mother added. "So unnatural, and that disease."

"What is disgusting is your bigotry. I think I want you both out from under my roof, now. So, if you would both kindly leave. And I expect you to move your belongings from the house in Hawkins, as that is now Steve's house, not yours. And you better not touch anything that isn't yours, or cause any damage, because I will take legal advice." Steve's grandmother stood up, anger radiating from her tiny five foot frame. "And, unless you change and apologize for your outdated beliefs, you can forget any inheritance. I will not have any of my money going to support hatred."

"Mother,"

"Leave, Richard. Now. I'm not afraid to get the police involved here."

Steve's parents looked at him with their faces filled with utter disgust, before they turned and left. His grandmother escorting them off the property.

"Are you okay, Stevie?" His grandmother asked after the end of the meal.

"I. I think so. I think I need to make a couple of phone calls." He replied.

"Use any of the phones, dear. Maybe if you know someone who can keep an eye on the house."

"Yeah. I babysit for the chief of police sometimes, so I might call him. He'll make sure nothing happens."

"Good. And, if you're talking to that boy of yours, tell him that he's got to come up here for Christmas. I want to meet him, and make sure he's good enough for you."

"Grandma." Steve protested.

"I'm just saying." She replied before walking away.

Steve shut himself in one of the bedrooms, for a little privacy from the still crowded house while he made the calls. The call to Hopper was quick, just outlining what was going on, and Hopper agreed to keep a check on the house until Steve was back in Hawkins. Then it was the call to Eddie.

"Baby, I wasn't expecting you to call. How's your Thanksgiving?"

"Interesting. My parents decided to announce that I was going to propose to dad's business partner's daughter. They wouldn't accept that I wasn't interested in her so I accidentally came out."

"Shit, I hope that didn't go too bad?"

"Uh, it could have gone worse? Somehow me coming out got my parents removed from the will and kicked out of the house. Because my grandma wasn't happy with them being assholes about it."

"Oh, badass grandma. I kinda want to meet her now."

"I was hoping you would say something like that. Because she has told me that you have to come here for Christmas. She wants to make sure that you're good enough." Steve couldn't help smiling as he talked, somehow the day had gone so much better than he'd ever hoped.

[inmyheaddd]

xander hawthorne with an INFJ girlfriend

a/n: thankyou for the request!! can’t wait to do this for the other brothers, this was so funn wc: 1.5k masterlist

xander’s the talker, and you’re the listener. he loves teasing you so much, he thinks it’s hilarious, and adorable if he’s being honest. your reactions, the way you get so flustered with a twinge of pink in your cheeks —it makes him feel weak in the knees.

both of you are incredibly creative, so he’s always asking for your input on his projects and vice versa. your affection is undeniable, you can’t help showing how much you love him. when you love, you love hard. you’re head over heels for each other, always in that honeymoon phase.

on your first official date, you two went to get milkshakes and ice skated together. quiet, simple, but everything and more.

you two were playing the game of, “turning to look at each other, but turning away before the other person can meet your gaze” without even realizing.

for the first time in xanders life, he felt quiet.

he’d never liked someone as much he liked you, and his mind was filled with doubts and worries. worries that he’d mess this up somehow, that you’d suddenly get weirded out, every single wrong possibility played out on his mind.

you would be lying if you said you weren’t in a similar position, what if he thought you were uninteresting? too awkward? not enough to date, just friends?

both of your doubt filled minds were silenced 10 minutes into the date, when you found yourself talking about everything and nothing at the same time, and did more laughing than actual skating at the ice rink.

talking to him felt easy, like you’d known him your whole life. you didn’t have to worry if he thought your jokes were weird, or that the conversation was getting awkward.

for a minute though, those worries that he was bored went on full drive, because you realized you had been talking for the past 2 minutes, and the boy sitting in the booth across you hasn’t said anything in response.

you knew him before this date, and quiet wasn’t a word to describe xander in any universe.

“and um, yeah…” you trailed off. you had more to say, but that pit in your stomach told you to stop talking right this instant. you got comfortable way too fast. you’ve only been on this date for what, 30 minutes?

xander was still silent for a second or two, fueling your thought that he was completely uninterested.

“wait, why’d you stop?” he quickly shook his head, sitting up straight and furrowing his brows.

“oh, i just, i didn’t have much to say anyways.”

“are you kidding?” he laughed, like you’d said the funniest joke ever. “i was invested, im sorry if it didn’t seem like it. i’m uh..” he trailed off, suddenly sounding unsure of himself. “you’re just really gorgeous, it’s hard to stay on track sometimes.” if it was anyone else, he would’ve had that charming grin of his on, and possibly thrown a wink in there too.

but with you, he couldn’t help the slightly bashful, but giddy smile that overtook his features.

love had filled all 5 of his senses, and only left room for one other thing, you.

your cheeks instantly turned a shade of pink,“oh,” you couldn’t help the smile that found your face too, “thankyou,” your eyes held his, and soon enough you two were suddenly laughing, over nothing, over everything?

you weren’t sure, but there you were, laughing, not worried about how you sounded or looked, and the pit in your stomach had made way for butterflies instead.

when the date ended, he walked you all the way home.

it was late, and the chill of the night was getting to you no matter how hard you tried to hide it.

he noticed, and without hesitation, or even breaking off from the words he was saying, he took off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

you were caught off guard, and looked up to find xander looking at you already, so full of care, a way no one has ever looked at you before.

“better?” he finished his story now, and his only focus was you.

“oh, i was fine, you shoul-” you cut yourself off when xander raised his brows at you.

you could help but smile sheepishly, leaning closer to xander before speaking again, “better. thankyou,” your eyes met his, and there was a new spark in both of your eyes that wasn’t present when you spoke to anyone else.

you were always so used to spending time alone before xander, that was your normal. but now, being with xander recharges your batteries like nothing else. surprisingly, his presence can be so calming, and when you need to rant he’s such a good listener.

whenever you want to talk about drama in your life, or have a gossip session, you ask him to go into best friend mode. 

“friend zone? ouch.”

“xander.” 

he does it anyway, of course he does, closing his eyes and inhaling deep. he was always one for theatrics. 

he opened his eyes and spoke again in character, “oh my god. you need to tell me everything. literally right now. wait! let me get our sour patch kids, then start!” 

you try not to burden him with your emotions, but when it’s really bad, you can’t not tell him. he always knows when something is up, and asks what you need—whether it’s a distraction, advice, or just someone to talk to. he’s always there for you.

his attentiveness shocked you, to be honest, because you were so used to him being the talker, and making you laugh until your stomach hurt. 

he’s genuinely so empathetic and gives the best advice; he makes you feel heard like nobody else.

the second he sees a tear fall from your eyes, he fights the urge to hold you in his arms forever. seeing you anything but happy and in love breaks him.

the frown that finds his face, the way he wraps his arms around you, it makes you crumble in a second.

when xander opens up about his feelings, you’re the best listener.

he often thinks he’s lucky to have you because many people don’t take him seriously, or even listen to him.

it makes you so sad to see him hurting, so once he’s talked it through, you shower him with kisses.

he becomes a laughing mess, and so do you. but instead of pushing you away, he pulls you close and kisses you slowly, and passionately.

those are the kisses that make you fold, and he knows it.

he smiles into the kiss, and you can’t help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach.

xander is the epitome of unpredictability. one moment he’s kissing you, and the next he’s tickling you until you’re laughing with tears in your eyes. he does this mostly because he doesn’t like being vulnerable for too long at a time, disguising his hurt with jokes and laughter.

you get it, so you let him be. even though you wish he’d open up more, and you gently nudge him to talk about his feelings, you’d never force him.

you feel everything so deeply; it’s one of his favorite qualities about you.

with his hectic life, xander cherishes spending time with you and unwinding. your place that’s just so you, candles, dim lighting, — simply being in your presence, it’s perfect.

after a tough day, you suggest watching a movie on the couch, because he always ends up laying on your lap while you play with his hair.

halfway through, he falls asleep, and even the smallest pause in your touch wakes him. 

you shifted to grab your water from the table, and xander stirred awake. 

he groaned while he sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching his arms out. “oh xan, go back to sleep. we can turn off the movie.” you suggested, noticing how tired he looks.

he’s sitting there, staring at a spot on the wall, eyelids heavy.

“hmm?” he hums, turning to you slowly. “no, it’s fine. we can, uhm,” he gestures to the tv, “continue watching if you want.” his voice is so sleepy and gravelly—you could listen to him like this for hours.

“i’m honestly kind of tired. do you want to go to bed?” you ask softly. you’re not tired, but you know your boyfriend is exhausted.

“oh. yeah, bed. that sounds nice,” he nods languidly. “does he even know where he is right now?” you think to yourself.

you laugh at the thought and stand up, reaching out to him. “okay, get up. let’s go, you big baby.”

he takes a deep breath, then suddenly stands up and picks you up. you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist to not fall off as he starts walking upstairs.

“xander!” you manage to squeal through giggles, and he can’t help but feel like lightning had just zapped him awake at the sound of your laugh.

“what, we’re going to bed, right?” he replies, slipping back into his usual witty tone.

“yeah, but you were a literal zombie two seconds ago.”

“yeah?” he bites your neck softly, pausing his walk, “guess you’re one with me now.” you playfully hit his shoulder, and he raises an eyebrow at you, continuing his zombie talk. “you’d be an awful asset, though. you’d feel too bad to eat any brains. but, would i be able to leave you behind?” he pauses, pondering in fake thought.

“what, you’re going to put me down?” you ask jokingly, leaning back to look him in the eye.

“you know i’d never,” he quips with a wink. you roll your eyes jokingly, trying to mask your flush, and hide your face from his view.

he grins at your reaction and finally gets to the door, kicking it open.

when you go two to bed, he’s the cuddliest person on earth. he’s literally all over you. at first you weren’t used to it — you weren’t that big on physical touch. but that all completely flipped after being with xander for a month. 

xander is a tall guy, to say the least, so cuddling with him feels like the best personal blanket you could ask for.

when his brothers tease him about your relationship, he gets surprisingly defensive. (possibly physical when you’re not there).

it’s lowkey hot.

your real sense of humor blossomed super quick with xander in comparison to other people. you two never had that awkward phase, you clicked so fast.

you were definitely friends for a while before dating. (part time lover and a full time friend!!)

he always found you cute, but actually getting to know you was what sent him falling head first.

[aswefindourwayback]

I love you, I’m sorry

Authors note: this is my most vulnerable piece of writing that I’ve ever shared since it’s taken inspiration from some terrible moments in my life. So it’s not my best piece of writing. Feedback is always appreciated.

Word count: 2071

Content warning: mentions of poor mental health, angst

you’ve never been able to keep people in your life, no matter how hard you tried. you would always change parts of you to fit other people’s wants and needs but it was still never enough. it got so bad that you were having thoughts about ending it all, thinking it’d be easier for everyone around you. they wouldn’t have to deal with your bullshit anymore and they could finally breathe again. but you instead threw yourself into your work.

you were already good at your job, but you quickly became the best. your work became your life. you stopped seeing and talking to your friends because you got so caught up in your work.

after years of working your ass off, you found yourself as a profiler for the FBI. you were now a member of the BAU. it took some getting used to and learning how to socialize but you got the hang of it. you guys were cracking case after case. you got along with all your coworkers and you guys often had fun together. you really loved all the laughs and good times you had with them, even outside of office hours. like that one time Emily, jj, and Penelope invited you out to go shopping and get dinner. it was something you were terrified of doing, getting closer to people and getting out amid socializing again, but you did it and found that it wasn’t as bad as you’d made it out to be in your head.

but there was one who you really got along with. spence. when you guys first met, you were both a bit shy and timid. but with time, you two grew incredibly close, always going to each other for anything and everything. and over time you fell for him, without meaning to. you knew it would complicate not only work but your friendship with him. your friendship with him means the world to him and you don’t know what you’d do if you lost him, so you kept your feelings to yourself. until one day, you didn’t.

it had been a normal day when rossi had called you into his office to talk about some case details. after going over the details and correcting him a few times, he asked you something:

“so, when are you gonna tell him?”

“what? tell who what?” you asked, completely lost in the conversation.

“reid. when are you gonna tell him how you feel?”

“spencer? what do i feel for him?” you said trying to play stupid. but it was rossi, he could see straight through you.

“Dont play dumb, kid.”

You slouched your shoulders in defeat, “no, i’m not gonna tell him.”

“Why not?”

“there’s a millions reasons to stay quiet”

“but there’s a million reasons to tell him too. don’t be afraid y/n.”

“easy for you to say. you’re not the one confessing your feelings”

“but i’ve done it a million times, kid. trust me. what if something good comes from this?”

“what if i ruin the one good thing in my life?”

“you won’t”

“how do you know that?”

“i just do.”

“what if it’s not the right time? like we’ve got that new case coming up and spence has been through some awful shit recently.”

“there’s never a “right time”. you just gotta do it.”

“i never intended to fall for him.”

“feelings are something we can’t control.”

“fuck. i’m gonna do it.” you say walking out of rossi’s office. the last thing you hear is rossi calling out to you “good luck, kid! not that you need the luck.”

-=+=-

you waited until the work day was over cause you didn’t want to make it very awkward in case you were rejected, which would very likely happen according to your calculations (you tend to distort your brain and imagine that the worst will happen for any situation). the odds of you being rejected were quite high so, you were just taking safety precautions. and if he still ended up rejecting you, you had it all planned. you would transfer to another branch. it’s not the best plan but you never claimed to be the brightest.

most of the team had already left for the day, so it was just you and spence standing waiting for the elevator, just talking about the paperwork you guys had worked on today. the elevator dinged, indicating it had arrived and the doors opened.

as you two stepped in, you took in a deep breathe and faced spencer.

“hey” you’d said.

“hey” he said, smiling shyly.

“so i’m gonna tell you something and i need you to let me finish before you say anything.”

“alright, i’m listening.”

“spence, i really like you, i mean really like you, so go ahead and reject me. i'm a big girl, i can take it. also you don’t have to say anything now.” you said at lightning speed, squeezing your eyes shut, afraid to look at him.

“y/n?” he asked as you felt his finger lightly lift your chin up.

“open your eyes, y/n”

you did as he said.

“i have something to tell you too.” he admitted, dropping his hand from your chin and shoving them into his pockets. your eyebrows were scrunched up a bit, hopeful of what his response would be, “i’ve never felt a connection with anyone before like this. I know that’s not surprising considering my awkwardness around people and my need to always correct people when they’re wrong and the fact that I shove myself into my job so much but i’ve dreamt of kissing you and feeling like i was on cloud 9. i started to notice when morgan kept calling me out for always watching you. and then i kept having dreams about you. not like any weird or sexual dreams or anything. just dreams where we hung out. just being near you. but i definitely want to see how this goes.”

“oh thank fuck” you said letting out an exasperated breathe.

that had made you both laugh. you felt like so much weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

“so” spence has started, exaggerating the length of the word.

“so”

“do you wanna like, hang out now? we could go get a drink or something. or if you want to wait and stuff then we can do that.” he’d said, almost stumbling over his words.

“id love to get a drink, spence.” you smiled at him.

and he smiled back.

at the bar, you two mostly forgot about your drinks and basket of fries as you were so caught up in each others company. you spent the night talking and laughing. you laugh so much, you were sure you were going to have abs in the morning. you’d never felt so happy. he made you forget about all your worries. he was unbelievably amazing that it was hard for you to believe that he existed and that he liked you back.

you two stayed until the bar almost closed for the night. he walked you home and you two kept talking on the walk. once you two had reached your door, you stood in front of him, not wanting the night to end.

“thanks for the drinks. i had a great time.” you said to him

“thanks for joining me. i had a great time too. um, do you think we could keep this on the down low for now? i don’t want everyone breathing down our necks at work and stuff. and i just wanna enjoy us for a bit.”

“yeah, of course. i’ll see you at work tomorrow. goodnight, spence.” you said as you walked up to him and kissed him on the cheek, making both your cheeks turn bright red.

“goodnight, y/n”

-=+=-

the past few months have been amazing. you and spence have been doing amazing as a team, not just at work. so many nights were spent together, either in complete silence or going on stupid late night adventures aka going down to the gas station across the street from your apartment to get snacks. you were so grateful for him and you were head over heels for him. you never thought you could feel this way for someone. you guys had of course had some ups and downs, mostly due to you and your mental health but you always got through it together, and for that you were forever grateful. he was different to anyone you’d ever met. he actually wanted to learn about the things you struggle with and wanted to learn what were ways he could help you. and after a really bad episode, you helped you breathe and told you he’d stay with you no matter what battles you two would have to face, cause he knew in the end, you two would end up the winners. it was insane to think someone so amazing would be able to love the mess you are, but he somehow does.

until he started to distance himself. it started after a specific incident when you had said something that came off wrong when he’d already had a bad day. after that, you could see it in the way he would interact with you. his speech and body language had changed towards you. his messages became a lot drier, even if you were verbally talking, he’d seem so disinterested, it was disheartening. you wanted to fix things but you didn’t know how. so you decided to arrange a nice little date night for the both of you, so you could show him how much you loved him and to talk things out. you even wrote down a little letter to tell him how grateful you are for him.

when you entered the office to tell him about the plan, he was on the phone so you waited behind him, waiting for the call to end. you didn’t mean to but you eavesdropped a bit, he seemed like his old happy self when he was on the phone, and you overheard a name, “maeve”.

you decided to walk away cause the call seemed to be taking a while. you walked towards morgan’s desk, where he was sitting and talking to pen.

“hey, what’s going on with you?” morgan had asked as soon as you walked up.

“nothing much, just waiting for spence to finish his call so i can talk to him about something.”

“oh yeah, he’s been on his phone a lot lately.” morgan had said.

“really? do you know why?”

“there’s this girl named maeve that he’s been talking about nonstop. he seems really infatuated with her, it’s nice to see him this way.” pen had said.

it was at that moment that all those bad feelings came back. your heart felt as if it was being grabbed out of your chest, just to be bitten into and shredded to pieces.

“i gotta go.” was all you said before you walked away from morgan’s desk.

you walked over to your desk and grabbed your stuff before walking to rossi’s office door and telling him you were leaving early.

“you alright, kid?”

“yeah, i just forgot something.” you said as you spread the fakest smile on your face.

you walked out the office and looked back at spence, hoping he’d walk after you to check on you. but he was so caught up in his phone call that he didn’t notice you leave.

you walked out to your car trying to keep the tears at bay. you ripped up the letter you’d written for him.

was it all a lie?

did he really mean those things he said to you?

was he playing you the whole time?

or did he just change his mind?

you messed up again.

you made mistake after mistake and he finally got tired of you.

he was the best but you were the worst.

you’re wrong again, about being lovable, cause you’re not.

it’s the way life goes.

it’ll never end.

you felt like pink cherry blossom petals that were left on the ground. loved and cherished when in the trees, awed at when falling, then left discarded and forgotten on the ground once you were no longer attached to the thing that gave you life. always being stomped over and discarded. never to be seen or loved again. the way it’s always been and the way it’ll always be.

[roxannarambles]

I commissioned the wonderful @gotchibam to draw this piece and they just blew out outta the water, absolutely beautiful. There's not enough art of Nemona and especially not enough art of Nemona & Juliana, so I thought, why not? Not to mention I'm still salty about our Paldean friends being excluded from the DLC, so here's a little something to remedy that 💜🧡

In honor of the art being finished, I'll even post a Juliana/Nemona scene from my Teal Mask Rewrite fanfic that was mostly obscured due to Carmine and Kieran's hijinks. Because I did in fact have the whole conversation written, but I didn't put it all in since the 'ship really wasn't the main focus of the story. Scene behind a cut in case folks are not interested in 'ship stuff ^_^

They wandered the outskirts of the festival, the mood cozy and comfortable as they chatted under the light of the lanterns.

In the midst of their discussion, Juliana was saying,

"I dunno, I still think maybe I shouldn't have played Fezandipiti instead of Carmine."

"What? No, you did great, what d'you mean?"

"Well I just felt kinda bad, she seemed really deadset on it."

"Nahhh, she volunteered to be Munkidori! It's fine."

Juliana tossed the remains of her candy apple in a trashcan as they walked by. She sighed,

"I guess so. Though I got the feeling she only did that 'cause-- uh."

She hesitated, hoping Nemona wouldn't notice.

"Cause what?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"What?"

"It's silly, it's-- well. She made that weird comment, um. Thinking we were girlfriends?"

". . . oh."

There was an awkward pause as the two walked. After a few moments, Nemona asked,

"Does it bother you?"

Juliana asked cautiously,

"Does what bother me?"

"Just, um. People thinking . . . that. I mean, if it bothers you, we can tell them we aren't--"

"What, no, it doesn't bother me!"

"Oh, okay. Are you sure?"

Juliana laughed.

"Of course! Why would it? Like . . . somebody thinks I'm dating the coolest, most kickass, smartest girl in my school, oh nooooo, how awful, whatever shall I do?"

She'd held a dramatic hand to her forehead as she'd said it, and Nemona groaned,

"Unnngh, c'mon, Jules."

"What?"

"I really wanna know if it bothers you, I'm being serious--"

"I'm being serious too!!"

They slowed to a stop near some park benches. Nemona cast her a wary glance.

". . . you are?"

Emphatically, Juliana answered,

"Yeah, of course, I'm dead serious. You're the coolest, most kickass, smartest girl in my school."

"Nnngh, Jules!"

"What?? Nemona, I know you hate compliments but I am gonna keep saying it until you accept it's fact--"

Nemona buried her face in her hands, saying,

"Noooooo . . ."

Juliana drew closer and gently grabbed her hands, pulling them away from her face and holding them. Gazing deep into her eyes so she knew she was serious, Juliana told her,

"I mean it, Nemona. You're incredible. Every day, you inspire me. You attack life with everything you have. You love so deeply and you never let anyone stop you, no matter how often they've tried. You're sweet and you're brilliant and you're kind and you're literally the most amazing person I've ever met."

Blushing intensely, Nemona squeaked, "Oh . . ." Juliana let her hands go and cleared her throat. "S-so, uh, yeah, I mean . . . it doesn't bother me." "Okay. . . t-that's good. . ." "But, uh, hey, if it bothers you if people think we're girlfriends, I mean, that's fine--"

Nemona cut her off, voice incredulous; "--bother me? Of course not! How-- if-- if we were girlfriends I'd be the luckiest girl in the world!" Juliana blinked at her, startled. With dawning realization, she breathed, "Oh . . ." "H-hypothetically, I mean . . ."

Lips twisting into a wry smile, Juliana nodded, "Right, of course."

Her glance shifted away, and after an awkward pause, she ventured, "So, um . . . hypothetically, if we were girlfriends . . ."

Nemona answered quickly, "Yeah?"

Juliana's eyes returned to Nemona's. She inched closer to her, almost imperceptibly, and continued carefully, "Are you . . . the kinda girl who likes surprise kisses or likes to be asked, orrrrr . . ."

Nemona considered the question seriously before shrugging. "I mean, either's good, I guess it depends on the situation. . ."

“Okay. Got it.”

They gazed at each other in tense silence. The seconds stretched on and felt unbearably slow; one second, two, three . . .

Then Juliana took a breath and blurted,

"Could I kiss you?"

Nemona's eyes widened, almost comically large. She automatically wetted her lips and swallowed, her gaze flitting to Juliana's lips and then back again to her eyes. She stammered, ". . . u-um, h-hypothetically, o-or . . .?" Juliana laughed softly. "For real." After a lingering pause, Nemona nodded, a burgeoning smile threatening to overtake her. Juliana slowly leaned closer and lifted up a little on her toes; their eyes slipped shut as their lips met. It was very tentative at first, slow and careful and awkward, but it was also soft and warm and kind of wonderful.

Juliana felt Nemona's hand cradle her jaw as she pressed closer, deepening the kiss. Juliana could swear it felt like something bright and hot was thumping in her chest-- like hot coals being stoked to life.

"All right, EAT DIRT, DORKS!!"

She startled at a sudden shout and the force of something impacting with her back. A few seconds later, she realized it was a snowball.

[footballffbarbiex]

player: Rúben Dias words: 2.8k type: angst

Let's fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later

If she's got blue eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date her

You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor

You search in every model's bed for something greater

Everything you were learning about Rúben is completely against your will and though you’re trying to not let it get under your skin and bury deep into your muscles, you still feel any and all nuggets of information grating against your nerves. So it doesn’t surprise you when your best friend opens her mouth and says “he’s been spotted with another model.” but it does feel like salt is being rubbed onto those nerves too. 

“Of course he has,” it comes out a little more bitterly than you’d intended and so you swallow some wine instead to stop yourself from saying anything else that you might regret. 

“I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what she looks like.” she continues, observing you over the rim of her own glass before she takes a small drink herself. 

It’s started to become a running joke for the two of you. You weren’t good enough for Rúben but he was happy to date every woman that remotely resembles you after you. It was a kick in the teeth each time you were faced with another photo of him and his latest beau and a mere mention of someone new feels like a slap. 

“Kurt wants to know if you’ll come to dinner on Wednesday.” She changes the subject, knowing that this is a sore spot but it was better that she told you now than being sent it by someone else who believes they’re doing you a favour while not being considerate of your feelings at all. 

“No.” You say a little too quickly. 

Kurt was one of Rúben’s best friends and if he was hosting a dinner party, then your ex would be there too. You felt suffocated at the best of times merely seeing his name via google or instagram, let alone being made to share the same four walls and a table with the man. 

Ex feels too strongly of a word considering you’d barely got past the dating stage. Rúben refused to put a label on the two of you and while you weren’t usually one for wanting them, you did try to ask him where you stood in the situationship. Especially because you were catching feelings, fast and hard and the idea of him not wanting to commit to you pained you more than it scared you. Ultimately, Rúben ended the … situation due to ‘commitment issues’, but had no issues with finding the ability to do so with other people. 

“He was invited initially but according to their match fixtures, they have an away Champions League game.” She comments, drumming her fingers on the side of the glass in a beat that you almost recognise. 

“I applaud your extensive research before coming to me with Kurt’s invitation.” 

“I knew you’d back out almost immediately otherwise -”

“And I did.” 

She hums in agreement. 

“At least consider it? I’d love to see you there anyway.” 

_

You’ve checked and checked and checked again more times than you wanted to admit that Rúben absolutely was out of the country ready for the game tomorrow. With no updates regarding rotations or suspensions from previous games, you’d found it “safe” to leave the comfort of your home and make your way to Kurt’s. 

Having Rúben end the relationship had meant that he’d won the monopoly of the friends that you’d made being in his circle, and one of them that you had joint custody over was Kurt. Caring, funny and incredibly supportive, Kurt was everything in a person that you wish you’d found in a friend years previously. Nights at his were never boring and he was the one person you truly felt you could be around and trust not to bring up him in conversation. 

By the time he’d opened the front door, you could smell a light warming scent drifting from one of the hallway candles which was quickly swallowed up as you approached the kitchen. If you were peckish upon arrival, then as dinner was being plated up half an hour later, you were famished. Your bestie was still due to arrive thanks to being stuck in traffic both on the way home from work and also after leaving the house. Other mutual friends who you were familiar enough with to interact with but not enough to really talk to are here too. 

Bottles of wine and water are on the table along with small baskets of bread and butter which are snatched up by those sitting around you. Several people are still due to arrive, so the amount of empty spaces isn’t bothering you too much, though you do reserve the one next to you for her. 

You’re cutting open a bread roll after smushing the butter into a spreadable consistency when your phone beeps and a i’m 5 mins away x text comes through and not for the first time this evening, you sigh a sigh of relief. 

-

You’re in the middle of the main course and half a glass of wine down as your bestie is telling you the latest drama from her office when voices in the hallway gets your attention and the voice that once made your stomach flip is now the reason for it dropping. Your head snaps to the head of the table at the opposite end to you and your eyes meet Kurt’s as the voice continues to speak with someone else. 

What is he doing here? You mouth a little too aggressively as panic begins to swirl in your stomach. Her fingers touch your arm to try and silently calm you but the more you think about it, the more you feed the dread. 

He isn’t supposed to be, is mouthed aggressively back. At least he’s met your energy. 

“It’s good to see you again,” comes his voice as he finally steps into the room. “Sorry I’m late.” He says as he finally addresses the room. 

The empty space opposite and one seat over now feels as though it’s mocking you. Though it’s not dressed for someone to sit in, you feel as though you should have known this was coming. 

“I’ll get you a plate.” Kurt is on his feet faster than you’d have liked him to be but you understand he cannot treat Rúben with disrespect purely because of you nor would you want him to. He gives your shoulder a squeeze as he passes and it’s only in that moment where you feel just how tense your muscles are.

You can hear your breathing coming out in shaky exhales but rather than looking around the table to see what other dinner guests are thinking. You don’t want to look up at the man who you’d held out your heart to. Sure, you’ve seen Rúben around, but not in such an intimate capacity like this. You’ve never had to sit opposite him and felt as though you’ve had to exchange pleasantries. You could, of course, ask to switch seats but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to you. 

When you lift your cutlery to begin to eat again, you note that your hands are shaking. You’d rather take a drink but now he’s here, you want as much of a clear mind as you can possibly have. He clouds your judgement far more than any alcohol ever could and he’s stayed in your system longer than any drugs ever would. 

Plate to mouth. Mouth to plate. Plate to mouth. You continue until you can’t think anymore.You ignore the sound of a chair being moved and pushed back under, a plateful of food being put down and cutlery clinking together. Talk still flows around the table but it sounds as though you’re listening from under water. Even now with impaired sound, it’s clear it’s become very strained since he came in. 

Questions are aimed in his direction and though you try to close off your hearing, you can still hear his replies. If he’s as worried as you are about this meeting, he’s not showing it. 

“Do you want this?” You ask your friend, gesturing to the glass. 

“Don’t you want it? What’s wrong with it?” 

“No, I don’t want it. I want something else.”

“I’m going for one,” James, who sits on the other side of you, says quietly. “I can get one for you too?” 

“That’d be great.” You give a small nod and try to give a smile, though you realise in this moment it appears pained. 

James was a good man, and someone who you could depend on for a light but long chat. He played the small talk game and he played it well. It wasn’t ever anything much but he gave you good reprieve when you needed it.

It’s not until he’s left the table and in turn, the room, that you remember there’s spare glasses and pitches of water with ice. Not wanting to seem rude, you leave him to get your drink, and busy yourself in pouring a cold glass of water. He returns as you’re taking tentative sips. 

“Mmm,” you hum to him to acknowledge that you’ve seen him as he takes his place back at your side while you finish your sips and place the water back on the table and turn to get the drink that Jamie offers you and give a little sniff.

“You remembered.” Small movements swirl the liquid around, ensuring that it’s fully mixed but before you can place it on the table next to the water, you hear 

“Might have remembered her drink but you’ve given an extra ice cube.” Your hand freezes as you listen. 

“Sorry?” Jamie says. He’s not sorry, it’s more of a chance for Rúben to retract his sentence. 

“She prefers two ice cubes not three. You’ve watered down her drink.” 

The statement seems to hang in the air between the three of you and when you finally look up, Rúben is looking right at you. 

“Thanks Jamie,” your smile is still pained but you give it anyway before taking a quick drink, followed by a deeper one seconds later. “I need some air.” you say quietly to no-one and everyone all at the same time. 

Kurt doesn’t fight to keep you at the table and instead, you notice the apologetic expression on his face as you all but flee the room and don’t stop until you’re pulling open the door that leads to the garden and step out. You gulp in the air as you close your eyes and try to clear your head. 

Everything had been so good up until then. You’d managed to keep your head down and was fully prepared to not only be civil with him but so sickly sweet he’d need an emergency trip to the dentist. 

“Fuck him,” you hiss, letting out some of your frustration under your breath. “Fuck. Him.” You repeat and follow it with a long groan. 

“I deserve that.” He says it so quickly, you barely have time to register that he’s said it at all, never mind the fact that he’s snuck up on you. Your heart pounds against your chest with such force, you can’t believe that he’s unable to hear it himself. 

“You have some nerve coming out here to me.”

“With you.” he corrects. 

You almost scoff at him as you turn to look at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “To me.” you stand your ground. “You decided a long time ago that you’d never step out with me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“What was that back there, Rúben? Seriously. “You watered down her drink.” you impersonate him. “You have no right to correct people on my details when you had no intention of sticking around.”

“So I can’t help?”

“I didn’t need your help. It was a drink. One that he’s made many times before and I’ve never felt the need to correct him before.”

“I just thought if he was making you one, he should make it how you like it.”

“You saw it as an unnecessary dick measuring competition.” You stare him down until he finally looks away. He doesn’t deny it and you knew he wouldn’t. Knew he couldn’t. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here.” Rúben tries a different tactic. 

“That’s the only reason I’m here because I didn’t think you would be.”

“The highs and lows of football.” He clicks his tongue and points to his thigh. “Felt something in my hamstring. Coach didn’t want to risk it.”

“Shouldn’t you be explaining this to your girlfriend and not me?” You hate that it slips out before you can stop it but you register the look on his face anyway. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Maybe not yet anyway,” you mutter it under your breath and try to push past him but he blocks your way. 

“What does that mean?”

“You weren’t ready for a relationship with me but you’re dating the closest possible thing you could find to what you really wanted but were too scared to go for.” And there it is. Months and months of conversations you’ve had with yourself as you’ve lay in bed and gone over everything that happened between you when you’ve had one too many drinks. All the rational, and irrational thinking had led to this moment. Finally putting out your theories to the one person who would either debunk or confirm them. 

You watch as he swallows hard and looks away, focusing his attention on almost anything but you. “You still can’t admit that you wanted me more than you let on, can you?”

“What difference would it make to hear it after all this time?” There’s almost a sadness in Rúben’s voice as he realises that it’s now or never to finally get to the bottom of it all. 

“Because I know I’m right about us.”

“So it’s about winning then for you,” he doesn’t word it as a question, it feels more of an accusation.

“No. It’s about needing to hear for the first time that what we had was real after months and years of you pretending that it wasn’t.”

“I never pretended.” He tries to justify his actions. “I never said that it didn’t feel real. That it was real.”

“I deserve to know that the only reason why we couldn’t have it all was because you were scared.”

His chest rises and falls as he breathes deeply, the muscle in his cheek twitches as he tries to think about what he needs to say. 

“I need to know why they were good enough but I wasn’t. Why date women who look like they could be me if you didn’t want me?” Your voice cracks and you hate that your eyes well up, hot tears now pearling at your lash line, threatening to spill over. You could kick yourself for allowing your emotions to get the better of you. 

“You were always good enough. Always. You knew that I wasn’t capable of giving you what you needed at the start. But I wanted to. I could see the life we could have had and I got inside my own head that I couldn’t live up to the version of me that you wanted. That you needed and that you deserved.”

“I’d have taken any version of you Rúben.”

“I know. And I didn’t want you to have one that wasn’t worth it at the time.”

“You hurt me.”

Three words that he’d known all this time, that he’d told himself enough times that he thought if he ever heard it from her, he’d be desensitised to it. But right here and now, he’s not. Hearing it slices into him in a way he couldn’t have predicted. 

“I know.”

“I wish that I could get over you.” you say as the tear spills in a hot streak down your cheek and drips from your chin. Another follows and another until you’re forced to wipe them away. 

“And I’m selfish enough to not want you to.”

“You’re doing a great job in trying to get me to move on though. Tell me. Where is she? At home waiting for you? Or did she have prior arrangements so she couldn’t come with you tonight?” 

“She’s probably at home. Her home.” He clarifies. “Turns out the reality of me is different to the fantasy. You’ll know about that better than anyone.”

“The reality was my fantasy. The only time you ever let me down was when you left me.”

“And if I wanted a chance to make it up to you? Would you let me?”

“I don’t know if I can trust myself to let you back in.”

“I deserve that,” he gives as much of a strained smile that you’d given earlier this evening. 

“This has emotionally drained me. I can’t do this tonight. I can’t. ”

“Turning up wasn’t my greatest plan, I’ll admit.”

“No. It wasn’t. But Rúben? I’d give you baby steps to try. Just not tonight.” 

[unhappy-last-resort]

There's Barnyard Grass Growing in Your Garden

Warnings: yandere themes

A/N: ...

Not edited and the title is inspired by his valentines story.

You trusted him, that's why you didn't mind how physically close you were to each other. Why you didn't mind him partially laying on you, gently petting your cheek with the back of his finger.

You trusted him, so you didn't care that your pajamas were a little thin and that your door was locked. You weren't uncomfortable that you're alone together in the dead of night, conversations carried by little whispers and occasional giggles.

You trusted him, so you ignored the odd glint in his eye that would appear from time to time. You didn't find it strange that his attention was always solely on you when you're together, you thought it was sweet and endearing.

He's genuine, pure, sweet, and gentle. That's how you saw him, how you always saw him. You were determined to give your all to help him achieve his dreams, especially for all the ways he's been an incredible friend to you. Sometimes, you wonder if you really deserve to have someone like him as a friend. It made you wish he would lean on you more, but he would always brush you off with an awkward, yet gentle smile and softly spoken words of assurance that he's alright.

Since he wouldn't open up to you more yet, you opted instead to make sure time was always made available for him, no matter what. That's how you got here, laying on your bed with his wrist tracker that was disabled long ago sitting on your nightstand, partially caged in his arms as part of his torso rested on yours while making sure not to crush your delicate body.

His nose gently pressed into the skin of your neck, breathing you in as his arms wrapped around you tightly, like you might disappear if he doesn't hold you close. Lazily, you return the gesture, wrapping your arms around his body and pulling him into your embrace.

You two stayed like that for a while in silence, nothing but your breathing and his to fill the air around you.

"You don't know how much I missed you..." He muttered into your skin before placing a kiss on the side of your neck so light that you didn't seem to notice it at all.

"I missed your voice, your giggles, your expressions...the world feels a little more dull when you're not around." He whispers, pulling himself away from your neck so he could see your face more clearly. He would do anything for you, anything to keep you safe and happy. If he was saying this a few months ago, he might've been embarrassed. Too paranoid of rocking the boat and shattering his relationship with you, but now? He couldn't care less. He would stay by your side no matter what. Even if you push him away, it's okay, because he'll always look after you and he'll always be there to pick you up when you fall. He came to this conclusion after many nights and days going back and forth with himself if he's allowed to feel this way towards someone, if it's wrong to care about someone like this.

Your squirming brings him back to reality, a bashful smile on your lips. "Noan, it's embarrassing when you say things like that..." You mumble, fiddling with the collar of your pajama shirt as a distraction for yourself.

Cute. You were so cute sometimes, it made him want to hold you tightly and keep you somewhere safe. He won't let himself do that though, even though the world may not deserve you, you don't deserve to be deprived of it.

"It's the truth. You have a greater impact on others than you realize." He smiles softly and lightly pokes your nose with his finger, eliciting little bubbles of embarrassed giggles from you. Each one burning themselves into his M.I.N.D.

Sometimes, he wishes he was still human, but being a construct allowed him to be able to see things that he would've missed as a human, and now he can truly fight to protect what he loves even if he's not the best at it. Honestly, if it wasn't for you...he's not sure he could bear the scrutiny he's placed under at every waking moment.

He tries to be grateful, to be patient, he really does...but it's hard not to be bitter about it sometimes. If he was truly alone in this, he may not have given up, but he would certainly be more jaded. However, he's not alone anymore.

He has you. He has your voice in his heart and your warmth seeping into his skin. You're here, relaxed in his arms, talking freely and showing him things you never show anyone else, not even your own squad members sometimes. He's grateful for that, and he'll always cherish these moments.

Even though you are, admittedly, very naive. You don't seem to think about how your trust in him might backfire, about how he might be able to use what he knows about you to his advantage. He knows that if you were to find out how he feels about you, if you saw what the sketchbook you gave him has become, you would most likely run away. Perhaps even be afraid of him, the thought makes him want to shudder, but he suppresses it, not wanting to interrupt your rambling about some argument Asimov and Celica had about healthy caffeine intake.

He takes a breath and pushes his thoughts aside. Right now, the most important thing is enjoying you and your company. He'll make sure you don't find out anything about himself that might upset you.

As you recount recent events to him, you don't seem to notice his hold on you being a little tighter, or mind the borderline obsessive glint in his amber eyes as he rests his chin on your chest.

Right. He smiles. What you don't know won't hurt you.

[toni-peperoni]

I'm BACKKKK with more Kinktober!!

Kinktober Prompt Day 27: Biting

This one is for @ray935sworld !!

Posted here on ao3 or under the cut

Mild TW for Blood

This was not good. This was everything but good. Marc was sure he had fed enough the last time he went out with his brother to recharge, was what they called it.

How could he be running low already again. That dosage usually lasted him for a week. He needed to find Alex. He needed to get to their emergency rations. Otherwise this could go really bad.

Marc tried to rush his way through the paddock but all it really lead to, was a lot of unsecure steps and a few near falls. He was praying that no one was paying him attention out that late at night.

Especially not Bez. It was still so fresh, what had developed between them against all odds, over the course of the season, from when Bez first swallowed all his pride and came to him after another race to forget, asking him how he did it. How he made the GP23 work for him just like that.

Marc had been startled by the visitor to say the least, but Marco had looked so desperate for advice and there definitely had been tears in his eyes, Marc couldn't bring it over himself, to send him away.

Marco himself probably hadn't expected to be invited in, maybe it all had be an operation to get a new reason to not like Marc because 'he is performing better than me right now' sounded incredibly childish, or maybe he just wanted to pick a fight to have something else to concentrate on, but Marc would never know, because when he stepped aside Bez did eventually follow him in.

The conversation had been awkward at best, but Marc truely tried to explain how he did something and how the bike felt when he knew it was time for a certain move.

Bez tried to follow as best as he could, throwing in some of his own feelings when on the bike, where it blocked and what worked more or less. Marc didn't know why he was trying to help Bez so much, giving up information in the process that clearly put him ahead and Bez didn't know why he was pouring out his heart to Marc Marquez of all people. He could've asked Diggia just as well. He was making the bike work too after all.

But asking your teammate for advice? Yeah, no probably not.

The Italian went out of that talk more confused than before. Not on how the bike worked, he had a much clearer idea now. But why Marc had been so nice to him when he, well when he wasn't particularly known for saying nice things about Marc.

It was what first caused the change in their dynamic, because there certainly was one, Bez felt like he was drawn in by Marc, found that he wanted to be close to him, acknowledged the raw talent radiating off of Marc. Maybe if he just stayed close enough in his vicinity, some of it would drip onto him and he could absorb it through his skin.

They met again. And again. And again. And all of the sudden Bez found himself with a beer in his hand in Marc's motorhome laughing with him, as their legs pressed together.

They both noticed that their relationship had changed and Marc was tiptoeing around it, trying not to overstep. He liked Bez, liked how expressive he was, liked how he would go for a good sulk every now and then, but still let Marc make him laugh.

He couldn't remember how it happened in the end, but it didn't suprise him, when he suddenly had Bez lips on his own for the first time. He tasted sweet, so very alive. Marc knew he was playing a dangerous game. But his entire life was a dangerous game, choosing a safe option just wasn't like him.

He stumbled into his own motorhome. "Alex? Alex are you there?", he called out. Alex was at his' most of the time's anyways. Instead of Alex though, it was Bez sitting on his couch.

"Marc, are you okay?", he asked, looking concerned.

Shit. This was the last thing he wanted to happen. He knew he had to tell Bez eventually, but it was still so fresh. So early.

"Please go. I can't explain right now, you have to go."

"No, you look unwell. I'm not leaving you."

"Marco, I promise to tell you what's going on, but I need you to go right now. Please find Alex for me", Marc was almost begging. He could see how Bez was fighting with himself he really didn't want to leave, but Marc sounded like it was urgent. And he definitely wanted to help.

"Okay. Okay I'll get him for you. Just stay here."

Marc finally relaxed a bit, when Bez left the room, finally allowing himself to breathe again, but Bez sweet smell lingered. It was intoxicating. Marc needed to feed now or something bad could happen.

He sat down on the couch, immediately slumping back against it. He couldn't remember the last time he was that hungry.

Alex came barging through the door not five minutes later.

"What is it Marc, what's wrong?", he asked urgently, but as soon as he saw his brother he knew. "I'll get it for you, it's going to be alright, we have enough with us."

Bez was lingering in the door, leaning against the frame.

"Either come in, or stay outside, but close the door", Alex barked an order into Bez's direction, he glared at him for a second, but then stepped into the room.

The sweet smell was messing with his head, but he could see Alex already at the fridge opening the container they kept the blood reserves. It was just a soup can, but it flew under everyone's radar.

"Please look away Bez. I'll explain, but please, please."

Bez actually turned away without much of a fight, which Marc didn't expect, but he was very glad. Because he would have probably refused to drink until Bez did so. And Bez probably knew that he would have refused whatever.

"Here Marc, drink", Alex said, holding the reserve directly to his mouth. Marc immediately sank his teeth into it, piercing it in the process, to get every last drop. "That's it. Drink up."

Marc drank an entire one without stopping once and Alex already had a second one ready. Usually, he didn't need more than two a week, but it seemed like that even two wouldn't be enough right now. Only when the third one was empty Marc felt something close to sated.

Alex eyed him worriedly. This was definitely not normal. Marc swiped his hand over his mouth and licked of the rest of the blood from his skin.

"This isn't good", Marc said outloud with both of them were thinking. "I can't remember the last time I had to take that much in one go. Especially when I already had my week's share."

Alex nodded.

"But you feel fine?", Marc asked his brother. If he had a problem, it wasn't too far fetched, that Alex would too.

"No I'm fine. But you look like you are still hungry, maybe we should-"

"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on", Bez cut Alex off. The two definitely knew what had been going on and Marc looked a lot better now, but from what he was hearing? It couldn't just be, that Marc hadn't eaten enough, could it? What kind of a weekly share? That all sounded very sketchy.

The two brothers looked at him, as if they had forgotten that he was there in the first place. Alex's shoulders dropped. "I'll leave you two to talk, but we have to talk about this Marc."

Marc nodded heavily, as Alex left for his own motorhome, so basically just a door further. Bez was quite positive, that Alex could still hear everything that was going on from his side of the wall.

Marc beckoned Bez over, gesturing for him to sit on the couch with him. He had thought about how he should tell Bez this, had spent countless nights debating, especially those in which he was holding Bez, pretending to sleep himself.

"Are you okay now?", was the first thing Bez wanted to know.

"I'm better, but not okay", Marc answered honestly.

"What has just happened there?", was Bez's next question.

"I- you won't believe me", Marc blocked it first.

"Marc. You said you would tell me."

"Yes I did. And I want to tell you. I always wanted to tell you eventually, but not this early. It's complicated. I can't tell people, because it would endanger Alex and myself of course, you can't tell anyone, I need to be able to trust you on that."

"Marc you are worrying me."

"I just- you need to promise me, that even if you think I'm completely insane, you can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you."

"Of course you can trust me!"

"Promise me."

"I promise", Bez said what Marc so desperately needed to hear.

"Okay. But I want to tell you in one go. Please just let me finish."

Bez nodded and Marc began to talk.

"I'm a vampire. I need blood to survive. Not a lot and animal blood is more than enough, though not ideal. I can eat normal food too, but it doesn't help my survival. I barely ever sleep, I can, but I don't need to. And I had my ration for this week already, but something must be wrong, you saw the state of me. Alex and I have a safety stash wherever we go for emergencies and I just drank like half of it. That usually would last as for three weeks to a month. I know, this is a lot to take in, but you have to believe me this is the truth."

Bez just sat there for a moment, Marc wasn't able to read his face. Usually he always could. But right now? No clue. Eventually the Italian got up and faced away from him.

"You know Marc, I am actually worried about you. I was actually scared for you. The least you can do is tell me the truth."

Marc's face fell. Bez left, before Marc could stop him. Alex, who apparently had seen him leave came into his living room.

"He didn't believe you?", Alex asked, eyes full of pity.

Marc just shook his head and dropped back against the cushion. He put his hands in front of his face. He would cry, if he actually could, no, he was crying, there where just no tears in his eyes anymore. There hadn't been for years.

Alex just held him close.

"You are still hungry, aren't you?", Alex asked after a while. Marc just nodded.

"I haven't fed on a human for years", Marc whispered.

They were fine on just animal blood most of the time. But every now and than they needed human blood. They hadn't actually tested how long they could go without, they usually had at least one person around they could ask if they could feed on. But Marc, well he might have just found out how long they could go without it.

"Marc", Alex warned.

"I know. But I can't feed on anyone here."

"But Bez-", Alex began only to be quickly shut down.

"Bez was my best bet, but he doesn't even believe me. I'll just have to get through the weekend and when we get home, I'll find someone."

"We only have three reserves left. This could be dangerous."

"There is no other way."

Marc's face was set and Alex knew there was nothing he could do now.

"Will you stay with me tonight?", Marc asked his brother.

"Of course", Alex smiled at him.

________________

Marc was even worse the next day. Before Qualifying had even started he had downed the last three reserves and had just barely dragged himself through Q2, somehow still ending up with fifth.

His skin had a distinct gray tinge to it, when he was sat on the grid, getting ready for the sprint. He tried to get in the zone, concentrate, but all the sweet scents clouded his mind. Especially the one a row in front of him. He tried to stare ahead and not just at Bez.

He knew he looked incredibly unwell. He was incredibly unwell. But when the visor came down, that was the least of his cares. He just rode like he had done so many times before.

He ended the race in fourth, Alex coming fifth, who practically had to catch his brother the second he was back in the garage and more or less fell of his bike, into Alex's arms.

Alex dragged him back to his motorhome and dropped him on the bed.

"Marc you can't race like that tomorrow."

Marc knew it himself.

"And you need to feed. You can't go on like that."

A sharp knock at the door.

Alex looked in the direction, not sure if he should open it.

"It's Bez", Marc said, sounding as weak as he looked.

The smell seeped through the little cracks of the front door, through the living room to his bedroom door and into his senses. It was intoxicating.

"Let him in."

Shortly after, Bez was standing in his room.

"You weren't lying."

"I wasn't", Marc whispered, barely able to produce more than that.

"Why are you still miserable?"

"We think, that the reason why Marc can't sate, is because he hasn't been drinking human blood for too long", Alex just layed out the cards.

"Okay, I'm here now."

"No Bez, I don't want you just agreeing because I'm miserable right now. I don't want to use you."

"No need help. Let me help. Please Marc."

"I would hate myself, if you would regret it."

"I won't", Bez came close to touch Marc's cheek. "I want to help you, because I like you. More than like you. And you should know that."

He glared at Marc and Marc even managed to laugh a bit.

"Okay. But you should know the side effects", Marc said, as Alex slipped out of the room.

"What can happen?", Bez asked.

"Well you won't become a Vampire, which is good. But the bite will act like a kind of aphrodisiac."

"Well we should loose a few of those clothes then", Bez said, stripping himself out of his shirt and sweatpants. Alex had gotten him out of his leathers already and the under shirt and pants, wer worked off quickly too.

Bez was hovering over Marc now, one of his legs swung over his hip, looking at him intently. Time stopped for a moment, then Marc flipped him over.

"May I?", Marc asked, self-control slipping from him.

Bez looked him deep in the eyes.

"Go", he said.

Marc buried his face in Bez's neck. Then he sunk his teeth into the soft skin.

Immediately Bez's body tensed up and his breathing was going heavily. But it was pleasure coursing through his veins, not pain.

"Fuck that feels so good", Bez moaned, as Marc was still drinking in big gulps. Not nearly enough to hurt Bez, but enough to sate his thirst.

He was rubbing himself against Bez too, who reciprocated eagerly. Marc sneaked his hand into Bez's briefs, taking hold of his dick and working it up and down, making him moan and squirm.

The sweet taste of Bez's blood with the friction and his soft moans, Marc was incredibly close and Bez too, judging by the way that he was thrusting up into his hand.

His other hand went it Bez's hair and he held it tight. Bez's chest rose once again and he came all over Marc's hand, right when Marc also took his teeth out of Bez's neck and locked over the wound to close it up.

He rutted against Bez's leg once, twice more and then came into his boxershorts. They were breathing next to eachother, Marc held Bez close and they just tried to catch their breathes.

The colour had returned to his skin and Bez was smiling blissfully.

"That was the shortest and best sex of my life", Bez whispered, half laughing. "Can't believe he haven't done this the first times."

Marc just laughed and pressed his face back into Bez neck.

"Thank you", Marc murmured.

"Always."

Bez pressed a kiss to his lips.

"So everything's good between us?", Marc asked cautiously.

"Yes", Bez agreed and gave Marc another kiss. "But now I need a nap."

"Sleep", Marc smiled, carding his fingers through Bez's hair.

And there they layed, cuddled up together, Marc finally sated and closer to Bez, than he was before.

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Made it to chapter 16 today which means Feyre and I have both had our first impressions of Rhysand's Inner Circle and ohhhhhhh boy

Its hard to pinpoint why exactly, but theres something so discomforting about watching them interact. I think the main thing is that for all their "casual-ness", theres still clearly a rigid hierarchy between them and they all seem to 'know their place' so to speak, its not at all like Lucien and Tamlin's relationship in the first book which genuinely felt like a friendship that was unburdened by their status or positions. Like, theres this one moment where Mor and Amren are like kinda bickering with each other i guess, and Feyre remarks that Mor is probably super powerful if she dares talk back against Amren (in an incredibly minor matter Im pretty sure but I already forgor ngl) and because this is the book where Feyre's perspective starts being Objectively Correct all the time, I guess that's true, I guess the only reason someone would dare voice their opinion on something to this friend group is if they were physically more powerful because otherwise you just level a fucking mountain during an argument

Anyway, Im gonna switch topics for a short moment but I promise this diversion is relavant to the point above. So, sometimes when I go into the anti-tags on here looking for criticisms or complaints of the books, I instead find anti-ship posts that are mainly just about trash-talking some ship, mostly ones relating to that whole Elucien/Elriel/Gwynriel shipwar, which I already have thoughts on but I'll save those for later. In any case, one day I stumbled upon this pretty long anti-elriel post about how the gifts Elain gives Azriel on winter solstice arent actually cute and it describes how she gave him like, herbs that help with headaches "because his friends are always giving him headaches" apparently. And then that post went on a whole rant about how insensitive that was of her and that she doesnt actually understand Azriel's dynamic with his close friends, but honestly, judging from this chapter Elain was absolutely spot on

And I usually wouldn't say this because yknow, its only one chapter and we're probably gonna get the nuances of their relationship later, but this is a book written by Sarah J Maas, her characters and their relationships are rarely particularly deep and, more importantly, her writing is incredibly unsubtle. If Azriel was in any way fond of his friends shenaningans I wouldve noticed it, because Feyre wouldve noticed it like 15 times during that whole dinner. But she didnt.

Its especially bad for Cassian and Azriel because it feels like Cassian thinks they have this great rapport but Azriel just genuinely kinda dislikes him. Not to mention that whole fucking mess with Azriel and Mor and Cassian and Mor having sex so she wouldnt get married off or whatever, good god how is every conversation between them not insanely awkward

Even beyond that, idk man, theyre all just so insufferable. I dont understand how Amren, ancient eldritch being trapped in a fae body that she is, can stand to be around them, I wouldve left them 5 centuries ago if I was her. I guess the explanation is that she finds the government position interesting but its like, youre SECOND to the most boring and annoying man on the planet only kinda ruling over a court that you dont even actually care about from everything Ive heard. Again, if I was in Amren's position I would not be hanging out in an APARTMENT in a boring ass city at the behest of a quartett of stupid bozos, I wouldve weaseled my way into being the personal advisor of Beron or some shit so I could watch the Vanserra Family Drama unfold live

There was one good thing about this discomforting dinner though, and that was how inexplicably gay Cassian was for Rhysand. He was really out there, looking at him with such love, calling him pretty twice in like two minutes being all "I knew I wanted a piece of him the moment I first saw him, the high lord's pretty son" like okay. I know what you are

[the-plantlikefishie-dafi-writes]

Agreement with the Sun

An Arataki Itto x Reader Fanfic

Tags: Arataki Itto x Ruler!Reader, Fake Marriage, Made-up means of governance for Inazuma haha, SLOW BURN (At least I think it is <3), Reader is reserved but a little arrogant, Workaholic Reader, Himbo! Arataki Itto, Sunshine Arataki Itto, Eventual Fluff

Author's Note: Wow I actually gained the courage and posted this fic! Constructive criticism is much welcomed! Take note, I got too silly...

First Sunrise, First Moonfall - A Child of Ame-no-Uzume

🎶 O, Sunkissed Moon, beloved by the Sun, Its rays kiss your face, love questioned by none 🎶

He didn’t know what he expected. But, definitely not this.

If only he could get into a spar right now. Bust some bad guys with a jab, left-right, and a 'kapow!' that would be sure to wake him! But instead, the insanely boring stacks and stacks of papers made his eyes heavy even though he usually slept with his eyes open. Like, dude, what were these even for? It was a waste of good trees if you ask Itto.

If only he could catch some awesome beetles, he would have some fun with a bunch of kids by now and finally break his ridiculous losing streak which has been a major headache! However, two out of three cups of tea got cold from the incredibly long conversation by nerds who he would rather not upset unless he wanted to live in a nightmare.

Without having anything fun to do, he just spaced out. After all, Itto was surrounded by walls made of the finest purple silk and materials. Its design resembled the gentle waves of the sea and the eloquent color of electro. He eyed the gifts of foreign jade trinkets, placed proudly on quality wooden tables and the illuminating lanterns crested with Inazuma’s proud element. The scent of fine sakura perfume wafted through the air in the dim yet well lit room in Tenshukaku.

Man. He shouldn’t be spacing out like this! He is Arataki Itto for archon’s sake! The Arataki "Above All, Bold-Blooded" Itto! He can do whatever he wants… So why couldn’t he do all those he would rather do?

Well, it was because of you, The reigning ruler of Inazuma. He didn’t realize there was another ruler other than the Raiden Shogun. He didn’t really care who is in charge of Inazuma as long as he can live life as much as he wants, but maybe, you were also the reason why the humans became friendly to the onis and the rest of the yokai. He huffed, only a little as to not interrupt the conversation you and Shinobu had.

If only he wasn’t so awesomely charming and handsome that night!

You were just looking around that night. You were tiny, small compared to him, maybe, a little shy. With your cloaked figure, were you possibly a traveler?

"Hey, man! You look like you ain't around here!" he chirped as he tapped your shoulder and his hand returned to his hips. "Enjoying the festival so far?"

"Oh. I actually live in Inazuma. I just don't come out often." "An introvert! Hey, gotta respect that. You know, a lot of cool people I know are introverts like the renowned golden-haired traveler! Savior of Dragons, Conqueror of the Abyss, Teyvat's hero! Too bad, they ain't here though. Miss 'em." You nodded at his words as you dropped your hood down. And here it is, Itto always knew he was talented since birth at making friends! You finally lowered your guard, and you even gave him a smile.

…Hm? Pretty?

"Haha. I did meet them. I'm glad they reunited." Oh, so you knew the Traveler’s goals too? You’d have to get pretty close to them to do that. Just who are you, small mysterious person? "I haven't enjoyed the festival yet. I don't really know what to do," you added with fingertips pressed together and an awkward smile.

A smile curled up and a loud boisterous voice emerged from Itto, "Hahaha! Well, you are in luck, my compadre! I, Arataki the "Festival King of Fun and Revelry" Itto is here to serve you! When there's fun to be had, I am most undoubtedly there!" Oh, he could feel that adrenaline pumping into his veins! He has to get the gang into this! He looked over at his growing gang and shouted, "Hey, guys! Let's show 'em how to rock a real Festival!"

That was how the great Arataki Itto managed to get the seemingly-uptight you to a night of holler and laughs. What surprised him the whole night was not during the height of the clinking drinks and shared enthusiasm, but during the distant singing of an old man and the diminishing hype of the night. Shinobu had just pointed out your status as ruler, as the esteemed sun of Inazuma.

No way. No way.

You know how to party, he'll give you that. But, he can't believe he has been picking up, carrying you, oni-handling the second-in-command from the Raiden Shogun like a bunch of boxes… For the whole night no less!

He was also crazy loud, and he hoped he didn't say a joke that was offensive that could ruin his 150-day streak without getting into jail.

He began to shove the feeling of cold sweat in the backroom of his mind, and Itto smirked as his pointer and thumb framed the chin of his gorgeous face, "Heh, looks like Arataki the "Festival king of Fun and Revelry" served a hotshot tonight! Was my service just as awesome as you expected, esteemed sun?"

You let out a laugh. "Mister Arataki, you are adorable."

Shinobu and Itto flinched and widened their eyes. A hoot of laughter was so unusual to see from someone who is deemed stoic by the public. And, a compliment? Surely, Itto has greatly achieved many things tonight compared to everyone else in Inazuma. Of course, it is expected of the oni king! And, "Mister Arataki"? Prissy and pretty name to add to the long list of titles and all, but where did the sudden politeness come from? He just remembered that you were calling him "Itto" as the whole gang hollered while you were trying to scoop some goldfish.

"Of course, I had fun," you grinned.

Phew. Good thing you aren't nitpicky. He bowed exaggeratedly as he chuckled, "I am glad to be of service."

Itto knew you could see how his head was getting bigger than his body now. You smiled a little wider, "I enjoyed it so much that…"

Huh. There's more? Well, he was ready for you to compliment his entertaining charm.

"I wish to be your betrothed. Arataki Itto, will you marry me?" Itto witnessed you shine and sparkle to coax him to agree— you placed your hand on your chest as you knelt down on one knee, staring into his eyes with eager glee.

….HUH?

You met eyes with your day-dreaming future husband, and gave him a welcoming smile in the midst of an important discussion, cold tea, and stacked papers. It was a little forced, but the way he smiled back was so genuine and infectious, your true eloquent smile appeared. His infectious aura and presence was what made you enjoy that night and what made you choose him.

Good. He is the perfect candidate as a husband for you: an intimidating resting face everyone will cower in fear from, then the friendliest smile that knows no inequality, inclusive and outgoing personality, the leader of a gang that has been giving itself a good name in recent years, and no true influence to the government of Inazuma.

You were glad to have met him that night.

It was your time to rest in the stuffy yet plain room. Tired eyes fluttered to the beautiful sights of the Festival. Dancing sakura petals of the wind waltz with the lights of the city. The hustle and bustle sang and harmonized with the music of Inazuma. Culture of games, masks and silk infested the streets to satisfy the people and Yokai. Commissioner Kamisato was right; the Shirasagi Himegimi outdid herself this time. The night was too alluring to stay in your room as warmth started to bubble in your heart. Maybe, you won’t spend your night in your stuffy room today.

Indeed, those elders would criticize and lecture you, but at the very best, those grimy sons or selfish daughters of theirs will have no room in your work and your thoughts. At the very least, in your marriage with Itto, he wouldn’t do much for Inazuma other than some minor inconveniences. He would do his own things, and you would do yours. He wouldn’t have any problems with money, shelter, and clothing, and you wouldn’t have any problems with annoying suitors. Now, you have a reason to turn them down.

You also gave your husband his freedom to love whoever he wants.

In the lengthy contract that cited rules and regulations and written agreements between the Arataki Gang Leader and the Esteemed Sun of Inazuma, there, you have written: “The Esteemed Sun of Inazuma, □⁠□⁠□□, agrees for the Arataki Gang Leader, Arataki Itto, to have a romantic or sexual relationship outside of the contractual marriage between the two parties.”

“Hm, are you sure you want this part to be in the contract? Won’t it cause some kind of scandal? It might not jeopardize you, esteemed sun. But the Arataki gang will face grave repercussions." Kuki Shinobu voiced out.

How lucky was Arataki Itto to have a jack of all trades like her? You got a little envious, but the feeling hid behind the curtain. "Dear Kuki, is someone with the likes of Itto even interested in romance?" you whispered.

She actually pondered on your joke, but you pressed on with a grin. "Either way, please notify me if he plans to have a lover. I will make a scandal wherein I have another lover as well as make the narrative sympathize with Itto. Now, they won't be so rude if they think with their little heads. To kill the attention on me, I will announce something beneficial to Inazuma’s-"

"Wait," Itto tapped in, long fingers playing a rhythm to the dark wood. "You're going to sacrifice your reputation? For me to have my own lover?" He raised his brow.

"Of course? My "love life" won't affect my service.”

“Aren’t you technically my lover according to this contract?”

“Well, do you love me?”

“Uh…”

“Think of this as a marriage for convenience, Itto,” you gently smiled, mostly because he was cute, but slightly you placed him at a corner. “We don’t have to love each other.”

"Heh! Well, think again, sunshine!" He crossed his arms and widely opened his mouth. "I'm not gonna be some kind of cheating jerk and fail this marriage! I ain't gonna fall in love with anyone or ain't gonna make out with anyone else but my future wife! I am gonna be an awesome and committed husband as granny oni taught!"

Honestly, you stifle a laugh. "Is that so? It isn’t really cheating since we don’t have feelings for each other, and this relationship is obviously one of empty commitment. You will get bore-"

Before you could add anything, you could feel Itto's hand grab yours as he brought it to his lips. "Then, I'll use my good ol' Arataki "The Handsome Oni" Itto charm to make you fall for me" he winked.

You pondered. Does he read those cheesy light novels?

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

Thank you and God bless!

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

I was reading the first part of "The Blanched Soldier" and helllllllp! I'm really tired and I doubt I can make a coherent analysis out of my thoughts - BUT it is so tempting to try and see if the story can be read as a Holmes/Watson analogy!

Holmes dropping not only the "The good Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can recall in our association" bomb which could be read as an ironic/humorous remark, but also the devastatingly plain and honest "I was alone" right afterwards.

Holmes then telling the story of a client moving heaven and earth looking for his soldier friend who disappeared, constantly stressing how close their friendship was.

ALSO during the flashback scene the client is, in the logic of the narrative, literally in the position of the detective, trying to find out what happened to his friend!

His search being hindered by an oppressive and stern father figure - something something about authority and control and societal norms (and perhaps Watson's marriage as a necessity because two bachelors living together for so long might be a bit suspicious in the eyes of the public)

"'You must put it down, sir, to my real love for your son.’" Whaaaaaat?? Putting aside the question whether or not one wants to read this story in a romantic way, this is a story about friendship and devotion and loss and oh my god just kill me, just give Holmes his friend back please

Client then has to have dinner with the parents which must be incredibly awkward, but instead of trying to make conversation he claims that he "was so bored by the whole proceeding that I made an excuse as soon as I decently could and retired to my bedroom". Bored?? Now I'm reading too much into it, but this also reminds me of Holmes who is NOT a fan of smalltalk and would rather sneak off to his bedroom to meditate over the clues than to make polite conversation with people he dislikes (although the mother seems to be okay)

On top of that a nice His Friendship and Courage Saved My Life *cough* Devil's Foot *cough* parallel: "There was no braver man in the regiment. He pulled me out once from under the rifles of the Boers, or maybe I should not be here." (Yes. Now I'm hopelessly overthinkink and overanalysing.)

Aaaand as a bonus, Holmes in the beginning practically admits that it was necessary for Watson to write his stories in a way Holmes often criticised, AND behind the whole charade of "I don't have a companion because I LIKE him" he literally says that "Watson has some remarkable characteristics of his own to which in his modesty he has given small attention amid his exaggerated estimates of my own performances", indicating that Watson downplayed his own role in the cases he wrote up.

I hope Watson returns soon, because his absence CLEARLY puts Holmes into an overly dramatic mood.

(I'm joking about this, but I actually feel very sorry for him. I can feel the "I was alone" keenly, because haven't we all been the best friend who was abandoned for a romantic partner at some point? Please tell me it wasn't just me. )

[my-current-obsession]

I ask this as a Clerith fan myself - why are so many people up in arms about Tifa "lying" in her GS date? I'm not even sure what people are referring to when they say that. If it's when she denied talking to Aerith about Zack... Aerith literally lied about the EXACT same thing to Cloud and no one calls her out about it.

Obviously the context of Cloud bringing up the issue in the first place is quite different with both girls - with Aerith he's wanting to know where they stand and if he can pursue her or if he should give up. While with Tifa he's still focused on Aerith instead of the girl he's with, which makes this date and his extreme (frankly OOC) actions come across as a rebound because he feels like he has no chance with the girl he's really interested in. But that said, I interpret the lie itself as the same from both girls - they know Cloud's memory is unreliable and digging too much into the topic of Zack might make him MORE unstable, so they dodge the issue. Also maybe a secondary reason of lying to keep the mood light/romantic, instead of bogging it down with something heavy.

If it's in response to what she says after Cloud wonders about Aerith still having feelings for Zack... that's up to interpretation, I guess. PERSONALLY, I would take her responding "It's more complicated than that" as dodging the question at worst or even a soft, implied disagreement with Cloud at best. It would be incredibly easy and simple to just say, "Yes, she still likes him." That's NOT what Tifa says, even though to an extent it might be true (Aerith makes it obvious that she's fallen for Cloud by the end of the game, but she MIGHT still love Zack too. You can love more than one person at a time. It's just unclear if that's the case for her or not).

We know from the scene on the ship heading towards Costa del Sol that Tifa and Aerith wanted to talk about love and boys, but it was postponed. But it's also clear they're spending a LOT of time together trying to hash out what's going on with Cloud and generally opening up to each other as friends off-screen, so I think it's safe to say they DID have this conversation eventually. I believe by the chapter 12 date, both girls are fully aware that they EACH like Cloud romantically, but for the most part they care enough about each other as friends to put aside rivalry/jealousy.

Tifa's response of "It's more complicated than that" just feels like the honest truth to me. Does Aerith still have feelings for Zack? Yeah, maybe. But she also undeniably has feelings for Cloud. And Tifa, on a date with the man she ALSO loves, doesn't want to lie but also can't bring herself to say that whole truth (also it's not really her truth to say? Confessing for someone else is messed up in its own right NGL) when doing so would almost certainly kill her own chances with Cloud.

I honestly feel sorry for her in her date. I read the situation as her trying to be as honest as she can without quite literally triggering Cloud or spilling Aerith's secrets, while Cloud, AT BEST is acting out a role with her and being the suave hero who he thinks she wants (which is arguably true, but let's not get into whether Tifa wants the "real" Cloud here) instead of his true awkward self (thus no actual progress in their relationship is made, since everything was just an act on his part). And AT WORST is outright using her as a rebound.

Seriously, what are you all mad at HER for?

[days-until-burnout]

Heyyy I just wanted to say how much I love your writing it’s so well done 😄

Can I request smalletho gardening together?

YES. YES YOU CAN REQUEST SMALLETHO GARDENING TOGETHER. IN FACT, YOU (AND ANYONE ELSE) CAN REQUEST ANYTHING (*with caveats). CONGRATULATIONS FIRST ASK I SHALL CELEBRATE BY BENDING THE RULES BECAUSE I MADE THEM WOO _____

📧 Day 10 (b) -

Characters - Etho/Joel Words - 1,040 Time - 45 mins Content - Farm AU | fluff | suggestive comments

Etho was getting real tired of potatoes. Really, really tired of potatoes. Planting potatoes to be precise. Gardening, he didn’t mind at all, repetitive work was always nice to tune out of the world and be by himself. The sun on his head and the ache of muscles was nice seven out of ten times, but this was getting excessive. Extremely excessive. 

The previous day, he’d spent it digging holes, and now, he’d spent his morning and continued to spend his day shoving the potatoes into the holes. Covering them up, and the thought of having to make the path again to water them made him glare at the dirt. Stupid potatoes. 

Why was he doing this anyways?

He shoved another potatoes into the soil and haphazardly covered it, moving to the next hole before looking up to stretch his back. Two rows in front, just a couple spaces ahead, was his answer. 

The farmer’s son. 

Right. 

Etho hadn’t really wanted the job, it was just to fill in time while he sorted out his new job. A friend had mentioned it, and said friend had more or less dropped him in front of the farmer’s house, and the rest was history (not really, it was a very awkward conversation Etho would very much like to forget and never think about again). And now he was there, breaking his back planting stupid potatoes when he should be at home doing—honestly, he wasn’t sure what the alternative was, hooray for moving to the middle of nowhere because he got tired of the city.

But Joel was fine, he supposed. 

…

Well…

Fine as an excuse, not fine as in handsome—which he was, but that was besides the point. 

They didn’t talk much, even though they were around the same age, and everyone said they should have plenty in common to talk about. They didn’t. Barely. 

Joel was an extrovert who liked to drink himself stupid on weekends, loud and so eager to pick a fight at any moment’s notice. Loyal like a guard dog too. A hard worker, with impeccable work ethics. Incredibly smart though he rarely used his brain, preferring fun over practicality or safety. Joel was sweet too—devoting his time to help his parents, dropping social activities the second anyone needed him, always going above and beyond to help others. 

Joel laughed and enjoyed life proudly, and he loved twice as hard. 

“We should take a break,” Joel said, and Etho had to practically throw his body in the opposite direction to not be caught staring. He pretended to stretch, making a face when his joints did in fact creaked and whined. Well, that was bad, probably. 

“Already? Can’t stand a little heat?” 

Joel looked at him with an unreadable expression, and Etho’s eyes couldn’t help drifting to his lips. (Or his body, but that wasn’t as innocent, so that was getting shelved.)

“Whatever, old man. Dehydrate for all I care.”

Etho followed Joel regardless, trying to not stare at his back. Instead, he looked down, wincing and glaring at the little mounds, cursing the root vegetable. Because beefing with potatoes was much better than staring at his not-quite-crush, right. Right. He wondered if it was too late to move deep in the mountains, never to interact with another human being ever again. He’d learn all he needed to learn in time, but then he would never see Joel again, which was a definitive drawback to his near perfect plan. And Joel was too social to invite along.

Oh, great, now he was imaging living with Joel.

Near the house, Etho more or less became one with the ground, under the shade of an apple tree. Not that he was exhausted or anything… He was just appreciating nature, becoming one with it to admire it more. Yeah. Yeah. He managed to drag himself up, sitting up against the base of the tree, having a good view of the fields. 

Then he had a great view of a Joel. 

A very up close Joel. 

“If you are going to die, could you die elsewhere? Or at least wait until I dig up a hole? You’ll be more useful dead anyways.” 

“What a weird way to say you want to use my body.”

Joel seemed to freeze on the spot, only a fraction of a second before emptying a glass of water (Etho hadn’t even notice he was holding, because Joel’s pretty face was more important, of course) into his face. Ice rolled around as he sputtered, wiping down his face to see Joel looking down at him. Just out of reach, Joel escaped his grasp, and he didn’t feel like chasing him because really cared about his job and murdering his employer’s son probably wasn’t the best idea (no, Etho wasn’t tired, not at all). Step by step, further from his grasp. 

Oddly enough, the water did help cool him down, though he was probably looking to catch a cold later, but whatever. He pulled at his shirt, fanning himself a little before his eyes drifted as they always seemed to do. Caught by the only thing worthy of attention.

Joel was crouched in front of some plants he didn’t remember what of, shears in his hands, meticulously continuing the upkeep. It made sense, since his parents weren’t in town for at least two more weeks, which meant Etho was stuck with him alone for a while longer (willingly ignoring the other workers meant nothing, not a thing). And he worked hard, endlessly. Never complaining about it. And Etho just couldn’t forgot Joel’s face, the way it broke with smiles at productive harvests, at being able to go around and pick stuff for dinner. 

Two plates at the table. For a while longer. 

Maybe he should make his move or something. 

Instead, Etho watched him prune. Carefully, deep in concentration. Broken only by the arrival of the herding dog, nuzzling into the side of his face. And how could Etho do anything but stare dumbly when Joel smiled so bright, so happy, pressing his head against the dog’s? 

And how was Etho supposed to not die of a heart attack when Joel looked at him the same way shortly after?

_____

i probably shouldve saved the ask for tomorrow, but this blog is literally dedicated to making bad decisions. and since its the first ask, i shall bend the rules over and over again! also, yes, prompts to me are like suggestions. one day i will actually focus writing on the actual prompt, until they, i shall continue to be absolutely normal about writing

[a-killer-obsession]

Wavelengths [Killer x Reader, Heat x Reader]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 29 - Fears and Fetishes

Time to haze some newbies, and perhaps indulge in some other pleasures.

WC: ~5k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055

Dinner wasn't as awkward as you thought it would be, but it was certainly overwhelming. Everyone at the commander table wanted all the gossip on your pregnancy, and it was getting to be a bit much for your tired little brain. Thankfully Killer was able to at least turn the conversation at some point towards the plans for pranks, since Kid had decided to take his meal in his workshop instead. You had no doubt it was because he was angry at you and Killer, and since you both sat either side of him it would make for a more than tense dinner. Given his anger though, and since you'd already lost a day on your would be plans for the commotion, plans were changed to adapt. With Kid in such a bad mood, everyone wanted the hazing over with as soon as possible, before Kid could catch on and get even more pissed off. It probably would have been smart to give up on the plans all together, but none of you were prepared to let the newbies off the hook entirely. With that in mind, new plans were formed, starting with tonight.

Most of the plans involved your abilities, which conveniently the newbies didn't know the extent of. It was common knowledge among anyone who kept up with the news that you could create devastating shockwaves, and turn a man to goop, even the holes you’d made in the walls at the inn had made it to the news, but other than that your powers weren't common knowledge. It was perfect for this, thanks to practising daily you could use them from the other side of the ship and the newbies would never even suspect you. Why would they, if you were miles away minding your own business?

Minding your own business was the opposite of what you were doing right now, laying on your belly draped over Killer's legs, using the x-ray filter on your mask to spy on the rest of the crew while Killer read aloud to you. You were thankful your belly wasn't big enough to be uncomfortable to lay on yet, so you were trying to enjoy it while you could. With your enhanced vision you could see right through the ship, and all of the metal that threaded through it making up weapons and wires and other various nic nacs. Mostly what you were interested in right now were the skeletons, specifically those of your new female wards, though you were planning on hitting the regular henchie quarters too for good measure, so it didn't seem targeted. This was probably exceptionally creepy by most people's standards, but to be fair you could only see their skeletons. It wasn't your fault if said skeleton appeared to be washing a cucumber in the shower.

You had to stay up later than usual for this plan to work, but given you and Killer had taken a pre-dinner nap you were more than fine with that. As soon as it seemed like the women had settled into their curtained off end of the henchmen's quarters, you started a countdown. You couldn't wait too long, or they'd be deep asleep, but you needed to let them get comfortable first and let their guards down. When you felt enough time had passed, you sat up with a smirk, kneeling on the bed.

“Go time?” Killer asked, with a grin that matched your own.

“Go time,” you replied. Killer dragged his mask to his side, readying himself to put it on. He watched as you sat with your brows furrowed with focus, you could use your power from this far but it would take some serious concentration to pull it off.

Meanwhile in the henchmen's quarters, a strange wind-like sound began to howl, despite there being no draft. A tapping creeped along the wall, followed by what sounded like heavy footsteps. A few henchies stirred, the sounds pausing for a moment. They settled again as they resigned that there was nothing amiss, only for the sounds to restart. A few of the henchie skeletons sat up, including the tallest female, you guessed that must be Quincy. The footfalls continued, making their way closer to her bed, and you snickered as you watched her skeleton jump out of bed and climb into the bed next to hers, which seemed to be Dive's. Satisfied that you had their attention, and they were thoroughly spooked, you hit them with the cherry on top. It took all of your concentration, but you manipulated the light to make a glowing blue figure of a rotting sailor corpse appear in front of them. The screams were audible from Killer's room as the figure rushed at them before quickly evaporating, and you fell back against the mattress in a fit of giggles upon seeing at least five of the skeletons immediately fleeing from the room.

Killer chuckled and slid on his mask, holding his hand up for a high five, which you gladly returned, before putting on his best impression of a concerned, freshly woken first mate and heading out to ‘investigate the scream’. He returned ten minutes later, the smile on his face clear as he removed his mask and set it back down, kicking his shoes back off and climbing back into bed with you.

“Quincy pissed her pants,” Killer smirked.

“No fucking way,” you had to wipe the tears from your eyes with how hard you laughed, “what about the others?”

“Hip didn't seem phased, but you got Dive pretty good, and Bubblegum and the twins both fled the room too, though Bubblegum was the only one of them that saw the ghost, the twins mostly spooked on the scream. Which by the way was loud enough between the two girls and Bubblegum that it woke all of the henchies.”

“Brilliant, a good start,” you thrumbed your fingers together like you were a cartoon villain, already looking forward to the next phase of the plan. But first: some sleep.

The next day you were sure to wake at a reasonable hour, you needed to catch the others while they were getting ready in the morning. Still heavy with sleep, a scream rang out over the ship as a handful of henchmen were treated to blood instead of water for their morning shower. Of course it wasn't really blood, you just changed the colour of the water and affected the opacity a little. It wasn't easy given the running water but you only had to do it for a moment before most of the showering henchies came running out to the deck in their birthday suits. You felt a little bad for the experienced henchmen, but such were the casualties of war. You managed to catch the twins again, as well as Pomp and all three girls, though Hip hadn't even bothered to leave the bathroom, casually strolling out long after the others with a towel neatly wrapped around her. She was going to be tricky to break, for sure. The handful of naked henchies were met with wolf whistles from the commanders who were ‘conveniently’ out on deck, having known the plan, as well as the much amused officers who had no idea what happened but were laughing nonetheless.

Next came breakfast. Now that everyone was awake and in eyesight it would be easier to target just the newbies. Kid was still nowhere to be seen, but that was probably for the best. Once you were sure everyone was settled into breakfast, albeit many of them were already shaken, you executed your plan with a smug smile as you continued to eat, thankful that your back was to the bulk of the galley. Somewhere in the hall, Quincy let out a grand shriek as she looked down at her food, and it looked back up at her. The other newbies began to yelp, some of them gagging, others throwing their plate in a panic as eggs and sausages and bacon strips sprouted grotesque eyes and toothy smiles. Naturally, you turned to see what the ‘totally surprising’ commotion was, just in time to see Hip give a cold laugh and stab her breakfast right in the eye. You couldn't help but snort at that.

Killer, grinning wildly in amusement under his mask, stood and yelled at the newbies to get their shit together and clean their mess up, making threats about feeding them to the seakings if they wasted food again. He could barely contain his laughter as he sat back down, the occasional wheeze escaping his mask. It was a good thing he wore a mask because it was clear the man had a terrible poker face.

Over the course of the rest of the day, you got more personal with the pranks. Bubblegum suddenly found his meticulously styled zigzaggy hair to suddenly be floppy and straight, as you vibrated the hair gel to the point of destroying its structural integrity. Every time it happened he would huff, disappear to the bathroom, and reemerge with restyled hair, only for it to fall flat ten minutes later. He gave up after the fourth flattening.

For Pomp, you made his prized hat appear on Mosh's head, quickly starting an argument between the two of them. Heat made his way over to discipline them, as planned, and when Pomp accused Mosh of stealing his hat, Heat snatched the real hat from his head and waved it in front of him, making him feel slightly insane as he looked back at Mosh and saw the hat had never been on him. As he walked away indignantly you made sure it sounded like Pomp ripped an absolutely dastardly fart, which echoed over the whole deck, making everyone turn and stare at him. He quickly fled, his face bright red, as the whole crew erupted in laughter. You were sure Kid would have laughed too, if he had at any point come out of his workshop today.

Next you focused on the twins. This next part of the plan took a significant amount of effort, as you visually twitched their hairstyles. Of course Mosh was still massive, and Boogie still had terribly short legs, but the change was enough for people to forget who was who, given how fresh they were to the crew, and for people to start calling them by the wrong name. The real kicker is you made sure the change didn't affect either of them, so they couldn't understand why everyone was suddenly getting them mixed up.

Next came Dive, and you'd been looking forward to this one all day because it was a prank you used to pull all the time in the marines. When she wasn't paying attention, you turned her whole arm as green as her hair. She screamed when she noticed it, waggling her arm wildly like she could somehow shake the colour off. Much to your joy, and the joy of the other watching commanders, Quincy came running over to check what was wrong. As soon as she touched Dive to look at her hand, you made Quincy's arm green too. And so the great green-pocalypse began, as others tried to check on them and the green spread to more and more people, till finally the workshop door slammed open and Kid came stomping out.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THE RUCKUS?” he barked, and the rest of the crew froze. Before Kid got a chance to see, you made the green disappear. Quincy came running over to Kid, crying and holding out her arm.

“KIDDIE BABY!” she blubbered, “Dive gave me her infection and my arm is going green! Am I going to die? Is this some sort of sailor's disease?”

Kid grabbed her outstretched arm and turned it to and fro, frowning at the very normal arm. “What the fuck are you talking about woman?” He growled as he dropped the arm. She looked at it and blinked in confusion.

“I swear, it was g-”

“GET BACK TO WORK YOU LAZY CUNTS,” Kid barked, cutting her off, already bored and turning back to his workshop, “AND KEEP IT THE FUCK DOWN,” and with that his door slammed shut again.

You were more than surprised to see Kid slam the door in his new toy's face, and she seemed even more surprised, turning and blinking slowly, her arm still out in front of her. The rest of the crew who had been previously screaming all quietly disbursed, more than embarrassed. You were doing a terrible job at keeping your laughter at bay, doing your best impression of Killer as you both stood there silently laughing, the occasional wheeze escaping both of you.

Heat and Wire sauntered over to the two of you, muffling laughter of their own.

“You really used to do that to the marines?” Heat wheezed.

“All the fucking time,” you laughed, “idiots never even realised it was me, I'd purposely let them touch me and spread the green so I was just another unsuspecting victim, dumb cunts”

“I can't help but notice that the new blonde girl still isn't phased,” Wire noted. Sure enough, Hip was leaning against the railing, picking at her nails and looking utterly bored while the rest of the crew continued to examine themselves for traces of green.

“She wasn't phased by the ghosts or friendly food either,” you hummed, “tough nut to crack, that one”

“What about bugs? Snakes? Fire maybe?” Heat mused, “she's gotta be scared of something”

“I'll find it, whatever it is,” you replied with determination, “I think the rest of them have been thoroughly spooked, but I'm gonna bring out the ghosts again tonight for good measure. I'll swap my focus to blondie for now”

Killer slid up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, nugging his mask against your neck. “I'll give you a blondie to focus on,” he purred in your ear. Wire shook his head and immediately walked away, and Heat blushed, Killer was not known for public displays of affection. You wiggled your butt suggestively against Killer's front.

“What's wrong Heatie?” You brought up an arm to wrap around Killer's neck. If it wasn't for the mask you were sure he'd be marking up your neck by now, if the half-hard dick rubbing against your ass was anything to show for it. “Feelin’ shy? You weren't shy last time I gave you this kinda attention, or maybe you're jealous?”

Heat coughed and looked away, his cheeks blushing bright red. Killer huffed in amusement at his usually confident friend. Heat's eyes scanned you wearily, flicking to Killer and looking away quickly, worried he was about to get scolded. To your surprise though, Killer said nothing, instead you felt him harden against you. It was hard to tell what he was thinking as he eyed Heat curiously. With another amused huff he let go off his hold on you, keeping one hand on your waist as he started to lead you away. Heat kept his eyes on you as you walked away, looking almost longingly.

“Kil..” you mumbled under your breath, resisting his leading a little. Killer stopped and looked at you, you couldn't see it but there was a playful smirk under his mask. He looked at Heat, still planted in place, then back at you, looking up at him with wide eyes, barely visible through the purple sheen of your visor, your thighs rubbing together in obvious need.

“Feeling greedy today are we?” He purred. A heavy flush spread across your face, and you grabbed his hand, your resolve faltering as you tugged on his hand to lead him away.

“Forget it,” you blushed. “It's not something we've even talked about, don't worry about it”

Killer kept his feet firmly planted, pulling you back to him. He grabbed you so your ass was facing Heat, taking fistfuls of your flesh in each hand and gauging Heat's reaction at the purposefully provocative action. Heat very quickly pretended he hadn't been watching what he assumed to be a private interaction, but couldn't help but let his eyes wander as you squeaked under Killer's surprisingly rough hands. It wasn't like him to be so very forward, especially not in front of others.

“You sure about that princess?” Killer purred, shifting your short skirt up so it flashed just the tiniest bit of your clothed core towards Heat, who looked like he was ready to throw himself overboard to cool off the heated thoughts swimming in his brain. “He looks like he wants to devour you, and I might just be feeling generous enough today to let him. You have been so good to me lately after all”

You squeaked again as he groped your ass, smacking him on the chest. “K-Killer!” you yelped, “I-I would never! You're my lover, I wouldn't betray you!”

“Oh come now, it's just a little harmless fun,” he reassured you, “as long as it's my bed you come back to, I don't mind sharing.”

“Wait, really?” You blinked up at him.

“You love me don't you?” He asked.

“Of course I do!” You quickly replied.

“Well, that's all that matters to me,” he nested his mask in the crook of your shoulder, “You're more than enough for me, but I'm not blind, I know you see a difference between love and lust. If you wanna fuck other guys, or girls, I'm more than happy to indulge that, as long as I'm the only one that gets to make love to you”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other nervously, looking back at Heat, who was leaning against the railing with his arm crossed, still pretending to not be watching you. You caught his eye and he quickly blushed and looked away.

“And… what about you?” You asked nervously.

“You mean will I be joining you?” Killer pulled you back against him, “I wouldn't miss watching him fuck you for the world, I want to hear him make you fucking scream”

A small moan only audible to Killer slipped out of your mouth and he knew he had you. In truth, Killer loved sharing a woman, and had long thought about sharing you, though usually he shared with Kid. As much as he was in the mood to indulge his fantasy of watching another man fuck you, he and Kid weren’t exactly on speaking terms right now. He wasn't against sharing with Heat though, especially considering he knew you were already comfortable with him, and Heat already knew what you liked.

“Don't you think it's a little… soon… though?” You asked nervously, “we haven't been together for long”

“No, you're right,” he sighed, loosening his hold on you. It was a good point, but just because he'd been thinking about it for months, and it was something he’d indulged in often before you came on board, didn't mean you had even had time to consider it. Not to mention your shaky sexual history. “Sorry, I got carried away”

“Kil, is this something you want?” You whispered, worried you'd let him down. You weren't against it, and in fact the idea of having two men pleasure you at once was extremely alluring, but you'd barely just found out you were pregnant, and it’d only been a few days since you and Killer had even started going the whole way again. It all seemed so fast. He was right that love and lust were separate entities for you, and you’d definitely fantasies about being between the two men more times than you could count, whether you wanted it wasn’t the issue. The issue was trust, and whether this was some sort of test on your faithfulness. Killer had taken so long to open up to you, surely this would be a stress on the relationship? Surely a man didn’t want to watch another man fuck his pregnant girlfriend? Then again, Killer had no doubt had a long sexual history before you came along, he’d known what he likes for a long time, maybe he thought about sex the same way you did? As just a pleasurable activity? There was certainly a difference though between rough sex and the gentle lovemaking you sometimes had with Killer.

“It.. it is… but don't worry about it princess,” he stood tall again, taking your hand in his, “let's just go spend some time together, aye?”

Hearing the disappointment in his voice made you realise that perhaps this was a kink of his, which meant surely it wouldn't affect his love for you. This was something he wanted, and it wouldn't change anything for you in regards to how you felt about him or Heat, you already knew you were more than capable of fucking Heat without falling for him. Not to mention, the pregnancy hormones had been making you unbearably horny. Your thighs rubbed together needily, thinking about being sandwiched between two such large, muscular, well endowed men. Men you trusted, that you knew would never hurt you. Your resolve set and your confidence suddenly fueled by need, you slipped out of Killer's hold and hurried over to Heat.

“Yin?” Killer questioned as you power walked away, he worried that he'd pissed you off. He wasn't sure who's brows raised higher, his or Heat's, when you grabbed Heat's hand and pulled him along behind you towards your and Killer's shared quarters. You didn't pause as you passed the masked man, giving him only a “you coming?” in explanation as you disappeared with Heat into the cabin.

Killer hurried in behind the two of you, locking the door behind him. You'd already pushed a very startled and confused Heat on to the bed when Killer sauntered up behind you.

“Are you sure my love? You don't have to on my account,” Killer asked, worried you were only doing this to appease him. You had a history of just doing what you were told to sexually please men who held power over you, and he was more than worried that this was just being done in fear of disappointing him.

“Oh, I'm very sure,” you stepped towards Heat, who was propping himself up on the bed with his elbows, his legs hanging over the side. You stood between his knees, removing your mask and placing it on the side table. “What was it you said my love? You wanted to hear him making me scream?”

Heat was bright red with blush as you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips and pressing down against his obvious erection. “How bout it Heat?” You purred, running your fingernails down his front and playing with the lacings on his corset, tugging on them and letting them snap back against his skin, “maybe we should show Kil what we used to get up to before he had the guts to claim me”

“Oi,” Killer growled, standing between Heat's knees where you had previously been. Heat's chest was rising and falling fast, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest. Whether from arousal, or fear, he wasn't sure. He knew Killer had a fetish for watching, but he'd never been involved before, and especially didn't expect him to encourage it with his newly pregnant girlfriend. Not that he hadn't been eyeing you hungrily since hearing your happy, unexpected news, Heat had something of a kink for pregnant women, though he'd never admit to it. He was waiting for the other ball to drop though, worried that this was a test of loyalty from the first mate.

You turned your torso and looked right at Killer, challenging him, as you rolled your hips with purpose against Heat's hard length, pulling a long groan from him. “Maybe I'll just make my own fun, shall I?” You purred, continuing to pull groans from Heat as your nails started to leave marks on his exposed midriff. The way you weren't even bothering to look at him was making him feel used in the best kind of way, and it made his cock twitch underneath you.

Killer snickered at the challenge, confident now that you wanted this as much as he did, and that you were comfortable with this very sudden situation. He kicked off his shoes and slid onto the bed, sitting against the headboard and palming himself as he watched you press your clothed cunt against Heat. You sat back, raising your skirt so Heat could see the dampness forming a dark spot on your panties.

“What do you say Heat?” You bent down over him, running your tongue over the scars on his cheek til you met with his ear, “Do you want me to use you? Fuck you for my own enjoyment while Killer watches?”

Heat replied only with a surprisingly loud moan and a roll of his hips, bucking up into you hard enough that he almost threw you off. Killer made an amused huff under his mask as he continued to palm his length over his jeans. “You better show her a good time Heat,” Killer half laughed, “she's been awful bossy and needy since getting knocked up”

“I've always been bossy,” you huffed.

“And she's always been needy,” Heat laughed, finally getting comfortable with the situation and finding his voice. You smacked his chest playfully.

“Alright, that's quite enough from you,” you scorned, adjusting yourself till you could get your panties off and shuffling up Heat's body to straddle his face. “Let's give you something more useful to do with that tongue, shall we?”

Heat eagerly kissed your plush thighs, licking along the inside before wrapping his arms around them and pulling you down onto his face with a force that took you by surprise. He couldn’t deny that he’d missed eating you out, it’d been months since you’d let him touch you like that. You threw your head back and moaned as Heat's tongue delved hungrily between your folds, and you clawed at Killer's thigh for support. You watched as he finally freed his straining cock from his pants, and you swatted away his hand to replace it with your own, basking in his groans as you ran your thumb through the precum spilling from the tip, using it as lubricant to stroke him. His eyes were firmly fixed on where Heat’s tongue was greedily lapping at your cunt, your silk making his scarred face glisten. Satisfied that Heat's strong arms had you steady, you reached back with your free hand and slid it under the waistband of his baggy pants. He grunted into you as you took hold of his pierced length, stroking him and Killer at the same time, more than pleased with yourself to have two men in your hands at once.

Fueled by your pride you found yourself quickly reaching your peak, coming fast and quite suddenly on Heat's face as his tongue thrust in and out of you. Killer lifted his mask so his mouth was exposed, and he leaned forward and kissed you harshly, his kisses hard enough to bruise, swallowing your loud moans as Heat licked you clean of your release. He was beaming with pride for you, and counting his lucky stars that he had a woman so willing to indulge his fantasies on such short notice, and with such enthusiasm. You released Heat from the prison of your thighs and he panted heavily, a heavily lidded smile on his face, licking his lips.

“You're sweeter,” Heat noted, savouring your silk on his tongue.

“That's what I thought,” Killer hummed between nips at your throat. His hand reached down between your legs as you sat back on Heat's chest, still panting from your orgasm, two fingers easily sliding inside you, quickly followed by a third. You shivered as they pumped your over sensitive cunt. “So wet and open for us,” Killer purred, feeling you clench around his fingers at his praise. “You want a cock inside you, don't you princess? I can feel how greedy you are for it” He lifted you off Heat and into his own lap with his strong arms, your chest against his, and you reached down to try and line him up with your entrance, only for him to pull your hand away. “Uh uh, we don't want to be rude to our guest do we?”

You felt the mattress shift as Heat moved behind you, and you gasped as suddenly your hips were pulled back, your torso pushed down and your ass lifted in the air as Heat eagerly pressed his tip against your pussy. You whimpered and pressed back against him needily, trying to take him inside you. You looked up at Killer's unreadable mask, his cock close enough to your face for you to slide forward just a little and make kitten licks up his length.

You moaned as Heat slid inside you easily, your pussy open and eager for him, whining at the unfamiliar and pleasurable feeling of his piercings rubbing against your sensitive g-spot as he pushed your skirt up to your waist, groping the flesh on your ass and using it as a anchor to pull you towards him as he penetrated you. You eagerly took advantage of your current position and ran your tongue flat along the underside of Killer's cock, sucking it into your mouth as his hands found your hair and guided it further into you. He knelt in front of you, making shallow thrusts in time with Heat's.

“Good girl,” Killer groaned, his mask clicking against the headboard as his head tilted back for a moment before leaning back forward to watch where Heat’s cock was buried in your cunt, “look at you taking two cocks like you were made to do this.” He grunted as you moaned on his cock, Heat's thrusts forcing Killer deeper down your throat.

You were thoroughly enjoying being ricocheted between the two men when the lookout bell rang out over the ship. You almost choked on Killer's dick as the bedroom door swung open without so much as a knock, and you stared at Kid in the doorway like a deer in headlights, a string of saliva still connecting you to Killer’s cock, and Heat's dick still deep inside you.

[NEXT CHAPTER]