#been a while since I’ve sat down and actually like. “manually” shaded a drawing

[camping-with-monsters]

Some fun pieces I did because @gongedtornado made a really cool brush for painting ⭐️🍄

[svnflowervol666]

Luna de Amor (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex

Author’s Note: A reupload as my original post did not make it to the tags. This is the first time I’ve ever posted a full smut scene on this blog, so, go me! Based on this ask. Smut usually takes me a while longer than other pieces, mostly due to the fact that I like my smut to be as thorough as possible, meaning I have to triple check everything about seven times. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Requests are still open, so send me whatever you’d like to see next, NSFW or otherwise! Take care and tpwk.

Before Y/N came along, there were many ways in which Harry would conquer the restlessness that crept up on him in the middle of the night. He would go for a run on the nearly desolate city streets, he would hunker down in his home studio and work on his latest song, he would read a few chapters in his current favorite french novel. There were dozens of outlets Harry had familiarized himself with to utilize for when the time came in which he just couldn’t manage to fall asleep despite knowing that he should. He was older now and staying up all night like he would as a teenager just wasn’t good for him in any capacity anymore.

All of these outlets, but they suddenly went out of the window when he met Y/N. She was unlike any other woman he had ever been with or even met before, but he supposed that’s how it always was when you were in love with someone. He swore he could stare at her features for forever, that she was more intoxicating than any substance or drink. But looking at her in the glimmering moonlight that shone through the cracked shades was not what put him to bed whenever that frustrating feeling of not being able to close his eyes and be at peace with himself came insidiously slithering into his head.

There something about the way her hair was mussed about her head like a halo around her pillow, or maybe it was the way that she was sleeping on her stomach so that the swell of her breast peaked through the comforter. Either way, Harry couldn’t help but feel his cock swelling in his boxers the longer he traced his eyes over the shape of her sleeping body next to his.

He slid his body over towards her, turning her and wrapping his arms around her body so that his front was flush with her backside. Warmth radiated from her sleeping form and Harry’s hands found their way to her breasts. Harry began kneading them softly in aim to draw her from her slumber, but the most he got from her was a shift in her bum on the mattress which caused Harry to hiss at the way she unknowingly ground herself against his cock.

His next attempt was to go for her neck. Harry always teased her for being so sensitive there but at the same time, there was nothing more that he loved than feeling her turn to putty in his hands when his lips roamed about the column of her throat. He started nipping at her skin with his lips, just barely meeting his skin with hers. Goosebumps raised in response to his touches as his kisses grew sloppier and sloppier. It was when he’d hit her sweet spot with his tongue that he heard the sound he’d been searching for. Harry swears he’s never heard anything more heavenly in his entire life, that soft, half-groan half-moan that fell from her parted lips. It brought his neediness to the forefront.

“Baby,” Harry grumbled against the crook of her neck, tickling her with his outgrown stubble.

Amidst her hazy state she was able to hum back at him, though it sounded once more like a broken moan.

“Need ya t’ wake up,” he hoarsely whispered as he began working himself against her backside, slowly but surely rutting his hips into the skin of her bum to ease some of the tension that had built up in his cock.

He couldn’t see the way the corners of her lips turned up knowingly. She was no stranger to this Harry, the Harry that woke her in the middle of the night with an itch that he just couldn’t seem to scratch on his own. It was almost comical to her, the way that he’d do just about everything in the book besides coming right out and tell her that he was horny that he wanted a shag. Sometimes, she’d tease him and pretend to be asleep longer than she actually was before turning over and giving him what he wanted, but not tonight. Unbeknownst to Harry, he had stirred her from quite the dream, so there was no need to dance around the ledge this time.

With a sigh, she resituated herself in the bed, turning in Harry’s arms so that their faces sat mere inches from each other.

“Hi,” she sang through her sleep-ridden voice.

“Hi,” Harry repeated back to her in the same groggy tone.

“Need some help?” she quirked her brow and gestured downwards to the tent in his boxers.

“Maybe,” he answered with a sleepy chuckle.

She knocked him on his back so that she was straddling his waist and sitting on his painfully hard cock. He hissed at the commotion, but the feeling soon turned to euphoria when her hands snuck into the waistband of his boxers and she took his length in her fingers. It felt heavy in her grip as she smeared the silky beads of precum along his tip, coating him in preparation to make home within her tight, warm walls.

“I was dreamin’ about you,” she spoke lowly as she gently twisted her wrist around his cock, revelling in the way Harry’s brows were furrowing together in response to her touch.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, “We were kinda like how we are now. But this is much better,” she finished with a tantilizing pump of her hand.

Harry’s hips jutted into her fist, wanting more than just her teasing touches. It almost made her laugh aloud, how needy he could be in the middle of the night like this. She wanted him just as much, only due to her still-drowsy state, she was able to control it.

She leaned down and laid her body flush with Harry’s as she kissed him for the first time since he’d woken her up. They tasted of the remnants of their minty toothpaste but mostly of morning breath, but that was the furthest thing from their minds. Harry held her close to him as his tongue slipped between her lips, aching to get her going as quickly as he could. His arms slid under the ratty t-shirt of his that she slept in so that he could lift it off of her frame, breaking the kiss for only a fraction of a second.

Once her chest was free of clothing, Harry ran his hands along the sides of her breasts and spine, chilling her skin with the metal of his many rings. He ducked his head down to kiss the center of her chest and then outwards to her wrap his plump lips around her erect nipples. Those velvety smooth sighs of hers turned into the moans that Harry adored oh-so dearly, and she began to feel the wetness from her core start to pool at the front of her panties. One of her hands was still lost in his untameable curls, but she was able to move the other down to grip his cock in her digits once more.

“Ye’ ready?” Harry asked, his hazy, hungry eyes peering up at her.

She nodded as she sank down slowly, splitting herself on top of him. Harry always swore that the way the wrinkle between her brows reared itself and her lips parted just slightly when she first felt his cock first enter her was by far his favorite face of hers. Well, his second favorite, apart from the face she made when she came, he supposed. He gripped onto her hips tightly as she lowered herself fully onto him, exhaling a sigh of relief when she made it all of the way down to the base of his cock.

They soon found their rhythm, her bouncing and rolling her hips against his while they chased their highs. Her early morning sensitivity caused her to melt in his arms with the way the tip of his cock was able to brush against all of her sweetest spots that made her eyes roll back into her head and a shiver run down her spine.

All that was heard in the otherwise silent room were sounds of wet skin meeting harshly each time she pushed herself back onto Harry. Their lips chased each other in between thrusts, eager to be as close to each other as they possibly could. Sweat pooled in the dip of her back and in the grooves of Harry’s stomach, the two of them yearning to reach the point to where they both saw stars.

Her bouncing soon turned to lazy, unmotivated rocking as she found herself almost physically unable of continuing. The tendons in her thighs were screaming for relief and the heat that surrounded her made her feel like she was trapped. She could feel herself right there, right on the brink of getting to where she needed to be, but she was frustrated beyond belief because knew she couldn’t get there alone.

“Harry,” she whine as she tugged on the ends of the chocolate curls on the nape of his neck.

He sensed her weariness, but he was waiting to see how long it would take her to beg for him to take control of the two of them.

“Ye’ gettin’ there?” he huffed in between each manual breath.

She raised her eyes from being buried in Harry’s neck to look at him.

“Please,” she moaned.

With one fluid motion, he had her flipped over onto her back and his cock plunged in her soaking cunt once more. She cried out at the new angle of Harry on top of her this time, watching his dainty, jade green cross necklace dangle inches away from her face.

“‘ve got ya, baby,” Harry muttered into her ear as he mouthed against her neck, “ye’ can let go.”

He continued to drill his cock into her heat, each time brushing against the spongey part of her walls that made her thighs shake and reflexively want to close. Harry caught wind of her trembling and forced her legs open with his one of his strong hands while the elbow of his other arm balanced his body on top of hers. Their stomachs brushed against each other with every thrust, only adding to the overwhelming sensations that they were both feeling.

“Ye’ so perfect. So good f’ me.”

Harry’s words of encouragement took her right back to where she was before, right at the brink of breaking. Her moans went up an octave and Harry could tell by the way she had started to clench around him that she wasn’t going to last much longer. He knew for certain that with the way that her cunt was so expertly gripping his cock that he wasn’t that far behind her.

“Ye’ gonna cum for me, lovie?”

She could barely make a sound, so she opted to grip Harry’s shoulders even harder than he was as her answer. This made Harry smile and only pushed him to fuck her harder, even deeper so his hips would certainly leave light purple bruises on hers come morning.

Her release sprung onto her quickly, so quickly that it caught Harry off guard and forced his own release out of him as well. His milky seed shot deep into her, painting her walls and filling her up so thoroughly that it seeped out from around his cock and onto the satin sheets. They both laid there for a moment, Harry laying his full weight on top of her while they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeats. She twiddled with the clasp of Harry’s necklace while he pecked at her sweat-slick breast with his lips.

Once they’d caught their breathe, Harry reluctantly pulled his cock from her cunt, making her wince as the sudden emptiness. He watched with a fascinated expression as his cum ran from her properly swollen center before reaching across the bed for the shirt he’d pulled off of her body a while back. With caring hands, Harry cleaned the two of them up, tossing the soiled garment somewhere off into the floor to be dealt with another time.

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled into her skin as he crawled back into the covers with her and pulled her into his arms once more.

“Anytime,” she laughed, still somewhat out of breath.

“But will you please go to sleep now? You have an interview in the morning and you only wake me up for sex when you can’t sleep so I’m assuming you’ve been awake this whole time,” she sounded like a parent talking to Harry, which he adored.

She felt Harry’s laugh reverberate off her chest and shake her body, to which he then promised her he’d be good and go to bed.

All of those outlets, taking walks and writing songs, but none of them compared to this one.

[jonogueirawrites]

Save me from myself.

Chapter 11.

AO3

Summary:

All she wanted was to give Bucky a little something, but in the end, Lilly gave him much more than that

TW: none.

Remember.

Making circles with her thumb on the small box in her hand, Lilly made her way to the stationery store down the street.

The place was bustling with people going on with their lives. Some of them had their faces down, looking at their phones while others chatted amicably with their friends laughing freely.

She was waiting for the pedestrian traffic light to turn green when a dog barked, drawing her attention. The small animal played with a couple who sat on the park’s blue bench. Resting under the shade of a big old tree.

A small sigh escaped her mouth as her chest filled with longing for things she could only imagine, and once again, her thumb caressed the wooden box in her palm.

Taking her eyes from the scene, she walked across the street and made her way to the store.

All kinds of wrapping paper crowded the walls. From seasonal to birthday. From thematic to classic. Her eyes were overwhelmed with so many options, and her mind started sorting through all of them.

A petite girl with an easy smile neared and started asking questions to help her. Help that she happily welcomed since that kind of delicate manual work was foreign to her. Stabbing, suffocating, cleaning guns? She could do it with closed eyes. Her fingers knew all of it. Wrapping, decorating, and making bows? Not even close.

After a couple of minutes, Lilly left the store with a beautiful sky-blue gift box, ornated with a small silver bow sitting on top of it. The box fitted perfectly on her hand, and she hid it away inside a black plastic bag. Pleased with her choice, she headed to one more place before her final destination.

The room was bare, and the girl greeted her with a big smile. Although they had never met before, they had a friend in common. A friend that both wanted to see happy.

“Thank you, Shuri.” Lillian hugged the princess. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call you Her…”

“That won’t be necessary. Please, and thank you!” They laughed.

“I’ll see you around then?” She asked from the door.

“As soon as my brother gets off my back.” Shuri rolled her eyes and waved Lilly a farewell.

With everything set, Lillian was finally able to go to the compound.

Joyful laughter was what she wanted to hear, but instead, she found an empty place. She knew they weren’t on any mission, so where could they be?

Walking to the kitchen, she opened the fridge and served herself some of Tony’s ice-cream. How could she resist something so tempting? She had already told Tony to not leave it in the fridge if he didn’t want her to have some, but the man just gave her a tired smile.

Her eyes fluttered closed with the first spoon, and with the second, her brain forgot how to function.

Minutes had passed, and when the ice cream was gone, she stood up and washed the dishes that were left in the sink. Tired of waiting around, she took the phone from her pocket and called Steve.

He picked it up on the second ring. Lilly could hear the smile on his voice.

“Lilly.”

“Where are you guys? I’ve been waiting here forever.” She slumped in Steve’s favorite seat.

“You never said you were coming by-”

“Do I need invitations now?” Her lips curled up, and she giggled.

“Of course, not. But if I knew you’d be coming, I would have invited you to the meeting-”

“Because that is a hard pass, right?”

“They are not the most entertaining, but they are important to… Anyway. We have just finished and are coming back, just give me a minute and-”

“Actually,…” she scratched her head and bit her lower lip, “I’m here to see Bucky.”

“Oh, it is Bucky now? I see.” He chuckled.

“I just came to thank him for the other day. The picnic, remember?”

“Yeah, How could I?” There was silence for a moment. “How’s therapy?”

“It’s surprisingly good.” She threw her legs up the armrest. “Better than I expected.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Don’t forget, we have to catch that movie on Friday.”

“No way, I would forget it. How long have we been planning it?”

“Feels like years now.” His voice came from the elevator, and they hung up. “So,…” he continued when he entered the room, “I bring the stomach, and you bring the food?” He laughed animatedly.

“Sure. I owe you one.” Lilly looked at him. The therapist he recommended did, indeed, help her more than she imagined. “Just don’t expect me to do all the work every time.”

Steve gave her a tight hug. They talked for a bit longer before she headed to Bucky’s room.

The elevator ride was smooth and lonely. Everyone had their things to do and were out, except Steve, Bucky, and Clint.

Once again, she found herself standing in front of his white ash door, although this time, she hoped there were more cheerful memories to be made.

Knocking on the door, she heard movement inside, and for some reason, she didn’t know, her hands patted her clothes. A funny feeling settled in her stomach while she closed her hands in balls at her sides.

As soon as the door opened and his face came into view, something inside her snapped. When her eyes met his, her lips became a huge smile, one that she noticed he had as well.

For a couple of seconds, they stared at each other until Bucky leaned on the frame and crossed his arms over his chest.

The light grey t-shirt hugged his frame, catching her attention. With the motion of his body, the fabric slid upwards, displaying the beginning of firm abs and promises of delicious things hidden beneath black sweatpants.

Pretending to fumble with the plastic bag not to be caught staring at his body, she lifted it and flashed him a smile, not before swallowing all the saliva in her mouth.

“I have something for you.” She shook the bag. “And I hope you like it because it was not easy to find.”

“What did I do to deserve it?” He walked back inside and waited for her to enter before closing the door.

“You were there when I needed it.” Lilly’s voice was firm, but her eyes didn’t look at his.

“Lillian, I…” She turned with the gift in her hands, and he stared at it.

She walked to his bed and sat. Patting at her side, she waited for him to sit and then placed the box into his open hands.

“You don’t have to say anything.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “C’mon. Open it.” She poked his hand.

His gaze lifted to hers, and she made sure to sit closer until their bodies were touching. His skin was warm, and his smell intoxicating. Bucky was tempting in more ways than Lilly thought possible, and that realization was not only confusing but also scary. Still, she found herself reaching for his face with the tips of her fingers to tuck the strands of hair that persisted in blocking her view of his calming blue eyes.

When she touched his skin, she noticed how deep he breathed, the way his eyes flicked to her lips.

Biting his lip, Bucky averted her gaze and started to open the gift, and Lillian couldn’t help but wring her hands.

-----

Bucky didn’t understand why he was so nervous. Of course, it had nothing to do with her body so close to his. Her hair caressing his skin and its smell reaching his nose. Its gentle smell was unable to mask her natural scent, which, in a strange way, was soothing to him.

He placed the box on his lap, afraid of dropping it and ruining whatever was inside when she leaned over his shoulder, and he felt her body pressed against his.

Commanding his body not to betray him by displaying his emotion, he carefully took the ends of the strings with his slightly trembling fingers and pulled. Thinking the bow would fall on the floor, he reached to grab it with his flash hand, only to have it curl around her delicate skin because she had the same reaction. Without looking over his shoulder, his thumb made circles on her hand before letting it go. Moments later, he still felt her warmth in his hand.

With great care and precise movements, he unwrapped the box. His fingers tenderly brushed the lid. In beautifully engraved letters, a message was written in it.

“Write notes to remember who you were.

Write notes to remembers who you are

Write notes to remember who you want to be.

Write notes to remember me.”

The words were simple, but the message hit hard. Who he had been, who he was, and who he wanted to be were completely different people. The last line where there was a small lily drawn and where she asked him to remember her was the one he read and reread… There were plenty of reasons to remember her. Some terrible, some good, but most of them were reasons that made him get out of bed every day.

Glancing at her over his shoulder, he gave in to his desires and stroked her cheek.

“Thank you!” As soon as she leaned on his touch, his body melted away.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Her face was close to his, and he felt her breath on his skin. “Go on. Open it.”

He hated the fact that he had to look away from her but turned once again to the box on his lap.

With both thumbs, he slowly lifted the lid. Inside he found a small notepad made of recycled paper and a silver fountain pen. Its design similar to the one in his arm.

Bucky traced his metal arm with his fingertips and was suddenly lost in thought, just to be brought back by her fingers lacing his.

“It’s okay, Bucky.” Lilly squeezed his hand. “I’m here.” Her words caressed his ear and cheeks.

Turning his eyes back to the box, he saw a small black fabric package.

He felt Lilly’s body press closer to him when he reached for it, and he noticed how she held her breath. Letting the content fall into his palm, his lips twitched into a shy smile.

His old dog tags brought all kinds of memories back, he was sure it had not been easy to find them. Straightening his spine, he threw the chain over his shoulder and felt the tags against his chest.

Lilly shuffled behind him, moving her body away from his, so he turned to her, resting his knee on the mattress.

“Do you like it?” Her head was tilted, and she worried her lip between her teeth.

Chuckling, he nodded at her.

“It took me a while, but I think it was worth it.” She reached for the tags and touched them. Her fingers lingering on his chest. “Here, let me show you something.”

She came close again and stopped near him. The proximity of their bodies sending goosebumps all over him. He had to look up to meet her gaze.

There, in between the tags, was a small phoenix pendant.

“The phoenix that rises from its own ashes. A new opportunity to do better. To be better.” She gazed up to his eyes. “Every new day is a new chance, Bucky. Don’t let it go to waste.”

There was a moment of silence in the room, so Bucky took the opportunity to watch her every move.

“It is made of vibranium. I’m sure you know about it.” He could only nod because she looked at him, and he saw her eyes traveling on his face.

“I believe in you, and not only that…” With a feather-light touch, she tucked his hair behind his ears. “I can say now, from deep inside my heart and soul. With all the certainty in the world.” One hand fell to his chest and stopped near his heart. The fingers of the one that remained on his face traced his jaw and tilted his chin up. Her voice a whisper lacing him in hope. “I trust you.”

At the end of her words, Lilly bent down and kissed his forehead. Her soft lips lingering on his skin, making his heart skip a beat, and his soul fill with happiness.

When she parted from him, he silently cursed everything and desperately mourned the loss of contact. When her eyes met his again, he knew he would do anything to protect her, to be with her. If only she accepted him.

And although he wanted to say something, she stood up from her place and walked out of the room, leaving him there speechless and alone.

He threw his body back onto the mattress and smiled to himself. His metal fingers playing with the small phoenix and his flesh ones tracing the skin she had just kissed.

I hope you liked.

Likes and reblogs are super appreciated!

Next chapter

[writeintrees]

Carter Part 4 of 4

Summary: This is it, Carter is going to die here. His torturers are relentless and no one is coming for him. At least that is what he thinks until a mysterious stranger busts into the building searching for their sister. Carter is brought to the rebels, who surprise him, keeping him on his toes and helping him to work through a few things. This group is so happy and kind and better than he could ever dream of.

Found family, trans mc, chronic pain mc, trauma, hurt/comfort

Content warnings: opioids, torture (simple physical injury and neglect), blood, low self esteem, negative self talk, history of physical and mental abuse from family and a partner, self harm scars, panic attack, getting triggered, derealization, dissociation

3192 of 15060 words total

part 1, part 2, part 3

It is nerve wracking to be left in the car while negotiations are underway. The building towers black and menacing above him with only the top floor lit. Orange light seeps through the shaded windows but he cannot help but feel dread for what might be going on behind the glass. 

He is in the backseat and parked a half block away, so he has good visibility of the entire entrance. He checks the phone in his hand again, left behind by Naji. Just the two texts from Emille, the first saying they had arrived at Mister Kodua’s door and the second that they are starting negotiations and it may take a while. Sent three minutes ago. Fuck.

He runs a hand through his hair and leans with his face against the window. His breath fogs up the glass and he draws a little heart before it disappears.

A black SUV pulls up and at first Carter does not think anything of it. But as he looks around at the surroundings, he notices that the people stationed at the street corners have vanished. One is leaning into a storefront with their phone to their ear. A third person begins to step out of the SUV and Carter’s blood runs cold. He sees platinum blonde box braids and his mind is back in that chair, in pain and waiting for death. His hands fumble with Naji’s phone and it only does a half-ring before going straight to voicemail. “Shit.” He gropes around in the dark of the backseat until he finds the walkie-talkie. “Hello? Hello, Naji, come in.” Panic edges into his voice.

There is a moment of silence before the static turns on and Naji comes through. “What is it Carter?”

“The coalition is here. They’re walking towards the building.”

When the static turns back on, there are various crashes and thumps. Someone is talking but they must be too far from the microphone to come through clearly. The static clicks off. Dread raises the hairs on the back of his neck and his face is hot with panic. Before he can spiral too far into wondering whether he should reach out again or if they should be on radio silence, the static clicks back on. Carter holds his breath. There is another slam before Emille’s voice comes through. “We’re going down the back stairwell. Can you start the car and circle to the back entrance?”

“Yeah. I’ve got you.” He climbs over the center console and turns on the car, too impatient to mind the beeping asking for him to buckle his seatbelt. It has been a few years since he has sat in the driver’s seat so he takes the corner a little too sharply and grits his teeth as he urges his body to stay upright. He pulls up just in time to see Naji limping her way to the curb. Stairs, right. 

Emille helps her into the backseat and barely has the passenger door open before yelling to “go go go!”

He accelerates. “Which way?” He asks.

“Left. That should take you to the highway.”

He does that and has the wherewithal to buckle his seatbelt on a straightaway. His heart is pounding wildly in his chest and he wonders whether he should be driving in this condition. He was already iffy when he moved to the state a few years back. 

“My goddamn wheelchair.” Naji says through clenched teeth.

“We’ll get it back.” Emille says as if trying to speak it into existence. “At least we got a powerful ally.���

“What the fuck happened back there?” Carter cranes his head, trying to see Naji in the rearview mirror. The car beeps to tell him that he is drifting out of the lines and he snaps back to focusing on the road.

“Take the next exit.” Emille points towards the sign.

They focus on directing him back and before he can get his bearings enough to ask questions, they are pulling up to the building. Carter turns the car off. Emille takes the keys and hops out to start unscrewing the license plate. 

“Carter, be a dear and get my spare wheelchair?”

“Sure. It’s in the closet, right?”

“Actually… Just go in the first door to your right. You’ll see it.” 

Tasha has come out to give Emille a spare plate. Carter goes in the open front door. He is surprised he has never noticed this room before. The hallway does blur together a bit with all the glass with different patterns over it. There is a fifth office structured much like the others but with simple white foam leaned up against the glass wall. Its door is partially covered by the open front door and he has to maneuver them so he can enter. 

It is an absolute mess inside. There is a gurney covered in so many items he doubts it would actually help in an emergency. He finds a simple folded up hospital wheelchair to the side behind some rolled up schematics. 

Naji glowers at it as he brings it out. “Damn. I loved that wheelchair.”

“Emille says you can still get it back.” He says as he unfolds the spare. The foot rests click as he lowers them. 

“Yeah, well Emille is more hopeful than I dare to be.” She takes one step and collapses into the chair. “And that is more walking than I want to do in the next month.”

He hovers awkwardly, distantly remembering that it is intrusive to touch someone’s mobility aid. “Do you want me to push you?”

She sighs defeatedly. “Yeah. Go ahead.

The car beeps and Carter looks up to see Emille hovering by the door, the keys in their hands. They follow him and Naji in and make a beeline to the living room.

“What happened?” Tasha asks, eyeing Naji’s wheelchair as she angrily puts on the manual brakes.

“The coalition fucking happened.” Emille mutters.

“It was doomed from the start. They knew Mister Kodua would have the vase locked down tight. So they waited for someone to entice it out of hiding.” Naji says.

“Carter gave us an early warning that saved our asses. They had the front and elevator blocked and fucking broke into the penthouse. After trashing half his place, Mister Kodua gave us the vase and an escape in exchange for us giving those bastards hell.”

“You got it?!” Joao asks, so loud that Carter winces.

Emille opens up their satchel and produces a shape wrapped in cut paper to cushion it, something like the rich man’s bubble wrap. They are grinning. “Yup. I’ll go put it in our safe now.” 

“I need a break.” Naji announces. “Walking down five flights of stairs was hell.” She rolls towards her room, her elbows bumping the arm rests every once in a while and her cursing under her breath.

“Hey nice going on the early warning man!” Joao rounds the couch and raises his hand to give Carter a high five. 

He stiffens and his arms immediately go up to protect his head. His breaths come short and shallow as his brain shuts down against the pain. He barely registers how raising his arms tugs at stitches and causes his injured muscles to scream. A hand touches his shoulder and he flinches with a gasp. He claps one hand over his mouth.

“Hey. Hey it’s okay, you’re safe.” Emille’s voice cuts through the haze. He dares to slowly open his eyes to find Emille to his side, giving him a small smile. “Good. See? You’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you.”

His chest is still rising and falling like that of a rabbit. He nods weakly. Mercifully, no one looks at him strangely when he excuses himself from the dwindling conversation to lie down. He hugs his midsection and stares at the posters on the far wall then closes his eyes against images that rise intrusively in his mind. His fingers run over the scars on his wrist, feeling the ridges there, hearing how his ex yelled at him every time he found a new cut even though he had no trouble marring Carter’s skin himself. 

“I’m not there. I’m safe.” He whispers to himself. His past is two states away between his ex and his family. Even with the more recent shit, he will never have to see that torture building again. 

If he goes back to his boring job and boring apartment now there is no reason that anyone should hurt him again. He does not know anything, at least way less than everyone here. He can just fade into anonymity without any attachments. That would be fine. He has dealt with it before and can deal with it again.

He looks around the personalized room. The little touches make him smile. It is Emille’s room, he reminds himself. There is no place for him here. He is overstaying his welcome.

There is a knock on the locked door. He startles and tries to not make any noise. His mom would leave him alone if he was quiet. 

“Carter?” Emille’s voice comes through the glass. 

That voice seems so foreign among all of the bad memories. He realizes with guilt that they are having to knock on their own door. That he has taken over their space. He stands and opens it, forcing himself to open it more than a hair’s breadth, to not block them out of their own room, to not be suspicious. 

“Hey.” They say, their voice soft. They are leaning with their shoulder against the doorframe. 

“Hi.” He says. He cringes against how lifeless it sounds.

They shift and suddenly Carter imagines it so clearly: someone putting either hand on the doorframe and blocking his exit, forcing the door open before he can lock it, pushing into his space and- and-

His breaths are coming fast again. His eyes dart around mostly unseeing but wary of movement into his space.

“Shit. Shit shit hey Carter. Do you want me to go get Joao?” He shakes his head so emphatically it makes him dizzy. He grasps the door jam tightly. “I can leave you but I don’t want to leave you alone like this. How about Tasha?” Their knees are bent like they are not sure whether or not they should sit on the ground. A few strands have fallen out of their messy bun to lay over their sweater. They look soft and warm and safe.

He shakes his head again. “Can- can I hug you?”

“Yeah of course, why- oof.”

He surges forward and wraps his arms around them. The fuzzy material of their sweater twines between his fingers and helps to ground him. Their arms come up hesitantly and shift away from the bandages until they find a relatively un-injured path over which to wrap. They straighten up and shift to tilt their cheek against the top of his head. He lets out a shaky breath and burrows more tightly into their chest, welcoming the throb of his ribs beneath all this comfort.

They stay like that while the hallway seems to settle in around them. As if the building was partially transparent before, a ghost of its true self because reality had detached from him. His breathing slows and his arm muscles begin to ache from the exertion of holding the position. He slowly releases their sweater and pulls away. They match his movements. Once they are far enough away to see each other’s faces, Carter cannot help the happiness from shining through his bashful expression. They look calmer too, although that is not hard to do with having to deal with someone having a panic attack. Oh shit he had a panic attack in front of them.

“I’m sorry.” He says automatically. 

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

His brows furrow but he does not dare risk an argument while so on edge. He does not think he could deal with any conflict without slipping back into a panic attack. There is so much to apologize for, he does not even know where to start. About not being able to deal with normal things, about them having to see him that way and having to calm him down, about taking their room, about latching onto them at the coalition building and being a burden on all of them ever since. He is crumpling underneath the weight of it all and surprised that they have not gotten rid of him yet.

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

Everyone is scrambling to find their connections and make sure none of this is traceable. There is a buyer in France who helped to fund them in the past. They are reasonably certain she is secure. They work overtime to shorten the turnaround period as much as possible. The less time they have the vase, the less time it gives the coalition to find them. The local coalition buyer is getting impatient, or so sources say, and by the time the vase is out of the country he will likely have black listed the coalition from his payrolls.

Mister Kodua comes in handy again. He sends one of his men to rendezvous with a list of international collectors he trusts. They bring Naji’s wheelchair back too. Carter is pretty sure she is more happy about that than about the buyers.

Which leads him to this: sitting in the passenger seat of that same red SUV, radio turned low and Emille tapping their fingers along. It feels wrong to be leaving them but he has to remind himself that this is not his fight. They never even invited him to their home, they just felt obligated to break him out and he far overstayed his welcome. 

Emille is now bobbing their head to the music. He smiles to himself. He cannot believe he was intimidated by them at the start. Granted, his first introduction to them was while severely injured and they were black-clad, holding a gun, and on a mission to save their sister. 

He is wearing one of Joao’s shirts and a pair of Emille’s pants and the same beat-up sneakers he had on through the whole torture thing. He cannot wait until he can toss these in some dumpster somewhere. Maybe set it on fire. Whatever removes them from existence.

“Here?”

His head jolts up to find the same drab apartment building he has lived in for the past two years. Much better than where he lived when he first came to the city though. “Yeah.” 

The car turns off and Emille steps out with him. It is awkward but he tries to be flattered that they are making sure he gets back safe. He catches the door before it locks behind one of his neighbors. They go up one flight of stairs and halfway down the hall before Carter realizes he does not have his keys. His pockets had been emptied by the time he had come to.

It is not an issue though because the door swings open. Unlocked.

“This-” Their voice shakes and they take a steadying breath. “This is where you live?”

He looks around at the room with its peeling wallpaper. Only a sliver of natural light comes in from between the apartment buildings, crammed together for maximum occupancy. The room is baren and dull -- and room describes this place better than apartment with only a hip height wall separating the sleeping space from the kitchen. There is little distinguishing it from when he first moved in except for his pain supplies littered about. There is a mattress on the floor and some dirty dishes that are smelling especially rank now. His phone is on the bed, staring at him. When was the last time he missed using those apps? 

He swallows weakly. With a slap in the face Carter realizes that there is nothing tethering him to this place. “Yeah. I guess it is.” He turns awkwardly toward Emille, wishing he felt embarrassed when he met their mixed expression. Instead he just feels tired like none of it even matters anymore. Once they walk out that door he will get back to his days that slide into one another with the only excitement coming from books. “Thanks for bringing me back. You didn’t have to.” He smiles weakly and tries to end this interaction. There is a sick feeling in the back of his skull and he cannot wait for that door to close behind them so he can just sink to the floor and cry. The room around him does not feel real and he fucking hates it. Nothing is right.

“Will some family be over later to take care of you?” He shakes his head. “Friends?” He stares blankly into the floor. “You don’t have anybody?”

“I’m fine. My ribs are barely bugging me anymore so I should be able to start work again tomorrow.” He laughs bitterly. “Assuming they didn’t fire me for leaving out of the blue. Shit they probably did. God I need a new job.” He runs his hand through his hair and tries not to wince when the skin over his abdomen pulls a little too tight. 

Emille is studying him carefully. He tries to put up a show of lowering his hand and leaning against the wall casually. They look slowly around the apartment again, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“It’s okay, you have no obligation to stay any longer. You guys have done so much for me already. There’s no way for me to repay you but maybe if you need a favor some time? I don’t know-”

“Come back with us.”

“What?”

“That’s how you can repay us. Move in and keep working with us. We can clean out the extra bedroom for you. Just- don’t stay here all alone.”

“Why would you want me?”

Emille rolls their eyes and pulls out their hand, counting out on their fingers. “You’re the only one who knows how to talk to Tash about that shit you went through. You might still have helpful info on the people in that facility. You’re a damn fine cook. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for. Besides, I need some more cushion from all the cis people. They’re fucking smothering me in that place.” They say these things with a tone as if they are jabbing at Carter but he feels himself getting flustered by all the compliments. “And believe it or not we actually like you. Even Naji’s grown fond of you.” 

He smiles, big and genuine. His chest is so full and he cannot believe this is real life. He does not quite believe them, not yet, but he is starting to think he is not quite as unloveable as he believes. 

“So you coming? Not gonna wait all day you know.”

He locates a duffel and fills it with clothes and other items. Fuck this place. He leaves the mess and does not contact his boss or the building manager. For all they know he just up and disappeared. 

This is going to be so much better.