#but only because I changed my mind twice before settling on this

[pathologicalreid]

next of kin | S.R.

disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends? word count: 3.33k a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.

“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.

You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”

The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.

Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.

Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.

Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.

Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”

Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.

Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.

You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”

He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.

The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.

The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.

It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.

By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.

“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.

None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.

Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.

All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.

Maya. Maya. Maya.

Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.

You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.

Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.

Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.

The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.

Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.

You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.

They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.

By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”

In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.

Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.

“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.

Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.

That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”

You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.

“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.

Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.

Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”

“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”

Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”

Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.

Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”

In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.

You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.

At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”

Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.

“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.

The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.  

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.

Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.

“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.

Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”

The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.

“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.

He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”

Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.

He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.

Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”

Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.

This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.

Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.

You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”

“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.

Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”

He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.

You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”

Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”

It was the smell.

The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.

Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.

“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”

No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.

You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”

Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.

Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”

Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”

Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”

Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”

You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.

Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.

Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”

She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.

You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”

“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.

Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.

You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.

“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.

She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.

Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.

“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.

There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.

The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.

“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.

You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.

He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”

You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”

“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”

You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.

The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…

“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.

Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.

But Spencer was there to catch you.

part two

[mapis-putellas]

Braids

Pairing: Nat x you

Words: 1100

Warnings: none

Summary: You and Natasha had only been together for a few weeks when you ask to braid her hair.

Notes: Yikes. It’s been a while. I’m so sorry. I hope this cute fic makes up for it.

The atmosphere was almost peaceful as both you and Natasha lounged on separate sides of the couch. You were idly watching her from the corner of her eye as she focuses on the laptop screen in front of her, hands distractedly flickering through the pages of the book you were planning on starting.

She was clad in one of your hoodies along with a pair of grey shorts; her hair down and a little mused from the way she would continuously run her hand through it. You often found yourself wondering if it was as soft as it looked. How soft it would feel in between your fingers.

You see, you and Natasha had only been together a little over four weeks, so the tentative relationship you did have was still very new. You'd held hands once or twice. Kissed a few times more. Chaste pecks that never trailed off into anything more. But that was it. No hugs had been given, and you'd yet to know how it felt to hold her body against your own.

Though you longed to hold her in your arms, you found that you didn't quite mind waiting. Good things come to those who wait after all. Well, that and the fact you knew months before you'd started dating that she was a very guarded person, and that wasn't going to change just because the label on what you were was different.

"I can feel you watching me, you know." You hear her speak, and your eyes flicker away from her hair to her face. Her eyes, you notice, remain on her computer screen, but the tiny smile present on her lips does not go amiss.

You sigh contently as you turn in your seat to face her, your back now pressed against the arm of the couch whilst your legs sprawl out in front of you. "Just admiring." You admit, your voice a mere murmur.

Natasha's fingers still on the keyboard of her laptop as her eyes finally meet your own. The emotion in them was undecipherable, just like always, but they do soften at the sight of you sitting before her. You couldn't help but melt slightly at the sight as you reach over to the coffee table and set down the book you never did get the chance to open.

Eyes once again meeting her own, you finally bring yourself to ask the question that had been on the forefront of your mind since you'd sat down.

"Can I braid your hair?"

You brace yourself for the rejection, but much to your dismay, it doesn't come. At least, not straight away. Natasha simply stares at you, mouth slightly agape as though she was attempting find a plausible answer to your question.

She clears her throat, eyes flickering away from you for just a moment before they return.

"Braid my hair?" She seems to finally find her voice, the sound of it alone making your heart race.

You nod, swallowing the sudden tightness in your own throat. Natasha stares at you for a little moment longer before she nods. It was just once, almost unnoticeable, but it was all the confirmation you needed. With more confidence than you felt, you let one of your legs fall to the floor and pat the now open space in between them.

Natasha hesitates for only a second before she was setting down her laptop and scooting herself towards you. As she settles, you place your hands on either side of her waist in a silent question. It was only when she nods again do you tug her backwards just slightly, the insides of your thighs now settled snuggly on either side of her hips.

"Good?" You question in a mere murmur, and she vocalises her agreement with a soft hum as your hands begin combing through her hair. It wasn't necessarily tangled, but you didn't want to accidentally snag any loose strands like you tended to do with your own hair. Soon, you'd parted the top her hair into three thin strands in preparation to start the intended dutch braid.

A comfortable silence seems to settle upon you, and you can't help but smile softly when you feel Natasha's hands rest almost tentatively on each of your thighs. You risk a gentle kiss against the back of her head, immediately rewarded by the feeling of her body relaxing completely against you.

"Nearly done." You reluctantly break the silence as your fingers begin to quickly finish the braid, and Natasha hums in acknowledgment as you grab the hair tie off of your wrist and secure it with ease. As you bring your now unoccupied hands back down to your lap, you watch as one of Natasha's own rises to feel the top of her head. It lingers for just a second before a satisfied hum escapes her lips.

"Dutch?" She questions knowingly, and you smirk slightly as you nod your head and place another kiss to the back of her head.

"Good guess." You muse, and Natasha looks back at you with a smirk of her own.

"It wasn't a guess." She tells you simply as her head settles against your shoulder.

"You're just that good huh?" You tease, craning your head slightly to you were more or less face to face with her.

"Damn right." Natasha smirks as she leans forward to affectionately graze the tip of her nose against your cheek, the appendage scrunching up cutely when you press a gentle kiss to it, and you roll your eyes fondly as your arms settle around her waist.

Tight enough for her to feel secure, but loose enough that should she choose leave your arms, she could do so without issue.

Your heart races when Natasha settles her hands atop of your own, choosing wisely to ignore the way they tremble slightly with what you could only assume was nerves. Instead, you simply press your lips against her forehead hoping to alleviate whatever fear may be there.

"Nobody likes a smart ass." You murmur as you pull away.

"No?" Natasha grins slyly as she turns herself in your arms so she was more or less cradled. You accept the change of position with ease, keeping one of your arms beneath her whilst the other loops around her stomach to meet the other that had come to rest on her hip. "You like me."

You sigh heavily in fake exasperation, "Unfortunatel-Hey! What was that for?!"

**

I hope you enjoyed 😊

[eu-nicola]

not yours part 3

summary: Rafe Cameron is the perfect boyfriend… but not yours, but Sofia’s. However, fate plays against you when you become the only person capable of understanding him in his darkest moments. What begins as a dangerous friendship soon becomes an attraction impossible to deny.

warnings: cheating maybe (yes)

word counter: 8960

author’s note: english is not my first language, penultimate part

tags: @xcinnamonmalfoyx @immyowndefender @tmlinsito

The days began to change subtly, as if something in the air had become different. Rafe was moving away from Sofia, but not in an obvious way. At first, they were small details that went unnoticed: messages that arrived late, plans that were cancelled with a vague excuse, and an increasingly frequent absent look.

Sofia, always sure of her relationship, tried to justify it. Maybe he was busy, maybe he needed time for himself. But with each passing day, the uneasiness grew in her, until she could no longer ignore it. There was something that didn't fit, a distance that wasn't there before.

One afternoon, while they were at your house, you noticed how his gestures had changed. His eyes no longer shone with the same confidence as before, and his hands nervously played with the cup of coffee. Although she tried to appear calm, the weight of doubt was wearing her down.

In silence, you listened to his words. She told you what had been going on: the distance, the excuses, the feeling that Rafe was somewhere else even when they were together.

Guilt settled in your chest. You knew that you had contributed, however silently, to that gap that now existed between them. Ever since that night when you almost crossed a line with Rafe, everything had changed. You had done everything you could to distance yourself, avoiding encounters, making excuses not to be around them. But the truth kept chasing you, and it seemed to be catching up with Rafe too.

Sofia tried to understand it, justify it, find a reason that would give her peace. But there was none. Rafe was distant because his mind was stuck somewhere else… or someone else.

“He’s always been so attentive to me,” she began, searching your eyes as if she could find an answer in them. “But now… now I barely feel him around.”

He asked you for advice, but you drew a blank. What could you say to him? The words seemed to get stuck in your throat, unable to come out.

You tried to comfort her. You told her that maybe it was a phase, that all couples go through difficult times. You assured her that Rafe loved her, even though your own words sounded hollow to you. Sofia wanted to believe it, and you wanted her to, because facing the truth would be too complicated.

You hugged her, trying to convey a security you didn’t feel. You knew she trusted you, that she always had. But this time, you felt like you were betraying that trust, caught between loyalty to your friend and the emotions that tied you to Rafe.

When Sofia left that afternoon, you were left alone, with too many thoughts running through your mind. Guilt invaded you once again.

Later that same night, your phone vibrated. It was a text from Rafe.

“Can we talk?”

You stared at the screen, hesitating. You knew the right thing to do would be to ignore it, to keep the distance you had tried to establish. But something inside you, that attraction you had been denying, made you hesitate.

"I don't think that's a good idea," you finally wrote, trying to maintain the firmness that was already beginning to fade.

The answer came almost immediately. "Please."

Your phone screen remained lit with Rafe’s last message. “Please,” he had typed. Just two words that echoed in your mind, like an echo that refused to go away. You tried to ignore it, to remember all the reasons why you shouldn’t get involved, but something in you gave in. Something always gave in when it came to him.

Finally, you gave in. You texted him a brief “Okay,” and before you could think twice, he replied with a clear address. “Come to my house. Sofia won’t be in tonight.”

Guilt crawled under your skin as you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your keys. You knew you shouldn’t go, but your feet seemed to have a mind of their own. You walked through the door of your house, knowing that at the end of this night, nothing would get better.

When you arrived at the mansion, the air was thick, heavy with unspoken words and repressed feelings. Rafe was waiting for you at the entrance, his intense gaze fixed on you from the moment you got out of the car. You didn't say anything at first, just walked in with a firm step, as if the decision to go there didn't weigh on you as much as it actually did.

The door closed behind you with a dry sound, isolating you from the outside world, leaving you alone with him and with everything you had tried to avoid. Rafe led you to the living room, but the silence you shared was too tense to be comfortable.

"Why did you ask me to come?" you finally said, breaking the silence, your voice a little rougher than you had planned. You didn't want to smooth things over, because this time he had to hear the truth.

"Because I wanted to see you," he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He came closer, crossing the distance between you as if there was no moral or emotional barrier separating you.

You took a step back. "You can't keep doing this, Rafe." It’s not right. Sofia is worried, and you just walk away from her without any explanation. It’s wrong what you’re doing.

He frowned, but he didn’t seem surprised. He was used to people telling him he was wrong, but he rarely cared.

“It’s not that simple,” he replied calmly, almost as if he didn’t want to argue.

“Yes, she is,” you insisted, crossing your arms in front of you like a protective barrier. “If you don’t want to be with her, tell her. Don’t leave her hanging, wondering what she did wrong.” Don't be a coward."

Your words were harsh, but honest. You couldn't stand to see Sofia suffer because of someone who didn't have the decency to be honest with her.

Rafe was silent for a moment, his eyes locked on yours. That look... that damn look that always seemed to pierce through you, read every corner of your thoughts.

"You think it's that easy?" he finally said, his voice low but laden with something deeper, something that seemed about to explode. "You think I don't know what I'm doing? But every time I'm with her, I only think about you."

Your breathing stopped for a second. You didn't expect him to say it, at least not so directly. You knew there was something between you, a tension you couldn't deny, but hearing it out loud made it all too real.

"That's not an excuse," you replied, though your voice trembled slightly. "Sofia doesn't deserve this, Rafe. She trusts you. She trusts me. We can't do this to him."

He came closer again, more determined this time, and you didn't pull away. His eyes searched yours, his face just a few inches from yours. You could feel his breathing, the heat radiating from his body, and your heart began to pound.

"I don't care," he murmured, with an intensity that completely disarmed you. "I don't care what I should do. All I want now is to be with you."

His confession fell upon you like a storm, dark and electrifying. You knew that at that moment you should walk away, get out of that house and leave it all behind. But your feet remained motionless, as if a part of you was also trapped in that forbidden desire.

"This... can't happen," you whispered, trying to hold on to the last shred of reason you had left.

Rafe raised a hand, gently brushing your cheek, and the contact made you close your eyes for a second. "But it's already happening," he said with a certainty that made you He shuddered.

You opened your eyes and took a step back, breaking contact. “No. I have to go.”

Rafe didn’t try to stop you this time, but the intensity of his gaze continued to haunt you as you walked away. Your steps felt heavy, as if leaving him behind required titanic strength. When you reached the door, you paused for a moment, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. You knew the right thing to do was to walk away, but the desire you had tried to bury was awakening, and you couldn’t deny that something inside you was changing.

That night, when you finally returned home, you sat on your bed, your heart still pounding. You had distanced yourself from Rafe, but you knew that distance wouldn’t be enough to stop what was growing between you. And, for the first time, you realized that maybe you couldn’t control what you felt anymore.

The days that followed became a silent storm inside you. Every moment was a constant struggle between guilt, desire, and responsibility. You had managed to physically distance yourself from him that night, but the emotional burden remained, growing with every thought, with every furtive glance you remembered, with every heartbeat that quickened as you received his messages.

The hardest thing was being close to Sofia. You felt trapped in a labyrinth of contradictory emotions, having to be her support while your own stability was shaky. She trusted you, depended on you, and you did everything you could to be by her side. But every word of comfort you offered to her tore you apart a little more inside. How could you be a support for her when you yourself were on the verge of collapse?

You spent hours with Sofia, listening to her worries, her fears. Rafe had become distant, and she didn't understand why. He told you how things had changed between them, how every day he seemed further away, colder. And you knew it. You knew exactly why he was pulling away, and that knowledge weighed on you like a stone in your chest.

There were times when you wanted to tell her the truth, to confess what was going on, but the words died in your throat. You couldn't. You couldn't destroy her like that. So you stayed silent, nodded, and held her when she broke down in front of you, as if that was enough to keep her whole.

Until one afternoon, while you were at her house, Sofia surprised you with an idea you weren't expecting.

"I've been thinking about doing something special for Rafe," she began, with a smile that seemed forced but full of hope. "Something to help us reconnect. A romantic getaway, just the two of us. Something spontaneous, different."

Just hearing her talk about him that way made your stomach turn.

“Do you think that will work?” you asked, trying to sound neutral, even though you knew your voice betrayed some disbelief.

Sofia nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I think we need to get out of here, away from everything.” Maybe a change of scenery will help us remember why we're together in the first place."

You nodded slowly, not knowing what to say. The thought of the two of them, together, trying to save their relationship, should have relieved you, should have given you hope that everything would go back to normal. But it didn't. Instead, you felt a knot form in your stomach.

"I want you to come with us," he said suddenly, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

The surprise took your breath away. "What?"

Sofia looked at you with an almost pleading expression. "Yes, I want you to come. I know you've been distant lately, and I don't know why, but I think being in a different place will do you good. We could relax, have fun like before.

You stayed silent for a few seconds, processing his words. Going with them… on a romantic getaway. Being a third presence on a trip that should be just for the two of them. It all seemed absurd, out of place.

"I don't think it's a good idea." "I don't think so," you finally answered, trying to come up with a valid excuse. "It's a trip for you two, I have nothing to do there."

Sofia shook her head quickly. "It's not absurd. You're my best friend, and Rafe appreciates you too. Besides, it could be fun. I don't want you to be alone, and I know you're not at your best either." This could help us both.”

Her words left you speechless. Maybe for her, your presence would be a safety net of sorts, someone to lean on if things didn’t go her way.

And you… you were trapped. You couldn’t refuse without raising suspicion, without her wondering what was really going on.

“Okay,” you finally said, even though every fiber of your being screamed for you not to. “I’ll go.”

Sofia smiled, relieved, and you forced a smile in response. As Sofia began to talk excitedly about plans, you could only think about what was coming next.

From the moment you accepted Sofia’s invitation, you knew exactly what was going to happen. You had tried to ignore it, to pretend that maybe things would be different, that you could keep the emotional distance you had built with so much effort. But reality haunted you, and with each passing day, that certainty became harder to ignore.

Days later, as you absentmindedly checked your phone, Rafe's message appeared like a shadow you couldn't avoid:

"I can't wait to see you on the trip."

Your heart stopped for a second. There was no formality, no context, just that message, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be eager to see you.

You didn't respond. It wasn't worth it. You would leave that message on read, buried among unimportant notifications, as if ignoring it could take away its weight.

And yet, you couldn't get it out of your head. Over the next few days, as you helped Sofia with the preparations for the trip, as you pretended to be excited about the getaway, that message was still there, latent, like a constant reminder of what awaited you.

Finally, the day of departure arrived. The chosen destination was a private island, a paradise hidden in the crystal-clear waters of somewhere not so far away. It was the kind of place only the rich and privileged could afford, with white sand beaches stretching as far as the eye could see, luxurious villas surrounded by lush vegetation, and a tranquility that seemed alien to the real world.

The plan sounded perfect. For Sofia, it was the ideal opportunity to reconnect with Rafe, to get away from everything that had been distancing them. For you, it was a gilded cage, a scenario where everything could go wrong.

You were nervous. You couldn't deny that the idea of ​​being so close to Rafe, sharing the same space, made you uneasy. Every time you thought about him, about his gaze, about the way he seemed to seek you out even when he shouldn't, a wave of anxiety ran through your body.

But you promised yourself that you wouldn't let it bother you. You wouldn't give it power over you. You wouldn't allow this trip to become anything more than what it was meant to be: a getaway with your friend, nothing more.

The day started early. Rafe picked you up with Sofia in his car, both ready to leave. Sofia was beaming, excited about the adventure that awaited them. You, on the other hand, kept a measured smile, trying not to let your thoughts betray you.

“Ready for a few days of paradise?” Sofia asked, with a smile that reflected all her excitement.

“More than ready,” you answered, with an enthusiasm that you didn’t quite feel. Your eyes avoided Rafe’s, who remained silent, driving with a calm expression.

The trip to the private port was short, but every second in that car made you feel as if the air became denser, heavier. Rafe didn’t say much, but his presence was impossible to ignore.

When they arrived at the port, a private yacht was waiting for them, ready to take them to the island. The luxury was overwhelming: an elegant vessel, with polished wood interiors, spacious rooms, and staff ready to attend to their every wish.

The trip on the yacht was as beautiful as it was uncomfortable. Sofia settled down on the deck, enjoying the sun and the sea breeze. You joined her, trying to relax, but you constantly felt Rafe’s gaze on you, as if he was waiting for something, as if the silence between you was a conversation in itself. 

When you finally arrived at the island, the place was even more stunning than you had imagined. The private villa was surrounded by palm trees, with an infinity pool that seemed to merge with the sea. From the balcony, the view was simply perfect: a clear horizon, the sky painted blue, and the sound of the waves like a constant melody. 

Sofia was delighted. “Look at this! It’s even better than I imagined.”

You nodded, pretending to be just as excited, while inside you tried to prepare yourself for what was to come. You knew you would be together, that you would share moments where the line between right and wrong would blur even further. And yet, you were there.

The afternoon passed in apparent calm. You swam in the pool, walked along the beach, tried to distract yourself with anything. But every time Rafe came closer, every time his presence became unavoidable, an electric current seemed to run through the air.

It wasn't the place, nor the time. It was him. It was what he provoked in you, that attraction that you had tried to deny but that grew stronger and stronger.

As night began to fall, you promised yourself that you would keep your distance. You wouldn't let anything happen. You wouldn't let it happen to yourself.

When night came, dinner was quiet, the table was set on the terrace, overlooking the beach and the moonlit ocean. The air was warm, and the sea breeze blew gently, filling the air with the soothing sound of waves breaking on the shore.

Sofia talked animatedly about the day, grateful for the trip she had planned. His voice had a mix of excitement and hope, as if this place could fix everything he felt was falling apart. Rafe, on the other hand, was more reserved, listening in silence, his gaze occasionally lost in the horizon or sometimes fixed on you for a few seconds that seemed eternal. 

You finished the last sip of your glass of wine when you decided it was time to leave them alone. Sofia had planned this trip to be with him, to reconnect, and you didn't want to be another obstacle. 

"I'm going to take a walk on the beach," you said in a casual tone, leaving the napkin on the table and standing up. You smiled slightly at Sofia. "I'll leave you two alone for a while." 

She looked at you with a mix of gratitude and relief. "Thank you." 

Rafe just nodded, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before returning to his plate. 

You didn't wait for an answer. You walked away from the table, crossing the terrace and descending the wooden path that led directly to the beach. The night air was cool and pleasant, and as you approached the sand, you felt each step take you a little further from the weight you carried.

The beach was completely empty, an endless stretch of white sand that sparkled under the moonlight. The sky was clear, and the stars seemed to flicker with an intensity you had rarely seen.

You walked slowly, letting your feet sink into the soft sand, enjoying the feeling of freedom that only this place could give you. The sound of the waves, the salty scent of the sea, the pleasant cold on your skin... everything seemed to conspire to offer you a moment of peace.

You stopped at a point where the shore met the tide, letting the water lap at your bare feet. You looked up at the sky, noticing the moon illuminating everything with its silver light. There was something comforting about its presence, something that made you feel less alone, less trapped in your own thoughts.

You had lost track of time on the beach, wrapped in that calm that you had needed so much. The sound of the waves, the reflection of the moon on the water, the coolness of the night... everything seemed to have conspired to stop the world for a while. You felt good, at peace, something you had not experienced for a long time.

You didn't know how much time you had spent there, alone, with your bare feet sunk in the wet sand and your gaze lost on the horizon. The world seemed so far away, and for a moment you allowed yourself to forget everything: the doubts, the tensions, the mixed emotions.

It was then that you heard footsteps behind you. Light, careful, as if the person approaching did not want to break the tranquility of the night. You didn't have to turn around to know who it was. You felt it before you saw it.

“Where is Sofia?” you asked, not looking at him, keeping your eyes fixed on the ocean that stretched out before you.

“Sleeping,” Rafe answered in a low voice, almost in a whisper that mixed with the sound of the sea.

His answer made you realize how long you had been there. Longer than you had imagined.

“Maybe I should go to sleep too,” you said as you slowly turned to look at him.

Rafe was standing a few feet away from you, his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on you. There was something different in his eyes, something softer, less tense.

“Will you stay with me for a moment?” he asked, his tone calm but with a nuance that made you hesitate.

You thought about it for a few seconds. You knew that staying was risky, that the line you had tried so hard not to cross could easily blur. But there was also something in his voice, in his gaze, that made you give in.

“It’s okay,” you finally replied, turning back to the sea as he came over and sat down beside you on the sand.

Silence settled between you, but this time it wasn’t awkward. On the contrary, there was something comforting about that shared stillness, as if you could finally be together without the weight of everything around you. For the first time in a long time, the usual tension was gone.

You both stared out at the ocean, letting the sound of the waves fill the space between you. There was no need to speak, no need to explain. You were just there, in that moment, sharing a pause amidst the chaos.

Suddenly, without warning, Rafe reached out a hand and splashed some water towards you. It wasn’t much, just a few drops, but enough to make you turn your head and look at him in surprise.

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, but unable to help a small smile.

Rafe smiled too, a genuine smile, free of the shadows he often carried. For a moment, he seemed to have forgotten everything.

“I couldn’t resist,” he replied in an amused tone.

You decided not to be left behind. You quickly stood up and ran towards the water, wetting your hands before spraying a jet directly onto his shirt. Rafe stood up immediately, with an expression of mock indignation.

“Now you’re in trouble,” he said, advancing towards you while you retreated, laughing, with the water caressing your feet.

What followed was a game, an improvised battle on the shore, with both of you splashing each other, laughing as if you were children. The worries, the tensions, the doubts... everything was left behind in those minutes when there was only the two of you and the ocean.

Rafe seemed different, freer, more alive. And you... you felt light, as if you had finally found a respite in the middle of everything. Laughter filled the night, and for an instant, everything was fine.

Finally, you both stopped, soaked and panting slightly from laughter and exhaustion. Rafe looked at you, his smile still present, and for a moment the world seemed to stop again.

“Do you regret staying?” he asked quietly.

You thought about it for a moment, looking into his eyes, still feeling the tickle of laughter in your chest.

“No... not this time,” you answered, letting the peace of that moment envelop you once again.

After that little water fight, the breeze became cooler and calm settled between you again. You both remained silent, sitting on the sand, watching the sky begin to take on soft tones with the arrival of dawn.

Rafe stood beside you, relaxed but silent, watching the horizon. Despite the peace that surrounded you, tiredness began to take hold of you. The night had been long, and although the moment shared with him had been unexpectedly pleasant, your body was asking for rest.

“I think that’s enough for today… I’m tired,” you murmured softly, breaking the silence as you slowly stood up, shaking the sand from your hands.

Rafe stood beside you, with that carefree air he always seemed to carry with him. He didn’t say anything, simply nodded and began to walk beside you towards the house. The walk was quiet, accompanied only by the distant sound of the waves and the song of the first birds that announced the morning.

When they reached the house, they both climbed the stairs in silence, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the soft creaking of the wood. In front of the door to your room, you stopped, giving him one last look before saying goodbye. But before you could say anything, Rafe moved a little closer, leaning towards you naturally.

His lips brushed your cheek in a soft, brief kiss. It was an unexpected gesture, almost innocent, but it left you completely taken aback. The warmth of his touch was marked on your skin for a few seconds longer than it should have.

“Good night,” he murmured in a low, calm voice, as if it meant nothing.

You didn’t know what to answer. For a moment, your mind went blank, searching for some meaning in that kiss you hadn’t anticipated. But before you could say anything, Rafe had already turned around and started to walk away, walking down the hall as calmly as he had arrived.

You closed the door behind you, leaning your back against it, feeling a mix of emotions you couldn’t define. You had spent the entire night trying to keep things under control, reminding yourself not to cross any lines. However, that small gesture—so simple and yet so full of meaning—had shattered the apparent calm you were trying to build.

You brought a hand to your cheek, as if you wanted to check that it had really happened. The kiss had been brief, but the confusion it left in its place seemed endless. You didn't say anything, because at that moment, not even you knew what it meant.

When morning came, the sun shone brightly, illuminating the landscape imposingly as the fresh morning air swept through the palms of the tall palm trees surrounding the house. However, inside you, there was a palpable tension, as if everything that had dissipated the night before had returned to its natural state, denser than ever.

Rafe seemed as distant as ever, but now, every glance, every gesture on his part, caused a knot in your stomach. The kiss on your cheek seemed to have awakened something in him, although you didn't know exactly what.

You were all together in the kitchen, preparing breakfast while the sound of the coffee maker filled the space with its comforting aroma. Sofia was animated, chatting about trivial things, oblivious to what was really happening between you and Rafe. She seemed completely immune to the atmosphere that had changed between the three of you. You laughed with her, mechanically responding to her comments, but everything in you was distracted, focused on the small space you shared with Rafe. 

He moved around the kitchen with that same calmness as always, but there was something in his attitude that got on your nerves. He gave you fleeting glances, not with the same nonchalance as before, but as if he were evaluating something that he himself could not understand. But he didn't say anything, and neither did you. 

Sofia didn't notice anything. She was absorbed in the conversation, asking if you wanted to go out to explore the place after breakfast, always so cheerful, so oblivious to the discomfort that was beginning to form a thick layer between you and Rafe. Sometimes, it felt like the friendship you and Sofia shared was cracking with each moment you spent alone with him.

You sat down at the table, trying to ignore how uncomfortable the air around you felt. Rafe finally broke the silence, speaking calmly, as if nothing had happened, as if everything was fine. 

The conversation continued as if nothing had happened. Sofia was delighted, oblivious to everything, and you simply tried hard to go with the flow. 

The rest of the day passed like a routine, but one that felt forced and artificial. You were with them, yes, but you felt distant, as if an invisible cloak separated you from Sofia and Rafe. 

When you found the atmosphere becoming uncomfortable or you felt trapped, you took the opportunity to escape. You went out to the garden or to the beach, walking aimlessly, breathing deeply to clear your mind. You needed those moments of solitude, those moments when you could calm your thoughts and get away from the chaos that formed when the three of you were together. 

Despite your escapes, Sofia seemed to be calmer, happier even. Her eyes sparkled as she talked about Rafe, and she enthusiastically told him how everything in the relationship seemed to be improving. The trip, apparently, was helping, as she said. Sofia's smile was easier to see, and the small tensions between her and Rafe seemed to have dissolved, at least in his presence.

At night, while Sofia and Rafe stayed in the house, laughing, or simply cozying up together in front of a movie or on the terrace, you left early. You didn't want to be there, you didn't want to be the spectator of something you couldn't control, that you didn't know how to handle.

Despite the apparent normality that Sofia and Rafe achieved in the moments they spent together, Rafe always came back to you, and no matter how much you tried to escape the tension that was brewing between the two of you, he found a way to get close again, as if there was something inside him that he couldn't ignore.

It was in those moments that you felt that strange mix of attraction and frustration, when he sought you out in those small moments of silence or in the casual exchanges that never seemed to be casual. You felt it in the way he looked at you, that intense gaze that you sometimes avoided, but that you couldn’t help but notice. Every time your eyes met his, the world around you seemed to disappear, leaving you alone with that warm but dangerous feeling that invaded your chest.

He did it without saying a word, just with his presence. Sometimes it was a simple gesture, like when he passed by you and his arm brushed yours, or when he asked you something in a low voice, just enough for you to hear. Other times it was more obvious, when he asked you to accompany him to a secluded corner or when, for no apparent reason, he stayed by your side for longer than necessary, as if he enjoyed the discomfort it caused. 

Even when you tried not to pay attention to him, he kept coming back. You saw it in his messages, the ones he sent with a disturbing naturalness, as if it were normal after everything that had happened. Sometimes you answered them, other times you simply read them and left them unanswered. But he kept looking for an excuse to get closer, always in those moments when you thought you had finally gotten far enough away. 

It was as if, despite everything that was between you, he couldn't stop coming back. And you, even though you tried to fight your own feelings, couldn't help but feel like he knew it too. He knew that, somehow, you always came back to him. And the worst of all was that, even though you tried to resist, you felt attracted too. 

The next day, it was one of those afternoons where the heat of the sun was beginning to wane, and the breeze coming from the sea made the walk more pleasant. You, Rafe and Sofia were walking along a path next to the beach, enjoying a landscape that seemed straight out of a postcard. Sofia, with her usual energy, was talking non-stop with Rafe. They walked slightly ahead of you, while you stayed a few steps behind, distracted by your phone, answering messages and scrolling through social media without paying too much attention to the conversation. 

You weren't really there. Or at least, that's what you tried to be. It was easier this way, less complicated. 

At one point, Sofia stopped to look at some stones that had caught her attention. He walked away a few meters, bending down to pick up a small shell that was shining in the sun. He took the opportunity to take some photos, always attentive to such things.

Meanwhile, Rafe didn't waste a second. He looked down at the ground and saw a small wild flower growing next to the path. It was simple, with white petals and a yellow center, nothing special, but enough to catch his attention. He quickly bent down and plucked it. At first you thought he was going to give it to Sofia, like any boyfriend would do at that moment. It was logical, what anyone would have expected.

But no. It wasn't Sofia he gave it to.

It was you.

Rafe turned slightly and handed you the flower with a disconcerting calm, as if that gesture meant nothing, but in fact it said everything. His eyes met yours for a brief second, a second that seemed longer than it should have been. He didn't say anything, there was no need. You looked at him, surprised, and he just smiled with that expression that seemed to challenge you, that seemed to know exactly what he was doing. 

For a moment, your mind went blank. You didn't know how to react. You couldn't reject it, but you couldn't openly accept it either. So you took the flower, your fingers brushing his for just an instant. The contact was as brief as it was significant. 

With the flower in your hand, you quickly looked over to where Sofia was, making sure she hadn't seen anything. She was still distracted with the shell and the photos, not paying attention to what was happening between you. Your heart was beating a little faster than normal, as if the simple act of receiving that flower was a secret you shouldn't share. 

Not knowing what to do with it, you put it in the back pocket of your shorts, hiding it, but not throwing it away. You didn’t want to get rid of it, even though you knew you should.

You continued walking down the path until you finally arrived back at the house. The sun was beginning to descend on the horizon, tinting the sky in golden and pink hues, creating a perfect atmosphere for a quiet afternoon.

Sofia was the first to propose that you stay outside, on the sand, to enjoy the sunset. You and Rafe agreed, and the three of you settled down on a blanket spread out near the porch. A small cooler with beers sat to one side, and you each took one to relax as the day slowly gave way to night.

The sound of the sea was constant, a soft murmur filling the air.

You sat cross-legged, the cold beer in your hands and the small flower Rafe had given you earlier resting on your knee. At first, you tried not to pay too much attention to it, but before you knew it, you started playing with it. Your fingers gently twirled it, bending the petals, as if you were absorbed in your own thoughts.

Rafe was sitting next to you, closer than you should be comfortable with, but the truth was that you had stopped caring about the closeness. Without saying anything, he looked away at you, watching as you manipulated the flower. His eyes followed the movement of your fingers with an attention that was not casual. It wasn't the flower that interested him, it was the fact that you had kept it. That small gesture meant something, even if neither of you mentioned it.

For her part, Sofia seemed completely oblivious to the subtle tension that was forming between you. She talked about how relaxing it was to be there, about how the trip was helping to disconnect from everything. You nodded and smiled when appropriate, but in reality you were caught up in your own thoughts.

The afternoon passed slowly, between scattered conversations and the constant opening of beers. When it was finally time to eat, they decided to stay outside. Rafe lit a small improvised campfire, and they ate there, with the cool night air beginning to envelop them.

After eating, Sofia was the first to suggest getting into the water. You thought the idea was a good one. There was something liberating about submerging yourself in the sea under the dim light of the night sky. You took off your clothes, leaving you in your bikini, and walked into the water. 

Rafe watched you from where he was sitting, his eyes following you in a way he hadn't done so openly before. It wasn't the first time he'd seen you in a bikini, but this time there was something different in his gaze. An intensity that wasn't there before, an attention that was now impossible to ignore. 

It didn't bother you. You could feel his gaze on you, but you decided not to give it any importance. You weren't looking for his attention, or at least, that's what you told yourself. You entered the water, letting the freshness of the sea envelop you, trying to disconnect, to forget for a moment everything that was happening. 

Soon after, Rafe joined you. He swam close, not enough to invade your space, but close enough that his presence was unavoidable. The moonlight was beginning to reflect off the surface of the water, and the atmosphere felt strange, almost unreal. Sofia, meanwhile, stood on the shore, laughing and playing with the waves that barely touched her feet.

Rafe watched you silently, as if he were debating something internally. But he didn't say anything. And neither did you. You just floated there, in that moment suspended in time, where everything seemed about to change, but nothing did.

It was close to 1 a.m. when Sofia decided it was time to go to sleep. She got up, drying her feet and shaking the sand off her legs before approaching you.

"I'm going to bed," she told you.

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. You were tired, and that whole day had been confusing enough that you wanted to finally disconnect.

"Yeah, I think I'm going too," you answered, slowly getting up as Sofia called Rafe to join her as well.

He was sitting on the sand, his eyes fixed on the dark horizon of the sea, as if he were lost in some deep thought. He turned his head towards her, with a calm expression, and simply said:

“I'll stay a little longer.”

Sofia didn't insist. She smiled and disappeared towards the house, leaving only her footprints in the sand. You followed her with your gaze, with the firm intention of doing the same, of returning and closing the day. But when you took a step towards the house, something inside you made you stop.

You turned slowly, your bare feet returning to the cold sand, and without saying anything you returned to the water. You didn't want to think too much about what you were doing. The water was calm, a dark expanse that blended with the sky, and when you entered, the cold ran through your skin, waking you up completely.

Rafe saw you return. He didn't ask anything. He simply stood up and followed you, entering the water beside you. The silence between you was thick, but not uncomfortable. There was a different energy, a tension that needed no words.

You felt him close, his presence inescapable. You wanted to ignore him, to keep your distance, but every fiber of your being was aware of him. His eyes searched for you in the darkness, and you, despite everything, avoided looking directly at him.

Until you couldn’t take it anymore. You felt his hand reach out to you, his fingers brushing your arm with a softness that was almost imperceptible, but enough to make you stop. You didn’t move away. You let him touch you because, deep down, you wanted him to.

Rafe approached slowly, the water barely reaching the height of his hips when he took you by the waist, with a firmness that you hadn’t expected, but that you didn’t reject. You stood still, your breathing getting heavier, the air between you getting thicker.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured, his voice low, barely audible over the sound of the waves.

You heard him, but you didn’t respond. Not because you didn’t have something to say, but because you didn’t want to break the moment. His words were a confession you’d been waiting for, even though you were afraid to hear them.

And then, without warning, Rafe kissed you. It was a kiss that didn’t seek permission, that didn’t hesitate. His lips found yours with a need you’d felt in yourself for days, but had repressed.

And you… you let him. Because you couldn’t take it anymore. Because you wanted it.

The kiss was intense, charged with everything you’d both been repressing. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The water surrounded you, cold and silent, but everything about you was fire, heat, desire.

After what seemed like an eternity, you parted slightly, your breaths mingling, your foreheads resting against each other. You didn’t say anything, and neither did he.

They stepped out of the water in silence, their bare feet leaving small footprints in the wet sand. Rafe led you to a dark corner, out of reach of the light coming from the house, where the night seemed more private, more his.

He gently laid you down on the cold sand, his body leaning over yours, but with a gentleness you hadn’t expected. His eyes searched for you in the dim light, and you whispered to him:

“No one’s ever kissed me the way you do.”

These words pierced him. He had no answer. And he kissed you again, and you let him, once again.

The night became denser when the kiss ended. You slowly separated from Rafe, your lips still trembling from the contact, and your eyes, full of emotions you couldn't contain, closed for a moment as you felt silent tears fall down your cheeks.

You didn't want to cry, not like that, not in front of him. But you did. It was inevitable. Guilt and desire intertwined in your chest, drowning you.

Rafe noticed it right away. Without saying anything, his fingers gently brushed your face, drying one of those tears, as if that gesture could erase everything that was going through you.

"I feel bad..." you whispered with a broken voice, barely a murmur that the sound of the sea almost drowned out.

You regretted it. Not just the kiss, but everything that had led up to that moment. Of having let yourself go. Of having crossed a line that you swore you would never cross. Sofia was asleep just a few feet away, trusting you, him, and you had broken that trust.

“I shouldn’t have… we shouldn’t have done this,” you added, your gaze fixed on the ground, unable to meet his eyes.

Rafe didn’t look away from you. You could feel his attention, that intensity that always seemed to envelop him, as if the rest of the world didn’t matter when you were around. He placed a firm hand on your cheek, gently forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t feel bad,” he said in a low, serious voice. “I need you more than you know.”

His words were simple, but heavy with weight. You stood still, your thoughts teetering between what was right and what you wanted. You didn’t want to hear that, but at the same time, you had longed for it.

“If this is what you want, I’ll leave Sofia. I’ll do whatever it takes.” His eyes searched yours, looking for an answer, a sign that you could accept what he was willing to offer you.

You shuddered at that. It wasn’t what you wanted, at least not like this. Sofia was your friend, an important part of your life, and you knew how much it would hurt her. The last thing you wanted was to destroy her, to take away something she still believed was hers.

“No…” you answered, shaking your head with a mix of firmness and desperation. “You can’t do that. I don’t want Sofia to suffer. She deserves to be happy.”

Rafe sighed, his frustration evident, but he didn’t let go of you. He moved a little closer, as if his words could convince you.

“You have to be happy too,” he replied with determination. “What about you? Why are you always thinking about everyone but yourself?”

You didn’t know what to say. Because, deep down, you knew he was right. You had spent so much time worrying about others, about keeping Sofia happy, about protecting the friendship, that you had forgotten about yourself, about your own wants and needs. But at what cost?

“I don’t know…” you admitted quietly, feeling each word cost you more.

Rafe leaned closer to you, his eyes locked on yours, his voice softer now, almost whispering:

“When we get back, I’m going to leave her. I can’t keep pretending. I can’t keep walking away from you.”

His words shook you. It was a statement you had feared and hoped for at the same time. Your heart was pounding, while your mind struggled to find an answer, a way out that wouldn’t hurt anyone. But you knew there wasn’t an easy one.

You stayed silent, letting the night breeze wash over you, while Rafe was still there, his hands still on you, his presence unwavering.

The next few days in that paradise you had longed for became a kind of torture. A sweet and bitter torture that seemed to have no end. Every morning, every afternoon, every night, Rafe found a way to get close to you, to seek you out with the slightest excuse. A touch of hands when Sofia wasn’t looking, a look loaded with meaning as you walked together, a stolen kiss in the shadows when the moment allowed it.

You couldn’t help it. He was constant, persistent. He knew exactly how to attract you, how to make you lower the defenses you had built up so much.

One afternoon, while you were on the terrace, watching the calm ocean, Rafe approached with something in his hand. Without saying anything, he placed it in your palm. It was a ring, delicate and beautiful. You looked at it, bewildered.

“Why are you giving me this?” you asked him with a lump in your throat, your fingers closing around the ring.

He didn’t respond with words. She just looked at you, with that mix of desire and determination that worried you so much, as if she were marking a silent promise. You didn't understand why she had it, or why she had given it to you, but there it was, in your trembling hand.

The days passed, and you felt more and more trapped. The sun, the sand, the sea breeze, everything that had seemed perfect to you before now suffocated you. You wanted to go home, return to the routine, to the family chaos, to anything that would allow you to escape this dilemma. Because at home, perhaps, you could separate from Rafe.

Not because you didn't want to, not because his kisses didn't burn your skin or his gaze didn't make you tremble. But because you knew it wasn't the right thing to do.

Sofia was still by your side, oblivious to everything, excited about this trip that she thought was saving her relationship. And every time she looked at you with a grateful smile, you felt the weight of your actions sinking you deeper.

Rafe, on the other hand, didn't seem to feel that weight. He looked for you every moment, as if nothing else mattered. As if he was sure that everything would end well, that when he returned, his life would change, with you by his side. But you didn't share that certainty. You couldn't.

But it didn't matter how much you wanted to deny it. It didn't matter how many times your reason screamed at you that you had to stop, that this wasn't right. Because at the end of the day, none of that seemed enough. You still loved Rafe.

You loved him with an intensity you hadn't felt before, a force that dragged you every time you were near him. It didn't matter how much you told yourself that you had to be strong, that you had to get away. Every time he looked for you, every time he looked at you with those eyes full of desire, you fell again.

His kisses were a trap you didn't want to escape from. His hands on your skin were an anchor that kept you in a place where logic and morality faded away. You liked how he made you feel, how he loved you, how he seemed so sure of what he wanted, of what he wanted with you.

And you... you wanted it too. You wanted it from the first kiss under the shade, from that flower you kept in the back pocket of your shorts. You wanted it from the first touch you shared in secret. You wanted him.

Rafe loved you too. He didn't say it in words, but he showed it to you every time he found a way to be alone with you. In every furtive glance, in every caress when Sofia wasn't there, in every moment when his lips urgently sought yours. He liked loving you. He liked the power you had over him, the way his thoughts revolved around you, leaving everything else in the background.

You knew it was wrong. You knew that every kiss you shared, every moment his hands sought you out, took you further away from what was right, from the loyalty you owed Sofia. But you also knew you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop.

Every night, when the world fell silent, you thought about it. About how you had crossed that invisible line and how there was no turning back. You were trapped in a dangerous game that neither of you seemed to want to leave. And even though a part of you felt guilty, another part—the one that flared up every time you were with him—didn’t want to let go.

Because in the end, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you should stop. No matter how much your reason screamed at you. You still loved Rafe. And the worst thing was that he loved you too, and that made it impossible to stop.

[arieslost]

one night only | cl16

charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: when the miami grand prix comes around, charles books a hotel room.

word count: 3,263

warnings: 18+ content MDNI!! mentions of cheating (don’t do it), cursing, charles is a player but you’re down bad (who isn’t), this is my first time writing smut so enjoy!

special thank you to @venusacrossthestars for being my beta reader, ily bestie <3

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

unknown number: Our hotel. 10:30. Your keycard is at the front desk.

It was like clockwork. Every weekend of the Miami Grand Prix, you always ended up with a keycard in your hand. When Monday came, you woke up, showered, and took the tiny bottle of shampoo that you used with you when you left. It went in a shoebox under your bed to remind yourself not only of your mistakes, but of each and every night you spent forgetting them in the arms of the biggest mistake himself— Charles Leclerc.

It’s happened twice now. You hardly remembered the first, barring a joke you made about whether or not you needed to sign a NDA. Charles had silenced you by backing you up against the locked door and pressing heated kisses to your jaw, lips moving down your neck as you pulled him closer. He was excited that weekend— he’d taken P2, and it was thanks to the celebration he partook in at the club that he met you.

You were a bartender for the VIP section at a club near the track. It was easy work, if you didn’t mind all the flirting and catcalling. You were never one to be affected by it; you knew they were all either drunk beyond recognition, or would be by the end of the night. You loved your job. You also loved your boyfriend, whose shift you’d picked up that night.

But then Charles Leclerc, Scuderia Ferrari’s golden boy, sat down at the bar. Your bar.

After that weekend, you didn’t have a boyfriend. How could you, when every time he kissed you, you saw a certain Monegasque behind your closed eyelids? When every time he touched you, you imagined different hands caressing your skin?

You’ve always prided yourself in being a strong, independent woman, but when it came to the Formula One driver, all your inhibitions went out the window, and your pride with them. So you tried not to get attached to him. You were perfectly happy to be the annual hookup, to let yourself go for one night out of the 365 that came in a year. You didn’t need to get to know him, you didn’t need to learn more about the sport; you didn’t even need to kiss him on the mouth.

You didn’t.

So why were the words “our hotel” making your heart race every time you read over the text from his unsaved number?

You thought about responding, but in the end, you settled for liking the message, just like you did the last time he texted you. It had been his idea to keep this up in the first place, anyway.

2022.

“Where’re you going?” He was half awake, sleep fading quickly from his eyes when he took in the sight of you with your hand on the doorknob.

“I was leaving… unless you changed your mind about that NDA?” You quipped.

“That’s as funny as it was last night,” he groaned, stretching out and pushing the blankets off his body.

Ahh, last night. He’d put his boxers back on before falling asleep, but they didn’t really leave much to the imagination. Especially because it was all so fresh in your mind. The way he looked– hair mussed after all the times your hands had run through it, golden skin against the crisp, white hotel sheets, the red scratch marks on his back… Yeah, it was a miracle that you didn’t launch yourself back into the bed right then and there. You still dreamt about it sometimes, the way he looked so ethereal in the early morning sunlight streaming through the curtains.

“Are you going to continue to mock my sense of humor, or can I be on my way?” Your throat was so dry.

“I’ll be back in the area next year.” He didn’t offer any explanation— it was Charles Leclerc. He didn’t have to.

You fished out the piece of paper you’d scrawled your number on earlier before promptly stuffing it into your pocket in a moment of retrospection. Hell bent on leaving the room before you acted on the impulse to get on top of him again, you tossed it onto the nightstand.

“Make sure I can tell it’s you.” It was the last thing you said to him before you finally made it out the door.

Now, you read over his text again as you climbed the steps to the VIP section of the club. Our hotel. You were going to need some liquid courage if you were going to fuck him tonight.

A solid perk of your job was free access to the VIP section when you weren’t working, and in times like these you were most definitely going to take advantage of it. A couple shots were all you needed to take the edge off, and you downed them in quick succession before checking the time- 10:10. You were cutting it close, but the closer it got to 10:30, the antsier you became. You decided to linger for five more minutes, and called for another round.

“You okay?” One of your coworkers asked from behind the bar as he filled the shot glasses in front of you. “You look a little nervous.”

You laughed, waving him off. “I’m fine. Now leave me alone so I can enjoy my drinks, will you?”

He flipped you off good naturedly before turning to his other customers.

With another shot down, you took out your phone, the text still front and center on the display. You swiped it away, instead opening up the search engine. Against your better judgment, you typed the sentence you’d been restraining yourself from searching up all day long: miami gp 2024 results.

The first thing you saw was his name. CHARLES LECLERC WINS 2024 MIAMI GRAND PRIX.

You fought the urge to smile, quickly grabbing your fourth and final shot and tipping it back. Ironically, the burn of the whiskey sobered you up a little as you gazed at the picture showcasing his beaming face and dimpled cheeks, both hands lifting the first place trophy high in the air. You made the mistake of bringing up the race (or lack thereof) the last time you saw him, and since then you’d made an effort to try and avoid anything to do with F1.

2023.

“Disqualified? I mean, it’s shit!” You exclaimed heatedly as you wiped down the bar. Your phone was burning a hole in your pocket, making your stomach squirm with excitement every time you remembered the text.

Same hotel. 10:30. There’s a keycard at the front desk. No NDA. You had giggled at that last bit, and if you’d completely given up on your morals then you might have fallen in love with him for remembering the joke that he didn’t even crack a smile at last year. You’d practiced some French, and you paid attention to news about the Miami Grand Prix, but you hadn’t given up on your morals.​​ You weren’t going to fall for and pursue the guy you only saw once a year.

The French was simply because you wanted to brush up on your rusty high school skills. As for the news… well, you were in the area. Everyone was paying attention to the news.

“I didn’t realize you cared so much.” Your coworker replied, an eyebrow cocked at your reaction to what the reporter was saying on the TV.

“I don’t care, I just think it’s stupid.” You backpedaled, trying to sound more casual than you did a second ago, especially when Charles appeared on the screen looking nothing short of dead inside and your heart began to beat a little faster. “Everyone should be able to race.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the FIA for you.” One of your patrons grumbled, thumbing through his wallet and producing two five dollar bills. “Thanks, guys.”

“You keep that,” you shoved both bills into your coworker’s hand after the customer was out of earshot. “I have to go.”

You changed at the speed of light in the VIP bathroom before going to the hotel. You showed the clerk your ID, collected the keycard, entered the room, and promptly made a fool of yourself.

“I heard about the disqualification on the news…” You trailed off when you were met with a glare, not necessarily towards you but rather the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now.” Was all he said before he practically manhandled you onto the bed, pulling his shirt over his head as you bounced back on the mattress. “When I’m with you, I don’t want to talk about work. I don’t want to talk at all.”

“Okay,” you agreed quietly, any other words dying in your throat as he hurriedly pushed your dress up past your stomach and immediately started kissing every inch of newly exposed skin.

When he reached the apex of your thighs, he looked up at you. “The only thing I want to hear you say for the rest of the night is my name, understand?”

He’d grabbed your hands and put them in his hair that night, right as he had you seeing stars courtesy of his head between your legs. You dreamt about that, too. A lot. You always woke up sweating, in desperate need of a certain type of relief that only he could give you.

You were thinking about last year again as you walked through the revolving doors into the hotel lobby, the shots of whiskey making your veins thrum with excitement.

The way he had whined when you pulled his hair.

The way he smirked at you as he crawled back up your body, so full of himself and so damn sexy.

You found yourself wondering what he’d be like tonight after winning the race as you gave your name to the clerk at the front desk, hoping she wouldn’t comment on how flushed you looked. She asked to see your ID, then handed the keycard over. Room 24. You were there in moments. He always booked a room on the third floor. As you walked down the hallway, you were vaguely aware of the fact that, against your will, this had become something of a routine.

You and Charles Leclerc. One night only.

For three years in a row.

You hadn’t even bothered to dress up this time— your clothes wouldn’t be staying on very long, anyway.

You were glad to see that you’d gotten there first when you opened the door, pocketing the keycard as the door swung shut behind you. There was no point in looking around the room; you knew the layout like the back of your hand. Eventually, you drew your attention to the view out of the large window, moving the curtain out of your way to admire the view of the Miami night. You tried imagining what everyone else was doing at that exact moment to distract yourself, but your mind kept going back to Charles.

Charles, Charles, Charles. Just thinking about him made your heart knock against your chest, and you were in the middle of mentally berating yourself for it when you heard the door opening and Charles himself walked in, the trophy you saw him holding in the picture still in his hand.

“Hey,” you greeted him, nerves adding a slight shake to your voice.

He gave you a soft smile in return, setting the trophy down on the nightstand and adjusting it slightly.

You remembered how he reacted the last time you mentioned his job, but this had to be different. Besides, it felt wrong not to acknowledge it when the trophy was literally sitting right there.

“Congrats— or, actually, félicitations on the win,” you said, dropping the curtain back and stepping closer to get a better look at the trophy. “Much better result than last year.”

“You’re not kidding.” He scoffed, taking his hat off and tossing it on the other side of the nightstand. “You know French?”

“A little.”

He had changed out of his race suit, but when you stood next to him you could still smell the champagne.

“Think you’ll be in the running for the championship?” You asked casually, even though you knew that he was in a great position already and was most definitely in the running for the championship.

You tried to avoid Formula One. You just weren’t all that successful.

He gave you a look, like he was trying to get in your head and figure out when you’d started paying attention. “I hope so,” he finally answered. “This could be the year.”

“I hope so too.” A pause. “Would it be overstepping if I said I was proud of you?”

This brought a real smile to his face, his dimples seeming even more prominent than they did in the photo. “Not at all. It’s actually really nice… hearing that from you.”

The usual initial awkwardness had finally faded away, and you knew what was going to happen next. You wished you could sit down with him and listen to him retell every moment of his triumphant race, but you couldn’t.

That’s what girlfriends do. Not hookups. You were perfectly fine with being a hookup, and you would continue to repeat it to yourself until you believed it again.

To mask your disappointment, you reached out and gently took his hand. His palm was warm under your touch as you pulled him close. “How about we celebrate that first place, hmm?”

The two of you moved like a well oiled machine, even after not seeing each other in a year.

He always tried to kiss you. You always turned your head at the last second. If he was disappointed, he never showed it, instead focusing on getting you underneath him. Not that he had to try very hard.

Charles had a way of making you forget. With every brush of his fingers against your bare skin, every press of his lips at your collarbone, you slipped away from reality more and more, until the only things that mattered were you, him, and the hotel room. Nothing existed outside of the four walls you were within, and how could you care right now? You couldn’t, not when he had already gotten you out of your shirt and bra and his hand was gently taking hold of your breast. He was taking his time, studying your every move in response to his own. His thumb brushed across your nipple just enough for your breath to catch in your throat, a soft gasp escaping your parted lips.

“Yeah, baby, I know,” he murmured, ego clearly inflated by the fact that the slightest touch from him still had you reacting this way, and you wished more than anything that you could kiss that stupid smirk off his face.

“I thought we were supposed to be celebrating,” you managed to say as his thumb continued its back and forth motion.

“This is me celebrating.” He paused, giving you a pointed look. “Is this not good enough for you?”

You bit your tongue, chest rising and falling as you squirmed underneath him due to the sudden lack of stimulation. “I-I just—”

“What? Utilise tes mots, chérie. Je sais que tu peux.” Use your words, dear. I know you can.

You took a breath, then looked directly into his stunning green eyes as you reached up, grabbed his wrist, and pushed his hand down. “Je te veux ici, Charles.” I want you here.

He cursed lowly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment when he heard you speaking French back to him. “You said you only knew a little.”

“Just the important stuff,” you teased, eyes traveling down from his bare chest to his fingers as he tugged your underwear off.

The rest of his clothes followed, and he didn’t waste any time rolling on a condom and pushing himself into you, a punched breath leaving his lips once he was fully seated inside you. “Thought about this all day,” he said, large hands running over your naked body. “Couldn’t wait to see you.”

“You can’t say that kind of shit to me, Charles.” You sighed, your eyes closed as you adjusted to him.

“Why not?”

“Because it messes with my head,” you admitted.

“I mean it, though.”

“Did you mean to say ‘our hotel’ too?” You opened your eyes now, the burning question finally about to be answered.

“It is, don’t you think?” He asked, and then he started to move; slowly, tantalizingly.

“Shit. I can’t think when I’m with you.”

You couldn’t talk after that, not when he was making you feel so good. You could only wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer and marking his neck wherever your lips landed. You shouldn’t have, and he should have stopped you, but neither of you cared. Every lewd noise coming from his mouth made you feel hotter and hotter, and just when you thought you were going to burst into a ball of flames, he started talking.

“I want you to look at yourself,” he instructed breathlessly, maneuvering you so he was now laying on his side behind you… and you were staring right into your own eyes in the shiny surface of his first place trophy. “See how beautiful you look when I fuck you.”

You gasped, eyes rolling back, bringing your arm back so your hand could find a home in his hair again. You watched through the trophy as he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, breath hot against your skin and arm tightening around you as he picked up his pace.

“Charles, I—”

“Mhmm,” he moaned in your ear, his hand slipping back between your legs when he felt you tightening around him. “Go on, baby, let go for me.”

You didn’t need to learn more about Formula One, but you had. You didn’t need to know more about Charles Leclerc, but you wanted to. You didn’t need to kiss him on the mouth. But your mind was hazy, and you wanted to know how his lips felt on yours. You wanted it so bad that, when the both of you had come back down to earth, you didn’t fight it when he leaned in and captured your lips with his. He kissed you deeply, rolling you onto your back against the pillows. You felt his hand against your cheek, and as you opened your mouth for him you tangled your fingers with his.

You weren’t stupid. You knew that things wouldn’t change.

And they don’t.

You still wake up before him in the morning. You still shower. You still put your clothes back on. You still trade parting words with each other, and you don’t hear from him for another year. You still take the shampoo bottle and put it in your shoebox when you get home, ignoring the ache between your legs the whole while.

Nothing changes.

Except now, you’ve spent a year knowing what it’s like to kiss him. You know how easily your lips mold together, how you would happily spend your one night with him doing nothing but kissing him.

And when the text lights up your phone, a thrill shoots through you.

CL16: Our hotel. 10:00. You know where to find your keycard. 😉

Maybe, somehow, you can find a way to keep your morals and be in love with Charles Leclerc at the same time.

note: well, here it is— after two+ years, i have made my long awaited return to posting fics on tumblr. i’ve done it in style by posting 18+ content for the first time; i hope it wasn’t too cringy to read. i don’t know what came over me, but here we are. thank you so much for reading.

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

also, i’ve been out of high school for almost three years now, so i greatly apologize if the french is bad or incorrect.

beautiful dividers by @saradika !!

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @naturallyspontaneous @whatever7justchillin @outerudeth @devlovesbooks @wegaveitago @seagulltacotoaster @acarguello1 @fangirlika @simplyscorpio @nuccibeboo2 @heeygemmilala @toppersjeep @anedpev @vee2004dee @chriss-club @lewisroscoelove @scaramou @aneverythingwriter @bingewatche @candystarfish @bestpart0fmylife @topgunmav1df1 @taytaythirteen @jackiekennedys @tpwk-loml @mangodreamsicle @rafaaoli @bunbun9396 @olicitymckono @weareallsnottygirls @jenm26 @alicecourtier @oliveswiftly @janeholt3 @d3kstar @l-inas @smiithys @spookylilmeep @barcelono @ililali-blog @srhh15 @sainz-leclerc @lilycampbells-blog @cassandra-nerezza-black @nova-rush

[cjlouwho]

The Things I Cannot Change

I made this post a couple days ago then had to write a fic about it. Enjoy! Read below or on ao3.

“Wait a minute, you're datin' Kinard?” Gerrard asked mid-swing. He had taken Buck out to Topgolf as a thank you for saving his life. Although, Buck still wasn't sure that was actually his intention at the time.

“Yes, Sir,” Buck replied, steeling himself for whatever was going to come out of the man's mouth next.

“He got a sister or something?”

“No, Sir.”

“Didn't think so.” Gerrard planted his feet and swung, unsatisfied by where the ball landed. “So you're a... one of those?”

“Bisexual, yes.”

He rocked back on his heels. “Oh, you swing both ways? Interesting, interesting. You didn't hear about all that back in my day, Buckley. The world has definitely changed.”

“We've always existed,” Buck replied, a part of him wondering why he didn't shove Gerrard to the ground just a little bit harder.

They each took another turn before Gerrard spoke again. “Kinard,” he said, contemplatively. “Gotta say, don't see you two matching.”

Buck closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before turning to Gerrard. “Why's that?”

“Don't get me wrong, Buck, he was a great firefighter when he worked under me. Dotted his I's, crossed his T's. But he wasn't always that way. There's a lot about him...” He shook his head. “Hm. What am I saying, I'm sure you know everything about him anyway, right?”

“Y- yeah,” Buck replied. He knew Gerrard's mind games. Knew better than to fall for it. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

He walked over to his golf carrier, straightening the firefighter club cover.

“That Operation Thunderbolt was something else, wasn't it?” Gerrard asked.

It took everything in Buck's power to not start asking questions. “Mhm.”

“Mistakes like that can't happen in the firefighting world. Told Kinard as much when he started. Damn, he was a mess back then.” Gerrard let out a laugh. “I whipped him into shape real good. Made him who he is.”

“Mm, yeah. I- I'm sure.”

“That Thunderbolt though,” Gerrard sucked in a breath. “Not good, Buckley. Not good.”

*****

“I think Gerrard is still playing mind games with me,” Buck said to Eddie as he plopped down on the couch. It was a rare shift they had without Gerrard, meaning they could actually sit down and relax.

“Of course he is,” Eddie replied, not bothering to look up from the magazine he was reading. “He took you golfing, Buck. And to lunch, twice.”

“Yeah, but it's more than that now. He, uh, he found out I'm dating Tommy.”

Eddie peered over his magazine at that, eying Buck closely. “He found out? How'd that happen?”

“I... kinda told him.”

“And you think that was a wise decision?”

Buck sat up straighter. “It was the only decision, Eddie. He asked if I was seeing anyone. I- I wasn't gonna lie and say no, or- or make it seem like I was seeing a woman just to make him-”

Eddie raised a hand to stop him. “Buck, not judging. Just asking.”

“Right, well,” he settled into the couch again, clearing his throat. “He knows now.”

“And?”

“And he said he didn't see us matching.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Big surprise there. You can't let him bother you, Buck. Gotta let that stuff roll right off ya.”

“Yeah, I- I did. But, he just... Do you think I know everything about Tommy?”

“I don't know,” Eddie answered, confused. “I'm not a fly on your wall, Buck, I don't know what you two talk about.”

“But, generally speaking, do you think I know him? Because, he knows all my stuff. Like, Daniel, and my parents, and the way I acted when I was younger to get attention. He knows all the different versions of Buck, ya know? And I just, I don't know if I know all his versions.”

“I don't think you ever really stop getting to know someone, Buck. You might think he knows all about you, but I'm sure you surprise him every day.”

Buck sighed. “I'm talking the big stuff, Eddie, not whether or not I enjoy whipped cream being licked off me-”

“Okay, no.”

“Eddie.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “I don't know what you want from me, Man. What are you trying to get at?”

“Gerrard mentioned something to me about Tommy that I've never heard of, and I have no idea if he's is lying or not.”

“If it's about Tommy, I'd say he's probably making something out to be worse than it is. Gerrard doesn't seem to fond of the guy.”

Buck nodded. “Yeah. No, no, yeah, I- I agree.”

“So, all good now?”

“Mhm. Yeah, all good. It was stupid anyway.” He grabbed a book from the coffee table, flipping to a random page. “Something about Tommy's time in the army. Operation Thunderbolt,” he shrugged. “I'm sure it's nothing.”

He wasn't sure what made him look up. He hadn't expected Eddie to respond anyway. But when he did glance over at him, he saw Eddie with his eyes practically frozen as he stared at a spot on the wall. Buck knew that look.

Avoidance.

“Eddie?”

Buck's voice seemed to break him out of his trance. He returned to his magazine, eyebrows furrowed. He clearly wasn't reading the article in front of him.

“Eddie?” Buck repeated, louder this time. “Do... Do you know something?”

There were a few more seconds of silence, Eddie's lips pursed as he tried to think of what to say. “I... Buck, it's not really my place.”

Now Buck was worried. “So it's true? There was an Operation Thunderbolt?”

“Buck, I'm not gonna do this,” Eddie said as he stood. He dropped his magazine down on the coffee table and went to walk away. “You need to leave it alone.”

Buck followed him. “Hey, I was your friend first,” he said. And yeah, maybe that was childish, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

Eddie swirled around, nearly knocking into Buck. “That's not fair, and it's not gonna work. If it's gonna bother you so much, talk to Tommy yourself. But I'm warning you, you need to leave it alone.”

When Eddie walked away, Buck didn't follow.

He trusted Eddie. Knew there had to be a good reason he wouldn't get into it.

He'd do what Eddie said.

He'd let it go.

He would.

He would really try to let it go.

*****

He couldn't let it go.

He headed to Tommy's place after work. Tommy had been promising to make his infamous chicken pot pie, the one everyone at the 217 was obsessed with, and tonight was the night.

The food was in the oven, and they were on the couch. Some show was playing on the TV, but it was mainly on for background noise while they made out.

It was kind of a tradition of theirs. Kiss while dinner cooked and then pick up where they left off after they were done eating.

But this time was different, because the words Operation Thunderbolt kept flashing through Buck's mind. Gerrard's voice telling Buck he was sure they knew everything about each other. Eddie's face when he brought up the operation. How closed off he became, how he avoided Buck for the rest of the day.

“Okay,” Tommy said, pulling away. “What's wrong?”

Buck tried to look dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”

“I did that thing with my tongue that always makes you jump in my lap and you didn't even react. What's wrong?”

Buck shook his head, straightening out his shirt. “N- Nothing. I just... I think I'm tired from work is all.”

Tommy tilted his head. “Evan.”

“It's nothing, really. Let's just,” Buck tugged at Tommy's shirt, trying to bring him in for another kiss, “let's keep going. I'll react this time.”

As Buck attempted to pull Tommy closer, Tommy leaned his head back and wrapped his hands around Buck's wrists, stopping him. “Evan, come on. Be honest with me.”

And those were quite possibly the worst set of words Tommy could have chosen, because it took Buck from worried to angry in under a second.

“Honest?” He practically jerked his hands away from Tommy. “You want me to be honest with you?”

“It is the best policy.”

Buck scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course you'd think this is a joke.”

“Evan, I'm not really sure what this is at all. I'd love it if you could fill me in though.”

“It's... It's,” Buck stood, hands on his hips, “It's a lot of things, Tommy.”

“Starting with...?”

“I went golfing with Gerrard a couple days ago.”

Tommy nodded. “I remember. You didn't talk much about it though. Did something happen?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it did.”

“Okay. What was it?”

“Doesn't matter,” Buck replied, beginning to pace back and forth. Just a few steps in one direction before turning back around.

“Obviously it does.”

“Eddie told me to let it go.”

“That doesn't seem to be happening. Come on, Evan.” Tommy stood, grasping onto Buck's arm to stop his pacing. “I'm serious. Talk to me.”

Buck stared him down. Looked deep into his eyes like he was trying to get direct access to his soul.

“Operation Thunderbolt.”

He'd never seen two words cause such an instant and dramatic shift in a person before. All the color drained from Tommy's face. His expression fell to nothing, mouth slightly open in shock. He looked like he was about to vomit, or pass out one.

A part of Buck wished he would have left it alone. Never let the words leave his mouth and dropped it like Eddie said.

The other part of Buck was still angry, and wanted to keep pushing his buttons. Wanted to find out why Eddie got to know parts of Tommy that Buck didn't get to know.

Tommy took a couple steps back, until his shins hit the couch and he could sit down again.

“E- Evan, I-”

“You know, I'm not even pissed that I don't know what the hell those words even mean. I'm pissed because I'm apparently the only one who doesn't know.”

Tommy's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He stared straight ahead, unable to even look in Buck's direction. “I really... I can't talk about this right now, Evan.”

“You mean you can't talk about it with me. Apparently you can yack it up with Gerrard and Eddie.”

Tommy unclenched his fists, resting them over his bouncing knees. “Gerrard knows about that because it's why I was discharged from the army. It was on my record and he talked to me about it when I first started at the 118.”

Buck crossed his arms over his chest. “And Eddie?”

The question came out accusatory. He hated that Eddie knew a part of Tommy that he didn't.

“Eddie was in the army.” Tommy finally managed to look up at Buck. His eyes were red-rimmed, filled with an emotion Buck had never seen from the man before. “He understands it.”

“And I don't?”

“No,” Tommy replied honestly. “No, you don't, Evan. And I'm really glad you don't.”

“I've told you everything about me, Tommy! All the bad stuff, all the embarrassing stuff! I thought you'd done the same, but apparently I'm the only one really in this relationship.”

Tommy's eyes darkened. He stood back up, chest heaving. “Do not try and compare stealing fire engines for sex to what I did.”

“I don't even know what you did, Tommy!” Buck exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration. “Did you fly to the wrong place? Disobey orders? Get a slap on the wrist from a commanding officer? Someone find out you were-”

“I killed an entire family!” Tommy yelled, causing Buck to jump back ever so slightly. He'd never heard Tommy raise his voice before.

“Wh- What?”

“Thunderbolt was a codename for an operation in Iraq. We were supposed to take out a terrorist cell,” Tommy explained, speaking quickly. “Target was confirmed so I fired. Not even a second later I hear abort, abort, abort in my headset, but it was already too late. Intel was bad, I ended up directing a missile to an innocent family. Grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, and ten kids. I killed an entire bloodline, Evan.”

“T- Tommy-”

“They're just heat signatures on a monitor, Kinard, nothing more. That's what my commanding officer told me. But I couldn't let it go. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I was a mess. They gave me an honorable discharge and a damn medal for killing those people.”

“I didn't-”

“Sometimes I think about it too much,” Tommy continued, ignoring Buck's interruptions. “One day Eddie was coming over for Muay Thai and I could barely get myself up off the couch. He knew something was wrong and we started talking. I don't have many friends, Evan, and Eddie is the first I've had that was in the army. It's easy to talk to him about this stuff because I don't feel like I have to explain myself over and over again or worry that he's going to think I'm a monster.”

“I don't think you're a monster.” Buck's voice was small. He felt like he was two feet tall.

“I can tell when a person looks at me differently, Evan. Saw it the second I told you.”

“Yeah, because I was surprised! It's a lot to throw on a person!”

“I didn't want to throw it on you! I was gonna tell you eventually, but I didn't feel ready yet. Didn't know how to explain it to you.” Tommy stood, his nervous energy taking over. He walked past Buck and headed for the door. “I can't do this right now. I need to go.”

“This is your house, Tommy. I'll go.”

“No, I need to get out.” He grabbed his coat and his keys. “Can you turn off the oven for me, please?”

“Tommy, come on, please don't leave mad. I'm sorry, okay?”

Tommy paused, the door half open. “Not mad, Evan. You definitely don't need to apologize to me. I just... I can't. You have a key. Lock up when you leave.”

*****

Buck gave Tommy twenty-four hours before sending a text.

Can I come over to talk please?

He waited thirty minutes before trying again.

Tommy, I don't think you're a monster, and I'd like to apologize to you in person. I know I threw that on you and I shouldn't have.

Still nothing.

So, he tried calling. It rang seven times before it went to voicemail.

“Tommy, I just wanna talk. I- I know I probably deserve the silent treatment but... I just wanna talk. Call me back, please.”

Buck was not known for his patience. It took everything within him to not get in his car and drive to Tommy's place right then and there.

But he didn't want to smother Tommy, at least not more than he already had. He waited an hour, then started getting ready for bed. He had to be at work early tomorrow, and if Tommy wasn't ready to talk yet, he'd respect that.

It was the least he could do.

When he woke up for work the next day and had no missed messages or calls from Tommy, he worried.

He had half expected to hear something from him during the night.

When he got to work, he made a beeline for Eddie, who was putting some things into his locker.

“Eddie, have you heard from Tommy in the past couple days?”

“Good morning to you too, Buck. My time off was great, thanks for asking.”

“Come on, I'm serious. Have you heard from him?”

Eddie closed his locker door and turned to Buck. “I thought you were spending your time off with him?”

“We had a... a thing.”

“A thing?”

“A fight,” Buck clarified. “Sort of. A fight-ish.”

“A... A fight-ish? Would this fight-ish have to do with Gerrard and a certain military operation?”

Buck shrugged. “Maybe. Possibly you too.”

“Me?!” Eddie exclaimed. “Why me?”

“Listen, I got a little angry over the fact you seem to know Tommy better than I do and I may have expressed as much, okay? And yes, I mentioned the operation, and kind of forced him into explaining, which may have sent him spiraling. He said he wasn't mad, but he has a way of saying that instead of letting me apologize for things and now he won't answer me and I'm afraid he's actually mad or-”

“Breathe,” Eddie interrupted, patting Buck on the shoulder. “I haven't heard from him. Honestly, though, if he told you about Thunderbolt, he's probably not doing great right now.”

Buck flopped down onto one of the benches, his legs stretching out in front of him. “I really screwed up, Eddie.”

“I'm the king of screw ups, Man,” Eddie replied, sitting beside him. “You haven't done anything that can't be fixed. For what it's worth, he was always planning on telling you. It's just a tough one for him to talk about without spiraling.”

Buck glared over at him. “You're really not helping.”

“You've got a twelve today too, right?”

Buck nodded.

“I'll text him, see if he answers. You head over after work. It'll work out. Don't worry.”

*****

Worry was all Buck did the entire day. Especially after Eddie sent his third text and got no response. Even he thought it was strange, which made Buck worry even more.

He couldn't get to Tommy's fast enough after his shift. He hurried over, not hesitating to use his key to get inside.

“Tommy?” he called out apprehensively. “Are you here?”

He knew Tommy had to be there. His car was in the driveway and he always left his door unlocked when he went for a run, much to Buck's dismay.

He headed for the living room first, then the kitchen.

“Tommy?” he called again before heading to the bedroom.

No lights were on in the house, and the sun had nearly set, making it difficult to see. When he pushed open the cracked bedroom door, he could barely see the outline of Tommy lying in bed, covers pulled up to his neck. His blackout curtains were drawn, making the room nearly pitch black.

Buck entered the room cautiously. “Tommy, y- you awake?”

“Mmm,” he grunted. “Yeah.”

“I've been worried,” he said, toeing off his shoes before crawling onto the bed. “I tried calling and texting. Eddie did too.”

“Haven't been by my phone,” Tommy mumbled into his pillow.

Buck settled into his usual side of the bed, keeping some space between them. “Is this... Is this about our fight? I really am sorry for pushing you, Tommy.”

“Not mad,” he replied, managing to roll over and curl into Buck's side. “Told you I wasn't mad yesterday.”

“It... It's been two days, Babe.”

He rested a hand over Buck's stomach, gripping the material of his shirt. “Oh. Really?”

“Yeah.” Buck wrapped an arm around Tommy's back, letting his nails scratch up and down his spine. “I- Tommy, what's going on?”

“Tired.” He nestled his head further into Buck's waist. “Brain was thinking too much.”

“Oh.” Buck didn't know what to say. Didn't know the right words to make him feel better. He'd never seen Tommy like this before. It made him feel overwhelmed, and sad, and a little bit terrified. “You wanna talk about it?”

Tommy gripped even tighter. He was silent for a moment, breathing against Buck's body before he spoke quietly. “I killed people, Evan.”

God, Buck wanted to cry. “I- I know.”

“A whole family. Kids. I did that.”

“You didn't know, Tommy. It's not your fault.”

“That doesn't matter to them. They don't get to have a life because of me.”

Buck wanted to hold onto Tommy tighter, pull him all the way into his arms and hold him until the pain would go away.

But Tommy withdrew before Buck could even get his other arm around him. He turned back onto his other side, pulling the covers up until just his eyes and nose stuck out from under them. “I'm just tired, Hon. I'll be okay.”

*****

The next thing Tommy knew, he was being shook awake. The room was still dark, and he was pretty sure not much time had passed. “What? What time's it?”

“A little after eight,” Buck whispered, giving his shoulder another shake. “Get up, please.”

Tommy sighed. “Why? M'tired.”

“Because you have company.”

“I do?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Can you tell them to leave, Evan?”

“No. Get up.”

Tommy groaned, but forced himself to get out of bed. He took the hand Buck had held out for him, and let himself be led to the living room.

“Hey,” Eddie said from his spot on the couch. “You look like crap.”

“Eddie?” Tommy glanced back and forth between him and Buck. “What are you doing here?”

“Your boyfriend here called me and said you could use a friend.”

Buck gave Tommy's hand a squeeze to get his attention. “You're right,” he said. “I don't know the right thing to do or say to make you feel better. But I think he can.”

“Evan, I-”

Buck brought a hand to Tommy's face, brushing a thumb over his cheek. He leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips. “I love you, Tommy, okay? All of you.”

“I don't know what to say, Evan.”

“Say pizza's on the way,” Eddie interrupted. “I'm starving.”

Buck laughed, rolling his eyes as he turned back to Eddie. “Pizza is on the way. I'm gonna head out to the gym for a couple hours.”

He went to let go of Tommy's hand, but Tommy pulled him back in for a hug. “Come back after?” he asked, his mouth brushing against Buck's ear.

Buck nodded. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Tommy pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Evan. I love you.”

Buck smiled, giving Tommy's hand a final squeeze before letting go. “See you two later. Save me a piece of pizza.”

“We'll see!” Eddie yelled out as Buck headed out the front door. He nodded at Tommy, who was still standing in the middle of the living room. “So, you ready to talk?”

Tommy only briefly hesitated before he walked over and sat on the opposite end of the couch, curling his knees up to his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, let's talk.”

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Rogue!Reader (2)

ᯓ★ angst, fluff, typical the boys content, Butcher is an asshole?!?! (what a surprise) 😲. Reader is fem!! Here's part 1 if you missed it. (Didn't proof read because im sick again 🤒)

Sounds of muffled talking... needles poking through your skin... your mind fogged from the effects of the drugs... the heavy feeling of helplessness as you were tied down. Nothing you could do. You were hopeless. You didn't stand a chance.... Slowly you squint your eyes open as the vision of your friend's corpse comes to view. The horrifying sight jerking your body awake.

"Oh...oh..." You breath heavily with your body covered in cold sweat. The adrenaline coursing through your veins. You looked around to make sure you weren't inside your cage, but rather inside the room your brother had given to you.

When you were sure you were safe, you let out a relieved sigh as you rub your eyes, giving yourself a moment to settle down. Something tells you this won't be the last nightmare you'll have. Once you were sure you were in a stable condition, you got out of bed and decided to head downstairs to what seemed to be their office.

After last night when you were taken to their headquarters, Butcher offered you some clothes to change into and also making sure you were well fed. From how exhausted you were at the time, you could only remember talking about something to Butcher before passing out on his bed.

As you descend from the stairs, you couldn't help but peek your head to look at who were present. Even though they were told to be his friends. You yourself weren't that 100% willing to trust a bunch of strangers just because he said they were 'not the worst people he's met'. To your surprise it was just three people inside and they were each doing their things.

Butcher wasn't anywhere in sight.

This sucks.

Since you aren't planning to stand and wait at the stairway, you entered the office, it only took a few steps for your presence to be noticed. You sat on the sofa just a few feet from the girl who appeared to be busy writing in her book. She shoots you a warm smile which you hesitantly smiled back.

"I'm (Y/N)... what's your name?" You asked but she suddenly shifts her eyes from you to someone else. Curious, you looked over the sofa to see someone already approaching you.

"Her name's Kimiko..." He said as he takes a seat beside you.

"You still remember my name yes? I was the one who snuck you out" You thought for a second before finally recognising him.

"Frenchie right?" You asked and judging from the smile on his face. You must be right.

"I didn't get to say but thanks for rescuing me" You said to which he laughs.

"Ahh...! Don't thank me! Your brother would have skinned me alive if I refused. If you had seen his outrage when he found out Homelander had you involved, you'd think twice before pissing him off by saying no" He recalled, emphasising everything he says through his hand gestures and facial expressions.

"He does have a temper..." You uttered.

Just then the door opens and all four of you turned to see Butcher walking in with another guy. You got to your feet and went over to your brother who after taking off his coat, hands you the takeaway he had bought.

"Here ya go sis. I figured durin' your days as a lab rat you probably ate like one" He said as you realise he had bought you your favourite food.

The simple gesture somehow making you feel like a kid again. The simpler times where you felt stress free. Just sleep and eat. Though you didn't dwell too much into the feeling as the feeling of hunger soon made you quickly sit down and started eating. Butcher eyes you for a second before walking off to talk to his friend about something that you could care less about.

Mm... good food...

You were too focused gobbling down the food in front of you that you failed to notice the guy sitting on the chair before you. He watches you consciously as you ate like you never eaten in ages. It was when you began to choke that he panicked and quickly pushed the cup of water towards you. His hands retreating back to his lap to avoid any contact with your skin.

As you gulp down the water and finally waited for the burn in your chest to vanish was when you realised you had been eating like a wolf. Months of being locked up by Homelander felt like a physiological torture that you seemed to have lost all your self control. You really lost touch with humanity. It makes you hate him even more for what he did.

"Hey um... you holding up alright? We haven't properly met. I'm Hughie" He said once he sees you zoning out. You look at him with your brows slightly raised.

His voice was somehow soothing. Like the feeling of a fever dream.

"I'm (Y/N)"

"I know" He smiles slightly at you, almost like he's fascinated by your presence.

"So you're his sister. I didn't even think he had any family. He was always private about his life"

"So am I. I guess it runs in the family..."

Your harmless joke making him chuckle softly. As you go back to eating in a more slower pace, he couldn't help but watch your every movement. It was like watching a kid eating for the first time. When they had saved you, you were almost all bones. Your hands are trembling even now just from holding the spoon.

Just even thinking of that night, what still intrigued him was even after those months of torture you still had the energy to argue with your brother. It was there where he finally understood how you were both related. You were just as much as a fighter as your brother is.

"Ahh motherfucker" You cursed as you fan at the fly to get away from your food though the second it touches your skin, it instantly drops dead on the table.

The two of you stared at it as it twitches slightly before going limp.

Problem... solved?

"I assume that you did that on demand?"

"I... think so?"

Just when you thought things were ever gonna be back to normal, your powers always had to remind you of the true reality. The reality that you are NOT normal. Since you were curious of your new abilities, you reached out and touched the flower pot just placed in the center of the table.

Just one touch of your finger on the leaves. The plant slowly devolves from a lively colour to a rotting brown. The flower withers as the stem grows weak. Due to the lack of stability, it collapses completely. Somehow the sight of the dead plant made your throat dry. Images of your friend's corpse flashing in your mind.

Hughie took notice of your dilated eyes and decided to take the plant off the table, placing it carefully on the ground to make sure it's out of your sight. You could only take long breaths as you tried to get rid of the terrible image. Gosh... you can't even imagine how her family is dealing with this... or if they even know she's... sigh..

"Oi!" The sound of Butcher's call causing you two to look at him. When he waves at you to head over to him, you shoot Hughie an apologetic look as you got up to see what he's calling you for.

"You know you don't have to call me over like a dog, I have a name"

"Oh really? Your character hardly screams 'man's best friend', especially with that pissy look" He teases you with a slight smirk which you simply ignored.

"What is it?"

He stares at you, taking note of your expressionless face before nodding to himself. His whole demeanour becoming serious within seconds.

"It's about your powers" He said, his words catching your full focus in an instant.

"From what we've known... the only possibility for a non-supe person to have powers is to dose themselves with a modified version of compound v. But that's only temporary, and yours... are permanent" Butcher said, his eyes avoiding yours.

"Whatever they did to you, we're gonna figure it out... so, while I do that, M.M will be supervisin' you, won't ya M?" Butcher said, looking over his friend who's hunched over his table and writing something down.

"Well if it ain't me then who else is gonna"

"I can!" Frenchie spoke up, his forwardness catching everyone's attention. Once he realises the looks he was getting, he awkwardly smiles.

"You know, for research" He adds. You sigh as you close your eyes, turning your head to face your brother.

What are you getting yourself into at this point...

"Nothing you say quite makes sense to me. The fuck is a compound v??"

"It's what gives the supes their powers"

"What??" You narrow your brows.

"You're saying they weren't gifted?? Like, God didn't bless them and made them our saviours?? They're just a bunch of normal people high off of superpower drugs??" He grins widely at your conclusion.

"Congratulations sis, you're finally catchin' up" He said, giving you a pat on the back before walking away. You stand there, still a bit confused before going after him.

"Waitwaitwait, where are you going? You just got back a few minutes ago" You asked as he puts on his coat.

"I'm going to meet someone. Hopefully they can help me with your situation, or at least provide some insight on what Homelander did to you"

Homelander.

Just the mention of his name being said by someone made your blood boil.

You wanted to tear him apart.

"Alright... but don't take too long... okay?" You look at him, almost like you were trying to beg him to stay with your eyes. You could tell it was working when you saw how his face started to relax a bit.

"Yeah..." He reaches for your head but stops midway when he realises he can't.

The sad reality of wanting to hold his own sister could cost him his own life was completely breaking him.

All the more reason to meet up with this contact to figure out a solution.

He doesn't say anything after letting his hand fall to his side. You could only stand there and watch him leave. Somehow, some part inside of you was fearful of the speech Homelander gave you was becoming true. That his goal of striking fear in Butcher by using you was slowly working.

"Hey, (Y/N). I'm gonna need you to come here" M.M said. You didn't say anything but sat on the chair he instructed you to sit on. You watch as he scribbles something on his book before eventually turning to face you.

"Alright so I wrote down some theories and I need you to work with me" He said, his instructions pretty clear. Your eyes however couldn't help but peek at what he had written down.

Does it only work when it's in contact with skin?

Is it like poision? Or does it disintegrate everything it touches?

Can it be controlled?

If it's dangerous then how dangerous can it be?

"Here, put these on" He then handed you a pair of leather gloves.

You took it and did just as he said. You couldn't help but clench your hands a couple of times to adgust to the fabric of the gloves. Somehow you felt hopeful of this plan. Just then you see him pick up a small plant and placing it on the table in front of you. He nods his head towards it, telling you to touch it.

Though you hesitated... before finally obliging.

You let your fingertips touch the leaves just as you did only a few minutes ago to the other plant. To your surprise, it didn't change colour nor grow weak. It was perfectly fine. This discovery caused you to be overjoyed to the fact you were struggling to form words. M.M simply nodded as he wrote something in his book.

"Holy shit it worked" You exclaimed and couldn't help but stare down at your gloved hands.

"Guess the only thing that can stop you from hurting someone is those gloves..." He turns to face you once again. The smile on your face slightly drops at the mention of hurting someone.

"Guess so..." You uttered, a wave of sadness washing over the joy you were experiencing just now. This will have to be the new normal now...

"Hey, at least it's better than nothing" He said, giving you a comforting pat on the arm. You look at him with a grateful smile, acknowledging his optimistic view of the outcome.

For the next few days you were able to conduct several experiments with the boys. Ranging from testing out your strength to trying to read minds. There were definitely some very odd ideas they've come up with but neither of them wanted to leave out anything so they had to think of all the possibilities of what you could do. Although you were still uneasy about this new change, you felt reassured after knowing more about your powers. In a way you like to think that you had more control over yourself.

It was now Sunday, you were in their office resting on the sofa. Compared to your first day here, you could tell by your own body language that you were beginning to grow comfortable around the group. As you watched whatever was on the TV, you overheard a conversation going on between Butcher and M.M nearby. However judging by their tone it seemed to be about something serious.

"Seriously Butcher? You want to get him involved?" M.M said, displeased with something.

"Nobody knows this better than he does and I'm runnin' out of options"

"Options or patience Butcher, do you have any idea what he's done? If you ever so blink, he will put a bullet right between your eyes"

"Well then, you can rest assure that I'll keep my eyes wide open for any bullets" Butcher's stubbornness earning an annoyed grunt out of M.M.

"Relax mate... I've got this. When have I ever let you and the others down, huh?" He said, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"You actually want me to answer that?"

Without saying another word, Butcher simply walked away and you, who've been secretly hearing their conversation couldn't help but take a peek of your brother. Once you see him heading to the other part of the room far from the rest, you decided to get up and approach him.

"Are you having a fun time staring at the wall?" You said, pointing out how he has his arms folded as his hand is stroking his chin. His brows perked at your words.

"You're talkin' about me?" He scoffs.

"Honestly it's better than starin at your face... what do you want?" He looks at you, a playful look on his face.

"What were you talking about with M.M just now? Sounds like it was tough"

"Oh it's nothin', he's just being dodgy about the guy I strucked a deal with"

"If I heard it right, he also said he's slick enough to put a bullet through your head" You lift your gloved hand up to point at his forehead which he simply brush your hand away from his face.

"I've got my share of bullet wounds, I'll survive"

"Not through the skull though"

"How ironic, you've always did call me hard-headed sis" Just as he said that, he started to walk off like he always does when he feels himself being lectured by you, or anyone. That's why you stood in his way when he was just a few feet from the door.

"Where are you going?"

"What makes you think I'd tell you?"

"Okay, fine, don't tell me, just take me with you" He stares at you, unsure of what you were trying to do.

"No way in hell am I bringing you outside"

"If that's your concern then I can wear a disguise. Nobody will know it's me"

"Nobody is not my concern, my concern is you. What if you accidentally let a bit of your skin show and you, oh I don't know, turn a pedestrian into a fucking mummified corpse"

"What the fuck are you crying about? I can wear layers! C'mon, anything to get out of this cooped up place for once"

"You're complaining about this being cooped up? Tell me, would you rather spend a year here or that lab?"

"Hey fuck you! That is not what I meant! I just wanted to go outside!"

"Alright alright! Would you two quit it before you tear my ears off" M.M said, having to be the one to end the bickering.

"I was just about to leave anyways" Butcher didn't even look you in the eye and walked past you. His attitude was making you angrier than ever.

You just wanted to shout and throw things around. This is just like your argument with him regarding his path of going down a life of committing crimes against supes. He always never chooses to take you seriously. Yet even after years where you'd think the consequences of his actions would shape his character a bit, it sure as hell didn't, instead it just gave him a sloppy kiss on the face. You went upstairs into your bedroom and just as you open the door, you found Hughie inside. Awkward, he quickly stands from where he was crouching.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"Oh uh sorry I was looking for the tools Frenchie asked for, he said it was in Butcher's room... which... is... your room now..." He clears his throat as he avoids your gaze.

"Is it the yellow box with the 'Do not touch' note on it?"

"Y-Yeah how do you—?" Without even letting him finish, you were already heading over to your bed to get it out from underneath it. You hand it to him and he takes it with a surprised look. The heavy weight causing his body to drop a bit but he quickly recovers from it.

"I guess I'll go... thanks" He said but you had your back turned to him as you went to sit down on your bed, clearly indicating you weren't in the best mood. He walks to the door, though he doesn't leave. After hesitating, he turns around to face your back once again.

"You okay?" He calls out. His question leaving you feeling even more conflicted.

"Just Butcher" You replied.

Oh.

Somehow that simple answer clears it up. He may not have worked with him the longest but he's worked long enough to know that the man can be such a pain in the ass. Pretty much a day with the man is enough to get a clear picture of his personality. What didn't make it any better was the difference in their beliefs about the supes.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Hughie asks. You stared down at your hands that are scratching at your nails. You do wanna talk about it but you're not sure anyone would listen to you, like actually understand how you felt.

"Are you gonna judge me?" You asked.

"Judge you? Why would I do that?"

"Well... would you be concern if I told you I'm debating whether or not if I should punch him the next time I see him?" You looked at him, searching for his reaction.

"... would it make you feel better if I told you I once had?" He said and the image of someone like Hughie punching Butcher made you chuckle a bit to yourself.

"I find that very hard to believe... but did it at least feel good?" You look at him and you could see him slowly inviting himself into the room as the conversation continued on.

"It did. For a while..." Soon he sat himself beside you on the bed.

"I don’t wanna seem like I'm intruding but why is it that you guys are always at each other's throats... I mean, he really seems to care about you so shouldn't you two get along well?"

"Psssh... he doesn't care about me"

"Errr, if he didn't he wouldn't have gone out of his way to save you from Homelander. He even sent me to spy on you when you were at work once. It was kinda—"

"Huh?" You interrupt him and your reaction had him hold his tongue.

"Spy on me? When was that?" He stares at you, batting his lashes at you blankly a few times.

"Uh I thought Butcher told you... I was the customer who asked to go to the restroom. Remember? The one with the jacket on?" He said but you were having a hard time recalling the exact memory. Your mind still a bit fuzzy from everything that happened before the kidnapping.

"I don't know... but I can't believe he would do that. Spying on me?" You said and once again the anger that was slowly dying down was now going back up.

"He was worried about you"

"If he was worried about me then he would talk to me face to face, not send one of his friends while he hid away like a coward"

"Maybe he was trying to find the right time?" You suddenly turn your head to look at him.

"Why are you making so much excuses for him??" You called him out since you figured from some of the things he told you, he probably hated him just as much as you did.

"I don't know... maybe it was that night when you guys hugged that... kinda changed my mind about him a bit... it's hard to explain but a different side of him showed. After you went to sleep, he stayed up the entire night in the office figuring out how to help you. I did try to get him to sleep but he just started cursing at me to fuck off" He said, recalling the night.

Just thinking of your brother going through computers and documents trying to find the reason behind your manifestation of powers made your heart melt a bit. You can only imagine the hours of sleep he missed, not that he even gets enough sleep but all that hours he could be using to rest and instead using it to solve your issue was nice yet sad to know. Too bad it lead him to doing business with some shady person you don't even know about. All because he wanted to help you.

"So I'm pretty sure that yeah, he does cares about you..." You stare at him, somehow amused at his way of talking things out with you.

"You really went all out trying to prove a point huh?" You said to which he laughed.

"Force of habit maybe? Anyways, I better go, Frenchie needs his tools and you look like you need some rest" He got up and began heading towards the door again but before leaving, he stops to look at you.

"Hopefully you guys work it out. He's been through a lot and I think having his family close by might keep him... human" He added. You take his words into consideration as he finally goes.

....

"Why'd you let that happen to me?" She yelled through her tears, grabbing at your shoulders as if she needed support from her limping body.

......

"You dragged me into this mess!!" Her nails were so sharp you felt like it was digging through your skin.

.............

"You killed me!! You were my friend!! You fucking bitch!!!" You couldn't breath. You felt like you were floating in an endless void.

...................

"Rot with me" She uttered. You scream as thousands of hands began grabbing at every corner of your body. The countless amount of nails on your skin sent shivers down your body. You try to scream for help but its as though your voice was stuck in your throat as no sound comes out.

........................

"NO!! STOP!!" You shout as you awake on your bed. Your screams were loud enough that it caused the door to swing open.

Your brother quickly sat himself on the bed, being careful to wrap you in the blanket before holding you close in his arms. Though your mind was too focused on the nightmare to even know who it was that was holding you. Her whisper like voice, her skeleton face, and fuck... the feeling of the thousand of nails poking your skin haunted you even more. It was so real.

"Sis... hey...! You're safe. You're here with me. No one's goin' to hurt you" He said, his voice being the thing to bring you back to the present. Your breathing somehow steadies after scanning the room to double take.

You really are safe.

"Shit.. sorry..." You could only say as your brother rubs his hand behind your back. The sight of your pale face grew concern.

"You wanna talk about what's got you screamin' in your sleep?" He asks and you let out a half embarrassed sigh. Hopefully you weren't that loud.

"I don't think I'm ready for that..." You said since what you wanted to do now was forget it.

"Aight..." He nods and continues on rubbing your back to provide some comfort. He's not big with words so this is the most he can do...

The room remained silent while you enjoyed the peace you got from his presence. When you felt yourself finally able to think rationally, you can't help but think of what Hughie told you. Working things out... To be clear, talking about your feelings with your family, let alone your sibling ain't easy as it seemed. But seeing the things you and him have gone through, that seems like the best option right now.

"Can I ask you something?" You look up at him and he looks down at you, you could tell he was worried about what you might say, yet he nods.

"Go ahead"

"... what happened after I left... like how did it lead to this? To... how you are now...?" You asked and it caused him to look away with a defeated grunt. As though he saw the question coming from a mile away.

"Theres not much to say... I fought... and I did what I had to do to survive... I wish I could tell you I was a good person for it but... I'd be lying, you wouldn't look at me now if I told you half the things I've done" He answers with his hand placed on your arm. You frown.

"It feels as though you're treating me that way already. You're my brother but sometimes you treat me like I'm just a package to you. That's what your job is about right? Whatever this job is..."

"That's not true sis..."

"Then why does your face tell another story?" You said and your words made him furrowed his brows even more. He stares at you, as if he's considering something in his mind.

"... you won't understand it"

"What don't I understand? We're family right? Blood is thicker than water. That sort of bullshit. We've been through hell together as kids. Having to take abuse from our shitty parents... then losing Lenny..." The mention of his deceased brother pained him even more that he was struggling to maintain eye contact at this point.

"Don't push me away... not again..." You pleaded while placing your other hand on top of his arm. He stayed quiet... almost too long that you were beginning to think he was gonna choose the quiet route out of the conversation until he finally opened his mouth to speak.

"How do I even start... I was furious when I found out Homelander got you involved in our fued.. but then through that rage, I also thought... what if I never went on pissing off a bunch of supes for my selfish reasons? It could have prevented how it led to this. To how he found you" Butcher began to say and you could just hear the guilt in his voice as he began confessing to you about his feelings.

"I regret some choices and some not so much... sometimes I wonder if I should've listen to you and visited that therapist you suggested. I still have the card in my wallet... but I also thought the road was too blurry to head back. I've already got too much blood on my hands, enough to fill a whole sea..." He pauses, then letting out a shaky breath.

"But if I'm being honest with you, my biggest regret would be puttin' you in any danger. Now I can't even look at you without being reminded of my mistakes... that's why it was better that you hated me instead, because it's not fair for you to forgive me after all that"

All his talking about himself was painful to even hear. Let alone the sad and defeated expression on his face. This was the most vulnerable he has ever shown himself to you. The big brother you always thought to be this indestructible force was now bawling out his emotions to you. Oddly enough, you felt glad to see him open himself up to you. This was a new start... when he became quiet, you decided to speak.

"I get why you'd think that but... didn't you tell me it was useless to dwell on things you know is irreversible? Yeah sure, I did have bad stuffs happen to me but you also helped me out of it"

"Bad things which you wouldn't be in if it weren't for me" He was quick to add when you paused but you were fast to respond.

"I know I know but... my point is... some good came out of it... and we can't change the past so we might as well control what comes next. You know... shape our destiny..." You said, feeling awkward as he stares at you a bit too hard but suddenly out of nowhere he snorts into laughter.

"What! Why are you laughing about?" You were confused at his reaction because you weren't sure if he was genuinely humoured or losing his sanity.

"I didn't know you were into that cheesy Shakespeare shit. Where'd you read that one from? The library?" He wheezes and you roll your eyes from his teasing. He can never take you seriously.

"Did you even hear what I said?" You said and from his body shifting a bit was when you realise your feet has been pressed against his leg the entire time you've both spoken. The heavy weight of the blanket must have made it harder to feel.

Even though your skin is touching his, he doesn't seem to be rotting or anything. Rather, he's still laughing at your talk just now. When he finally stops is when you point out your discovery to him. By the time he sees it, he's fast to pull his leg from contact of your skin as to not play with his luck.

"Well shit... what do you make of that?" Butcher looks at you after pretty much leaping up to his feet.

"Then it means that my powers could be controlled?? How is the question..." You said but Butcher seemed to have lose interest on that as another thing is already on his mind.

"So you don't blame me... after everything?" He asked and you look at him, your body frozen with your hand was in the process of lifting up your feet just now to get a close inspection.

"No... but if you keep pissing me off with your attitude I might start hating you" You said after finally leaving your feet alone. He chuckles lowly.

"You're not the brightest person I know" He said but there was a smile on his face. A happy one to be precise.

"That's because I'm related to you, fucker" You joked back.

Eventually after you two seemed to resolve the tension between you both, you manage to go back to sleep with Butcher willing to watch over you by sitting beside you on the bed, but it didn't take long for him to fall asleep, which trying to be as discreet as possible, you were able to catch a peek of. Since you didn't want him to freeze, you place the extra blanket onto him. After all, maybe he's not that much of an asshole.

TAGS

@demodemo909 @naniky @1infp1

[writingfromasgard]

Manspreading [John Price - 1]

AN: Okay, its me, really. I'm SO SO SO sorry. I was deleting an unused RP blog and ended up deleting my actual account.. This isn't someone stealing! I would love if you could reblog that way i can follow all the amazing people i did before.

[Masterlist] || Requests are Open

John Price manspreading at your home on your couch after a heavy meal, letting his head tilt back with a satisfied sigh. If only you’d let him smoke inside, he’d been completely content.

He doesn’t even notice you creeping between his spread legs, putting a pillow under your knees before you rest your cheek against one of his thighs.

When he glances down, a smile spreads across his lips. “What’s this?” He already knows as you grin up at him. You give his thigh a little kiss then work off his shoes, massaging his calves.

He leans his head back again, arms thrown over the back of the couch. When you reach his thighs, he gets twitchy. You can feel his muscles tense under your hands. Even his stomach seems to tense, when you reach for his belt.

You know those hands that are trying to idly stroke the seam of the couch are going to be tugging your hair, pushing your head down soon enough. You undo his belt, dragging his pants down because you want to see all of him.

He peels off his shirt because he knows you’ll reach for that next. The sigh that leaves your lips makes him smile, your fingers digging into his thighs.

“Go a'ead.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice before you’re kissing the base of his half-hard cock. Tongue lapping at it while your thumb rubs the slit. His groan encourages you to slobber all over his cock as it grows.

You never enjoyed blowjobs much – other guys were too quiet, too pushy, too impatient. John changed that with his deep groans, praises. He let you explore with your hands, mouth or tongue.

Your tongue licked the underside of his cock, tracing the ridge of it. Salty precum dribbles out of the tip. You can’t resist taking him in your mouth.

John lifts his hips up, stomach muscles clenching. “Take it easy, doll. Don’t want to hurt that pretty throat of yours. Won’t be able to hear you later if you do.”

Your eyes flutter at his words as you work your mouth down his fat cock slowly. He pets your head when his pubes tickle your nose. You stay there, getting used to the shape and weight of him inside your mouth.

When you do start moving with hollowed cheeks, he’s groaning loudly. He’s gentle about guiding you to move quicker, a little push that you can choose to ignore.

It’s when your own drool is dripping down your chin, mixed with precum that you finally give in. His hand delves into your hair when you start moving faster, his groans getting louder.

His hips raise up the closer he gets, thigh muscles flexing under your palms. You’re sure the mixture of fluid is dripping down his balls, leaving a wet spot on your couch again.

His praise falters, there’s no sweet words when he’s too close his mind can’t think of anything but how your throat is welcoming the tip of his cock. His stomach tightens and he holds you still, crushing your nose against his pelvis as he empties himself into your sweet mouth.

His heavy breath matches your own when he releases you but he still drags you up to kiss, not minding the taste of himself a bit. He settles you in his lap, kissing your throat.

“Dinner and a show for me? Doll, you’re spoiling me.”

[coqxettee]

THAT girl Night Routine

I haven’t blogged in forever, and for that I’m truly sorry (I was in a blogging rut and just genuinely had no idea or motivation to post anything, so I’m kinda writing this not only for myself but for any of the girlies out there trying to get a structured night routine for the coming summer ༓ ☾.｡*ﾟ+.

Start your “Night Routine” at a certain time - Now the evenings are staying lighter, this can be difficult, but I’d say starting at 6:00PM or 7:00PM is a good starting time. Ideally start it after you have had your last meal of the day. Let this be the time of the day that you are going to begin to switch off and get ready to relax ♡

If you like to stretch or do yoga in the evening , do this and then do your skincare and have a shower afterwards, even if it is a quick one. It will make you feel so much more fresh and clean when you put your pyjamas on ♡

Shower - I know some girlies prefer to shower in the morning which is totally okay! And some girls shower twice a day (but of course this isn’t practical for everyone) - If you do choose to shower of an evening, make sure to use calming products. Products with lavender in, essential oils etc can also be really good because lavender has calming properties in it. Moisturise, and if your feeling extra, spray a few spritz of perfume. (I know it sounds crazy but Marilyn Monroe used to do this before bed!) If you are planning on doing a nice hairstyle the next day, prep your hair. Put your overnight curlers in or rollers ♡

Get changed into Pyjamas - *Important* make sure you are picking girly, cozy pyjamas to wear. Feeling luxury even when your just relaxing makes the biggest difference without you realising. Instead of wearing a huge baggy shirt and shorts, wear something satin or linen, something with florals or a pretty pink dressing gown. Soft materials and light pastel colours. Victoria’s Secret have some beautiful pyjamas (I love the striped one’s) and pretty satin robes too. There’s no better feeling than getting out the shower and putting on fresh pyjamas for the evening. A cute fluffy pair of slippers or socks is perfect too ♡

Take off your makeup and do your skincare - *So important* Don’t ever go to bed with makeup on and don’t ever skip your skincare routine. I know (trust me) how tempting it can be to just go straight to bed, but your skin with thank you in the long run and so will you when you wake up in the morning. Spend time with your skincare and try not to think of it as a *chore*. It’s taking care of yourself! So cherish that ♡

Set the evening mood - Tidy your room once more (so your not waking up to a cluttered space), light a candle, switch on fairy-lights. Do whatever you need to, to make your room or space around you more cozy. Main lights in the evening are a no-go. They wake you up and don’t let your eyes or body relax. Soft lighting is key, maybe spritz your room with a relaxing lavender room spray, get your bed ready too. Fluff the pillows, spray pillow mist, set back the covers, do whatever you need to do to let your body and mind know that your getting ready to settle in for the night ♡

Limit screen time - If you are going to go on your phone/technology before bed, make sure the media you are so consuming is light and makes you feel comforted. Do not watch anything too deep that will play on your sub-conscious mind. Girly videos or vlogs are lovely to watch because they put you in such a lovely mood. I know how tempting it can be to be on your phone right up until the last minute when your eyes close. Some of us even believe we HAVE to be on our phones or be watching something, in order to get to sleep. Whilst this may be true for some people, if this is the case for you, just try one evening going to sleep without looking at a screen. I try to limit screen time 2 hours before bed, and don’t look at my phone 45 minutes before sleeping ♡

Journal/reflect/plan - Evening’s are a perfect time to journal about your day in your diary, write out some journal prompts and make your to-do list for the next day. To be an organised girly you have to know what the next day is going to bring, so making a to-do list so you can make the most of your time is key to a successful and productive day ♡

Meditate - I know meditation is not for everyone, but I myself try to meditate once every day, and the lasting effect it can have on your mental health is so impactful and really a beautiful thing. It helps us rationalise things, put our brains to sleep and sets us in a calm and tranquil state for the evening ♡

Make a warm drink - We give babies warm milk to help them sleep and with us, it’s not really that different. milk does contain tryptophan – an amino acid which is thought to help promote feelings of sleepiness. If you don’t like milk, try chamomile/lavender tea or a hot chocolate. Something comforting that will warm you from the inside out and help with drowsiness before sleep.

Read - Hot girls read. That is a fact. But reading is not only beneficial for one’s intellect but it is such a calming and relaxed act, especially when you have a beautiful book you can escape into right before sleeping. Make sure the book you choose is once again light-hearted and is going to be something that makes you feel happy and cozy before you switch your brain off to sleep ♡

Sleep - The most important part of this routine and the reason why you have taken so much care with your evening routine. Gorgeous, gorgeous girlies get at LEAST 7-9 hours sleep every night. Sleep is one of the most important things in life, and for so many reasons, but mainly - It affects everything you do. Your brain, your sub-conscious, how you feel about yourself, your appetite, your skin & eyes, your mood and your energy levels. Absolutely everything about you is affected by sleep, so make sure you get enough. Try to sleep in darkness (or with a small light if you need one) or an eye mask, don’t forget to set an alarm for the next day too ♡

Extra evening tips:

Some important things to consider ♡

Don’t eat late before going to bed! It’s not good for you! Avoid coffee or things with sugar in as these will give your energy instead of helping you to wind down ♡

Satin bedsheets/pillow cases are perfect for protecting your skin and hair. They allow your skin to breathe and protect your hair from marsh materials which helps it to grow ♡

Call a friend/text a loved one in the evening. I love with my parents so I always spend time with my mum before going to bed, but it’s a lovely thing to check on someone before setting in for the evening ♡

Whilst limiting screen time is important, watching one episode of a comfort series or show can help you feel so happy and comforted ♡

Whilst your going about your evening routine, listen to soft girly music. Or classical music if you want more of classic vibe to your night ♡

Listen to subliminal’s overnight!! *Important* and I feel like most of us forget to. But there are so many you can listen to just overnight, and the results will be so worth it ♡

[junkissed]

wait

member — joshua x gn reader genre — fluff, comfort (18+) word count — 1.1k synopsis — sometimes you just need to take second to wait.  warnings — allusions to past/future sex but no sex happens in this fic, implied that shua is more dom and reader is more sub, this is literally just pure aftercare notes — i never feel like i put enough aftercare into my fics because i'm usually drained by the end of writing and i just want to finish it and hit post so this is kinda to make up for that. also i'm really particular about the way aftercare is written and i feel like i never see the kind i want to read so honestly this is just a super self-indulgent fic, because if you can't find it then write it yourself or whatever toni morrison said, but i hope you can enjoy this too :) i haven't proofread this since 3am so if there's mistakes pls ignore! also this is not based on the song wait by dino as you might have assumed i just thought it was a fitting title because we all need a reminder to just slow down and wait

"wait, wait... wait!"

joshua starts to stand up off the bed, but hesitates when you call out suddenly. "what's wrong, sweetheart?" he asks quietly, eyes carefully watching your face, searching for signs and trying to figure out what you need.

"don't leave yet," you say softly, your fingers wrapping loosely around his wrist. "don't want you to go.”

he rubs his hand over the back of your palm. "just gonna get you a glass of water,” he explains but he sits back on the bed, waiting anyway.

you're exhausted and you know you both need to shower and change the sheets, but the thought of moving right now only sends you into a panic. you're overheated and sticky with sweat, but still you crave the warmth of joshua’s body next to yours, the feeling of his skin against you as close as he can possibly get.

“later?” you say the word like a statement, but your voice rises in a question. “just stay for now. please.”

there's a time and a place for everything, and joshua knows right now is not the time for rational thinking. sure, you've got twice the amount of laundry to do later and your mouth feels drier than a desert, but that can wait. it can always wait, for joshua. it can wait because right now you need to feel the grounding weight of him beside you, telling you he'll always be there, especially when you need him most. 

even though it's what he immediately wants to do, no amount of sweat-stained sheets could ever come before you in his mind. even though he knows you're thirsty and probably craving a cold shower and he wants nothing more than to jump up and take care of your every wish, that's not always what's best. yes, what you need is fresh laundry, but what you want is him. 

so he settles back in on top of the bed, easily sliding into place beside you without a second thought. because it's always about you. always has been.

"better?" he asks, his finger gently brushing your cheek in slow, repetitive motions. 

you exhale and lean into him, letting your eyes fall shut as you hum in reply. 

the gentleness of his touch is such a stark contrast from how he'd been handling you not even 15 minutes ago, but you can't help but love both sides of him. gone is the hair pulling, the slapping and biting, replaced with soft brushes of your hair and careful caresses of your skin over each of the marks he'd left in the heat of the moment.

really, it's joshua's favorite part, besides the fact that he gets the honor of fucking you and being the one to bring you pleasure. it's the part afterwards that he looks forward to, when you're at your most vulnerable and both still riding an emotional high, when he gets to build you back up after so meticulously taking you apart. it's the trust in him that you show without ever so much as saying a word, the sense of safety and comfort washing over you that only ever comes from the feeling of being held in his arms.

the air seems to hang silently around you, as if even the universe can sense that this is a moment that shouldn't be interrupted, your own little bubble together that exists outside of space and time.

you just need a second to collect yourself, and seconds turns to minutes turns to half an hour before you can fully feel like yourself again. sometimes it's minutes and sometimes it's longer, but he'll wait as long as it takes.

you slowly open your eyes and inhale, lips warming into a smile as you see joshua is still here, still cradling your head against his chest, and that this all wasn't just a pleasant dream. you can always rely on him that when you open your eyes, he'll be there waiting for you. no matter how long you need to rest, he's always there when you're ready.

your thumb brushes over his arm, and he rests his cheek against the top of your head. “okay now?” he asks. “or do you just wanna leave it and go to bed?”

as tired as you are and as comfortable as his body feels, the intense feelings have subsided a little and you've regained enough of your energy to realize that what you need most right now is a shower and a glass of water.

so joshua slips off the bed, but not without leaving you with another sweet kiss because why wouldn't he? and you let him leave without a word of protest, because you don't feel that crushing feeling in your chest anymore of being left alone when you really need someone to hug, so you just wait patiently for him to return.

he comes back not much later with cool, fresh water in your favorite cup, and he sits beside you as you drink with his hand on your thigh because now it's his turn to be cared for, and the way he feels cared for is knowing you feel good and knowing he's doing a good job at making you feel loved. and you know that he needs this time just as much as you do so you savor the seconds spent here, letting the water wash down your throat until you both feel refreshed.

“thank you,” you tell him as you sit atop the sink, watching as he sticks his hand under the faucet to see if the shower is the right temperature yet. the bed’s already been stripped of its sheets and a fresh stack of towels been laid out, one by one ticking things off joshua's mental checklist. it's a routine, one that isn't always this thorough every single night but always equal in the amount of care and love he puts in each step.

and eventually things will return to normal, and you'll wake up the next morning filled with nothing but adoration for the man still sleeping peacefully next to you, and then you'll go about your days and come home in the evening and still be so much in love with him that you do it all again. maybe it goes differently next time, faster or shorter or less intense and you don't need to wait like you did tonight.

but sometimes you need a little extra time. and joshua is a patient man.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[diyasgarden]

Being Art Donaldson's girlfriend at Stanford when he is still madly in love with Tashi...

I'll never forget how stupid in love I felt / I'll always regret how I couldn't ever tell

You're head over heels for him. You met him during your first couple months at the school, and were instantly enamored. He could tell, because shortly after meeting he asked you out. Before you knew it, you were in a relationship. In retrospect maybe his eagerness to be with you should have raised concerns. Maybe it should have indicated he was trying to push someone else out of his mind. You never realized it during that time. You were too happy to. Even years after you break up, this always makes you feel stupid. How could you have not seen?

That you walked a little faster, left me behind / Kissed me with somebody else in mind

You vividly remember the moment you met Tashi. While he had brought her up once or twice (always in passing, always about tennis), you only actually met her months after you got together. With the time clarity has given you, you realize he probably kept both of you apart on purpose. You met her by accident, running into her on campus while walking with Art. You could tell what he felt for her, from just the way he looked at her. The way he tried to be in step with her when they walked. You knew it the moment you saw them both interact. Your boyfriend was in love with Tashi Duncan. Nothing about your relationship would feel the same again.

I loved you so much / That I settled for less

You knew the truth. You knew he didn't love you. At least not in the way he loved Tashi, but did it matter? You loved him. Couldn't that be enough? That's what you told yourself for the rest of your relationship. It never felt like those first couple months anymore. His behavior hadn't changed. He still treated you the same, but with knowing what he felt for Tashi it felt hollow. You realized it wasn't enough. You stayed regardless.

Oh, you were my everything / I was your second best, mm

It's been years since then. You're older and wiser, but your heart still aches for the girl you were. A girl so in love with Art Donaldson that she didn't leave the minute she learned he was in love with someone else. It wasn't surprising when he broke up with you after her injury. By then you knew the relationship was doomed from the start. He always loved Tashi. He may have been your world, but you were just a place holder. It's been five years since then, but you still think of him. You think of the relationship and feel silly and stupid and wish you could change the past, but you know you'd do the same thing all over again. Regardless, It's no surprise when you see the news of his marriage to Tashi. It was always going to end like this anyway.

[s1m0nth3swag]

Hello, Simon! I enjoyed reading some of your recent works for Francis Mosses 🥺 is it okay to request for period comfort? keep it SFW please! I'm just in a emotional rollercoaster right now because of it and I don't see much sfw works of Francis here on Tumblr. Thank you so much in advance! 🤎

Tysm for the ask anon, so sorry it took this long!

I've been working on some personal projects recently and have had less time to write (especially since I now have to actually take care of some of my grades because some aren't looking too good.... whatever, though I'm balling through, it'll be fine)

Also, I'm so so sorry this is short because, uhm, how do I write about period comfort when all I usually do is ball through and act like the tough man I totally am (not)

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; GN!Reader but mentioned to be afab due to having Periods, established relationship but not having been together for that long, Francis is a little silly and unsure at first because that man wouldn't know what to do and I stand by that statement.

When you had woken up this morning, you had immediately known. Just that feeling of being uncomfortable, as if your body needed to make extra sure to signal you that you weren't pregnant. You groaned in annoyance, wanting to sleep for a little longer, but if you did that, you'd probably end up having to change your bedsheets, and that's the last thing you wanted to do right now. So, instead, you trotted to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend Francis was absolutely confused. You weren't the type to get up early, especially not when he was staying over. Usually, you'd snuggle up to him, wrap your arms around his waist to keep him in bed with you. He figured you maybe just needed to go to the toilet, though something seemed a little off. He didn't pay it much mind, though, simply drifting off into a state of being half asleep again. At least until you practically fell into bed, making the mattress creak. "Francis." You grumbled, moving to press your face against his neck like you'd always do when he stayed over and was still with you in the morning. "Mm?" He hummed, his hand coming up to carefully run through your hair. "Got my period." You huff, your face scrunching in annoyance. Francis is caught off guard for a moment. "At least you aren't pregnant?" He mutters, trying to lighten your mood, though that only results in having you hit his chest softly. He really doesn't know what to do. He never had to deal with this before. "What usually.. I don't know.. helps? Makes it better?" He asks. Francis has heard of buying chocolate or making a hot water bottle, though he really wants to make sure not to just assume what might be good for you. "Just stay for now, okay?" You ask, snuggling further against him.

The two of you stay cuddled up in bed for a while, with you getting into some, for Francis, very weird positions just to relieve some of the pain. He starts massaging your lower belly at some point, which makes you comfortably rest against him so he can keep going. He figures that this helped your cramps, though you aren't really a big talker right now. He's just glad you aren't getting sappy on him or worse. Francis reminds himself to stop thinking in stereotypes. You fall asleep at some point, and he has half a mind to get a blanket over the two of you while he tries not to fall asleep as well - he feels like he should be awake once you wake up. He wouldn't want to have you have to do something alone when he could be helping you.

The next few hours are mostly you being asleep and Francis drifting off just to jolt awake again. Once you wake up, Francis gets you water and, because you now specifically asked for it, made you a hot water bottle to help the cramps. You put on a movie while he was gone, some romantic one that he knew you had watched at least twice before already. Not like he minded, though. Wasn't his place to judge. He settled beside you again, making sure to carefully place the bottle on you, letting you adjust it yourself. "You alright?" He hums, resting his head against yours. "Obviously not. I'm actively bleeding, Francis." You huff, rolling your eyes playfully as you shift closer to him. "Honestly, though, as good as I could be right now." You then answer, sighing as you close your eyes to bask in your boyfriends presence.

You stay cuddled up like that, watching the movie together. Francis gets up at some point to make both of you a tea, making sure yours is a Green tea after searching for what tea helps with cramps. He's generally just very mindful of you, even offering to run to the store to get you anything you want - which in all honesty almost makes you tear up because he's just too sweet - but you just want him with you, and that's all that counts.

[dreamcatcher92]

Chapter 3: The Date

Summary: Reader falls head over heels in love with her neighbor after a bad break-up. Will he also turn out to be her knight in shining armor as well?

Warnings: smut, language, sex, alcohol use. 18+ only!

You keep checking to see what time it is, but time seems to be moving at a snail's pace right now. It is making you frustrated because you are so anxious to go out with Billy tonight. Things are racing through your mind about how this will go.

Should you eat a little something before, so you don’t look like a pig when you eat? No, because what if it upsets your stomach? Should you bring up the relationship you just got out of? No, just no!

You have about an hour left to finish getting ready. You’ve shaved literally everywhere that was needed, brushed your teeth twice for good measure, and put just a dab of makeup on. You settled on wearing a dark red quarter sleeve tunic top, paired with black leggings, and chestnut brown knee high boots. Fall was drawing near, so you wanted to dress a bit warmer just in case. 

            Now, at quarter till seven, you sit on your couch anxiously waiting for Billy.

*Ding*

            Your phone goes off with a new text message. It’s Billy! Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly open the message. 

“On my way, see you soon.”

            AAHHHH!!! Now your heart is really pounding. You do your best to calm down so that you don’t act like an absolute idiot in front of Billy. You already really like him, and you’ve only just truly met. 

            A few minutes tick by and there is a knock at your door. You squeal like a little girl and jump to your feet. You run to the door, pause to take a deep breath and fluff your hair, then open the door. 

“Hi!” you say excitedly.

Billy chuckles and smiles at you, “Ready to go?”

Smiling from ear to ear, you turn to grab your sweater and purse then turn back to face the tall, dark haired, sexy man in your doorway, “I’m ready.”

          Billy takes your hand as you two make your way down the hall to the elevator. You have so many butterflies in your stomach. You just want things to go smoothly this evening. 

          Billy takes you to a nice restaurant and lets you choose a bottle of wine to share. Nobody has ever treated you like this before. You really didn’t know how to act, but you stayed calm and did your best. 

As you two eat your meals, you engage in a conversation about several different things. You laugh at all his jokes, and he smiles as he gazes deep into your eyes. Everything is going great. 

“You really have never been on a rollercoaster before?!” you ask as you giggle and take a sip of wine.

Billy shakes his head and laughs, “No! Never really wanted too either.”

“I guess I just assumed everyone has ridden one before at some point in their lives.” you laughingly say, but the laugh was cut short when out of the corner of your eye you see a familiar face and you suddenly feel sick.

The man is staring right at you and smiles a menacing grin at you. He takes a drink from his glass and then sits it on the table. After laying some cash onto the table, he gets up and starts walking towards your table. 

You feel a huge lump in your throat and start to freak out inside. What the fuck is he doing here?! Please dear God do not come over here! The man continues toward you but passes by without saying a word. You look and feel a small sense of relief. 

Billy sees the abrupt change of expressions on your face, “Something wrong?”

You snap back to reality, “What?! Uh, y-yeah! Everything is fine!”

Billy let it go for now, but he definitely was not going to let that go. Billy is a very protective person and does not like to be lied to. He learned from a young age that he needed to know everything and be in absolute control.

Billy motions to the waiter for the check, “How about we get outta here? My place for another drink?”

Your heart flutters and you smile, “Sounds great.”

The two of you arrive at Billy’s apartment and he begins fixing you both a drink. You’re over by the window looking out at the city skyline and staring up at the stars. You try to forget about who you saw back at the restaurant but are quickly reminded about it moments later as Billy walks over with drinks in his hands.

“So, you gonna tell me who you saw back there or am I gonna have to do my own investigating?” he says with a bit of sass in his voice as he hands you your cocktail.

You take a shaky breath in and decide to be open and honest with Billy, “It was my ex’s best friend Jake.”

“I’m assuming by the look on your face that wasn’t a good thing.”

“I don’t really know honestly. I don’t even know why he would have been there.”

 “He not from here?”

“New York, yes. The city, no.”

“So why are you worried? You think he’ll do something?”

“I don’t know. My ex is, well, not a good person.”

“How so?”

You hesitate to answer because you don’t want to ruin things with Billy. Tonight was amazing and you don’t want to fuck things up by bringing up your abusive and manipulative ex-boyfriend. However, you can tell Billy is not going to stop until he gets it out of you. So, you give. 

Taking a deep breath in, you begin, “Spencer, my ex, was very abusive in every aspect of the word. He controlled everything that I did and if I did something he didn’t like, he would hit me over and over. I loved him, but I couldn’t stay anymore. The day before I left him, he beat me so badly that I thought I was going to die. Both of my eyes were black, my lip was busted, and he cracked three of my ribs. I stayed with a friend until I saved up enough money for my own place and got a restraining order against Spencer. He was arrested but made bail days later. Nothing was ever done to him because they gave him two years of probation and called it a day. I’m so sorry that I come with so much baggage, and if you never want to see or talk to me again, I will completely understand. I know it’s a lot.”

You were crying at this point and felt so ashamed. You wanted to go hide and not come out. You’ve probably just ruined every chance of being with Billy after this.

Billy looks at you for a moment, then takes your drink and sets it on the coffee table. He turns back and wraps you in his arms. You wrap your arms around his waist and look up at him with tear filled eyes. He looks back at you, then without hesitation, he presses his soft lips against yours. His tongue massages yours and you hum with delight. After a few moments, he pulls away to look at you once more. 

“I’m not going anywhere sweetheart.”

[inawickedlittletown]

Halloween Movie Night (BuckTommy) - one-shot

Summary: Tommy is not a fan of scary movies. Set pre-8x05 Words: 1k Read on Ao3 -

Tommy had never been a fan of scary movies. Something about jump scares and how the victims were always the stupidest people to ever exist. He just didn’t vibe with any of it, not especially the creepy kids. When Eddie suggested that they have a movie night a few days before Halloween, Tommy didn’t even think about what they might watch until he and Evan arrived at Eddie’s place, carrying the cupcakes they’d picked up on the way there. 

Although Tommy had only ever visited Eddie’s house twice before the whole debacle with Christopher, there was no denying that the house was missing something. Someone. After the failed virtual birthday, he could tell that things just hadn’t gotten better though Evan reported that Eddie had been managing to get more than a few words out of his son lately. 

Eddie’s house had lots of decorations up both outside and in. Tommy, who only ever really put a couple of pumpkins out and then tended to buy a big bag of candy at Costco to leave out on a bowl, was a little impressed. Halloween had just never been his thing. Clearly, it was definitely Eddie’s. 

“I bet you’re having fun with the haunted house thing,” Tommy said. 

Eddie smiled. “I got my costume ready and everything. It’s going to be fun.” 

“I think I need something more for my section,” Evan said. “Really give them a show.” 

Tommy’s mind went to the show that Evan had put on for him when he was trying on his costume, mostly the part where he was taking it off and keeping the mostly awful cowboy accent. Evan didn’t meet his eyes and Tommy smiled to himself. All of that was not helped by the knowledge that Evan had worked on a dude ranch at some point. There had been a few pictures and yeah, maybe Tommy had looked at them disrespectfully. Evan looked good back then, but he did look better now. More bulked up. More himself. 

“We can go to a Spirit Halloween or something,” Tommy said. 

“There is also that prop house near my place,” Evan said. “Maybe I’ll go and see what they have.” 

They settled into Eddie’s living room. Tommy found himself sitting next to Evan with Eddie taking the armchair. Evan shifted until he was leaning against Tommy and Tommy lifted his arm to lay over Evan’s shoulders, bringing him closer. 

The first few times they hung out with Eddie together, Tommy had felt awkward about getting too close to Evan. He’d been afraid of making Eddie uncomfortable by being too familiar with Evan. Evan had pushed past that by grabbing his hand or standing closer to him than was necessary. Eddie had rolled with it, though sometimes he’d looked a little amused. Occasionally, he threw things at them if they got a little too lost in each other. 

He was distracted by Evan fitting himself against him, enough that he didn’t realize what Eddie had put on until he glanced at the tv and heard the creepy laughter and saw the girl in the white nightgown. 

Tommy knew he’d had a reaction, because Evan lifted his head to look at him.

“Okay?” 

“Uh…yeah. Yeah.” 

It was really hard to watch. The music and the atmosphere that the movie set, it did the job of being creepy and scary and Tommy…Tommy was going to have nightmares where Freddy Krueger was chasing him and trying to kill him. When he jumped at a scary point in the movie, Evan lifted off him a bit so he could look at him. 

Evan somehow shifted them and suddenly it was Tommy leaning against him and Evan was wrapping his arms around him, mouth close to Tommy’s ears. 

“Not a fan of scary movies?” 

“Not at all.” 

“Never seen this one,” Evan admitted. 

“You haven’t seen most movies,” Tommy said back. 

“True.” 

“We can ask Eddie to change it to something else,” Evan mused. 

Tommy shook his head. “He looks like he’s enjoying it.” 

He did. Eddie had a bottle in one hand and he was just staring at the tv, not even reacting to any of the parts that Tommy could hardly even watch. He did have an easier time not watching with the way Evan had arranged them. 

“But if you’re—”

“I’ll be alright,” Tommy said. “Just a movie.” 

The next time Tommy gave a jolt, Evan kissed the side of his head and then his cheek. His fingers were in Tommy’s hair and Tommy closed his eyes and focused on Evan. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t too bad if this was the treatment that it garnered. 

He was glad when at the end of the night when they left Eddie’s, Evan insisted on Tommy staying over even though they hadn’t planned on it. Evan didn’t say it, but he had probably guessed that Tommy was not going to be able to fall asleep easily. 

“I just don’t get it,” Tommy said while they got ready for bed. 

“What?” 

“The whole watching something scary…the world is already such a big mess. I don’t need my escapism to be full of weird creepy guys trying to kill for the hell of it.” 

“No,” Evan said, “there is enough of that in the real world. I guess some people don’t appreciate rom coms like you do.” 

“Hey,” Tommy said. 

Evan laughed. 

“What’s so bad about wanting to watch a movie where you know everything ends well.” 

“Nothing,” Evan said. “Everyone has their own forms of escapism.” 

“I guess so. Should we be worried that was Eddie’s?” 

“It’s Halloween. Maybe he’s just going with the season.” 

“Well next year we’re watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. Or The Adams Family. Or Hocus Pocus. Or Casper. Or The Haunted Mansion.”

Evan grinned. “I’ll be sure to invite Jee-Yun. She’ll have a blast.” 

“You know what, if I do get nightmares, I’m not even going to feel guilty when I wake you.” 

Evan just drew him into a kiss. “I’ll protect you.” 

[mikavlcs]

Rebels and Renegades

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: Becoming best friends with a sentient hand brings many much-needed changes to your life, the biggest being the very girl he arrived at Nevermore with.

Warnings: this is so stupid, reader is incredibly unserious, many attempts at comedy, TERRIBLE pacing, bad writing, cursing, this doesn’t correlate properly with the timeline of the show but idc

Word count: 6.6k (sorry, this got very out of hand...get it?)

Notes: this is trash but it’s fun so who cares. this is entirely for @clexa-is-forever aka thing’s biggest fan. despite my writer’s block, i still had fun writing this. hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

If someone told you at the beginning of the school year that your best friend would be a sentient disembodied limb, you would’ve laughed in their face.

Not because you thought it would be too ridiculous or nonsensical, but because in your mind, it was far too interesting for what Nevermore Academy had to offer.

See, you were initially excited to transfer to Nevermore. To get away from the shallow depths of normie public school and be around people like you. But alas, it was too good to be true—or, maybe, you had gotten your hopes up too high.

Because it turned out that fantastical mythical creatures like vampires, werewolves, and sirens actually weren’t too dissimilar from their normie counterparts. They didn’t care about excitement or adventure or fun, they cared about partying and drinking and dating.

This duality created an atmosphere of contradictions. There were people with literal snakes for hair but also those stupid cliques of popular kids that liked to pick on people for no reason. Werewolves transformed into energetic beasts and prowled the woods together every full moon, but students’ biggest concerns were whom they were gonna ask to the school dance.

It was all strange and supernatural yet shockingly normal. And extraordinarily boring.

The disappointment you felt upon this discovery was immeasurable. It appeared that no matter how far you ran, you could never escape the clutches of adolescent desires and drama.

But there was nowhere else for you to go. This was it, your parents told you that definitively. So you resigned yourself to your fate and settled into life at Nevermore.

Months passed at a snail’s pace. Around the middle of the semester, a new student transferred in. Because nothing of substance happens, she was the talk of the town for a solid two weeks before her scheduled arrival, but you didn’t care.

You would admit that after finally seeing her, your interest was piqued. She certainly fit the murderer vibe. With her pallid complexation and dark eyes, she looked straight out of a black & white horror film, even complete with a black uniform instead of the standard purple (which you were so jealous of).

Temptation pulled at your chest whenever you saw her, but you decided to leave her alone. This school had disappointed you enough, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to handle even more. The decision to keep your distance was made and instead, you let your imagination run wild without the probable barriers of reality to inhibit it. 

Little did you know that only one day after the new girl transferred in, she inadvertently changed the course of your life at Nevermore forever. 

Advanced Gorgon Sciences, your last class of the day, had just ended and you were wandering campus wondering what you were going to do with your free time. You were contemplating going into Jericho when something smacked your cheek.

Pausing, you glanced down and found the offending object to be a small pebble. You followed its rough trajectory up to a ledge on your left and saw something scurrying across it. Against, your nonexistent better judgment, you moved closer and…

You blinked once, then twice, narrowed your eyes.

It was a hand—literally just a hand, cut off at the wrist but still scuttling and scurrying around with no problem.

So, you were definitely losing your mind. Honestly, it was about damn time.

Having nothing better to do, you decided to lean into the madness and approach the hand. At the sound of your footsteps, it turned and…looked at you? You weren’t sure, but it acknowledged your presence with a friendly wave.

You waved back, a laugh bubbling up in your throat as you hoisted yourself up to sit on the ledge.

Once you were up, you saw that the hand was fiddling with a makeshift slingshot, struggling to simultaneously keep it upright while loading and aiming it. His plight was fairly obvious and considering his circumstance, you couldn’t help but feel for him.

Abandoning the slingshot, the hand crawled over to you and started tapping insistently. It took much more brain power than it ought to for you to realize that he was trying to speak to you.

“Sorry, I don’t understand…that,” you apologized with a grimace. But an idea came to mind a moment later. “Can you write?”

The hand gave you a thumbs up. You dug around your backpack and pulled out a notebook along with a pen, flipping it open to an empty page and slid it over, setting the pen down on top. He picked up the pen and got to work, pushing the notebook back toward you a minute later.

Curious, you looked at the messy scrawl below.

Sorry, was aiming for the guy behind you.

You nodded understandingly. “It’s fine. Could I ask why you’re launching pebbles at students?”

You waited once more as he scribbled his answer and peered down when he pushed the paper over.

For fun.

Again, you nodded. You could respect that.

“Well, do you mind if I join you?” you asked, nodding toward the slingshot. “I’d imagine it would be a lot easier to aim with an extra pair of hands. And the accompanying body,” you added awkwardly at the end, hoping it wouldn’t offend the little guy.

Thankfully it didn’t. He gave you an excited thumbs up, scuttling back over to the slingshot while you scooted over. While he loaded another pebble into the pouch, you scanned the area below for your next victim.

Your eye snagged on a vampire for no real reason other than the fact that he just kinda looked like an asshole.

You pointed to him below. “How about him?”

Thing gave you another thumbs up. Nodding, you held the slingshot in place while Thing drew the pebble back and let it fly.

The shriek that came from your victim almost made you blow your cover. You grabbed Thing and hurriedly crawled back to where you were both out of sight, barely containing your giggles. Once the coast was clear, you cracked, pitching forward with your laughter as Thing drummed his fingers against your arm in what you assumed was amusement.

“That was amazing!” You looked down at him, smirked. “Wanna do another one?”

He tapped your hand enthusiastically, making your smile widen.

Thus was the beginning of an amazing friendship. Well, amazing for you and Thing—not for the rest of Nevermore.

The two of you were a match made in hell. Together you brainstormed a plethora of good pranks to pull on unsuspecting students and teachers.

Putting spiders (fake or otherwise) in students’ lockers. Setting glitter traps on top of classroom doors so whichever unlucky soul walks through first gets showered in glitter. Slipping mentos into people’s sodas. Setting trip wires to watch people faceplant around campus and many more.

It was glorious. Your own personal reign of terror, even.

Principal Weems had her suspicions, but no matter how many times she tried to catch you in the act, you slipped through her fingers. And without proof, her hands were tied. So you and your companion were free to keep enjoying your schemes so long as you were discreet.

For the first time since you enrolled, days passed by in what felt like minutes, the personification of the saying time flies when you’re having fun.

Through it all, you often wondered where the little guy was when he wasn’t with you. You hoped that he wasn’t causing too much mischief without you. He was your partner in crime, after all.

Two weeks in, you decided to ask him at breakfast.

The two of you were at your usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. You were ranting about an upcoming Lycanthrope History test while Thing was launching the grapes you gave him to play with at nearby tables. After your rant, you finally gave in to your curiosity.

“So, what exactly are you doing at Nevermore? I know this place houses some strange students but, something tells me you’re not here to learn.”

He flicked a grape with precise aim, nailing a gorgon right on the forehead before giving you a series of taps. Your face scrunched in confusion.

“Babysitting? Babysitting who?”

Nothing could have prepared you for his answer.

“Wednesday Addams?!”

Your voice came out much louder than intended, turning a few heads around the cafeteria and making Thing jump. You didn’t care, plowing forward in your questioning.

“You’re ‘babysitting’ the school’s homicidal maniac?”

His stance straightened, his nonverbal tone somehow indignant as he corrected you.

You gave him a pointed look. “Attempted homicide isn’t much better, buddy.”

He seemed to contemplate flicking another grape, but seeing Miss Thornhill looking around, he chose not to. Instead, he drummed his fingers inquisitively at you, teasingly waggling his fingers at the end. You gave him another sharp look, insulted by his implication.

“Scared? What, no! This is amazing news,” you exclaimed. Then, an idea arose. “Hey, do you think she’d let us borrow any of her stuff for pranks?”

Thing mournfully shook his wrist. You let out a deep sigh, slumping over again. “Yeah, I guess I should’ve expected that answer.”

Wednesday didn’t really come up in conversation after that. You asked a few more times about her willingness to let you borrow her things, but after receiving the same answer, you gave up. Your paths had yet to cross, and you assumed that it would stay that way. But the universe seemed to have other plans.

The first time you formally met her was about a month after she transferred.

It was an appropriately cloudy day and you and Thing had just successfully completed a heist. You were in the Weathervane, both gushing over the fact that you had managed to steal fifteen scented lotions from Jericho’s local Bed, Bath & Body Works when a sharp voice interrupted you.

“So this is who you’ve been running off with these past few weeks.”

Both you and Thing flinched, looking up to see the Wednesday Addams staring down at you and your partner.

Offering a wave, you said, “Hey, Wednesday. Want a scented lotion?”

She ignored you completely. Her eyes barely scanned your figure before she was turning her full attention to Thing, her arms crossing over her chest in vindication.

“I knew you had to have an accomplice. You’re nowhere near nimble enough to properly set a trip wire by yourself.”

Thing slumped, obviously disheartened by the statement, but before you could defend his honor, your mind caught on something else.

“Wait…” You looked over at Thing, offended. “Have you been taking full credit for our pranks this entire time?”

Sheepish, Thing bowed, giving your hand an apologetic pat. You moved it away, crossing your own arms over your chest.

“Since this is your first offense, I’ll forgive you. But do it again and I’m keeping all of the profits from our future heists, got it?”

Thing jumped in alarm, tapping urgently. You smiled. “Good.”

Wednesday looked between you both, clearly unimpressed. You decided to take your shot again.

“You know, the lotion offer still stands.” You rifled through the lotions, taking note of their scents, and glanced back up with an apologetic look. “Though, we don’t have one that smells like stage 4 human decomposition, sorry.”

Again, she just stared blankly. You swore you saw her eye twitch but still, she said nothing and glared at Thing.

“Be back at the dorm by 7.”

With that, she turned and marched out of the café, leaving everyone in her path to fearfully stumble out of her way. Both of you watched, rapt, as she slammed the café door open and nearly nailed an approaching customer in the face.

Once she was out of sight, you turned to Thing. “Y’know, I think that went well, buddy.”

Thing said nothing.

You thought that would be the end of it, and honestly, you would’ve been fine if it had been. You made a good first impression and she now knew you existed. A double win!

But again, it seemed that someone had other plans—though this time it wasn’t the universe, but Thing.

Now that you and Wednesday had been semi-acquainted, Thing began inviting you to their dorm for hangouts frequently (because it was “his dorm too” …you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise). This set a few things in motion.

First, you met Wednesday’s roommate, Enid.

Enid was nice. A little hyper, like she was on a permanent sugar rush, but sweet, nonetheless. She gave you free manicures and skincare advice, and even let you borrow some things for pranks, so you hadn’t a single bad thing to say about her.

Second, you found out that you were very bad at scaling buildings.

Due to both curfew and Wednesday’s usual disapproval of your presence, Thing insisted on smuggling you in. By throwing a rope down to your balcony for you to climb. And…let’s just say that it’s a miracle you even survived the first time.

And finally, most importantly, you and Wednesday began to grow closer.

Only by about a centimeter, but progress was progress. And through sheer willpower and repeated exposure, you wormed your way into the tolerance stage, which is farther than most people who came into contact with Wednesday got, so you were proud.

She wasn’t warmer per se, but the sight of you in her dorm was no longer met with a throwing knife, just a death glare and some tentative (mostly one-sided) conversation if she was in a good mood. It was a big win.

Now that she wasn’t orchestrating any attempts on your life, you grew…not protective, but defensive of her, and Enid for that matter. Enid was your friend and Wednesday was…Wednesday. Willingly or not, they were part of your small circle.

So when a werewolf insulted Wednesday right to her face the day before the Poe Cup, well who could blame you for getting a little revenge?

You overheard him call Wednesday a frigid bitch, and he was right, but he didn’t have to say it like it was a bad thing. In retaliation, you and Thing gave him a special surprise involving shampoo and some of Enid’s hair dye that you were very excited to see the next day.

And it didn’t disappoint. Seeing the flash of bright pink amongst the Furs, and a matching flush of embarrassment that was nearly the same color was the highlight of your day.

At least it was until the Black Cats emerged from their tents.

Given your positioning, you were only able to see them once they started climbing into their canoe, and needless to say that the team’s roster shocked you. There were a few girls you didn’t recognize up front, then Enid and, as her co-pilot in the back, Wednesday.

Your jaw dropped. Because not only was she competing in the competition, but she was also wearing a skintight black catsuit, complete with ears and a tail.

The laugh you let out was so loud that it startled the surrounding crowd. You felt something poking your leg, and looking down, you found Thing standing by your feet. You bent down, glancing over to the Black Cat’s boat.

“Hey, you helping out Wednesday and Enid?”

He bowed in confirmation. Nodding, you stuck out a hand.

“Punch at least one siren for me, alright bud?”

He shook your hand firmly, a promise to fulfill your wish, and crawled off to the boat.

The event itself was rather dull. With the way Enid explained it, you were expecting something a bit more grandiose, but in reality, it was just standing around and watching for boats. Boring.

But hey, it gave you a half-day of classes, so who were you to complain?

The results though, were much more interesting.

For the first time in decades, the trophy went to Ophelia Hall. You were happy, not because you had any buried school spirit, but because you knew how much Enid wanted this. Seeing the fish get knocked down a peg was a nice bonus.

Afterward, you pushed through the crowd to try and find Enid so you could personally congratulate her, but before you could spot her, you bumped into her co-pilot. Literally.

Blindly, you steadied the smaller girl by the shoulders, a sorry on the tip of your tongue, but it got swallowed down as you were crudely reminded of her current state of dress. You tore your eyes from her outfit and dropped your hands back to your side, meeting her glare with what you prayed was a straight face.

“Hey, Wends. Congrats on the win! Love the outfit by the way,” you said, trying your absolute hardest not to crack a smile. The large ears were making that exceptionally hard, however.

She scowled. “Don’t call me that and for your information, I was forced to wear this.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything without laughing. Thankfully, it seemed Wednesday wasn’t finished speaking anyway.

“I noticed that werewolf’s hair is now a rather putrid shade of pink,” she said. “Did you perhaps have something to do with that?”

Once again, you found yourself unsuccessfully fighting off a smile. “I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions. But it suits him, don’t you think?”

Before she could respond, a soaking wet Thing pulled on your pant leg and excitedly began recounting what happened. You bent down again, nodding along with his story, and beamed at him once he finished.

“Right in the eye?” you reiterated, and Thing confirmed. “That’s awesome. I knew I could count on you.” You gave him a quick high five then scooped him up, drying him off on your uniform and setting him on your shoulder.

You stood back up and saw that Wednesday was still there, staring at you so intently that you were sure she was somehow looking straight through you.

Cocking your head to the side, you went to ask if she was alright, but that must’ve knocked her from her stupor because, without another word, she spun on her heel and walked off, leaving you to stare at the spot she just occupied, thoroughly bewildered.

“That was weird,” you commented. Thing gave an agreeing pat.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t question her about it since you didn’t get the chance to speak with her again until exactly three days later.

It was just after dinner. Thing invited you over to help prepare a new scheme, and who were you to say no to the little guy?

Enid was visiting Yoko in the infirmary and Wednesday was nowhere to be seen, so it was just you and Thing, sitting by the window hard at work.

You tied the water balloon in your hand and held it in front of you, giving it a contemplative look. “You’re sure these will only give them bad rashes, right?”

The only response you received was a shrug, which was good enough for you, so you picked up the next one and got to filling it up. Not one to work in silence, you voiced a thought you’d been holding in for a while.

“So, do you breathe? Like, would be able to drown if you stayed under the water for too long?”

Thing shook his wrist matter of factly. You gasped.

“That’s so cool.” The flustered thuds you heard after made you chuckle.

Satisfied, you went back to filling balloons, but your head popped up only a minute later, another burning question on your mind. “If you can’t eat or drink, then what physically sustains you to keep you alive?”

Without missing a beat, Thing tapped out his answer.

“The misery of others?” You snorted. “Yeah, I guess that tracks.”

Conversation lapsed into quiet as you both focused on your tasks, and your mind wandered.

You wondered where Wednesday was. The hour just after dinner was her designated writing hour, and it was very unusual for her to be missing it.

You hoped that she’d be back soon, even if she only glared at you the rest of the night. Just seeing her would be enough to satisfy you.

Because in a somewhat cruel twist of irony, you were now falling victim to the very same feelings you mocked others for getting caught up in, and even more brutal was the fact that you didn’t mind all too much. Mostly because it was Wednesday.

Now, you were no poet or writer. You weren’t going to wax poetic and spew a thousand grandiose metaphors about how her eyes resembled that of a starless sky, no.

Wednesday was really pretty and genuinely interesting, and she looked at you like a predator wanting to tear apart its prey. And really, that’s all it took for you to dive right off that cliff’s edge into infatuation.

There was a certain excitement in knowing that she could dismember you with surgical precision if you ever went just a little too far, an irresistible thrill to be found in constantly toeing that line. Like walking a tightrope with life and death teetering on a knife’s edge—the perfect counterbalance to the endless loop of monotonous boredom your life had seemingly fallen into before her and Thing’s arrival.

The sound of the door opening interrupted your train of thought, and you whipped your head just in time to see Wednesday stride in with a book cradled in her arms and her usual annoyed expression adorning her features.

You perked up, and out the corner of your eye, you saw Thing do the same.

“Hey! How’s Nevermore’s resident tiny terror doing today?”

“Call me that again and I will disembowel you,” came her cheerful reply. You snorted.

“Uh-huh.” You finished tying the last balloon and looked back up, seeing Wednesday eyeing your prep work with distaste.

“Are those water balloons?” she asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Yep. They’re filled with holy water so we can throw them at the vampires who were teasing Enid last week for not being able to shift.” You grinned. Wednesday’s eyes widened a fraction.

“That’s insane,” she commented. Then after a beat, “Make sure to film it on your cellular device so I can watch as well.

“Of course,” you assured her, giving a dramatic bow as well. She rolled her eyes, and you watched her resign to her desk. Unable to contain your curiosity, you piped back up, “So what took you so long? I was expecting you to come in and kick me out hours ago.”

Her reply was instantaneous. “I discovered a secret passageway in the school, committed theft, and became the target of an attempted kidnapping.”

A twinge of jealousy pierced your gut. How come she always got to do the fun stuff? You quickly shook it off, focusing on the first thing she said.

“A secret passageway?” you asked, already thinking of ways to possibly utilize the space for you and Thing.

“Yes, I solved a riddle and uncovered a passageway hidden behind the Edgar Allen Poe statue in the quad.”

The Edgar Allen Poe statue… Recognition sparked, and the pieces slotted together, some of your prior jealousy abating.

“Ohh, you got kidnapped in the Nightshade’s Library?”

Finally, she looked at you, gaze so sharp it could’ve cut you in two. “How do you know about that?”

You and Thing shared an unsubtle sideways glance.

“Uh—”

“So what fingers do you do it with? Thumb and ring finger or thumb and middle finger?”

The pressing question was delivered in a whisper. It was late—at least an hour after lights out, but Thing promised to teach you how to snap before he left for his dorm.

So to avoid being caught, you and the appendage were tucked into the corner of a small hall that branched off from the quad. You were hunched against a tall Edgar Allen Poe statue while your companion stood next to you.

Thing waggled his fingers and pointedly put his thumb against his middle finger. You nodded and copied his movements, rubbing the fingers together to get a feel for it.

“So I just…”

You pressed the fingers together and made the snapping motion a few times in quick succession, beaming up at him when you managed to produce a few low sounds.

Suddenly, a deep rumble emanated from the ground beneath you as the statue you were seated on began to shift. You leapt to your feet, quickly grabbing Thing and placing him on your shoulder. You both watched, baffled, as the statue moved to reveal a long winding staircase.

Taking in a breath, you shared a look with Thing then looked back to the open pathway.

“Holy shit!”

“No reason,” you said far too quickly to be believable. Before she could question you further, you cleared your throat and moved on. “Did you have fun?”

“No. They were imbeciles that didn’t even know the basics of the art of abduction. It was pitiful.”

You frowned. “Oh. Sorry about that. I hope the next one is better.”

Wednesday shot you a strange look, studying you carefully before mumbling out a barely audible thank you, and turning back to her desk.

Since you were finished with the balloons, you slumped back against the window. There was nothing to do, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your eyes drifted back to Wednesday’s hunched form. Nosiness tugged at you. You wanted to know more about what she stole and why, and a glance at Thing told you that he did too.

Extending your arm for him to climb, you waited until he rested securely on your shoulder before heading to Wednesday’s desk to see what she was up to.

Lying flat on the wood before her was the book, opened to an illustration. On the left page was what looked to be a pilgrim extending a staff toward the figure on the right, who somewhat resembled Wednesday. You squinted. Scratch that, the girl on the right looked exactly like Wednesday.

“Is this what you stole?”

“Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look over my shoulder like that.”

Her words went in one ear and out the other, your mind too busy trying to decipher the meaning of the drawing to actually listen. Finally, the identity of the mystery pilgrim clicked, and you asked, “Why’d someone draw you in a picture with Crackstone?”

Her head whipped over to you, all complaints of you being there gone. “You know who this is?”

“Yeah,” you answered, “Joseph Crackstone. He’s like, Jericho’s chief colonizer. Founded the whole town or something.”

She didn’t respond, seeming to take in the information, but you didn’t want the conversation to die quite yet, so you carried on.

“Outreach Day is next week, are you excited? I, for one, am pumped to do menial work for no pay.”

“No, I’m not,” she said, then appeared to rethink her answer. “Actually yes, but not because of the forced child labor. I already have plans to further my investigation in Jericho.”

You perked up, leaning forward to try and catch her eyes. “Can I come?”

She didn’t even bother looking back at you when she answered, hard and firm.

“No.”

-

“Thanks for letting me come along, Wends!”

Wednesday clenched her jaw, expelling a sharp breath through her nose. This was the third time you’d said that in the past four hours, and while she was able to ignore the other two, the addition of that stupid nickname made holding herself back a third time impossible.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? And you’re only here because someone,” she sent Thing a murderous glare, “refused to cooperate without your agonizing presence.”

Your eyes widened, darting over to the hand resting on your shoulder. “Really?”

Thing gave a shy wave. A wide smile spread across your cheeks in response.

“Well thanks for advocating for me, bud. It means a lot,” you said with a hand over your heart, sounding far too cheerful for someone that just chased a dangerous monster.

Wednesday didn’t bother dignifying you with any more responses, turning back to the woods ahead. But that got her thinking.

Why had she let you come anyways?

There was no good reason that came to mind. You were insufferable. The human embodiment of vexation and foolishness and petulance. You were, in essence, all the traits she disliked in the general human race given physical form.

And yet, she had allowed you to come along.

Yes, Thing asked her time and time again to permit your presence, but instead of threatening his life like she should have done, she gave in with the silent promise of revenge.

It made no sense. You pushed boundaries, disobeyed orders, and disregarded her threats and insults with a garish smile like they were no more than a joke heard in passing.

And only now did she realize that she found it far less irritating than she did when she first met you.

The answer to why was unclear, but Wednesday wasn’t sure if that was because she was genuinely unsure of the reasoning behind her decision or because she didn’t want to figure it out.

Your annoying voice thankfully halted her mind’s trajectory.

“Of course, you’re my favorite Addams. You’re my best friend, the only other five-fingered appendage I’ll ever need in my life. Plus, Wednesday hates me so there’s no competition.”

Wednesday was once again stunned by the inane conversations you and Thing have on a daily basis. Some of the talks she’d overheard in the past months could be unironically described as mind-numbing.

Deciding to have some fun to pass the time, she turned to fully face you, running her eyes over your form before speaking.

“I don’t hate you.”

She watched your eyes go wide and you looked at her with some odd form of hope. The corners of her lips twitched.

“I despise you. There’s a difference.”

Your head dropped exaggeratedly, but when you looked up again there was a smile on your face, making any notion of hers disappear.

She couldn’t stand that—the way you were never put off by anything she had to say.

Enid had the same tendency to shrug off her threats, but even she was unnerved when she first met Wednesday. But not you. Wednesday couldn’t think of a single time when anything she said, threat or otherwise, made you uncomfortable or fearful, and there was seldom anything that got under her skin more.

“That was mean, Wednesday. Really mean.” She noticed Thing say something on your shoulder and you gave a playful gasp in response. “Don’t laugh, Thing. That wasn’t funny,” you said, even though you were giggling yourself.

At the sight and sound of your laughter, something strange happened. Something combusted within her, and the flames spread, licking her sternum with an uncomfortable intensity. Like someone crudely lit a match and let it fall inside of her chest, allowing the fire to wreak havoc on her insides. It was unpleasant.

Even more unpleasant was the knowledge that this was not the first time this had happened. And that was but another in the long list of reasons why she shouldn’t have permitted your presence today.

She faced forward abruptly and kept walking, but you entered her peripheral moments later, no doubt ready to bother her with something.

As always, she was proven correct. “Hey, so you said that Crackstone was in that vision with your ancestor, right? And he killed a bunch of outcasts?”

“Correct.”

That mischievous smile she had come to recognize spread across your face, pulling your lips up at a slightly uneven angle.

“What do you say we get a little revenge?”

“And how exactly do you propose we get revenge on a pilgrim that died centuries ago?” she inquired skeptically.

You hummed. “Undecided but you go on ahead and just let the masterminds cook for a bit. I promise we’ll come up with something great.”

You and Thing flashed her a simultaneous thumbs-up, to which she just blinked. Not needing to be told twice, she started walking again, leaving you both to linger behind. Once there was a sufficient distance between you and her, she slowed slightly.

Though she had just made a vital discovery for her case, she figured this brief period of quiet would be better spent unpacking that persistent internal conflagration that flared whenever you were near.

Deigning to use her tried and true investigative process, she tried to start from the beginning, to gather all the information she had and prepare it for analysis, but she immediately got lost because truthfully, she couldn’t pinpoint the start of your assimilation into her daily routine.

Her…acquaintanceship with you made little sense, even to her. Especially to her. The same could also be said about her budding friendship? with Enid, but that was easier to parse.

Enid was her roommate; someone she quite literally couldn’t avoid since they lived together. But you weren’t. You were Thing’s friend, sure, but that didn’t answer the question of why Wednesday was becoming entangled with you as well.

However, looking at it from a logical perspective, it somewhat made sense.

A mutual penchant for mischief and practical jokes is what drew you and Thing together. In that same vein, she supposed that your insatiable appetite for adventure and her unquenchable thirst for triumph put you both on a collision course that neither of you could prevent. Especially in such a creatively stagnant climate as Nevermore.

A rebel and a renegade—two of a kind. You understood her and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she understood you.

She just didn’t know how to interpret the unexpected side effects that came with that mutual understanding.

(That was a lie, she realized. Somewhere deep down she knew, but she didn’t want it to mean what she thought it might. After all, she couldn’t possibly be letting someone like you turn her into an apostate to her own beliefs and morals…right?

She thought back to what she said to her mother on her first day, how hypocritical her words looked in the face of this dilemma. God, how pitiful of a circumstance she found herself in.)

Either way, Wednesday had allowed the sparks to ignite, and she knew that any chance she had of tempering the subsequent wildfire it caused was lessening with every moment she knowingly spent with you in her space.

Part of her didn’t want to anyway.

Approaching voices behind her caught her attention. Focusing on the present once more, she listened in.

“That’s an awesome idea, right?” she heard you say lowly.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. Everything was either cool, awesome, or amazing to you. She desperately needed to expand your vocabulary if you were going to be sticking around. For her sanity.

Wet footsteps neared, and you ran ahead of Wednesday, turning to face her with a demeanor resembling that of an excitable puppy. She sped up her pace, but you matched it, even while walking backward.

“Ok, Wednesday, plan secured. You know what I need?”

“A thesaurus?”

You blinked, brows furrowed, then shrugged. “Yeah, probably but I was actually gonna say that I need gasoline, and matches.”

“Well, there’s a hardware store a block down from the Weathervane, you could get gasoline from there. I have the matches covered.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow quirked, a grin appearing along with it. “You have matches on you?”

“Of course. I carry a box with me everywhere I go.”

Your smile widened.

Wednesday ignored the flames ravaging her organs and asked, “Are you going to tell me what this ‘plan’ is?”

“And ruin the surprise? No. All I’m gonna say is that you should have another song prepared for the unveiling.”

She narrowly avoided rolling her eyes again. Given the materials you needed, Wednesday had a good idea of what you were planning anyway, and thankfully, she had just the song in mind.

The three of you parted ways as you reentered the town proper, you and Thing running off to gather supplies, and Wednesday, after handing her matches over, headed into the square to prepare her cello.

Unsurprisingly, she was the first person there. She sat in the seat by her cello, languidly checking its strings more out of a need for something to do than because she needed to. Her cello was always perfectly tuned.

It didn’t take very long for you to follow, running into the square with a canister of gasoline and a bag of what looked to be gunpowder. She heard a low “let’s blow this fucker back to hell, Thing” before you split up, Thing pouring the gasoline in the base of the statue while you created a trail of black powder from the statue to behind the bleachers.

Wednesday watched you, the familiar feeling of being proven right tugging her lips upward. If nothing else, your flair for the dramatic was commendable.

You both finished and took refuge behind the bleachers just as people started filing in for the ceremony. As the normie high school band set up behind her, she took note of how nobody looked particularly enthused to be here (besides Enid, who would somehow find a way to be excited to watch paint dry).  

Soon, the ceremony was underway, and it was as underwhelming as Wednesday expected it to be. Just a plethora of fake smiles, stale claps, and off-key notes from the laughingstock of a “band” performing with her.

An explosion might not even be enough to resuscitate the audience at this point.

Once the fountain was turned on, Wednesday sent a sideways glance to you and you nodded, signaling something to Thing on the ground below. A trail of smoke and the telltale sound of burning gunpowder followed and Wednesday felt her dead heart begin to pick up pace at the thought of the coming anarchy.

Finally, the looming bronze figure burst into a brilliant ball of flame, the sound of the blast washing away the wretched off-key notes of the incompetent band behind her.

As the panic began to set in, her fingers moved on their own, relishing the familiar feel of the aching, discordant cords of Vivaldi’s Winter.

In moments, Jericho’s empty streets were flooded with people running in terror as sirens wailed in the distance. The harmonious screams that erupted from both outcasts and normies alike were almost more pleasant to her ears than the song that she was playing.

Principal Weems glared at her from afar, eyes narrowed in brewing suspicion, and Wednesday stared right back, lips coiling into a poisonous smile.

Tearing her eyes away from the principal, she peered through the haze of the smoke toward the bleachers. You were watching her with wide, awestruck eyes and a smile. You only looked away briefly to give Thing a fist bump before turning back toward her, but her gaze never faltered from you. Even with all of the glorious chaos happening around her.

That horrible, detestable feeling in her chest returned with a vengeance, blazing brighter than the raging fire to her right. But in this moment, she welcomed it, let it fuel her as the music reached its climax.

As the warm orange glow of the flames reflected off the raw excitement and amazement in your eyes and her treacherous song came to its end, Wednesday recognized that perhaps neither hatred nor disdain was quite the right word to describe how she felt for you after all.

And perhaps becoming a heretic and a hypocrite wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world after all (though it would certainly be close). 

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 78

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Sunday, April 10th – Manchester Airport.

I've never been so excited to go on vacation. I'm sitting next to Lucy, holding her hand. We're waiting for our flight. Jenni and Alexia dropped us off an hour ago after we ate together, and now we're alone. It's soothing to be just the two of us, especially after the past few weeks.

"Excited?" Lucy whispers to me.

"Oh yes."

"It will be well-deserved."

We exchange a smile. After nonstop studying, tests, mock exams, and even working at the gallery with Grace for two Saturdays... Yes, I think it will be well-deserved. I've worked hard, but I don't regret it. It helped lift a huge weight off my shoulders. At least I've secured my spot at art school for next year. That's something. Now, as agreed with Lucy, I must step away from my studies for two weeks. It's difficult because my diploma is still on my mind. I worked hard, and I think I did quite well on my mock exams this week, but you never really know. In the meantime, I promised to make the most of these two weeks, so I’m trying not to think about it. The only thing I need to focus on is Lucy and our families.

"I was thinking we could go camping," I shared with Lucy.

"Camping, huh?"

"Yeah. We've talked about it so much. It would be a great opportunity. Or at least spend the evening on the beach! Oh my God, I’ve missed that so much," I said excitedly. "With a campfire, marshmallows, and—"

"Hey," Lucy laughed. "Relax. We'll have all the time to do whatever you want. It seems work has gotten to your head, huh?" she teased, running her hand through my hair.

"Are you making fun of me?" I asked, pouting.

"Oh no," she smiled mischievously.

"That was the deal, remember? I had to give it my all until vacation and then calm down afterward."

"That’s true. You didn’t sneak any study materials into your suitcase, did you? Maybe I should have checked."

"Stop," I giggled. "I wouldn’t do that."

"Oh no. That's not like you at all."

I laughed harder and playfully slapped her thigh at her irony. It's true I thought about it, but I didn't do it. I really want to enjoy this relaxing vacation. After all, we're going back home.

"Hey, none of that," she said, intertwining our fingers after my playful slap. "We have to endure almost 3 hours together in the air, so let’s not start hitting each other."

"True, but we'll sleep through half of it, so you don’t have to worry."

"Speak for yourself. You're a real napper."

I smiled. It's hard to argue with that. I enjoy being calm in moments like this. Finally, boarding time arrives. This is going to be a long trip. My six-hour flight back to Barcelona will seem like nothing compared to the nineteen hours we're about to face, with a layover, no less. We settle into our seats after passing through security. It's a shame, but I won’t see Shay here. She explained that she tries to be on the Barcelona flight as often as possible because her boyfriend lives there.

"Do you take this trip often?" I asked my girlfriend, gazing out of the window.

I’m eager to take off, but also nervous. I've never liked flying to Portugal. I wonder how Lucy feels about it. I remember she's not particularly fond of flying either.

"I think I’ve told you before," she answered. "I visit my parents twice a year… although, that might change next year."

"Why? Because of me? Please don't say that. I haven’t even met your parents yet, and they're going to hate me."

"Why are you getting so worked up?" she laughed. "Of course not. The venue will take up a lot of my time. I'll have other things to do than visit them. They'll just have to come to me for once."

"Okay," I murmured.

"Are you still nervous about meeting them?"

"A little…"

"Everything will be fine, I promise."

I smiled as she brought my hand to her lips. She makes me feel like everything's going to be okay. It’s crazy.

"Come on, get some rest. The trip is long, so you might as well recharge."

"Doesn’t it bother you...?"

"Sweetheart, you’ve been pushing yourself hard for three weeks. I know you’re tired. Rest, this is your time."

"Okay," I murmured. "Promise you won’t let me sleep too long though? I don’t want to leave you alone for the entire trip."

"Sweetheart, don’t worry about that. Sleep. We’ll have plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company when we land."

She nudged me to rest my head against her. I smiled and settled into a comfortable position. It’s true, a little rest wouldn’t hurt. I’ve been going non-stop. It’s time to relax, but before that... she’s right. I need some rest.

"Thank you," I murmured as I watched the takeoff through the window.

My eyelids felt heavy after half an hour. I tried to stay awake to keep Lucy company, but she seemed to avoid talking to help me fall asleep. It didn’t take long.

Sunday, April 10th, – Lisbon Airport.

It's either early or late... I’m not sure anymore. Now I remember why I hate jet lag. The good thing is the flight made me forget the time and regain some energy. I feel great, and I think Lucy does too. We’ve got silly smiles on our faces. We know we’ll finally be able to live safely here. We were so happy to return to our homeland. As we enter the terminal, I immediately spot my grandpa. Lucy must have sensed my excitement because she released my hand without saying a word, letting me run toward him. I immediately hug him tightly.

"I'm so happy to see you again! I missed you."

"And I missed you."

We pull apart, and I turn toward Lucy, who’s now by my side again. Before I even have time to introduce them, my grandpa asks:

"Well, is this the lucky one?" he says with a grin.

"Yes. Grandpa, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is Charlie Batlle, my grandfather."

"Nice to finally meet you. Ona’s told me a lot about you."

She smiles genuinely, though I can tell there’s a bit of tension behind it. My grandpa chuckles and catches her off guard by giving her a big hug.

"Forget formalities with me, dear. It’s a pleasure to meet my granddaughter’s girlfriend."

I smile in return. I didn’t expect this meeting to go any other way. My grandpa has such a big heart. When I told him who I was coming with, he was thrilled. I expected nothing less from him.

"How was the flight?" he asks as we start walking.

"Long, but overall good."

"Oh yes, it’s quite a haul. But we’re glad to finally be here."

I let them chat as I take in my surroundings. Just feeling the ground beneath my feet is a pleasure. My legs had started to go numb from sitting for so long. The sun shines through the large windows, making me smile. I feel like a ball of energy. It's wonderful to be back, but also hard. The last time I was here was for my father’s funeral... I don’t have time to dwell on it, though, as we grab our bags and head outside. The weather feels nice. A bit cool, but I’m not surprised given the time. It's early, and this time of year, we’re in autumn. I think we’ll be lucky. It feels mild, and we’ll be able to do lots of outdoor activities like we talked about on the plane.

"How’s the weather?" I ask my grandpa for his opinion.

- "I think you're going to be lucky in the next few days," he replies with a smile.

- "Great."

We walk through the parking lot, looking for his car. I spot it immediately, remembering it perfectly.

- "Oh, you still have your old pickup!? I can't believe it!"

I rush over to it, making my girlfriend laugh. I've always loved this car. My grandfather used to let me sit in the back whenever we took short trips. I expected him to have gotten rid of it by now.

- "It's a nice car," Lucy comments, running her hand over the bodywork. "1970 Chevrolet, right?"

- "Yes, that's right," my grandfather says, surprised. "You like cars?"

- "She loves them," I chime in before Lucy can respond. "She's a huge fan. If there's anyone you can talk to about your old cars, it's definitely her."

- "She's exaggerating," my girlfriend replies, a bit embarrassed. "I know a little thanks to my dad. He loves them, so I guess I inherited that from him."

- "Do you know a bit about mechanics?" he continues. "Because I think this old thing could use a little tune-up."

- "Oh. Well, I can take a look if you'd like. I restored my first car with my dad, and it was about the same age, so I think I can manage."

- "Really?" I say, surprised. "I didn't know that."

I knew she liked cars, but I never knew where it came from. Now I do. I think these holidays are going to be a way for us to learn more about each other. After all, we’re returning to our roots.

- "I wouldn't be as interesting if I told you everything all at once," she teases, making my grandfather laugh.

- "She's right! That's how I kept your grandmother for all those years."

He adores my girlfriend, it's obvious. I couldn't be happier. His opinion matters a lot to me. It's like my dad accepting her.

- "What was her name?" Lucy asks.

- "Mandie."

- "That's a beautiful name. We’ll have to keep it in mind for later."

I blush at this comment, which is clearly not a joke. It's obvious she means it. I think back to the conversation we had at the restaurant. She really does want to have kids with me someday. Finally, we pack our things into the back. Once we're done, my grandfather hands the keys to my girlfriend.

- "Oh, um..."

She looks at me, unsure of what to do. I shrug with a little smile.

- "I wouldn’t say no if I were you. You must be dying to, and let’s just say he doesn’t let just anyone drive his baby..."

- "Oh yes, that's for sure," confirms my grandfather.

- "I don’t even know the way," she tries to argue.

- "Well, we’ll guide you," I reply. "Come on, I'll sit next to you."

I snatch the keys from my grandfather and drag Lucy to encourage her to do it. I sit in the middle to stay by her side. I can tell she's feeling a bit awkward behind the wheel, but that quickly fades once we leave the airport. I smile because it's clear she's enjoying herself. The engine purrs, showing its age, but it still drives smoothly. It just needs a good clean-up. On the other side, I can see my grandfather is happy too. He was so excited to know we were coming. It's been a long time since anyone visited him. I know he knows a lot of people here, but it must be tough losing all your loved ones and being left without family nearby. In any case, he's in great shape. He hasn’t stopped talking the entire ride. I'm really glad I got some sleep on the plane; otherwise, I wouldn’t have handled this conversation as well given the time of day. On the other hand, I'm enjoying seeing Lisbon again. It feels like home. I smile when Lucy parks in front of the family house. It’s a little home that I’ve always been particularly fond of. We’re far from the city, and there’s a small beach just behind it. I’ve always found this place to be peaceful. Lucy must think the same, judging by the way she looks at the house with wonder.

- "You must be starving," says my grandfather as he gets out of the car. "I’ll go make you both some breakfast. Ona, why don’t you show her around the house while you wait?"

- "Yeah," I say, snapping out of my thoughts. "Yeah, of course. Thanks."

We get out as well, and I smile as I watch Lucy taking it all in. It feels strange to see her here, far from our obligations, but especially at my place. I finally feel like her girlfriend and not just her student.

- "Not bad, huh?" I ask, nudging her playfully.

- "It’s beautiful, indeed," she says with a small smile. "Is this the family home?"

- "Yeah... This was my dad’s last home," I confess.

- "Really?" she raises an eyebrow.

- "Yeah. He came back to live here after... my grandmother passed away and my parents divorced."

- "I see," she nods. "It’s a lovely place, though," she whispers. "You must have a lot of memories here."

- "Oh yes..." I breathe.

I squeal in surprise as we’re interrupted by a ball of fur that literally jumps on me. Lucy bursts out laughing and crouches down to greet the dog, who quickly forgets about me.

- "I can’t believe it! A little petting, and he’s off to someone else," I grumble, making my girlfriend smile.

- "Good thing humans aren’t like that. So, aren’t you going to introduce me?" she teases. "It’s an Australian Shepherd, isn’t it?"

I laugh, shaking my head.

- "Yes, that’s right. Let me introduce you to Buzz, the youngest member of the family. Well, sort of!" I giggle.

- "Wow. He seems like such a sweet dog."

I tilt my head with a smile, noticing she’s clearly no longer paying attention to me at the moment. Oh, so she really loves dogs, huh? Another thing I didn’t know. I crouch down too and finally manage to get the dog’s attention, along with Lucy’s.

- "Do you like dogs?" she asks me.

- "I do, yes. I didn’t know you were such a fan."

- "Oh, I love them, but they need a lot of attention, unfortunately."

- "That’s true."

I start petting Buzz too. I missed him. My dad wanted to get a dog so my grandfather wouldn’t be alone when he was away on missions. My grandfather wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but in the end, he’s the one most attached to Buzz.

- "Maybe we could consider getting one."

I look up at Lucy in surprise.

- "Really?"

- "Well, why not? Maybe not right away, but once we see how our schedule is next year. If everything works out, we could get one."

- "Definitely, yes!"

I nod enthusiastically, making Lucy laugh. It would be a great first step toward commitment.

- "Alright," she says, standing up.

- "I should really show you around the house," I announce, standing up too.

We grab our bags and head inside. It feels strange being here again... The last time I was, my dad was still around. It’s bittersweet because I’ve always loved his rustic style. Lucy must have noticed my change in mood because she gently places her hand on my back.

- "Will you show me our room?"

I smile shyly and nod. From where we’re standing, we can see the living room, but I lead her upstairs to our left instead. Lucy follows closely behind. The house isn’t very big, but it has three bedrooms and a bathroom just on the upper floor. Mine is at the end. When we walk through the door, we’re greeted by a room flooded with light from a large bay window that opens onto a small terrace, almost as small as my room itself. It’s barely big enough for a bed and a wardrobe, but it’s more than enough. I chose this room because I fell in love with the view of the sea. I’ve lost count of how many times I left the curtains open just to wake up to that view, accompanied by the sound of the waves. It feels like paradise. Nothing has been moved, yet I can tell everything is clean. My grandfather must have taken the time to tidy up.

"It’s lovely," she whispers, pulling me out of my memories. "Is that your dad? »

I nod as she points to a picture of us. To be honest, it's the last one we took together. We were in the back, by the sea, and he tried to throw me into the water when we had just arrived here. In the end, it made for a beautiful shot, taken by my grandfather.

"You look a lot like him," she says with a small, sad smile. "How about we take a walk this afternoon? We can visit his grave while we're at it."

"Really?" I reply, surprised. "I mean, I don't want to burden you with that. I would have done it another time, like when you go for your morning run."

"Don't be silly. I'd like to come with you, if that's okay."

I smile softly and nod. I didn't want to pressure her, but if it's her idea, I won't say no.

"Okay... Thank you."

"It's nothing. You seem uneasy... Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah. It's just strange to be here..."

"You haven't been back since?"

"No," I admit. "We came back for the funeral, but..."

I take a deep breath. She has a right to know, after all.

"I didn't have the courage to set foot here again. I made my mom book us hotel rooms."

She nods in understanding.

"Come here."

She opens her arms, and I immediately snuggle into her embrace. She kisses my forehead, holding me tightly.

"It’ll be okay, alright? He wouldn't want to see you like this."

"I know... But it's stronger than me."

"Okay," she says, pulling back. "You know what? We didn't come here to mope around, so... How about we plan that stargazing night tonight instead? We can always take that walk another day. I can see you need a distraction."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. If I'd known there was a beach right behind the house, I would've agreed to this sooner. Might as well enjoy it while the weather's nice. It might not last long."

She's amazing... She always finds ways to lift my spirits. I smile and nod. There's no rush now that we're here, but I really like this idea to start things off.

"Great... And what do you say we help your grandfather now? I can already smell waffles, and honestly, I’m starving."

I laugh and nod. If there’s one thing that didn’t go well during the trip, it’s the meals over the past few hours. A good breakfast will do us good.

"Yeah... You're right. You’ll be impressed. His waffles are the best."

"Oh, really? Better than mine?"

"Um... Hard to say... But yes. I’d say so," I tease, grinning.

"Oh, really? I might need to remind you otherwise..."

"Wh-"

I don’t even get to finish my sentence before she attacks me with tickles. I burst out laughing, squirming to escape her grasp, but it's no use. I accidentally pull her down onto the bed, but she still keeps control. I tend to forget just how strong she is.

"S-stop, p-please."

"Oh, now you’re begging?"

I can barely catch my breath. Lucy slows down, but her laughter still echoes in my head.

"So? Are you going to admit my waffles are the best?"

I try to breathe, but giggles still escape. Her fingers hover threateningly over my stomach, as if daring me to give the wrong answer. I grin, deciding to play along.

"I’m not changing my mind," I say with exaggerated seriousness.

Her mock-offended expression makes me smile like an idiot. I love when we’re like this together.

"Oh yeah? And what should I do to change your mind, huh? Oh, I think I know..."

I laugh as her lips brush against my neck.

"Please. You can’t torture me like this."

"Oh really?" she whispers. "I think I’m the only one who has the right to torture you like this."

I wrap my arms around her neck. I can’t help it. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to start tickling me again, this time under my shirt. The sneaky move leaves me laughing uncontrollably, unable to defend myself.

"S-stop, stop! Okay, okay, you win! Yours are the best! Yours are the best!"

The torture stops at my pleas. The next moment, her lips meet mine, and I immediately relax. I laugh as I try to catch my breath. She really is the one I need, no doubt about it.

"See? That wasn’t so hard."

"Girls?" my grandfather calls out. "Everything’s ready, if you’re hungry."

"Well, look at that. We didn’t even get to help your grandpa."

"He’ll survive," I murmur before kissing her.

I wrap my legs around her waist, but Lucy doesn't seem to agree. Though she chuckles, she gently pushes them away.

"Sweetheart..."

"What?" I laugh. "He can wait two more minutes."

"Okay," she sighs.

She kisses me back. I smile as I feel her hand caressing my stomach. She doesn’t even realize how much she drives me crazy... or maybe she does, judging by the way I move my hips against her.

"Not here, and definitely not now," she teases. "We need to go down."

"But!"

I groan in protest, making her laugh softly. She’s so adorable, looking at me with her head tilted. Her eyes drift down my body, and I realize my shirt is pushed up to my chest. I quickly pull it down, which brings her gaze back to my face.

"If I don’t get to, neither do you."

"Oh, you’re like that now?"

"Yep. Too bad for you. You’re missing out."

I get up from the bed and walk down the hallway, purposely swaying my hips for her to watch. I can hear her laughing behind me, which makes me turn around to stick my tongue out at her. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to catch up and grab my butt at that exact moment.

"Don’t worry, I plan to take care of that during this vacation," she whispers to me.

"Really?" I reply, breathless. "If you stick to your rule of no hooking up under family roofs, we won’t be doing much of anything."

"Who said it would be in a bed?"

Her comment stops me at the top of the stairs. Did I hear that right? Where did my innocent girlfriend go!? It’s her turn to tease me with a playful smile as she walks into the living room where my grandfather is waiting for us. Oh my God. We’ve only just started our vacation, but I don’t know why, I feel like this will be the best one we’ve ever had. Then again, we came here... there's no other word. We understand each other, we live together. I’ve never had it so easy with anyone else. My father was right. In life, you only meet one true love. It doesn’t matter how many people come before or even after... but there’s only one, and you feel it instantly. You just have to be lucky enough to find them. I think I knew from the first day what Lucy would mean to me. I was scared at first. After all, we each tried to push the other away with all our strength... But once again, my father was right. You can’t avoid the inevitable. Fate wanted us to be together, and here we are. One thing’s for sure, I’m not going to repeat my parents' mistakes. Lucy is going to be my priority, and I’ll make sure to nurture our relationship. It’s my turn to show her she deserves the world. Smiling, I join her as she’s already deep in conversation with my grandfather about old cars. Yeah, this woman is perfect.

[chaotic-orphan]

Intoxicating Fear (XVI)

Surprise visitor

TW: strangulation, choking, strangling

Part one // Masterpost // continued from here

~*~*~*~*~*~

The commute home was quiet for the most part, uneventful. Kit wore headphones to silence the world around him and let his mind go blank as he stepped out from the underground into the cool night air. The sky was halfway through its change, streaks of purple and red striking through the slowly darkening blues. Kit’s breath reflected back at him on the air, and he pulled his jacket tighter around him as he walked up the steps to his apartment.

Thoughts of a warm shower and dinner was tantalising as he unlocked his door and stepped in, pocketing his keys. He didn’t get a chance to close the door when his head was slammed again the wall. Kit cursed, clicking his fingers as electricity pulsed around his hand like a glove.

He swung his hand out blindly, hoping he’d hit his attacker. His attacker stepped back, to avoid Kit’s wild swing or because Kit managed to land a blow, Kit didn’t know or care as he stumbled further into his apartment. His eyes searched the darkness futilely, with a click of his fingers his lights came on and he was faced with the familiar dark eyes of Ambrose.

He was dressed in his usual suit, crisp and free of any wrinkles or creases. He wore a white shirt and a red tie today, a five o’clock shadow covering his jaw that somehow made his dark hair and eyes look darker.

Kit’s lip curled back as he threw his hands wide. “What the fuck! How did you even get in here?!”

Ambrose’s lips moved, but Kit couldn’t hear what he said over Bring me the Horizon playing at top volume in his ears. Kit’s anger dissipated as a realisation came over him and he laughed right in Ambrose’s face.

“Hey Rosey, can’t give me commands if I can’t hear you, dickhead.”

Ambrose tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes as Kit stuck his middle finger up at Ambrose. “Get out of my house, or I’ll give you electro-shock therapy free of charge.”

Take off your headphones, Mallory.

The command was like a snake made of ice slithering through his brain, his body reacting before his mind became aware of the order. Ambrose smiled as Kit’s expression turned sour.

Did you forget that I don’t need your ears to make you obey me, Kit? I just need your mind.

“Fucking show off,” Kit muttered, turning his headphones off and discarding them on his couch. He took off his jacket and did the same, deflating as his prospects of a nice quiet evening and a shower dissipated with his guest’s arrival. “I had a long day. Sue me.”

“Still, you forget your manners around me, Kit,” Ambrose said, beginning to remove his tie from his neck. Sensing the direction Ambrose was about to go down, Kit clicked his fingers quickly and was only starting to raise his hands when Ambrose ordered: “don’t move.”

Kit tried with everything in him to fight the order that settled thick over his body like cement, locking his limbs in place. His hands still sparked with electricity as Ambrose undid the knot of his tie, starting towards Kit.

“Listen, Rosey, I know you’re into some kinky shit, but doesn’t it have to be consensual? I get it, I’m a good-looking guy—”

“Stop talking.” Kit’s lips wired shut and all he could do now was glare up at Ambrose as he stopped in front of him. Ambrose smirked down at him. “You’re so much more palatable this way, Kit. You should consider never speaking again.”

You’re such a dick, Kit thought as loudly as possible, pointing it straight into Ambrose’s mind. Ambrose didn’t reply, his smirk staying on his face as he wrapped his tie around Kit’s neck. He looped it, once, twice and pulled it tight until Kit made a noise in the back of his throat, his breath getting slightly more laboured.

Kit glared at him as Ambrose said: “you may speak.”

“You piece of sh—” Ambrose pulled the tie even tighter until it cut off Kit’s words and tied a knot to secure it properly.

Ambrose chuckled as Kit coughed, his breath catching as Ambrose wrapped the loose end of his tie around his palm.

“Now,” Ambrose hummed, pressing a hand to Kit’s shoulder. “On your knees.”

“Are you serious?” Kit barked, his voice coming out harsh and breathy. Kit fought his shaking legs that ached to obey Ambrose’s order, glaring up into two dark eyes.

“As the plague, you need to learn respect, Kit. Which is why, from now on,” Ambrose grabbed Kit’s face with two hands, forcing Kit to look into his eyes that were enthralling and far too intense to look away from. “When you see me, you will fall to your knees.”

This time Kit dropped like an anchor, his knees smacking off the ground was the least of his concern. Ambrose yanked up on the tie and Kit was choking as his airways were cut off from oxygen. Kit wanted to reach up and claw at Ambrose’s arms; to try and relieve the pressure on his throat but his arms were still locked to his sides. His electricity cackled with his panic before weakening to dull sparks and dissipating altogether.

“See? This just feels right,” Ambrose hummed above him. “You would have the women flocking around you if you just shut up for once in your life. You look almost decent when you’re not running your mouth.”

Kit fought his way through a coughing reply. “Fuck… yo—ou—ou—.”

Ambrose yanked the tie harder and Kit airway was cut off completely. Kit gasped, struggling to breathe trying to pull in air through his nose but there was nothing coming. All thoughts left his mind replaced by a blinding, hot panic.

Kit’s desperation was plain on his face, pleading with Ambrose to let him breathe, but one glance at Ambrose’s coal-like eyes and he knew there would be no mercy.

“I can wait until you pass out and we can try this again, or you can submit to me, and we can move on. It’s your choice, dog. Blink twice if you’ve had enough.”

Kit glared up at him, trying desperately to hold out but his face was going purple, and he thought his head was going to explode. Hating himself, Kit blinked twice, and Ambrose stopped pulling on the tie.

“You can move,” Ambrose told him. No sooner had the words left his mouth that Kit fell forward, hands hitting the floor, gasping bucketfuls of air into his scorched lungs. He choked on the air as it overwhelmed his airways, falling further to rest on his forearms and knees, wheezing as he tried to collect himself.

“You-ou-ou,” Kit wheezed, punctuated by short coughs between, “fuck-king ah-arsehole.”

“Oh, stop flirting, Mallory,” Ambrose said waving the comment away.

Kit satisfied at the amount of oxygen he had now pushed himself back up to his knees. One hand on the floor he began to push himself up again, but Ambrose interjected: “ah-ah-ah. Stay on your knees, good dog.”

Kit wiped the tears from his face, sharpening his gaze to a glare. “I hate you.”

“Standing privileges are earned, Kit. Someone has to teach you manners now that your only parental figure is indisposed.”

Kit’s heart thrummed in his chest, a quick flash of anxiety and hurt at the easy comment. “You—” he began but no other words came to him as humiliation crawled hot and red up his neck and flooded his face.

“I?” Ambrose asked with a shit eating grin, sitting down in Kit’s favourite armchair and spreading out as if it were a throne.

Kit looked away from his coal-like eyes and turned his attention to removing Ambrose’s tie. Until Ambrose stopped him again. “Don’t touch your leash, doggie.”

“Quit calling me a dog!” Kit barked, running a shaky hand through his hair because he couldn’t do anything else.

“I’ll call you whatever I like, Mallory. That’s the beauty of being me. If you want to stop me, then stop me. If you want to disobey, then disobey.”

“I can’t,” Kit spat through gritted teeth.

Ambrose spread his hands in a shrug. “Well, that’s not my problem, is it?”

“It’s your orders I’m following!” Kit said hotly, looked away, his anger getting him nowhere. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath. “You know what, forget it. What do you want?”

“I missed you. Can’t an old friend come by and see his favourite pet?”

“Evidently you can do whatever you want,” Kit muttered, sitting back on his heels to alleviate the pressure on his knees.

“I’m glad we understand each other,” Ambrose hummed.

An easy silence fell over them, interrupted by Kit’s growling stomach which neither of them commented on. Kit just wanted a shower and food and his bed, to process everything that had happened at work. From his theorising with Tides, to interrupting his meeting Superhero was having with Mr Silver, to his argument with Superhero to put him on the rota for patrols.

“Not now, you’re still recovering.”

“I know myself,” Kit protested. “Put me down on patrols, Superhero. I’m fine! I wouldn’t be back at work if I was still sick!”

Superhero stared at Kit. Kit stared at Superhero imploringly. Superhero sat back with a sigh. “Okay. Fine, but you’re not patrolling the inner city. I’m putting you on residential.”

“But—”

“No buts, it’s residential or nothing.”

Kit pouted like a child, folding his arms across his chest and looking away. “Fine,” he said after a beat. Something was better than nothing.

Ambrose unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, drawing Kit’s attention to him. He had already unbuttoned his suit jacket before he sat down, and Kit scoffed.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”

“You really are so accommodating, Mallory.”

Kit glared at him. something strange struck him. “How’d you get into my apartment?”

Ambrose pulled out a key in reply. Kit shot forward, remembered he was on his knees and had to stop himself before he fell forward. “I made a copy of your key.”

“Yeah, I sort of got that,” Kit said, running a hand through his hair with a huff. “How’d you make a copy?”

“I asked you to give me your key and made you forget that I asked,” Ambrose replied as if it was the most casual thing in the world. “It really is easy to get what I want.”

“Must be nice,” Kit muttered.

Ambrose looked at the key, something flashing over his expression as he turned it over between his fingers. “You would think.”

Kit scoffed, crawling over to the kitchen. “Is this the part where you tell me how hard it is to be able to control everything and everyone to your will? Because I’m all out of sympathy for psychopaths today, so come again another day.”

He had only put the kettle on when Ambrose spoke again. “Come here, Kit.”

“Are you serious?” Kit whined, crawling back towards Ambrose. Kit stopped right in front of Ambrose, glaring into his impassive face. Ambrose reached forward and grabbed the end of Kit’s tie, yanking him up.

Kit yelped and shot his hands out, grabbing the red fabric with his hands trying to alleviate the pressure.

“Let go, Kit.”

“Wait, Ambrose, please. I—” I’m sorry didn’t come to his tongue, his pride wrestling with his self-preservation and winning.

Ambrose tilted his head, black eyes dancing with amusement. “You?” He prompted, wrapping the tie around his knuckles once.

Kit pinched his lips into a thin line, halfway between a grimace and a frown. “Look, I’m—”

“You’re a rude, insolent child?” Ambrose supplied, wrapping the tie around his hand again, drawing Kit up closer towards him. Kit was now high on his knees, his face inches from Ambrose’s. “You need to be taught some manners?”

Kit didn’t say anything.

“I think you—”

“Do you not like my rudeness?” Kit rushed out, straining his neck to try and get more air into his lungs. Ambrose’s death grip didn’t make it exactly easy to breathe. Ambrose tilted his head at Kit, a silent motion for him to continue. “You like that I fight back. You like that you’re able to be rough with me and make me submit because I hate you. I fucking despise you when you do it.”

“You are so bold.”

“And you like it!” Kit all but yelled. Kit cried out as the heel of Ambrose’s palm slammed up into his nose. Blood gushed instantly and Kit’s hands went to his nose instead of the tie, which Ambrose used to his advantage, tightening the tie until it cut off Kit’s air supply.

Ambrose got to his feet dragging Kit along the floor behind him until they cleared the couches. Ambrose released Kit in the open space of the living room, to gasp and curse and choke on blood.

“Don’t bleed on my suit, Mallory. Honestly, were you raised in a barn?” Ambrose asked, removing his suit jacket swiftly and undoing his cuffs as Kit pushed himself to his hands and knees. “Oh wait, I almost forgot. You’re from the Rookery, aren’t you? No wonder you have the manners of a swine.”

“Fuh— fuck off, Rosey.”

“Mmm,” Ambrose hummed, something dark in his tone. a dress shoe was flying towards Kit’s cheek, and he was thrown off balance, his shoulder hitting the ground hard. “That was rude, Mallory. Don’t worry. I’ll whip you into a model citizen.”

Another kick to the face and Kit was on his back on the ground. He didn’t have time to move or blink before Ambrose was on top of him, two molten black eyes gleaming down at him. Kit put his hands up, trying to push the villain off of him. Pain, anger and fear blunted his reflexes, leaving him dizzy and weak.

Ambrose didn’t touch him again. Instead, he started to slowly, methodically roll up his sleeves, his weight pinning Kit to the ground, knees straddling Kit’s waist.

“You know, Mallory, you caught me off guard the last time I was here. I mean, your connection to Mentor, how poetic could all this be, hmm? What sort of God hated you so much that he drew me to you, after I disposed of Mentor?”

“Shut up,” Kit hissed, throwing his fist up. Ambrose caught it and punched his nose. Kit cried out, warm blood beginning to gush again as he bucked his hips trying to throw Ambrose off.

“Manners, Kit. Your elder is speaking.” Ambrose chided with a sickening smirk, tucking his sleeve all the way to just below his elbow. “So, I decided to do some digging into you, into your— oh what did you call it? Your tragic backstory, and damn. Talk about pathetic. Not only did your parents not want you, but apparently neither did any of your precious heroes.”

“Shut up!” Kit roared, grabbing Ambrose by the shirt and planting his foot on the floor, bucking his hip and they went rolling until Kit was on top of Ambrose and started to rain down punches.

Ambrose threw his arms up, forearms protecting his face from Kit’s furious onslaught. Kit let out a roar as he punched, switching from his face to punch Ambrose in the stomach. He managed to get one solid hit on Ambrose’s solar plexus and Ambrose gasped, curling up as he gasped.

Kit’s nose curled up, grabbing Ambrose’s shirt and sending a nasty left hook to his jaw. Ambrose saw blood flying across his face, though it wasn’t his. Ambrose grabbed Kit’s tie and yanked him down. Ambrose slammed his forehead into the bridge of Kit’s nose and Kit cried out.

Ambrose used the distraction to flip them again, slamming his palm into Kit’s nose once more. Kit let out a harsh cry, kicking uselessly, struggling to get away, to get Ambrose off of him.

Ambrose laughed as Kit writhed beneath him, hands cupping his stomach where Kit had punched. If Kit could see right now, he would see the crazed look in Ambrose’s eyes, that were always so impassive or subtle. Splatters of blood painting his alabaster skin with bright red freckles that were starting to dry in.

“Fuck, Kit! This is why I just can’t leave you alone. You’re too much fun, you know that? If you were boring, maybe I’d’ve gotten bored by now, but no.” Ambrose leaned down, grabbing Kit by the collar of his shirt, fists twisting into the fabric. “Look at me Kit.”

It was more of a growl than a command, but still Kit obeyed. Tear-filled blue eyes met sparkling onyx and widened in fear. Ambrose looked insane in that moment, and something primal took over.

One of Kit’s blood-stained hands went to Ambrose’s wrist trying to dislodge it from his shirt while the other pushed at his crisp white shirt, trying to push him off.

“Look at you,” Ambrose whispered, cupping Kit’s cheek and digging him thumb into Kit’s cheekbone. “Knuckles beaten raw, nose broken, blood dripping down your lips and chin and still you try to fight me?”

Ambrose let out a boisterous laugh, verging on hysterical. His eyes narrowing as if Kit was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

“What makes you think you’d stand a chance against me? Like are you stupid? Delusional? Is there something wrong up here?” He asked, tapping Kit’s temple with his finger.

“I think…” Kit said, tightening his grip on Ambrose’s wrist. He sucked in a breath through his mouth, feeling the energy rippling in the air and his eyes turned a static red. “That you talk too much.”

Ambrose was thrown off of Kit before he had time to react. His back smacked off the wall with a dull thud before he slid down. Kit’s entire body cackled to life, his lights flashing in the apartment, his TV turning on and off. All the electrical appliances in the kitchen beeped and buzzed, sparks flying.

Kit got to all fours, gasping in laboured breaths through his mouth, his nose too clogged with blood to breathe through as his body thrummed with an uncontrollable energy. Sparks flew from every part of his body, even his blood which was dripping onto the wooden floor beneath him seemed to glow with the eerie red hue.

Ambrose let out a startled, broken laughter, his muscles spasming as he drew his knee to his chest with a wince. “Phew, Kit. You… you’ve got a dark side. You would be a truly, magnificent villain.”

Kit looked over his shoulder like some wild animal, baring his blood-stained teeth at Ambrose. “Make it stop,” Kit growled, his words filled with static. A particularly nasty strike of lightning erupted from his chest and Kit faltered, crying out. “AMBROSE! Make it stop! Please! Argh!”

Kit’s arms shook and faltered as another shockwave of red electricity thronged from him and he hit the ground. Ambrose watched, licking his lips as Kit fell again to the ground. He let out a soft scoff, pushing his back against the wall to get himself standing again. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and took a deep breath. he said, “Kit, stop using your powers.”

 Another shockwave of energy blasted from Kit, staggering Ambrose and pushing him back against the wall. Ambrose’s eyes narrowed. “Kit… hey. Kit! Shit.”

Kit cried out again as another wave of energy was torn from his body. Ambrose kicked Kit onto his back, grabbing the tie and pulling it taut. Kit gasped, wide eyes on Ambrose’s face, kicking out at his legs. “Ah, fuck. Kit! I’m trying to help you, stop … nng… fighting –”

Another red wave hit Ambrose square in the chest, and he was sent flying back against the wall again. The whites of Ambrose’s eyes disappeared completely, his lips turning a deep crimson red. “Kit. STOP using your powers.”  

Kit’s body went impossibly still. The only movement was aftershocks spasming through his body as he stared blankly up at the ceiling. His eyelids grew heavy when Ambrose stepped into view, his lips a bright red against his marble skin. It faded back to their normal colour, still more vibrant than most. Kit couldn’t really focus on them though, thoughts moving through his brain like sludge, heavy and muddled.

Ambrose crouched down beside him, pushing Kit’s hair off his forehead, almost tenderly. “That’s it, Kit. Just relax. I’ll make us that tea while you get your bearings, hmm?”

Kit didn’t move while he stood; he just rest his worn body while his tormentor left to go make him some tea. He wished in that moment that his electricity would consume him, tear through his veins and kill him swifter than an electric chair or a noose. When he closed his eyes they were still gleaming an unnatural red.

*~*~*~*~*

Continued here

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