#but goddamn this chapter is FIGHTING with me

[lightdancingwords]

One Day - Part Three of ?

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character

Series Summary: You were rescued by Dean Winchester a long time ago. Over time, you kept bumping into each other.

Word Count: 2948

Tags/Warnings: Violence, profanity, angst, argument, monsters/supernatural, grief and death

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! This story is AU as it does veer a bit from the history we see in Season 1 of Supernatural. There will be references to episodes and seasons, but it'll change as the chapters come. Enjoy the ride!

Dividers: credit to @talesmaniac89

Chapter Three: The Psychic of Missouri

Dean Winchester tightened his grip on the Impala’s steering wheel as he navigated through Lawrence, Kansas. Beside him, Sam shifted in his seat, restless. Dean was tense—returning to their childhood home dredged up memories he didn’t want to face. Yet, Sam had been persuasive in convincing him to come back due to some uneasy dreams.

Christ. Psychic dreams. His baby brother… was a fucking psychic. What the damn hell. God.

Still, he was happy to have Sam back, if not under ideal circumstances. John went on a hunt and went missing. Though it was more or less clear that John was choosing to avoid his sons, Dean was convinced something was wrong.

Sam had been reluctant to help out at first. That all changed when the same creature that killed their mother also killed Sam’s girlfriend, Jessica. Now both brothers were determined to find out why their father was avoiding them.

What Sam didn’t know was that Dean had been calling his father incessantly, leaving voicemail galore. Worst of all, John wasn’t responding. It was killing Dean that his father essentially abandoned them… again.

“Look, man, I don’t know what you’re expecting at this house,” Dean said to Sam, trying to convince his brother to drop this nonsense. He really, really didn’t want to see that house again.

“I know, Dean,” Sam said, fighting to explain it in a way Dean would understand or even just accept. “It’s just… we have to be there. Something’s wrong.”

Dean sighed, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel. “All right, fine.”

The Impala’s engine growled as Dean pulled up outside the house he once called home. He had a few small memories that he remembered outside of watching his mother burn on the ceiling. Some of them were actually nice, like the apple pies his mother made him. Her warm hugs. The way she’d touch his cheek.

His heart ached at remembering Mary. It’d been 22 years and the grief never left him. All the beer, all the women, all the hunts… it’d never leave him.

“All right… let’s go.”

Learning that Sam had been right about something off in their old house, learning from Sari that something was haunting the house, had not been on Dean’s bingo list. More, discovering that John consulted psychics galore to track down the who and what that killed Mary was another shock.

Just what the hell was John keeping from them? Except Dean knew he wouldn’t be able to confront his father, not really. That always had been Sam’s thing… and God, Dean envied him that strength.

Missouri… was an interesting woman. She clued in on Sam’s grief, scolded him for mentally cussing her out, and even threatened him with a spoon if he put his boots on her coffee table. Christ, he’d never been so spooked before and he faced a goddamned Wendigo.

Then the other surprise hit him in the face—at least, not literally this time.

“You can come in now,” Missouri said to someone just over her shoulder.

Sam and Dean looked up, confused. Then Dean’s eyes widened. He was about to say something when Missouri scolded him again.

“What did I say about swearing?”

Dean stopped, swallowed hard, and sat up straight. “Y/N… what are you doing here?”

Exasperated, Missouri rolled her eyes at Dean. “Lord help me, I don’t know where you get your manners. She’s here because she needed my help, same as you.”

Sam glanced back and forth between Y/N and Dean, confused. “I’m sorry, could someone fill me in?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Dean, turned to Sam and offered her hand. “I’m Y/N. I met Dean a couple of years back. He helped save me from a vampire. Then a few months ago we bumped into each other again.”

Sam shook her hand. “So you’re another a hunter?”

“Yes—”

“No,” Dean said firmly. “She’s just playing at one.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at Dean. “That’s not what you said at the asylum.”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind. You’re not a hunter. You should go back, go home, pretend none of this stuff happened,” Dean said, irritated.

Sam scoffed. “Yeah, right. Like we could forget everything that happened to us?”

Y/N nodded at Sam. That made Dean even more grumpy. “That’s not the point, Sam. Y/N’s only been in this shit for a couple of years. We’ve been in it our whole lives! She remembers what it’s like to be normal!”

The penny dropped for Y/N. Up until that moment, she hadn’t been sure what Sam was in this equation. Now she knew: he was Dean’s brother.

“So you lied to me,” Y/N said angrily. “You said you understood why I couldn’t go back.”

Dean scowled. Before he could say anything more, Missouri spoke up. “That’s enough out of you, all of you. We have business to attend to.”

Sam nodded. “Our old house. There’s something there. Something inside.”

Dean huffed. He was pissed. He was pissed and he was scared and God, he hated it. Sam was becoming increasingly weird. His father was avoiding them. And seeing that damned house….

Y/N glanced at him and something softened in her gaze. He wondered what she knew. He certainly didn’t tell her anything, but what if Missouri did? God…

Sam was relaying to Missouri what he sensed and dreamed. The older woman nodded and declared, “Let’s go see that house.”

“What about Y/N?” Dean asked, testy. He was so not having this.

“She can come with and don’t you sass me boy,” Missouri said, cutting off his protest. “This is a good learning experience for her. Plus, I think it’d help her solve her problem.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He was in Hell. Sam nudged him and pulled him close so they could talk quietly.

“Hey… what’s going on? What’s the big deal about Y/N?” Sam studied his older brother, the way he was clenching his jaw, evasive with his eyes.

Dean’s nostrils flared as he fought to keep his temper. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea she’s coming with. She’s practically a kid, Sam.”

Sam glanced over at Y/N, saw the way she carried herself. She was straight-backed and lean, with the measured movements of someone who learned to husband her energy.

“Is it true?” the younger Winchester asked.

Irritated, Dean scowled up at Sam. “Is what true?”

“That you accepted her being a hunter.”

More scowling. “Shut up, Sam. Let’s go.”

Seeing the Winchester house again so soon after their first visit must’ve been weird for Jenny, the new owner of the house. Missouri did everything she could to reassure the young mother, but Dean could tell Jenny was freaked.

Y/N on the other… While Missouri did her psychic crap, the young female hunter stayed quiet, looked around, even chatted up with Jenny.

So why the hell was Dean so mad? Well, that was unfortunately easy for him to understand. It was the house. It was seeing memories, ghosts of Christmas past.

He remembered his mother being upset with John on the phone and came over to reassure her that it would be okay. He’d hugged her, tried to take his mother’s heartache.

He’d been a goddamned child. He shouldn’t have had to do that, but he felt so responsible for them all.

Seeing Y/N in the midst of it was like a knife in the gut. He didn’t want her embroiled in any of this shit. Instead, she was, and he wanted to tear his hair out over it.

“You gonna tell me why you went to Missouri?” Dean asked, his voice low and rumbly. Y/N looked up and gave him a flat look. God, it should be a crime to look that hot while being coldly furious with him.

“I needed a psychic,” she said at last. “Missouri’s come up often when I looked into them. And she definitely nailed the issues I had before I even said them out loud.”

His smile was fleeting. Given how Missouri nailed Sam with the statement about his loss and got to Dean without him ever saying a word, he was inclined to believe Missouri was the one to talk to regarding the house’s history.

Missouri came back downstairs briskly. “There’s definitely some bad energy here. We got work to do.”

“What? Her too?” Dean asked in open exasperation regarding Y/N’s involvement.

He saw Y/N’s spine stuffed and was pleased at seeing her temper. Good. Maybe they could fight it out and it’ll turn into a make out session.

Missouri bopped him upside the head. “Act like a gentleman,” she said sharply. “I know your daddy didn’t teach you to be this rude.”

Dean cringed, rubbed his head and stared at Missouri. “I wasn’t doing anything!”

“But you were thinking it,” Missouri retorted. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think of that girl that way.”

He scowled at Missouri. Sam actually smirked as he came back to them. He liked seeing Missouri put Dean in his place, just a little bit. Dean scowled.

God. After this, he was going to want to drown a bit in beer and breasts. Maybe Y/N’s breasts. Then Missouri glared at him and he grabbed his libido and shoved it back into a box. He seemed to have to do that a lot when Y/N was around.

Y/N’s gaze shifted between Dean and Missouri and smirked. “Do I want to know?”

“I’d say something but she might smack me again,” Dean grumbled. He wanted to flirt. Something to distract himself. However, Missouri was putting a kibosh on all his favorite activities and distractions.

Her smile widened and her eyes sparkled. Y/N really had gorgeous eyes. He’d forgotten. “You’re scared of her. More scared than you were with the vampire or the ghost.”

“I’m not scared,” he protested.

“Uh huh.”

“I’m not!”

Y/N was laughing as she walked away. Damn, she had a nice ass.

It didn’t take much to convince Jenny to get her to take the kids out for a movie and give them time to cleanse the house of the stubborn poltergeist.

Seeing Y/N walk around his childhood home gave Dean a funny feeling, like his chest was being compressed. He didn’t like it. He honestly did not do well dealing with feelings. Like John, he just sat on it until he blew up.

He couldn’t do that this time. He couldn’t blow up, he couldn’t sit on it. It festered and gnawed at him. God, he couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.

Y/N kept looking at him and he twitched under her inscrutable gaze.

“What?!” he asked, snapping irritably.

Y/N shook her head and that made it worse.

“Then quit looking at me like that,” he said, grumpy as Missouri mixed whatever the hell it was they needed to cast the poltergeist out.

“Dean,” Sam said, trying to deflect and calm his brother.

“It’s all right, Sam,” Y/N said gently. She looked back at Dean. “It’s about your mom, isn’t it?”

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. “How the hell did you know that? Did Sam tell you?” God, if his baby brother blabbed, Dean was gonna punch him one.

Missouri rolled her eyes at the toxic display of machismo and kept on working. Her mix was almost ready.

“God, no,” Y/N said with exasperation in every breath. “I read up on it. I…” She glanced over at Missouri, then back at the brothers. “I’ve been doing a lot of research.”

“Great. Another book nerd.” She really was like a female Sam.

Y/N was undeterred. “Things about poltergeists and ghosts and how they connect to what’s left behind. Which meant reading about traumatic deaths, murders… unusual deaths.”

Comprehension dawned in Sam’s eyes. “And you found out about our mom.”

“Yes. I knew this was your home,” Y/N said gently.

Dean’s jaw clenched tightly.

“I went to Missouri for more information about spirits in particular. I guess I wanted to understand the afterlife or at least life after death,” Y/N said carefully.

Missouri looked up at Y/N and there was a look that read she knew more about Y/N’s motives than she was admitting. Dean saw it, knew it’d take a stallion or something to drag it out of the psychic.

“The Winchester fire and… what happened to your mother… came up in my reading,” Y/N said finally.

“So what do you think?” Sam asked curiously, like an eager puppy.

Y/N considered it. “It’s not your mom,” she said at last. “I think there’s another reason why there’s a poltergeist here. Maybe it was drawn to the violent death, drove out all the previous owners and tenants.”

Missouri quirked a brow. “Are you sure you’re not psychic too?”

“No offense, Missouri,” Y/N said with a weak smile. “I really hope not.”

“Same. You don’t wanna know what’s in that boy’s mind,” Missouri said with a nod to Dean.

Dean bristled, but kept quiet. Sam nudged him as if to convince him to talk, and Dean shoved him back hard. Sam laughed.

Y/N gave Dean a thoughtful look and somehow he felt naked in that moment. Not a good naked; the scary kind where he was 4 years old again and watching his mother die.

He cleared his throat and nodded. “Let’s go get to work,” he said roughly.

They thought it was over. Sam knew better. Despite Dean’s misgivings, the brothers—and Y/N—were camped out in the Impala. The initial cleansing worked, Dean insisted. Sam believed otherwise.

Y/N offered to come with because she was curious about them. Dean was super-irritated. Bad enough he had to help wrangle his brother free from a cord choking him, smash holes in the wall and dump Missouri’s poltergeist dust into the wall. Oh no, they had to come back and keep a watch out because Sam had a ‘feeling’.

So much beer after this.

Then they saw it: Jenny pounding on the upstairs window. The trio spilled out of the Impala running for the house. Dean had to kick in the door, barked an order for Sam and Y/N to grab Sari and Richie while he grabbed Jenny.

Dean got Jenny out quickly, only to realize Sam still hadn’t come back down. He was about to run up when Y/N came out with both kids.

“Where’s Sam?” he demanded from Y/N.

“He handed me Richie and told me to run,” Y/N said, breathless. “Dean, something has him!”

Dean wasted no more time. His father’s voice echoed in his head, ordering him to take Sam and run. He’d been tasked to keep his brother safe and by God, he would.

Y/N was right behind him. For once he was grateful to not face this alone.

Before they could regroup, a woman’s voice echoed through the room. “Leave them alone!”

The figure of Mary Winchester appeared, her presence radiant and protective. She stood between the trio and the poltergeist, her gaze fierce.

“Mom?” Dean’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Mary didn’t look at him, her focus solely on the spirit. “You don’t belong here,” she said firmly. The poltergeist shrieked, its form twisting and writhing as Mary’s light engulfed it. With one final cry, it vanished.

The room fell silent. Mary turned to her sons, her expression softening. “Dean. Sam.”

Dean stepped forward, his voice breaking. “Mom?”

“You’ve grown so much,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I’m so proud of you both.”

Sam’s voice trembled. “Why are you here?”

Mary’s form began to fade. “To protect you. To protect them.” She glanced at them, her eyes full of love.

And with that, she was gone.

The silence in the room was deafening. Dean’s hands clenched into fists, his emotions warring within him. Sam placed a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Y/N broke the silence. “We should check on Jenny and the kids.”

Dean nodded, his jaw tight. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Missouri was waiting for them at her home that night. Her knowing eyes met Dean’s, and she nodded. “She did what she needed to do.”

Dean’s voice was rough. “She shouldn’t have had to.”

Missouri placed a hand on his arm. “Sometimes, love is stronger than anything else. Even death.”

Dean was mulling that as he walked Y/N to her car. Her vehicle was a Honda Elsment, compact but designed to use space well. “So… how much you wanna punch me?”

Y/N actually snorted. Absurdly, he found that appealing. “Earlier, I really wanted to.” Her gaze softened, just a bit. “Not so much after that.”

“I still don’t like you being a hunter. I’ll be honest. Don’t do it, Y/N.” Dean looked pained, “Go back to your life.”

”I can’t, Dean,” she said quietly. Damn it. She had that soft voice that just cut through him. “I can’t live in ignorance or pretend this isn’t happening.”

He shook his head. “You’re stubborn.”

“Back atcha, Winchester.”

He quirked a half smile. “First time we met, you kissed me. Second time, I let you walk away.”

Her brows swooped up and she smiled. “And the third time?”

He barely let her finish before he framed her face with his hands and captured her lips in a kiss. In the midst of it as he explored her mouth, tasted her, he felt her hands slide up his chest.

When he eventually broke the kiss, when he finally let her go, he smirked at her. “Can’t wait to see what happens when I see you again, Y/N.”

She let out a breath, her cheeks flushed. “What makes you so sure we’ll see each other again?”

He grinned. “Call it a hunch, sweetheart.”

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl

(If I added you to a tag list you did not want to be a part of, feel free to send me a message and I’ll remove you. Or comment here. Same with being added! As always, reblogs, likes, and feedback are always welcomed!)

[rainyraisin]

The most I've wrote of Reticent in the past couple of days is some Mikey and Raph banter I wrote whilst at the cinema which I only stopped writing cause some kids around my age sat behind me and I got scared

Being a writer is so great!!!!

[twilight-blaze]

cannot stop thinking about how if Hope is your party leader for the final fight against Orphan, his voice line at the start of the fight is a determined "this is for you, mom." I'm going to fucking cry

[aroacettorney]

love how ludger rejecting divinity means so fuckin little because even if he is not a "proper" god hes still the most op and successful character in the entire multiverse

[cowboy-robooty]

me when i read the gay porn genre comics and get mad theres gay porn

[skeletons-in-ur-closet]

this isnt the account for this i KNOW but jjk just ended and it was the worst thing ive ever read oh my daysssss

[rose-lalondde]

every time i read a Drop of Poison the most jaw-dropping shit happens

[musical-chick-13]

This transitory scene needs to be here, but my GOD, I don't want to fucking write it.

[boobertronian]

MUAY THAI - PART 2

Nayeon x M/Reader

Continuation of Jihyo’s Chapter

Proofread by @vorrentis, big thanks for some ideations by @authorhjk1

Word counts : 7805 words

All works are fiction

ENJOY !

“Music playing”

Kangnam : “ That’s a wrap! Yayy! Thanks for being here Nayeon and Jihyo! Your voices are a-ma-zing!"

Nayeon: "Ohh you’re very welcome Kangnam-Sunbaenim! We really enjoyed this recording!”

Jihyo: "I hope we can collab again soon!"

Kangnam: "I'm looking forward to that! See you later girls!"

Jihyo and Nayeon walk back to their dressing room

Jihyo : “ whew that was long, at least it’s done for the day”

Nayeon: "Yeah I'm hungry now, I wanna go home and watch Arcane, Kookeu is waiting for me at home too, I miss my little baby”

Jihyo: "Yeah right Unnie, you always miss Kookeu lol. But anyway, come by my house tomorrow, I have something to show you”

Nayeon: "What? It’s weekend! I just wanna lay in bed and sleep! It’s been a while I have a weekend off!”

Jihyo: "Trust me unnie, this “souvenir” of mine won’t let you down hehe”

Nayeon: "Ughhhh, fine, better be something good, if not I'm gonna take your stuffs as compensation!”

Jihyo: "See ya tomorrow unnie, and be one time okay, don’t leave me hanging!"

THE NEXT DAY

DING DONG

.

.

SQUEAK

Jihyo: “Well look who’s finally here, it’s cool, you’re only late for like two hours in a half. What took you so long?"

Nayeon: “I got up late, I accidentally bump myself to Kookeu’s plate, he made a mess, I gotta clean it, then I had to change, eat my food and...“

Jihyo: "Okay okay, sheesh unnie, you’re like a kid sometimes, gotta be more careful with your stuffs, I can’t believe we used to live in the same dorm back then”

Nayeon: "Oh my god MOM, stop nagging and let me in, I got you pizzas, ain’t that enough?"

Jihyo: "Seriously unnie, you’re a handful, come on in, don’t want you to make more noises outside”

Jihyo and Nayeon set up their picnic table and turning on Netflix, Nayeon wants keep binging Arcane but Jihyo wants to watch REAL STEEL, but they end up choosing Transformers instead.

Halfway through the movie, both of them already finished their food, Jihyo is sitting down on the floor while Nayeon is lying on the sofa, but suddenly jihyo pauses the movie and turns to Nayeon.

Nayeon: “Hey? What happened? We’re about to see those Deceptive...whatever those guys name are!”

Jihyo: "You wanna see the “souvenir“ I wanna show you unnie? It’s gonna turn things up a notch hehe.“

Nayeon: "Whatever Jihyo, show it to me quick so I can keep watching fighting robots!"

Jihyo: "Gimme a sec, you’ll love it hehe~”

Jihyo walks fast to her room and pull out her Ipad, and then walks back again to Nayeon where she lazily gets up from the sofa

Nayeon: "Don’t tell me you’re gonna show me that episode of Seobja. I watched it already.”

Jihyo: "Oh no, this is wayyy better than that, just open the video and see for yourself“ Jihyo said while smiling wide.

The clip starts and Nayeon leaned back in the cushion.

Nayeon: "Hey wait a minute, is this some sort of...what is it .. oh yeah Muay Thai training? Why are those guys...half naked? And why are you in the middle of those four?"

Jihyo: "Keep watching unnie.”

Nayeon and Jihyo keep on watching.

The clips recorded Jihyo’s entire “training” with the four guys, each of them fucking her holes out while Nayeon gasping, her hearts beating fast each second seeing Jihyo being ravaged in many positions.

The clip ends with Nayeon, eyes widening, still quite shocked from what she just watched Nayeon: "So...you’re telling me...that delays you told us was a lie? And you got fucked? By all those guys? Even that cameraman?"

Jihyo: "Yep! All my holes were filled! I accidentally kicked the trainer in the nuts and blew him out first for compensation, the other guys joined and yeh, all my holes were wrecked and filled. My body smelled like cum walking out that facility that day, I was goddamn sore too but it was worth it hehe.”

Nayeon: "Isn’t that why you said you’re “extra happy” finishing the filming over there and somewhat “high adrenaline“.

Jihyo: “Yup! Don’t you see, those guys are so buff and high stamina they kept fucking me for rounds lol I didn’t even want them to stop but we had to wrap up and they all K.Oed after that last bit, so I had to leave right after. But I got their numbers.“

Nayeon: "Their numbers?"

Jihyo : “Yeh, I still chat to them once in a while, they’re cool dudes, fuck good, nice personality, so why not hehe. Aren’t you jealous I got to spend time with some buff dudes stretching my holes out? (Giggles)”

Nayeon: "No I'm nottt !! But well yeh I do, I haven’t fucked in a while now, comebacks and all...you make me feel horny !!"

Jihyo: "Oh I know you’re always horny for buff guys, but I don’t think you can handle these ones, you’re so...soft~”

Nayeon: "Excuse me! I can handle dicks okay, you’re not the only one who does workout regularly, I'm tough too ya know! Don’t you see how well maintained I was during comebacks, and I still am okay!”

Jihyo: "Well alright then, you wanna compete? Whoever has a better sex tape gets to pay the other person’s rents for three months! I bet ya won’t even last that long with those guys let alone being fucked in all your holes.”

Nayeon: “Oh yeah? You’re on! Gimme their location and I'll prove you soooo wrong !! You’re gonna regret challenging Im Nayeon for this !!!”

Jihyo: “DEAL!"

LATER THAT NIGHT

Jihyo (texting) “ hey guys what’s up!"

Anurak: "Well isn’t it our “friend” Twice Jihyo! What’s up!"

Chakan: "Are you gonna “ visiting” us again?"

Chalerm: "please?"

Jihyo: "lol no, I have bad news for you. I won’t go there this time, got some schedules coming up “

Anurak: "Oh..ok..”

Chalerm : sad icon

Chakan : crying icon

Jihyo: "But I also have some good news, you know Nayeon right?"

Anurak: "Yes of course! What about her?”

Jihyo: "I gave her your address, she’ll be coming over there around the end of this month”

Chakan: "the IM Nayeon is coming here?"

Chalerm: "Wtf, is it for real? We love her !! Her latest comeback was hot.“

Jihyo: "Ohhh really ???? Well then, I guess I hope you guys will treat her well then hehe”

Anurak: "What do you mean by treat? Like help her practice? For a new show? Or something else?"

Jihyo: ""Something“ else, if you guys know what I mean, and I want you to give her the best “ training session “ you can come up with hehe”

Chakan: "Oh yehhhhhh we will, we’ll “ treat” her very very well for sure “

Chalerm: "We’ll show her some "moves” she’ll never forget”

Jihyo: "lol you horny boys, well then, have funnnnnn”

2 weeks later

Nayeon got off the plane and did her best to call the taxi, finally getting to her hotel.

She dosed off right at the moment her body hits the bed.

3 hours later

Nayeon: "Okay let’s see, this facility isn’t too far I guess, hopefully Jihyo didn’t troll me on this if not I'm gonna wreck her, but first gotta cover myself up, don’t wanna attract too many attention around here.”

Despite the hot weather, Nayeon manages to cover herself enough with a huge sunglasses and dress, calls a taxi and ready to go for the facility.

20 min later

Nayeon: "Oh my god that was longer than I thought, sheesh, in this hot weather I might melt like an ice cream. Thanks for not warning me Jihyo.”

Nayeon slowly walks to the door of the facility and walks up the stairs, suddenly a loud noise startle her.

"BAM” "WHACK” “POW”

“1-2-3 COMBO!"“ KNEE STRIKES!""ELBOW STRIKES!” KICK! ANOTHER KICK!”

Nayeon calms herself a bit, slowly removing her sunglasses, steps onto the mat and accidentally slips on the skipping rope.

"Ouch” - Nayeon blurts out

Anurak, surprised by her voice, stops his other two subordinates : "Excuse me miss? Who are you? Are you here for training sessions ? We’re closing early today so you might have to come back tomorrow. Very sorry about that.”

Nayeon, speaks in a shy voice “ Hi.. uh...my friend...Jihyo, introduced me to the place and said I can give it a try with Muay Thai here...am i...interrupting you?"

Chakan: "Oh no miss, we’re ending our session soon too, so you’re not interrupting “

Chalerm: "Are you a friend of Jihyo? We knew her from her last traveling show. Are you here for that as well?"

Nayeon: "Oh no no! I'm just a visitor, I don’t go here for any show at all, just wanna visit the place since Jihyo talked about it A LOT...I'm Nayeon btw, nice to meet you!"

Anurak: "Ohhhhhhh, you’re Nayeon ???? Like Im Nayeon of Twice??"

Chakan and Chalerm, can’t hide their excitement, speaks out loud in Thai: "She’s here !!"

Nayeon: "I'm sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier, I only want to go on this trip on my own so I had to...you know .. remain quite secretive a bit!"

Anurak: "Well now you’re here !! We three are your fans and you’re our big bias since the beginning, and we love your recent comebacks !!!”

Nayeon blush, shyly reply: "Well thank you! But since you’re closing doors soon, I guess I have to come back tomorrow then? I'm sorry I was late, quite a long flight and hot weather made me fell asleep “

Anurak: "Oh no no, we will still close the doors, but we can give you some extra time! Anything for our fav Twice member!”

Nayeon: "Oh sweet !! But...I don’t have any gears and such...only my sports clothes...is that ok...“ Anurak: "Oh that won’t be a problem, we have everything here! And we have some spare clean trousers for beginners too! If you buy two get 1 free!"

Nayeon: "Oh okay then! I'm gonna go change myself! See you in a bit !

While Nayeon goes to the lockers, the three fighters whisper in Thai

Anurak: "Fuck, she’s hot! She’s even prettier outside than on youtube!”

Chakan: "Yehhhh coach !!! I nearly got a boner hearing her sweet voice let alone seeing her in gears!”

Chalerm: "What should we do now coach, we’ll just “train” her like how we did it with Jihyo?"

Anurak: "just do that first, and we’ll see how it goes hehe. After all, we have ALL NIGHT with her “

The three giggle while Nayeon walking out, in her sport bra and black trouser, ready for action.

Nayeon then goes through the same training routine like Jihyo, but unlike Jihyo, she’s rather sloppy and a slow learner, and it takes her a while for the basics.

Nayeon :” uh .. coach ? Which leg comes in front ..? Uh .. is it this leg .. or this one ?” Nayeon keeps asking while her body shakes in confusions.

Anurak :” oh left leg in front and right leg behind ! Strong stance ok Nayeon ? Don’t twist your body too much . Yes that’s it , now you’re ready for some punches ?”

Nayeon :” uh .. yes coach ..!”

Anurak :” let’s go ! Gives me the hardest one you can go ! “

But even her strikes are quite weak compared to Jihyo.

WHACK

Anurak : "Harder ! Jab straight to the pad !"

THUMP WHACK THUMP

Nayeon : " omg oww !!"

Anurak : " Time for Knee strikes ! Go now !"

Nayeon : " Ok ok I'm trying !!"

THUMP

Anurak : " Faster ! Don't loose your balance ! One more time !"

THUMP

Nayeon : " omg my knee !"

Anurak : " Now give me your kicks ! "

WHACK

Nayeon, after her kick, slips herself to the ring floor : " ouchhhh!"

Anurak : " You're ok ?"

Nayeon : " uh .... coachhhhh !! It's too hard !! Can we please go ... very light & slow ? My body is still shaking from the punches ... "

Anurak :" oh ok. Well then we'll just go very light next round then. Take 5 and we'll continue !"

Nayeon : " uggghhhh... ok coach ..."

Anurak (thinking) : " Man, she is surely different, this is gonna take a while."

An hour passed by Nayeon (talks while panting): "Hey coach, can we...stop and...call it a day? I think...my entire body...is sore now, I didn’t know...Muay Thai...is this taxing…”

Anurak: "Oh sure, I think you’re already had most of the basics already, but it’s a tough sport! Not everyone can do this! Took us a while to get to this level!"

Nayeon: "Well then...You mind...if i...go to the lockers...i need to...catch my breath...and put on...some salonpas”

Anurak: "Sure Nayeon, we’ll clean up the place and wait for you out here, take your time!"

Chakan ( in thai): "Damn man she’s weak, no wonder Jihyo kept teasing her in our chats”

Chalerm (in thai) : “Yeh dude, not sure if she even last let alone...having that “session” with us, unlike Jihyo”

Anurak (in thai): "You two wait here, I'll go in and check if she needs anything, go clean up the gears and wait for us”

Meanwhile, Nayeon sits down on the bench panting: "Goddamn it Jihyo, you didn’t tell me this thing is that draining, how the fuck am I gonna spend...that other session with those three, my body so sore now I can barely move”

Knock knock

Nayeon: ”who’s there? I'm okay no worries!”

Anurak: "Oh it’s me Anurak, just wanna check if anything okay? May I come in?"

Nayeon: "Oh yeh sure...I'm okay...just sore that’s all.. but I got some water and rested a bit...so I feel a bit better now...but my arms and legs are sore ..”

Anurak: ”oh really? Hmmm? You mind if I check if you have any injuries? Beginners tend to have small injuries that they don’t know yet until the next few days so just wanna make sure? Would you mind if I do that for you?"

Nayeon (thinking): "Oh shit, she’s gonna examine my body, but...oh well...I'm too sore to do anything anw...a checkup won’t hurt...don’t wanna spend the next days with broken limbs “

Nayeon: "Okay, if you say so, please do, and please be gentle, I'm very sore”

Anurak: "Absolutely! Now how about you lay yourself face down on this massage bench and I'll take a look okay?"

Nayeon then lying down on the massage table, face down, relaxing herself, while Anurak taking some plastic gloves to start checking, moving his hands to her back and shoulders

Anurak: "Okay let’s see, shoulders are fine, no sign of injuries, also the traps and back muscles, pretty much tense, but no sign of heavy damage”

Nayeon (thinking): "Whew, at least that part done, but omg his hands are big and rough, but...why do I feel .. good letting him touching me...holy shit .. is this the adrenaline thing Jihyo talks about?"

Anurak, slowly moving his hands down to her pelvis, smoothly checking her lumbar spines, then moves slowly to her hamstrings and butt cheeks, feeling her soft pale skin, down to her calves. He does it slowly like he’s treating a national treasure, moving his hand on her slim frame just to make sure he doesn’t miss anything

Anurak: “Okay so, hamstrings are okay, tense but no tear whatsoever, same with calves, firm .. sorry, tense but no damage, nothing much beside tense muscles, I think this side of yours are FINE Nayeon”

Anurak(thinking) : “Damn fine too, fuck, I might have a huge boner touching her like this, her ass and skin are fuckin hot”

Anurak: “would you mind if I check your front too Nayeon? Would be good if I can touch...i mean check on if there’s any injuries?"

Nayeon: "Oh .. sure...you can touch...i mean check my front too, please”

Nayeon (thinking): "Holy fuck, my heart is racing, only his hands already made me feel like this, shit, no wonder Jihyo let them fuck her all the way, and I'm not gonna lose to her. Fuck, I think I can handle this.”

Nayeon rolls to the front, and Anurak continues with his "Checkup” by moving his hands slowly from her neck lines, and then to her skinny biceps, and lastly, to her meaty thighs. Each parts Anurak takes his time to savor the fairness of her skin while...doing his best to control his huge boner.

Anurak (thinking): "At this rate I might as well fuck her for real, just like how Jihyo did, but I can’t let it be too obvious, gotta stay calm.”

Anurak: "Okay Nayeon, can you lift your legs up and bend your knees? So I can check if you have any tear in your meniscus and such?"

Nayeon: "Okay sure”.

She slowly does it, exposing the curvy underside of her legs, making Anurak’s eyes drooling with lust

Nayeon: "Am I all good? Did I tear anything?”

Anurak, snaps back to his reality: "oh yes.. I mean No, nothing serious Nayeon, you’re only having tense muscles that’s all, no sign of injuries or anything too serious, if you rest up a few days you’ll be good”

Nayeon: "Okay, phew, I thought that training nearly drained the hell out of me, but I'm feeling better hearing that. Thanks Anurak”

But suddenly, Nayeon’s palm, while trying to get up, grab onto something that is both soft and hard at the same time. She turns to her left, her tiny palm is on top of Anurak’s bulge, and it’s getting bigger the more she holds it

Nayeon: "Oh shit, sorry Anurak I didn’t mean to!”

Anurak: "It’s okay Nayeon !! It’s an accident, no need to be shame about it ,it’s not that you INTENTIONALLY touch it”

Nayeon: "What should I do, sheesh my clumsy hands, I'll make it up to you then, this is awkward!”

Nayeon keeps talking while Anurak’s bulge are gettin bigger

Anurak: "Well, there’s this “ exercises “

Nayeon: "Will that help you to, you know, calm down? If so I'm gladly to help, you helped me checking up on my body, it’s my turn to return the favor”

Anurak: "Sure Nayeon, we can start...with you helping me removing my trouser”

Nayeon ( thinking): "Hell yeh, let’s see how big his dick is, I'm dying to see it like forever now” Nayeon and Anurak slowly move to the locker bench, and in one sweep she removed his trousers easily, making his dick pop out, tapping her face a bit, making her giggles cutely

Anurak, using his best to speak calmly: "Okay Nayeon, now what I want you to do is to use your palm and move slowly along my dick, it will "help” me calm down and I will ease up from the bone...tense here.”

Nayeon (thinking): "this guy lol, he thinks idk how to stroke a dick? Ain’t the first time I'm doing this, especially in lockers, alright then, I'm gonna give him the real POP of his life”.

Then, not wasting any time, Nayeon moves her palm slowly along his dick, at first gentle, back and forth, touching his balls along the way, but in time, she picks up the pace, forcefully bobbing her head up & down.

Anurak: “Fuck Nayeon, holy shit, did you try this technique before? Or are you just being a quick learner?”

Nayeon: "Oh I know this technique coach, I already did this MANY times.”

Anurak: "Well then, I guess you...know what to do next? It would help A LOT more.”

Nayeon: "Oh sureeeee, I'll help you eaaaaasseee up your tenseness, you will love itt!!!”

Suddenly, Nayeon, in a quick succession, open her mouth and starts wrapping her sexy lips onto his big cock, moving her head in and out to his crotch, sucking deep strokes to the base of his dicks, deep throating herself while looking up to Anurak’s pleasure filled face

Anurak (thinking ): "Fuck, holy shit she’s good, she’s too good, could be even better than Jihyo, holy fuck I don’t think I'll last long, she’s too good at this”

Nayeon, continues her blows, teasing Anurak by slowly pulling out from his dick, then suck it straight in again. She does it so quickly that Anurak starts to moan out loud in his own language

Anurak: "Fuccck Nayeon, I'm gonna .. I'm gonna cum...can’t hold it much longer...fuckkk ..!!” And in blink of an eye, Anurak pulls out his dick, stroking himself heavily, cumming hard onto Nayeon’s beautiful face, onto her nose, cheeks and onto her opening tongue, leaving huge blobs of cum onto Twice’s center.

Nayeon, taking her fingers and taste the cum on her face: "Oooh, you taste good coach !! I like itttt! Did it help you to ease up your tenseness?"

Anurak, panting hard while dropping his butt straight down to the bench, speaks out: "Yess .. Nayeon .. omg...it’s too good...oh fuck.. you made me cum...very hard...how did...you do that..”

Nayeon: "I have my ways, and I definitely knows it better than Jihyo (laugh out loud)

“Then you wouldn’t mind try it on us too?"

Suddenly a voice coming up, it’s Chakan and Chalerm, standing over the far right lockers, with their hard dicks out in the air, trousers down to their ankles, stroking them hard with their hands

Nayeon: "Wait, you guys were here all this time? When?"

Chalerm: "We were standing here since coach knocked on the door to check you out, we just sneaked in and been staying behind these lockers”

Chakan: "You’re too hot Nayeon, you’re our bias and we‘ve been fanboying you hard since the beginning, seeing you coming through the doors just making us do horny for you! You’re too pretty and too hot in those gears”

Anurak, still panting, but speaks out slowly: "They’re right Nayeon...since the day...jihyo sent us notices .. that you’ll come here...We were too excited...we couldn’t train properly…. We couldn’t resist you...let alone...seeing you in here...training...while wearing those gears...”

Chakan: "Coach is right...we intentionally closing the facility sooner than usual just to let you spending time with us only, we don’t wanna miss this chance”

Nayeon: "So Jihyo already let you know about my flight? And my visit here? So you were just pretending to be surprised all this time without telling me?"

Chalerm: "We’re sorry, it just, you’re a big star and we don’t have time to travel to see you in concert, and we couldn’t spend that much money for front seats, so this might be our only chances seeing you...we’re very sorry we didn’t tell you”

Nayeon, stays quiet for a bit, the atmosphere in the room suddenly getting tense due to it, making the three fighters feeling awkward, but out of the sudden Nayeon giggles and then laugh out loud.

Nayeon: "Oh my gosh guys, you could’ve said it earlier!!! Sheesh, the reason why I got here was because I saw your vid fucking the hell out of jihyo in all her holes, fuck that was hard, I even asked her to let me save that clip so I can touch myself to if, you guys are buff and hot as fuck, definitely my types hehe~”

Anurak: "So you’re saying, you’re kinda knew this all along? But you’re also kinda go with the flow?"

Nayeon: "Duhhh! I was afraid those tense trainings gonna let me waste my time dragging my lazy self here, but then seein your dick and these two dicks making me wayyyyyyy better now !! Don’t you see how I suck your dick? I just wanna compete with Jihyo who’s gonna last and make the best out of this, therefore, don’t hide anything from me anymore got it?"

Chakan: "So...Nayeon .. will you...uh...you know...let us do the “training” with you the way we did with Jihyo?"

Nayeon: "Hell yeah!" I'm here to get fucked, and I won’t leave the place until my holes are FUCKED properly, so yeh, do your best, I'm gonna stay as much as I want to here”

Chalerm: "Wooooaaaaa,fuckk yeahhh””

Nayeon: "But first, you guys have a shower here? I wanna get out of this mess, and it’s fuckin hot, so I'm gonna really need that shower, asap”

Anurak: "Sure! There’s a shower next to the lockers, right on your left, we’ll let you go clean up and...”

Nayeon, cut his words by putting her fingers onto his mouth, smiling widely: "I didn’t say I'll go alone did i? So...don’t you wanna join me?"

All three together: "FUCK YEAH”

Nayeon laugh a bit, and then rises up walking fast towards the shower, intentionally wiggling her ass for the three guys to see, trying to partially do her ABCD dance, albeit more lewd and sexually teasing.

Nayeon then removing her sports bra, turning her head back a bit to blow an air kiss to the guys, taking her left hand to cover her tits, with her fingers making signs for the three to follow.

The three guys, getting too horny, ripping out their clothes and following her straight to the shower, where Nayeon standing there, trousers down to her feet and starting to removing her underpants, showing them her entire naked body, with her fair skin "Decorated “ by the water running all over from head to toes, her round tits showing, her sexy tummy and her pussy lips baring, and her plump cheeks are waiting to be fucked.

The three guys are getting too horny, rip out their clothes and follow her straight to the shower, where Nayeon is standing there, trousers down to her feet and starting to removing her underpants, showing them her entire naked body, with her fair skin "Decorated “ by the water running all over from head to toes, her round tits showing, her sexy tummy and her pussy lips baring, and her plump cheeks are waiting to be fucked.

As Nayeon turns on the the water knob for some cold water, since it helps to ease up the muscle soreness, she turns back, bare all naked in front of the guys, asking them : “The water is quite cold, don’t you guys wanna "Heat “ it up with me? Don’t leave a girl waiting !!”

The three, can’t control their bodies, starting to reach their hands out to Nayeon body, groping her juicy thighs, moving their large palms to her tits and groping them, while some other hands moving along her back, straight to her abs and waist.

Another pair of hands, kneading her plump butt cheeks, while moving down to her soft pussy, somewhat fingering the her entrance, and of course, that tiny anus of her, even with the slippery water their hands don’t seem to have any troubles grabbing her body parts, making Nayeon moans.

Nayeon (thinking): "Omg, their hands are groping me...so good...they’re gonna fuck me hard and I want i...you wait jihyo...I'm gonna drain these guys as hard as you do.. BUT BETTER”

Nayeon then suddenly drops down to her knees, with water keep pouring onto her body, looking at the three hard dicks in front of her and sharing a smile.

With that, she starts using her tiny palms to touch each of the shafts simultaneously, with her fingers moving along the lengths, starting from the tip to the bases of their dicks, and she doesn’t forget grabbing their balls either, making the guys moans with each strokes.

Nayeon, with the best of her abilities, opens her mouth widely and wraps to a dick on her left, sucking it in and out in long strokes, while her hands still massaging the other dicks to get them prepared.

After a few sec, she switches her mouth to the one in the middle, leaving no break time, doing the same thing from the first one, and lastly, the one on the other side. Their dicks are huge, but for Nayeon they are her treats, with her mouth is working tirelessly between the 3 , sucking long strokes and even let herself gagging on them.

Nayeon does her best to mimick Jihyo, not leaving any dicks behind, but since she loves oral sex, she just makes things even lewder, by not simply sucks one dick at a time and alternates between them, but, she opens her mouth as big as she can to suck two at the same time, making the guys shocked to their souls and shouting out: "Woooooaaaa Nayeon, you’re really the best! I...we...we don’t think...we could hold our cum...any longer...!!””

Nayeon, hearing their compliments, pulls out from their dicks and answers right away: "I know I am !! So, are you guys gonna give me, your bias huge loads of cum in her mouth and face or not hehe? I'm waiting!”

The three guys: "Fuckkkk yessss!!”

And with that, they reach their climaxes, starting with Chakan cum straight to Nayeon left cheek and a bit to her hair strands, following by Chalerm on the right side on her cheek and a bit to her forehead, finishing with Anurak going forward to her nose and opening lips

Nayeon, while bare opening her eyes due to the water and the cum, fulfilled her first task of today, even with the water kinda wash away the cum, she doesn’t mind a bit, since, this won’t be the last cum she’ll get for the day.

The three guys helping her standing up, still taking time to recover from their cum.

But then one guy turns Nayeon back to his front, slowly teasing his dick to her pussy.

Nayeon, guessing it’s Anurak ,asking out: "Are you gonna do it? Are you gonna put you big dick inside me?"

Anurak replies: "Yes Nayeon,I'm gonna fuck your beautiful pussy now!”

Nayeon blurts out loudly with no care in the world: "Then what are you guys waiting for?Lunar New Year ???? FUCK ME! RUIN MY HOLES! ALL OF IT! CUM INSIDE AND ON ME AS MUCH AS YOU CAN, I DON’T CARE, I WON’T LET YOU STOP UNTIL YOU FILL ALL MY HOLES AND I'M LEAVING THIS PLACE WITH A CUM FILLED BODY!!!”

Anurak then gives signs for his two men to set up a tripod with Nayeon’s phone, starting to film this entire sinful act that she and the guys will do, per her request.

Then, Anurak, with all his might, starts pounding Nayeon hard from behind, making her from small moans to loud scream, with the cold water pouring down all over the four of them.

Nayeon, in her messy state, screaming out “ HARDER! FUCK THAT PUSSY HARDER!"While trying to lean forward to grab the other two cocks, still stroking while being wrecked by their coach.

Then, Anurak, let Nayeon down to her knees, pushes her head down gently, ass up face down to the floor, put his cock into her hole again and keep on pounding.

Nayeon, feels full of pleasure, screaming out loudly.

Being fucked like this is even better than what she can imagine.

Anurak, getting close to his limit, tensing himself, cum straight into Nayeon’s hole, loudly and proudly.

Slaps her ass a few times, he slowly pulls out, his thick cum flowing out from her vagina, mixing with the water, letting Nayeon stays like this a bit while he backs himself to the wall resting.

Chakan and Chalerm, been waiting for their turns, pull Nayeon up to the middle of the shower place, dragging her slightly so she can walk a bit after the hard pounding.

Then, Chalerm, laying down flat to the watery floor, his dick stands straight up to the ceiling, along with with Chakan, guides Nayeon sits onto his cock, but this time, not into her pussy, straight to her anus, leaving Nayeon eyes rolling out and scream so loud :"FUCKKKKK !!! MY ASS! Fuck my ass !!! Now !!!"

Chakan with his horniness is reaching its peak, kneeling down to his knees, slowly pushes his big dick into her pussy.

At first it was quite hard with the position, but it’s getting easier as Nayeon relaxes herself a bit, and the two guys piston her wildly in tantrum, making Nayeon a mess between the two.

The two cocks keeps on pumping in and out, leaving Nayeon scream her lungs out, while Anurak is standing from the side, taking the camera closely to film their sinful acts together.

Chakan then stuffs his big lengthy dick inside Nayeon’s pussy, taking the advantage of being on top, keeps ramming in hardly, while Chalerm, with his dick inside Nayeon’s asshole, trying his very best to match his partner, moving his hips in and out to feel the warmth of her anus hole.

After a few moments of pumping, they blurt out together: “I’m cumming !!”

Nayeon: "YESS! Cummm in meee !!!!! Fucking fill meee!"

And the two cum straight in her pussy and her anus.

Her holes, tighten up during climax, squirting out and mixing with their juices.When the two fighters both pull out, water just mix everything together into a sinful mess of human fluids, leaking out from Nayeon’s sore holes.

Nayeon, in her messy but watery state, moans out loudly: "Heyyyy, we should continueeee !!! I want to get filled more !!! The water keeps washing away all your cumm leaking out from my holes !!! Keep goinggg, i’m not gonna be weak and losing to Jihyo on this oneeee !!”

Anurak: "Well then Nayeon, we will fuck your holes until we run dry, we will fill you as much as we can! Considering this another training!"

Nayeon, as she’s still sitting butt flat on the shower floor, suddenly being picked up, and the fucking just getting started.

From being pinned to the wall by Anurak, Nayeon is having her entire front being mashed to the walls, pussy being filled and rammed with Anurak’s dick, in and out hardly without any stops. Anurak is also making sure he’s “jabbing” deeply into her tight walls, full of forces and velocity, with his bias moans out his name in between thrusts.

For a moment later, with herself being on all four, Anurak slides in and out of Nayeon’s asshole, while she’s being deep throated by either Chakan or Chalerm in the front, hold on to her head and pump real fast to her mouth, spit-roasting her in cold water.

Being filled like this is exactly what she had in mind even before coming here, as Nayeon is somehow being able to shout out: ”Mppphmm… FUCKKKK… FUCK ME MORE!!! MY HOLES ARE DYING FOR MORE!!!

Even more so, they try to carry her slim frame up, double penetrating her while in the air, with Nayeon is fully panting hard and screaming the highest notes of her entire singing abilities.

Nayeon holds tight to one fighter, her entire body hovers up & down with water is splashing all over her face, while enjoying another dick pokes strongly through her anal hole. Her body doesn’t seem to have any problem with the slippery position, either moving by herself or letting the fighters “jab” straight up her holes.

Her entire vocal is echoing the entire shower room in the most lewd and erotic tone as possible: “FUCKKKKKK !!!! AHRRHRH YESSS !!!! FUCKKKK MEEEE!!!! MY HOLES FEEL SO GOOD!!!“

The three guys, lost count how many times they have spilled their juices inside and all over Nayeon, fucking her all the four surfaces wall in any position they can think of, even at one point their cum are so thick they keep spilling out from her no matter what she does, with Nayeon happily enjoys her fans "Worshiping “ her holes one way or another.

Nayeon’s horniness doesn’t seem to fade at all, but even rise up to a higher level.

Nayeon, somehow still maintains her abilities to collect her thoughts while being fucked, thinking: "Omfg, yess, fuck me you three,...Yess...fuck your beautiful bias hard...ravage my body...I’m winning...yesss...they will keep...fucking me...Until they’re all emptied...fuck...I feel...i feel like their queen now...fuckkk !!!”.

Some few moments later, all three guys, tired and drained all their cum inside Nayeon such, finally putting her down to the shower floor,, all wet and full of cum, sore but filled with orgasm.

The three fighters then walk of the shower, drag their own bodies out to the mat and lie down to it, all naked without any care.

Nayeon then wakes herself up from her entire ordeals, starts cleaning all the mess inside her holes, washes herself out and happily walks out with a towel along her body.

Even after being fucked without mercy inside the shower room, her body, her curves, and her facial expressions are still glowing as ever, making it a challenge to resist her charms.

But suddenly…

BANGGG

BOOM

…the sandbag on the side falls straight to some of the free weights, crashing on some of the equipment and part of the training mirrors, leaving a mess.

The three guys, like having electricity run through their bodies, wake up from their quick naps and ask out loud

"What the fuck was that !???? What the fuck happened?"

They look around, and see Nayeon, with a scared face, both hands are covering her mouth, walks back a bit.

It was Nayeon, in all her clumsiness, leaned onto the damaged sandbag and made the hooks fell off, created all this mess.

The entire room is panicked, with the three guys try their best to lift out the weights and remove the sand from it.

Anurak, in his angry voice, screams out loud: "WTF Nayeon! You should’ve been more careful! This is the last of our equipment here and they ain’t cheap! We’re not as rich as you you know?"

Nayeon, scared to her life, cries out: "I'm .. I'm so sorry…. I didn’t mean...I didn’t mean to .. I .. I didn’t know it was damaged...please...I'm scared...idk what to do...please don’t be angry…"

She’s meekly crying out while her body is shivering

Chakan and Chalerm have to calm down their coach: "Coach, it’s not her fault, we should’ve been more careful too to let her know about that shitty sandbag, it was an accident, look at least the weight are still there and we can replace that part of the mirror, the other equipment, I think we can ask our sponsors for it next month?"

Chakan tries to do his best to calm Anurak while Chalerm holding on to a weakened Nayeon, still crying her hearts out.

Anurak, as he calms down a bit, sit on the bench near there: "Well, sorry I was being sensitive, but it took me a long ass while to get these sponsors and those equipment, I even had to lower my salaries to buy some extra tools, that’s why I'm fucking pissed“

Nayeon, also calms down a bit, walks slowly to Anurak in her meek state: "I...I can...buy you back.. those equipment...I can repay you all that...I have money for those,...I didn’t mean to come here and made this mess...please, it’s a lesson for me to be more careful too...please don’t be angry with me...”

Anurak: "Well.. it’s hard to be angry for long seeing you like this, at least there are some compensations, but we might have to close the facility for a few days to clean up this mess, so there goes part of our salaries”

Nayeon: "I...I can pay for that too .. if you really need it...heck, I can pay your salaries in full month for you three, please .. lemme help, I'm sincerely do wanna make it up for you three .”

Anurak: "Well, that solves another problems, but here’s another thing...I'm angry and we had to do all those extra chores to clean the equipments, we’re all tense again, so...What do you say Nayeon? Any other techniques you wanna show us to?"

Nayeon, suddenly wipes off her tears, her smile is back again, saying it with a rather lewd voice: "Well why don’t you say it earlier? ( giggles) like I said, I'm “sincerely” wanna make it up for you three, any ways you want”

Anurak: ”Alright Nayeon, do it! Show us your last rounds! Take this as penalties for your violations of property damages, let’s get going!"

Nayeon: "right away coach! (Giggles)”.

She then stands straight, throws her towel away, leaving her bare naked again, in front of the mirror for everyone to see, gropes her tits and fingers her pussy to tease the guys.

Chalerm, already knows the signs, sets up the tripod again for another recording, then hurries himself joining the other two as they’re groping Nayeon’s body again, but this is where another fun starts.

Anurak, pulls Nayeon in front of the mirror, describes his rules: “Okay Nayeon, this will be your final lesson and also your penalties, you have to take all three of our dicks, AT THE SAME TIME, while keeping us not cum fast into you, but all over your face and body, got it?"

Nayeon, (pretends to be afraid) : “But coach, it’s too hard for me to hold your cum, let alone all three of you at the same time?"

Anurak: "It’s the rules Nayeon, it’s your challenge and also penalties, you made this mess right? And we already fucked all your holes back there, if you can do this I might really forgive you for your antics, you have to give us three rounds each hole for each of us”

Nayeon (keeps pretending to be afraid): "Okay coach...I'll...do my best.. I already promised...then I will do it!”

Nayeon ( thinking ): "Fuck yeah, that’s it, this IS the main even for today, they will fuck me at the same time while I'm pretending to be this meek self of mine. They’re gonna wreck all my holes, and I'm loving if, fuck, it makes me wanna cum just thinking about it”

Anurak: "Are you ready Nayeon? You’re ready to be stuffed in all your holes at the same time?"

Nayeon (still pretending): "Yes coach!”

Quickly, Chalerm, lays down flat to the floor again, guides Nayeon to face the mirror, then let her sit down straight to his dick in a cowgirl position, slowly pumping in and out of her to warm her up.

Anurak, gets to her back, starts kneading her butt cheeks while his thumb is spreading out her other hole, slowly lining his huge dick into hers.

Nayeon, while already pretty used to double penetrated from their last sessions, still feels so full and enamored with two cocks in her holes, as she’s breathing hard and blurts out "FUCKK”.

While chakan, pushes his dick straight to her mouth, leaving Nayeon finally being stuffed in all ends.

The three of them start moving, like training for their coordination, move in and out of Nayeon’s tight holes.

Nayeon, being stuffed all the way, moans out while keeping her mouth grips on to a cock in her throat.

All three guys are feeling euphoria, fucking their fav bias in all her holes, a dream they could never imagine comes true.

They keep moving hard in tandems, until Anurak gives signs for the other two to switch places, filling Nayeon again for round two with even harder thrusts.

Nayeon (thinking in her messy state) : “ fuck...all three...of them...filling me every holes...I'm full of cocks .. fuck...i need this .. this shit is too good.. I don’t...fuck .. don’t want them to stop at all...I'm feeling so good...can’t describe it...any longer .. I want their cum...so bad”

Round three is starting, with the three guys switch up again, but this time, the hardest they’ve been tonight, pouring their stamina into Twice’s center, all three muscular bodies is really attacking Nayeon’s slim but curvy frame, as if she’s being stuck in a traffic jam.

Nayeon can’t think anymore, just enjoying everything inside and out as her dream of being ravaged by multiple men is now a reality, and even better, being recorded on camera for hours.

Out of the sudden Anurak spills out: "Fuck .. gonna cum...”

Then chakan follows: "Me too.. gonna cum real soon”

And then chalerm: "Me three .. can’t.. hold it...anymore”

Anurak: “ fuck...let’s cum all over her, I wanna see her.. full on cum !!”The three quickly pulls out as they’re all setting Nayeon kneels down on her knees, waiting for the huge blasts of cum preparing for her.

Finally, with Chalerm cumming first, his spurts go straight to her hair, forehead and nose, following with Chakan, streams of cum fly to her cheeks, upper lips, and a bit to her neck.

And lastly, Anurak, spills his huge blast of cum to her mouth, lips, smearing the rest of his cum to her tits, with the other two doing the same.

Afterwards, all three of them just drop their entire bodies down to the mat, leaving a cum-covered Nayeon, all naked, with thick cum covered her entire face, dripping some to her tits, tummy, some on her lower body and to the mat below.

As Nayeon tries her best to remove some of the cum on her face, just barely enough for her to open her eyes, the other three are slowly getting to their sweet dream.

Nayeon, brings out a huge smile then remarks to herself while panting: "Well .. I guess .. this is enough...for my compensations”

A week later…

AT JIHYO’S PLACE

Video playing

"Oh fuckkkk, fuck my pussyyy, fuckkk my asss hard !! Fuckk !!”

Jihyo: "I guess I underestimated you, you really did drained them. Good job.”

Nayeon: "See? They even love me, I'm their bias and they really LOVE me all night, and my holes are just fully filled !!!”

Jihyo: "Well, yeh I get that, but I got fucked by FOUR GUYS and I still can walk around, therefore, I win yooooo!!!”

Nayeon: "What the, who said you win, those three fucked my ALL over their facility, and I even let them have my cum stained naked selfies! I win !!!”

Jihyo: "Nuh uh !! You only had that extra because somehow you got lucky enough they wanted to fuck your holes for compensations!! You were supposed to end at the shower, cheater !!”

Nayeon: "Ain’t no way I'm losing this !!!!!! You’re just jealous because they love fucking me more! I'm their queennn !!!"

Jihyo: "Gosh Unnie!!! You’re just troublesome !!!”

The two of them keep on arguing through the night, bragging about their “ achievements”, without knowing there’s a message appears on Nayeon’s phone.

Message: "Hi Nayeon Unnie, it’s me Karina from Aespa, I heard your stories from Winter, would you mind if we can chat? Thank you so much unnie ”

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[I only have 30 pounds in my bank account] - Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)

Mafia!TF141*F!Reader, but only Soap and Ghost in this chapter unless I extend this

chapter 2

You’re just trying to fulfill your dream, plus survive with the money you earn with your shop, but you start questioning if this is a good idea, maybe you should just listen to your friend and be a 9-5 worker, sitting in front of a laptop the whole day.

This isn’t a good location to open a tea shop, your little shop will rather become a place for dealing drugs or getting extorted in the first month. The area is fully ruled by the mafia, hence the cops couldn’t do anything here, but it makes the rent extremely low, which you’re able to afford with money you saved during school, and have a tiny shop that can barely squeeze in more than 8 people.

Looking at the scene playing in your shop for the fifth time this month, you stare at the people fighting and break the cup with dead eyes. You want to shout, to kick these guys' ass out of here or hit them with your broom, yet you glance at their muscles and the knives in their hand –  probably killing every day as work out, to your opposite one because you slump onto the bed once you close the shop and go upstairs, you choose to remain silent as the yelling only become louder.

Maybe you should find the mafia boss or some henchmen and give them half of your income to prevent the mayhem, but first, you don’t even know who actually rules this fucking place; second, you doubt they will have interest in your skimpy bank account. The only information you have is the mafia ruling here called ‘141’, since it’s an open secret to residents here.

“What are ye arseholes doin’?”

Fuck, here comes another one, or two as you spot the man with a balaclava behind the mohawk man who's speaking. They are tall, muscular and built like bricks. Grown like giraffes either, you complement when you need to crook your neck up to look at them stepping into your shop as if it's their backyard.

but the chaos halts immediately as you watch your ‘customers’ seem shocked with terror at the men.

You pretend you’re deaf and attempt to bury yourself in your counter. Please don’t kill me I didn’t hear a goddamn word and didn’t see you threatening them. You recite your defense as you scrub at the same tea cup till the distinct accent from the mohawk man catches you off guard that you almost drop it.

“I guess it’s already clean, lass.” A smirk appears on his face as he points at the cup.

“Wh– what do you want?” 

“Calm down, jus’ want te have some tea.”

“I only have 30 pounds in my bank account.”

“We’re just sayin’ we want tea.” The taller man speaks for the first time after coming in, and it startles you but forces your brain to function at the same time.

Ah, they aren’t here for money. You finally get what they’re talking about.

“Isn’t it supposed te be a tea shop here? One cup for him, and give me a cup of coffee.”

“Oh, of course. What kind of tea would you like, Sir?” You shift slightly to meet the other man’s eyes, and you want to shiver under his cold eyes.

“Just give him whatever you recommend.” 

They round over the glass scattering on the floor and take a seat closest to your counter after you nod at them.

While boiling the water, you sneak a glimpse at them, and the shape of guns covered by their clothes are unignorable as you scold yourself to stop looking at them, or the bigger guy might stab your eyes, but you still curse whole-heartedly in mind when the Scottish accent man meet your eyes with his azure ones and shines you a grin.

Should just quit staring, or you shouldn’t open this shop at all. Regretting your decisions as you turn back and focus back on making their drink, you’re able to recognize them staring at you from the periphery of your vision. Is it too late to kneel down and beg for your life right now?

You still perfectly make their orders and bring them the drinks, even though you’re sweating internally. At least don’t mess it up, and your confidence in your tea and coffee isn’t born from nothing, as you notice the man with the skull balaclava takes a sip first, then raises his eyebrow, added with a side glance at you.

“Haven’t seen him amazed by tea in years, it must be very good.” The mohawk man whistles as he sips at his coffee and gives an approving nod too.

“Thank you…” Your ego shouldn’t be boosted by mafias, but you still relax a bit knowing you didn't screwed up.

“When did ye open ‘is shop?” The man asks while the other continues drinking his tea, but seemingly taking in the conversation too.

“About two months ago."

"That’s why we didn't know about it before…” He taps at the table twice before shooting you another question “Got blokes like those in yer shop earlier often?”

Death sentence is served to your front, that’s what you think you hear. Is it better to say yes or no? Judging by the fact those people are their minions, you’re not sure if saying yes is indicating they haven’t controlled them appropriately.

“Tell us the truth” 

“Yeah, it’s the fifth time this month.” Swallowing, you confirm. Lies aren’t meaningful, and surely they’re able to pierce any veil with those scrutinizing stares and keen minds.

You watch them sharing a glance, and Soap takes out a pen along with a piece of paper, and starts scribbling on it.

“Here, call this number when you run in trouble, aye?" He shoves the paper into your grasp “I’m Soap, call him Ghost.”

"It’s a nice shop, we’ll come back soon.”

Your little shop drops into peace again as your customers leave, and you gaze at the generous tip lying on your counter, to the paper in your palm.

A number is written on it, with a big badge of ‘141’ beside it.

Oh shit, so your shop just became the most far-flung mafia’s property without you knowing.

[chvoswxtch]

secrets

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: in the aftermath of your fight with frank, you get more than one unexpected visitor.

warnings: swearing, lots & lots & lots of angst

word count: 4.4k

a/n: it's getting juicyyyy. friendly reminder y'all voted for a double drop this week, so chapter twenty one is coming this friday. enjoy. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

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“You keep frownin’ like that, you’re gonna get wrinkles.”

Lifting your focused gaze from your computer screen to the source of a familiar voice, the creases etched along your forehead deepened at the sight of Billy standing in your office doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands tucked into the pockets of his perfectly tailored suit pants and that signature vain smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What are you doing here?”

“Good to see you too, darlin’.”

Billy let out a dry chuckle, crossing the threshold over towards your desk in just a few quick strides. Leaning over your desk, Billy stretched his hand out to brush his thumb along the space between your eyebrows, effectively smoothing out the crinkles of concentration coupled with confusion. The gesture caught you off guard, and you blinked a few times in surprise as Billy unbuttoned the middle button on his dark gray suit jacket before sitting down in the chair in front of your desk.

“There, that’s better. Now, how ‘bout you at least pretend to be happy to see me.”

Billy arched one of his dark brows, that same smirk still gracing the edge of his lips in a silent tease. Looking over at him, it occurred to you that there always seemed to be some hint of mischief lingering in his deep espresso tinted eyes. Leaning back in your chair and folding your arms over your chest, you gave him a pointed look.

“What can I do for you, Billy?”

“Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine today.”

“I could be worse, if you’d like.”

Billy’s lips split into a full blown grin, and he let out an amused chuckle at the sass dripping from your dry reply.

“Nah, I’ve seen you pissed. I’d prefer to stay on your good side, sweetheart. You wanna tell me what’s got you in such a pleasant mood this mornin’?”

Being around Billy just made you think about Frank, and thinking about Frank only reminded you of the fact that the two of you weren’t in a good place right now. He swore to you the night you confronted him that he was going to wrap this job up as quickly as he could, but that meant he had to devote all of his time to it, which resulted in him being around even less than he had been last month. 

Two weeks had passed since you’d last seen Frank in person. When you woke up in his bed the morning after you’d shown up at his apartment to confront him, he was already gone. He’d left a note on his pillow saying that he would call you soon, but that call didn’t come for four days, and neither one of you had much to say. You thought hearing his voice after being apart for a while would make you feel better about the whole situation, grant you some sense of relief or jumpstart a spark of acceptance you couldn’t find beforehand, but it only made you even more pissed off about what was happening.

And then the call you had with him two days ago really set you off.

Frank had been trying to keep the conversation light, and there was an apologetic tone to his gruff voice, but you couldn’t bite your tongue. The more you sat alone with the vague explanation he had given you, the more his promise of reassurance felt like fraud. You drew blood first, like you always did, but after a round of back and forth passive aggressive exchanges, Frank lost his own temper and went on the defense.

“For Christ’s sake, what else you want me to say, huh? How many other ways I gotta apologize?”

“We shouldn’t even be in this situation right now, Frank-”

“Yeah, well we are, and you’re gonna have to find a way to deal with it cause it ain’t changin’ any goddamn time soon.”

Frank’s aggressive retort only incensed you further. The stress of the current job combined with the growing rift between the two of you eroded his patience into raw frustration, and you were matching his verbal lashes blow for blow.

“Just deal with it? Just deal with you being away and hiding things from me?”

“That’s the job sometimes, alright? You know first hand the kinda shit I gotta do. You know what my world’s like. I told you I was gonna do what I could to get this handled as soon as possible-”

“But this isn’t your normal job, Frank! Stop using that as a fucking excuse. You’ve never had to disappear to God only knows where before, and you’ve never kept secrets from me-”

“Oh for fucks sake. You think that’s what I’m doin’? Makin’ excuses? That’s bullshit and you know it. I told you what I could-”

“And that’s supposed to be enough?“

“It was enough for Maria.”

Those five simple words stunned you silent. They struck a nerve you didn’t even know existed, and Frank, blinded by his aggravation, just kept hacking away at it with his verbal arsenal.

“Ya’know, she never gave me this much fuckin’ shit, and she had to deal with way worse than you. I was away from her and the kids for months at a time, couldn’t tell her a goddamn thing ‘bout what I was really doin’, and she was never on my ass the way you are right now-”

“I’m not her, Frank!”

The only sounds on the line were yours and Frank’s labored breathing, shallow and heavy from yelling and exhausting your vexed emotions on one another. For several moments, neither of you spoke a word, until finally you broke the silence by gritting your teeth and delivering one last blow.

“You know what, don’t fucking call me again until this shit is over.”

Frank, being the stubborn ass that he was, hadn’t attempted to contact you to smooth things over or to apologize. It infuriated you, but in the same breath, you didn’t want to speak to him right now. 

Still, it wasn’t fair of you to take your sour mood out on Billy. He hadn’t done anything wrong. You were upset with Frank, not him. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you slowly dragged your palm down your face before leaning back in your chair. You hadn’t noticed how stiffly you’d been sitting until you felt a dull ache in your lower back.

“I…sorry. There’s just…a lot going on right now. I’m spread kinda thin so, I’m…a bit on edge.”

“A bit?”

When you shot him an unamused look, Billy let out a light chuckle and held up his hands in a show of faux surrender.

“Alright, alright. I didn’t come to here to fuck with ya. I actually came to ask a favor.”

An expression of surprise swiftly coveted your features. What could you possibly have to offer Billy Russo?

“A favor?”

Billy leaned back in the chair, adjusting the lapels of his suit before crossing his left leg over his right knee, placing his elbows on the arm rests. Maybe it was because your office was familiar to him, or maybe it was because he was so rich he felt like he owned everything, but Billy had a way of being able to make himself comfortable no matter what setting he was in. Fixing his deep brown eyes on you, that signature smirk of his graced his lips once again when he caught your look of intrigue and confusion.

“As you know, Anvil has a government contract with Homeland Security. It was a big deal for the company, and it’s proven to be a damn good business investment. As a matter of fact, it’s been so successful, that I’ve been meetin’ with a few other branches negotiatin’ another expansion, and recently closed a deal with the CIA.”

“Don’t government contracts kinda defeat the whole private military operation thing?”

“I didn’t hear you complainin’ when that Homeland contract brought you to me.”

Rolling your eyes at the smugness in his voice, you reached for the nearly empty iced coffee sitting on your desk.

“It wasn’t a complaint.”

“Anvil is more than personal protection, darlin’. It’s also convoy security, tactical operations, tailored training, and more. Most of our military contracts are outside of the U.S, so havin’ two on American soil is a huge deal.”

“If you’re trying to sell me on investing, I hate to break it to you, but I think the number currently reflecting in my bank account would make you cry.”

Billy let out a deep chuckle at that, his lips stretching open into a tooth bearing grin. Giving a faint shake of his head, he ran his right hand along the top of his head, smoothing his perfectly styled raven hair back into place.

“That’s not what I’m askin’.”

“Then how do I come into this, exactly?”

“The news hasn’t hit the media yet. Anvil’s hosting a Veteran’s Charity Ball this Saturday night, and I’m gonna make the announcement then. That, pretty girl, is where you come into play. I’d like you to personally cover the story.”

Looking across your desk at Billy, you could see by the look on his face that he was serious about wanting you to cover the piece. A slight furrow nestled between your brows at the idea.

“Why me?”

Billy cocked his head to the side, a sparkle of mirth in his eyes and a sly smile tugging at the edge of his mouth.

“Why would I ask anyone else? You know me, you know the company-”

“Which is kind of conflict of interest-”

“I already cleared it with your editor. You bein’ under the protection of Anvil is classified through Homeland, and since we’re a private company like you mentioned, our records ain’t public. Besides, your editor seemed pretty confident you could write without bias. Look, I want you on this. I’ve read the work of some of the other journalists here, and I gotta tell ya, even if I didn’t know ya, I still woulda picked you.”

Hearing that Billy had already talked to Ellison about this was a surprise to you because Ellison hadn’t mentioned it at all to you. When had Billy talked to him about this? Why hadn’t Ellison told you? Perplexity shrouded your features as you looked over at Billy.

“Ellison didn’t say anything-”

“I asked him not to. I wanted to ask you first, in person. He gave it the green light, but ultimately, it’s up to you if you wanna do it.”

Being kept in the dark seemed to be a recurring theme in your life lately that you weren’t happy with, and it stirred up dull embers of irritation from your fight with Frank. A part of you didn’t want to do it purely out of immature spite, since Billy indirectly had a hand in creating the chasm currently deepening between you and Frank. But that wasn’t fair to Billy. You owed him your life as much as you did Frank and Dinah. Billy played a vital part in keeping you safe and protected from the Defenders of Freedom, and recording Steven’s confession ended up being the smoking gun in proving his involvement.

After a moment of silent contemplation, you let out a light exhale through your lips.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Don’t get too excited, now. It’s only a fancy party with an extensive open bar and catering from all of the best restaurants in the city.”

Trying to fight the smile that threatened to escape across your lips, you looked over at Billy and arched one of your brows.

“Are you trying to bribe me to write you a good article, Mr. Russo?”

“Is it workin’?”

Billy’s mouth was stretched in a wide, wolfish grin, showcasing the top row of his dazzling pearly white teeth. His dark brows were raised slightly up his forehead, and he had that familiar devilish twinkle in his eyes. Giving a soft shake of your head with a dry laugh, you crossed your arms over your chest and relaxed back in your chair.

“What time?”

“Starts at seven, I’ll send a car for ya ‘round six-thirty.”

“You don’t have to do that, I can take a cab-”

“C’mon, you’re doin’ me a favor.”

“Hey, I never agreed to write a good article. I might make you look terrible, just for the fun of it.”

Returning your teasing smile with an amused grin, Billy chuckled with a shake of his head. As he stood up and fixed his maroon tie, he motioned towards your office door with his head.

“Alright, c’mon.”

Staring up at him with a puzzled expression, you let out a soft laugh while he buttoned the middle button of his suit jacket.

“What?”

“I’m takin’ your bratty ass to lunch. Maybe after some food you’ll be a bit nicer.”

Making a show of rolling your eyes in faux exasperation, you stood from your chair and locked your computer before closing your notebook.

“No promises.”

“Well in my experience, you’re more tolerable when you’re fed.”

“Keep talking. Your article is getting worse and worse.”

“I’m sure a few glasses of expensive champagne will fix that.”

Billy turned to take a step towards the door and then abruptly paused, turning back to look at you with another teasing grin.

“Oh, and do me another favor, would ya? See if you can get Frankie to drag his ass out and make an appearance. I think he’s forgotten how to use his phone.”

The mention of Frank’s name instantly tarnished the light hearted mood Billy’s banter had put you in. Letting out a dry scoff, you slipped your phone into your purse and pulled the straps over your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath. That job you and Madani have him working has not only turned him into a ghost, but also a complete dick. I’ll let you deal with him.”

Tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, you started to round your desk when you looked up and caught the expression on Billy’s face, and it made you stop in your tracks. His sharp features were suddenly void of their usual playful warmth, and there was no charming smirk etched onto his mouth. His lips were set in a firm line, outlining his chiseled jaw that was covered in a perfectly trimmed dark beard, and his dark brown eyes looked nearly obsidian. 

“The job with Madani?”

There was a faint serrated edge to his tone when he spoke, but you didn’t miss it. Billy’s stare was intense, and you realized he probably thought that you knew something you shouldn’t. Crossing your arms over your chest, you let an irritated exhale escape through your nose as your gaze drifted towards the window of your office.

“Don’t worry, he didn’t tell me anything. Not where he was going, not what he was doing, nothing. So whatever top secret thing you two have him doing, it’s still top secret, alright?”

There was a long pause of silence, and your annoyance started to fade into a feeling of perplexity when you looked back at him and saw a look in Billy’s eyes that you didn’t know how to read. There was a sudden coldness to him, and an emotion you couldn’t decode hidden in his steely gaze. The tense quietness in your office sent an uneasy shiver down your spine, but then it was like a switch was suddenly flipped, and Billy reverted back to the version of him you’re familiar with.

He plastered that charming smirk on his lips again, but you noticed this time, it wasn’t accompanied by the usual mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Trouble in paradise?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you dropped your gaze down to the floor for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t like being lied to, or kept in the dark. I know your line of work is…complicated, I just…I thought Frank and I didn’t have any secrets between us.”

“Sometimes lyin’ and keepin’ somethin’ hidden is the only way to protect someone from the pain of the truth.”

Lifting your head, you met Billy’s intense gaze with an incredulous and inquisitive look.

“You really believe that?”

“Trust me, some secrets are better left buried, darlin’.”

»»———　　———««

The following evening when you came home from work, all you wanted was a long soak in a hot bath and an entire bottle of wine. The stress of the last two weeks wasn’t just taking a toll on you emotionally, it was also physically manifesting in your body. Closing the front door behind you, the lock sounded with a click when you twisted the oval knob, and you lazily tossed your keys onto the side table in the entryway before carelessly tossing your purse onto it as well. 

Coming around the corner into your living room, you nearly had a heart attack when you were suddenly met with the sight of a large figure sitting at your dining table, waiting in the dark. Clutching at your chest in panic and jumping nearly two feet in the air, your voice came out in a shrill shriek.

“Jesus Christ, Frank!”

Frank didn’t physically react to your outburst. He sat as still as a statue in one of the chairs, slightly hunched over with his thighs spread wide, his forearms resting just a few inches above his knees. A bit of dark stubble coated his cheeks and sharp jawline, and his grown out hair was a tousled mess of ebony waves resting against his forehead instead of being pushed back in their usual style.

The swift scare of Frank’s intrusion, his silent treatment, and the lingering resentment you’d been harboring for the past two weeks had you glaring at him.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

His deep brown eyes were fixated on you and his plump lips were set in a stubborn line. Frank’s rugged features were even more pronounced in his resting semi-permanent broody expression. Wordlessly, he lifted one of his large hands, showcasing a set of keys on a ring pinched between his thumb and index finger. One of which, belonged to your front door. 

After everything that had happened at your last place, you couldn’t stay there anymore. You’d quickly moved into a new place that happened to be closer to the Bulletin, and as far as you knew no one had died in it, and there weren’t lingering bullet holes under the paint. Frank had helped you move and set up your security system for you again. You’d forgotten that you’d given him a spare key so he could get in while you were at work.

When you crossed your arms over your chest in a defensive stance, Frank caught the pissed off look on your face, and when you opened your mouth to lash out at him, he quickly cut you off with his rough voice before you could get a word out.

“Said not to call. Didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout comin’ to see ya.”

The snippiness of his comment made you narrow your eyes in his direction. Clenching your jaw, you pursed your lips tightly as your face contorted into a portrait of annoyance. You were about to snap back at him when you noticed out of the corner of your eye that there was a packed bag sitting on the dining table next to him.

It was yours.

Eyes flickering between your bag and Frank, you stared at him in a mixture of irritation and confusion.

“What the hell is that for?”

“I gotta leave town for a bit. I told ya I’d make sure you were taken care of while I was gone, so you’re gonna stay with a friend of mine.”

“And you didn’t think to ask me if that was something I even wanted to do?”

“It ain’t up for discussion.”

Frank hadn’t been this cold towards you since the early days of when he was your bodyguard. For a moment your exasperation evaporated, wondering if things between the two of you were worse than you thought. Picking up on the slight change in your body language and facial expression, Frank let out a deep exhale through his large nose and slowly stood up from the chair.

“I can’t do what I need to do if I’m worryin’ ‘bout you bein’ alone here, alright? It’s just for a few days.”

“Frank, I’m not in any danger anymore. No one is actively trying to kill me. If you’re that worried about me being alone, Billy can stop by-”

“No.”

The aggressive tone of Frank’s voice and the roughness of his tone caught you off guard. Frank glanced away from you, his eyes darting around your living room for a few seconds before they finally returned to you. His left hand was tightly grasped in a fist, but on his right, his index and middle finger twitched. A sharp exhale escaped his large nose, and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip quickly before he spoke again.

“Look you wanna be pissed at me, be pissed at me, but don’t put yourself at risk cause of it. Maybe you’re right, yeah? Maybe you ain’t a target no more. But I’d rather know you were safe than have to deal with the fact later on that I shoulda done more. I ain’t takin’ that risk again.”

It was like a light bulb went off in your head when he spoke that last sentence. In the midst of your own tangled mess of selfish feelings, you hadn’t once stopped to think about how Frank felt about all of this. A sinking feeling of remorse settled in your stomach hearing the frustration but also the lingering pain in his voice when he spoke. 

I ain’t takin’ that risk again.

He’d had his entire family ripped away from him in one single moment, right in front of his eyes, of course he was fucking paranoid. From your perspective, Steven was facing life in prison, and all the remaining members of the Defenders of Freedom were gonna rot with him, so you didn’t think you had anything to be worried about.

But Frank saw danger everywhere. He anticipated it. He planned for it. And that’s what he was doing right now. 

Frank was doing the exact same thing he’d been doing every single day since he met you: keeping you safe.

Letting out a deep sigh, you looked down at the floor for a moment to gather your irrational thoughts and rein in your impulsive emotions. When you raised your head, your eyes flickered from the packed bag sitting on your dining table back to Frank’s unrelenting stare. Running one of your hands stressfully through the roots of your hair, you made a faint gesture of throwing your hands up in concession.

“Alright, well if you’re not leaving me with Billy, I’m assuming you’re not taking me to Madani either. So, does Matt know I’m coming?”

Frank’s steely expression crumbled at the mention of Matt’s name. He pulled a face like you’d just asked a ridiculous question, a furrow of annoyance and confusion settling between his thick brows.

“You think I’d leave you with him?”

Letting out a dry scoff void of humor, you rolled your eyes with a shake of your head and folded your arms across your chest.

“Just because he’s blind-”

“It ain’t got shit to do with him bein’ blind.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is I don’t trust him to keep his fuckin’ hands to himself, and I ain’t lettin’ him pull that ‘poor blind orphan’ shit on you.”

A look of surprise crossed your face as your brows lifted slightly up your forehead, and it took every ounce of self control not to laugh or show any indication of amusement. Frank wouldn’t leave you in Matt’s care because he was worried he would…hit on you?

Letting out a grunt, Frank grabbed the handles of your bag in his left hand and swiped it off the table.

“He’s too preoccupied at night anyway.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Bein’ the goddamn Devil. C’mon.”

When Frank walked past you towards your front door, you turned around to watch him, narrowing your eyes in irritation.

“Can you at least tell me who you’ve employed to babysit me then?”

Frank paused at your front door, which he took up the entire frame of, and his head dropped between his shoulders for a moment. You could hear him audibly voice his frustration with your attitude when he let out another sharp exhale before turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“A friend of mine.”

“Yeah, you said that. A friend of yours, that you’ve never mentioned before. Do I have to have some kind of top secret security clearance for you to tell me their name?”

There was a scowl on Frank’s face as he glowered at you, turning around to face you fully. He dropped your bag on the floor with a light thud, scrunching up his face for a moment as he inhaled sharply through his large nose, cocking his head to the side.

“Christ. This what you wanna do right now, huh?”

Returning his glare with just as much vehemence, you let out a dry and humorless laugh as you gestured around loosely.

“No, Frank. This isn’t what I want-”

“Look you wanna keep bustin’ my goddamn balls, fine. But do it from the truck, yeah? You can antagonize me with your bullshit all you want while I drive, but we got somewhere to be.”

Clenching your jaw, your hands balled into frustrated fists at your sides. For a moment the two of you were locked in some kind of silent staring contest. You were so sick of every conversation with Frank lately turning into an argument that ended with the two of you at each other’s throats. You didn’t have the patience to combat his stubborn dedication to being a self righteous asshole. Gritting your teeth, you stormed forward and grabbed your own bag as you brushed past him out your front door, swearing under your breath.

“Dick.”

Frank pursed his full lips and nodded his head, turning around to follow you after forcefully shutting your front door behind himself.

“Yeah yeah, get in the goddamn truck.”

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [27] - Midnight

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Some arguments have more tension than others.

Word Count: 2500

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship (I'm serious, they have issues), mentions of sex and fighting. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Well then.

As it turned out, your plan to make your cousin look weak was working.

The first hit was an absolute success, and Ian was already crumbling. It was lucky for you that your father wasn’t getting involved and was giving him a chance to prove himself after the first attack to the shipment, because Ian was acting exactly the way you thought he would act.

Good.

It was going to make things much easier.

Bucky had dropped by to the apartment in the middle of the day to go take a shower which was quite surprising but judging by the blood stains on his shirt, it was needed. You were sitting comfortably on the couch, resting your feet on the coffee table with a book in your lap when he came into the living room and made a beeline to you to fling himself on the couch as well, pushing your book away to put his head in your lap. You pulled your brows together, tilting your head.

“Can I help you?”

If you didn’t know it better, you would’ve thought he was pouting.

“I need like five minutes to rest my eyes,” he murmured with his eyes closed. “How someone can be so goddamn stubborn, I’ll never understand.”

“Ah,” you said. “This can only be about—”

“Becca.”

You nodded your head. “What happened?”

“Mom wants to meet her girlfriend and Becca is acting like that’s a natural disaster.”

“Hurricane Winnifred,” you muttered and Bucky opened his eyes to look up at you, but then closed them again when you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair to play with it.

“Can you tell her she’s being nonsense?”

“I don’t think she’s being nonsense,” you told him. “Have you met your mother?”

“She’ll be nice.”

“Like fuck she will.”

“She’s nice to you.”

“Because she knows I won’t be nice if she won’t,” you told him. “Leila on the other hand…she’s way too polite.”

Bucky hummed and looked up at you again.

“Is Becca serious about her?”

“Oh absolutely,” you said. “Picket fence house and all that nonsense.”

“With a civilian,” Bucky mumbled. “That’s going to be fun.”

“Becca would never get with someone in the business, you know that.”

“Oh I know that, but I don’t think my parents do,” Bucky said. “They still hope it will happen.”

“Winnifred and my aunt would get along well,” you muttered. “Both boy moms.”

“So are a lot of people.”

“No there’s a difference between a boy mom and a boy mom.”

“You make zero sense, Charm.”

You shrugged your shoulders, still playing with his hair but his phone buzzed, making him let out a groan.

“No!”

“You’ll be fine,” you said and he sat up with a sigh, his eyes darting over the lines before he chuckled.

“Jesus, he really is the worst heir ever.”

“Ian?”

“Guess where he’s routing the next shipment.”

You frowned. “Where?”

“West side second dock.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Has your father never taught him anything, seriously?” he asked and you covered your mouth.

“West side second dock, Jesus Christ…”

“I’d better have a decoy shipment then,” Bucky murmured. “Just in case.”

“Yeah that’s a good idea,” you said. “The cops will follow that shipment and bust it with any other shipment that day.”

“I’ll talk to my guys in the force, let’s see how that plays out.”

“Both us and the cops winning,” you mused. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“They’re not winning, it’s just going to be their small victory so that they’ll shut up for a while,” Bucky said as he stood up. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Sure,” you said as he kissed the top of your head. “I’ll meet my dad but I’ll be home around dinner time.”

“Have fun,” he said and walked out of the apartment, and you heaved a sigh.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

                                                    *

Your lunch with your father was pretty interesting, because you knew he was trying his hardest not to let you know about the so-called attack, but he was way too tense for you to think everything was going well. You took a look at the bodyguards in the restaurant, then sipped your rosé, leaning back.

“So,” you said. “How is everything with the business?”

He shot you a look.

“You took longer than I thought you would,” he commented and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m just making small talk—”

“Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Fine,” you said. “I heard about the attack.”

“Of course you did,” he muttered more to himself, then sipped his drink. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

You tried to control your expression.

“I know,” you said. “Doesn’t mean I’m not curious. Do we know who’s behind the attack?”

“Not yet,” he said. “We’re searching for it though.”

Tension churned at your stomach but you nodded your head calmly.

“What shipment was it?” you asked. “You normally have multiple men around the perimeter, but Bucky said it looked like a sneak attack. How did they get past your people? Did they kill them?”

Your father licked his lips and heaved a sigh.

“Ian was responsible of that shipment,” he said, making you arch a brow. “He must’ve—Y/N.”

“What?” you asked innocently and he licked his lips.

“He will stumble a bit, everyone does when they first start taking responsibilities.”

You hummed.

“Funny,” you said. “I didn’t notice that with Bucky. Or Sam. Or Steve.”

“Ian is a bit more…enthusiastic to prove himself than they were, perhaps.”

You tried not to grimace at the blatant lie and took another sip so that you could control your expression.

“I’ve been told he’s fixing the situation,” your father said. “He’s much more angry at the situation than you or me.”

“But are you angry?”

“It happened in my territory, and it was my shipment, my business that they attacked,” your father said even though his voice was calm. “Of course I am angry.”

Guilt burned at your stomach but you knew you couldn’t let it affect you; what you and Bucky had done was necessary.

It wasn’t just your father’s business, it was going to be yours one day and you had to prove that Ian was a terrible option.

For the business, and the city.

One of the bodyguards came closer to mutter something to his ear and he nodded, then wiped at his mouth.

“Duty calls,” he said and you took another sip of your wine, then put the glass on the table.

“Alright.”

“Want me to drop you off?”

“No need, my driver is here,” you said as you both walked out of the restaurant. He hugged you and you kissed him on the cheek.

“Be careful.”

“Always am,” he said and one of the bodyguards opened the door for you, but before you got in, you heard your father’s voice again.

“Y/N.”

You turned around to look at him better. “Yeah?��

“How would you prevent it?” he asked. “If it was your shipment?”

A smug grin threatened to pull at your lips but you bit inside your cheek, then heaved a sigh.

“Twenty men around the perimeter,” you said. “Additional ten in every half mile, three hour shifts in rotation. Couple of cops under our pay in the outer skirts, preferably by the bridge and at least three people watching the street footage so that we would know the license plates of every car that gets a bit too close for future reference.”

He blinked a couple of times, the impressed expression on his face impossible to miss and you felt your stomach do a happy flip, then shrugged your shoulder, forcing yourself to focus.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you told him. “I’m not your heir, am I?”

With that, you got in the car and the bodyguard closed the door, the driver starting the car immediately. You grinned to yourself and leaned back in the seat as the car started moving through the street smoothly and you closed your eyes.

“Yet,” you corrected yourself. “I’m not your heir yet.”

                                            *

Bucky had texted you, saying he would miss dinner because of a meeting taking long so you had ordered some takeout, curled up on the couch with Alpine in your lap. Towards midnight he still hadn’t come home so you texted him only for him to text back the meeting was still going on, and you picked a show to bingewatch in the meantime.

For some reason you liked it when Bucky was beside you on the bed when you went to sleep.

You were so focused on the episode that you hadn’t even noticed when your phone buzzed, so when you saw the text notification from Ian, you frowned slightly.

You and Ian didn’t really text each other.

You touched the notification and sat up straighter much to Alpine’s meow of protest the moment you saw the picture of Bucky and Anna by the docks. Bucky was leaning back against the car with Anna right beside him, laughing at what you could only assume something he said.

From: Ian

Ouch. Didn’t last long huh?

Fury spread through you so fast that it made your head spin and you stood up from the couch, Alpine jumping to the floor as well. Your jaw clenched as you zoomed into the picture, then ran a hand over your face.

Of course.

The so called meeting was just a fucking excuse.

You didn’t even know why you were getting so angry, after all this whole thing was just a business deal but that was the thing; you two had a deal. That was his only request going into this marriage, that you two wouldn’t see anyone else behind each other’s back but there he was, breaking the same rule he had implemented. A mob boss not being faithful wasn’t supposed to be a surprise; you had grown up seeing it over and over again, Bucky’s own father included but this?

This was disrespect, and the fact that Ian was the one telling you about it made it so much worse.

You tried to see through the fury pounding in your head, tossed the phone aside and dug your fingernails into your palms, gritting your teeth.

That motherfucker.

How dare he?

By the time the front door opened, you had been pacing in the living room for the last half an hour, still lost in your own anger but Bucky’s voice made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Honey I’m home,” he joked as he walked in and you narrowed your eyes at him, making him tilt his head.

“What happened?”

Even if anger was radiating off of you and you knew that he could tell, you managed to smile but you had a feeling it was more of a snarl.

“How was the meeting?” you asked, your voice eerily calm and he licked his lips.

“It was fine?” he said like a question. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m about to be shot?”

You walked to the couch to grab your phone, then found the pic, your hands nearly shaking as you tossed him the phone with more force than necessary. His gaze fell on the screen before he looked at you again.

“You put people on my tail?”

“You fucking asshole!” you lunged at him but he had the same training as you had – probably heavier considering the cage fight- because he caught you basically in mid-air and twisted your arm, then pushed you before you could grab him.

“Sweetheart,” he said. “You know what the psychiatrist said about open communication, let’s talk about this.”

“You’re going behind my back?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, it was a business—”

“Bullshit!”

“A business meeting,” he said as you took off your earrings to toss them aside, making him pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Charm baby, let’s not.”

“Oh no, let’s,” you said as you jumped over the coffee table but he caught your leg before you could reach him and threw you easily to the corner of the room. You landed on your feet just as easily but the vase by the corner fell off its stand to smash into pieces. Bucky’s bodyguards by the hallway must’ve heard the noise because the door slammed open, Hannah and Paul walking inside with their guns raised.

“Mr. Barnes?”

“Leave,” Bucky ordered, rolling his shoulders back as you gritted your teeth and pulled the pocket knife out of your waistband, flipping it open.

“…Sir?”

“Everything is alright, me and my wife are just having a small disagreement.”

“Mr. Barnes, are you—”

“She’s not going to do anything to me Paul but I can’t guarantee the same thing for you,” Bucky said. “Leave, close the door behind you.”   

Hannah and Paul lowered their guns, exchanging glances.

“Leave!” you snapped and they both rushed out of the door, closing it behind them in a hurry. Bucky gave you a smirk and opened his arms as if inviting you.

“It was a business meeting, princess.”

“In the middle of the night?” you asked as you stepped closer to him, both of you circling each other. “By the water? Are all your meetings that romantic?”

“We had to go check the shipment’s security because I don’t want to raise any alarms when Ian’s shipment gets busted—”

“Do you seriously think I’m that much of a gullible idiot?”

“Nah, I think you’re just jealous. It’s adorable, really.”

“I’m not fucking jealous!” you exclaimed as you lunged at him again, this time wrapping your legs around his neck to slam him to the ground even if he managed to knock the blade off your hand in the meantime. As soon as you two hit the ground, he caught your leg and flipped you two over, his hand shooting up to grab you by the neck, not putting any pressure but still strong.

Oh—

Oh fuck, this wasn’t supposed to make your heartbeat faster.

The only sound in the room was both of you breathing hard while you glared at each other for a moment, desire roaring through your veins, making your head spin.

Then his lips crashed into yours.

All your senses were too full of him for you to even think it wasn’t the best idea and to be completely honest, you couldn’t give two fucks whether it was a good idea or not, especially not when he was kissing you like this. You had no idea when you two had started ripping each other’s clothes but it was only when you felt his fingertips brush your bare waist, awakening fire underneath your skin did you realize you were only in your bra. You pulled at his crisp button up shirt until the buttons scattered around the room before you impatiently pushed it down his arms and bit at his lip, making him hiss for a moment to pull back to look down at you.

“Behave,” he warned you, smirking slightly and you tilted your head, arching a brow.

“You first.”  

He let out a chuckle, then winked at you and leaned down to kiss you again.

Chapter 28

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part 3)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warnings: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: slightly shorter but hopefully worth it! Comments and criticisms are welcome!

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts @blooket-scares-me @amararosesblog @talanyra @spideybv28

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Are You That Somebody?

The two of you stepped through portal after portal in search of the perfect Logan who was willing to help you save your timeline. The first one was a little too short for Wade’s liking, the next one too 80’s he had said, the one after that was too busy fighting the Hulk, the one after that too old, and the one after him…you couldn’t really think of anything to say about the one called Patch except that you found him the most attractive with his eyepatch out of all of them, unfortunately though he seemed to hate Wade the most.

Wade stopped as a portal closed behind you both, as he approached a different Wolverine from behind, this one was alone in a garage and was working on his motorcycle with his back turned to you smoking a cigar.

“Now we’re talking.” He said rubbing his hands together like he was warming up. Every Wolverine so far has tried to kill him on the spot but had spared you for some odd reason, so he probably was preparing himself. “That’s the whole goddamn package right there.” He sounded like he was licking his lips under the mask.

This Wolverine was different, his build looked bigger than the other ones you had met, bulkier and he stood differently too as if he had more confidence in himself.

When he turns to get a good look at you both Wade lets out a girlish squeal as he covers his mouth with his hands.

“Oh, my fuck!” He shouts excitedly smacking you in the arm. “The Cavillrine! The legends are true.”

Now that this one was facing you, you could clearly see his face, he looked completely different from the others, still rugged but not as attractive to you. He looks you dead in the eyes and like all the others before him froze in place when he finally saw you, eyes unreadable as his nose flared.

It shocked you both when this Wolverine calls out your name, clear as day as Wade looks back and forth comically between you two incredulously. He steps forward towards you and you take a step back behind Wade, seeing first hand how violent Wolverine’s can be.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever the fuck that was but may I say, sir, on behalf of all humanity, this just feels right!” Wade says stepping in between you two, breaking the intense eye contact. “We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street.”

“You were just leaving.” This Wolverine snaps calmly as he flicks his wrist, reloading his arms and drawing his claws. With a hard smack of his arm he miscalculates and sends Wade flying into you, through another portal he had opened up at the last minute behind you.

The impact of his body sent you barreling into a pool table as you both flew out of the portal. Messing up whatever game they had going on, a few patrons of the dingy bar you were now in glared at the two of you angrily, one being so bold as to step up to you before Wade stands up grabbing the irate man by his neck, almost instantly putting him to sleep.

Pulling you to your feet, you dusted yourself off from being on the grimy floor and readjusted your clothes. It was getting late, you had no idea how many hours you guys had left but you still hadn’t found a suitable Wolverine to replace your own yet and your chest was starting to tighten up in desperation and fear.

Looking to say something to Wade you realize while you were lost in yourself he had walked off, and instead was going up to a man at the bar. This one you could instantly recognize from behind from his hair tufts alone.

He had found another Wolverine and by the looks of his slouched shoulders this one was neck deep in an alcohol induced pity party.

You followed behind Wade just reaching the bar when the bartender came and took the cup from Wolverine looking equal parts annoyed and scared of the man in front of him. “I told you, you’re not welcome here, you’re not welcome anywhere. Now get the fuck out of my bar.” He said calmly not wanting to cause a big scene but still wanting to get his point across sternly.

“Just give me one more drink and I’ll leave.” The Wolverine answered as he looked down at where his cup had been, he looked the part of a kicked puppy.

“That’s not how this works.” The bartender started again but was interrupted when Wade leaned on the counter beside Wolverine “It does now, leave the bottle thanks.” He says shooing the man away. The bartender stares at the three of you oddly before going off to wipe down another part of the bar, leaving you to it.

This Wolverine’s nose flares as he audibly inhales and snaps his head to look past Wade at you. Unlike with the others before him the emotions in his eyes were clear as day as he looked at you, or more like through you.

Shock, fear, guilt and then ultimately hate welled up in his hazel eyes as he snatched up the bottle of jack the bartender had left beside him talking a few gulps.

“I know you, bub?” He asked you with a hard voice, clearly he did or at least he knew some version of you from this timeline. “Cause you got a lot of fucking nerve wearing the face of a dead girl ‘round me.”

Dead? Were you dead in this timeline?

You open your mouth to speak but Wade cuts you off as he holds up a gloved finger to your lips shushing you.

“Look peanut, I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about, a lot of emotional turmoil to get out and eventually a heartfelt confession gets thrown into the mix followed by, judging from the sex eyes you’re giving each other, a whole lot of fucky fucky time but we’re kinda on a time crunch here so I’m gonna need you to come with us right now.” He said, nodding towards the door. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, you loved Wade to pieces but sometimes you wish he’d keep his mouth shut.

“Look, lady, I’m not interested.” Wolverine said, tearing his glare away from you to stare down Wade, he thought his outfit looked absolutely ridiculous and that was saying something, then he felt his gaze drift back to you, taking in your scent again.

Not only did you look like her, only a little younger, but you even smelled like her too, albeit just a little bit different. That was something he knew deep in his gut that couldn’t be replicated no matter what copying powers you had, so how the fuck were you standing here in front of him when he himself had buried your dead body almost a year ago?

Snapping his attention back to the conversation, he hadn’t heard a word red had said to him.

“Why would I go with you?” He asked cutting Wade off as he took another sip from the bottle before drunkenly poking him in the forehead

“Because, unfortunately, I need you. We,” he emphasizes gesturing between the two of you, “Need you, our entire world needs you.”

“You guys gonna fuck or fight?” The bartender comes back looking between Wade and Wolverine, clearly tired of having you all in his establishment. Wade looks at the man like he had sprouted a second head before slowly turning back to Wolverine.

“You gonna take that from him?”

“Yup.” The Wolverine says, sounding defeated, like he was tired of even putting up a fight.

“I can tell you sort of have this ‘don’t get too close, I’ll only break your heart’ vibe going here, but every other Wolverine would have really hurt me by now and we’re sort of on the tic-tic, so upsy-daisy.” Wade said standing to his feet pulling Wolverine up from his barstool. He shoves Wade back away from him and you rush behind Wade to pull him away from him at the tell tale snikt sound of his claws coming out, only when you looked down at his balled fists you could only see just the tip of them peeking through his tanned skin, as if he had stopped himself midway from fully pulling them out.

“Whiskey dick with the claws huh? It’s quite common in Wolverines over 40.” Wade jokes half heartedly trying to diffuse the situation or make it worse, you weren’t quite sure.

“Trust me pal, you don’t want this.” The Wolverine said his voice husky as he stared you two down silently pleading for you to leave before he hurt you like he hurt the others.

Sighing heavily Wade pulls out a gun and presses it to Wolverine’s head “Unless you want to take a deep breath through your fucking forehead, I suggest you reconsider.” He gestured to the door with it. “Let’s go, Peanut.”

With a laugh the Wolverine leans into the gun’s muzzle staring right at Wade.

You had had enough. Walking around Wade you stand in between the two men, placing one arm on Wolverine's shoulder and the other on Wade’s arm silently asking him to lower his gun, which he did just ever so slightly, before turning your attention back to Wolverine.

“Look, Wade isn’t always the best at articulating what he needs without making it a joke, but we really do need your help.”

With a snort Wolverine shrugs off your burning touch from his shoulder, you were making him hot, too hot for the stuffy bar, so he reaches back over the bar to grab the bottle of jack again. God you even sounded just like her.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time, Wolverine!”

“Don’t call me that.”

He hated it when you called him Wolverine.

“Please! Just please!” You cried out grabbing him by his sleeve, he turned to look at you again, his eyes searching your face.

“We really need you! You’re the only one who can fix this! Trust me I would take literally anybody other than you if I could,” you said, growing increasingly frustrated and irritated with the man in front of you.

Ouch.

“But it has to be you! So are you gonna be that somebody or not?”

The Wolverine gets closer to you, you can practically smell the alcohol and his natural musk radiating off of him at his close proximity. He looks at you for a long while as if mulling over what you had just said to him before answering with a “Not.”

“Oh you motherf-!”

You were cut off as Wolverine stands to his full height, towering over you. He grabs at the barrel of Wade’s gun, drunkenly to steady himself as he chuckles. He holds up a finger telling you both to wait as he proceeds to chug down the rest of the nearly full bottle of jack.

“Good God. Thirsty little honey badger, aren’t ya?” Wade looks at him in shock, just as Wolverine pulls the now empty bottle away and goes to reply he hiccups before stumbling and dropping to the ground completely dead to the world.

“I guess you’ll have to do.” Wade groans holstering his gun and going to grab the now passed out Wolverine by his shirt, just as he goes to lift he spots something yellow peeking from underneath.

“Ooh. Look at those jammies.” He said as he starts to unbutton the Wolverine’s shirt. “That only took 20 fucking years!”

Heaving him up on his shoulder Wade groans at the weight of his limp adamantium skeleton, and starts to drag him outside with you following close behind.

“Quick help me get his clothes off, Nugget!” He said dropping the man unceremoniously to the ground as he continued to unbutton his clothes.

“Wade what the fuck are you doing?!” You snap at his hands as he strips him down to his superhero costume underneath.

It was bright yellow with blue accents with light scuffs and scratches on it, it was tight to him, almost like a second skin, his gloved hands adorned with special slots for his claws to pop out, just like in your old comic books, you almost couldn’t tear your eyes away from him as they dragged down his body.

“Eye fuck him some more why don’t you.” Wade said suggestively and if he wasn’t wearing the mask you know he’d be wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You stutter trying to defend yourself as you feel your cheeks heat up. Ignoring you Wade stands back to his feet, slinging one of Wolverine’s arms over his shoulders as he shoulders his weight. Opening up the TVA device he stole, Wade types something in and opens up a new portal. “Save your lady boner for later Nugget we got a timeline to save!”

You wanted to stop him and tell him that the man he was carrying was insufferable even after only knowing him for a solid 10 minutes and that there was no way he’d have you hot in the pants with the way he was acting but your gut was overcome with a feeling of uncertainty.

A feeling that told you that going back to the TVA would be a trap, but knowing that like always once Wade had his mind set on something that was it, you simply tucked your much smaller self under Wolverine’s other shoulder and helped Wade through the portal.

[vxsellie]

‧₊˚┊simple living things﹗

a hunger games!au ellie williams fanfiction.⌇ 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭 𝔦

summary. reaping day. something ellie is rather indifferent towards, wanting only to return back to the warm embrace of nature. meanwhile you're the complete opposite, today being one that'll determine your fate, as well as your placement in your family. this chapter follows the alternate experiences that the two of you go through.

content warnings. depictions of dead animals, domestic abuse, implications of slavery (avoxes). if you see anything else that i missed, pls let me know!

total wc. 10,815

notes!! she's here!!! chapter one of this beauty!!! i've proofread this at least fifty times and i'm still not happy with it, but! here's the reminder that this fic is formatted and meant for ao3, not tumblr (hence why it's so goddamn long). anyway, i advise you read it there rather than here for that reason. it's updated sooner and i actually make sure that it's intelligible. the link is right here ↓

𝜗𝜚 series masterlist ⸝⸝ playlist ⸝⸝ ao3 𝜗𝜚

11:46.

DISTRICT SEVEN.

“Again?” Ellie’s groggy cavil is muffled against the crook of Cat’s neck. Her freckled face is buried into the warmth of the woman’s bare skin, chasing the comfort her proximity provides.

Cat huffs an airy laugh, her fingers absentmindedly running along an auburn scalp. “We’ve gone over this.”

“Yeah, but,” Ellie props up on her elbows to frown at her, “You went last year.”

“It’s a good thing if they’re asking me to attend again, Ellie.” Cat reminds her as she’s done at least fifty times by now. Despite her dwindling patience, Cat’s eyes are filled with naught but fondness as they clash with a pair of viridescent irises. Ellie continues to frown at her, adamant in her show of defiance. Cat continues to fiddle with her choppy hair as she speaks. “The Capitol is extremely picky with their stylists. It’s an honor to work for them, not to mention being chosen by them.”

Ellie has to swallow back the words that crawl up her throat and threaten to spill. Words of which vocalize her personal repugnance for the Capitol. She and Cat have gotten into plenty of fights regarding this topic and she refuses to cause another — especially considering the news she’s been trying to avoid facing all morning.

“I won’t see you for, like, a month.” Ellie grumbles before flopping back down onto Cat’s chest. She turns her head so her ear is pressed against her ribs, the gentle thudding of Cat’s heartbeat almost soothing enough to distract her from the world that envelops them.

Their bare bodies are pressed flush together as Ellie continues to listen to the repetition of her palpitating organ. She can feel Cat’s fingers toying with her hair, the soft caresses providing a sense of calamity. Her chest rises and falls, Ellie’s head shifting alongside each breath she takes. The intimacy it takes for to be near someone in this way — especially for Ellie — is oftentimes overlooked and seen only as crude or lustrous. However, in this case, they’re simply enjoying one another’s presence. Nothing vulgar about it.

Oh how Ellie wishes she could stay like this forever. In this little oasis of solace she’s founded for herself. Waking with Cat in her bed whilst morning sunlight filters through the window and casts golden hues over hardwood flooring. It’s nigh impossible to imagine that in only a few hours they’ll be separated for an indefinite epoch as Cat is escorted off to the Capitol while Ellie remains here.

She shuts her eyes, arms tightening around Cat’s waist as she wishes to cherish what little time she has left with her. Cat doesn’t dare cease playing with her hair, delicate fingers toying with the strands. 

Comfortability, domesticity, safety. That’s what Ellie feels when she’s near Cat — like nothing in the whole world could reach her. Like they’ve left the horrors of their District and are now floating through the cosmos all alone. Just the two of them. Though she knows better than to voice that to Cat, having found out the hard way that she doesn’t feel the same.

What they have is impermanent, said Cat when Ellie questioned her on fidelity, it has to be, she’d said. Even now, Ellie is unsure what that was supposed to mean. But she didn’t pry any further, for fear of damaging the fragility of what relationship, or lack thereof, they’d formed. Ever since, Ellie has learned to keep her feelings locked away in a hidden corner of her mind, making sure they never come forth to have the dust blown away. 

“Ellie!”

They both jolt to attention as the bedroom door flies open, doorknob slamming against the thick wooden wall behind it. Ellie sits up and narrows her eyes at the perpetrator, only to roll them once she comes to realize who it is.

“What do you want, Riley?” Ellie grumbles, flopping back against Cat as Riley enters the room. 

“I want to know why you’re still in bed.” Riley responds, stepping over the clothes on the floor with an upturned lip. Half of them are Cat’s from the night prior. Riley seems to instantly realize this, likely because she’s known Ellie well enough to know that she doesn’t wear Capitol-made dresses. Riley puts her hands on her hips, frowning at her best friend who remains cuddled up against her– Cat. “The Reaping is today and you’re still in bed.”

“It’s in two hours.” Ellie is quick to point out.

“I don’t care if it’s in twenty hours, you’re getting out of bed.” She says, picking up Ellie’s discarded clothes from the floor and tossing them at her. They land where her legs are tangled with Cat’s underneath the thin plaid blanket that’s draped lazily atop them. Riley begins to walk out of the room with a pointed expression before calling over her shoulder, “Oh. And these are Marlene’s orders, by the way.” Then she shuts the door.

Ellie sighs heavily, not yet ready to get up. If anything, she cozies even closer against Cat’s bare chest as she once again listens to the comforting thumps of her heart.

“God, she’s so demanding.” Cat scoffs. “I don’t understand how you put up with her.”

“I barely can.” She responds, causing Cat’s eyes to widen at the unexpected concurrence. “But she’s taken care of me since I was a baby, I owe it to her.”

Cat’s initial shock instantly dissipates. “I don’t mean Marlene, Ellie. I’m talking about Riley.”

Ellie sighs once more, her lips thinning. She knows that Cat and Riley don’t exactly get along. Well. Okay, that’s a major understatement. They literally despise each other. In every aspect that Cat admires the Capitol, Riley loathes it. They butt heads all the time, only ever speaking when it’s absolutely necessary and, even then, it oftentimes ends up in fighting. Ellie tries her hardest to keep them as far apart as possible, hating when they speak ill of the other.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now.” She mutters, having to force herself to sit up. The plaid blanket falls from her shoulders, pooling around her waist. The cool air chills her and goosebumps instantly begin to adorn her fair skin. She quickly reaches to the foot of the bed to grab the clothes Riley had tossed her way. Cat remains in bed as Ellie stands to get dressed, pulling on a frayed hoodie and worn jeans. “I just don’t want to have to choose between you two, that’s all.”

As she laces her shoes, it’s hard not to take notice of Cat’s lack of response. Ellie lifts her head to see the frown that’s plastered onto her features, the sight of it causing her to sigh. She walks over to the bed, shoes lightly padding across the old wooden floor. She leans one hand on the mattress beside Cat’s head, her other coming up to lift her jaw. She presses a kiss to her lips.

“You know where I keep the key.” Ellie whispers, pulling back only slightly as her hand remains on Cat’s chin. “You can get back to sleep and leave whenever you want, yeah? You need rest.” 

Cat nods, “Okay.”

With one final kiss goodbye, Ellie leaves. On her way out the door, she grabs her backpack from under her desk, swinging it over her shoulder before shutting the door gently behind her. Not yet ready to part ways with Cat, she stands in the hall for a few long minutes, using this time to straighten out her thoughts. 

After the Reaping, Cat will be gone for an indefinite duration as the stylists are taken to the Training Center alongside the two tributes. Not to mention, if the opportunity is provided, she knows Cat wouldn’t hesitate to stay to live in the Capitol forever. And everyone knows how much they love her there. It’s truly a matter of time before she’s promoted to a full-time Capitolite. The mere thought sends a chill down her spine.

Ellie heaves a sigh, mentally cursing anything and everything that relates to their fucked up government before she turns to walk down the hall. Her shoes thud against the floor as she attempts to calm herself, the repetition of her stride mocking that of Cat’s heartbeat. Nigh tauntingly. 

Turning a corner, she spots Riley standing in the kitchen. Her back is facing her as she peers out the window at the passerbyers that straggle down the street. District seven isn’t usually this busy, most citizens at work by now. But it’s Reaping Day and therefore one of the few days of the year that everyone gets off work. Parents cater to their kids, teens get into mischief with their friends, pets are walked through the neighborhood. Though, regardless of how one’s morning is spent, everyone will be amassed in town square by two o’clock. If not, they’re to be imprisoned.

Ellie slows her movements, footsteps now inaudible before she jumps out at Riley, causing the other girl to shriek. She nearly drops the glass in her hands as she whips around to scowl at Ellie. “You scared me!” She reprimands her, frowning.

“Yeah,” Ellie laughs, “That was the whole point?”

Riley rolls her eyes at this. “Whatever.”

She leans forward to set the glass back on the counter, a light clink sounding throughout the space as she does so. Ellie had expected it to be a glass of water or some other form of drink. Instead, it’s a vase holding an array of flowers that Ellie has built the habit of collecting on their daily outings. At first, it annoyed Riley the way Ellie would stop whatever she was doing to pick a flower and stuff it between the pages of her journal. It would interrupt the flow of their expedition. Though, with time, she’s grown used to it and even finds herself taking notice of pretty flowers in Ellie’s absence.

“Are you finally ready to go?” Riley asks, turning back around to face her friend with her eyebrows raised. Ellie gestures down to herself — dressed and obviously ready. Riley chuckles, rolling her eyes fondly before brushing past her.

The two of them exit the small wooden home and begin their journey toward the treeline. Four buildings down, they pass Riley’s house. After graduation, they’d chosen this neighborhood due to its proximity to the woods and the fact that two houses were simultaneously for sale closeby. And here they are, three years later, still fleeing to the foliage every morning.

The low hum of conversation isn’t foreign to District seven, but it’s rather uncommon way out here. To get this type of commotion, you’d usually have to be closer to town where the markets are. That’s where most people spend their time, trading supplies. The circumstances aren’t nearly as dire as in District twelve, but they’re certainly not as wealthy as the Capitol. Starving to death here is rare, but not at all impossible. 

“So,” Riley speaks up after a few minutes of comfortable silence before turning to Ellie with a regaled expression, “You’re sleeping with Cat again?”

“I never stopped sleeping with her.” Ellie says pointedly. 

What she doesn’t say is, It’s just grown more common as you’ve grown more distant from me.

She sighs. “I’m not gonna give you shit for it because you already know how I feel about her. But I want to know, is she going to be a stylist again in this year's Games?”

“Ugh,” Ellie groans, “You know I’m not allowed to go around telling people. She’s technically not even supposed to tell me. We could be arrested for disclosing information about the Games prior to their airing. We could be made into Avox for it. And, I don’t know about you, but I quite like my tongue.”

“Yeah, so does Cat.” Riley adds with a disgusted expression.

Ellie laughs, slapping her in the arm. “Gross!”

“What’s gross is walking in on your best friend naked on top of some Capitolite.” She grumbles. 

“We weren’t even doing anything!” 

“Yeah, luckily!” She replies with a laugh before another repulsive thought dawns on her. “Oh, and you didn’t even lock the door!”

To that, Ellie has no excuse. “Well– Okay yeah, fine. That’s definitely on me.”

Riley grins at her victoriously as they continue down the sidewalk. The air is practically buzzing with activity. With naught else to occupy their time, the people of the lumber District naturally swarm toward the woods. It’s in their blood. Even more so for Ellie and Riley, who spend their mornings in the woods even when they should technically be applying for jobs.

Yeah, the two of them have received that lecture from Marlene more times than anyone could count — that they’re adults and should therefore be forming some sort of a career path before they’re rendered undesirably old to any future employers. But, unbeknownst to Marlene, the two of them do have a job. Perhaps not a formal one, but it’s enough to keep the bills paid and water running. And, to a pair of girls in their early twenties, that’s more than they could ask for.

See, Riley and Ellie have built a routine. One where they awake at dawn, meet up at Ellie’s house for breakfast, then walk to the woods and spend the following few hours there. They cut trees, chop wood, hunt animals, etc. Then, at noon, they head toward what’s known as the Hob — basically a black market for those desperate enough to trade their hard earned quarry for a bit of cash. It’s located inside an abandoned paper mill, packed full with hundreds of buyers meandering about the derelict space. Every District has their own version of a Hob, well, perhaps not the richer Districts, but twelve is sure to have a huge one that would make seven’s dull in comparison. That thought alone is enough to ease Ellie’s conscience whenever she feels guilty for the illegality behind her line of work. If any of the Peacekeepers in her District found out about the Hob, all participants are sure to be hanged or, at bare minimum, given a whipping — both of which would be public as to make an example of the persecutors. To imagine Ellie hanging from a noose or tied to a pole whilst everyone else watched, while Marlene watched? It makes her stomach churn. So, habitually, she simply ignores the lack of validity to her actions. Plus, there's no malice to her intentions. She’s just a young woman who wants to put food on the table. Is that so much to ask for? She thinks not.

Anyway. Riley and Ellie basically run that place. Everyone knows them there, recognizing the two women the instant they enter the mill. They always have the good shit — perfectly chopped wood alongside undamaged game — and are willing to be paid less than others because they tend to have a higher quantity and manage to amass a large sum in spite of their lowered payment. However, seeing as everyone is off work today, it’s rather awkward to see the people of the Hob out on the streets. Because they all know better than to acknowledge the illegal trading they participate in religiously. 

Ellie walks silently beside Riley, the unspoken tension in the air doubling in size whenever they recognize someone. The Peacekeepers are large in aggregate today as well, managing to make this impossibly more nerve wracking. The town square is packed full with Capitolites who are setting up for the Reaping, hence everyone now on this side of the District as they look for something to busy themselves with. And, as said before, the woods are evidently everyone’s collective first choice.

“You nervous?” Riley asks as they enter the woods, the familiar scent of pine and dirt wafting toward them. The air is chilly, yet not unbearably so. It’s a nice medium that Ellie finds herself enjoying. She turns, raising a brow in inquiry. Riley digresses, “For the Reaping.”

She shrugs, “Not really. The Hunger Games are morbid, yeah, but they’re a fact of life. If I get Reaped, what good will it do to have worried about it that morning? I feel that fate is predetermined. Whatever happens, you can’t change it so you might as well live regularly until it’s foisted upon you.”

“Um, wow?” Riley gives her a peculiar look. “Since when did you get all philosophical?”

Ellie huffs a laugh, “I’m just saying.”

“I agree that the Games are morbid.” Riley shakes her head with a sigh, dry leaves crunching under their feet as they trek further into the woods. “But why should we have to live in fear while those in the Capitol live in ignorant bliss? It’s immoral and dehumanizing.”

Ellie agrees with her, of course, though she finds herself glancing over their shoulder fretfully before turning to frown at her friend. “Be quiet, Riley. Peacekeepers are fucking everywhere today.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She huffs. “But I mean it.”

“Yes, I know you mean it.” Ellie rolls her eyes. “And I mean it when I say I don’t want to see you punished for your brutal honesty. Truly, it’ll be the death of you.”

Riley laughs before they fall into another comfortable silence. 

Despite the wordlessness being one of easement, it’s foreign to them both. As of late, Riley has been progressively growing more and more distant, causing an awkward rift between the pair. They still go about their usual routines each day and share moments of fond laughter, but it’s different. Only a few months ago, there’d not be a single second of silence as the two would oftentimes end up talking over the other in a coveted rush to share random information. Even after a day’s work had finished, they’d frequently wind up at one of their houses for the night — watching television, feasting on game, or just sharing the space. It got to the point where it was more rare to be without the other than with them.

But now, Ellie feels as though they spend more time in silence than in conversation. Take present for example. Had this happened in July, one of them would undoubtedly be rambling on about something. Though, as it turns out, that’s not currently the case.

Ellie has yet to bring it up to Riley, fearing she’ll say something she’s not ready to hear. She hasn’t even a guess in her mind what could have brought this upon them, but whatever it is, it’s drastic. Hence why she’s recently been hanging around Cat more often, using the woman to both distract herself from her childlike friendship issues as well as make herself feel better. Because Cat always knows how to comfort Ellie, even when she’s not entirely aware of what the problem is.

They continue to walk through the woods, their footsteps nigh inaudible as they’ve grown skilled at adapting to nature. After a few minutes of trekking through the foliage, Riley stops and turns around expectantly. Ellie instantly removes her backpack and crouches to the ground as she sifts through it. She pulls out an axe — which barely even fits inside the bag — and passes it to Riley, who takes it gratefully. Ellie then hands the bag to Riley, who positions it on her back with a few shoulder shrugs.

Where they stopped wasn’t randomized, though. Not entirely. Because, a few yards away is a fallen tree, hollowed out in the center to create a tunnel-like log. They walk over to it, Riley tossing the axe back and forth between her hands. Ellie crouches down and reaches into the log, feeling around the dampened bark until her fingers brush against the coveted items. She pulls out a bow and quiver, adding them to her newly emptied shoulders. 

See, they can’t exactly be caught carrying weapons through the District or the Peacekeepers will know they’re hunting illegally. So, as an alternative, they hide the weapons deep in the woods where nobody else would think to look. Fairly smart on their part, Ellie thinks.

“So,” Ellie muses as they begin walking through the woods once more, “This morning, you said you woke me under Marlene’s orders. What exactly did she say?”

“I talked to her last night.” She explains, swinging the axe back and forth. Had Ellie not done this with her a million times before, she’d likely be fearing for her life. But that axe is quite literally an extension of Riley’s arm, moving as though it’s a part of her. It's, admittedly, rather impressive. “She told me to make sure you’re awake at least an hour prior to the Reaping.”

“Ugh, she doesn’t trust me to do anything.”

“Can you blame her?” She laughs. “You were nearly late to the Reaping last year. Had you arrived less than five minutes after you had, the Peacekeepers would have placed you under arrest.”

“I think my timing was impeccable.” Ellie argues, pointing her chin up in an act of superiority. 

As she does, something in the trees catches her eye and she suddenly stops in her tracks, Riley quick to do the same. She nocks an arrow, the head instantly pointed in the direction of the movement. After a few seconds of tense silence, a squirrel chitters before ignorantly traipsing across the branch. She releases the arrow and it lands right in its eye, so as not to damage the meat. It hits the ground with a thud. Ellie grins widely as she walks to retrieve the corpse as well as the arrow.

“Talk about timing.” Riley whistles, following close behind.

“What did I say?” She responds, positioning the squirrel to hang from her belt. “Impeccable.”

“Yeah, maybe in terms of your aim, but not in your vigilance.” Riley points out.

“Whatever.” Ellie waves her hand to dismiss the accusation. “Shut up and go chop your wood.”

Riley laughs but obliges, turning to leave the scene. Ellie can’t even listen to her footsteps depart, as she’s rather adept at masking their boistry. But she can tell when she’s gone, though, because the atmosphere alters — shifting from one shared between lifelong friends to one of solitude in the middle of nowhere. And yet, despite the latter being far less preferred by many, Ellie relishes in it. The lack of eyes on her is comforting rather than eerie. 

She treks through the trees until she finds a slightly elevated patch of land, allowing her to look down on the forest below her — though, only by a couple feet. But any altitude is better than nothing. She crouches behind a bush and nocks a second arrow, waiting for something to pass by.

Ellie manages to shoot a few more squirrels and a couple of rabbits throughout the following hour they spend in the woods. She then lets out a three-note whistle as she stands to her feet. She’s brushing off her jeans when the same whistles tune is repeated back to her a few hundred yards to the East. Riley. 

They’d come up with this tactic a few years back, where once one of them had finished up for the day, they let out a whistle to let the other know of their completion. Then, if the sound reaches the other, they’ll return it.

They split up like this because Ellie requires quiet in order to hunt whereas Riley tends to make quite a bit of ruckus during her wood-chopping. Ellie’s still gathering her things when a twig snaps a few feet away. She doesn't need to look up to know who it is.

“What’d you catch?” Riley asks as she approaches her from behind.

“Nothing good.” She admits. “Just squirrels and rabbits.”

“That’s not bad, though.” 

“Yeah, animals are so scarce today due to all the people’s proximity to the treeline. I could sometimes catch the sound of their talking. Even from way out here.” Ellie says as she finishes packing up and turns to face Riley, who’s holding an armful of chopped wood. “Here, turn around.”

Without question, Riley does. Ellie unzips the bag and holds out a hand for a piece of wood. Riley passes it back to her and she loads the wood one-by-one into the pack. She then adds the axe and zips it — well, partially. A few inches of the handle remains sticking out, though it’s doubtful anyone will question the contents of the bag. Not when so much is going on today.

They head back to the mouth of the woods, making sure to return the bow and quiver into the hollowed log on their way by. In minutes, they’re emerging from the trees and walking back through the streets, which appear to have grown even busier in their absence. They’d walked in silence the entire way.

“Welp.” Riley says once they’ve reached Ellie’s porch and she’s returned the bag — which has tripled in weight with the addition of the axe and wood. “See you at the Reaping?”

She sighs dramatically, “I guess so. Not like I want to go anyway.”

“Marlene would fucking kill you.” Riley laughs and Ellie joins in, imagining the enraged expression on Marlene’s face had she not shown up. She couldn't get away with it regardless, though. Riley was right when she said the Peacekeepers would either imprison or hang her. It’s happened to someone before — an old man ripped from his home and put in an icy cold cell for the rest of his short life. He’d apparently used the excuse of saying he was in a wheelchair, but that wasn't enough for the District’s law enforcement as they claimed he could easily be wheeled to the square. So, yeah, maybe the jokes of Ellie not showing up shouldn’t be pondered on but so much.

Once Riley has left, Ellie grabs her key from the top of a nearby windowsill. She notices that it’d moved a few inches to the left. Cat. She unlocks the door and enters her home, almost screaming to see the silhouette of a woman standing in her kitchen. Though she quickly regains normalcy when she recognizes the person’s frame.

“Fuck, Marlene.” She curses, putting a hand to her chest as she — as subtly as possible — slips the bag from her shoulders and places it on the floor next to the door. “You scared me.”

Marlene is wearing a dress, a nice one. The neck is in a deep V shape that shows off her collarbones and shoulders. The sleeves come to her elbows, the skirt to her mid-calves. It’s a soft maroon color, complimenting her dark skin and brown eyes beautifully. Ellie would accolade her for it had she not known it was for the Reaping and thereby the Capitol. However, being aware of that fact rather mars the beauty of her accentuated appearance.

Marlene turns to face her with a frown, “What were you two doing?”

“Seriously?” Ellie groans, walking over to grab a glass cup from the cabinet over Marlene’s head, having to shift around her to do so. “I was hanging out with my best friend before we witness two people being shipped off to die. Do I truly have to walk you step-by-step through everything I do?”

“Yes.” She begins filling the cup with faucet water, Marlene looming like a shadow over her shoulder. When Ellie doesn’t respond, she frowns. “Whatever. I don’t even care what you guys were doing, I just seek the consolation of knowing it was safe.”

“I’m an adult, Marlene. When will you–”

“Was it safe, Ellie?” She repeats, tone growing more agitated. 

“Yes.” She replies, the lie coming easy to her now. After all this time of being untruthful, it’s nearly second nature to withhold the truth from her mother-figure whenever she’s pestered on this recurring topic. She has a great poker face, too.

 She raises her brows as she takes a sip from her glass, peering at her from over the rim.

“Was it legal?” She questions and Ellie nearly spits out her water. Marlene scoffs at her reaction. “Okay, so I got my answer.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t need to!” She crosses her arms and gives Ellie that disapproving mom expression that could make anybody feel remorse. Ellie places her glass on the counter and holds her gaze, trying her hardest not to falter under it. “I assume you saw how many Peacekeepers are here, Ellie.”

“I’d be an idiot to not notice them.” She grumbles defiantly, sounding far more childlike than she’d care to admit. Marlene always manages to bring this side out of her — a scorned child who has no choice but to agree with everything she says. Despite how hard she tries to be mature and release herself from Marlene’s iron fist, it’s so far been proven impossible.

“So what were you thinking? I don’t care for the details of what you guys go out doing everyday so long as it’s legal.” She says. “You know that. It’s one of my only rules for you.”

The acknowledgement of their daily repetition is enough for Ellie to stiffen, not having realised Marlene even noticed their outings. However, now that she’s thinking of it, it makes sense. They've been doing this same routine for three years now. You’d have to be a fool to not notice. And Marlene is no fool.

“I know, I just–”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, cutting Ellie off with a sigh. “Just go wash up. I don’t want you smelling like a dead animal for the Reaping.”

The closeness in her comparison of the miasma to a corpse is nigh to laughable. Except it’s not. Because Marlene is unnerving. She cares for Ellie more than anything, yes, but she’s absolutely terrifying in her vehement need to protect her. 

But Ellie is an adult now. She doesn’t need protection.

Despite this, she follows her orders and trudges off to the bathroom, making sure to scoop up her backpack on her way down the hall.

She discards the bag of wood and lays the dead squirrel and rabbit corpses out on her bedroom floor. Normally, she’d place them in the kitchen to ready them for gutting but that’s, clearly, not a viable option. If Marlene were to see the quarry from their expedition, she’d absolutely lose her head. First, she’d force Ellie and Riley to get a job, and likely a boring one. She’d forbid them from using the forest for income. And, in those two short acts of discipline, Ellie’s life would be over. The woods are her home; her place of solace. Without it, who is she?

She then heads into the bathroom and takes a bath, scrubbing all the dirt and grime from her skin before redressing into something a bit more fancy — though it’s definitely not Capitol material as everyone else typically aims for. She’s simply wearing a nicer pair of jeans and a flannel. The collar and buttons make it fancy. Kinda.

When she returns to the kitchen, she’s still drying her hair with the towel. Marlene looks her up and down and frowns, though she says nothing. 

See, if one is Reaped today, they’re taken to the Capitol. As such, they’re traditionally expected to wear their nicest clothes to the Reaping, just in case their name is drawn. But Ellie cares naught to make any lasting impressions on the Capitol, so she doesn’t give a shit what she wears. The sole reason she’s wearing even a button up is to please Marlene enough so she’s not forced into something else. 

Because, when she was fourteen, she tried to wear a t-shirt to the Reaping and was instantly reprimanded. As punishment, she had to wear something Marlene picked out. Needless to say, never again will she do that. Even now Riley laughs at her for the outfit, though Marlene insists it was the most distinguished Ellie had ever looked. She begs to differ.

“Okay, you ready?” Marlene asks.

Ellie shrugs, “Yeah.”

They head down to the square, the entirety of District seven doing the same. The waves of people grow larger and larger the closer they get to the square until it’s practically a tsunami of them. Once they reach their destination, they pause and turn to each other. Marlene looks down at Ellie, a glint of something unreadable behind her gaze, almost as though she wishes to say something to her prior to parting ways. But instead of voicing whatever it is that’s weighing on her, she just pats her shoulder and walks away.

The crowd is sorted by generation. Everyone between the ages of twelve and fifty are required to be within the crowd as their names are among those able to be Reaped. The younger kids are positioned closest to the stage whilst the older crowd is near the back. Ellie stands with her age group, picking at the peeling skin around her nails as she awaits the ceremony’s exordium. 

The stage before them has been added purely for the Reaping, as it’s not usually present. Atop it resides a podium, a table with a bowl of tiny slips of papers, and three chairs at the back of the stage — one for the District’s mayor, one for the escort, and one for the mentor of this year’s tributes. Camera crews are perched like buzzards atop the neighboring buildings, readying themselves to document the coming show. Each District is going through the exact same procedure. Tonight, each footage will be broadcasted across all televisions in the country.

About twenty more minutes pass, the square growing supplementarily crowded with each passing second. When the clock strikes twelve, three people are in their corresponding chairs. Ellie hadn’t even noticed their arrival. 

The mayor, whose name she doesn’t know despite having heard it repeated throughout her entire life, sits in the far right chair, his jaw set as he overlooks the citizens. The District escort resides in the center chair, a Capitol woman with bright blue hair and a smile that’s so pearly white that it’s almost inhuman — Ellie doesn’t know her name either. The only person whose name she’s sure of is the man sitting in the left chair. That’s Joel Miller. The victor of the 56th Games. Word is, he’s not a pleasant man. Though, Ellie supposes no sane victor would be. Returning from a murderous arena after all other twenty-three tributes have fallen must be the emptiest feeling known to man. She has a deep respect for Joel, despite never having properly met him.

The mayor steps up to the podium and begins reading off his script. The story of how their country came to be. Ellie tunes it out, instead glancing around the crowd for Cat. It takes her an embarrassingly long time before she remembers that she’s absent from the ceremony due to her being the District seven stylist this year. Ellie turns back to the stage just as the escort steps up to the podium.

“Happy Hunger Games!” Says she. “And may the odds be ever in your favor!” 

The slogan has grown old and worn out by now, everyone having heard it an indefinite quantity of times. Ellie wouldn’t be surprised if she mumbles it in her sleep. 

Once more, she finds herself tuning out the rest of the woman’s speech. Despite her lack of listening not resulting in anything beneficial, it makes her feel better. Like she’s showing the Capitol that they don’t control her. Not like the Capitol gives a fuck if one measley twenty-one year old is tuning out the speeches. But whatever. It makes her feel ameliorated and that’s all that matters.

“Here we go.” The escort says before diving her hand into the bowl of names. The glass sphere is packed full with slips of paper, each one reading a citizen’s name. The entire square is holding their breath as they await the name. The entire country is — as every District is being Reaped at the same time. The woman pulls a slip of paper from the bowl and reads it aloud with a grin. “Riley Abel.”

Ellie’s heart drops to her stomach, body frozen in place as the name is spoken. The world feels far away as she watches Riley walk up the stage and stand beside the escort. Riley’s chin is held high, her eyes dullened; they lack the vibrancy that Ellie adores so much. She’s the epitome of strength, standing on that stage as she’s set to be broadcasted across the entire country. 

Ellie knows that expression though. Riley isn’t sad or mourning. She’s pissed.

Fuck. She should have done something. But it all happened so fast. And now the escort’s hand is diving right back into the bowl for a second tribute.

“Aaaand,” She sing-songs before lifting her head joyously, “Ellie Williams.”

11:46.

DISTRICT 4.

“Again.” Your mother’s tone is sharp as a dagger as she thumps the end of her cane against tiled flooring, demanding more, more, more from you. Her voice is tinny, filed through an intercom overhead. To your left is a one-way mirror that scales the entire 20ft wall, through which she pedantically watches your every movement. Though you’re unable to see her, she sees you. And that fact in itself is enough to make you vigilent.

Sweat coats your skin as you reposition yourself, squaring your shoulders and planting your feet in preparation. Your expression is hardened, purposefully so under your mother’s gaze. Her scrupulousness is nigh to tangible, made palpable by the heavy weight on your shoulders, the stiffness in your muscles, the tell-tale feel of her eyes scanning you. 

Then, in a flash of flickering blue, holographic opponents begin to charge at you. These humanoid figures are translucent in visibility, but their hits land just as genuinely in spite of their pellucidity. You’ve been fighting them all morning — another cause of the fatigue in your bones.

A few sessions prior, you’d been permitted the use of weapons. Your mother had instructed you to train with each one interchangeably. She wished to see which you were best and worst at — which ended up being throwing daggers and a trident, respectively. The daggers allow you close-combat, which you’re rather skilled at, as a product of these training sessions, whereas the trident’s weight is off balanced and leaves you fumbling with it for a few seconds prior to use. She soon grew bored with the weapons, though, and instructed you to fight bare handedly. Just to be sure you can. 

There are currently three holograms presented to you — one with a burly build, one with a dainty build, and one that resides between the two. 

The muscular opponent is the first to strike, swinging a right hook toward your jaw. You dodge it, ducking easily under its arm. Whilst straightening back up, the smaller figure grabs you by the hair. Your head is yanked backward. You whip around, snatching the figure by the wrist and throwing its body over your head onto the floor. It lands with a hard thud before you bring the heel of your boot down onto its throat. With a light puff of air, the hologram disintegrates.

One down, two left.

Without a moment’s pause, you spin around to face the other two diaphanous forms. The intermediate combatant surges forward, arm reeled back in preparation for a punch. You swerve out of its way, the figure staggering forward as it misses you by a mere three inches. You kick it in the back of the legs, sending the hologram on its knees. You’re positioned behind it, pulling it into a headlock. 

The sounds it makes is eerily human as it coughs and sputters, blue fingers grasping with desperation at your forearm. You’re used to this though, the cruel personification behind these lifeless things. You snap its neck with a deafening crack. It disappears.

Two down, one left.

When you turn around, the burly one is already behind you. It’s at least three times your size, but you’re undeterred. You stand upright and ready your fists. 

With a grunt, it charges toward you. You sidestep, but it anticipates this and turns in unison. You back away, putting yourself out of reach, your arms coming up to block your face. It swings and you duck subsequently. While crouched, you grab its left calf and pull, lifting the leg uncomfortably high. The oversized figure hops awkwardly on its right limb. You then hook your foot behind the ankle of the remaining leg it’s balancing on, sending it plummeting toward the ground. 

You’re quick to position yourself atop it, straddling the hologram’s chest. It thrashes beneath you, squirming around like a trapped insect. It’s only a matter of time before it throws you aside due to uneven weight advantages. But you had surprised it and therefore withhold the ascendancy. So, while you still have the upper hand, you lift your leg and drive your knees into its neck. With a gag, the hologram vanishes.

Done.

Your chest aches with exertion, lungs fighting for air as you pant. As such, you remain with your knees on the black matted floor in an attempt to catch your breath. You’ve been killing these things on repeat for the past three hours, your mother having woken you at seven in the morning to train. 

Frayed hair clings to dampened skin as sweat traces lines down your face. It drips from your chin onto the floor beneath you. Your pants and tank top are soaked, causing you to feel gross and sticky. You yearn for a shower.

You oftentimes have to remind yourself that your mother means well, that she’s pushing you so hard because she cares. But, at times like these — where your body is on the verge of collapse — you find yourself questioning her morality.

“You’re getting slow.” Comes her voice through the speaker system, as though on cue with your thoughts. A tap of her cane against the floor is heard prior to that singular word you dread so vehemently. 

“Again.”

It's truly no shock that you’re growing amble considering how long you’ve been at it. But to protest your mother’s orders would be a death wish. You’re still catching your breath as you push yourself to your feet, fully expecting another hoard of holograms to appear. 

Though, in their stead, a spear materializes before you. It’s equally as holographic as the figures you’re fighting, blue and crackling, but it kills them just as viable as you would.

As you lean over to pick it up, something kicks you hard in the base of your back. The force of impact sends you to the floor. Your elbows take the brunt of your fall, causing you to feel rather grateful for the mat. Still in a heap, you whip to face the perpetrator. A hologram; a singular female figure with a lean build. 

You should’ve known better than to let your guard down.

You glance at the spear concurrently, the weapon lying at a perfect distance between you two. Without vacillation, you hurriedly crawl toward it. The figure notices and kicks you hard in the face, its shoe slamming into the bridge of your nose. You land hard on your back as a wave of pain shoots through you, warm liquid tracing down your face. 

By the time you regain your sense, the hologram is thrusting the stolen weapon toward you. You roll out of its way, though the blade manages to slice your bicep. With a reverberated thud, the spearhead burrows into the mat where your head had just been.

You push to your feet, tugging the spear out of the cushioned floor. Now armed, you turn to the hologram. It doesn’t have a face but if it did, you’re sure it’d be glaring at you. The two of you circle one another like vultures, the hologram waiting for you to attack whilst you wait for the perfect angle. Then, once you’re positioned to your liking, you strike. You throw the spear at the diaphanous form. 

The blade whizzes through the air too fast for it to dodge, too fast for anyone to dodge. Your aim is undeniably precise as the point wedges right between your opponents eyes. With that, it disintegrates alongside the spear.

Even once the combatant has elapsed, you remain in that position — chest heaving, brows furrows, fists balled. A metallic taste fills your mouth as your nose continues to bleed down your face, getting past your lips. Your bicep mocks it, crimson tracing down your arm.

You await your mother’s reprimand via the intercom. Instead, you hear the door click open and her cane tap against the floor with every other step. She remains in the doorway, not wishing to enter the abhorrent room. She stands expectantly until you walk up to her.

“Your fatigue impairs your ability to fight.” She tuts, wrinkled lip upturned in distaste. You don’t respond, lowering your head as you wordlessly accept her criticism. “Had you been in the arena and those figures sentient, you’d likely have been long gone. Debility is no excuse for inadequacy. L/ns don’t lose.”

You nod, knowing better than to defend yourself.

She goes through each of your performances, telling you how every one was worse than the last. A few times, she mentions your brother, comparing the two of you in a way that makes your chest cave. Ruben wouldn’t have gotten his arm cut, Ruben wouldn’t have had his hair pulled, Ruben wouldn’t have hesitated when she added a child hologram into the mix.

Once she’s had her fill of castigation, she waves a hand to dismiss you. 

Your first course of action is to shower. Since your mother woke you so early, you were unable to change or eat prior to training. You enter the bathroom, peeling your sweaty clothes from your skin before stepping into the cool water. Your presence tints the liquid pink with blood as your arm and face stain its cleanliness.

You stand in the shower for a long time, relishing in the feel of the water as you allow your mind to roam. Though, despite how hard you try not to think of it, your thoughts continuously lapse back to your mother’s ceaseless mentions of your brother, her favored child.

See, Ruben won the 67th Hunger Games when he was only thirteen years old, becoming a legend in the Capitol and the light of your parents’ lives. He is the Capitol’s favorite victor, deemed the most attractive man in the country. Anyone would die to get a moment of his time, of his attention. People who the Capitol favor, idolize, and center their entire lives around are known as a ‘Capitol Diamond’. And Ruben is the shiniest of them all.

Your father won his Games two years prior to Ruben when you were only six, so you never knew him all that well. The memories you do have of him are rather bitter, invoking flashes of flailing fists and deafening shouts. Though, acting as a warm blanket to the chill of your father’s acerbity, Ruben appears in your memories like a deity. He’d cover your ears when your parents’ shouting bounced off the marble walls; he’d argue with your father whenever he’d hit you for breaking something trivial; he’d always take your side, even if you did technically break that vase. As a child, Ruben was an angel sent from above. But, now that you’re older, you know better than to deem him as such.

Anyway. Ruben and your father’s triumphs earned them both irrevocable places in the Capitol as diamonds as well as homes in District four’s Victor’s Village — leaving you and your mother to live alone in the house of which you were raised. In fact, your entire lineage is among the victors, aunts and uncles and cousins all diamonds of the Capitol and residents of the village. Well, most of them. Some of your relatives moved to higher Districts after their Games, seeking as much proximity to the Capitol as possible.

A L/n has never lost the Games, not in the entire seventy-three years they’ve been running. The mere thought of someone in your family failing to prevail is something unprecedented. 

You step out of the shower and wrap yourself into a towel, grabbing a suture kit from the cabinet under the sink. You pop it open and sit on the closed toilet seat before threading the needle. You’ve stitched yourself up plenty of times, the damned holograms annoyingly good at what they’re made to do — challenge you. 

By the time you’ve finished and your bicep is newly adorned in neat stitching, it’s one o’clock. You only have a short bit of time before the Reaping. As you put the kit back into the cabinet, a second thought dawns on you. 

Fuck! You think, eyes widening almost comically. Mister Alden will be here in ten minutes.

You tighten your towel around your body before padding down the hall to your bedroom. It’s overlarge, making you feel small. The walls are white with golden mouldings, the floors are made of marble tiles. To some, your family’s mansion would be a dream come true. Though, to you, it feels more like a prison than a home. It has ever since your brother left.

Your mother had an Avox lay your Reaping outfit out on your bed. It’s blue — as most clothing made for District Four is. It’s made of a deep navy satin, jewels embedded into the fabric. It’s absolutely gorgeous and you hate it.

Though, your personal thoughts on clothing matter naught. You once tried arguing with your mother on how extravagant your clothes were, saying it was ridiculous when people in lower Districts struggle for food. That comment earned you a week with minimal food. She said that if you pitied the peasants so greatly, she’d gladly treat you like one, claiming empathy to be far more valuable than sympathy. You’d never made another comment on your clothes again after that.

Though, you both knew her anger was rooted far deeper than your mere clothing preference. It was rooted in the underlying criticism you’d made in regards to the governing of your country — the unfair hierarchy of Districts. You never made a political comment after that, either. Not aloud anyway.

You pull the dress on, something symbolic always laced within the act of holding your tongue. 

Each curve and stitch is made specifically for your body, fitting perfectly. Trading fish in this gown will make for an odd sight, but you haven’t a choice. Mister Alden should be here any minute and the Reaping begins in less than an hour; multitasking is your only option.

The halls are just as pristine as your bedroom, walls decorated with fine art and the tile floor kept sparkling. Thanks to the unpaid Avoxes — which are former criminals whose punishments are to be made into servants for the Capitol. You live in the Districts, but your family is so cherished by Capitolites that you’re permitted to have an abundance of your own servants. Despite the fact that your mansion is tended to by over twenty Avoxes, you’ve never spoken to a single one. Not due to your own ignorance, but because their tongues are removed and they’re unable to speak.

One of them holds the door open for you on your journey out to the docks. You thank him shortly, though he doesn’t respond. 

Your house is beachfront, back porch providing a wooden path down to your own private piling dock. It’s unnecessarily fancy for your mother to inherit — who just happened to marry into a wealthy family — and you, who hasn’t even become a victor yet. And, if you’re never Reaped, you’ll have never deserved an ounce of what’s been given to you.

The path to the dock is a downward slope. Your house is built on a rocky cliff, hence the path’s existence. You hike your dress up as you rush down the wooden trail, though as soon as you do, you hear your mother’s past lectures ring through your head. “Never above the ankles!” She’d once said, slapping your hand with a stick to force you to drop the dress. Instinctively, you lower it.

You walk down to the dock, happy to see that it’s empty, Mister Alden not having yet arrived. Though, once you’ve reached the end of it, you hear the low hum of his boat’s motor putting through the salty water. He coasts up to the wooden structure. You reach out to catch him as the motor comes to a halt.

His boat is small, just big enough for one man to fit in. It’s made of metal with only one seat at the helm, situated beside the tilling outboard. 

Your family has bought from mister Alden all your life. When you were a kid and it was Ruben’s job to retrieve the fish, you would traipse behind him. You’d hobble behind him, small legs having to run in order to keep up with your elder brother's long gait. Then, once at the dock, you were rendered useless. You’d peer over mister Alden’s boat, nosily searching his belongings. You watched as Ruben would speak to mister Alden shortly, pay him graciously, hoist the net of seafood over his shoulder, then head back inside. Due to this, mister Alden watched you grow more than your own father had. And even though his presence is short and biweekly, you know the old man rather well.

Well enough to know that he has three grandkids and the oldest of them is a twelve year old girl whose first ever Reaping is today. 

“Oh, what a lovely outfit.” He smiles, crows feet creasing. He remains seated as you moor the boat to the cleats. The metal is so hot from endless days spent in the sun that it burns your hands at the touch. You don’t dare wince, knowing how fast mister Alden would rush to your aid. You’re sure he has enough on his plate what with his granddaughter. “I can carry the fish inside, if you’d like. Wouldn’t want you staining such a stunning dress.”

“It’s okay.” You’re quick to assure him, offering your hand to help him out of the boat once it’s tied off. He takes it, the man nigh senile in his old age. His hand shakes slightly as he steps onto the dock. “I can get the fish, mister Alden, I don’t mind.”

He smiles kindly, “You remind me so much of your brother.”

You don’t respond. You know he’s only saying that out of kindness, he has to be. Your mother ceaselessly reminds you of how different the two of you are. You try to ignore the comment as you lean over the boat to pull the huge net of fish from the creased hull. They’re blue in color, almost mimicking that of your dress, though their scales shine silver in the sunlight.

“Did you ever hear the story of Ruben’s first Reaping?” Mister Alden asks as you drop the net onto the dock, pausing to converse with him for a while despite knowing it’s a bad idea with your lack of time. “He only attended two Reapings, that poor boy. But his first one, I’ll never forget. It was the first time I met your mother, too, the nasty woman. He was out here retrieving fish, as our exchanges always seem to fall on Reaping Day. He was only twelve, but so determined to carry the fish all on his own. I offered my help at least a hundred times, to which he refused each one. He was strong, though, for his size. He managed to carry them all the way to the porch before the net caught on a twig and the fish fell all the way back down the pathway. Every single one.”

Your eyes widen. You recall this, though the memory is rather blurry to you as you were only seven at the time. That, and also because most of your memories with Ruben are tainted, not to be trusted in your bias. 

“What’d my mother do?” You ask, unable to help your childlike curiosity from rearing its head.

“Well,” He chuckles, though it lacks any sense of humor. “She wasn't happy, that’s for sure. Ruben instantly began to cry when he saw the effects of his mistake. I tried to assure him that it was okay and I could always deliver more fish, but he said that’s not why he was sad. He wasn’t mourning the loss of the fish. Instead, he was terrified of what your mother would do to him.” Mister Alden shakes his head, grey brows turned in an expression of dispirit. “No child that small should fear his own parent so vehemently.”

You frown. In every aspect where your mother lacks morality, mister Alden has a myriad of it. The old man is practically overflowing with sympathy at all times. He’d always treated you and Ruben as his own, offering comfort whenever you seek it and kind words whenever you forget they even exist.

Just as he’s about to continue his story, your mother’s voice is heard. It’s shrill as she shouts your name. Chills trace down your spine at the sound. Mister Alden gives you a pitying expression before you pass him a small pouch of coins for payment, lift the net over your shoulder, and begin the trek back up to your porch. The sound of his motor starting up carries through the air as you approach your mother.

She’s wearing a baby blue dress, just as fancy as yours — if not more. Her usual wooden cane has been swapped out for a fancier golden one. Her hair is done up in a neat braid, gold heeled shoes adorning her wrinkled feet. 

She shoots you a scowl before entering the house, dropping the door on you despite knowing you’re carrying a huge weight of seafood. It slams into your side, the corner of it landing on your stitched bicep. You wince, struggling for only a moment before an Avox rushes to your aid and holds it wide for you. You don’t dare thank her in front of your mother.

You enter the kitchen, placing the bag of fish onto the marble counter.

“We have less than twenty minutes before the Reaping!” She spits, rage evident in her tone as she watches you set it down. “Your feet are dirty and bare, your hair is matted, and you reek of fish!”

“I didn’t—” You begin, though you’re quick to stop yourself, remembering her order of not speaking unless asked to do so.

A sharp pain shoots through your cheek as she slaps you across the face for having spoken out of turn. You lower your head, mouth now sealed shut. She turns to give orders to the Avoxes — instructing two of them to put your hair up, one to put your shoes on, and three to gut and clean the fish prior to your return from the Reaping.

They’re quick to do so, rushing around to oblige.

You’re directed to a stool, two servants doing your hair into some intricate design whilst another crouches in front of you to slip on your shoes. They’re a pair of silver heels that match the jewels on your dress. In record time, the other two complete the updo, holding out a hand mirror for you to examine the design. Two thin braids wrap around the crown of your head, a neat bun resting at the nape of your neck. It’s beautiful considering how little time they had.

“I love it.” You whisper, quiet enough only they can hear it.

Your mother approaches you, thankfully not having heard your words of thanks. She circles around you, looking at the hairdo before she tuts, “It’ll do.”

The journey to the town square is only a few minutes. Though, as you walk beside your mother in deafening silence, it feels like an eternity. Everyone knows who the two of you are, the entirety of the Capitol fond of your family lineage. Their eyes are wide as they watch you and your mother pass through the streets. See, due to your partnership with mister Alden and your large quantity of Avoxes, neither of you ever leave the house unless it’s mandatory, which only adds to the peoples’ astonishment. Not to mention your unnecessarily extravagant clothing. Most people are only wearing plain gowns or linen shirts whereas you two look like you’re about to meet a monarch. It’s humiliating.

Your mother loves the attention, basking in it. You, on the other hand, feel as though it’s rather embarrassing.

You reach the square and part ways with her, wordlessly joining your respective age groups.

Your shoulders are set and your chin is raised as you know everyone is staring. Their gazes feel like spiders crawling all over your body. You fucking hate it, the prestige. Especially since you didn’t do anything to deserve it. You were just born into the family. To you, nothing makes you any different from the people living in the hovels of your District. Even in other Districts. The only thing that separates you from a starving child in Twelve is chance.

Mayor Marriott steps up to the podium and she tells the story of your country’s origin. You already know it by heart, having been taught by your father to memorize it at a young age. Her hair is platinum blonde, younger than most District mayors, though she’s just as strict. Her father was the mayor before her, causing her to take over the career. You oftentimes wonder if she hates lineage inheritance just as much as you do. You doubt it.

Following her speech comes the District escort. You know her by name, you know everyone in the Capitol by name. That’s Alice Reymond. Her hair is bigger than her head, her eyes adorned by lashes longer than her fingers. Capitolites are fucking weird, looking more like disfigured abstract pieces than human beings.

“Happy Hunger Games!” Exclaims Alice Reymond. “And may the odds be ever in your favor!”

She goes on to tell a speech on how much of an honor it is to serve as this District’s escort. Though every escort says that, you’re sure she means it more so than any others. Escorts are paid based on how many victors their District is able to produce. And, what with your family’s abundance of them, you’re sure she’s swimming in more cash than even District One’s escort is. However, more importantly, the bragging rights must be immeasurable.

Behind the podium of which she stands, mayor Marriott watches with a piercing gaze. Her blue eyes are intimidatingly sharp as she overlooks the crown. Though, the man sitting in the mentor’s chair has a gaze even sharper than she. 

Ruben. Your brother.

He’s tasked with training and keeping the tributes alive each year. He’s rather good at it. And, even when he fails, nobody blames him. How could they when he’s so perfect? You tune out Alice Reymond’s speech, taking in the sight of your brother after having not seen him in years. The closest you’ve gotten to talking to him is watching interviews on the television. 

His features are almost a perfect copy of yours — the same nose shape, same hair and eye color, same lips. But he’s got a certain look to him that erases any sort of similarities you two happen to share. A certain Capitolistic look. His eyes are highlighted with golden eyeliner, all the wrinkles in his face surgically removed. The brother you’d cherished all those years ago no longer exists. In his place sits the shell of a man. A Capitolite and thereby not your brother.

“Here we go!” Alice Reymond grins, yanking your thoughts back to the Reaping. She then begins digging her inhumanly long fingers through the bowl of names. She pulls out a slip of paper and smiles widely before calling it out. “Remy Wilson!”

The crowd murmurs lowly, looking around for the owner of the name. A pause. Nobody steps forward. Then, two Peacekeepers suddenly storm into the crowd and rip a little boy from his parents. The boy, Remy, is frozen in place, unmoving. The Peacekeepers pull him up to the stage. He’s crying, as he stands on the elevated space, trembling under the gazes of the District. Of the country.

He can’t be older than twelve. His cheeks are rounded, his big brown eyes even rounder. His skin is pale with a rosy nose, his wavy hair is an ashy brown that forms a messy crown of innocence around his head. Ruben is watching the boy closely, likely examining whether or not he’ll survive the arena. The answer is obvious, though. This child won’t be making it out.

“And for our second tribute,” Continues Alice Reymond. She pulls another paper from the bowl, her eyes widening slightly as she reads it. A great, pearly smile splits across her face before her spider-like eyes land on you. Your heart sinks.

You already know what she’s going to say when she calls out your name.

[post] notes!! While dual POV will be in this story, this is the only time I'll be showing two perspectives of the same event. This chapter followed Ellie and the reader both experiencing the reaping. It was needed for the plot but grew repetitive at the end, I promise this is the only time that'll happen 🤞 Also, this was a shit ton of exposition & I apologize for that, but the backstory of both characters are very needed. You def needed to see Ellie's relationship w everyone around her as well as have explanatory bg with the reader's family and everything. Also x2, I hope the amount of dialogue in Ellie's pov made up for the lack thereof in the reader's pov. I hate reading huge paragraphs of straight monologue so I try to refrain from writing it, but sometimes it's unavoidable (bc reader literally has nobody to talk to) Anyway, hope you enjoyed!!

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[andhumanslovedstories]

chapter eleven of what feels like the most soap opera ass fic I've ever written and then just a bunch of thoughts about writing it, which contains vague spoilers for my plans:

The inception of the fic basically went like this:

haha lol i'd be fun if sqq got real mad at the state of education

what would need to happen in this fic that doesn't happen in canon to motivate him to do something about it

oh shit he didn't unlock OOC so he has to figure out how to be his coddling indulgent self (which he's in denial about) while also being shen jiu

But the thing that really made the story get so much bigger in scope was when I was reading a fic with yqy coming clean to sj, and sj being like, "GASP. I forgive you." And I was "I simply do not believe that this is how it would happen." And I would have moved on with my life, but then I thought, "but like how would it happen." And more importantly, how could this conversation happen within the canon timeline but still involve Shen Jiu, the person this information affects.

The OOC idea and the need for Shen Jiu to be present in this fight scene came together to be like "what if sqq got sj's memories so he could rules-lawyer his characterization more accurately, and ends up being furious on sj's behalf?"

(This, btw, is why I knew I had to get much fonder of YQY and get a much better understanding of his character. When a pillar of your fic idea is a character getting ripped into for his choices, it is sooooooo easy to for it to come off as the author yelling their personal opinions or for it to be completely flat character bashing. Neither are interesting to read or write! Hence the crash-course in YQY appreciation, so now he gets his own emotional arc too. Everyone gets a goddamn plotline.)

Meanwhile I was also thinking about the implications of downloading another person's life into your head. If you have their memories and their body, are you them? What makes you not them? I didn't know! I sort of just kept writing and posting with the assumption that I'd figure something out, which I've finally nailed down btw. That's a relief! Also kinda the fun of WIPs where you're building the railroad track as you're on the train. I end up fanficing my own fanfic. Once stuff is posted, that's the canon, and I look at it and think, "if this was a book I was reading, what is the way I would extrapolate what's there to make a new but coherent story?"

That's why my outline becomes pretty useless after a while. The big picture doesn't change too much--I know roughly where all the major characters are going to be emotionally by the end of the story--but I discover the path I'm going to take there. Which usually means adding stuff. Liu Qingge wasn't going to get a POV, and now every chapter I'm like "fuck am I building a throuple". Ming Fan will have waaaay more a story line than I originally conceived. Early on, I was like "eh I'm not going to go too far into the brothel stuff," and can you guess what is going to be coming up prominently in the next few chapters? God help me.

Actually, there's only one major part of the outline that I cut: Shang Qinghua. He was originally very prominent early on, but turns out having the literal Word of God in a story about slowly discovering backstory is difficult to reconcile. So sadly, he doesn't get a real role. If you're curious, the original plan for him was that SQQ would realize he's a transmigrator much earlier in the canon, but the System would be like [shen jiu would not tell shang qinghua he is a transmigrator. ooc] which would lead to this series of SQQ trying to figure out how he can communicate around this. SQQ at a peak meeting being like, "do you think these DEMONS are PROUD of having made their WAY to us IMMORTALS?" while SQH is like, "AM I HAVING A STROKE?"

What's some other stuff about this fic? I've got a lot of thoughts bottled up, in part because I'm kinda snobby tbh in how I post. I'm like "*pushes glasses up my nose* the author's takes on the story should not be unavoidably present when reading the text" so I don't like to use ao3's author's notes. It's ridiculous and not a standard I hold anyone else too, but whenever I find myself wanting to address something in the notes, I know I must feel insecure about that part of the story. So either fix it or don't draw attention to it. But this is fine, you have to come here for this. This is DVD commentary.

My favorite part of writing this fic has been balancing Shen Jiu's character. As I'm fleshing out his sad backstory, I've been wary of essentially woobifying him. Reducing him to just someone who greatly suffered is so boring and flat. He NEEDS to suck. Or more accurately, he needs to be a very imperfect victim. Exasperating at his mildest, despicable at his worst. (Truthfully, I do think I can and should make him worse. Luckily this story is nothing but flashbacks to him at his worst so there's plenty of opportunities.)

This whole mental breakdown section has been an interesting balancing act because it's explicitly about how bad Shen Jiu's life was and now how bad Shen Qingqiu's is. It's the point at which I had to decide how torturous his time at the Qiu manor had been (me and Shen Qingqiu really discovered that together). On a scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the absolute worst saddest brutalist ideas I had for this era in his life, I'd say I settled on about a 7. Most of it is backstage in my head, but once I locked that down, I could start figuring out how much was bleeding through.

Anyway, it's been fun writing the angstfest of the last few chapters, but oh my god am I ready for a tone shift. There's usually jokes in my works, even the saddest bits, but jokes relieve tension which is the opposite of what I was going for. I didn't want any humor in the YQY conversation, then you have to keep not joking for a while to get the point across. There's still a lot of planned emotional shit, but I'm happy to not be wallowing for a while.

AND GOD AS MY WITNESS THIS STORY WILL NOT BE LONGER THAN 20 CHAPTERS. MAYBE IT'LL EVEN BE LESS!! IT IS DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO BE A WHOLE CANON REWRITE. PROBABLY!! IF TIANLANG JUN HAS ANY SIGNIFICANT SCREEN TIME, PLEASE KNOW THAT I HAVE FAILED.

[takumiraine]

Once upon a time chapter 10

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Danny slept more soundly in these two little cat naps with Sam and Tucker (and Jason) present than he had in the last couple of years. Really since the ghost shit started. His first awareness was Tucker saying “no dude, seriously, watch.” Right before Danny remembered to breathe.

“Freaky…” he heard Jason mutter.

Danny opened his eyes. “Technically dead, remember?” He yawned, stretching in a way that he had been told most people couldn’t move in.

“It’s still kinda weird man,” Tucker said without a hint of remorse, even as Danny swatted him. “But your food’s done.” That drew Danny’s full attention. He sat up, taking the plate that had been offered to him. Carefully, Danny blew on the rolls, before popping one into his mouth.

“P’f’ct” he mumbled through his bite.

Sam shook her head. “So is your big bat friend aware that we’re coming too, as Danny’s backup?”

“Yeah. I told him. He’s not thrilled but what can he really do. He feels guilty that he missed a chance to help adoption bait.”

“So he doesn’t think I’m going to go villain on you?” Jason shrugged.

“You had plenty of time and motivation to do so to me.”

Tucker’s PDA beeped. He looked down at it. Looked up at Jason. Looked back at it. Showed the results to Sam and Danny. “Does that mean…?” Danny looked back up at Jason.

“Dude. Is your fucking dad Batman?” Danny asked.

“How….?” Jason didn’t have a good answer to that because if he said no, then in like an hour max, Danny would learn of another lie, but if he said yes, it felt like some sort of weird betrayal against B. “What makes you think that?”

“Because Tucker needed to isolate the crack you guys made into the GIW before he could make sure they haven’t done anything about it and… I’m pretty sure the main location came from right where your house is. So it’s either your dad or your butler.”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please be surprised when he tells you. And please let me be the one to tell the Replacement that some random guy followed his hacking trail on a goddamn PDA, and was able to deduce Batman’s identity from it. He’s gonna froth at the mouth and I need to be the one to cause that.”

“Who’s the Replacement?” Sam asked.

“The kid that became Robin after me. He and Oracle led the break in to that site.” Danny crunched another couple pizza rolls, while Tucker looked triumphant.

“Watch, they’re like a big creepy family of crime fighting rich people.” Danny nudged his friends between bites. Jason forced himself to laugh along.

“You might never know. B said he was the only one he was going to out tonight.” Jason hedged, trying to play up the mysterious vibe.

The trio shared a look as Danny finished off the rest of his pizza rolls. “Right. Anyways. You’re not going to like blindfold us right? We can just go in like normal people? Or is he going to come to us?”

“He’ll send a car when we’re ready. No blindfolds.”

“Good because I’m not doing kinky stuff with someone I haven’t even kissed yet.” Danny said through another yawn, stretching out obliviously.

Jason stared, open mouthed.

“What…?” Danny asked when he opened one eye mid stretch. He ran back what he just said, face turning scarlet. “I mean… fuck. You know what I mean.” He groused, purposefully not looking at the other three. “You try not really sleeping for five years and see where it gets you.”

Tucker and Sam burst into a fit of laughter. “Called it.” Sam announced, fist bumping Tucker and deftly dodging the swat.

“I can’t believe I’m still friends with you two assholes.” Danny grumbled, still red. “Let’s get this execution over with…”

Bruce sent Alfred in the town car to pick them up. “Master Jason, it is good to see you are making friends.” Alfred’s voice was genuinely caring beneath the dry delivery.

“Yeah yeah. A, these are Danny, Tucker and Sam. Three new people for you to feed.”

“Most excellent, I am always being told that I cook entirely too much.” Feeding a family of vigilantes that never seem to sit still requires a lot of food after all. He opened the back door gesturing for them to enter. “Sirs. Ma’am. Master Jason, I assume you will be taking ‘shotgun’?”

Danny, Tucker and Sam slid into the car, squishing Danny in the middle seat. Jason went around and opened his own door as Alfred closed the back. “Yeah. I’m not feeling like the trunk tonight.”

The ride to the manor was tense, even though Alfred did his best to settle it out by talking about different foods in the fridge that needed to be eaten if ‘you kids’ -Jason included- would be amenable.

For Danny, it was torture on two fronts. First, he had no idea what he was walking into. The second was that even after a pile of pizza rolls, Danny still felt like he had a black hole instead of a stomach. Was that due to the fact his family never seemed to have an adequate volume of non contaminated food, he was a man under 25, a halfa or just hadn’t eaten much recently? Not even he knew the answer to that. He was just pretty used to ignoring the feeling.

When the car drove through the manor’s gates, nobody seemed impressed. Which would have been concerning if Jason hadn’t remembered seeing the Mansons at galas before. Danny seemed like he was trying to melt through the seats, regretting his choice to come there.

“I swear to fuck if it’s Vlad here…” he muttered to the two other teens, so quietly Jason almost didn’t hear it.

“You’d feel it wouldn’t you?” Tucker asked just as quietly.

“Maybe? If it’s not his domain it might take longer…”

“Well do you feel anything now?” From Sam. Jason watched Alfred’s eyes in the mirror. He was listening too.

“No…. Not him. This is the domain of something, but I don’t know who or what.” Danny tried to look out the window, squinting through the glass to look for Jason didn’t know what.

Eventually he shrugged and sat back as the car pulled down the winding drive. It was only as Alfred opened the door to the backseat that something odd happened. Danny’s breath came out in a single puff of winter condensation, and all three of them tensed. Bruce was standing there, watching them, and all three got out, lining up against the back of the car. Danny seemed to be looking at something, distracted while B was giving them the typical welcome speech, and ushering them inside out of the cool night air. Though the other two didn’t seem to be able to see what Danny did, they gave whatever he was looking at a wide berth.

“D?” Tucker asked, hand on Danny’s arm. He just shook his head.

“Not violent.” He murmured back. “Been here a long time…”

That brought up more questions than Jason thought he’d be able to ask in one night. If Bruce heard the exchange he wisely chose to comment on it.

They all followed Bruce into the main sitting room, and the trio sat on the couch while Bruce took one armchair and Jason shoved another to be more lined up with the couch before flopping into it in a way that was sure to make B’s teeth grit.

“Has Jason told you why I’ve brought you here, chum?” Bruce said to Danny once Alfred had brought them all drinks and an assortment of snacks. Danny immediately set in on the food, eating in a way that was just controlled enough to seem bored.

Danny was about to answer when Sam elbowed him in the side. He finished chewing and swallowed. “He said you’d explain everything when we got here. I assumed it was because you thought we were dating and wanted to give me the shovel talk.” A pause. “We aren’t.” Another pause. “Dating that is. These are good snacks.” Danny’s eyes kept darting to something over Bruce’s shoulder.

Jason assumed it was to the portrait of the late Waynes. Those eyes had an uncanny habit of seeming to hone in on you wherever you went. Still, before Bruce could process, Jason put on his best terrible southern accent. “Aw, honey, no need to hide from my father. No doubt you’ll be able to win my dowry in no time.”

“Jason.” Bruce sounded constipated. Good. Serves him right for tormenting Danny. “No, I brought you here because I have something very important to reveal to you.” Bruce waited an appropriately dramatic amount of time, causing Jason to roll his eyes. “I am Batman.” There was a moment before the trio let out the fakest gasp he’d ever heard. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What? No way!” God their acting was terrible. Danny was even doing that little nervous laugh thing he did when the topic of families came up in class.

“You knew.” It was less a question and more of a statement, then Bruce turned slowly to focus the full weight of his gaze on Jason. “They knew.”

Jason waved a hand. “Don’t look at me. They figured it out the moment I said we hacked into the GIW. Turns out having one of the hacks originate close to the house meant they could figure it out since they had some basic common sense deduction skills.”

“I….” Bruce sighed heavily and grabbed his mug, looking for the world like he was regretting every choice he’d ever made leading up to that point.

Danny snorted a laugh but covered it with a really badly acted cough. Sam elbowed him and he made a sort of helpless gesture and gestured off to the side of the room. Interesting.

“Care to share with the rest of the class Danny?” Jason asked, watching him as well as he could without actually sitting up.

“Uh… well… it has to do with uh… my powers. The lady over there…” he gestured again to the side of the room, “just told uh…. Mr. Bat…? Mr. Man…? That it’s what children do, and she’s had to watch her “Little Roo” do that to her for years now.”

At the name, Bruce sat up stock straight, looking around the room. “What kind of trick is this?” He growled, defensive. “How did you know that name?” Danny immediately looked nervous, grabbing onto his friends.

“The woman told me. The one in the painting.” Bruce and Jason both turned to look up at the portrait of the Waynes and that was all it took for Danny and his friends to completely disappear.

“Danny, come back. He’s not going to hurt you.” Jason sat up now, trying to locate Danny in the room. He knew the younger man and his friends were still there, he could feel Danny close but it was clear he was trying to reassess the situation.

When Danny didn’t immediately appear again, Jason looked around for something he could throw at Bruce. There wasn’t anything of an appropriate annoyance level immediately handy so he grabbed the pillow off the couch Danny and his friends had vacated and flung it at Bruce, taking no small amount of pride in the resounding thud it made as the fabric connected with his father’s head.

Bruce looked over at him then. “Can I help you?”

“Me? Nah. But you could try to calm Danny down before he gets sick of our shit and ghosts us permanently. He’s hiding here somewhere.” Had he just made a pun??? He needed to spend less time with Tim.

It was only then that Bruce seemed to shake off his shock at what Danny had said to realize that he and his friends were unable to be seen. “Danny? Chum? Jay is right. I will not harm you. I was just…. Shocked by the fact that my mother’s ghost is still here…. And making comments.” There was another moment of silence before Danny spoke again.

“Oh… that being your mom explains a lot. Your dad is here too, but he hasn’t said much.” Slowly, Danny became visible again, floating in the corner with his friends, who seemed far too used to being grabbed and floated off with for their own good. He lowered them to the floor first, and fidgeted with his clothes until Jason reached out and gestured to the remaining food.

“Eat or Alfred will be disappointed.” Carefully, Danny let his feet touch the floor again, and became fully solid and visible. Only once Danny was okay did Tucker and Sam go and sit back down, grabbing a snack for themselves.

“Sorry…” Danny murmured to all of them, retaking his position between his friends.

“Not at all lad. I should be the one apologizing to you. Tonight is the night of unexpected it seems.” Jason noted, that while Bruce should be apologizing, he in fact had not said the words. “I wanted to let you know, personally, that you will be safe from those government stooges while the League still stands. You should not have to be afraid to exist and had we received your messages when they were sent, we would have helped then.“

Danny narrowed his eyes, pausing mid bite. “You’d help some kid you don’t know, just like that?”

Jason snorted then, cutting off Bruce’s response. “Danny, B found like five kids, all with black hair, blue eyes and a tragic backstory. You fit right in.”

Danny looked at Jason for a moment, considering, then at the two ghosts that had stayed in the room. Finally, he nodded. “Alright. I’ll trust you. For now.”

“Excellent. Shall I have Alfred make up a couple of guest rooms?” Bruce looked entirely too happy at the idea of having guests.

“No, I’ve got my own place. But thanks…” Danny said, trying very hard not to look worried at the invitation.

Jason texted something to Alfred, then stood when the butler entered the room with a large ziploc bag. Jason stood and took it, then dumped the rest of the snacks into the bag before pressing it into Danny’s hands.

“C’mon. I’ll bring you home. You look exhausted still.” Jason carefully, but casually positioned himself between Bruce and Danny. Not that Jason didn’t trust Bruce, but Danny had been through a lot and Jason wanted to offer any protection or comfort he could. Danny nodded, standing with his friends. Sam looped one of her arms through his.

“Thank you for the food and assurances of Danny’s safety.” Tucker said diplomatically as Sam pulled Danny after Jason.