#but this is still a nightmare to pull off

[juliettejwnewinesa]

Hi, can you do a Seongje fic where he goes home and finds his partner bruised and covered in blood, crying and trembling while trying to treat their injuries and he finds out some of the Union members beat her up after failing to do other things (iykyk) with her. And she asks him to stay the night, afraid of being left alone

“I’ll Burn It All Down”

Seongje x Reader | ~500 words | Complete

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You didn’t scream when it happened.

You tried to fight — clawed at arms too strong, shouted through the back alley with no light and no witnesses. Your throat was raw. Your breath burned. You only remembered the laughter. One of them had said you were "asking for it."

You spat blood at his face.

That’s what made him hit you. Over and over again. When his friend laughed, he tried to grab your shirt — said you should smile more. You didn’t remember the rest. Only the sound of footsteps that sent them running. Only the sting of gravel in your palms as you crawled away, not daring to look back.

It took you nearly an hour to walk home, blood smearing down your wrist, skirt torn, knees scraped. You unlocked the door with trembling fingers and locked it three times behind you. Only when you saw yourself in the bathroom mirror did you collapse.

Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

You were still shaking when Seongje found you.

"Y/N?"

His voice was so soft. Too soft. Like he already knew something was wrong the moment he stepped inside.

You didn’t answer.

"Where are you?"

The bathroom door was cracked open. You couldn’t find the strength to call out, but your small sob — the one you thought was quiet — must’ve been loud enough. He appeared in the doorway a moment later, and the look on his face when he saw you…

You’d never forget it.

"Y/N—" He dropped to his knees beside you, arms reaching out but not touching. "Baby, what—what happened?"

You couldn’t look at him. Your lip trembled. You were trying to stop the bleeding on your side, but your hands wouldn’t work.

"It was the Union," you whispered. "They found me."

His entire body went still.

"They—" You swallowed hard. "They said they were gonna ‘leave a message.’ One of them tried to touch me. Said you couldn’t protect me forever. That I was just a warm-up."

Seongje’s fists clenched. His voice dropped an octave. "Did they—?"

"No," you whispered. "Someone passed by. Scared them off. They just… hit me. A lot." A pause. "They said they'd finish it next time."

Your voice cracked.

"I’m scared, Seongje. I thought I was going to die."

That was the moment he touched you — really touched you — cupping your face so carefully like he was afraid to break you. You leaned into him instantly, shaking like a leaf.

"They're not gonna hurt you again," he said. "I’ll kill them first."

You didn’t know if it was a promise or a vow.

He didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night.

He carried you from the bathroom to the bed, cleaned your wounds with shaking hands. His jaw was locked the whole time, gaze lingering on every bruise like he was memorizing them — not to pity you, but to avenge you.

When he pulled your torn shirt away and saw the red handprint on your collarbone, he froze.

Then he exhaled. "That’s the last thing he’ll ever touch."

You let him help you change, holding your arms out like a child, letting him button one of his shirts over your bandaged skin. You didn’t want to be alone — not even for a second — so he stayed in your bed, wrapping his arms around you like a fortress.

You hadn’t stopped shaking.

"Will you stay the night?" you whispered, voice small.

He didn’t even answer. He just held you tighter.

You woke in the middle of the night from a nightmare — sweaty, panicked, your heartbeat racing. Seongje was already awake, his arms tightening around you the moment you whimpered.

"I’m here. I’m right here," he murmured into your hair.

You were crying before you could stop it. He let you. He didn’t tell you to quiet down. Just kissed your forehead and let the storm come out.

You hadn’t even realized what you were saying until the words slipped out.

"Don’t leave me. Please."

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. "I won’t. Not now. Not ever."

Then his voice turned darker.

"But I have to make them pay."

You nodded.

"Not tonight," he said, kissing your knuckles. "Tonight, I’m staying with you."

Two Days Later

You hadn’t left the apartment. Seongje made sure you had everything. Food, blankets, clothes — his voice always low and calm with you, even when his phone rang and his tone turned sharp the second he stepped into the other room.

He hadn’t told you what he was planning.

You didn’t ask.

But you knew the rage in him had only grown colder. Focused. His smile never reached his eyes now. His fists were bruised. His hoodie sleeves stained with blood he didn’t try to wash out.

When you asked if he was okay, he’d only answer:

"I'm getting there."

That Night

He came home later than usual.

There was blood on his knuckles again. A small cut on his cheek. His hoodie smelled like sweat and rain and smoke.

You rushed to him immediately. "Seongje—what happened?"

He pulled you into his arms before answering.

"They won’t be coming back."

You froze.

His voice was steady. Hollow. "One of them's in the hospital. The other two…" He didn’t finish the sentence. "They got the message. They won't breathe your name again."

You didn’t cry this time. You just leaned into him. "Did it help?"

His silence spoke volumes.

"Not enough," he whispered. "But it’s a start."

You guided him to the bathroom. Cleaned his wounds this time. You kissed the cut on his cheek and he closed his eyes.

"They should’ve never touched you."

"They didn’t get what they wanted," you said softly. "But they still took something. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel safe again."

"You will." He cupped your face. "I’ll make sure of it. I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that again."

You nodded, voice trembling. "Will you stay? Not just tonight… but always?"

"I’m already yours," he said.

And he meant it.

That night, when you pulled him into bed again, he was hesitant to touch you — like he thought you were still too fragile. So you kissed him first. You took his hands and placed them on your hips. You whispered: "It’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid of breaking me."

His lips were gentle. His hands traced every inch of you like you were sacred. He didn’t rush. Just held you through it all.

There was no sex — not yet. But there was intimacy.

You laid there wrapped in his arms, head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

For the first time in days, you weren’t afraid.

EPILOGUE

Later, Seongje stood on the balcony in the dark, a cigarette between his fingers, staring down at the city.

He’d buried his fists in someone’s face for every bruise you came home with.

But the rage didn’t leave him. It sat heavy in his chest like lead.

When he came back inside, you were asleep — curled in the blankets, wearing his hoodie, breathing softly.

He kissed your forehead again, whispering:

"If they ever touch you again, I’ll burn this entire city down."

And he meant that, too.

end

author's note: kinda did this at ike 6 am so idk if i showed that the union tried to do stuff with her like enough idk so im sorry i need.more cofee after this T_T ok ilysm

[ironcade]

simon & a kiss of comfort

When you roused from your sleep, the first thing you noticed was the cold spot beside you in bed. Blinking away the heaviness of slumber, you peered through the dark of your bedroom in hopes of spotting what was missing from your side. When you realized that your significant other was no one to be seen, you immediately began to slip from your bed.

The air was crisp, likely due to the hour of night. Your feet moved with no hesitation, padding down the wooden floors as you made your way to where you knew Simon was. Where he always went in the wee hours of the morning in hopes of not disturbing you. 

There, in the dark of the living room, a large and shadowy figure sat upon the couch. It was leaned forward, head buried in hands. You could barely make out much, but you knew all too well who it was on the couch. 

“Nightmares?” You called out softly, sleep still heavy in your throat as your voice came off scratchy and mildly hoarse.

Slowly, Simon raised his head to look at you. He had clearly heard you coming from the moment you’d climbed out of bed, but now he fully acknowledged you. In the pale streetlight that peered through the curtains, you could see the pain in his eyes. Long had you learned to read Simon, pick up on the little things that made him expressive. Few could see what you did, for no one knew him as well as you. 

There was no response initially from Simon, but you truly didn’t need one. Slowly, you made your way to the couch, taking your place beside him. Without hesitation, your hand moved to gently press against his back. It was a soothing touch, one he tensed up at initially, but then immediately relaxed.

“‘m fine,” Simon eventually muttered. However, the crack in his voice and the now easy to discern puffiness to his eyes said othered.

You tutted softly. “You know I hate when you lie to me,” you mumbled. There was no heat to those words.

He just grunted and looked down at the floor. There was only silence. You never rushed him to speak on things, especially the things that hurt. Instead, you began to gently run your hand across his bare back, tracing small and innocuous things into his flesh. Your eyes watched as his stoic face, one you were fortunate to know all too well, as he seemed to silently brood in his thoughts.

Eventually, he broke. “Almost lost John…” He started, his voice small. “Know it’s part of the job and all but don’t mean it didn’t fuckin’ scare me,” he explained. 

Those words had you leaning closer, now wrapping up your large boyfriend in your arms and pulling him into your side. He gave no resistance, allowing himself to fall to the side a little and press up against your frame. You then leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m sorry,” you started off softly. “You did mention this last deployment was… rough,” you hummed, words gentle. 

Simon nodded, his hazel eyes moving to peer at you in the dark. There was so much love and devotion in his eyes, but also years of pain and misery that haunted him in the dark. You could see the sorrow that threatened to consume him every night. 

Your hand moved to cup his cheek, bringing his head a little closer. You then softly placed your lips upon his rough, chapped lips. It was just a small action of comfort, a reminder that he is here and alive and loved. You then pulled back only a small distance. “John made it back though. You made it back,” you explained. “You are home and safe with me, Si. Those monsters that hide under your bed? They cannot touch you tonight,” you hummed. 

Then you leaned forward and placed another kiss on his lips. You were grounding him, bringing him back from the ledge his demons always tried to walk him towards. Your hands anchored him in reality and your warmth reminded him he was human. 

Simon lost himself in you. When the night got too dark and he was lost at sea, you were the north star that brought him home. As his lips continued to meet yours in a series of short, light kisses, he remembered exactly what brought him home every single day. 

You. The love you had for him. The love he sought to give you with every single breath he took.

[john] [johnny] [kyle]

[fandomwritesstuff]

Welcome Home

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Reynolds/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader Summary: Bob had started to sleep in your room after a bad nightmare. What he wasn't aware of was that you had met the Void and continued to meet him. One night that changes... (I'm bad at summaries) Warnings: Angst... The Void (I feel like he's a warning on his own), name calling/degrading. (I think that's it, let me know if I missed any) A/N: This is the first writing I've done in a while and the first that I'm posting to this account. (please be nice). I got the idea for this after a rough day and from the song Welcome Home by HELLYEAH. Also thanks to @em1i2a3 for inspiring me to actually post and not just keep this in my docs lmao. Word Count: 3,005

It was supposed to be simply helping a friend. Bob battled with nightmares, you knew that. So when he came to you after a bad one, shirt damp with sweat and fidgeting, you welcomed him in without hesitation. You wrapped him in your arms and soothed him back to sleep. 

What should have been a peaceful night, turned into a living nightmare for yourself. As Bob's hand accidentally brushed your skin, you met him.

The all consuming.

The darkness inside.

The Void.

He was unforgiving. Ruthless in his purpose.

To hurt.

To shame.

To just watch you suffer. 

Night after night. As Bob got the rest he deserved, you became alert, on edge. 

Bob didn't know, and you felt you couldn't tell him–not without changing how things were. You didn't want to risk him pulling away from you when you just started to get closer. When he just started to open up–when the bags under his eyes had started to disappear. 

It had become your routine. Bob would knock on your door like clockwork. Then he would just follow you to your room. John had called him a puppy the one night he saw it. You told him to fuck off.

You got used to it, the other side of Bob. The side he wasn't fully in control of, nor aware. The nightmares became standard for you. It was to the point you almost welcomed the familiarity of them–waiting to see which shame would drag you down each night. 

But tonight was different. 

Instead of being welcomed into an old memory you were met with your own room. Your bed was occupied with two familiar bodies, the new routine you had come to accept.

“W-what is this?” You found yourself asking the darkness surrounding the room. 

Even if he didn't show himself, you knew he was there. The one constant in the ever changing waves of your memories. The tides of your shame.

After looking around for a while, he finally stepped into the dim moonlight of the room. Staring at the figures in the bed as you once had been.

“It's what you've come to regret the most. The night this all began.” He paused glancing at you for a brief moment. A glint of amusement in his eyes.  “I should be offended, but I think we both know it's not meeting me you regret.” 

A sick feeling spreads throughout your body. You wanted to deny it–deny him. Deny that you didn't hate these moments as much as you should. 

However, the fact would still remain. That the only regret you have from that night is when Bob awoke in the morning. 

When he smiled and asked how you slept. When you noticed the bags under his eyes were gone and the tension in his shoulders had eased. When he looked more rested than you had seen weeks.

You smiled back and lied to him. Lied to his face, saying you slept fine. Lied by the omission of the truth.

It was the only thing you regretted, knowing you would then never be able to tell him. Not without backlash. Not without risking losing him. Not without unraveling the friendship you had come to treasure more than any other. 

You turned away from the bed, opting to stare into the darkness around you instead. A part of you hoping the scene would slip away. Fade into the emptiness around you.

You knew it wouldn't, though. You knew he wouldn't be that kind. He probably didn't know how. 

“Why didn't you tell him?” He asked, quietly appearing in front of you. He studied your face, knowing his question would only frustrate you. It was his sick game after all. One that you had come to play every night. Not fully willing, but not completely unwilling either.

“You know why.” You whispered, as if afraid Bob would wake and reset the memory again. 

“Oh, but you know I like it better from your lips.” He responded, moving closer once again. “Just as I believe you like to tell me, don't you?” He reached a hand out to brush along your cheek before curling his fingers under your jaw. 

His hand was surprisingly soft. Unexpected with his rough demeanor. The coolness was expected though. It matched the coldness of these rooms, of his core.

He used his hand to force you to look at him. A way of convincing you to succumb to his will and give him what he wanted. A way of taking out all other options. A reminder of his control in this game.

“I didn't want to lose him.” You spoke, meeting his eyes. 

“Oh, but that's not all. Finish your sentence.” He toyed with you, tilting his head, he moved his hand to grip your chin and tug lightly. You stumbled closer to him. You could see the gleam of his teeth as he smirked. Feel his breath fan over your face as he patiently waited for you.

“Or-”

“Ah, ah. From the beginning.” 

“I didn't want to lose him…” You broke eye contact before feeling a light tug once more, forcing them back on the white pinpricks in front of you. “Or you.” You finished, releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“There it is–the real shame.” While it was difficult to make out his physical features, you knew that his smirk had turned into a triumphant smile. His white teeth were always a stark contrast with the darkness that surrounded them. 

“I bring you comfort and that makes you uncomfortable. I’m the paradox that you can’t solv, the riddle you return to, in a vicious cycle. Because your weak mind can’t let go.” He dug in, dragging his free hand up your arm slowly, deliberately. Goosebumps followed in his wake as a shiver went down your spine. His hand rested on your bicep as he pulled you in closer. 

He enveloped you like a cool blanket on a warm day–comforting until you realize that it's frozen and you can't move.

“You can’t even tell if it’s Bob you like or just that he brings you closer to me.” 

“That’s not true.” Your murmured, voice small compared to his booming tone. 

“Really?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Bob’s my friend. I care about him. I like him for who he is… even the sides he can’t control.” 

“Especially that side.” The Void mocked and tears stung your eyes.

You jerked out of his grip turning to look back at the bed once more. You looked at Bob, who slept soundly. His peaceful look brought a smile to your face and you blinked away the tears. 

“What would he say,” the Void whispered behind you, “if he knew you looked forward to this?”His breath ghosted over your ear, and another shiver slid down your spine.

“I could bring him here.” He murmured into your other ear. “Make him aware.” 

“You wouldn’t.” Your voice cracked as you turned to face him. 

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” He asked with a chuckle, tilting his head. You clenched your fists at the thought.

You stayed silent, fearful of your next move. Fearful of him going through with his threat, uncertain of the emptiness of it.

“He won’t admit it aloud but he’s always been curious, you know?” The Void mused after a moment. 

“About what?” You asked, tumbling the domino that he left in front of you, unknowing what effect it would lead to. 

“Your biggest shame. He ponders it often. More than you think.” He took a step toward the bed. “What would he see if he lost control?

“I wonder what he would think if he knew he was a part of that shame now. He would probably be torn apart. Avoid you at all costs. Never understand how this has… helped you. In your sick little way.” 

“Enough.” 

“I’ve barely begun.” His words curled around you. “You think you’re close to him but you're still alone. Bob would never understand. Neither would the team. No one, but me. I’m all you have and that is just pathetic.” 

“Then what does that make you, a parasite?” You asked, glaring at him as he walked closer to Bob. 

“Careful now, remember who holds the power here.” He reminded you. A tension was growing in the air, but you were too tired to care. His games had worn on your last nerve. Leaving you to throw caution to the wind.

“No, I think you enjoy this just as much as I do. You alert Bob, you lose me. You really want to risk that? All ‘cause you’re afraid I understand you better than you want me to?” You stepped closer to him. The pinpricks of white narrowed in a glare. 

“You don’t know me.” He snarled. Despite that, you believed he was wrong. You knew his game, even when you played right into it. He thrived off misery and normally he could only torture Bob. Bob who was learning to tune him out. 

With you, he had more than just Bob to torture. A different target, to try tactics on. One who couldn't fight back as easily all the time.

“I may not know everything, but I know more than you think. If I’m so wrong then do it. Make him aware, show him my shame.” 

“Fine, but just know, you asked for this.” He told you, causing your eyes to widen as a groggy Bob appeared between the two of you. 

Your stomach dropped. Everything had backfired in seconds. 

“W-what's going on?” Bob stammered, eyes frantically looking around the room. “Y/n?” He stuttered out your name, eyes locking on yours 

“Oh no.” He moaned as he looked at the Void. “Y/n, I'm s-so sorry. I-I didn't mean t-to. I'll w-work on controlling it. It won't happen again. I'm sorry.” 

His apologies were a stab to the heart as it wasn't him who needed to say anything. He was curling in on himself, wrapping his arms around his body as if he could stop everything if he could just make himself small enough.

“It's okay, Bob.” You mumbled, slowly approaching him. You came to stand a few feet from him before the Void said anything.

“More than okay.” The Void purred, smirk returning to his face. He knew he threw you off guard and couldn't be more thrilled to see where this would lead.

“What does that mean?” Bob asked, poking his head up to look between you and the Void once again. 

“I can explain…” 

“Explain what?” His arms fell to his sides as he stood straighter. He was defensive. Confused. He took a step back from both of you.

“Bob, when you came to me the first night-”

“W-wait, you’ve– This isn’t t-the first time you’ve seen him?” He asked, pointing and motioning to the two of you.

“Nor would she like it to be the last.” The Void chuckled.

You shut your eyes, bracing yourself for his reaction. For him to lash out, yell, scream, get mad. 

But this was Bob. He wouldn’t yell, wouldn’t rage. 

He’d close down. Close off–shut everything else out.

That way no one got hurt. Everyone would be safe. 

He could deal with it alone. At least until he could talk to someone qualified if he even wanted to.

You opened your eyes and saw Bob staring at the bed. A realization came to him that this was the first night that he came to your room. His face fell, becoming unreadable.

“You regret it?” He asked softly, still not looking at you. “Letting me in that night?” His calm was somehow worse than anger. It wasn’t quiet, it was hollow. Bob looked numb. As if he had already rehearsed being the problem. Being pushed away. 

“No. If I did, I think the memory would start earlier.” You watched the confusion sweep across his face.

“Then w-what? What is it that y-you–” 

“I regret not telling you that I met him.” You motioned to the Void who had been oddly quiet. “I can’t say that I regret meeting him, though. He’s… it’s…” You trailed off, struggling to put your thoughts into words. 

“He’s what? A monster?” 

“No, he–”

“Ruins everything? Trust me, I know.” 

“No, you don’t, Bob. He’s…” You paused for a moment. Bob didn’t interrupt this time, waiting for you to finish. “He’s you. Or at least a part of you and I…”

“You what?” 

“Go on, tell him. Or should I?” The Void asked with a laugh, moving to stand closer to you. 

That was the last thing you wanted the Void telling him. It was your line to cross. 

While this wasn't how you wanted it to go, you would be damned if Bob learned of it from him. It was going to be your words–your truth. Not some potential lie told by the Void. 

Bob glanced between the two of you and you took a deep breath before speaking. 

“I love you, Bob. All parts of you.” 

“Even him?” Bob asked after a moment.

“Even me.” The Void purred, stepping in close behind you. His cold hand curling around your arm. 

The silence dropped over the room like a curtain. The scene around you shifted to just an emptiness. 

You lowered your head, unable to meet Bob’s wide, confused eyes any longer. You could feel him judging you, and while you couldn’t blame him, that didn’t make it hurt any less. 

A hand found its way to your chin, lifting it up.. Forcing you to meet Bob’s gaze once more. He had stepped closer, now but it was still just the Void holding you. 

“Of course he would find a way to ruin this.” He whispered in your ear. “Someone as broken as him, finding a way to love him, and he still hesitates. Still hides.” He taunted Bob. “Too scared to admit it even when it’s staring him right in the face.” 

You could see the internal battle in Bob’s eyes. He was inching closer to you, but every step was a question. His movements were slow, sluggish, and uncertain. As if he was on the edge of a burning building and he couldn't decide whether he should risk getting to you or just running for air.

The Void pulled your chin to look at him, but your eyes clung to Bob like a lifeline. 

“If he won’t do it, I will.” He spoke, causing you to look at him just as he crashed his mouth against yours. The kiss was harsh and rough, he used his teeth to gain access to your mouth. There was no care in it, as he just took what he wanted. And you let him.

His lips were rough and cracked. You closed your eyes and leaned into his chill, your hand coming to grip his wrist as he tightened his hold on your chin.

When he pulled away, heat filled your cheeks. You slowly opened your eyes and the Void laughed behind you. 

“Look at her,” He spoke, tilting your head to face Bob once more. “Like a stunned little doe.” 

“Let her go.” Bob’s voice cut through the darkness. Louder now, steadier.  

Suddenly, you awoke back in your bed. Bob sat at the edge, his back to you. He was hunched over, face in his hands.

“Bob?” You whispered, inching closer to him. Scared that if you moved too quickly that he would pull away like a scared cat. 

Dragging his hands down his face, he glanced over his shoulder at you before looking away once more. You kneeled behind him and slowly wrapped your arms around him. He tensed beneath you which only made you grip on to him tighter. 

“I meant what I said… in there.” You whispered. 

Bob shut his eyes tight, as if it hurt to consider believing you. He didn’t know what to believe. How could anyone love that dark side of him, the side that didn’t feel like him, the side that he couldn’t control?

It felt like a trick to him. There’s no way someone as nice and kind as you could ever love him. Love any part of him. Let alone the darkness. How could he ever believe that?

Yet part of him did. He saw that love struck look. The look you gave him after the Void kissed you. The dazed look of surprise but acceptance. He couldn’t believe that the Void would latch on to someone else like this. He constantly reminded Bob that they would end up alone, that no one would ever truly love him. Yet, he called Bob an idiot for not jumping at the chance to be with you. 

It was too much, too fast. Bob needed space, needed air. His chest felt tight. He could hear you speaking but the words weren’t registering. 

“Breathe, Bob. You need to breathe.” You spoke, rubbing his chest. 

Abruptly, Bob sucked in a gasp of air. You continued to rub soothing circles on his chest, giving him time to recover. One of his hands moved to hold your arm and he glanced back at you again. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. You didn’t know what for. He probably didn’t either. 

“No, I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner…” You trailed off for a moment. “That I met him. That I love you.” 

He managed a weak smile and nodded. 

“You don’t have to say it back. You can take the time you need, just promise me that you won’t shut me out.” You spoke after a moment. 

Bob’s gaze sharpened, telling you what he couldn’t say out loud as he adjusted in your arms to face you more. 

“I won’t.” He promised. 

He then wrapped his arms around you–slow, deliberate. 

“I… I don’t think I could figure this out without you.” He whispered. 

“Then we’ll figure it out,” You spoke softly. “Together.” 

You then tightened on your hold once more. Not sure you ever wanted to let go again.

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Pomegranate | Nikolai x F!Reader

Chapter 9

You wake up in the hospital

cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, physical assault

Masterpost

The hospital room looked more like a hotel room. The lights were white and sterile but the curtains were a pleasant green color and besides the hospital bed the furniture looked more comfortable than a regular hospital. There were generic floral art prints on the wall. Nikolai had opened a window so he could smoke out of it. He’d already been scolded by several nurses. “I pay for the room. I use the room.” He shrugged. It had been two days of silence between the two of you. 

It hurt to talk but you don’t think you’d have anything to say to him anyways. You didn’t expect an apology yet his silence bothered you. He’d only occasionally rise when he thought you’d fallen asleep to brush the hair from your face and rest the back of his hand against the unbruised side of your face. You had to stop yourself from flinching every time.

Other times he stared at you despondently. You hoped he knew his fault. Everything that happened this past week from John’s celebration to now was his fault.  

You had multiple rib fractures, a punctured lung, broken sternum and bruised organs. You had arrived at the hospital just to go into surgery immediately. Recovery would take months. You had no where to go after this. You knew where you'd end up, it wasn't where you belonged but did you belong anywhere anymore?

You broke the silence first. Drifted off into a nightmare about Arno. You were back in that room, tied to a chair as he used the claw of the hammer to pull your stomach open.

You woke up sobbing. Nik was dabbing a tissue across your cheeks. You yelped when you opened your eyes to his face. There was a flash of sadness across his face. He stepped back. 

“Arno’s dead?” You needed to confirm that there was no chance of him coming after you again. 

“He is.” He pulled a chair up next to you. “You’re safe.”

You shook your head and frowned at him, “I’m not.”

He would never let you go. You both knew that. He couldn’t. You knew too much about him. You’d gone too far into his world, ate from his hand. You’d never be free of him now. Live in this hell with him. Wherever you went from here was under his eye. A new set of tears blinked down from your lashes. 

“You are safe with me.”

“I’d rather you just kill me.” You spat. “I’d rather be dead than be your whore again.”

“Don’t say stupid things. You’re not stupid.” He shook his head.

“I want you to leave.” You said quietly. “I want to be alone.”

“Kotenok.” His tone was scolding. 

“Get out!” It hurt to yell. It hurt to be in the same room as him. “I want you out! Leave!”

His jaw twitched but he grabbed his coat and left, slamming the door behind him. 

You laid back down in bed and cried. The next weeks were full of crying. Your body slowly healed, putting itself back together. 

Nikolai had your favorite foods sent up to your room. A television was added to your room once you could stay awake for longer than twenty minutes. A pile of bags filled with nice, comfortable clothes sat unworn in the corner. Nurses checked on you regularly. 

“Your husband sent flowers again,” one said, setting a vase down on the side table. It was a nice bouquet, none of your favorites but pretty. Very Nikolai. “He calls us every day to check on you. You’re lucky. Lots of women go home to empty houses after stays this long.”

“Guess I am.” You agreed halfheartedly. Every millimeter of this room had his tendrils dug in. You could tell the truth and never see this woman again. Better to spare you both. You found yourself staring at odd places, wondering where he hid the camera. 

Two months pass and suddenly you’re ready to be released with orders to take it easy for another month and keep an eye out for infections. 

Nikolai meets you in the hallway outside your room. You’re still unsteady on your feet. The nurses could only get you out of bed a couple times a day to make a couple loops around the room. He extends an arm and you take it. 

It’s your turn to be the despondent one. You follow him inside like a dog. It’s the door to the garage shutting behind you that pulls a sob out. You sink to the floor on your hands and knees. 

“Nik…” You tried to make sense of all the thoughts in your head, make them make sense between sobs. “I’m tired. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t. I don’t want to have to fuck you to live. It’s humiliating and…and… I don’t feel human. I don't want to be a thing. I want to be myself again…I can’t be what you want and I don’t want to be.”

You arms gave out and you face planted against the rug, clutching at your aching chest. He started to lift you back up by the shoulders.

“Let go! It’s your fault! He did this because of YOU!” You pushed his hands away and curled up on your side, bringing your knees up to your stomach. You started to cry, “You did this. You did.”

His voice was so soft you thought you’d misheard him. He got down on a knee beside you and said your name again. Your real name. Not the fake one you gave him weeks ago. Your shoulders deflated. You didn't fight him when he pulled you into his arms and lifted you bridal style.

It wasn't that your body ached, your heart did. You were slipping back down into whatever hole he'd dug for you. You clung to his shirt like you'd be able to use it to pull yourself back up knowing he'd never let you.

He sat you down on the counter in his bathroom. You watched as he started to fill the tub. Bottles of soap, shampoo and conditioner sat on a little stool. A fluffy white robe sat folded beside you.

"Take your time." He said before leaving you alone.

You did. The last time you had a bath had been with Nikolai and that felt like a lifetime ago. You washed your hair slowly, detangling each strand. You rubbed your skin raw and sat in the water till your fingers and toes pruned up.

The robe was soft, you didn't expect anything less. Nik was good at spending money so of course the robe would feel like a cloud around you.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, only looking up from the floor when you walked in. He looked disheveled, sweat beading on his brow and flecks of hair standing on end.

"Can I leave?" You already knew the answer. You'd had this conversation a million times in your head. You couldn't find a single circumstance that would allow you to walk away from him. Even with the most kindhearted version of him you could imagine, he'd only give you a longer leash.

He looked sad when he answered with a shake of his head, "No."

You wished you had something to throw. All those chances you had to hurt him earlier rushed past you. You could never hurt him like he'd hurt you.

"What now then? You going to chain me to your bed? Kill me yourself? Share me with whatever disgusting fucking friends you have? What Nik? What happens to me now?"

"You stay here or one of my other houses."

You shoved him, unexpectedly for him as he had to scramble to catch himself from falling off the bed. You took your chance and jumped on top of him, swinging wildly at his face landing a hit or two. You only wished you were stronger - make him bleed a little.

The two of you rolled off the bed with a loud thud. Rolling around on the floor as he tried to hold you down while you flailed your arms and legs around, landing more hits on whatever soft spots you could reach.

"Stop this!" He snapped, finally getting your wrists in his hands and slamming them to the floor beside your head. You screamed, something angry and animalistic , spit flying out of your mouth to land on his face.

"I hate you!" You snarled.

Nikolai let go of your wrists and got up from on top of you. He offered a hand but didn't insist when you got up on your own.

"I have a property in Italy. East coast. You'll move there tomorrow. You can have whatever you want there. I will check in but I won't touch you. You'll be safe there."

"Will I?"

"I've killed too many men for you to not be." He smoothed down his hair. "Get some sleep. I'll have your things packed in the morning."

"Kolya…"He stopped with his hand on the door and turned back with a twinge of anger. Your voice grew wet again,"Why are you doing all this for me? I..I don't understand."

"I don't either." He left, locking the door behind him.

His bed felt smaller without him. You huddled to one side. Couldn't shake the feeling that you were rocking back in forth in a very small boat. It smelled like him and you pulled over his pillow to hold against your chest.

Something more frightening than Nikolai's indifference was the possibility that he did truly care about you. Loved you even. If he was even capable of such a thing. Had he ever loved someone before? Been married? Did he have children stowed away somewhere? A girl in every corner of the world ready to warm his bed.

Don't dwell on it, you said to yourself. He wasn't letting you go but you'd be rid of him for a little bit. It wouldn't be a shack, Nikolai was too proud for that. A whole house just to yourself and you wouldn't have to fuck him for it. He said he'd visit but how often would that even be? Less than once a week but more than once a year. Seasonally you could handle. That would be okay. To see him as the seasons changed. You didn't speak Italian, you could learn but that would take time.

Being alone scared you.

All the clothes he'd bought you before were packed up in a pile of suitcases in the downstairs hall. He'd left a change of clothes for you by the bedroom door. Just jeans and a sweater.

You didn't talk as you watched him load the suitcases into the car nor did you talk when he pulled onto the tar mac and ushered you into a small private plane. You hadn't been on a plane in years. They always frightened you a little bit.

During take off you clutched the arm rests of your seats till it hurt to uncurl your fingers. Nik stared at you from across the aisle.

"It's safe. I promise. I read over the inspections myself."

"You know a lot about planes?"

"Flew them when I was in the army." You nodded along, still keeping your hands on the armrests.

The plane hit turbulence over the Alps. You yelped loudly as it dropped several thousand feet. Nik was at your side in a moment, buckling himself back in beside you.

"It's okay." He murmured, testing the waters by laying a hand over yours. "Only a little bit longer. If I knew you were afraid I would have gotten you something."

You gave him a hard look, "You think I would ever take drugs from you again?"

He sucked his teeth. You wouldn't let him think you'd forgotten. He didn't move back to his own seat for the remaining hour and a half.

This house of his was much more remote than you initially thought. After landing you took a private car to a dock where you were loaded on a boat with all your things.

"You didn't tell me you were sending me off to nowhere."

"Island is safer."

You preferred boats to planes, you realized. You stood on the deck looking over the Adriatic sea. Nik was close by, leaning against the cabin. It was cold but not London cold. The sea smelled fresh and the wind kissed your cheeks and played with your hair. You spread out your arms, in the vain fantasy that it would carry you away. It was beautiful and terrifying and you loved it.

The house was beautiful. White plaster and stone with a flat roof. It was all white on the inside with tan colored tile floors. Multiple bedrooms, a large kitchen, a pool outback. It sat on a hill so you could see the ocean from the back garden.

"You can replace whatever furniture you want. There's cards and cash in the desk. The phone on the wall is directly to me. You need anything or something happens call me. I'll check in when I can."

"You're not afraid of me leaving?"

"No." He chose an island for a reason. Only one way off - boat either ferry or charter and you imagined he'd thought that through. "Fridge is stocked. Town is a short walk…"

He kept talking, pointing out important details. You stopped paying attention, just staring at him. This was how it was going to end. You in this house alone. He hadn't packed anything for himself. He would be leaving soon. Even that afternoon.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you hurried outside. You didn't want him to see. You walked till you reached the edge of the garden, a small cobblestone wall marking the edges of your cage. You could hear the waves crash against the shore down below.

You didn't want him to stay, didn't even want to look at him but if he left he might forget about you. Another blip in his life.

You heard your name. It still felt strange hearing him say it. It was the name of a you that no longer existed.

"Do you promise you'll come back?" He raised his eyebrows at your question before softening his features.

"Yes." He stepped closer and wiped his thumb across your cheek. "Whenever you call, I'll come."

You started to cry harder. It was too romantic, too intimate. You were broken down in so many pieces you couldn't help but cut yourself whenever you tried to pick them back up. You didn't want him. You didn't want him around but you desperatly didn't want to be alone. Not now in this strange place.

"Why are you doing all this?" You pleaded for a real answer. Something to explain all these feelings. You didn't want him to come back expecting you to display yourself for him. He couldn't be your next Arno.

"I want you to feel safe here." He cupped your face. "No one will hurt you again."

He kissed the top of your head and pulled you into his chest. You held on tightly to his shirt.

"I have to go."

"No…no…not yet please. Please Nik."

"I have to."

"How long?"

"I don't know." He pulled your hands off of him and laid them against your own chest. "I'll be back. I promise."

You stood there, salt air playing with your hair again. He moved hurriedly across the garden and back into the house.

You resisted calling. There was an absence but you convinced yourself it could be filled by anyone, not just him. You left the house regularly, picked up some Italian, left the local bookshop with a stack of children's books. You cooked for the first time in a year. Learned to make pasta from a local Nona who took pity on you.

They'd ask why you were in that big house all by yourself and you'd say your husband traveled for work - months at a time even. You joked about how he at least left his card with you.

And he did. You didn't redecorate but you bought clothes and books and small things from the local artisans. You started to fill out. No more protein bars and gruel. You ate fresh fish and hand made pasta and roasted vegetables. Sometimes you'd sit in the back garden, over look the ocean and cry as you ate. You couldn't remember ever eating something this good.

You cried a lot but it felt good after a while. Not being afraid of letting it all out. You cried during almost every movie you watched, every book you read. You cried in the shower and in your bed. You'd swim for hours just to hide the tears in the chlorine. You cry till it becomes easier to smile.

There's a fire place in the main living room and across the mantel you laid out shells - one for each one of the girls you met at the club. You hoped they were happy and learning to smile as well. You missed them.

It was a cool summer afternoon when you heard Nikolai's car pull up. You were sat on the floor of the kitchen, staring into the oven's glass, watching your bread slowly rise and brown.

There was a twinge of guilt over not calling him. You wondered if he'd just gotten back or it he just got tired of waiting on you. It was late June and you hadn't seen him since February. Spring had come and gone without him.

He knocked on the door, which was unexpected. He took up the entire doorway. He has a bag slung over his shoulder this time. He looked thinner in the face, his one hand was bandaged up.

"Can I come in?"

You nodded and moved out of the way for him.

"You didn't change much."

"I like it how it is."

He follows you to the kitchen.

"You didn't call."

"I didn't need to."

His bag was left in the bedroom furthest from yours.

He made a fire in the living room. The two of you sit around the coffee table with a spread of cheese, meat, tin fish, wine and still warm bread. You notice he winces when he moves his left arm too much.

"You're hurt." You held your hands in your lap, stopping yourself from reaching out to him.

"Not badly." He shrugged, tearing off a chunk of bread and stuffing it in his mouth.

"What would happen to me if…"

"If I die?" He finished. You nodded.

"You'd be free of me." The corner of his mouth turning up in a small smile while his eyes betrayed it with a glint of sadness. He poured himself another glass of wine and drank it down quickly. You grabbed the bottle and pulled towards yourself and finished it off - it was only a glass or so more.

You remembered the night he took care of you after Marcus beat you for the last time. How you were curled up to his side, eating pizza and drinking wine. You felt safer with him then than you did now. You still got up and fetched another bottle.

Rain began pelting down as you drank. Storms were harsh here. Thunder shook the house and if you stuck your head outside you could hear the waves crashing harshly. You jumped as lightning etched across the sky.

Nikolai grabbed your wrist, rubbing his thumb across your veins reassuringly. You didn't tug away, let him pull you in towards him. Your back against his chest. He played with the ends of your hair. You watched the storm, how the lightning hit the waves. Every drum of thunder had you shifting in his hold. He fed you pieces of cheese and bread.

It all felt off. You still had so much anger towards him. You wanted to hate him but something stopped you. You couldn't hate him, not forever. Sure, he could die tomorrow or in thirty years. You'd be here for however long that was. You could lock your heart away, let the lonely ache stay. Or you could pick up old habits.

You leaned up and kissed his jaw, stubble pricking at your lips. He took your chin between two fingers and tugged your bottom lip down. Your hand was on the back of his neck.

It was the softest kiss you'd ever shared. His touch was gentle as he turned you over to straddle him. He kept his hands above your waist, no grinding against you. Just kissing,

You broke first, resting your hands against his chest.

You were in a little boat, being tossed about in the ocean outside. Despite it all Nikolai was the only solid thing to hold on to. He came back for you, he offered you up to Arno but he came back. He killed them all for you.

"N- Kolya?"

"What can I do?"

"Can we go to bed?"

"Of course." He grabbed hold of the top of your thighs and lifted you up as he stood. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

He laid you down on your bed, letting you get settled before climbing over you. He nuzzled your neck and it all felt off again. He nipped at you and pushed back against his chest.

"Stop please I can't. I can't do this." Your stomach churned violently as fear overran you. You were shaking, rapidly pulling yourself up from underneath him to cower on the far corner of your bed. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

You held your hands up to protect yourself as you tucked your head between your knees.

"It's okay, shhh, it's okay." He cooed. "Did I hurt you?"

"YES!" You sobbed, flinching when you felt the bed shift. "You let him touch me! You gave me back! You pissed him off and gave me back! You knew he would hurt me! You let that happen!"

You were heaving out sobs, drool dripping down from your mouth, swinging a hand at Nikolai whenever he tried to reach for you.

"I trusted you! I shouldn't have but I did. Now I'm going to fucking die here! I don't even understand why you're doing this! Fuck! I'm so fucking scared, Nik. I'm scared of you."Waiting for the shift, where he'd finally grow tired of you. Take what he wanted and discard you. Like Marcus did. You were a whore who couldn't fuck. He'd made it clear how he thought of women like you. Useless and a waste.

"You don't have to be afraid of me." He'd moved off the bed, standing by the edge and leaning down to meet your eyes. "You can trust me. I just want to keep you safe."

"How can I believe that? I watched you kill Marcus and Arno. Why won't I be next?" You could hardly catch your breath.

"Because I love you!"

[t4kalcvr]

WHERE THE WAVES BREAK

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐊𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀 word count :: ( 11,850 ) genre :: fluffyyy, angsty, && romance content contains :: deceased parents, drowning, surfing, fights mentioned, arguments, and more stuff!! part two right here !!

₍^. .^₎⟆

the sun hadn’t even cleared the edge of the rooftops when haruka sakura cracked one eye open.

his room was dim, barely lit by the early morning haze filtering through half-drawn blinds. the air was still, save for the hum of distant cicadas already starting their endless summer chorus. his blanket was shoved to the floor, kicked off in the middle of the night, and his phone vibrated once against the floorboards — unread messages from the bofurin group chat that he had no intention of opening before brushing his teeth.

he sat up, bones cracking, shirt rumpled and halfway twisted from sleep.

another day. same shit.

he ran a hand through his messy hair and grabbed the black hoodie hanging off the back of his desk chair. it smelled faintly like sweat and summer rain. whatever — it worked. he pulled it on and stood, giving a lazy glance toward the window. somewhere, just out of sight, kids were probably already skating down the street or dragging their feet toward school.

haruka didn’t care.

he wasn’t like them.

not really.

routine came next: a half-assed stretch, two mouthfuls of cold water from the tap, a slice of bread from the fridge he didn’t bother to toast, and then silence as he stepped out into the narrow hallway of the apartment. no parents calling after him, no sound of breakfast cooking, no cheerful good mornings.

just the heavy thud of his footsteps down the stairs, and the city already buzzing beneath him.

he liked it better this way. alone.

no expectations. no one to disappoint. no one to get in the way.

he tugged his hood over his head and jammed his hands into his pockets, letting the early heat of the pavement soak through the soles of his shoes as he started down the hill. there was no real plan — maybe a stop at the usual convenience store, maybe a detour to the gym before anyone annoying showed up. either way, he kept moving.

haruka sakura didn’t slow down for anyone.

not anymore.

₍^. .^₎⟆

the alarm buzzes at 5:42 a.m.

not because you like waking up that early, but because that’s the latest you can afford to sleep and still make the day work.

the room is dim and quiet, except for the soft whirring of a box fan tucked against the window. you sit up slowly, rubbing your face with both hands, eyes still heavy with sleep. your back aches from falling asleep sitting up against the couch again — you meant to move to your bed, but your brother had a nightmare and ended up curled up next to you sometime after midnight.

you don’t mind. not really.

your bare feet meet the cold floor as you stand. you move on autopilot. eggs first. toast next. orange slices if there are any left from the last grocery run. everything done quietly so your little brother can sleep a few more minutes. the kitchen light flickers on with a faint buzz, and the sound of the pan warming up fills the silence.

you glance at the clock.

6:09.

time to wake him.

you pad softly to the bedroom, nudging the door open with your elbow. the little lump in the bed is still there, tangled in a blanket and clutching one of the worn-out plushies your mom bought years ago.

“hey,” you whisper, crouching down beside him. “breakfast is ready. come on, baby.”

he groans and buries his face in the pillow, but you smile. gently, you brush his hair back and press a kiss to his forehead. “you’ve got ten minutes. if you’re not up by then, i’m blasting music and dancing. horribly.”

that gets a muffled laugh.

back in the kitchen, you make two plates. one smaller, cut into pieces. you pour a glass of milk and a cup of instant coffee. your phone buzzes with a message — nothing important. you don’t answer.

your brother finally appears, rubbing his eyes and dragging his blanket like a cape.

“eat, then brush your teeth,” you say softly. “uniform’s already laid out. shoes too.”

he nods sleepily. you watch him for a second. he looks so much like your dad. or maybe you’re just remembering it that way.

after the dishes are rinsed, the backpack zipped, and his hair combed down flat, you grab your wetsuit and the board that’s been leaning against the corner near the door.

your favorite part of the morning is always after you drop him off at school. not because you don’t love him — god, you do — but because the ocean is the only place you don’t have to think. don’t have to carry so much.

just waves. water. sky.

freedom.

you slip on your headphones, sling your board under one arm, and lock the door behind you.

the streets are still sleepy. the salt is in the air.

you’re double-checking your brother’s backpack when you hear voices outside your building — loud, familiar ones you’ve heard echoing down the street before. usually from the rooftop next door or during weekend scuffles in the alley when boys try to prove who can hit harder.

you step out, keys in one hand, backpack in the other. your little brother follows close behind you, his sneakers thudding lightly against the concrete.

a group of boys stands outside the building next to yours — all tall, loud, a little chaotic. you recognize them. haruka’s friends. you’ve seen them around. one of them is already halfway up the stairs, knocking on haruka’s door like he owns the place.

“he’s not home,” you call out casually, tossing your board into the bed of your truck. the words come before you even think about them.

they pause, heads turning.

“what?” one of them says — wide grin, messy hair, way too much energy for this hour.

“he walked out like ten, maybe fifteen minutes ago,” you say, adjusting your brother’s backpack strap. “headed down the street toward the convenience store. hoodie up, hands in his pockets. same as always.”

they blink.

you’re not sure if it’s surprise or confusion that colors their faces. maybe they didn’t expect anyone to answer. maybe they didn’t expect you.

“oh—uh, thanks,” one of them finally says, scratching the back of his head. “you his neighbor or somethin’?”

you nod once, then glance down at your brother and nudge him toward the passenger seat.

“cool. uh—thanks again,” another boy calls out, and they start walking off, some arguing over who’s going to text him first.

you don’t wait to hear the rest. you slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine.

it’s nothing.

just neighbors.

just directions.

still, you catch one of them glancing back at your truck as you pull off down the street, surfboard rattling lightly in the back, like maybe they’re wondering how much you actually know about the boy with fists like bricks.

truth is — not much.

but you notice things.

and sometimes, that’s enough.

₍^. .^₎⟆

the overhead lights in the convenience store buzz like a fly trapped in a jar. harsh and too white, even for him.

haruka stands near the drink coolers at the back, a can of black coffee already sweating in his hand. he hasn’t paid yet. hasn’t moved in five minutes, really — just standing there, hood up, earbuds in, letting the sound of drums drown out everything.

a group of middle schoolers walks past, laughing too loud. one of them bumps into his shoulder and apologizes without looking back.

he doesn’t say anything. just watches them go.

his phone buzzes. once. then again. and again.

he exhales slowly through his nose, pulls it from his pocket, and swipes the lock screen open with muscle memory more than thought.

rando neighbor girl knew where you went lol.

said u walked off down the street like 15 mins ago.

kinda scary how she clocked it exactly.

also she surfs. didn’t know that.

haruka stares at the screen.

he doesn’t respond.

he tosses the can of coffee in the basket at the register and waits in line, jaw set like it always is — half annoyed, half tired. but there’s a flicker in his brain now. a voice threading through the static of his morning.

neighbor girl. surfing. fifteen minutes ago.

he tries to place you. tries to remember your face — but it’s just vague outlines and passing glimpses. someone dragging a board past the building. someone with headphones in. someone with calm eyes and heavy steps.

he hadn’t realized you noticed him.

he hadn’t been looking.

maybe he should’ve been.

he pays, nods once at the cashier, and steps back out into the morning.

the sky’s brighter now. warmer. annoying.

he pops the tab on the can, takes a long drink, and starts walking.

toward nothing. toward everything. he doesn’t know.

but the waves are probably breaking by now.

and for some reason, he thinks of you — all quiet and sharp and slipping past him like a shadow.

by the time he makes it back to the apartment, the coffee can’s empty and warm in his hand, his hoodie sticking to the back of his neck from the heat crawling up the pavement.

he doesn’t expect the door to be unlocked.

doesn’t expect to hear voices inside, either — loud ones, echoing off the walls like they own the place.

he pushes the door open and sees all of them piled in like it’s nothing. shoes left at the door. bags tossed in the corner. someone’s already eating his chips.

“yo! finally!” ren says, halfway through a sandwich from the store downstairs. “took your damn time.”

“door was locked,” haruka mutters, kicking his shoes off and stepping inside.

“barely,” umemiya grins, sprawled out on the floor like a cat in the sun. “you’re late to your own house, bro.”

“tch,” haruka clicks his tongue but doesn’t argue. he just drops onto the edge of the couch and rests his head back for a second. they’re already too loud. too awake.

“anyway,” hayato starts, leaning forward with too much energy, “we were thinking—beach.”

“what.”

“you heard me,” he smirks. “waves are good today. figured we could mess around for a while. maybe run some drills. maybe not. mostly just not.”

“c’mon,” ren adds. “we haven’t had a chill day since that last fight, and i’m tired of sweating in the gym. let’s hit the beach. bet sakura’s too chicken to get in the water.”

“i’ll drown you,” haruka says flatly.

they all laugh.

someone throws a towel at his face.

“surf girl’s probably down there too,” umemiya throws in, casual but watching him closely. “the one who said you left this morning. she’s got a board. truck was packed.”

haruka blinks.

doesn’t say anything.

he stands up and grabs his phone off the floor.

“fine.”

“that’s it?” hayato grins. “you’re in?”

haruka shrugs, pulling his hoodie off and heading to his room. “if you’re gonna be idiots, might as well do it in the sun.”

behind him, someone lets out a whoop. someone else turns the speaker up.

and just like that, they’re moving — backpacks packed, towels slung over shoulders, teasing and yelling and stomping down the stairs like a parade nobody asked for.

haruka walks in the back of the group, quiet, sipping the last drop of coffee, letting the voices fade into white noise around him.

surf girl. neighbor. you.

he still doesn’t know your name.

but maybe today, he will.

₍^. .^₎⟆

you drop your brother off just before the bell rings.

he waves, small and sleepy, backpack straps too big for his shoulders. you watch him disappear through the school gates before pulling away from the curb, your fingers drumming against the steering wheel, the radio low and full of static.

your chest doesn’t unclench until you see the water.

the truck rattles a little as it rolls onto the gravel lot overlooking the beach — quiet, tucked into a pocket of the coastline not many people claim this early. you know it by heart. every dune. every tide shift. every crack in the stone path leading down to the sand.

you park under the shade of a leaning pine and kill the engine.

suddenly, it’s just you.

you pull off your hoodie, change quickly behind the open door, tug your wetsuit up over your hips and zip it halfway. the breeze is soft, brushing salt against your skin like something familiar. something kind.

board waxed. leash checked. you slide your phone into the glovebox and shut it with a soft click.

the rest of the world stays up there.

you walk down to the beach barefoot, board under one arm, towel slung over your shoulder. the sand is cool this early, not yet burned by the sun, and the waves roll in slow and steady, soft like breathing.

you paddle out past the break, muscles remembering the rhythm even though your mind is still heavy with everything you had to do just to get here.

but now, there’s just the ocean.

no rent.

no alarms.

no grief hanging from your shoulders like soaked clothes.

just water.

you catch a small wave, nothing wild. just enough to glide.

just enough to feel free.

and as you paddle back out again, hair clinging to your cheeks, you squint toward the shore — and see movement. a group, loud and chaotic, descending the path like a wave of noise crashing against your quiet morning.

you don’t recognize most of them.

but one walks slower.

head down. hoodie in one hand. jaw sharp, gaze somewhere distant.

him.

you look away first.

not because you’re nervous.

just because the ocean needs your focus more than he does.

for now.

₍^. .^₎⟆

the beach’s quiet doesn’t last long after his friends hit the sand.

they explode onto it like they’ve never seen the ocean before — throwing towels down, kicking off shoes, arguing over who brought sunscreen and who forgot it again. someone’s already halfway to the water. someone else is trying to wrestle a beach ball out of a backpack.

haruka lags behind.

always does.

he shrugs his hoodie off and tosses it onto the edge of someone’s towel. then he stands there, bare feet sinking into the warm top layer of sand, eyes half-lidded under the early sun, just watching.

it takes him a second to notice you.

you’re further out than he expected. alone. past the break, arms strong as you paddle out again. no stumbles. no hesitation.

just rhythm.

he squints.

for some reason, he thought you might’ve been the kind to play at surfing — board for show, drifting around with headphones on. but you’re real. trained. maybe even better than half the idiots he came here with.

he doesn’t realize he’s watching too long until umemiya bumps into his shoulder, grinning.

“that her?”

haruka doesn’t answer. just exhales slowly through his nose and looks away.

but he knows the answer.

he can feel it in the way something clicks, quietly, behind his ribs.

yeah.

it’s you.

the girl with salt on her skin and shadows under her eyes.

the one who noticed him before he noticed you.

he brushes the sand off his hands, picks up a towel, and walks down to the edge of the water. he doesn’t go in. just stands there, letting the waves rush over his feet.

you’re still out there.

you haven’t looked back once.

you don’t need to.

but something in him wonders — if you do turn around, if you catch him watching — would you say something?

or would you pretend not to see him at all?

either way, he stays still.

shoulders relaxed.

eyes sharp.

and waiting.

you’re riding a smaller wave when you hear it — the echo of laughter from the shore, faint but sharp, carried over the water like a ripple through glass.

you don’t look.

not at first.

the voice that cuts through the rest belongs to one of his friends — you don’t know their names, but you know the tone. teasing. familiar. the kind of thing boys say when they’re trying to poke at something they don’t understand.

“yo, sakura’s watching surf girl like he’s studying for finals!”

your fingers falter for a split second where they grip the board.

you recover quickly, pushing forward through the wave. spray hits your face. you duck under, heart skipping a beat — not because you’re embarrassed.

because it’s true.

you felt it.

you knew.

when you come up, blinking salt from your lashes, you risk a glance toward shore.

he’s still there.

closer to the water now, towel in hand, one arm bent lazily across his chest. his eyes are locked on the horizon — not on you, not anymore — but there’s something about the way his mouth is set that makes it feel like he’s still looking, just differently.

you don’t smile.

you don’t wave.

you paddle back out.

behind you, the waves keep breaking. ahead of you, the sea stretches wide and open. and somewhere in the middle of it all, you’re not quite alone, but not exactly seen, either.

₍^. .^₎⟆

the sun’s higher now, and the waves have softened. you’ve had your time — just enough of it — and now, the day starts calling you back to shore.

you ride one last wave in, controlled and clean, the board cutting across the water like you were born doing this. and maybe you were. it’s the one place where your body feels like it belongs.

you step off in the shallows, leash dragging behind you, and start walking toward the truck.

you don’t look at them.

but you feel it. the way their voices quiet a little. the way the laughter shifts.

you prop your board up against the side of the truck and grab a towel. it’s instinct now — opening the door just enough to block your frame as you peel the wetsuit down your hips, towel wrapped around your chest, swimsuit sticking to your skin like glue.

you change quick. practiced. not for attention, but for efficiency.

but you can feel eyes.

not all of them. just one pair.

he looks away fast.

too fast.

haruka’s jaw clenches.

he wasn’t trying to look. not really.

but something about the way you move — focused, unbothered, real — just hooks his attention like nothing else has in a long time.

and now his ears are warm.

“bro,” umemiya grins, nudging him hard enough to make him stumble half a step. “you’re so obvious it hurts.”

“shut up.”

“she’s kinda badass, though,” ren adds, nodding toward the truck. “quiet. mysterious. definitely stronger than hayato.”

“hey!”

“you live next to her, right?” someone asks. “why don’t you talk to her?”

haruka just scoffs, low and defensive.

he doesn’t say it, but maybe… maybe he wants to.

you throw your towel into the truck bed and slide your board in beside it. you’re about to climb in when your phone buzzes — and your stomach drops.

DCFS scheduled home visit — 11:15am.

you check the time.

10:47.

your keys fumble in your hand as you throw open the door and start tossing things into the front seat — wrappers, receipts, the hoodie your brother spilled juice on yesterday. you’re talking under your breath, cursing time, cursing yourself, heart starting to pound in your chest.

you don’t notice them walking up until someone says,

“hey… you okay?”

you freeze.

you look up.

they’re all standing a few feet away — like they weren’t sure if they should come closer or not.

haruka’s not quite making eye contact, but he’s the one who asked.

and you… don’t know what to say.

you’ve never heard that question asked like that. not curious. not judgmental. just… genuine.

your voice catches in your throat for a second before you force something out.

“i’m fine. just… forgot about a visit.”

“visit?” ren asks.

you hesitate. you weren’t going to explain. but something about their faces — open, confused, a little concerned — makes you soften.

“DCFS. child services,” you say quietly. “they come by sometimes. for my brother.”

and then you see it — the way the realization hits them, one by one. like a wave.

like oh.

you never said anything.

you never had to.

until now.

haruka’s jaw flexes again — not like before, but different. thoughtful. quieter. like something’s clicking into place behind his eyes.

and for a second, you hate how exposed you feel.

but none of them laugh.

none of them ask dumb questions.

they just… look at you.

you’re halfway through throwing a towel over the seat when one of them — you don’t know his name, but he’s got a loud voice and louder questions — blurts it out.

“damn, your parents really suck that bad someone called DCFS on you?”

the words hit sharp, stupid.

you don’t flinch. don’t even blink.

you just hum. soft and short. noncommittal.

like it’s not worth explaining.

because it isn’t.

your hand closes around the door handle. your voice stays steady.

“i gotta go.”

and then you’re in the truck. engine rumbling. windows down.

none of them move.

you pull away from the beach lot without looking back, sand kicking up under your tires, the ocean shrinking in the mirror as the weight of real life sinks back into your chest.

they stand there for a while after you’re gone. quiet, for once.

someone lets out a low breath.

“that was kinda harsh,” ren mumbles. “maybe she didn’t want to talk about it.”

“you asked, man,” umemiya shrugs. “don’t get pissy about the answer.”

haruka hasn’t moved.

he’s watching the road you took, the way your truck faded out of sight like it was never there in the first place.

“still weird, though,” he mutters, arms crossed, voice low. “you’d think if your parents had some DCFS meeting going on, maybe don’t go surfing like nothing matters.”

the others glance at him, but no one argues. not really.

they don’t get it.

none of them get it.

because no one realizes — not even haruka — that there’s no meeting happening with your parents.

there are no parents.

you were never the kid being watched.

you’re the one they’re watching with.

they linger on the sidewalk across from your house, half-curious, half-awkward, the sun creeping higher while the street stays quiet.

“yo,” ren mutters, squinting at your open front door, “is she seriously doing all the cleaning?”

“looks like it,” hayato replies, crossing his arms. “where are her parents, though? it’s like— what? twenty minutes until that lady from child services shows up?”

“maybe they forgot,” umemiya says casually, frowning. “or maybe they’re just not home. that’s kinda messed up.”

“yeah,” ren nods. “imagine leaving your kid to scramble around the house alone while DCFS is literally pulling up. brutal.”

they watch you rush back and forth — folding things, taking out trash, rearranging clutter on the coffee table. your hair is half-tied and falling loose, shirt damp with sweat, jaw clenched in that way people miss unless they’re really paying attention.

none of them are.

“damn,” hayato mutters. “that whole family’s probably a mess.”

haruka hasn’t said anything yet.

he watches you disappear into the hallway, then reappear with a spray bottle in one hand and a stack of dishes in the other. your movements are fast but careful — not frantic. like you know this drill too well.

like it’s routine.

he stares, brows pulled low. says nothing.

because a part of him wants to agree — yeah, what kind of parents leave their kid to clean up the house alone for their meeting?

but another part — quieter, sharper — keeps chewing on the edge of that question.

why does it look like you’ve done this before?

₍^. .^₎⟆

you’ve just finished wiping the kitchen counter when there’s a knock at the door.

not loud.

not impatient.

just… official.

you take a breath.

then another.

you smooth your shirt, check the living room one last time — pillows fluffed, tv off, your brother’s shoes tucked neatly by the door — and open it.

a woman stands there with a clipboard in one hand and a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. government car parked right behind her.

“morning,” she says, eyes scanning you, then the space behind you. “you’re y/n?”

you nod. “yes, ma’am. come in.”

she steps inside, shoes clicking gently against the tile, gaze taking in every corner. every detail.

you don’t flinch.

she doesn’t sit, just walks the space, noting things on her sheet.

“your brother’s at school?”

“yes,” you reply, “dropped him off at eight.”

“good,” she says, nodding. “attendance has been consistent?”

“every day,” you confirm. “on time.”

she gives a small smile, finally facing you fully. “sorry we didn’t give more notice this time. i know it’s short.”

you shake your head. “i understand.”

her voice softens slightly. “i can tell you’ve been working hard.”

you nod, swallowing down everything that rises behind that sentence. the late nights. the skipped meals. the balancing act between childhood and parenthood.

“how have things been at home since our last visit?” she asks, pen poised.

“stable,” you say carefully. “he’s doing well. he’s adjusted to his class, made a couple friends. sleeps through the night now.”

she nods. “any behavioral concerns? aggression? nightmares?”

“not anymore. the counselor at school’s been helping.”

the worker makes another note.

“what about finances?” she asks, more delicately now. “still covering rent and utilities?”

“yes. i work part-time at the cafe two blocks over. early mornings. and i’ve been selling custom boards on the side.”

“boards?”

“surfboards,” you say. “i shape and finish them. helps with extra income.”

she pauses, looking at you differently now. “you do all that… and care for him alone?”

you hesitate.

not because you don’t know the answer — but because you’re so used to living in it, you don’t think of it as impressive. just… necessary.

“i do what i have to.”

the woman stares at you for a long moment. the air between you shifts — something heavier settling in.

“he’s lucky to have you,” she says quietly.

you almost say, i’m the lucky one.

but you don’t.

you just nod.

“last question,” she says. “are you still pursuing legal guardianship, or are you waiting for the next review?”

your throat tightens.

“i’m waiting,” you say, barely above a whisper. “until i can prove i can handle it long-term.”

she clicks her pen closed.

“you’re already proving it,” she says.

and somehow, that hits harder than anything else.

the door clicks shut behind the DCFS worker, and for a few long seconds, the house is utterly still.

you don’t move.

you just stand there in the middle of the living room — hands limp at your sides, heart still thudding under your ribs like it doesn’t realize the visit is over. the quiet feels unnatural. like something’s wrong. but nothing is wrong. not anymore.

the floor is clean. the paperwork on the fridge has all the right signatures. the bed’s made. there’s food in the kitchen.

you remembered everything.

except—

your head jerks toward the clock on the microwave.

3:32 PM.

you blink.

no.

school lets out at 3:00.

your heart drops to your stomach like a stone.

you’re already halfway out the door by the time your thoughts catch up. keys in hand, shoes untied, phone buzzing in your back pocket.

5 missed calls.

1 voicemail.

your little brother’s name on every one.

you race down the porch steps, hands shaking as you shove the key into the truck’s ignition — but you don’t even make it out of the driveway before you see him.

he’s already walking up the sidewalk.

his small backpack looks heavier than usual. his face is red — part sun, part fury — and his eyes are glassy, sharp little accusations behind unshed tears.

he doesn’t stop.

he walks straight past the truck, straight up the steps, and when you try to follow, he slams the front door shut before you’re even halfway there.

you get to the porch just in time to hear the click of the lock turning.

“wait—!” you gasp, knocking hard on the door. “please, hey— i’m sorry, i—”

but he doesn’t answer.

you knock again.

“hey, open the door, okay? i’m sorry. i lost track of time— that meeting ran long, and—”

nothing.

you crouch to peek through the window beside the door and catch a glimpse of him — standing in the hallway with his little arms crossed, jaw set.

you try again, softer this time.

“i didn’t forget you on purpose.”

silence.

you press your forehead against the door.

“i was just trying to make everything right,” you whisper. “i just wanted them to think we’re okay…”

your voice cracks before you can stop it.

and from the other side of the door, your brother stays still. unmoved.

and locked inside.

you take a slow breath and sit down on the front steps, hands trembling in your lap. you’re not mad. not at him. never at him. he’s a kid. and kids get angry when they feel left behind.

but that doesn’t make the guilt settle any easier.

across the yard, haruka and his friends watch from his porch, confusion slowly blooming into concern.

“…did she just get locked out?” ren says, blinking.

“wasn’t that her little brother?” hayato asks, leaning forward slightly.

“wait— yeah,” umemiya mutters. “that was definitely a kid.”

they watch you sit down, head bowed, hands rubbing circles into your thighs like you’re trying to calm down without letting yourself fall apart.

haruka’s eyes narrow.

something feels off.

you don’t look annoyed. you don’t look like a bratty older sister who missed a pickup.

you look… wrecked.

but still quiet. still calm. still holding it all in.

“is she crying?” hayato whispers.

haruka stands up.

“what are you doing?” ren asks.

“checking,” he says shortly.

“dude—”

“just stay here.”

he crosses the short stretch of grass between the houses. your driveway’s cracked near the edge and your truck door is still open. he steps around it carefully, slowly, like approaching something he’s not sure he has permission to see.

you don’t notice him at first.

you’re too focused on the door.

your voice is barely audible now, speaking through the crack in the frame.

“i made pancakes this morning. your favorite. remember?”

nothing.

you add, quieter, “they got cold before you even came down…”

haruka stops a few feet behind you.

he could leave.

he should.

but he doesn’t.

“…hey,” he says finally, voice low.

you startle, head snapping around. your eyes are puffy. not from crying — not yet — but from holding it in too long.

you quickly wipe your hands on your jeans and stand up.

“sorry,” you say, like you’ve done something wrong. “i’ll move the truck. i didn’t mean to block anything—”

“no— it’s not that,” he says, shaking his head. “we just… saw him lock you out. are you okay?”

you pause.

and it’s the way he asks — not casual. not nosy. genuinely unsure if you’re alright — that makes your throat tighten again.

“i forgot to pick him up,” you admit. “just once.”

haruka frowns. “because of that meeting?”

you nod.

“your parents really bailed on it that hard?”

you blink.

and there it is again — the assumption. the disconnect.

you open your mouth. close it again. and for some reason, this time, you don’t correct him.

you just say, “they’ve been gone a long time.”

haruka stares at you.

and slowly… something starts to click.

you give him a faint smile, exhausted but still holding steady.

“but it’s okay. he’ll let me in when he cools off. he’s just scared. he’s been through worse.”

you look back at the door.

“he’s still just a kid.”

haruka stays quiet.

for the first time, he’s not sure what to say.

but he doesn’t leave.

he just sits down on the step beside you.

you’ve been sitting on the steps with haruka in awkward silence for all of three minutes when you finally hear the click of the lock turn from inside.

you both look up — just in time to see the door crack open a few inches.

your little brother’s face appears through the gap, eyes narrowed with the righteous fury only an 8-year-old with abandonment issues and a juice box can muster.

“oh,” he says flatly. “now you wanna come in?”

you blink. “you locked me out.”

“because you left me.”

“i had a whole government official in here, kai.”

“you said you’d be there at three.”

“it was 3:32, kai—”

“you forgot me. completely. i walked home like an orphaned Victorian child.”

you throw your hands up. “kai, it’s literally a ten-minute walk.”

“in the sun!”

“you live in southern japan!”

he opens the door wider and steps out, arms flailing as he paces like he’s rehearsing courtroom testimony. “it was traumatizing. i had to use the crosswalk alone. i made eye contact with a stray cat and everything!”

“you’re being so dramatic.”

“my safety is not dramatic, y/n!”

you march up to the door and try to nudge past him, but he spins and blocks the entrance with his whole 60-pound body like a tiny, furious bouncer.

“kai—”

“nuh-uh! what if i’d been kidnapped while walking home, huh?”

“you memorized my license plate to track me down when you were six, you’d have escaped in five minutes.”

“still would’ve been a kidnapping. trauma. headlines. you’d be the sister who surfed through her brother’s abduction.”

“you little gremlin—”

you lunge for the handle, but he SLAMS it shut and re-locks it.

“you did not just— kai!!”

you jiggle the doorknob aggressively. then kick the bottom of the door with the heel of your sandal like it owes you money. “open this door right now!”

“nah,” he says through the wood.

from across the lawn, haruka’s friends are straight-up gathered at this point.

ren’s got a whole bag of chips out. “this is better than TV.”

“she just drop-kicked the doorknob,” umemiya whispers. “that’s commitment.”

“she really climbed a roof last week to wax her surfboard,” hayato adds. “this is nothing.”

haruka… is staring. not judging. just— watching. very, very intently.

you try the window next.

kai shrieks from inside. “don’t you dare come in through my window again!”

“i paid the rent, kid! i can climb the window!”

“this is breaking and entering!”

“it’s my name on the lease!”

“you’re unstable!!”

“you locked me out because i was a couple minutes late!”

the front door bursts open again suddenly and kai points at you like he’s in a soap opera. “you can come in after you apologize for emotional neglect and potential heatstroke.”

you pause. blink.

and without hesitation, you say, “nope.”

then you pivot toward the side of the house and start hauling yourself onto the trash bin to boost yourself up.

“she’s doing it,” hayato breathes.

“she’s actually gonna break in.”

haruka sighs and finally gets up, brushing crumbs off his lap.

“do we… stop her?” ren asks, almost hopeful.

haruka shakes his head. “she’s gonna make it in through the back window in like two minutes.”

“how do you know?”

“because she’s done this before,” haruka says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “you can just tell.”

THUD.

CRASH.

“KAI, I SWEAR TO GOD—”

“DON’T SWEAR IN FRONT OF MINORS!”

“YOU’RE THE MINOR!!”

SLAM.

the front door rattles in its frame from inside.

haruka just stands there on the lawn, arms crossed, staring blankly at your house as the noise continues. behind him, his friends are frozen mid-snack, wide-eyed and completely invested.

“…was that a chair?” ren asks, head tilting.

“sounded like a chair,” hayato nods, chewing slowly.

BANG.

“STOP RUNNING!”

“YOU’RE NOT FAST ENOUGH!”

“STOP THROWING STUFF!”

“YOU DON’T RESPECT MY BOUNDARIES!”

haruka winces as another loud thud shakes the thin wall nearest the window. a picture frame slides down in the windowpane, slightly crooked now.

“okay,” umemiya mutters. “so… they’re fine?”

“yeah,” ren says, nodding. “this is sibling bonding. peak stuff.”

haruka raises an eyebrow. “this is a domestic WWE match.”

then a new sound joins the chaos.

a vacuum cleaner?

“is she vacuuming?” hayato asks.

“in rage?”

the sound revs louder, and they all flinch.

“KAI, GET OFF THE COUCH OR SO HELP ME—”

“IT’S A FREE COUNTRY!”

“GET OFF THE—” FWOMP. “GAH—!”

there’s a beat of silence.

“…i think she got tackled,” ren whispers.

haruka’s jaw tightens like he’s debating whether to intervene or just let natural consequences run their course.

a window flies open upstairs.

kai’s head pops out, hair messy, face flushed red. “CALL CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES!!”

“THEY WERE JUST HERE!” your voice screams from somewhere behind him.

“DO A RECALL VISIT!”

kai disappears again.

“should we call someone?” hayato mumbles.

“like who? the fire department? a priest?” umemiya mutters.

haruka, still watching the house, just exhales slowly through his nose. “…she got back in through the laundry room window. she always leaves it unlocked.”

they all turn to him.

ren squints. “how do you know that?”

haruka shrugs, looking away. “i just… pay attention.”

the vacuum dies.

kai yells, “YOU CAN’T BRIBE ME WITH FISH STICKS THIS TIME!”

you yell back, “THEY’RE HOMEMADE! YOU LOVE THEM!”

“NOT WHEN THEY’RE MADE OUT OF GUILT!”

SLAM.

from somewhere in the back of the house, a closet door creaks and immediately slams again, like something—or someone—got shoved inside.

the boys freeze.

“…i think she just locked him in the laundry room,” hayato whispers.

“yep,” ren says. “iconic.”

haruka rubs the back of his neck. “…she’s kinda insane.”

but there’s no judgment in his voice.

just… something else.

interest.

a little worry.

a little awe.

he watches the house like it’s still rattling. like the yelling, the footsteps, the chaos are all part of this strange rhythm you and your brother move in — wild, messy, impossible to predict.

but… alive.

he doesn’t even realize he’s smiling a little until ren nudges him.

“you good, man?”

haruka doesn’t look away.

“…yeah,” he mutters. “i think i am.”

the front door creaks open a few inches.

kai’s voice immediately barrels down the hallway from somewhere in the back:

“YOU’RE VIOLATING HUMAN RIGHTS!!”

you sigh, leaning halfway out the door, one hand braced on the frame and the other holding what might be… a fish stick.

your hair’s a mess. your shirt is backwards. your right sock is missing entirely. and there’s a suspicious smudge of peanut butter on your cheek.

haruka and his friends just stare.

“hey,” you say casually, like nothing is on fire inside your home. “thanks for… y’know. checking. but i got it under control.”

“YOU DO NOT GOT IT UNDER CONTROL!!”

you raise your voice slightly. “kai, i told you to reflect on your behavior in the laundry room!”

“YOU SHOVED ME IN HERE!”

“i nudged you with the door, don’t be dramatic.”

you glance back at the guys, unfazed.

“really,” you say with a crooked smile. “i’m good. nothing to worry about.”

there’s a loud BANG followed by a flurry of knocking and a voice that shrieks:

“I’M GONNA START SINGING THE SAILOR MOON THEME SONG AT FULL VOLUME—”

you groan and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“…he means it. i gotta go.”

you start to shut the door—then pause.

“thanks, though. really.”

you give a tiny, exhausted smile.

haruka’s eyes catch on it.

“anytime,” he says quietly.

you shut the door just as kai belts from the depths of the laundry room, “FIGHTING EVIL BY MOONLIGHT—”

SLAM.

the door shuts again.

silence falls across the yard.

ren breaks it with a low whistle. “…yep. she’s hot.”

“also terrifying,” hayato adds.

“that’s what makes her hot,” ren shrugs.

haruka doesn’t say anything.

he just keeps looking at the door.

₍^. .^₎⟆

the hum of the box fan in the corner mixes with the occasional creak of the old house settling as night sinks in fully around you. the lights are dimmed. the dishes are finally washed. the chaos is—mercifully—over.

you’re lying on your back on the couch, one arm draped over your eyes.

kai is curled up at the other end, blanket tangled around him, feet way too close to your ribs.

neither of you has spoken in a few minutes.

just the soft whir of the fan.

and then—

“…i was really mad at you today.”

you pull your arm off your eyes, glancing down at him.

“i know,” you say quietly. “and you had every right to be.”

he doesn’t look at you. just fidgets with a loose thread on the blanket.

“i waited at the gate for, like, twenty minutes. thought maybe you were pranking me or something. then i figured you forgot.”

your chest tightens.

you reach over and brush a bit of hair off his forehead. “i’m really sorry, kai. i didn’t forget you… not on purpose. things got crazy with the visit, and i—”

“i know,” he mumbles, still not looking at you. “i get it. you’ve got a lot.”

you’re quiet for a second, hand still resting gently against his head.

then: “i hate that you ever have to feel like i’m not here for you. you’re the only thing in the world that matters to me. more than surfing, more than anything else.”

kai shrugs a little, in that very kai way of pretending he’s okay when he’s only mostly okay.

“…you still made fish sticks,” he says.

you huff a soft laugh. “my peace offering.”

“they were kinda dry.”

“rude.”

a long pause.

kai pulls the blanket tighter around himself, snuggling closer to your side without saying it.

“…who were those guys outside?”

you blink.

“what?”

“the ones you said thanks to. i saw them through the window. they were just standing there like… a whole audience.”

you exhale, smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “they’re just some guys from the neighborhood. haruka and his friends.”

he turns his head to squint at you suspiciously. “haruka. that’s the guy with the hair like he lost a fight with a motorcycle helmet?”

“i—what?” you laugh. “no, his hair is just like that!”

“you like him?”

“okay,” you say quickly, brushing his hair back again, “someone is clearly overtired. time for bed.”

“so that’s a yes.”

“kai.”

“you so like him.”

“kai, bed.”

“you’re blushing.”

“that’s the overhead light reflecting off my stress.”

“you are! you like that helmet-haired punk—”

you toss a pillow at him.

he yelps, then starts giggling as you haul him up off the couch and steer him toward his room, still swatting at him with the pillow.

the moment is loud, silly, chaotic again—just a little.

but as you tuck him in and smooth the blanket over his shoulders, there’s a quietness between you again. this one’s soft, warm. safe.

you press a kiss to his forehead before flipping off the light.

“goodnight, punk.”

“night, surf witch.”

you grin.

and for the first time all day—

the house finally feels still.

the streets have long quieted down. the usual buzz of scooters and stray cars has faded into nothing but the distant hum of crickets and the occasional bark of a dog two blocks away. most of the house is dark except for the soft glow from haruka’s bedroom window.

he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, a towel still draped over his shoulders from his late shower, hair slightly damp. his phone is buzzing softly in his lap — a message from ren, a meme from hayato, something ridiculous about surfing with blindfolds — but he’s not looking at it.

instead, his gaze drifts toward his window.

his blinds are tilted just enough to see a sliver of the night sky, the faint outline of your small house a few rooftops over. no lights on now. all quiet. just like his.

and yet… he knows yours probably wasn’t quiet until just recently.

he can still hear kai yelling about sailor moon. still see you leaning half out the door, smudged with exhaustion, holding a cold fish stick like it was some kind of peace treaty. still see the way you smiled — tired, but real — and thanked them before closing yourself back into the mess you never once complained about.

his jaw tightens slightly.

you didn’t mention your parents.

he notices that now.

not once.

and no one answered the door today except you.

you cooked. you cleaned. you handled the DCFS meeting. you locked your brother in the laundry room and somehow also comforted him all in the same three-hour span.

haruka scrubs a hand over his face and leans back onto his mattress, staring at the ceiling.

you’re carrying it all.

and no one seems to realize it — except maybe him.

ren’s voice drifts back in his mind from earlier:

“she’s hot.”

“also terrifying.”

“that’s what makes her hot.”

haruka had laughed with them, sure. but that’s not what stuck with him.

what stuck was how fast you switched between chaos and calm. how you fought with your brother and still kissed his forehead goodnight. how you opened the door when you didn’t have to and reassured them all like you’d done this a hundred times before.

what stuck was how tired you looked.

how no one had asked if you were okay.

he rolls over, pulling the towel off his neck and tossing it aside.

the house is still. the night is deep.

but sleep doesn’t come easy.

not when someone two rooftops over is carrying a world no one else sees.

₍^. .^₎⟆

your keys jingle against your thigh as you lock the truck door behind you, hoodie sleeves pulled low and one flip-flop slightly crooked as you shuffle into the small corner store down the street.

the sun’s barely risen — pale blue light stretching across the sky, too early for most sane people to be awake.

but you have exactly twenty-seven minutes to grab groceries, get back, pack a half-decent lunch for kai, and make sure he’s not wearing his shirt inside out again before school.

you head straight for the eggs.

your list is in your head:

bread

eggs

juice

one semi-edible snack kai won’t throw at you out of protest

your brain’s still foggy, but your legs know the route.

you turn the corner into the breakfast aisle—

—and nearly crash straight into someone.

“oh—sorry—!”

you both freeze.

your hand is halfway to a carton of eggs.

haruka sakura is standing exactly two feet in front of you, equally frozen, holding… instant miso soup and a small bag of rice.

he blinks.

you blink.

“…you’re up early,” you mumble.

he looks down at his basket like he just remembered it’s there. “…yeah. couldn’t sleep.”

there’s a pause.

his hair is a mess — worse than usual, if that’s even possible. he’s wearing a plain black shirt, basketball shorts, and socks with his slides like he walked straight out the door with zero intention of being perceived.

you, meanwhile, are wearing your older brother’s faded hoodie and shorts, and your hair is doing something gravity-defying on one side of your head.

“you live near here?” he asks, trying to sound casual.

you raise a brow. “haruka, i literally opened the door and threw a fish stick at you yesterday.”

“right. yeah. forgot.”

he clears his throat.

you reach past him slowly, grab your eggs. “did you though?”

“not really.”

he watches you tuck the carton under your arm, eyes flicking over your sleepy face.

“…so, uh,” he says after a second, shifting his weight, “everything okay? after yesterday?”

you pause halfway toward the bread aisle. your voice stays quiet.

“yeah. it’s fine.”

he doesn’t push. just nods, even though he clearly doesn’t believe you.

you grab a loaf and a small bottle of juice.

kai’s snack gets reduced to a mini chocolate milk.

and haruka’s still next to you somehow.

the walk to the checkout is awkward. two baskets. two people. one very noticeable silence.

you hand over your cash. he swipes his card. you both step out into the morning haze together, bags swinging by your sides.

“so…” he says.

you glance at him.

he hesitates, “you’re not going surfing today?”

“not yet. groceries first. i’ve got a little brother to feed, remember?”

he nods, his eyes flicking toward your truck parked nearby.

“…you’re kind of impressive,” he says suddenly.

you blink.

“what?”

“just—” he shrugs, looking down at the ground. “you do a lot. and it’s… cool. or whatever.”

you stare at him.

and then—maybe it’s the early hour, maybe it’s the fact that he looks like he wandered out of a high school sleepover, but you laugh softly.

“thanks, helmet-head.”

his lips twitch. “you remembered.”

“you’re hard to forget.”

you say it without thinking. then your eyes widen slightly.

he raises an eyebrow, smirk tugging at his mouth.

you grab your keys. “i gotta go. kai’s probably boiling hot dogs without water again.”

he chuckles. “good luck.”

you hesitate at your truck door.

“hey,” you say.

he looks up.

“…thanks. for yesterday. and this morning. you didn’t have to check in.”

he shrugs. “i wanted to.”

another pause. neither of you moves.

then you slide into the truck, engine purring to life.

you wave once through the window.

haruka watches you drive away, grocery bag hanging loosely at his side.

he doesn’t stop smiling the whole walk home.

you barely make it through the front door before kai’s voice hits you like a brick.

“who was that?”

you freeze halfway into the kitchen, grocery bags rustling in your grip. “…who was who?”

kai’s sitting at the table, cereal bowl half full and milk dripping down the side like he poured it with his eyes closed. he’s in yesterday’s hoodie and socks that don’t match. classic.

he lifts an eyebrow, mouth full. “the guy.”

“…what guy.”

“the guy you were talking to outside. tall. moody. looked like he hates joy.”

you roll your eyes and dump the bread onto the counter. “you mean haruka? he just happened to be at the store.”

kai leans forward dramatically, spoon in mid-air. “haruka, huh?”

“don’t start.”

“too late.”

you groan, grabbing the eggs and sliding them into the fridge. “he’s just a neighbor. his friends came over yesterday. you remember — you threw a hot pocket at me while they were outside.”

“you locked me in the laundry room.”

“you locked me out of the house.”

“semantics.”

you glare at him. he grins, obnoxiously smug, then takes another massive bite of cereal like he’s won a war.

“he cute though,” he mumbles around the spoon.

“you’re nine.”

“not for me, dummy. for you.”

“i hate you.”

“liar. you love me and you’re blushing.”

you freeze by the sink. “i am not.”

kai’s already on his feet, making dramatic kissy faces, holding his spoon like a microphone. “hi i’m haruka, i surf but i also secretly care about people and your big sister’s kinda my type—”

you chuck a bagel at his head.

“OW—hey!”

“get ready for school or i’m feeding you uncooked oatmeal.”

“that’s child abuse!”

“that’s sibling justice.”

he darts off, cackling like a maniac, and you let yourself lean against the counter with a breathy laugh. a soft moment slips in — quiet, just for a second.

you don’t get a lot of those.

but today… today feels a little lighter.

₍^. .^₎⟆

the clock on your dashboard reads 3:47 p.m.

you grip the wheel tighter, half speeding down your neighborhood street, one hand reaching to unbuckle kai as you park slanted in front of the house. your foot barely hits the porch before you’re rattling in your keys, heart hammering with the weight of everything you still haven’t solved.

“you okay?” kai asks, trailing behind you with his backpack half-zipped and dragging.

“no,” you snap before you can soften it. “sorry. just—i got called in for a shift.”

he blinks. “right now?”

“starts at four. ends at one. i have twelve minutes to get you inside, figure out dinner, and pray someone with a soul agrees to babysit last-minute.”

you shove the door open, the inside of your house feeling way too small and suffocating today. the fan’s still broken. the kitchen smells like the egg sandwich kai tried to microwave yesterday. you don’t even have time to process the clutter.

kai drops his bag with a thud. “can’t i just stay here?”

“alone? till 1 a.m.?” you’re already pulling your phone out, fingers scrolling fast through every number you have. your voice is thin, tired. “you know i can’t let you do that.”

he kicks at a sneaker on the floor. “what about mr. han?”

“out of town.”

“ms. rhea?”

“has a toddler and told me never again after the applesauce incident.”

“yikes.”

your phone buzzes. a text from your manager:

You clock in at 3:59 or I write you up.

you breathe through your nose. “perfect. love that for me.”

kai’s quiet for a second, like he knows the stress is piling, maybe more than you’re willing to show.

then—

“…what about haruka?”

you blink. “what?”

he shrugs. “haruka. the neighbor dude. he’s chill. and tall. tall people are usually responsible.”

you stare at him. “that logic is so flawed it gave me a migraine.”

“he let you call him helmet-head and didn’t even threaten your life. he can’t be that bad.”

“kai.”

“he was literally nice to you at the grocery store this morning. you were smiling.”

you point a finger. “no i wasn’t.”

“yes you were.”

“you’re imagining things.”

“you got that soft, weird smile you do when you don’t want to like someone but kinda do.”

“i will leave you on the porch.”

he folds his arms. “you’re panicking. just ask. worst case, he says no and you leave me with a box of granola bars and pray for the best.”

you groan and flop down on the couch, hand covering your face.

it’s so dumb.

he’s a neighbor. you barely know him.

he probably doesn’t even like kids.

but it’s 3:53 p.m.

and you’re out of options.

“…fine.”

kai’s already grinning, smug as ever. “i’ll start packing the goldfish.”

you don’t even remember putting on your work shirt, let alone brushing your hair or changing into clean jeans. but somehow, by the time you’re standing in front of haruka’s door with kai at your side and your phone buzzing violently in your back pocket, you’re fully dressed in your restaurant uniform and totally emotionally unprepared for this moment.

kai nudges your arm. “you’re standing there like you’re gonna throw up.”

“i might.”

“you want me to knock?”

“don’t you dare.”

but it’s already too late — kai’s rapping his knuckles against the door before you can swat his hand away, and now you’re committed. too late to run. you’re officially the desperate neighbor with too much eyeliner and not enough backup plans.

the door opens with a smooth creak, and haruka’s standing there in a loose t-shirt and gray joggers, hair still damp from a recent shower. he blinks at you, expression unreadable as always.

“…yo.”

you awkwardly clear your throat. “uh. hi.”

he nods slightly. “hey.”

silence.

kai coughs.

you flinch. “so. um. this is going to sound insane and i fully understand if the answer is no and you slam the door in my face and never speak to me again—”

“you need something,” he says flatly.

“…yes.”

another silence. haruka glances at kai, who lifts his hand in a tiny wave. “yo.”

haruka looks back at you. “…what kind of something?”

“i got called into work. late shift. 4 p.m. to 1 a.m. i’ve already asked everyone i know — and i mean everyone — and no one can help me tonight and i know this is weird and so last-minute, but i just—”

you pause to breathe. “i need someone to watch kai. just for tonight.”

you’re waiting for the weird look. the laugh. the classic “are you serious?” rejection.

instead, haruka just scratches the back of his neck and mutters, “i mean… i guess i’m not doing anything.”

you blink. “wait—seriously?”

he shrugs. “it’s not a big deal. i’ve dealt with worse.”

“you literally don’t know anything about this child,” you deadpan, gesturing to kai, who is already halfway into haruka’s house like he owns the place.

“i like mario kart,” kai says helpfully.

“i have that,” haruka replies.

you’re staring. is this… actually happening?

“…you’re sure? i mean—you don’t have to—”

“go clock in,” he says, nodding toward the street. “you’re already late.”

your jaw practically unhinges. “how did you—?”

“your phone hasn’t stopped vibrating since you got here.”

you yank it out of your pocket. Clock. In. Now. from your manager. again.

“oh my god.”

“go,” haruka says again, quieter this time. “we’ll be fine.”

kai flashes you a thumbs-up from haruka’s couch, already surrounded by snacks he probably didn’t ask permission for.

you hesitate one second longer, heart pounding.

“…thank you,” you whisper.

haruka gives you one small nod — the kind that almost feels like a promise.

and you run.

haruka barely had time to close the door before kai was already sprawled across his floor, unzipping his backpack like he owned the place.

“what’re we doing first?” kai asked, kicking off his shoes. “video games? snacks? do you own a trampoline?”

haruka blinked. “…no.”

“weak.”

he pulled his phone out and sent one quick message:

yo. come over. emergency babysitting operation. bring food.

it only took two minutes before replies rolled in.

omw. sounds chaotic.

do you even like kids??

tell him i’m bringing mario party.

by 4:30, his house had transformed into the most questionable version of a babysitting setup known to man.

arata showed up first with his switch. shou and hayate followed, carrying takeout boxes, an unhealthy amount of soda, and zero adult supervision energy. kai was instantly in his element.

“so… your neighbor just left you with him?” arata asked under his breath while kai screamed at a blue shell on-screen.

“yep.”

“and you said yes?”

“wasn’t gonna let her panic like that,” haruka muttered, eyeing the open window like maybe some of his chill had just blown out of it. “kid seems smart.”

“he’s nine and said we have no culture because we didn’t know which pokémon card got banned from tournaments.”

“…okay, he’s not wrong.”

they rotated through mario party, uno, and some chaotic made-up obstacle course game that involved running between furniture and yelling “BOMB DEFUSED!” every time kai made it across the hallway.

haruka had never known what babysitting really meant until kai stood on his kitchen counter shouting, “TOUCH THE CEILING OR YOU DIE!”

still, it was… weirdly nice.

by the time 8:00 p.m. rolled around, there were soda cans on the table, blankets all over the couch, and three of haruka’s friends debating whether baby shark had a legitimate storyline.

then kai perked up, like the world’s most unpredictable goblin-child.

“can we go to the beach?”

four heads turned.

haruka blinked. “now?”

“yeah. just for a little. please?”

“is this legal?” shou asked.

“are you gonna tattle?” kai grinned.

“fair point.”

“your sister would kill me if you drowned,” haruka muttered, standing to stretch. “ten minutes. no swimming. deal?”

kai practically launched himself out of his seat. “deal!”

haruka exchanged a long, exhausted glance with his friends, who all shrugged with various degrees of amusement.

“let’s go before i regret this,” haruka sighed.

and with that, five boys and one determined child made their way to the shore — the moon starting to rise, the tide low, and the kind of peaceful chaos that only happens when you say yes to something you didn’t expect.

the beach at night was quiet in that magical, movie-scene kind of way. the waves rolled in soft and even, the sky overhead still deep blue and just starting to sprinkle with stars. the boys didn’t go far — just past the dunes and down the sand where the water kissed their sneakers.

kai took off ahead, stick in hand, poking at seaweed and yelling “WORM!” every time something even slightly moved.

haruka trailed behind him, hands in his pockets, yawning into his hoodie sleeve. he hadn’t expected to spend his night like this. definitely hadn’t expected to be holding a half-empty juice pouch kai handed him earlier with the phrase “just finish it, it’s good.”

his friends were a few feet back, skipping stones and quietly arguing about whether or not jellyfish could survive in cold water.

and kai?

kai was just watching him now. like really watching him.

“…what?”

“you like my sister?”

haruka froze mid-step.

“…what?”

“you like my sister?” kai repeated with way too much confidence for someone missing both front teeth. “you always look at her funny. not in a bad way. just in a ‘you think she’s cool but you don’t know how to talk about it’ way.”

haruka blinked. “do you do this to everyone?”

“only people who think she’s pretty.”

haruka kicked a pebble into the surf, suddenly very interested in the moon’s reflection. “…she’s cool.”

“that’s not a no.”

“that’s none of your business.”

kai gave a satisfied hum, skipping a rock with surprising accuracy for a child whose socks never matched.

“you know, she works really hard,” he said after a moment. “she always thinks no one sees it, but i do.”

haruka glanced sideways.

“i see it too.”

“she’s gonna cry if you say that.”

“good. maybe she needs to.”

another silence.

“i won’t tell her you said that,” kai added like a promise, which made haruka’s ears turn pink.

“…thanks.”

kai looked back at the water.

“hey,” he said suddenly. “if you do like her, you gotta help her sometimes. even if she doesn’t ask.”

haruka’s brows drew together.

“that’s kinda random.”

“not really,” kai said, shrugging. “i just think she’s too used to doing everything alone.”

and somehow… that part hit harder than all the teasing.

haruka looked back out at the ocean, at the way the tide rolled in and out without asking for help. quiet. constant. like her.

“…i’ll remember that.”

kai smiled, big and toothless. “cool.”

behind them, the others called out something about heading back. kai took off running again, stick in hand, yelling about wanting to beat arata in another round of uno.

haruka stood there a second longer.

just breathing in the salt air.

and thinking about how it already felt like he was in over his head.

₍^. .^₎⟆

it was nearing 1:30 a.m. by the time you turned the key in the lock.

the house was dark, the porch light still flickering from its loose bulb — the kind of thing you meant to fix three weeks ago but kept forgetting about. you sighed as you stepped inside, toes instinctively careful not to squeak against the floorboards that always gave you away.

you had expected silence.

you didn’t expect the soft thrum of a muted tv screen or the warm, lopsided mess of bodies piled in your living room like a makeshift sleepover camp.

kai was curled up on one end of the couch, half-buried in what looked like haruka’s hoodie, drooling peacefully with one sock missing and a handful of goldfish crackers clutched in his tiny fist.

two of haruka’s friends were passed out on the floor — one face-down with a controller still in hand, the other tangled in a throw pillow like it had wronged him in a past life. another had taken up half your bean bag chair, snoring quietly under a backpack.

and haruka?

he was sitting slouched against the wall just beneath your window, legs stretched out, head tilted slightly, already halfway to sleep.

the sight of them all — exhausted and still here — softened something heavy in your chest.

no one moved.

not even when you tiptoed to the closet and pulled out every blanket you could find. you didn’t wake anyone. didn’t even say a word.

you just started covering them, one by one. tucking a blanket over your brother’s small frame. draping another gently across haruka’s knees, careful not to disturb him. pausing, just for a second, when you noticed how peaceful he looked in the low light.

like the waves you chased each morning — calm, even if only for now.

you didn’t linger long. just whispered a soft “thanks” into the space between you and them, too quiet to be heard but loud enough in your heart.

and then you padded back toward your room, the weight of the day catching up with you — exhaustion in your bones, but something lighter in your chest.

for the first time in a long time… you didn’t feel alone in this.

₍^. .^₎⟆

the smell of toast and instant coffee filled the kitchen — not gourmet, but warm. familiar.

you were half asleep, still in a t-shirt too big for you and socks that didn’t match, elbow propped against the counter as you stirred sugar into your mug. the early sun spilled through the small window above the sink, golden and slow, turning everything soft. you hadn’t expected anyone else to be up yet.

but then you heard him.

a yawn, the creak of your old wooden chair shifting slightly.

haruka.

he was sitting at your tiny kitchen table, half awake, hoodie slipping off one shoulder, hair sticking up a little. he blinked at you once, twice, like even he wasn’t sure how he got there.

“…morning,” you mumbled, handing him the coffee you’d already poured — just how he took it. somehow, you remembered.

“…thanks,” he said, voice low and scratchy from sleep. he took it like it meant more than he wanted to admit.

you leaned against the counter again, sipping your own mug, letting the silence stretch between you — not awkward, just there. like the space between waves.

“sorry for crashing your place,” he said eventually, thumb brushing against the side of the warm ceramic. “wasn’t really the plan.”

“it’s alright,” you replied. “kai had fun.”

“he’s kind of cool,” haruka said, and that made you smile a little.

he glanced up, eyes finding yours for a second too long. like he wanted to say something else. ask something, maybe. instead, he just said, “you looked tired last night.”

“i was.”

“…you okay now?”

you paused.

there was something in the way he asked. not nosy. not casual. just… genuine.

“not really,” you said honestly. “but i’m managing.”

haruka nodded once, eyes still on you.

“if you need help…” he started, voice almost a whisper.

“i know.”

and that was it.

simple. raw. unfinished.

but enough.

then — chaos.

a loud thud down the hall, followed by the unmistakable patter of socks skidding across wood. kai barreled into the kitchen with all the force of a small, determined hurricane.

“haruka!” he yelled, crumbs already on his cheek. “can you come over after school?! she’s working another night shift and i’m gonna be soooo bored and your friends are cool and i want to try beating arata at uno again!!”

before either of you could respond, the rest of haruka’s friends came shuffling in behind him — one stretching, one with bedhead, one holding your last granola bar with absolutely no shame.

haruka blinked, mildly stunned.

you raised a brow. “your fan club’s here early.”

“not my fault,” he muttered into his mug, clearly flustered but doing his best to pretend he wasn’t.

kai looked between the two of you with a knowing squint.

“soooo… is that a yes?”

haruka glanced at you, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to answer for yourself.

“yeah,” he said, setting down his coffee. “i’ll be here.”

kai fist-pumped like he just won the lottery.

and behind him, his friends started arguing about who got the good controller.

you just exhaled a laugh, half-exasperated, half-relieved.

₍^. .^₎⟆

[9:43 PM] haruka:

yo.

just making sure you’re still alive in there.

[9:44 PM] haruka:

kai beat me at uno again. 100% cheated. thought you should know.

also he made us watch that weird shark movie you said he loved. the cgi was… traumatizing.

[9:46 PM] haruka:

anyway.

i know tonight sucks.

but you’re doing a lot.

a lot of good.

even if you feel like you’re drowning half the time.

[9:46 PM] haruka:

…surf joke not intended but i guess it fits.

[9:47 PM] haruka:

kai’s knocked out on the couch again btw.

i’ll stick around til you’re back.

[9:47 PM] haruka:

text me if you want me to bring you something on break. or just rant. or exist quietly in your inbox. i’m good at that.

₍^. .^₎⟆

the house was dark when you pulled up — again. porch light still flickering. your key still sticking in the lock. the same kind of tired still sitting deep in your shoulders, maybe even deeper in your chest.

you stepped inside carefully, grocery store sneakers squeaking just a little too loud on the wood.

but this time… you weren’t greeted by silence.

a soft glow from the living room tv danced across the walls. low volume. some old cartoon kai liked, probably something he’d made haruka suffer through twice.

kai was knocked out cold on the couch again, limbs sprawled out like a starfish, his blanket kicked off halfway. you stepped closer and carefully tugged it back over his shoulders.

and then you noticed him.

haruka was still there.

curled up on the far end of the couch, hoodie pulled over his head, but not asleep. his eyes opened the second you shifted the front door shut behind you.

he sat up slowly, blinking at you.

“…you made it.”

“barely,” you whispered, dropping your keys into the dish by the door. “is he okay?”

“mmhm,” haruka nodded, glancing down at kai. “passed out after demanding three bedtime stories. i compromised with half of one.”

you smiled, something small but real. then you looked at him, really looked — and quietly stated, “you didn’t have to stay.”

haruka leaned back against the couch cushion, arms crossed loosely. “i know. just figured… you shouldn’t come home to an empty house. not tonight.”

you paused in the hallway, shoes half-kicked off, fingers brushing against the wall as you steadied yourself from more than just exhaustion.

“…thank you,” you said softly. “for being here.”

he shrugged once, like it wasn’t a big deal. like he hadn’t stayed up past midnight with a kid who wasn’t his responsibility and sent you a message that managed to hit deeper than most people had in years.

“you looked like you needed someone to show up.”

you stared at him for a moment.

then crossed the room and sat beside him, both of you looking ahead, watching the silent cartoon flicker.

“you hungry?” you asked eventually.

“kind of.”

“we’ve got half a box of cereal and an unopened bag of mini marshmallows.”

“gourmet,” he said with a quiet laugh.

you leaned your head against the back of the couch and closed your eyes for a second.

haruka didn’t say anything more.

but he didn’t leave, either.

and that meant everything.

copyright © t4kalcvr 2025 all rights reserved

💬, lwk guys i dont know why i always gotta write long ass fics 😭😭 i can never write genuine oneshots, i like long romance I NEED THE SLOW BURN STUFF. anyways i’ll start working on part two asap :b lol i always reach the text block limit thingy

[aventurineswife]

No Monsters Here, Only Me

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Robin x Reader, Jiaoqiu x Reader, Fluff & Comfort, Established Relationship, Nightmare Comfort, Cuddling & Physical Affection, Soft & Gentle Moments, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Support & Reassurance, Tender Domesticity.

Warnings: Mentions of Nightmares/Fear (Mild anxiety and distress due to nightmares), Mild Horror Mentions, Light Touch of Angst, Soft Physical Contact (Hand-holding, hugging, cuddling, ear-petting for Jiaoqiu, etc.), Safe & Comforting Themes.

A/N: AHHHH TYYY 🥹🥹‼️‼️

Tagslist: @notallgraymaugray

You should have known better than to let Aventurine pick the movie. What started as a casual night of gambling-themed horror ended with you clutching the blankets, heart pounding from the eerie visuals still burned into your mind. Even now, in the quiet darkness of the bedroom, you could still see those grotesque figures lurking in the shadows.

A rustling sound beside you made you jolt, only to be met with Aventurine’s soft chuckle.

"Darling, if you squeeze that blanket any tighter, you might just strangle it," he teased, rolling onto his side to face you. His magenta and cyan eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, amusement flickering in their depths.

You huffed, still shaken. "It’s your fault! You picked the scariest one."

"And you went along with it," he pointed out smugly, propping himself up on one elbow. His overcoat had long been discarded, leaving him in a silk pajama top with the first few buttons undone, a sight that would normally be distracting—if you weren’t currently terrified.

Aventurine sighed dramatically, reaching out to brush his fingers against your cheek. "Alright, alright. I suppose it's only fair that I make amends. How about this?" He tapped his chin, pretending to consider. "I’ll make you a bet. If you can stay awake for another hour, I’ll owe you a favor. Any favor."

You frowned. "How does that help me sleep?"

"Ah, you misunderstand. Because I guarantee you won’t last five minutes," he said smoothly. Before you could protest, he slid closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. His body was warm, a stark contrast to the lingering chill of fear in your veins.

With gentle ease, Aventurine started murmuring in a low, velvety voice—nonsense words at first, laced with amusement, before shifting into a slow, rhythmic hum. His fingers traced idle patterns along your back, lulling you into a trance-like state.

"See, sweetheart? No ghosts, no monsters. Just you, me, and a very comfortable bed," he whispered.

Despite yourself, your eyes grew heavier. His voice, his warmth, the steady beat of his heart—all of it was grounding, safe.

"You’re cheating," you mumbled sleepily.

Aventurine chuckled, placing a feather-light kiss against your forehead. "I never play fair."

And with that, you drifted off, nightmares forgotten.

The moment you woke up trembling from your nightmare, Robin noticed. She had been lightly dozing beside you, but the way you curled into yourself, breathing unevenly, made her reach out immediately.

"Darling?" Her voice was soft, a gentle melody in the quiet night.

You swallowed thickly, trying to shake off the lingering fear. "I—It’s nothing. Just... that stupid horror movie."

Robin sat up, her hair cascading over her shoulder as she turned to you. Even in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, her luminous eyes held warmth and understanding. Without a word, she shifted closer, wrapping her arms around you in a comforting embrace.

"Would you like me to sing for you?" she murmured against your temple.

You nodded, pressing yourself into her warmth.

Robin’s voice was a gift, a celestial sound that had captivated audiences across the cosmos. But here, in the privacy of your shared space, her lullaby was something more—intimate, soothing. The melody was slow and tender, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon.

As she sang, she stroked your hair, her touch feather-light and reassuring. "There’s nothing to fear, my love," she whispered between verses. "I am here."

The rhythmic rise and fall of her voice, combined with the gentle pressure of her embrace, slowly eased the tension in your body. Your eyelids grew heavy, the terrifying images from your nightmare fading into the soft lull of her song.

Just as sleep claimed you once more, you felt Robin press a kiss to your forehead, her voice fading into a whisper.

"Sweet dreams, my love."

The nightmare had left you shaken, and Jiaoqiu could tell the moment you stiffened beside him in bed. Without a word, he slipped out of the blankets, moving gracefully despite the dim lighting.

You sat up, watching as he disappeared into the next room. A moment later, the soft clinking of porcelain and the faint scent of herbs filled the air.

When Jiaoqiu returned, he carried a delicate teacup in his hands, steam rising from the surface. "Chamomile and honey," he said, offering it to you. "Drink. It will help."

You accepted it gratefully, the warmth seeping into your fingers. Taking a sip, you sighed as the soothing flavors melted some of your lingering unease.

Jiaoqiu sat beside you, his large fox ears twitching slightly as he observed you with quiet concern. "Nightmares are tricky things," he mused. "Even when you know they aren't real, they cling to you."

You nodded, staring into the tea. "Yeah… I still feel like something's watching me."

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes. Then, with a small, knowing smile, he reached for one of your hands, guiding it toward his fox ears.

"Here," he murmured. "Pet them."

Your breath hitched. "Are you sure?"

Jiaoqiu chuckled, the sound soft and low. "If it will help you sleep, then yes."

Tentatively, you reached up, running your fingers through the soft fur. It was even silkier than you had imagined, warmth radiating beneath your touch. Jiaoqiu let out a content sigh, his tail curling slightly behind him.

"Better?" he asked, voice quieter now.

You nodded, the repetitive motion grounding you. Between the tea, his warmth, and the soft comfort of his fur, the fear slowly ebbed away.

Jiaoqiu leaned in, whispering against your ear, "You are safe with me."

And in that moment, you truly believed him.

You jolted awake, your heart pounding. The room was silent, save for the steady rhythm of Dan Heng’s breathing beside you.

You tried to steady yourself, but the remnants of the horror movie still clung to your thoughts. A hand suddenly brushed against yours, grounding you.

Dan Heng stirred, eyes flickering open. "Another nightmare?"

You hesitated before nodding. He sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. Instead of speaking, he reached for the book on his nightstand.

"Come here," he said gently, opening it.

You shifted closer, resting your head against his shoulder as he began to read. His voice was steady, low, and soothing, the rhythmic cadence of each word lulling you away from your fear.

Dan Heng rarely offered comfort in obvious ways, but this—his warmth, the steady hum of his voice, the way he subconsciously traced circles against your arm—was enough.

Minutes passed, your eyelids growing heavier with each page. Sensing your drowsiness, Dan Heng adjusted his grip, gently pulling you into his embrace.

"You’re safe," he murmured against your hair, his voice barely above a whisper.

And with that, you finally let sleep take you, nightmares forgotten in the safety of his arms.

[swe3theart-succubus]

community service - rafe cameron smau

PT. 4

not even an hour after his soul was shattered by a six-year-old’s art critique, you roped him into helping with some outdoor activity.

“grab the cones,” you said, brushing past him with an armful of hula hoops. “and the parachute.”

he blinked. “the what?”

you just jerked your chin toward the rainbow monstrosity draped over the bleachers, like it didn’t look like clown laundry.

“parachute games,” you added over your shoulder. “it’s on the schedule. let’s go, trust fund.”

rafe considered pretending to pull something in his ankle from that malachi incident. he really did.

but instead, he grabbed the cones, the parachute, and his dwindling pride, and followed you out to the field.

setting up was fine. simple enough.

if you ignored the sun, the humidity, the grass stains already on his sneakers, and the fact that you kept handing him things without asking and expecting him to know what to do with them.

then the kids came running out, screeching like gremlins set loose from a cage.

he stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching you herd them into some kind of circle.

“alright, everyone say thank you, mr. rafe, for helping us set up!”

“THANK YOU, MISTER RAFE!” they chorused, loud and shrill.

he gave a single, dry thumbs-up. “yup.”

rafe turned around to leave. back to the air-conditioning. the painfully slow, but free wifi. back to the snack cabinet where he fully intended to steal a fistful of goldfish and a pack of gummies before disappearing to the staff bathroom for the next twenty minutes.

and then-

“hey! hold up. come back.”

he paused. should’ve kept walking. should’ve pretended he didn’t hear you. but he turned anyway, brows furrowed, phone already halfway out his pocket.

you were standing in the middle of a barely-organized circle of kids, the giant rainbow parachute pooled at your feet.

“grab a side,” you said, nodding toward the nylon nightmare like it made sense. “join the circle.”

he squinted at you. “why?”

you tilted your head, already chewing gum, already looking like this was obvious.

“because you’re tall.”

he blinked. “what the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“language,” you warned immediately, before popping your gum. “and it means your arms are long enough to get a good lift. duh.”

it felt like a setup. a trap wrapped in bright colors and childhood joy. and he was walking right into it.

but still, he sighed, shoved his phone back in his pocket, and trudged across the field like a man headed to the gallows.

a six-year-old handed him a side of the parachute with sticky fingers and a gap-toothed smile. “you gotta hold tight,” she said seriously. “real tight. or it don’t mushroom.”

“oh,” rafe muttered. “we wouldn’t want that.”

he looked up to find you watching him from across the circle. grinning. like this was all going exactly how you’d planned.

“on three,” you called out, your voice bright and bossy and way too cheerful for how hot it was outside. “ready? one, two, three—UP!”

the parachute shot up.

or—it was supposed to. rafe’s side sagged a little. the kid next to him scowled like he’d just ruined christmas.

“sorry,” he muttered, adjusting his grip.

“again!” you shouted.

this time, it caught air. floated up like a wave of technicolor chaos.

the kids squealed and ducked underneath it, scrambling into the center as it drifted down. one of them grabbed rafe’s leg on the way through.

“you’re base!” the kid yelled, already hiding under the parachute.

“i’m what?”

“base!” another one shouted. “don’t move!”

“don’t move?” he repeated, baffled, but before he could ask for clarification, three children had attached themselves to his legs like barnacles.

he stood there—sweaty, confused, kind of panicking—with two toddlers wrapped around his knees and one leaning against his shin like a body pillow.

he didn’t move. partially because they told him not to. mostly because he wasn’t entirely sure he could.

“uh,” he called across the dome of nylon, “a little help?”

your face popped under the parachute a second later, glowing with mischief and sweat. “you’re doing great.”

“i’m being held hostage.”

“they like you.”

“they’re smothering me.”

“still counts,” you said with a wink.

then you ducked back out, leaving him alone with the tiny gremlins and the echoey heat under the parachute.

one of the kids tugged on his shirt and whispered, “don’t worry. if the lava gets you, i’ll avenge your death.”

“thanks,” rafe muttered, staring up at the canopy of color. “'preciate it.”

eventually, the parachute drifted down and you called an end to the game. the kids released him one by one, giggling and sticky, running off toward the hula hoops.

rafe peeled a rogue sticker off his forearm and watched you laugh with a couple of the kids, adjusting a crooked crown one of them had made out of pipe cleaners and construction paper.

you were glowing. literally glowing. like the sun loved you back.

he turned away quickly, pretending to wipe his face with the collar of his shirt like it wasn’t just to avoid being caught staring.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ

you told the kids to grab water and cool down before hula hoop relays started, herding them toward the drink table like ducklings with heat exhaustion.

you tried not to watch.

you really did.

you had every intention of focusing on the activities, on keeping the kids organized, on making sure no one ate grass or cried because their hula hoop was too big.

but then rafe said came when you called. and you forgot what professionalism was.

because watching him—tall, stubborn, always slightly annoyed—get absolutely bodied by three toddlers with sticky hands and no sense of personal space?

yeah. that did something to you.

you popped your gum to hide your smile, eyes tracking him as he walked over to the water table and grabbed one of the tiny cups with his giant hands.

he looked out of place and way too pretty, sweaty and sunlit, with a bead of sweat trailing down the side of his face.

you looked away quickly. toed an ant pile. regretted it when they started scurrying out like they also wanted a glance at rafe. looked back up at him.

there was something about the way he leaned over to refill his tiny cup. the way his arms were sweaty and shiny and veiny. the way his jaw clenched every time a kid screamed near his ear, like he was debating whether or not jail would really be that bad.

you popped your gum again and turned around, trying to focus. clipboards. cones. water breaks. sanity.

you repeated the words in your head like a mantra. like maybe if you focused hard enough, they’d drown out the image of rafe standing there with his stupid jaw and sweat dripping down his neck like a goddamn sports drink commercial.

it didn’t work.

because then he bent down to tie his shoe. and his shirt pulled tight across his back. and you blacked out a little.

but of course, that’s when he called out.

“hey,” his voice, scratchy and sun-warmed, carried too easily across the field. “where do the little monsters put their trash?”

you turned just in time to catch a plastic wrapper stuck to his shoulder. his arm flexed as he reached for it, fingertips falling slightly short.

you crossed the field, chewing your gum and trying very hard not to stare at his arms again.

“you mean the angels?” you teased, plucking the wrapper off him and dramatically brushing his shoulder like he was in a lint roller commercial.

he gave you a look. “one of them bit me.”

“consider it a compliment.”

“they’ve also drawn me as a demon, called me old, and forced me to play lava tag.”

you smiled sweetly. “wow. it’s almost like they like you.”

rafe scoffed. muttered something under his breath. then drained the rest of his water cup like it had personally exhausted him.

you watched the muscles in his throat flex as he tipped the cup back.

you locked that image away for later.

and then immediately regretted that thought, because he licked a drop of water from his bottom lip like this wasn’t already hard enough.

he lowered the cup, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and tossed the wrapper in the trash bag hanging off one of the cones.

“what’s next?” he asked, squinting at the field like he was already regretting it.

you blinked. “what?”

he nodded at the hula hoops. “you said there were relays or something.”

right. right. relays. cones. children.

you cleared your throat, snapping your clipboard up into your hands like it could protect you from the sinful curve of his arms. “uh—yeah. right. hoop races.”

“and what do i do?” he asked, already sounding suspicious.

you tilted your head. “you help me demo it.”

he stared. “you want me to hula hoop?”

“you’re tall,” you said again, shrugging.

“what does that have to do with—never mind.” he sighed, already walking toward the row of hoops.

you handed him a neon pink hula hoop and ignored the way your fingers brushed.

or—tried to. because your whole hand felt warm after. stupidly warm. traitorous.

he gave you a look. “pink?”

you shrugged. “it brings out your eyes.”

he rolled them. “you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

you smiled, wide and innocent. “i’m enjoying it so much.”

he gave you a narrowed look, then glanced back at the hula hoop in his hands like it had personally offended him.

“how do i even…” he started, gesturing vaguely at his hips.

you popped your gum. “you know how.”

“i don’t.”

you tilted your head. “liar.”

he scoffed. “i’m not shaking my ass in front of a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

“not with that attitude.”

rafe gave you a look and opened his mouth to say something but you were already stepping forward.

you lifted your own hoop—bright blue—and swung it around your hips with practiced ease, smirking as the kids whooped and clapped like you were a halftime show.

“see?” you said, breathless and smug. “not that hard.”

he stepped into the pink hoop like it was cursed. “i hate this already.”

he held the hoop in place, shoulders tense, jaw tight. he looked like a man preparing for war, not a basic demonstration.

“just relax,” you said, still spinning. “it’s all in the hips.”

“don’t say that to me right now.”

but he did it. he tried—hips stuttering forward, the hoop wobbling once, twice, before dropping straight to his ankles with a sad little thud.

a collective awwwwww rang out from the kids.

“you suck, mr. rafe!” one of them yelled helpfully.

“yeah!” another added. “your butt doesn’t move right!”

“thank you for the feedback,” rafe said flatly, bending to pick the hoop back up. “deeply appreciated.”

you were laughing now, hand pressed to your mouth, shoulders shaking.

he glanced at you—flustered, sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead—and you couldn’t help it.

“don’t worry,” you said, still laughing. “i’ll give you a private lesson later.”

you didn’t mean it to sound like that.

but the words were out before you could stop them.

rafe’s head turned slowly—too slowly—like he wanted to make sure you heard the gears turning in that smug, dangerous brain of his.

he straightened up, a slow smirk pulling at his mouth. brows raised. eyes gleaming. dangerous.

“oh yeah?” he said, voice low and cocky, just loud enough for you to hear. “private, huh?”

you blinked. “that’s not—I didn’t mean it like—”

“because i’m down,” he said, spinning the pink hoop around his wrist like a cocky idiot. “if you’re offering.”

you narrowed your eyes, trying so hard to look authoritative while very obviously blushing. “wipe that look off your face.”

“what look?”

“you know what look.”

he grinned wider. “this is just my face.”

“unfortunate,” you muttered, turning sharply on your heel like your cheeks weren’t actively on fire.

behind you, he laughed. full-on, stupidly attractive, smug bastard laughed.

you didn’t turn around. not when your heart was doing backflips. not when you could still feel the warmth of his gaze following you like heat on the back of your neck.

you blew another bubble with your gum. popped it. hard. then shouted, “alright! teams of three, line up! hoop relays starting now!”

the kids cheered and scrambled into place. you handed out hula hoops and laid out the rules, pretending your hands weren’t still shaking and your brain wasn’t definitely replaying private lesson on a loop.

you felt rafe step beside you again—close, but not touching.

“you blushed,” he said under his breath.

you didn’t look at him. “did not.”

“did too.”

“must’ve been the heat.”

“uh huh.” his voice was smug and syrupy. “must’ve been.”

you turned just enough to glare at him. “don’t you have children to lose to?”

“harsh,” he said, clearly trying not to smile. “you’re mean when you’re flustered.”

“i’m not flustered,” you lied.

he gave a low, amused hum. the kind that made your skin warm in places you weren’t gonna acknowledge right now.

the first race started—three kids zig-zagging awkwardly across the grass, hoops bouncing around their knees—and you should’ve been watching them. should’ve been scanning for trip hazards, dehydration, bee stings, something.

instead, you were hyper-aware of the way rafe’s arm brushed yours every time he leaned slightly to the side. of the way his breath was just audible enough when he laughed at a kid falling dramatically into the grass. of the way he smelled—sun, sweat, and whatever expensive cologne he hadn't sweated off yet.

you blinked hard and pulled away half a step.

“you’re in my bubble,” you said.

“you’re in denial,” he countered.

you turned your head slowly, met his eyes. he was already smirking.

“go pick up cones,” you snapped.

he raised his brows. “what if i don’t?”

“then i’ll write you up.”

he looked genuinely amused now. “you can do that?”

“i run this place,” you said, lifting your clipboard for dramatic effect. “i can do anything.”

he leaned in, voice low and way too smug. “anything?”

you turned sharply, nearly smacked him with the clipboard. “cones. now.”

“yes, ma’am,” he said, backing away slowly, grin still carved into his stupid, sun-kissed face.

you watched him go for half a second too long. his shirt clinging to his back. his hair a mess. his arms flexing as he bent down to grab the cones one by one.

god, you couldn't wait for his hours to be completed.

[spotaus]

NewAge Idea I'm throwing into the void so I'll remember it lol.

Killer + Chara reunion (doesn't end well)!

Because after Chara leaves Killer alone early/pre-story they just kinda... disappears? I know they obv abandon Killer after he doesn't come back to them, they run off... but I don't think they have the guts to cross the border of Orchard. To escape. (The threat of the Whistlers finding them escaped still feels fresh.)

Not 100% what I want them to have been doing in the meantime?? They were initially a petty thief so I *could* see them continuing down that path. Either professional thief living on the edge, or stealing from the wrong person and getting pulled into debts with the black market. They did really enjoy pushing Killer around as a "pawn" so they'd make a good small ring leader. Or perhaps they find another line of mundane profession.

Regardless, the reunion would happen After Killer's major injury from Night's kidnapping and he's back out doing normal missions (though reduced slightly, because Night and Ccino are still cautious) and him and one of the others are just doing a hunt-down of some major criminal or answering a distress call. And it's completely unrelated that Killer and Chara are in the same place.

Part of me thinks (the bigger part) that Chara is the one to approach Killer. (Holding resentment for his "betrayal", holding moral high-ground over him for not serving the new God-King, Always thinking of him as lesser, even as he's riding a beautiful steed and obviously healthy and happy doing his job.) After his job has concluded, or even during it, they waltz up and call him by first name. And citizens tend to approach them to thank them, but no one says their names. Killer is confused, turns, and stares blankly at this human for a few seconds.

He... doesn't know this person? He doesn't recognize them, until they frown at him, and begin to say sonething like, 'Too good to talk to me now, partner?' And it clicks for him that. Oh. *Oh*. Chara. Their hair is a lot longer, they let it grow out, their red eyes are hidden by too-long messy bangs. They're a lot taller than they used to be, wear newer, better clothes. But that way their mouth twists and their eyes widen when they're upset is the exact same. And frankly, he doesn't know how to react.

Killer? Killer had been so completely loved and cherished and trusted by his new family? He had so completely built himself from the ground up since leaving Chara? The Killer they knew doesn't exist anymore. Chara hasn't occurred to him to even *think* to factor into this new life of his.

The old hurt burns for a moment. Seeing them here. Now. But... it putters out as he goes to talk. Saying their name alone. With a smile, and crescent eyes. It feels like the name of a stranger on his tongue as he stares at them.

However? Whatever other knight is with him? They *know* that name. From nights when they would get wasted in the kitchen and Killer, once or twice, would break into angry, regretful, tearful stories about this human. Chara. Someone from, not just his past, but from his childhood. Before he met Nightmare, before he met any of them. And they know that Killer used to be torn up about them. This human. It *has* been years since he's done it, bring them up, but still. (Cross has at least heard a bit of the ranting, though not as dramatically as Dust + Horror heard.)

It would depend on who was there how they'd react, of course.

Cross, curious and cautious, but fiercely protective of his family? Circles right around on his horse to also stare down Chara. Asks Killer who they are (though he kinda already knows). He gives the directive over to Killer to decide what reaction he wants from Cross. He lets Killer give him the signal to either stand down or raise his guard and prepare to back him. He's heard bits and pieces of the story, so if he gets the signal, he'll go for the throat if needed.

Horror misses the name, but he knows Killer's body language and he knows Killer rarely stops for conversations when he's riding Granite (double check this name later?). He usually dismounts because it makes him seem more personable and he likes the close-proximity (makes him feel confident). So Killer staying on horseback shows him that sonething's different. He rounds Basalt in a large arc that goes unnoticed by Chara so he's behind them by a distance. In Killer's line of sight. Killer won't interfere unless he sees Killer in distress, but a few seconds in he realizes this is that human kid Killer was so torn up about. Who made him feel like shit. He has a feeling Killer won't forgive and forget.

Dust... well, Dust is his closest friend, his closest brother, Dust knows Killer like the back of his hand. When he hears Chara speak and call Killer 'partner' he knows exactly who they are. Him and Opal are beside Killer and Granite in half a second. He doesn't say anything, unlike Cross, but he watches. He is stock-still and stares at Chara like they're a bug. His storm is brewing, swirling, tye lightning *begging* to fry this human into the ground. The only thing holding him back is that Killer hasn't made any moves. He knows how important it is for Killer to confront this loser human on his own terms, he trusts Killer is better and has grown so far past this little worm, *but* if he sees any sign of Killer's discomfort? Dust will fry first ask questions later and drag their half-dead body back to the castle and lock them in the dungeon himself.

And I think that no matter who is there, having one of his brothers beside him makes him even more assured that he's grown. He's grown beyond the Killer who followed Chara's every word and always came running back. He's beyond Chara.

Best case, he listens to them attempt to berate him. Scorn him for leaving them to fend for themselves and bending to the first person who made him kneel to them. Cursing him for giving up his life of freedom to serve the same family who wanted him to kill. Them to be killed. And look at what he ended up doing, Killing just as they wanted him to back at [the temple, which I will finally name]. He just listens until they run out of breath, and they take deep frustrated gasps still just like they did when they were kids, and then he grins. It is a tight grin, not the one seen by his friends, the one his enemies see as he's about to gut them personally. Because everything they berated him for? He's been over it. A billion times in his head, worrying and worrying that it was just another situation where he was being manipulated. But his family, when he expressed worry? They helped him. Proved through word and action that he wasn't just a pawn or killing machine. They made him stop worrying over that years ago. And hearing it from Chara, his past manipulator? Yeah, it proves yet again that it was nothing but fear. Ridiculous.

My tired brain says he grins at them for a bit, before laughing and saying it was bold of them to speak their mind like that straight in front of two Knights of the King Nightmare. Just because they used to be friends, it doesn't mean they get a free pass.

That reaction, no fear and an easygoing attitude? Passes Chara off even more. They'd fearlessly try and recount the old days.

Whichhhh would reveal some really shady crimes. And statute of limitation doesn't exist yet lmao. Killer would have every right to lean down and cuff/arrest Chara. They'd try and point out he did those crimes with them, and Killer would just be like 'One of us got a pardon and the other hasn't. :)' And then assure them he'll have the King personally meet them to discuss their crimes.

Okay I'm stopping that line of thought there.

But upon Night hearing Chara is down in his dungeon? He doesn't keep many criminals at all anymore, it's actually mostly still just Dream, Ink, and Blue atm. He wants to see Chara for himself. See who hurt Killer so badly in the past and to hear what motives them to do so. He knows a little from Killer. That they came from Whistling, that Nim was to have them sacrificed (*in her honor, she wasn't directly aware of every temple), and that they used him as a tool rather than a friend. Killer came to him lost and unsure of himself.

*plus* it seems Killer really has healed in his time separated from Chara. Enough-so that he doesn't even want to bother with Chara's fate. They didn't care for him, and they were never friends. Just two kids trying to survive in a kingdom which wanted them dead. They both did stupid shit and they've both grown up since they last spoke. He wants to treat it as any other case.

So Night (joined by Horror because Humans are usually physical combatants if anything goes wrong) does his usual shpeal about asking his questions and letting the prisoner ask their own or talk and rant. They go over it for a long time. Chara feels empowered by Nightmare's small stature, and so they spill more of their true nature. Nightmare? Nightmare decides to banish them from Orchard. If they're spotted within borders they were to be executed on the spot. Just like spies and other criminals who have yet to directly harm anyone.

....The fact that he has no doubt they'll return anyways and fall into the hands of a city guard who will handle them like the petty criminal they are? Well, that has nothing to do with the ruling.

[robron-til-the-end-of-time]

I have a fic prompts:

Where Aaron and Robert can’t be in the same room without kissing / making out or more but they are interrupted (by various characters- John, Vinny, Vic etc!) and then the one time they do get caught (by Chas/ similar to when Paddy caught them together)- maybe 5 times & one time thing 👀

So this is probably (definitely) more fun and flirty and less angsty and traumatic than what we’re bound to get on screen, but it’s a fun prompt so I hope this satisfies! I tried to keep it as short as possible, but I definitely could have got carried away! ___

Cain.

Aaron had been walking past the cemetery when he saw Robert. He wasn’t at his parents gravestones though, Aaron knew where they were, then he realised. He was at Liv’s. Aaron debated it for a second, then walked into the graveyard, towards Robert.

“I saw you coming,” Robert said, still looking at the headstone. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

“Do you know,” Aaron said. “I can’t believe she’s gone either, and I was there.”

“I miss her,” Robert said. “Her smart mouth and scowling and… the way that sometimes she behaved just like you.”

“Don’t,” Aaron said. Robert shook his head, looking away and Aaron wasn’t entirely sure how it happened. One second his hand was on Robert’s back, the next he’d kissed him. A soft, gentle, brief kiss, just a press of lips really. But it ignited the flood gates and Robert looked stunned when he pulled back.

“Wait,” Robert said. The next kiss wasn’t brief. It was full of anger, sadness, desperation, Robert’s hand on the back of Aaron’s neck, pulling him close. The feel of him so close was intoxicating and it was only broken by the squeak of the gate. They broke apart, Aaron looking guilty, Robert shocked. They both turned and saw Cain with a bunch of flowers. It was clear that Cain hadn’t seen their embrace, but he came towards the two of them anyway.

“Nate,” Cain said in explanation.

“Liv,” Robert said. They nodded in agreement, but that had been close. After that first time, they tried to be careful. Honestly. In the end, they just couldn’t resist the magnetic pull of each other.

Jimmy.

“Just like old times,” Robert teased, closing the door to the portacabin.

“I’m working,” Aaron said, but his eyes were sparkling and Robert knew this was foreplay.

“Are you sure?” Robert said, leaning over the desk, definitely eye fucking.

“You’re a nightmare,” Aaron said.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” Robert said.

“Sometimes I would,” Aaron said. Robert leaned closer, and Aaron reached up, kissing him.

“But not today?” Robert whispered against his lips.

“No,” Aaron said, kissing him again. “Not today.” Aaron broke off the kiss so he could move around the desk and get his hands on Robert properly. Robert smirked as Aaron’s fingers reached under his shirt, stroking up his body and he arched into the touch. 

“I’ve missed this,” Robert whispered against his mouth. “You’ve no idea.”

“Yes I do,” Aaron said. He wanted Robert naked, but was also aware they were in the scrapyard. Anyone could walk in.

“God, it’s cold!” Jimmy said, coming in and making them break apart. Luckily, Jimmy’s obliviousness worked to their advantage. “You two lads fighting or making up?” Jimmy asked. “I can’t keep up.”

“Probably making up,” Robert said. “Out of those two options? What about the Smithsons contract?”

Vic.

“Vic said you were back here,” Robert said, coming into the back room.

“Looking after Eve,” Aaron said, watching the kid on the floor, playing with her toys.

“God, doesn’t time go,” Robert said, sitting on the sofa next to Aaron.

“If you’re looking for a quickie…”

“Yeah, in front of a five year old, that’s exactly what I’m after,” Robert said. “I mean, I am, but..”

Aaron chuckled. “You’ve only got one thing on your mind.”

“Nope,” Robert said. “I have many things going through my head at the same time. How do I get Aaron alone, how does he feel under my hands, how do I push John into the quarry without winding up my probation officer?”

Aaron didn’t want to laugh at the joke, but he did. Because of the company, Robert didn’t kiss him, but he did entwine his fingers with Aaron’s. Aaron squeezed his hand back, gentle touches soft. Almost flirting.

“Robert?” They both jumped apart, much more guiltily than simple hand holding should create as Vic came in. “Am I interrupting?”

“Oh yeah,” Robert said sarcastically. “I’m about to jump Aaron while his little sister’s here aren’t I?” He quickly made his escape, leaving Vic staring at Aaron.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t invite him here," Aaron said.

“Don’t you dare make Robert think he has hope,” Vic said. “I’m serious. It’ll ruin everything, and he’s trying so hard to move on.”

“I don’t need the lecture Vic.”

Ruby.

As attuned to Aaron’s presence as he was, Robert watched as Aaron’s car drove down the drive to the Mill. Robert followed, Aaron shutting the car door as he looked up, smiling at Robert. “Why is it that every time I turn around, there you are?”

“Guess it’s just your lucky day,” Robert said. Aaron smiled at him, more with his eyes than anything else. Robert pushed his luck and kissed him, Aaron responding eagerly. Robert grinned, pushing him up against the wall and deepening the embrace. Aaron’s hands slid down his body squeezing his arse tightly and Robert moaned, pushing forward.

“Why do we always do this?” Robert moaned into his neck.

“It feels good,” Robert said. “That’s why.” Aaron couldn’t argue that. He pushed Robert away when he heard the car coming down the drive. Robert let him, not wanting to be caught.

“Interrupting am I?” Ruby said, looking between the two men. From her face she hadn't seen anything though. “Who’s this?”

“I’m Robert,�� he said. “Aaron’s ex.”

“Ah, you’re the desperate romantic who wanted Aaron to leave his husband and run off with you on his wedding day?” Ruby said. Robert huffed.

“On that note…” he said, walking away.

Ruby turned and pointed at Robert’s retreating back. “That’s your ex husband?”

“What?” Aaron said blankly.

“Have you seen him?” Ruby said. “He’s gorgeous! You went to bed with that every night?! God, he’s gay?! That’s such a disappointment!”

“Firstly, yeah,” Aaron said. “That is my ex husband. Second, no, he’s not gay, he’s bi, so if you want a shot... that reminds me of point three. You’re with Caleb.”

“Oh,” Ruby said, reminded about Caleb and disappointed. “Oh yeah. But how, how did you dump that?! He’s stunning!”

“Ruby, you can’t sleep with him,” Aaron said.

“I might like a toyboy,” Ruby said with a shrug. Then she looked at Aaron pointedly. “He clearly did.” Ruby looked at Aaron steadily. “Speaking of, why do you care who he sleeps with?”

“I don’t.”

“But you do, Aaron,” Ruby said. “It’s obvious to anyone who looks.”

John.

Finally, they’d managed to get some time alone, properly alone. Locked doors, a bedroom all to themselves in the Mill. Perfect. Robert lay on top of Aaron, skin sparking everywhere. Neither of them had a stitch of clothing on, and Aaron had actually smiled a time or two during the last few hours.

“About time I got you alone,” Robert said, laying on Aaron’s chest. He was listening to the rhythmic beating of Aaron’s heart, reassuring, steady. That’s what Aaron was to him, the steadying presence in his life.

“Why can’t I stay away from you?” Aaron asked himself. “I’m married.”

“Don’t remind me,” Robert said darkly. “Just forget about him for a moment. I want round two.”

“It wouldn’t be round two, it’d be round three,” Aaron reminded him. Robert smirked.

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” Robert said. “More like… God Robert, just like that.”

“Shut up,” Aaron said with amusement.

“Is that right?” Both men turned towards the door to see John standing there, larger than life, anger radiating out from him. “I wondered why you weren’t picking up your phone. Now I know.”

“John!” Aaron said as he walked out, both Robert and Aaron scrambling for clothes. Robert felt a tinge of bitterness, but said nothing. He’d known what this was from the moment they first kissed.

“How long?!” John shouted. “How long have I been so blind, that you’re sleeping with him?!”

“It’s not like that.”

“Think it was exactly like that,” Robert chipped in. He didn’t see the punch coming, but his eye felt it and Robert staggered backwards.

“For God’s sake, that’s not helping!” Aaron shouted, trying to keep the brothers apart. They both wanted to kill each other.

“You’re married Aaron!” John shouted.

“Didn’t he tell you he kissed me on his wedding day?!” Robert shouted back. “Ask Chas, she saw it! You’ve lost Johnny boy, from the second I turned up!” Robert ducked another punch.

[kabr0ztrousers]

I love your writing, it’s insanely hot and especially well spaced <3

I was reading one of your portal fics earlier, and I was wondering if you’d write something about how f!reader gets some anal training for her new job as a portal hole - bonus points if it’s by a hot, older female executive from the company that operates the portals.

Kabr0z Writes Episode 142: Creadle & Crabnuts Industries

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

Ao3!

CWs: portals; knotting; implied feral; public sex; oral sex; exhibition; dubcon; physical discomfort;

A/N: More portals! I managed my time a little better today, so I hope you folks enjoy it!

###########################################

You shouldn’t complain. You really shouldn’t. Getting a job at all in this economy was enough of a nightmare, and from the contents of the manilla envelope you’d been sent, this was a pretty well paid one. There was only really one problem with it.

Nobody’s told you what the hell you’re actually going to be doing. You'd been given an interview, if you could call it that, but all that happened there was a portal opened in your lucky undies and you got thoroughly fucked by... Well, you're not sure what it was, but it was something. What it certainly wasn't was any kind of interview you'd had before. This time, you made sure to wear different pants on the train. Sure, your lucky undies were actually proving lucky, but you could do without getting fucked in public again, at least off the clock. Who knows? That could be what the job is.

The office, such as it was, was a squat warehouse a couple of miles out of London. The door opened for you and you stepped in, a middle-aged woman in a grey suit waiting for you. She looked you up and down, motioning for you to turn around.

You did so, feeling her gaze on you. You wore heels and a knee-length skirt, along with some underwear you didn't mind losing or getting ruined. You had a feeling you weren't going to need them in a few minutes, the room already smelled of sex and you weren't twenty paces into the building.

She tapped a clipboard thoughtfully "Marvellous, we definitely chose the right subject. My notes indicate you received the Mk. 1 device, then after it had activated for the first time, you kept it. Even planned on wearing it to a job interview? Excellent. Come with me"

She never left you space to answer, and she sure wasn't listening now as she stepped down the hallway, still speaking "You'll be assigned to product testing, same sort of thing as you've already been doing with the Mk. 1, but with a little more scientific rigour, and a little less public transportation. Of course, what you get up to off the clock is your decision and we do encourage... Extracurricular activities. Today, we want to try something a little different." She stopped next to a door "In there is a device much like the one you're familiar with, plus a couple of tweaks. We want you to take them, put them on, then do... Whatever, really. Get yourself a coffee or something. We'll be monitoring you remotely."

You stepped into the room, an envelope sat on a table. You opened it, and withdrew a pair of pink, frilly knickers. They were light, soft, stretchy, precisely what you want out of underwear. Though how the woman had described them, you knew what they really were. You slipped off the knickers you'd come in wearing, putting them in your bag before pulling on the suspicious pair from the envelope. All the while, feeling the gaze of the woman who you presumed was your new boss. You turned to her as she took out a tablet and tapped it

"Good, telemetry is coming through. Enjoy your morning. You'll know when the test starts. Come back when it's done, and we can debrief"

She escorted you from the building, waving you off as you stepped back into the morning sun.

What the hell was that? You shrugged. You probably don't want to go out of walking distance to the... Let's say offices. You checked your phone. A café? Maybe. Should be relatively quiet round this time of morning, and in the worst case, they'll have a bathroom you can hide in. You nodded to yourself and set off.

You were right. The café was pretty empty, just a few bored-looking baristas wiping down various machines after the morning rush, sweeping up discarded pieces of sugar packet wrapper. You got your order, a medium Americano and sat down near the bathrooms.

She wasn't lying. You knew when the test started. A familiar warmth spread over the fabric under your skirt. It dissipated as always, but you could tell you were exposed, vulnerable.

Who- or what-ever it was on the other side of the portal clearly didn't believe in pacing themselves. A wide, flat tongue started lapping at you. It was manic. So fast it made you yelp, taking long licks of the outside of your nethers. You felt it skimming the outer lips, hitting your clit on every long stroke, just to do it again a moment later. You bit your lip, legs crossing on their own. That didn't impede the tongue, it might have even encouraged it. You could feel your breath coming in rags. The baristas were doing their best to ignore you, but in an otherwise empty café it was tough. You could feel their gaze as you screwed your eyes shut, the taste of your own blood filling your mouth as you but down harder. You tried not to cry out as you came. A whine still escaped.

The tongue pulled away. Your cunt was still twitching, your pulse throbbing in your engorged clit. A warmth spread across your ass. Just for a moment. Then it was gone. You could feel a draft across your asscheeks. You were being pressed through the portal by your own weight, just a little. Just enough that you could feel the rim of the portal on your ass cheeks as your exposed behind was being transmitted to who knows where.

You sat in anticipation, still tender and sensitive from the oral servicing you'd just received. You didn't have to wait long. Movement came on both of your holes. Something slimy on your asshole, something using your natural lubricant at your cunt. They thrust rapidly, randomly, hoping to find a hole to take them as they spread hot, spurting fluids over you. You abandoned hope of being able to finish the coffee in front of you, every thrust shaking your hands a little, every near-miss making you gasp.

Your ass was first. The cock hammered its way in, jerking and thrusting, no slower now than it was before only now it was inside you. You tried to mask the yelp as it penetrated with a cough, but the looks on the staff's faces didn't look convinced. It was relentless, the thrusts seemingly gaining in power and ferocity as they went on. You bit down hard on your lip, digging your nails into your palms.

You couldn't help yourself when the other cock found its mark. A basal, creaking groan escaped you as your drooling, deprived cunt swallowed the cock whole, welcoming it in. The whole length of it pumped in and out, rubbing against the one in your ass. You couldn't stop yourself shaking. You staggered to your feet, trying to stumble out of the café before you were thrown out. Your legs wobbled, unsteady with the twin cocks using you as they pleased. Setting one in front of the other was tough, hauling yourself along towards the door required a herculean effort to not trip over yourself.

The bell rang above the door as you opened it, guiding yourself around the side of the building before leaning against the wall.

Just in time. You felt a bulbous knot press into your asshole. You cried out in pain as it stretched you open, forcing its way in before you tightened behind it. The cock in your cunt did similar, driving in a thick, rock-hard growth, locking itself inside before it started to spill its seed.

You felt them filling you. Thick, hot cum painting your insides, sticking to you, washing into you. You could almost smell it, musky and tangy, pulsing into you from both directions at once. You slid down the wall, head back, eyes staring at the blue sky above, hands laying limp by your sides.

You don't know how long it was before they pulled out, but the blue sky had turned to grey and the first drops of rain were landing on you. The knots plopped out, the portals disengaging, and cum oozing from your gaping, winking holes.

You couldn't move. Sure you were expected back soon, but you figured a few more minutes wouldn't hurt.

[moody-alcoholic]

These Violent Delights

Chapter 34 - Don’t Mess With Me

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 10.8k words. Everone is together and everyone deserves to be happy. 141 are doing their best to make things better.

CW: +18 content MDNI. a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (knotting, scuffing), sex, PiV sex, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, overstimulation, semi-public sex (kinda), canon-typical violence, death, blood, use of weapons, fighting, military inaccuracies, kidnapping, assault, description of weapons, language, description of injuries, nightmare, night terror, hurt/comfort, angst, written by a european who has never shot a gun before.

AN: This chapter is all I’ve been able to think about for days.

Previous - masterlist - next AO3

Enjoy <3

“Now remember, we’re going after Professor Hale’s daughter. Our orders are to take her alive and unharmed.” Graves says as he looks around the people he hand picked for this job. There are seven of them in total, it should be more than enough. 

“We should expect heavy resistance. 141, assuming you’ve already the brief you know we’re going up against not only trained special forces but her pack. They will be willing to protect her with their life. Now we’re going to draw them out with a distraction, they’re going to raid the surveillance post.” Graves moves the sides long on the projector. 

“As soon as we get the signal we’ll move into their safehouse. We won’t have long, as soon as we make entry 141 will be told we have at least 40 minutes to secure the omega and leave.” Graves watches as his team takes in the information. 

“We can’t harm 141, they will be someone with her at all times, we have to assume we will meet resistance but harming them could cause her to distress, which could render the whole operation pointless.” He holds a peg up. 

“Scuffing, this is how we’re going to subdue them. Squeeze the sensitive skin on the back of the neck and it will cause them to pass out. Put the peg on to keep them that way. Remember this is a capture mission, we’re not killing anyone.” Graves puts the peg down, he looks over at the back of the room. He sees Hale standing at the door, he swallows the lump in his throat moving the slide show on. 

“Is there anything you would like to add Professor?” Graves asks, he watches as Hale thinks for a second before stepping into the room, everyone turns to watch him walk up to the front of the conference room. 

“It’s been almost six months since my daughter was kidnapped. She’s everything to me, 141 will get what they deserve but first we need to make sure the omega is safe. She needs to be back where she belongs.” Hale walks over to Graves and rests his hand on Graves' shoulder. 

“I have every faith you will be able to bring her back to me.” 

When you wake in the morning you’re alone with John. You can hear his steady breathing, you’re pretty sure he’s still asleep. You reach over to touch him, the moment you do he wakes, turning around in the bed to face you. 

“Morning.” You say smiling at him. It’s been almost a month since you’ve been in bed with him. He reaches out and pulls you against him, kissing the top of your head as you breathe him in. 

“How did you sleep?” He asks. 

“Good, no nightmares.” You smile, it’s the first time in a long time you’ve slept through the night without any dreams let alone nightmares. 

“That's good.” He breathes, he relaxes into the bed and you both just lay there in each other's arms. 

“What's going to happen today?” You ask before you start to doze off again. 

“We’re going to make a plan to raid the base we’ve been watching. Hopefully we will be able to find out where Hale is.” 

“Is it going to be dangerous?” You ask, trying not to let your nerves taint your scent. 

“No, it’s just a listening post. Like Simon said yesterday it’s a skeleton crew, low risk.” He says shuffling back so he can see your face. “It’s going to be okay.” 

You nod and reach up to kiss him. You keep kissing him even when it turns into a sloppy breathless mess and you’re grinding against his thigh. He moans in your mouth one of his hands slips up your top and before you know it his thumb is brushing your nipple. 

“Fuck, love.” He breathes, breaking from the kiss, you can smell the vanilla in the room. You can feel his cock pressing between your thighs. “I’ve got work to do.” 

“Later.” You say nuzzling your face into his neck. You just want to spend as much time with him as you can, it doesn’t even need to be sex, but you’re not going to ignore the throb traveling through your body. 

He sighs but you feel his hand travel down from your chest to the front of your pants. You must have put them on at some point in the night after his knot had deflated. You’re still surprised that it happened but it turned out to be a good thing in the end- you got a really good night's rest. 

“Please, alpha.” You ask, pressing a kiss into his neck. He tips his head back a little, his fingers teasing the front of your pyjama shorts. He hums and you pull your face out his neck to look at him, he smiles, his eyes are glossed over.

You can tell from his scent he wants this too, you spread your legs for him and he moves in the bed propping himself on one arm, his other hand slips under your shorts straight to your clit. You close your eyes moaning out for him and turn so you’re laid flat. His fingers travel further down to your entrance.

“Fuck, love. Still so wet even after last night.” He says, his voice is low as his fingers tease your entrance and you open your eyes again. You miss having hands on your breasts and before you can stop yourself your hands are playing with them over your top.

“C’mon love, show me how you like it.” He says, you blush but pull your top up anyway so he can see. 

“Fuck..” He breathes and leans down to lick the closest one, his tongue drags over your nipple already aching for attention. When he pulls off it he pushes two fingers into you. You moan out arching your back. 

“John.” You say as you move one of your hands down to pinch the nipple he just played with. Each pull sends vibrations down to your pussy. John curls his fingers inside you, hitting that rough spot inside you that makes you melt on his hand. 

The smell of vanilla is making your head spin you’re losing focus on playing with your nipples, especially when John’s palm starts rubbing against your clit with each thrust of his fingers. 

“John. Alpha. Please-” You choke on the words. 

“Please what?” He asks, his fingers are relentless now. You don’t want to come like this though, you need him inside you again. You need to feel him throbbing inside you. You clench around his fingers which just makes him move them faster. 

“Let me ride you again, like last night. I just need you.” You say. He smiles at you and leans down to kiss you. He pulls his fingers out of you, even though you asked for this you still whine. When you break from the kiss he lays on his back, you pull the duvet off him and pull your bottoms and underwear off. He does the same, your mouth waters when you see his cock spring free. 

You immediately reach out to touch it, it’s warm and familiar in your hand, you pull the foreskin back and watch as a sliver of precome falls down the underside. You can’t help yourself, before you get on top of him you want to taste him again. You wrap your mouth around his cock and take him as far as you can. 

“Christ, love.” You hear John say, he twitches in your mouth and it makes you hum around him as more saliva forms in your mouth. You keep going, taking him deeper each time, his breathing picks up, he moans his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. Suddenly, he grips your hair and his cock throbs in your mouth. A groan leaves deep from his throat. 

You pull your mouth off him, you don’t want him to come in your mouth, you want him to come inside you. You look up at him whipping the saliva off your chin. 

“What's all this for?” He asks, smiling. You swing your legs over his thighs again letting his cock rest against your stomach. 

“I’ve just missed you.” You say, running your hand down his cock. He smiles at you as you lift yourself up and down on top of him. As soon as you feel him ease inside you, you let out a long breath, his hands come up to your thighs and you plant your hands on his chest. 

You look down at him, he smiles at you, you see his dog-tags hanging out his shirt. You can see the sliver ‘a’ on his chest, you reach over to run your fingers over it. It makes you smile, suddenly yours feels hot around your neck. You're their omega, and he's your alpha, you're a pack and you're safe.

“You okay?” John asks. Your eyes flick up to him, you nod smiling and bend down to kiss him. You start to rock your hips on him while you chase his tongue, his hands move around to grip your waist. You lift yourself up as you break from the kiss and sit back down, John’s hands help you move his strong grip helps you keep a steady rhythm. 

It was definitely easier when you had Kyle behind you yesterday, but you don’t care you’re feeling too blissed out, you’re with your whole pack again, it's how it should always be. John gets louder, his cock twitches in you as you use his chest to help you push your hips up and down on him increasing the speed. 

“John.” You call out when you’re close, you’re trying not to dig your nails into his chest. He starts to buck his hips too, his head tips back and you clench around him. 

“C’mon, love. Come with me.” He says, you moan out as he drives his cock into you faster. You lean forward as you come scrunching his shirt in your hands and moaning his name. You feel him come too, he stills his hips but his cock pulses inside you, you lay down on his chest panting. His arms wrap around you, you can feel his heart pounding in his chest. 

You lay there on top of him letting him stroke your back until his cock slips out of you. When that happens you roll off him to lay by his side. He turns to smile down at you. 

“I love you.” He says. 

“I love you too.” You say, he leans over to kiss you. You wrap your arms around him, when he breaks from the kiss you press your foreheads together. 

“I needed this. I need all of you, now and forever.” You say, you feel yourself getting emotional, you're not sure why. 

“You have us, we’re right here.” He says, his hand runs up your side to your face, he strokes your cheek and you look up into his eyes. He has blue eyes like Johnny but they’re not the same, they’re not as light and there’s a hint of another colour in them. Maybe green, maybe brown. They remind you of the ocean, deep and blue you almost want to dive into them. Johnny’s eyes are like the sky, when the light hits them right they’re almost translucent. 

“What happens when this is over? What happens when the professor is dead?” You ask, he sighs, pressing his lips together. 

“I don’t know. You’ll be safe, we all will be. We’ll go back to the UK and figure it out from there.” He says. 

“Back to Scotland?” 

“If you want.” He smiles. You nod and throw your arms around him. He holds you tight, pressing a kiss into your neck. You listen to his breathing, his heart beat, you just wish it would all be over.  

“We really should get going, I have a lot to do today.” He says after a few minutes. You sigh and sit up reluctantly shuffling out of the bed. You look around for the clothes you had on yesterday and see there’s a fresh pile on a chair. It makes you smile as you pick them up. 

“The bathroom is the door at the end of the hall. I’ll let you use it first.” He says, you turn to see him also looking around for his clothes. You nod pulling your bottoms back on. When you leave the confines of the room it’s cold, you can feel a breeze as you walk down to the bathroom. 

When you try to open what you thought was the bathroom it’s locked. 

“Just a second.” Johnny calls from the other side, you smile and step to the side waiting. When he opens the door he’s wearing nothing but boxers and a towel thrown around his neck. 

“Hey, love.” His nostrils flare and he looks down the hall behind you. “You smell good.” He teases winking at you, you feel your face heat up and you flare your own nostrils breathing him in. You can smell leather and vanilia on him too. You can see the marks Simon has left on his neck and shoulders. 

“Seems like we both had fun.” You say. He smiles walking over to you and resting his hand on your waist, he pulls you close to him and leans down to kiss you. You can taste mint in his mouth, you wonder if he can taste John on you. He hums before breaking from the kiss, his eyes twinkle before he slips past you out the bathroom. 

You look back at him and he winks at you before disappearing into one of the rooms. You scoff, shaking your head and go into the bathroom.

When you make it down to the kitchen everyone is already sitting or standing around the dining room table. They seem like they’re talking about something important so you go to make a cup of tea. You feel happy, you catch yourself smiling even though you’re just doing the most mundane thing. 

When you’re done you look back to see them still talking. You decide to take the tea to the living room, leaving them to finish whatever they’re doing. There's a newspaper on the sofa arm, you’ve never read a newspaper before. You put the tea down and pick it up. 

The first thing you see is an article about a war, somewhere you’ve never heard of. Right next to that there’s something dramatic about a celebrity. You frown, it’s almost like the 2 polar opposites of news right next to each other. You can’t help being drawn in to page after page soaking up all the information about the country you were born in.  

Who the president is and what he’s doing. How the economy is - most of it if you don’t understand. There’s news about football and baseball, an entire page of scores that seem overly complicated. You soak up the colour images of people in fancy outfits, some kind of awards ceremony. There’s even a page dedicated to people who have died. That makes you sad. 

“Hey, love.” Johnny calls from the doorway, you look up from the paper over at him. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here. You look over at your mug of tea, there’s no steam coming off it now and your legs are stiff. 

“I thought we could do something.” He says, you put the paper down on the coffee table. 

“Okay, what?” You ask standing up, he holds his hand for you.

“You’ll see.” He says as you take it.

He leads you outside into the back garden. It’s nice weather, not too warm but not too cold. The garden is surrounded by a high wooden fence and there are some trees at the bottom. You follow him down to the end of the garden and see a bag of stuff. He turns to look at you, his hands land on your shoulders and he squeezes them looking over you. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, he takes a step back and holds his arms up. 

“Hit me.” he says, patting his stomach. 

“I don’t want to hit you.” You say.

“Okay but just do it. I’m a big man, I can take it.” He says winking. You really don’t want to but you sigh feeling like he’s not going to let this go. You punch him in the stomach. It barely feels like anything Johnny doesn’t even move. He sighs, pulling his arms down. 

“Okay, what about something different.” He says. You feel Kyle come behind you, his hand lands on the top of your back. 

“You don’t have to be worried about hurting us.” He says. 

“Why do I need to know how to do this anyway?” You ask looking down at your hands. The scars on your palms are almost gone now, you can’t even tell if what's left are even scars or just lines on your palms. When you look back up Johnny has pads on his hands.

“Now you can punch me as hard as you want.” He says. You look up at Kyle who steps back from you. You sigh but bring your hands up anyway and punch at one of the pads. His arm hardly moves, at this point you think you’re doing more damage to yourself then anyone else. Kyle chuckles behind you, his foot comes between yours kicking them apart a little. 

“Spread your feet.” He then twists your hip and it forces you to put one of your feet forward. “You want to be at an angle slightly.” 

“Yeah, your body should swing when you punch.” Johnny says, swinging his arms to show you. You frown at him, you ball your hands up into fists. Kyle’s hand lands on your right fist and he presses your thumb under your fingers. 

“Aim for the center of the pad.” Kyle says letting your hand go and steps back. It feels unnatural but you try to follow their instructions and swing your arm and fist into the pad as hard as you can. You immediately look up at Johnny who smiles at you. 

“Better.” He says, nodding. “Harder this time, as much force as you can.” You nod as Kyle's arms come back to your hips and he positions you again, moving your feet with his toes again. You punch again harder, Johnny nods and you do it again with your non-dominant hand. You can definitely feel the difference in power, using your left hand feels weird. 

“Why do I need to know how to punch someone?” You ask after a few more tries. 

“Peace of mind, it will make us feel better if you know how to throw a decent punch or shoot a gun.” Kyle says.

“Shoot a gun?” You gasp, turning to look at him. He nods, you swallow hard, you’re not sure why that makes a pit form in your stomach. You look back up at Johnny, he sighs lowering the pads. 

“It’s just some basic self-defence, everyone should know.” Johnny says, that sounds more reassuring and you nod. Johnny takes the pads off and Kyle’s hand rubs the top of your back. You turn looking over and see Simon and John now standing outside watching. 

“C’mon, let's show you a few other things then we’ll have lunch.” Johnny says when he turns back around. You nod and force a smile, maybe they’re right, it would be good for you to learn some self-defence. You’re not really sure when you would need to use it but Johnny and Kyle assure you it's better than not knowing anything.

They show you how to get out of someone's grip, and where to hit someone to really hurt them. How to knock a knife or a gun out of someone's hand. It’s a lot of information to take in and when John calls you all in for lunch. You’re hungry, apparently they actually got food in and cooked for once instead of eating food out of bags. 

You sit with Johnny and Kyle in the living room, Simon and John are still working on the plan to raid the base. Johnny and Kyle tell you a little more about it, it shouldn’t be too difficult apparently. The plan is for them to go tomorrow evening, as soon as the sun is down. It gives Kyle and Johnny another day to acclimate and sleep off the rest of the jet lag. 

Kate is going to be coming later, she’s been helping as much as she can but has to fly from Virginia every few days. From what it sounds like it must be exhausting. There are a few other people they mention Alejandro and Rudy, you’ve heard about them before. Apparently they’re in New Mexico helping with something to do with drugs. 

“Finished?” You hear Simon ask as he places a hand on your shoulder. You look up at him and nod. 

“C’mon, got something we need to do.” He says squeezing your shoulder then walking away. You nod following him to the front door. He hands you your coat.

“Are you going to teach me how to fight too?” You ask, half joking. 

“Something like that.” He mumbles, picking up a set of keys and walking out the door. You follow him over to the car and get in. The weather seems to have changed, there’s thick gray clouds rolling in from afar. You have no idea where you’re going but you drive out of the little suburban burrow you’ve been staying in and follow a big road for a few kilometres. 

Suddenly Simon pulls off the road to a massive run down building with a chain link fence running the whole way around it. He gets out of the car going over to a padlock between two fences. He uses pliers to break the lock then throws them open. 

He comes back to the car and drives in, you get a better look at the building now, it’s seen better days all painted white, you can see the faint outline of where there used to be signs and massive letters but you can’t quite make out what they say. 

You’re still squinting at it when Simon comes back to the car after closing the fence. 

“We’re not supposed to be here are we?” You ask as he drives the car around the back of the building to the loading dock. 

“No, but it means we won’t be disturbed.” He says, stopping the car. You smile and get out, there's a chill in the air now and you can hear the rumble of thunder in the distance. 

“It’s going to rain.” You say as he takes a bag out the back of the car. 

“Good, gives us more cover.” He says, you frown at him as you walk over to a smashed door. You follow him in, the place is massive. You’re hit with the overwhelming scent of damp, some of the roof has collapsed letting light spill in. You follow Simon as he walks you over to an old countertop. This used to be a department store by the looks of things. There’s a worn and warped sign above the ring of counters that says ‘jewellery.’  

The roof is broken just above you and you watch as Simon unzips the bag revealing pistols and targets printed on paper. You feel nerves rise in you as you watch him take the pieces of paper out. There are more pistols under them, bigger pistols and more magazines. 

“You’re going to teach me how to shoot.” You say blowing out the nerves. He nods then looks around. You stay by the bag in the light as you watch him drag a temporary wall into place. He sticks three targets up then walks back over to you. You swallow the lump in your throat, the targets are about 10 meters in front of you. Simon walks around to the other side of the counter top and gestures for you to join him.

“Don’t be afraid.” He says reaching over to take one of the pistols out the bag.

“I’m not.” You lie, honestly the thought of holding something as deadly as a pistol in your hands scares you. Last time you held one you almost hurt your pack, you shot at them while you were dreaming. You stand up against the counter looking out towards the targets. Simon comes behind you, putting the pistol and a mag down in front of you. 

“Pick it up, it’s not going to bite you.” He says, you nod and pick it up. It’s heavier than you thought, sleek and black with a rubber grip. 

“And the clip.” He says, you nod and pick it up with your other hand. It’s almost as heavy as the pistol which surprises you. His arms come around you, his hand gripping yours. 

“This is how you load it.” He says as he moves the clip over to the bottom of the pistol, you let his hands guide you but you do all the actual work. You feel it click in place, suddenly it feels like you’re holding a live grenade in your hands. 

You hear him search through the bag, you turn seeing him pull out a pair of ear defenders, he slips them on you and kisses you on the top of the head, his chest is pressed against your back again. His hands come back around to pick up yours, he moves your free hand to grip the bottom of the gun. 

“Just get used to feeling it in your hand.” He says moving his away, you nod and try different positions with your hands and fingers. It still feels wrong, maybe this is a good thing, you shouldn’t be afraid of this. 

“Hold it up and look towards the targets, do you see them?” he asks, you swallow and nod. 

“Words, love.” He says his hands landing on your hips.  

“I see them.” You say. 

“Good, you see that little switch on the side?” 

“Yes.” You reply, already moving your thumb up to it. 

“That's the safety, when you’re ready click it.” You nod and let out a long breath before flicking it with your thumb. Now the pistol feels suddenly heavier in your hands. 

“Good. Now you need to load it. Use your bottom hand to pull the barrel back.” He says. You move your hand around following his instructions and grip the top of the gun pulling it back until you feel and hear it click. 

His hands run up your side and down your arms straightening them. He bends down, his breath is hot on your neck. You can do this. You tell yourself, it’s just shooting a gun, nothing bad is going to happen. 

“Take a deep breath, look at the target.” He says, you nod. You take a breath and move your finger to the trigger. “Nice and easy, take your time.” 

You nod and let out a breath as you pull the trigger. The noise makes you jump even with the ear defenders on. Simon keeps you stood in place, the weapon makes your arms shake there’s more power in it then you thought. You can’t tell if you hit the target or not, you’re assuming you didn’t. You lower your arms but Simon stops you gripping your elbows. 

“Safety first.” He says and you nod, flicking the little switch again. You put the pistol down on the table as he lets your arms go. 

“See, not so scary after all.” 

“I guess.” You say smiling, it did feel good, strangely powerful. You already want to do it again, reaching down to pick it up. This time you make sure your dominant hand is on the trigger. You bring your arms up and look over at one of the targets. 

“Which one are you looking at?” Simon asks. 

“The middle one.” 

“Good, keep your arms straight. Take a breath and when you breathe out fire.” He says, you nod flicking the safety off and follow his instructions letting out a long breath as you fire. This time you think you’ve actually hit the wall, you hear the bullet ping at least. 

“Nice.” Simon says. “This time just aim a little higher.” 

“Okay.” You say smiling at the praise and raising your arms a little. He presses himself closer to you, you can feel his chest expand when he breathes. His hands are on midsection. You can smell his alpha filling the air. You fire again this time you definitely hit the target, the paper rips. 

“Good, try the next one.” He says, you feel his hands squeeze you. You blush watching as his hands travel down to your waist. “Hey, pay attention.” 

“Sorry.” You say, looking back over at the targets and straightening your arms again. You feel warmth travel through you, he’s warm too, you match your breathing with his. You can smell his alpha and the hint of vanilla slipping through. You try to ignore it focusing on hitting the next target, it becomes next to impossible when you feel him grind against your arse. 

You keep firing until the weapon is empty. It feels good, it’s like there's this new energy pulsing through you. You shot a weapon, pretty well too at least you managed to hit 2 of the 3 targets. As soon as you’ve put the safety back on the weapon Simon’s hands grip your waist picking you up. 

You gasp as he turns you and plops you down on the counter. He steps up between your legs pulling the bottom of his mask up over his nose and pressing his lips to yours. He kisses you rough, his hands running up your thighs then under your shirt. You drop the pistol hearing it crash on the floor. Simon doesn’t stop though, his hands running up to your breasts, you can smell vanilia fill the air and you spread your legs even further for him moaning in his mouth.

“Fuck, love.” He says breaking from the kiss and running his hands back down to your hips. “I want you now.” His voice is feral, his tongue working its way down your neck. You grip the top off his mask. You want him too.

“You can have me. Anytime you want.” You breathe, he growls sucking on your neck, you feel his teeth tease your sensitive skin. He pulls his face out your neck looking up at you, you project your scent for him watching his eyes dilate. He picks you up in his arms, you wrap your arms and legs around him as he takes you to the exit. 

“Not in here, fuckin’ filthy.” He says, when you make it out and back towards the car you can feel the first few drops of rain hit you. There is still the distant rumble of thunder, it makes the air feel electric as he opens the car door and lays you down on the back seats. You prop yourself up to see him gripping the waistband of your jeans. You put your legs together and he pulls them down to your ankles.

You shiver as the cool air hits your legs, he’s on his knees pulling your pussy down to his mouth. You lay back as he presses kisses up your thighs throwing your legs over his shoulders. You spread your legs as much as you can for him shuffling down to chase his mouth. 

“Fuck.” You hear him breathe, his hot breath hits your already soaked clit. A second later he presses his tongue against it. You moan out throwing your head back, he starts with long drags like he’s almost trying to drink you up. He presses his tongue in your entrance then runs it back to flick your clit before locking his mouth around it and sucking.

“Simon.” You call reaching out to grip the front passenger chair, you’re going to come if he keeps this up. You moan out for him, it just makes his mouth attack your clit harder, his teeth nibble against it too. It’s all too much, the adrenaline from firing the gun and Simon’s scent has got you all worked up. You squeeze your legs crying out as you come, he doesn’t stop though, working you through the orgasam. 

“Alpha!” You call as your legs start to twitch from overstimulation, Simon chuckles looking up from between your legs, he still has his mask on, pulled up over his nose. You smile at him and he crawls out from between your legs. He leans over to kiss you, he tastes sweet, his lips puffy as he presses his tongue in your mouth. 

It just makes your pussy throb harder for him. You run your hands up his chest. He breaks from the kiss looking down at you. 

“I need you.” You say reaching up to chase his lips again. He smiles, quickly kissing you before moving back down to your legs, it’s awkward with your jeans wrapped around your ankles. 

“Turn over,” he says. You obey flipping onto your stomach, your arse sticks out of the car door, you can feel the rain hitting it. You hear Simon undo his belt buckle and drop his pants, one of his hands presses on the small of your back then slowly works its way around your arse and to your pussy. 

He presses two fingers into you and you cry out, at least this is a pretty secluded spot. His fingers drag in and out, your hands grip the seat as you feel his fingers get replaced with the head of his cock. You moan with him as he presses into you. You squeeze your eyes closed clenching around him. 

You always forget how big he is, he stretches you out pressing into you slowly. 

“Christ, love. I forgot how amazing you feel.” He says both his hands are gripping your waist. It’s not long before he’s pulling you even further down his cock. You relax for him, another groan leaves his throat and he starts to buck his hips into you. 

He feels good, you keep moaning for him arching your back, he pulls your waist against him in time with his thrusts. He’s pressing into you so deep, his cock feels like it’s bouncing against your cervix. 

“Missed you so much.” He says as he speeds up, you can hear the rain pounding on the roof of the car, he must be getting soaked. 

“I. Missed. You. Too.” You say between thrusts, it feels like he’s knocking all the air out your lungs each time he pulls you down on his cock. His moans turn to grunts, you can barely think straight, you clench around him to stop yourself from coming which only makes him slam his cock into you harder. It causes your breath to hitch in your throat. 

“Simon.” You call, you’re not going to last like this, you dig your nails into the car seat. One of his hands runs up your back. 

“Fuck, you can hold it.” He says, although it sounds like an order. 

“Yes, yes, alpha.” An order you’re going to follow it seems, you cry out relaxing as much as you dare which makes Simon’s grunts turn back to moans. It’s like music to your ears, he drives his cock into you harder picking your hips up slightly. 

“Si-” His name catches in your throat, you can’t hold on he’s hitting a new spot inside you that's making your legs shake. “Please.” You beg. 

“Come- come with me.” He says. You nod biting down on the inside of your cheek so you’re not biting the seat. Your whole body goes limp as you come, the only thing holding you to reality is your pussy throbbing around Simon's cock. You almost miss him coming too, but you hear him grunt, his fingers dig into the soft skin on your hips. 

He slows his thrusts eventually stilling inside you. Your whole body is pulsing, your head spinning from the scent of leather. 

“I love you, I love you.” You mumble into the seat. You feel him pull out of you leaving you feeling empty. You’re still panting, enjoying the come down. You relax and Simon runs his hands down your legs. 

“C’mon, love. You’re going to get soaked.” Simon says as the rain starts to come down harder.

“I don’t care.” You hum as you feel his spend slip down your thigh. He chuckles and lets out a long breath, you hear him opening a pack of tissues. You feel him clean you up and pull your underwear back up. You shuffle out the car, Simon helps you to your feet and you reach down pulling your jeans up. 

You reach up to kiss him, he holds your head in his hands rubbing your cheeks as he presses his tongue into your mouth. 

“You know I read in books this is romantic.” You say as you break from the kiss. 

“Not if you catch pneumonia it isn’t.” He smiles back reaching over to open the passenger side door. 

…

The rain is really coming down by the time you get back to the house. You both run inside almost tripping over each other. Simon has his arm around you as you walk into the dining room. Kate is here now, she smiles when she sees you and Simon drops his arm. 

“Hey.” You smile back at her. Johnny comes over to you wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“You’re soaked.” He says kissing your cheek, you hear him breathe in. You turn to look at him. “Smells good too.” He winks. Simon scoffs coming over to rest his hand on your shoulder. 

“I have something for you.” He says, you frown and he walks over to the stairs. You follow him hearing Johnny come too. 

“What is it?” He asks over your shoulder. Simon goes into a room and you stand in the doorway as he looks through a bag. Johnny’s hand rests on your shoulder and you both watch as he searches for something. After a few seconds he comes back with something in his hand. 

“Here, maybe guns aren't really your thing.” He says handing you a terrifying knife. You take it out his hand though. 

“Was I that bad?” You ask looking up at him. He chuckles, his fingers come to brush your cheek. 

“No, not like that but just so you have something. Makes us feel better.” He says. You look back down at the knife, it’s small, only slightly bigger than your hand. You don’t want to think about why you would need to use a knife. It’s not like you’re ever going to be alone. 

“Thank you.” You say, you’re not sure what you’re supposed to say but you take the knife anyway. 

“Should put it somewhere safe.” Johnny says moving away from you. You nod and move to the room you shared with John and Kyle. You’re not sure what the sleeping arrangements are like, you guess one of the good things about you all being together means you don’t have to worry about that too much. People just sleep where they want, when they want and with who they want. It makes you smile.

You place the knife in the bedside drawer, at least you’ll remember where it is and it’s somewhere you can find easy. The rest of the evening you spend with Johnny and Kyle, then introduce you to American Football while Simon and John are busy with Kate.

Kyle cooks with the limited ingredients he has breaking open multiple packets of the MRE’s you remember them talking about. After food you’re full and end up dozing off in Johnny’s arms. You’re watching some kind of sports game on the TV, it’s nothing like the football game you watched in the UK. 

“Who’s winning?” You ask eventually, Johnny pulls a blanket over you. 

“Nebraska.” Johnny says. 

“Where’s that?” You ask, closing your eyes. 

“South.” He says. You yawn. 

“Maybe we could go there one day.” You ask shuffling next to him, getting comfortable and relaxing against him. You wrap your arm around his stomach and he kisses the top of your head. 

“Yeah, We’ll go there one day. We’ll go wherever you want.”

You’re woken from a deep sleep, someone comes into your room and drags you to your feet. You don’t get a chance to ask what's going on, you just focus on keeping upright so you’re not being dragged across the floor. It's not long before you’re thrown into a room, your body slams painfully on the ground.

Hands grab you pulling your body up but keeping you on your knees. You finally get a chance to take in your surroundings, you see John and Simon on their knees with guns held to their heads. The professor reaches down and grabs your chin painfully, snapping your head up to look at him. 

“These are your alphas?” He snaps spitting in your face. You know he already knows the answer so you ignore him. He slaps you hard across your face, your head snaps to the side and you whimper. Your cheek is still stinging as you’re hauled  back to your knees. You can’t keep your eyes off John and Simon, they don’t look hurt but they’re here, in the bunker. 

“I told you what would happen if any other alpha claimed you.” Hale says pulling your attention back over to him, you hear the click of a weapon then the professor turns with a loaded pistol in his hand. 

“Please, no please don’t make me!” You cry and scream. You try to fight the person holding you but they don’t let you go, they grip you harder, so hard you swear you can feel their nails drawing blood. He just walks over to you, slapping your face again. 

“You brought this on yourself!” He snaps. “I am your alpha, no one else!” You sob feeling blood pool in your mouth, you must have bit the inside of your cheek. 

“I’ll give you a choice though. Of which one you want to kill first.” He says, you hear the weapon click in his hand. “Make sure she looks.” 

Your head is forced up right, your chin held painfully in position looking at John and Simon. The professor bends down so he is eye level with you. 

“You better not close those pretty little eyes of yours.” He says before pressing a kiss on your forehead. You can’t move from it but when he moves back you spit at him. He hates that, immediately getting to his feet and wiping his face.  

Your mouth is squeezed close. Hale curses, you hear the weapon click again and he punches you in the stomach. Whoever is holding you doesn’t let you double over in pain and he keeps your mouth closed as you scream. 

“Now you don’t get to choose.” Hale says. You watch in horror as he walks over to John and puts the pistol to his head. You scream as the weapon goes off. 

...

You wake with a scream. Hands are already on you as you instantly. Everything is so bright you can’t tell what's going on. Your eyes fill with water as you try to feel around the person who’s holding you. 

“John!” You scream as someone pulls you into their chest. There are voices all around you now as you bury your head into whoever is next to you. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” It’s Johnny you think. His hand comes up to rub your back. “I’ve got you.” Definitely Johnny, all you can do is sob in response. Someone sits on the coffee table in front of you. You look at them through your tear filled eyes, trying to figure out who it is. As soon as you see John you pull yourself out Johnny’s arms and throw yourself against him. 

You taste blood in your mouth, your cheek throbs, it makes your stomach turn.

“Okay, you’re okay. I’m here.” He says rubbing your back, you can smell beta in the air trying to relax you but it’s not working. John’s hands land on your shoulders pushing you away from his chest. 

“The professor-” 

“He’s not here.” John says cutting you off and squeezing your shoulders. You nod, hanging your head, while Johnny rubs your back. 

“Look at me.” He says, you snap up and look at him, he’s real, he’s alive. It was just a horrible dream. You feel silly now, the adreanile has worn off now. You look around the room, everyone is standing watching you. You sniffle and his expression softens and he pulls you back into his arms. You press your face against his chest. 

“I’ve got you, I’m safe, we’re all safe.” He says and kisses the top of your head. You nod sniffling in his chest. When you finally start to calm down he tries to transfer you back into Johnny's arms. 

“Take her to bed.” He says going to stand up.

“Come with me.” You ask reaching out for him

“Let me finish up.” John says coming to stroke hair behind your ear. You nod and watch as he leaves with everyone but Johnny following behind him. Johnny helps you up and guides you up the stairs. He keeps his arms on you, his hands rubbing your arms and back. 

“It’s going to be okay, love. This will all be over soon.” He says as you go into the bedroom and over to the bed.

“Then we’ll go back home.” You say as you lay down in the bed. 

“Then we’ll go back home.” He repeats, falling in behind you and wrapping his arms around you.

You sleep all morning, you’re never alone, Simon comes and wakes you around lunch. You force yourself out the bed. Everyone seems distracted, this is the day, as soon as the sun goes down they'll be leaving. The day feels like it's dragging on forever, but before you know it they're all dressed in full gear and John comes over to you.  

“Johnny’s going to stay behind with you and Kate.” John says. You nod looking behind him to see Simon and Kyle still getting ready at the table. “We’ll be back before you know it.” 

“You’re not going to get hurt are you?” You ask, reaching out to grip his arm. 

“No, this is a routine job, we’ll be back before midnight if we’re lucky.” John says, you nod and throw your arms around him. With his vest you can’t quite reach all the way around his back but he hugs you back and squeezes you tight. 

“I love you.” You whisper as he breaks from the hug. 

“I love you too.” He says stroking your cheek with his gloved hand. He turns to go over to Simon and Kyle who are waiting at the door. Johnny comes over and rests his hand on your back, you lean into him and watch them as they all leave with Kate through the door. 

“Is Kate going with them?” You ask. 

“No, probably just making sure they have everything they need.” Johnny says, squeezing you tight to him. “You okay?”

You turn to look up at him. “Yeah, just worried.” You admit. He leans down to kiss you. 

“Don’t worry, they know what they’re doing.” Johnny reassures you, you nod but you just can’t shake the pit in your stomach. 

“I’m tired, I'm going to lie down.” You say. If you take a nap maybe it will go quicker and when you wake they’ll be back. 

“Okay, love.” Johnny says kissing the top of your head. 

“Wake me when they’re on their way back?” You ask. He chuckles.

“Of course.”

You wake to your door opening. You smell beta, but not what you’re used to, it’s not Johnny. You’re facing away from the door, you slowly move your arm over to the bedside table, opening the drawer while listening to the footsteps. They didn’t close the door behind them, if it was Johnny he would have been in bed with you by now. 

You feel around for the knife your heart is racing in your chest, you focus on containing your scent. You want him to think you’re still asleep. You take out the knife and pull it to your chest slowly closing the drawer before shuffling both your arms back under the duvet. 

You’re lucky the room is dark, you hear the stranger walk around the end of the bed. You close your eyes, as soon as you can sense they’re near you’ll stab them, you don’t care where just as long as you hit them. You’re holding your breath as the footsteps inch closer to your head. 

“Shadow-one.” The gruff American voice says. There’s a second of silence that feels like it lasts forever. A hand lands on your shoulder. “I have the omega.” 

Your hand flys out the bed with a grunt. The knife meets flesh and the man in front of you drops to the floor with a cry. Adrenaline pulses through you and you throw the duvet off. You jump off the bed and stand in front of him. You can’t see the stranger's face, he’s wearing a mask, you don’t think you just plunge the knife into his chest before he can get up. When you pull it out a spurt of blood follows and his eyes close. 

You killed him, you killed someone. 

“Hey!” You turn to see a similarly dressed soldier standing in the doorway. He’s not holding a weapon at you but he has one swaying by his side. You don’t think just let the adreanile control you and sprint at him with the bloody knife raised. 

“Hey! Stop!” You don’t listen to his pleas, he doesn’t reach for his weapon in time and you jump at him plunging the knife into his neck. It takes him a few seconds before he falls to the floor, all you can smell in the air now is blood. There’s blood all over you, you don’t care, you need to get to Johnny and Kate. 

You reach down to take the knife out his neck but you can’t, it’s stuck. You hear more voices now, people talking downstairs, you can’t hear Johnny though. You give up on the knife and reach down to take the pistol off the man's hip. 

Even now it still feels wrong in your hand but you remember what Simon taught you. The weapon is not the same but similar. You can see what you assume is the safety, you pull the top of the barrel until you hear a click. You’re not sure what to do, you decide to keep the safety on.

What if this all a big misunderstanding and you accidentally shoot Johnny or Kate? No, you can smell alpha as well now. There’s another alpha here who isn’t John or Simon. It’s not Hale either, someone new. You slowly start to creep down the stairs, you can't see anything there’s walls on either side of the steps so you have to rely on your hearing to know if there is anything waiting for you at the bottom. 

You only get one foot on the bottom step before someone grabs you, you scream trying to fight them but they’re stronger than you. The pistol is knocked out of your hands and you’re dragged from the bottom of the steps into the dining room. You can see Johnny, his head is bleeding, he's on his knees with a weapon pressed against his head. You gasp when you see him tears start to stream down your face. 

“No!” You shout squirming in the person's grip. As soon as Johnny registers what's happening to you he moves. Instantly the person holding the gun to his head hits him around the head with it. You’re forced to your knees by the person who has his grip on you. 

“Johnny!” You scream as his body slumps to the floor. You can see more blood now, on other parts of his body and the floor. 

“Please leave him alone!” You cry. Someone walks towards you, you recognise who he is, it's Graves, he’s the alpha you smell. It makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck.

“Nice to see you again.” You ignore him looking past at Johnny on the floor. He hasn’t moved, your stomach sinks. What if he’s dead, what if you got him killed. 

“Johnny.” You whimper. Get up Johnny please. You plead, he can’t be dead. Graves turns to see him.

“Get him to his feet.” He orders, two soldiers pull him up. He moans and looks over at you making eye contact. Graves bends down to look directly in your face. 

“You better do as you’re told or we’ll kill him.” Graves says, you can hear the anger in his voice, you can smell his alpha in the air. This is a threat, a threat he will be more than happy to follow through with. You nod feeling more tears roll down your face. 

“Good, maybe we can have some order in here now.” Graves says as he gets back up. You look around the rest of the room, you see Kate laid on the floor on the other side of the table. She’s not moving but you can’t see any blood, her face is turned away from you.  

“You’re not going to get away with this Graves.” Johnny says through gritted teeth, there’s a slur in his voice, he’s injured. He’s still trying to fight with the people holding him. 

“Easy with the threats Soap, Hale never specified what state we need the omega in.” Graves says. Johnny looks over at you, you want to plead with him, tell him not to fight. He can’t get killed for you, you shake your head. He doesn’t seem to get it looking back up at Graves.

“We’ll come after you, chase you to the ends of the earth if we have to.” Johnny says before spitting on the floor. He’s hit over the head again. It makes you feel sick, the sound of plastic hitting his skin, you sob and drop your head. 

“Good fucking luck. Clearly you have no idea where we actually are.” Graves says. “The little performance we put on at the listening post was enough to keep you occupied.” 

You look back up at Johnny, he’s not going to give up without a fight and you can’t let that happen. You need to do something or he’ll die and you won’t be able to live with yourself. You close your eyes letting out a shaky breath to compose yourself. 

You need to scuff him.  

It can take up to a minute of scuffing for a beta to pass out but Johnny’s never been scuffed before. You just need to keep firm pressure and not let him pull your hand off his neck. He’ll fight it, it’s his instinct and he’s stronger than you. 

You have to try though because if not Graves will kill him. 

The person who has his grip on you loosens it for a second. You don’t think you just sprint towards Johnny, there’s shouting and people trying to stop you. You’re able to dodge them and make it to Johnny. You throw your arms around him and he squeezes you tight, they let his arms drop too.

You feel sick, but you need him out of the way or he could be killed, or kill himself trying to protect you. “I’m so sorry.” You say moving your hand up to the back of his neck. Before he can reply or realise what's going on you dig your fingers into his scent glands. 

“I love you Johnny.” You sob as he squirms in your arms but your hand stays strong digging into the back of his neck.

“I’m so sorry, I love you.” His body collapses to the floor; it breaks your heart watching life leave his eyes. As soon as he’s unconscious on the floor you kiss his forehead. A second later arms are around you pulling you away from him.  

“Please don’t hurt him.” You sob watching his chest rise and fall. You feel a weapon pressed against your back. 

“Put a fucking peg on him and lets get out of here!” Graves orders. You’re pulled to your feet as he walks towards you, someone clamps the back of Johnny’s neck. Now he’ll be unconscious until someone finds him.

“Try anything like that again and we’ll kill you.” He says. Before you have time to say anything, fingers dig into the back of your neck. 

It feels like you can’t breathe. Your hands fly up to scratch and pull at the hand but they just dig their fingers in deeper. It doesn’t matter though, there’s nothing you can do. Your legs give way and everything goes black, the last thing you see is Johnny’s blooded body on the floor. 

Piper can smell something is wrong as soon as she gets out of the car. She can smell it in the air, the unmistakable scent of death. She swallows hard, there doesn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. She knows John, Simon and Kyle are out at the base but Kate and Johnny should be here with you.

When she makes it to the door the worry turns to panic, she can’t smell you, she can smell something just as strong though, she flares her nostrils taking in a deep breath. The rotten smell of death fills her nose, beta. Her heart sinks, Johnny was staying with you while they raided the base. She fumbles with her phone to get the code for the door, her hands are shaking as she types it in. 

The door clicks and she swings it open preparing for the worst. She sees Kate first, she drops her bag and rushes over. 

“Kate!” Piper calls as she shakes her shoulders there's no response she presses her ear against her face. She’s still breathing, she presses her knuckles hard on her sternum. Kate groans, Piper lets out a sigh of relief before turning her on her side. She looks around the rest of the room and sees Johnny. 

“Johnny!” She calls going over to him. He’s curled up in the fetal position. Before Piper can get a chance to see how he is she can see the peg on the back of his neck. She shuffles around behind him, she should hold him down when she takes this off he could lash out at her. It doesn’t matter though she needs to get it off him. She takes a deep breath and pulls the clip off, it takes a second a shaky breath leaves his throat before his eyes fly open. 

His body shoots up, Piper reaches out to steady him but he elbows her in her face. “Ow.” She cries pinching her nose and getting to her feet. Johnny is screaming, calling for you. His movement is frantic, his eyes wide and confused. She needs to calm him down. 

“John!” She calls, he turns to look at her, she can see the fear in his face, she can smell it in the air. 

“The omega. He took her.” Johnny says, his breathing picks up as he sways on his feet. He falls against the table gripping it for support. Piper goes over to help support him, he tries to shove her off and fails. 

“Easy, you don’t know how long you were out for.” Piper cautions him. He scoffs slowly walking around the table. 

“They fucking took her and I couldn’t do anything.” He says she can hear the anger in his voice, the disappointment. 

“Who?” 

“Graves, Shadow Company.” He says slumping down in a chair. Piper can see the wounds on his head, dried blood in his hair and around his face. 

“It’s not your fault, they scuffed you. You can’t do anything about that.” She says, it’s all she can really think of, he looks over and sees Kate. 

“Help Kate.” Johnny says reaching over for a phone on the table. Piper nods leaving him and going over to Kate, she’s still unconscious. Piper presses her fingers into her neck, she counts the pulse in her head looking down at her watch. 

She’s okay, she should be okay, Piper feels around her head and neck anyway. 

“Do you know what happened to her?” Piper asks. 

“I don’t know, she was unconscious when I was dragged in here.” Johnny says. She can hear him trying to call someone, she assumes John and the rest of them. She tries to focus on Kate, there are no injuries she can see. She could have been injected with something and she’s not going to know what. 

Piper reaches over for her bag, she can hear the phone ringing out but no one is picking up. 

“Fucks sake John!” Johnny snaps, Piper tries not to let the fear overtake her. You’re gone, Shadow Company have you which means it won’t be long before you’re with Hale again and they still have no idea where he is. 

Piper’s hands shake as she attaches a pulse ox to her finger. “Come on Kate, you’re going to be okay.” Piper says if just to have something to do. 

“How is she?” Johnny calls over. 

“She’s okay. Just unconscious.” Piper replies, she can hear the sake in her voice. She can’t hide it as well as they can. Kate groans, pulling Pipers attention to her, her eyes scrunch and she slowly opens them. 

“Easy, you’re okay.” Piper says. 

“Price.” Johnny says. 

“Soap we’re kind-” 

“She’s gone. Graves- he took her.” Johnny says interrupting john, Piper helps Kate sit up, she can hear the fear in his voice. She can smell it in the air. 

“What do you mean?” John asks. 

“Graves, he broke in. She’s gone.” Piper hears the break in his voice. 

“What happened?” Kate asks, rubbing her head. Piper looks back at Johnny standing holding the phone up to his mouth. He’s rubbing the back of his neck, he looks at Piper for a second then turns. Piper turns her attention back to kate. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” She asks. 

“I- I was sitting at the table. The coms went down, I called John. That's the last thing I remember.” She explains. Piper rubs her back.

“Just, sit here for a minute okay.” She says, Kate nods at her. Piper stands up letting out a breath, she turns to Johnny who’s taken the phone off speaker, he’s pacing in the kitchen. She flares her nostrils, she can still smell death in the air, dead beta. She follows the smell heading for the stairs, as she walks up the smell gets stronger, hairs stand up on the back of her neck. 

She makes it to the hallway, there’s one body half inside a room half outside, as she gets closer she can see the pool of blood, there’s a knife sticking out the side of his neck. She uses her foot to roll him onto his back, he doesn’t respond, he’s definitely dead. She steps over him to walk to the next room when she hears a moan. 

It makes her jump, it’s coming from the room the dead body is half inside. Adrenaline rises in her, she reaches down keeping her eyes on the room door and pulls the knife out the dead man's neck. Blood spurts out but she ignores it standing up and slowly walking into the room. 

There hasn’t been another noise, maybe she imagined it, people can still make noise after they’ve died, it could have been that. She’s holding her breath as she walks into the room, there’s a weapon at the end of the bed, she kicks it out the way as she walks around to the other side of the bed. 

She gasps when she sees the person on the floor, there’s a lot of blood she can smell it, he’s still alive though his hand pressed on his chest. They can get info from him, he probably knows where you are, and where Hale is. 

“Johnny!” She shouts watching as the man looks up at her. Before he gets a chance to unclip his pistol she jumps on him.

Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui

[theegyal]

HUSH [ Annie x Smoke ]

Chapitre 2 : The pharmacist and the Soldier

2:00 PM

Lois has fallen asleep in her backseat, unaware of her mother's turmoil. What a one year old infant can do for her, after all ?

Annie parked in front of the huge mansion. After struggling that much in Mississippi, Elijah and her moved out to Chicago to raise a family. The beginning of their story was deep cut into aches, pains and disillusions.

After suffering from two miscarriages, years of depression and post traumatic stress, she got pregnant on Spring 1999.

Their couple started to heal. Well, it had never been wounded. Elijah loved her hard, so hard she used to wonder if it might kill him. . He held her through nights when neither of them could sleep.

Lois was born on the same cold December. Annie remembered her husband panicking, rushing everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He carried her in a royal way, installed her in their great ol' car then drove off to the hospital.

He stayed there for eight hours. Sharing pain with his wife on labor.

"How ironic it is" She turned off the engine and gently lifted Lois from the seat, careful not to wake her. The baby stirred but settled quickly against her mother's chest.

Inside, Annie laid her in the cradle, pulling the knitted blanket over her legs with tender hands. Then she stood still, watching her daughter sleep.

The house was too quiet.

It used to hum with Elijah's presence. Playing his guitar, watching his famous thriller series, raging in front of the T.V.

But now he was no longer there . Gone.

Annie walked away from Lois and stepped into the living room.  stared at the wall of photographs . Her favorite wasn't the wedding picture. It was the one from Lois's birth—Elijah holding their daughter for the first time, eyes wide with disbelief and wonder.

"Lulu" Annie whispered "you was so little"

She brushed her long fingers over the photo, lingering on Elijah Moore's face.

"And you" she buckled under her nose "My love. I'm so proud of you. I'm glad you're still alive."

Her monologue started "It hurts to know that, I will never in this lifetime, wake up and see your face again, sensing your hand tightening me close to you chest"

A hiccup cracked her voice, but she pressed on, a frail smile "I hope you eat well. You need to teach this...Olivia, your mother's recipe. The one you love so much that you always clean the plate when I cooked it"

Her lungs were burning, flames down her stomach, twisted, pushing her to the edge of shattering.

"And if the nightmares are still comin'..." She paused, swallowed. "Hold your necklace. If you still got it."

She felt ridiculous, speaking to a motionless picture. But, regardless of what her nosy neighbors might think —or even what her own mind tried to say—this was Annie's only way..  Her only way to convey the  feelings she still has. Her last goodbye.

8:30 PM

"If she gets up later on, I have a mango apple smoothie in the fridge. Feed her with the beverage."

Annie wore her hair in an updo—pressed at the front, edges laid, the rest twisted and pinned into a tight bun at the back. She was dressed in a long-length dress, a corset pulling her waist straight. The woman looked poised, confident, and relaxed. No one could guess the turmoil, the sadness, the aches behind that fake smile she offered.

"Alright, Mrs. Moore."

An imposter.

She felt like an imposter every single time someone called her that. Moore. She wasn't a spouse anymore.

"You can call me Annie..."

9:12 PM

Annie stepped into the garage, Lois already fast asleep upstairs in her crib. The sitter had turned on the hallway light, left the living room dim and quiet just how she asked. No TV. No noise. Just peace.

Annie grabbed her keys from the hook, slipped into her coat, and opened the car door. Her old Honda Civic coughed when it started, headlights flickering before they held. She pulled out of the driveway slow, careful not to wake the neighbors' dog who barked at everything after dark.

The streets were half-empty now. Chicago by night had a rhythm of its own—streetlights buzzing, corner stores still open, men selling bootlegs from the trunks of cars. Young girls in puffer coats laughing too loud. Cops parked in shadows, watching.

She drove past it all, carefully. Hands steady on the wheel. Eyes locked on the red lights ahead.

It took her thirteen minutes to reach the pharmacy.

Hayes Pharmacy was the name, but nobody used it like that. Most people just called it Mrs Moore's. It stood near the laundromat and the chicken spot, right where the N4 bus turned. A squat little building with green paint peeling off the trim and a busted neon sign that buzzed too loud when it rained.

She parked out back, entered through the staff door, and locked it behind her. Inside, the smell of rubbing alcohol and paper dust hit her like a habit.

"Evenin', Mrs Moore" came a voice from behind the counter.

It was her colleague : Terrence. College student. Pharmacy tech. Dreadlocks tied up under a Bulls cap.

"You are quite late," he added with a polite smile.

She rolled her eyes, tugging off her gloves. "Not all of us got time to flirt with customers between restocking vitamins, dear."

He laughed, held up both hands. "You got me."

She hung up her coat, tied her white smock around her waist, and moved to the counter. Her name tag caught the light: A. Moore, RPh. It used to make her proud. Now, it felt like borrowed skin.

"I really need to modify it..." she murmured for herself.

"Anything urgent?"

"Nah. Just Ms. Hall again. Picked up her pain meds. Asked about your baby, though."

Annie nodded. She pulled out the ledger, flipped to tonight's log, and started scanning prescriptions.

Another night. Another shift.

10:44 PM

The radio hummed low from the back office—Luther, maybe Marvin. She was not paying attention.

Terrence had clocked out an hour ago, mumbled a quick "night, Doc" before disappearing through the back door with his headphones on. Annie barely noticed. She'd stayed behind the counter, organizing the bottom shelves—restocking the ibuprofen, sliding new boxes of allergy pills into place.

The bell above the door jingled.

She didn't look up. Just called out automatically, "We do close in fifteen minute. What you need?"

A man's voice answered—calm, familiar. "Excuse me madam, just something for a headache. Migraine's been at me all day."

That lazy tone, the one he always infused with sighs and arching brows.

Annie's spine stiffened.

The bottle in her hand slipped slightly against her palm. It was him, her soulmate, the only one who made her felt like a woman.

Annie's breath caught somewhere between her ribs.

She snatched the name tag from her chest—A. Moore—and shoved it into her pocket with shaking fingers. Her body moved before her brain caught up, legs turning her slowly around.

And there the man was.

Elijah.

Not in uniform. Not dressed up. Just... standing there. In a grayed hoodie. Black jeans. Hands in his pockets.

The soft sounds of the radio seemed to vanish. The lights felt too bright. Annie's knees buckled, but she caught herself against the counter edge.

"S—Sir" she replied, trying to gain her composure back. "Do you have any prescription?"

Elijah looked at the woman seconds to long , then exclaimed with a teasing tone

"Oh, ain’t it the store's lady ?"

Tag list :

@thelifeoflagab @juniooox @tadjoa @shamansha @brownskincheyenne @freelandgoddess @Ib-xci @blaqgirlmagicyallcantstandit @iammyownlover @stormynovashambler @summrsovrinterlude @prettygirl2800 @puffmamaa @harleycativy @jasssdee1 @itstayleigh @queenofklonnie22 @bigjh @tadjoa @Isc72

[balkanradfem]

So I got incredibly lucky; one of the ladies I know is about to move, and she's looking to get rid of a lot of her stuff, so she called me up and asked me, if I wanted her old knitting supplies. And oh did I want her knitting supplies. I was at her place in 15 minutes, receiving a ful bag of various yarn and needles, and thanking her endlessly, which honestly had her a bit concerned for me. I got home, I snooped through everything, and I got, a LOT of supplies.

I divided the yarn based on fiber content; I have one smaller bag of cotton yarn, few little balls of wool, and a big bag of various acrylics; now this immediately had me in ethical peril, because if I make something out of acrylic yarn, and then I put it into the wash, it's going to leek microplastic all over the place, and I can't emotionally handle that. But if I made stuff that I never wash, it's possible that all the microplastic will just stay in the yarn, it's the wretched machine that makes it shed. So what I need is just horrible laundry habits, and I have that. What I really want is to learn how to make a hat, and if I end up making a wearable hat, I can just handwash it maybe? But even just the knowledge of making it is valuable to me.

So, I went back to learn how to knit; two years ago I made an unusable hat with messy yarn I found on the street, and using paintbrushes instead of needles. But I forgot how I've done that. So I pulled up a tutorial, and immediately I ran into several issues trying to make a practice sheet. I kept increasing the number of stitches I had, every row, and I didn't know how that was happening, and all the stitches on the end were loose and my little practice sheet was a mess. I imagined this happened to other people as well, so I looked up solutions – and found them, and then I was finally able to make a good looking little practice sheet! I made fabric and it looked nice!

That sheet was made using the knit stitch, and I needed to learn the purl stitch as well, something I've never tried before. And the purl stitch. Is a nightmare. I could not get my hands to memorize how to do it! Doing the purl-stitch practice sheet was a fight to the death between me and yarn. For every stitch I had to consciously think about every step, I couldn't do one smoothly, I had to wrestle with the yarn to death to make it happen. When it was over I felt like I gave my life for it and it had the nerve to look exactly like the knit sheet. They're the same stitch! But one is easy and the other is created in hell to torment me!

But okay, at least I knew how to purl, and could pull it off struggling and crying all the way trough. Time to knit.

I wanted to make a hat. I decided to use black yarn because there was a lot of it, and mentally prepared myself for the fact that I will make a very bad hat. I was going to follow all the instructions, and I had the stitches down, but it was going to still look very bad because it's my first, but I will learn a lot and I need to be cool with that. So with this mindset, I started.

Immediately I had to unravel the first row 5 different times due to multiple different mistakes with cast on (100 stitches!), and when I finally started the third row I realized that I forgot to co-join the edges to actually form a circle. This is where I had to go rogue. I knew then that if I were to unravel the hat one more time, it would never get done. I connected the edges belatedly, and then, another mistake presented itself.

See I was following a pattern, but the pattern specified a yarn size and circular needle size, but I never considered that having different weight of yarn and needle would affect my hat whatsoever. It was only on my 5th row that I realized my hat was way too big, like it would fit 2 heads, and at that point I'm like, oh I'm not starting over. I'm too deep in. I'm gonna reduce the amount of stitches now. Pattern is gone it's dead to me.

After 7th or 8th row I finally gave up on the purl stitch and decided to just end it in knit, because I was moving so slow, and at this point I am obsessed with the hat. I'm neglecting everything else in life in favour of obsessively knitting, my wrists hurt, my neck hurts, my both arms hurt, I want the hat to be done, I don't care how ugly it is. This is where I encountered another problem: the cable on the needles is too long for the hat, so it's tense and getting harder and harder to knit using it.

I am once again, fighting for my life against the tool I'm working with, I didn't understand why they made these needles like this and it kept getting worse until it got so tense that... part of the cable popped out. And I went OH.

The entire time... I could have pulled out a part of the cable and the hat would pleasantly sit on the rest of it, with the normal amount of tension. I felt like an idiot. But then how else was I supposed to learn this? Was I supposed to look up how to use circular needles before grabbing them? I looked at them once and said 'how hard can it be' and went on my merry way. But it could have been worse. I could have made the entire hat not realizing this was an option. At least it was just 10 rows of dumb behaviour.

I worked on the hat until 11:30pm the first day, and I got half of it done. I'm surprised by how good the knit stitch is looking; I expected to be worse at this. I wonder if it's because I had experience with weaving baskets from natural fibers, which taught me to keep continuous tension while doing it. I'm gonna finish this tomorrow and show you the results!

[paramountinplace]

Hi I loved the beach story thanks so much for doing my request:3. Maybe if you’re up for it I have some ideas for part 5/or just random fic.

The next day, Mari is super fussy because she is sore from playing too hard, and she woke up with a wet pull up when she insisted she didn’t need so she’s a little embarrassed tai was right. Gen is feeling big, so she’s able to help get Mari through the day. Jackie is unintentionally invading Mari’s personal space, so naturally Mari hits her. Jackie freaks out and runs to Shauna crying. Shauna, who’s feeling big, comforts Jackie, gets her an ice pack even though she probably doesn’t even need one.

Mari being so snuggly when she’s tired and sore, normally she’d hate being held.

Laura Lee washing all the sand out of Lottie’s hair since she got put to bed right away after beach without a bath. Laura Lee would love doing Lottie’s hair.

Meanwhile Van is miserable. She threw up in the middle of the night, her face burns, she’s still tired, and can’t stop picking at her sunburn and scratching her face. Tai has a lot of work to get done, and for a little bit she can’t hold Van on her lap, who freaks because she’s too little to understand work and why Tai isn’t paying attention to her when she feels so yucky.

Mel is able to help a lot. She shows Van one of her animal books, gently rubs her back like she saw Tai doing, making sure she’s getting enough water, filling up her Bluey sippy cup with ice water. Van falls asleep against Mel for a little bit, then wakes up like 30 minutes later crying from a nightmare about the wolf attack, triggered by the face pain. At this point Tai is done working and rushes in, puts more gel on, which Van immediately tries to wipe off, and gives Van some much much needed snuggles.

Van falls back asleep, and tai carefully puts her in a pull up and reapplies the gel.

Love, 🐨🐨

Life Was A Beach (Life's a Beach series bonus)

Summary: Inspired by the lovely ideas above! The day after the YJs go on their beach trip manages to be just as eventful as the one prior.

The moment she woke up, Mari felt wrong. She lay still with her eyes clenched shut, trying to will away whatever had woken her and maybe fall back asleep for a little, but there was a dull ache in her leg that just kept growing. Groaning, she shifted to see if that would make it go away, but moving only made her aware that it was her whole body that felt achey, not just her leg. On top of it all, she realized she needed a change, which made her stomach flip frustratedly because she had been so sure that she hadn't needed to wear a pull-up to bed.

She shoved her way out of bed, uncaring that one of her teddies fell to the floor and wrenched the closet open. The noise made Akilah, still curled up in bed, shift a little, but Mari couldn't quite bring herself to care. She stalked into the bathroom and shut the door a little too hard. A few tears managed to sneak out of her eyes as she changed and she leaned over the sink to splash her face with water, making angry faces at herself in the mirror to convince herself that angry is what she was feeling.

When she swung the door open again, Gen was standing a few paces away, brow furrowed worriedly. Her eyes moved quick, taking in the bundle of clothes in Mari's hand and the way her eyes were just a little red.

"Hey, Mar," she murmured, stepping forward.

Mari felt her resolve crumbling the second she was within arms reach of Gen. She'd been trying so hard to be angry but a cuddle from Gen sounded really nice. Her words got stuck in her throat when she tried to open her mouth and explain, but Gen just shook her head and draped an arm over Mari's shoulders, pulling her in for a quick hug.

"Drop those in your laundry bin and we'll go get something to eat, alright?" She directed gently, giving Mari a gentle push.

Mari nodded and walked quickly to toss her clothes in her room. She reached for Gen's hand when she went back out into the hallway, letting herself be led downstairs.

Jackie, Mel, and Shauna were in the kitchen already and their unexpected presence made her step a little closer to Gen. She didn't want to sit at the table with Jackie and Mel while Gen got something for her to eat, so she trailed along behind the other girl, leaning into the brief hug that Shauna offered her after passing Gen a bowl.

She was quiet as she picked at her breakfast until Mel started hiccuping, brought on by drinking her juice a little too fast.

"Shut up," she hissed, annoyed by the sounds that kept startling her into fumbling with her spoon. Mel shrunk back in her seat and Shauna shot her a look, which made her stomach churn again and she pushed her bowl away, leaning into Gen's side.

"Kind words," Gen reminded her, rubbing her shoulder.

Eating the rest of her breakfast sounded about as enjoyable as doing maths facts and Gen didn't push her, clearing Mari's bowl for her and offering up the idea that they head into the sitting room to play.

Mari made herself comfortable at Gen's feet with her Barbies so that she could lean back against Gen's shins while she played. She was making her doctor one fight her Ken doll one for his secret chili recipe so she could win the chili cook off and get a million dollars to fix all the sickness in the world when Jackie padded over and took a seat by Mari.

"Can I play?"

Mari nodded, handing off her Ken doll to Jackie.

"You can be the chili man."

Jackie wrinkled her nose. "I don't know if I want to be the chili man."

"That's the game," Mari replied matter-of-factly. Jackie sighed, but put on a gruff little voice so she could be the chili man. They played for a while until Jackie got a little fed up with the role she'd been assigned and groaned, dropping the Ken doll on the ground.

"Are you sure there isn't any other person I can be?"

Mari shook her head firmly. Her body was achey and now her head had started to hurt a little bit too and she really didn't feel like arguing with Jackie about this.

"You're chili man."

"But you've got better dolls over there," Jackie said, leaning forward as she reached over Mari to grab a different Barbie from the stash she had on her other side. Something bubbled up in Mari's stomach at the feeling of Jackie so close to her and she threw a hand out, smacking Jackie in the shoulder to get her to move.

"Aw, Mar," Gen leapt in from behind them, leaning forward to grab Mari's hand before she could hit out at Jackie again. Tears were welling up in Jackie's eyes and she pushed to her feet, running out of the room before either of them could say anything. Mari's own eyes were welling up traitorously and she didn't protest when Gen pulled her up into her lap, cradling her against her chest.

She leant her head against Gen's shoulder, the tip of her thumb slipping between her lips.

"What's up with you today, huh?" Gen hummed, rocking them back and forth slightly.

Mari didn't reply, feeling much calmer now that she was being held. She'd been expecting to get a scolding for hitting Jackie, but Gen hadn't said anything about it yet. She let out a long sigh, nestling a little closer.

Over in the kitchen, Shauna was bent over her book at the table. She was so absorbed in it that she didn't realize Jackie had come back into the room until the other girl threw herself tearily against Shauna's side.

"Woah, hey," she said, closing her book to wrap her arms around Jackie. "What's the matter?"

"Mari hit me," Jackie sniffled.

Shauna resisted the urge to leap to her feet and storm into the other room to scold Mari, taking in a slow breath as she rubbed a hand soothingly over Jackie back.

"Why'd she do that?"

Jackie wilted a little, dropping her head down onto Shauna's shoulder.

"I just didn't want to be chili man, so I reached over her to get a different doll," she explained.

"Chili man? What?"

Jackie shrugged, leaning against Shauna's side a little harder and she pushed her chair back to allow her to climb up into her lap. She wrapped her arms more fully around Jackie.

"Well, I'm sorry you got got, honey," she said. Jackie nodded against her chest.

"Ice might help," she murmured.

Shauna bit back a laugh. "Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," Jackie hummed, rubbing her arm with a hand emphatically. Shauna did chuckle at that, leaning down to place a quick kiss to the apparently affected area.

"Alright." She gently nudged Jackie off her lap so she could stand up. "Let's get you an ice pack."

"The pink one?" Jackie asked, pouting cutely as if Shauna needed any more encouragement to give her what she wanted.

The pink one," she confirmed, unearthing the correct ice pack and wrapping it in a towel before she forked it over. They settled back into Shauna's chair, Jackie leaning back against her chest so that she could pretend to read Shauna's book with her. Shauna read a few parts out loud here and there, omitting the parts that were either too boring or too intense.

She heard the bath, which had been running for a while upstairs, finally flip off and the distinct sound of Lottie's giggles filtering through the ceiling.

"Doesn't it feel much better without all that icky sand all over?" Laura Lee hummed, dragging a comb gently through Lottie's damp hair. A few droplets of water dripped onto Lottie's shirt and she squirmed, whining uncomfortably. "Shh, sorry, sorry."

She grabbed the towel she'd discarded on the floor after she got Lottie into her clothes and draped it around her shoulders again so that her shirt wouldn't get all wet. Lottie relaxed, leaning back against the bed. She was sitting on the floor while Laura Lee sat on the bed behind her so that she could easily run her fingers through Lottie's hair.

"Plaits or ponytails?" She mused, brushing her fingers over Lottie's forehead in the way she knew the other girl liked. Lottie's head tipped back, eyes closed. "Don't fall asleep, now."

She decided on plaits because they were more fun for her and separated Lottie's hair into sections, talking all the while to keep Lottie still and entertained. She was vaguely recounting the plot of one of Jackie's favorite books, but with her own twists and add-ons because she couldn't quite remember the original. Lottie seemed to get a kick out of it, humming along to the parts she liked and giggling at mostly the right spots.

"All done," Laura Lee said, tying off the second plait. She gave Lottie's shoulders a pat, taking the damp towel off her. She was about to reach down to tug Lottie up onto the bed when there was a small knock at the door and Tai poked her head in, looking frantic.

"Is Nat home?" She asked, gaze sweeping the room like she was going to find the girl hiding in the corners. Laura Lee shook her head.

"I don't think so. What's up?"

Tai thunked her head against the doorframe. "I've got some work to do and Van's—"

She waved her hand vaguely, distressed expression crossing her face.

"—having a rough time. She threw up last night from the burn and she's been fussy all day. I was hoping Nat would be able to watch her for a bit."

"Um, well, Shauna's downstairs and I could take her for a little, if you needed," she offered.

Tai didn't reply right away, distant as she worked through possible solutions in her head. Something seemed to come to her because she shook her head, giving Laura Lee a quick smile.

"That's alright, thanks, Laura Lee."

Tai turned away from the door, shutting it softly behind her. If she was lucky, Mel was going to be in a good mood and feeling old enough to hang out with Van for a little bit.

Van was still sitting on the bed where she'd left her, face streaked with tears, and she reached for Tai when she came back into the room. She scooped her up and hugged her close for a long moment before setting her back down on her feet, much to Van's dismay.

"Shh, I know," she murmured, wiping at Van's cheeks with a thumb. Her burn had started peeling, made worse by Van scratching and picking at her face whenever Tai wasn't looking. "I'm sorry, baby. We're gonna go see Mel now, okay?"

Van sniffled, but she nodded and padded along behind Tai obediently. They found Mel in the sitting room, curled up in a bean bag with a book. Gen was with Mari over on the couch and Tai could hear Shauna with Jackie in the kitchen, so she didn't feel too bad about dropping Van with Mel.

"Hey, Mel," she greeted, smiling. "I've gotta do some work for a bit, would you mind hanging out with Van while I do that?"

Mel nodded eagerly, grinning and patting the bean bag beside her. She loved hanging out with Van.

"Okay! We can read my animal facts book!" She chirped, showing them the cover.

"That sounds good, bud," Tai nodded. She gently urged Van to sit down, pressing a kiss to her forehead and giving her hands a firm squeeze. "I'll be back soon, baby. Have fun with Mel, okay?"

As she walked away, Van started to sniffle again, and Mel scooted closer so that she could pull Van into her side. The readhead nestled into her shoulder and she tilted the book towards her.

"Check it out, Van," she whispered, pointing at one of her favorite pages. It was all about meerkats. "These guys have like, super senses."

She could feel Van's tears seeping into her t-shirt as she kept reading, but she was calm other than that, not even picking at her face as she listened to Mel explain various animals to her. It occurred to Mel after a while that she should probably get Van some water, since she was still kinda sick from her burn and had just cried. She handed Van the book and carefully maneuvered away.

"I'm gonna get us some water. Find a good page for when I'm back, okay?"

She ran into the kitchen as quickly as she could without slipping.

"Woah, what's the hurry, bud?" Shauna asked from the kitchen table.

Mel reached up into the cabinet where they kept the sippycups, rummaging around for the one she knew was Van's favorite. It had a blue dog and a little orange dog on it. She was very proud when she managed to get it down without knocking any other cups over and she filled it halfway with ice before pouring some water into it.

"Can you screw this tight?" She asked, bringing the cup over to Shauna. Jackie peered down at the cup curiously as Shauna tightened the lid onto the cup for her. "It's for Van."

"Oh, good idea, pal," Shauna praised, tugging on one of her plaits. "There's juice in the fridge too, if you want to give her some of that later."

Mel nodded, filing the information away for later use as she hurried back into the sitting room. Van was still where she'd left her, poring over the book as she gnawed at the cuff of her shirt.

"Here," Mel instructed, gently tugging the book away to replace with the water. Van grumbled, but stuck the spout in her mouth, sighing a little when she took a drink.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Satisfied, Mel nodded and settled back into the beanbag, letting Van lean up against her again. She'd opened the book to the page about lizards, so Mel started reading and adding her own bits of knowledge in wherever it seemed like it made sense.

After a while, she felt Van getting heavier against her side and she craned her neck to take a peek at the redhead's face. Her eyes had slid shut, breathing going long and slow as she started to doze. Mel tried very hard not to move too much as she settled back, continuing to flip through her animal book to entertain herself.

Van twitched a little as she was looking at the page on gazelles, a little noise slipping from her lips and Mel carefully reached around so she could run a hand over Van's back, going in slow circles like she'd seen Tai do before. She tipped her cheek down against the top of Van's head like she'd seen Tai do too.

It seemed to calm Van well enough and she settled again.

Mel got through a few more pages before the calm broke finally and Van jerked awake, crying out as her hands came up defensively in front of her. She was sobbing and Mel leapt up frantically, unsure what exactly she was supposed to do. The noise had drawn Gen's attention and she was starting to get up to come over, but Tai came flying into the room before she reached them, kneeling down in front of Van and tugging a hand away from clawing at her cheek.

"Van, hey," she murmured, trying to catch Van's eyes with her own. "Baby, look at me."

Van's eyes caught on Taissa's and she pitched forward, falling into her arms desperately.

"Mel, bud, could you run upstairs and grab the blue stuff sitting on my nightstand?" Tai asked, moving so she could sit in the spot Van had been sitting in before, keeping the girl on her lap.

Mel nodded, taking off up the stairs. She grabbed the bottle and hurried back downstairs, passing it off to Tai before taking a seat next to her anxiously. Van had calmed now that she was in Tai's arms and she let Mel press the Bluey cup into her hands again without argument. She took a few more drinks while Tai smeared some of the burn gel across her cheeks again, wrinkling her nose unhappily at the feeling.

She couldn't lean her face against Tai's shoulder while they waited for it to dry, which made her fussy again, but Mel grabbed the animal book again and started reading about giraffes, which got Van's attention. She and Tai took turns continuing to read from the book until Van was allowed to bury her face in Tai's shoulder again.

Tai breathes out a sigh when she feels Van drop off into sleep again, giving Mel a grateful pat on the shoulder.

"You did awesome, buddy," she said, smiling when Mel blushed a little, pleased at the compliment. "You tired at all? I'm gonna head back upstairs with Van for a nap."

Mel shook her head, content to keep sitting and reading her book, and she waved goodbye as Tai left the room.

Upstairs, she carefully got Van changed, adding a pull-up into the mix when she remembered the empty cup that had been sitting nearby the beanbags. Van stirred a little, eyes sliding open and shut blearily as she registered being moved around, but Tai kept murmuring to her and she fell back asleep fully within minutes. She smoothed a bit more of the burn gel onto Van's cheeks where it had smudged off and tucked her dino teddy into her arms before climbing into the bed beside her. She had her laptop open on her lap, typing gingerly so as not to wake Van.

As she worked and Van slept, she wondered vaguely if there was a different, non-beach related trip they could take for their next outing that might go a little smoother.

I hope you enjoyed!

[deergirldean]

your writing and understanding of the characters is so good you get me into whatever prompt you wrote, love that about you

anyway, can i please just get your intake for a fifteen year old dean and a nineteen year old sam? so, reverse weecest, just- just anything you want

aww, that's so sweet. thank you :') i appreciate it!

i think older sam would have be equally overprotective and tender with young dean, wanting to teach him everything he can. he'd be very eager to be a mentor for him, taking on the big brother role rather naturally.

it would show through in every aspect of their relationship, whether it be soft things like letting young dean sleep in his bed when he has a nightmare, or when the two get older and practice kissing.

older sam is basically the nerdy older brother, one with little experience in the relationship department, but he wants to be a good role model for dean, so he tries regardless.

sam doesn't want to cross any boundaries, terrified of corrupting his younger brother, but occasionally, he lets dean sit in his lap as he goes through his favorite porn sites. sam is much shyer about anything sexual, and the few times dean caught him jerking off, he felt immense shame. it's not like he didn't cum to the image of dean watching him, but he still felt guilty for it.

but when dean gets more curious about sex, especially his own cock, he goes to his brother first. sam gets embarrassed, worried they're crossing the line. but part of him 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 to cross those boundaries, wants to be the one to aid his little brother when he needs him. he longs to be a good role model, and to be the person dean comes to (both figuratively and literally.)

so he sits dean down in his lap, pulls his boxers down carefully, and moves his hand up and down on his cock. he over-explains every action, anxiety and excitement taking over. he whispers soft praises in his little brother's ear, telling him he's doing such a good job.

dean buries his head in the crook of sam's neck, breathing in his scent as his big brother teaches him how to pleasure himself. sam's very cuddly and affectionate with dean, especially when he finishes jerking off, wanting to shower him with love and praise.

even when the two get older, with dean being 15 and sam being 19, they still keep up the routine, although usually with dean at his side rather than in his lap. sam teaches dean how to suck cock, letting his younger brother use him as practice. it feels so good, so it certainly can't be wrong.

and when dean begs sam to teach him how to have sex, sam knows it's dirty. he knows it's crossing a line, one they can't come back from. but if not sam, who else will teach dean? so he gently fucks him, their sex growing rougher and harder the more they do it.

eventually, when dean gets a "real" girlfriend, they stop touching each other the way they used to. but he'll continue to be dean's big brother-boyfriend from the sidelines, secretly seething with jealousy.

[oneandahalfwolf]

Ben made quick work of wrapping their feet and putting their socks back on, before they dumped all the trash taking care of their wounds had made into the nearby garbage bin. They took a grounding breath before heaving themself up to their feet, turning to sort the first aid kit. It didn’t take too long since the brand new bag was pretty much organised how they would have liked anyway. They just needed to shift a few things and add what they already had, including one of the inhalers from the pharmacy bag.

When they were done, they closed the kit, before moving their attention to the bag they had received from the pharmacy. They pulled out the antibiotics, a red inhaler, a blue inhaler, and some painkillers – placing them on the bed. The rest of the bag would be distributed to different bags and pockets tomorrow for easy access. Normally they might have done it before bed, but they were exhausted. Plus, they could feel Ember’s eyes on them and figured the fox wouldn’t go to sleep until they got into bed.

So instead they moved the two bags over to the trolley and fished out a fresh hoodie from their duffel, pulling it over their head. They had to make sure they stayed warm to get the best sleep, something often difficult for them even when sleeping inside. Now dressed they grabbed a bottle of water and their backpack before they headed back to the bed to sit down. They unpacked the two inhalers and placed them on the bedside table, before they popped the required number of pills onto the duvet. The werewolf swallowed the whole lot in one go, taking another swig of water after before closing the bottle and placing it next to the inhalers. Med packets were placed into their backpack and a phone charger was pulled out. Finally they set an alarm on their phone so they wouldn’t miss check out and plugged it in.

As they threw the phone next to them on the bed, they noticed the empty takeout dish and hoodie still on the floor. With a hang on gesture to Ember, they binned the container and threw the hoodie over to the laundry pile. That done they gave their fox friend a raised brow and tilted head before finally, finally, slipping under the covers. There was apprehension in their gut, since beds still made them feel uneasy given the activities usually involved with the piece of furniture, but they did their best to shove it away. After days on the concrete streets with only a cardboard box as a barrier, their body needed the softness, even if their brain and psyche didn’t. They just hoped nightmares wouldn’t come due to it. The fox had already been forced to see their body and whilst she’d not apparently had a problem, she didn’t deserve to be subject to another piece of their trauma.

They shook their head free of the dark thoughts, turning their attention to the red inhaler and taking two puffs, grateful to have access this particular one again. Hopefully it would help their sleep like it used to. At last, they had taken the last of their meds and could turn in. Grey eyes moved to look at the being on the other bed.

“Goodnight Ember,” Ben said, giving their friend a smile before reaching up and turning off the light from the nearby switch. The room plunged into darkness, only lit by the moonlight coming through the thin curtains. The witchling was quick to roll over onto their front, doing their best to get comfortable with their wounds. They couldn’t help but nuzzle their freshly shaved head against the pillow, enjoying the sensation before they settled, exhaling and doing their best to relax their body – praying to any gods that sleep would come fast and be peaceful.

Orianna let the moment go for as long as her new friend needed it too. The scratches were as much a source of comfort for them as it was a way for them to offer gratitude.

She looked up at them as they urged her to settle for the night. She could at least curl up. Her new jacket was warm, and these beds were softer than anything she'd slept on in months.

The Fox Fairy jumped over to her own assigned bed and paced a few circles before curling up, facing her friend. Her head remained high, and it was clear she was watching Ben. Orianna would not be attempting sleep until she was certain Ben had curled up under the covers themself.

As they took care of themself, she took the time to puzzle over their abilities. They were of magical descent obviously, and seemed to have sustained magical wounds of some sort. There was no clarity of which community they'd come from though.

She knew they smelled of smoke, and something canine. It hardly narrowed things down, and there were no other obvious signs. Was the kid blocked in some way? Had this 'mistress' person done something to hinder their magical heritage? It was a mystery worth solving.