#considering moving back here until life calms down but for now i am on both blogs

[jpmarvel90]

Don't let me down - part 2

Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist

Part 1

Relationship: MamaScarlett x 16 yr old Reader

Summary: Will Y/n decide to be fostered by Scarlett and Colin?

Word count: 5339

Y/n's POV:

"Scarlett, I don't know." I admit, dropping my head. This is all too much right now. In the last three hours everything in my life has turned completely upside down. I've met my biological mom, the truth behind the abuse we've suffered at the hands of Mr Woodstock has come out, and now we're all being moving to new homes. In my case, my biological mother's home.

"We met less than three hours ago. We were meant to be getting to know each other first. Now I'm meant to just move in with you and your family." I say, trying to keep my breathing calm, but not succeeding. Scarlett carefully steps forward and places a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, look at me. Can you take a couple of deep breaths for me?" She asks quietly. She takes exaggerated breaths herself and I try to match her, which is difficult when I can see the stare of Colin and Danny on me.

"There you go. You're doing such a good job." She compliments me when I manage to get my breathing back under control. She gives me a small smile and steps back slightly to give me space again, something that I'm grateful for. "I know this is all a lot to take in right now. But we can still get to know each other. We won't rush anything. But I meant what I said.  We would like to adopt you. I'm aware that I can't make up for the decision I made 16 years ago, especially considering the impact it's had on your life. But I'd like to try and make up for it now and make sure that you are safe and happy." She explains to me. I look at her face, trying to see if there is a lie in there, but when I can't find one, I let out a sigh.

My mind is torn. On one side, I  don't know what I want when it comes to my relationship with Scarlett. We were supposed to get time to do this the right way. Spend some time together, know more about the other. This is all so rushed and what if she spends time with me and doesn't like me? I'll be back to where I am now, waiting for my next home.

But on the other hand, I don't know what would happen to me if I'm moved to another group home this evening. Would I stay there, would it just be temporary. What if they're no better than Mr Woodstock? At least with Scarlett I'd be safe right? Almost as if he can sense my turmoil, Danny steps forward now and gains my attention.

I like Danny, for some reason I feel completely safe around him. He has kind eyes and I get the idea that he's a person that spends his time helping others. "Your placement with Scarlett is just for a couple days until we can get their foster status assessed by a judge on Monday. I know that's not long to establish a relationship between you both, but I can see you're a smart girl. You've spent your life having to act older than you are. You'll know in that time if it's somewhere you feel safe and if you want to continue living there if they get their foster status approved." He explains calmly, though I can see Scarlett glaring daggers at him for even suggesting it. Which makes me fight to hide a giggle.

"She's glaring at me, isn't she?" He asks at a whisper, a smirk on his face. I nod, laughing, which takes Scarlett by surprise. "You've got my number, if you ever feel uncomfortable, you call me, and I'll be there." He offers, returning back to the serious discussion. "Ok, we'll see how things go this weekend." I say, sighing as my brain isn't sure if this is the right decision. But by the looks on Scarlett's face she couldn't be happier.

"Why don't we go and collect your things from your room. Then you can head off." Danny suggests, pointing towards the house. I nod and lead them on the way. As we're climbing the stairs, I can see that Scarlett and Colin are looking around. It's not the nicest of places. It's run down and there are too many kids that are living here for the space there is.

I direct them to the room that I share with 4 other girls. "I don't have much." I mumble as I point to my bed. "That's ok, do you have any bags?" Scarlett asks, her eyes glossy as they look over the room. "Uh, everything I have is in that box and I have some clothes in the wardrobe which I can fit in my duffle." I explain. "Ok, well, you point out what you want to take, and we can pack it up. Colin, can you take the box?" Scarlett directs, taking control.

I grab the couple of things from my bedside table and go to put them in my box. "Who's that?" Colin asks when he spots a photo in my hand. A smile grows on my face. "That's Laura. She's my best friend." I reply. I love this photo. We're in our soccer kit and she's on my back cheering as we had just won the match. (A/n: I just have to say how hard it is writing soccer when I'm English! Please understand the pain lol!)

I notice Colin smirk and I raise an eyebrow at him, but she shrugs and goes back to making sure everything in the box is secure. "You play soccer?" Scarlett asks me with a smile. "Yeah, I joined at the start of last year. I love it." I share, a smile now appearing on my own face. "Rose is going to love you. She's just started playing. She'll love being able to play with you." Scarlett shares as if it's the most natural thing. But for me, it's a reminder to me that she has a ready made family. That thought makes my smile disappear in an instance.

With everything packed up, we head downstairs. It's sad that everything I own in life fits in a box and a duffle bag. But I try not to dwell on that. Life isn't determined by what we own. "Ok, well I've spoken with the social worker. They're happy for you to leave. I'll be in contact tomorrow when I have a confirmed appointment with the judge." Danny says, returning to us. "Thanks Danny." Scarlett says, pulling him in to a hug.

Colin shakes his hand and then he turns his attention to me. "Remember what I said kid. I'm at the end of the phone if you need me." Danny says places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Thank you. For helping us. You saved a lot of kids today." I point out to him, but he shakes his head. "No Y/n. Your bravery saved those kids" He corrects, making my gaze drop. Maybe if I had talked to someone sooner, I could have stopped them having to go through the same pain.

Scarlett brings me from my thoughts and guides me towards their car. Colin puts my things in the trunk whilst Scarlett holds the door open for me. I climb in and see the child seat next to me. "Are the kids at home?" I ask, realising that I might be having to meet them this evening. "No, I've asked my mom to have them for a couple of days until we know more about the situation. I don't want to overwhelm you." She responds, as Colin pulls away.

It's quite a long drive as we go through the city to the Upper East Side. I don't think I've ever been to this part of the city. I mean I've never had a reason too. I've certainly never known anyone who is rich enough to live here. They pull into a private under ground garage of a big townhouse.

I follow behind Scarlett and Colin and they enter the house. "Please make yourself at home. We'll show you to your room and then give you a tour around the house." Scarlett smiles at me. She seems more relaxed now we're in her home. But I've gone the other way. This is somewhere new and alien to me and my nerves have picked up.

After two flights of stairs, we stop at a door. "This will be your room." Scarlett informs me pushing the door open. "It's pretty boring, but you're welcome to decorate it how you like. We can go shopping next weekend perhaps to get some more personal things and some new clothes." She starts to excitedly ramble until Colin places a hand on her shoulder and raises an eyebrow at her. "Sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself. If you decide you want to stay, that is something you may wish to do." She corrects herself, her shoulders deflating.

Colin has placed my things on the bed and Scarlett is showing me the ensuite. "Colin and I's room is upstairs with the nursery that Cosmo is in. Rose's room is opposite yours." Scarlett notifies me, pointing towards a door with the letter R on it. "Let's show you around so you can make yourself comfortable." Colin jumps in sensing my change in demeanour.

We spend the next half an hour going around the house. It's incredible. I've never been in anything like it. But what surprises me is how homely it all feels. I can tell that it's lived in and made for living in. It's not some statement home. That makes me feel slightly more comfortable at least. "How about we order in for dinner. Do you like Chinese?" Colin asks and I nod. "Yeah, I'll eat anything. You don't get to be picky in a care home." I reply with a chuckle, but they don't see the humour in it, their faces dropping.

"Can I shower?" I ask and they both nod quickly. "Of course, there are toiletries in the bathroom along with towels. But let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, I'll come and get you when food is here." Scarlett smiles. I thank them and head back upstairs to my room. That sounds strange. I take a moment and sit on the bed. Letting the events of today sink in.

When I look up, I catch a glimpse of my black eye. Scarlett and Danny were pretty shocked when they saw that. If only they had seen what else he had done to me. I push up off the bed and make my way into the bathroom and turn the shower on to get to temperature.

I then slip out of my clothes and observe the bruises to my body. He really didn't like that a lawyer saw him drunk. Each kick or punch had a specific reason behind it. He got a bit carried away when he struck me in the face. He normally keeps to the body to hide the evidence.

Not wanting to look at myself anymore, I slip into the shower, allowing the hot water to stream over my body. Hoping that it might wash away some of the trauma from today. But it doesn't. Instead, my thoughts grow. I feel like I'm intruding on their family. There are pictures all over this house of them as a happy family. They were fine without me. Why do they need me now? Scarlett could have waited two years and I'd be an adult and she needn't worry anymore.

My mind spirals as I wonder if Scarlett really wants me to be part of her life. I know she said she did, but she wouldn't be the first adult to lie to me. But then when I looked at her, she seemed genuine. I'm second guessing myself and I hate it. I can't take the loudness of the voices in my head, so I finish up and wrap myself in a towel. I'm shocked by the fluffiness of it. I never knew a towel could be comforting. I'm used to a coarse worn towel.

Once dry, I slip into my sweatpants and hoody, letting it engulf my body. Thankfully, most of my clothes are clean, not that I have a lot. It was something Mr Woodstock was sure we kept on top of. Not because he wanted us comfortable, but a smelly foster kid would bring unwanted attention.

I sit on the bed with my back against the headboard, taking my phone and calling the one person I need right now. Laura. I fill her in on everything that has happened and it's safe to say that she's shocked. Considering just a few days ago, she was excited about my mother being THE Black Widow. She now has a strong distrust for Scarlett and wants to make sure that I'm ok.

I've liked Laura for a while. She is the only person that can make me smile on my darkest day. She is so kind and caring and I love every minute that I spend with her. I don't know if she feels the same way, but I don't care. I'm just grateful to have her in my life.

I knew I liked girls from a young age. I talked to my mom about it, but she wasn't happy and told me that it was just a phase and that I wasn't allowed to like girls. It earned me a beating for admitting it. I tried so hard to like boys instead, but it didn't work. So, I just hid how I felt. It wasn't really a problem at the start as I didn't have any friends, let alone anyone I liked. But once Laura came into my life, that all changed. But that is something to deal with later. I don't think I could add on rejection to everything else that has been happening.

Whilst we're talking, there's a knock at the door. "Come in." I say and Scarlett's head pokes around the door. "Dinner is here sweetheart." She smiles. "Ok, I'll be right down." I say, and it's then she notices my phone in my hand. "No rush. Take your time." She says and closes the door behind her.

I finish up my call with Laura and she promises that she'll meet me at cuppa Joe's tomorrow morning so I can talk to her before we have to see the judge. I just hope that Scarlett will let me go.

I hang up the phone and slowly make my way downstairs, pulling at the sleeves of my hoody nervously when I see them sitting in the dining room, a place set up for me. "Hi Y/n. Come and help yourself." Colin greets me, standing up and pulling my chair out for me. "Thank you." I respond, looking over the food on the table. "We didn't know what you'd like so we got a few different things." He explains the reason for the vast amount of food on the table.

Whilst they tuck in, I just sit waiting. Not really sure how to act. "Y/n, like Colin said, please help yourself. Eat as much as you like." Scarlett tells me with a warm smile. I hesitantly reach out for the sweet and sour chicken. I put a little bit on my dish and then grab a pork rib. "You're welcome to have more. As much as you like." Scarlett encourages me when she sees that I stop with a small amount on my plate.

Knowing that I'm safe here, or rather praying that I am, I take a few more spoonful's of food to try the different dishes. I notice that both Scarlett and Colin smile at the act and then start to eat their own food.

It's a bit awkward as we eat. No one really knows what to say. I'm still overwhelmed by everything and not even sure if I'll be staying here for long. Do I want to stay here more than a few days? How ungrateful do I sound. Any one of the kids in that home would kill to be in a place like this and here I am wondering if I do.

"I spoke with Danny, and he managed to get us in with a judge tomorrow afternoon at 4pm. There is nothing to worry about. They're reviewing our foster request and might ask you some questions on if you want to stay with us or not." Scarlett starts to explain, and I'm actually grateful that she's being open about this. "Of course, you don't have to feel like you have to stay here. Both Colin and I would love that. But we understand if you'd rather go to an alternative foster home." She follows up, but I can see the pain in her eyes as she suggests that. "Ok, thank you." Is all I can say. My mind is conflicted and I'm sure it'll be keeping me up tonight, so I'll have plenty of time to think things through.

After we've finished eating, I sit back in the chair. "Thank you for dinner. It was lovely." I tell them with a genuine smile. "You're welcome sweetie. I'm glad that you liked it." Scarlett returns. She seems to naturally use terms of endearment for me when talking and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it. But if I'm honest with myself, it only makes me uneasy because I know deep down, I like it.

"Today has been a long day. Please don't feel like you have to stay up with us. You're more than welcome to head up to bed. But you're also welcome to join Colin and I in the living room. We'll probably just be watching some TV to unwind before bed." She informs me. I think for a moment, and I do feel tired. Although I know sleep won't come easily, I don't think I could cope with sitting with them at the moment.

"I think I'll head to bed and try and sleep if that's ok?" I ask and she nods. "Of course." She smiles. "Uh Scarlett?" I call her as I start to walk away from the table. "I uh. I was w-wondering. If I might uh. If I might be able to meet Laura at the café tomorrow morning?" I ask through a stutter. I have no idea how she's going to react to my request, and I can feel my palms getting sweaty.

"Oh Y/n. Please don't be nervous to ask anything like that. Of course, you can meet her. In fact, I can drop you off if you like? It would make me more comfortable to know you're safe, rather than you getting the subway." She responds and I let out a sigh of relief. "I uh. Thank you. That would be great." I respond. "No problem. Just let me know when you need to go." She tells me. I go to walk away again but stop as a question pops in my head. "Don't you have work tomorrow?" I ask her. She had mentioned that she is working on a project right now, which is why she was late on Friday.

"No. Colin and I have taken the week off so we can make sure you're settled." She replies and that seems to make me happy. No one's ever done anything like that for me before. "Ah ok. Right, well. I'm going to head to bed." I say, nodding my head towards the stairs. "Ok. Goodnight sweetheart." "Goodnight, Y/n." They both say at the same time.

I climb up the stairs and get changed into my pyjamas. I've never slept in a double bed before, and I feel a little lost in it. Though the duvet is so comfortable. I feel like I'm being engulfed in a good way.

I spend the night thinking through the pros and cons of staying with Scarlett. In the end, I decided that maybe it is best to stay. We can get to know each other whilst living together, right? I'm not sure that I could cope moving to another foster home and try to navigate a whole load of new people.

The only thought that is left niggling at the back of my mind is if things don't go well with Scarlett. What if I decide I don't want to stay, or she doesn't want me here? What if I don't fit into their family dynamic? Do I even want to be a part of that? Ok so I lied, I have more than one thought left niggling in my head. Besides, I may have no control if they're not approved for an emergency fostering certificate tomorrow.

By about 6am, I decide that I can't lie in bed anymore, as comfortable as it is, and TikTok is no longer able to entertain me. I decide that I'll change and head outside to the garden. It'll be nice to get some fresh air.

After brushing my teeth and finishing up the minimal parts to my morning routine, I move back into the bedroom to get dressed. I slip my top off and stand in the closet trying to figure what I want to wear to meet Laura later. My clothes look a little pathetic in this huge closet. I really don't have much to offer, but I decide on a loose band T and ripped jeans.

Before I have a chance to put the shirt on, I hear a gasp from behind me and a pair of cold hands on my side. I instantly flinch, cowering back into the closest away from the surprise touch.

Scarlett's POV:

It was strange having Y/n in the house. A good strange, but still strange none the less. The whole time we were with her, I could see her thoughts whizzing around her head at a million miles an hour. I wish I could do something to help reassure her that Colin and I are all in for this.

I know it's not ideal with her moving in with us like this. Don't get me wrong, I want nothing more than for her to be back with us. But I thought it would be after we built up a relationship after getting to know each other. Then on the other hand, I wouldn't want her anywhere else after what has happened to her.

Whilst Colin and I are watching TV, we discuss what we want to do over the next week, assuming we get to keep Y/n. We end up deciding on doing some simple things, not wanting to overwhelm her. From things like coffee shop visits or walks around the park. Time out of the house so we can talk, and I can learn more about what she likes. I'm desperate to learn more about what her interests are. I also can't wait to go and watch a soccer game of hers and meet Laura properly.

I have a feeling that she doesn't like me, and I can understand why. I'm glad that Y/n has someone that is so protective of her. It seems like she hasn't had many of those through her life, so I want to make a good impression on the one that has, and hopefully prove to her that I want the same.

I don't really sleep much. Even when I drift off, I dream of Y/n. Sometimes us living the perfect life together as a family. Other times it's nightmares where I just see her being hurt by her so-called parents and her foster carer. I give up and head downstairs to make some coffee.

Today is going to be a long and emotional day, so I'm sure this cup is not going to be the last of the morning. Whilst I'm cutting up some fruit for Y/n when she wakes, I hear the floorboards creek. I wonder if she's already awake. I'm sure she didn't have the easiest night herself.

I decide to go and check on her. I knock on the door but don't get a response. I try again, a little louder this time. Maybe I misheard earlier. So carefully, I open the door, just to check that she's ok and she hasn't run away in the night. But the sight that meets my eyes breaks my heart.

Before I can even control my actions, I'm rushing towards her, gasping as I see the extent of the bruising on her body. My hands touch her skin, and it causes her to violently flinch away from me. That breaks my heart that she instantly thinks a touch is to cause her pain.

"Y/n. Sweetheart. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I would never hurt you." I try to reassure her as her eyes dart around the room. "I knocked but you didn't answer. I assumed you were still asleep." I explain my sudden appearance, hoping she didn't think I was intruding on her privacy.

When I don't get a response, I kneel down in front of her, my eyes glancing at the bruises, but I try to focus on her eyes. "Hey, can you look at me. I'm so sorry." I tell her, gently reaching out and taking her hand. That touch gets her attention, and she finally looks at me. I can feel the tears building in my own eyes to see her in a state like this. "S-Sorry." She apologises and goes to stand up.

"You have nothing to apologise for Y/n. Here." I reassure her, holding the t-shirt that was on the floor out to her so she can put it on. I'm sure she's not comfortable being without a shirt on in front of me. She nods gratefully and slips it over her head. "Here, come and sit on the bed." I direct to her, taking a step back so I'm not encroaching on her personal space.

She pushes herself up and moves slowly to the bed, her head hanging low. I sit next to her, but ensure I put some distance between us. I don't want to make her uncomfortable. "Did he do that to you?" I ask her carefully but getting straight to the point.

I watch as she fiddles with her fingers, waiting for a response. I notice a couple of tears drop to her wrists and I just want to engulf her into a hug. Then she nods and it breaks my heart. I knew it was him that caused that, but having it confirmed by her hurts more than I can imagine. "Would you mind if I take a proper look to make sure you're ok? I noticed some cuts and I don't want them to get infected." I explain to her, and I see her body tense.

"I won't do anything to make you uncomfortable, I just need to know you're ok." I reiterate, trying to hide the pleading nature to it. "Ok." She agrees at a whisper. "O-ok." I respond, surprised that she agreed. "I'm going to grab the first aid kit and I'll be back." I tell her, resting my hand over hers and giving it a squeeze, hoping she gets some comfort from it.

Colin is awake as I rush into our bathroom and grab the first aid box. He notices my red eyes and worry washes over him. "I'm ok. It's Y/n. Uh, he hurt her more than we thought." I tell him, knowing that it's unfair to rush out on him without an explanation. "Oh Scar. Go. We can talk about this after." He sighs sympathetically, placing a kiss to my head.

I rush back to Y/n's room, but take a moment before going in. I don't want to scare her again. I knock and wait for her mumbled response before pushing the door open. She's still on the bed, but she looks up to me, her eyes puffy, probably matching my own. "Shall we go into the bathroom?" I suggest, watching as she stands up and moves into the ensuite.

"I know this is awkward, but I'll be as quick and as careful as I can." I comfort her. "Are you ok to take off your shirt?" I ask. She hesitates, but then her hands move to the hem of her shirt. She lifts it over her head, and I fight to stop more tears when I get a proper view of the damage done. "Does it hurt when you breathe?" I ask her first, wanting to determine if she might have broken ribs.

She shakes her head. "They're not broken. I've had that before and it doesn't hurt as much." She explains, avoiding any eye contact. That admission continues to break my heart. She never should have had to experience any of this, let alone enough to know the difference by pain level. "Ok, well I'm going to clean these few cuts first and then put some antiseptic on. They don't look deep enough for stitches, so I'll place some Band-Aids over them." I explain what I'm going to do before doing it so she's not taken by surprise.

I place the first aid kit on the counter and grab out what I need. I talk her through each thing that I'm using and what I'm doing. When she hisses in pain at the antiseptic, I apologise and give her a moment to adjust. "There, all done my sweet girl." I tell her as I finish applying the last of the arnica cream to her bruises. "Do you want some Advil or anything?" I ask her, making sure she knows that she doesn't need to suffer in pain. "Yes please." She replies quietly.

That takes me by surprise. She seems like she can be stubborn. Something she would have definitely gotten from me. I thought she would have tried to push through the pain. But I'm so glad that she's comfortable to admit she's in pain and wants to do something about it. I grab two pills and fill up the glass passing it to her. She quickly takes them, and I hand her, her shirt back. She puts it back over her head, her eyes finally meeting mine as her head pops out the top. "Thank you. And sorry for not telling you." She smiles at me.

"You're welcome. You don't need to apologise. I understand why you didn't. But please know that you can always come to me about stuff like this. I want to make sure that you're ok." I reply and she nods. "Do we have to talk about it?" She asks and I sigh. "I would like to, but I won't push you. Colin and I want what is best for you and knowing everything will help us do that to the best of our ability. But we won't ever push and make you uncomfortable. You come first." I express honestly and I can tell it takes her by surprise.

"How about I give you a moment. I'll get some pancakes on the go and we can talk over breakfast. It can be about this, or it can be about the weather. Whatever you're comfortable with." I suggest and I see her smile. "Ok, yeah. Thank you." She agrees. I smile in return and nod, fighting the urge to hug her. "Take your time. We'll be downstairs when you're ready." I tell her before leaving her to it.

When I reach my bedroom, I let out a small sob, the emotions overwhelming me. I'm so ashamed of myself. I could have prevented this if I put her before my career. I need to do everything in my power to make sure she spends the rest of her life happy. And I know part of that might mean letting her go if it's what she really wants. I won't be selfish this time. It's what she needs that is most important.

Part 3

[verdemoun]

i think the weird alternate timewarp reality where darragh somehow appeared to yell at sean and meet lenny and maeve was the best thing that has ever happened actually out of everything ever

okay for you hypothetical darragh was also timewarped

sean was on one of his now semi-regular combined father's day/anniversary of death trips to boston, to sit in a park and drink and remember his da with the quiet and privacy to mourn in his own way

has to stop for beer obvs and is just browsing the imported beer when he hears a proper thick olde irish accent very casually making a recommendation. freezes. darragh hasn't even realized. he's still browsing too until he hears that 'da?'

darragh is elated and also still so used to sean just throwing himself he still braces himself as his adult son throws himself at him, immediately bawling in relief and overwhelming emotions like that's his da. his da's alive and older and going grey but he's there he's physically fucking there

takes sean a solid 20 minutes to calm down enough to actually get words out they're just sitting on a bench in a mall sean uncomfortably close because he can't believe his da is actually there while darragh is classic stoic irish dad but he'll cry later guarantee

darragh is a smart man but was still lucky to timewarp at night after being shot in his bed so he kind of got the ease in of seeing the city come alive with the morning and realising 'well definitely not heaven not hell i definitely remember being fatally shot i am dead my son is not here (devastating) i need money'

he has a pretty basic 9-5 working in logistics stock delivery packaging sort of gig and a cozy apartment and sean loses his mind. actually thinks he's gone full delusional he's sitting in his dad's modern apartment with his dad making dirty instant coffee that tastes as burnt as it did in 1889 when he dared to try coffee and his dad is asking about his life, when he timewarped, what's happening and laughing about how quiet sean is being because 'once upon a time i would've given my right leg for you to be quiet for 2 minutes now i actually want to have a chat and you're silent'

sean spends so long pussy-footing around trying to suss out how his da would feel about the fact he's bi and in a happily committed relationship with a black man when he finally shows darragh a photo of lenny darragh just squints and points 'who is that' to maeve and considers backhanding him when sean goes 'oh yeah that's our daughter maeve'

the second a grandbaby is involved darragh is booking tickets back to blackwater with sean and everyone is insanely excited to meet darragh macguire who is still considered a folk hero in ireland and they have heard so many stories both true and untrue about and darragh absolutely dazzles them all

like if hosea was in the market that smooth smart talking aged like whiskey Irishman would need a restraining order. lenny and darragh strike up intellectual conversation as easy as breathing and darragh loves lenny he's pulling him into a bear hug and insisting lenny can call him da too. maeve sits on his shoulder the entire time just squealing gran-da is so strong and he adores her firecracker energy

sean gets his storytelling antics from his da and darragh of course being a former politician/activist has the most captivating way of telling stories. whole gang crowded around listening to darragh confirm or correct stories sean has told about his life - as well as the classic embarrassing stories from sean's childhood to lenny's delight and sean's horror

within two weeks darragh moves his entire life to blackwater so he can be part of his son and granddaughter's lives. he is first call to babysit maeve because as he loves reminding everyone she is simply as much of a terror as sean was at that age. he also insists on teaching her irish

as much as sean still struggles to sit still and maeve will never, ever have the ability to sit still, darragh still drags both maeve and sean to church every sunday because he can look past all sean's many many other errors in life but his son will be damned well going to church and they are getting that little girl baptised asap.

deadeye macguire was actually one of darragh's many nicknames. they discover time has in no way dulled darragh's actual skills as an outlaw he is a menace at paintball/laser tag and maeve would choose to he on gran-da's team over sean any day.

[eriexplosion]

REUNION! MY BOY IS COMING BACK HOME IN THE WORST WAY POSSIBLE!

It's the way that we start with Crosshair talking about his own squad and showing zero real interest in it, just the completely calm assessment that a scout team won't be enough to take them out. Later he's going to actually care that it's His Squad, right now he really does not. No reaction to orders to terminate them. Knowing how much Crosshair gives a shit in every other aspect despite trying SO HARD NOT TO, it just really stands out.

Wrecker's teaching skills.... TEN SECONDS TILL WE"RE BOTH GONERS. HONEY WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? What if we just do all our training by traumatizing the child forever with the possibility of imminent death. But he didn't let her train with a live explosive. He's not crazy!

"I failed my first disarming test too" great was that a smoke bomb or not because knowing the kaminoans and the state of your head I am considering that it was a live explosive.

I love their casual awareness that they're being watched, it's just very attractive when the batch is extremely competent.

"Wrecker says he has it under control" "That's not comforting" THANKS FOR THE VOTE OF CONFIDENCE TECH

This is one of my favorite shots of Echo I just think they look very attractive perched up there. Now on the question of HOW are they perched up there? We just don't know.

Echo still losing it over the mere concept of anything that might make them money because all of it is Crime.

Also I'm keeping a count on how long it takes for Tech's hair to spontaneously reappear, so far he still has his bald patch.

WRECKER CRAVES THE PROTON TORPEDO MORE THAN LIFE.

"Hunter, we're soldiers. What other path is there?" I feel like the ultimate conclusion for the show is going to be a mix of these two's extremes. Hunter wants a path that is fully out of the danger, away from all of it, and that's clearly not going to be allowed to happen. Echo wants a path that they understand, and the soldier's life is safe and comfortable to them. Ultimately, they don't need to just be soldiers, but they also can't just walk away from it all, no one can. The Empire doesn't only come for soldiers.

STILL CANNOT BELIEVE THEY GAVE US THIS SHOT.

"It's most likely a short circuit" right before several ships fly overhead. It is DEFINITELY NOT A SHORT CIRCUIT.

Hunter basically saying 'Tech you know Crosshair's too stubborn to be put off by a blocked scanner'

GOD I AM ALL CAUGHT UP ON THIS ACTUALLY. It's Crosshair, it's his stubbornness, it's his ruthless battle tactics, it's his knowledge, he just doesn't Care about anything but the mission and his orders, when those were always down near the bottom of his priority list before. Now they're all that registers. It's all the things that make him dangerous and none of the things that make him belong with them.

Stop throwing your goddamn toothpicks you filthy littering bitch (affectionate)

Crosshair knowing they'd cut into the comms so he redirected them away from the hangar by saying to push them to the hangar... GENUINELY CHIPPED CROSSHAIR REMAINS THE MOST TERRIFYING THING IN THE SHOW. Cannot outsmart him he knows all the Moves. No wonder they couldn't keep him chipped outside of this, he'd have won eventually if he was still trying this hard.

"Why come after us" honey he doesn't have an OPTION. Hunter and Omega trying to talk him down is sweet but absolutely useless. But then, what other options do they have? The thing is even if they stunned him here, what then, the place is crawling with Imperials and it was the only place they had to remove their chips. If they HADN'T been found here, maybe things would have been different but...

Also I was right, Crosshair didn't learn about the chips until episode eight and it was just Hunter and Omega telling him they existed. Nothing about how they worked, nothing about how powerful they are, and he has no reason to believe them right off. And with only finding out MAYBE half an hour before it gets annihilated with radiation, of course he doesn't believe them. He doesn't really have a reference point to notice he's being controlled on any level.

Still amazed at the sheer coldness of 'aim for the kid though' like Brutal

I think this guy here might be Omega's first kill? She uses her bow several times in Decommissioned, but all of those were droids. I wonder if she's really realized the weight of that yet. Also that her first kill was another clone, which, Ow.

All of that and she's still so small that Tech has to help her jump off a step.

WRECKER I CARE ABOUT TECH'S ION ENGINE INFODUMP DON'T INTERRUPT HIM.

Tech nearly getting sniped here - I stand by my headcanon that the reason Crosshair misses them so often in particular is because the chip has major control but sniping requires SUCH PRECISION that the tiny little muscle twitches that might sneak through, small enough that they wouldn't change anything for any other weapon, are enough to throw his aim off.

TRY AGAIN HUNTER babe I don't know that he can hear you.

"Crosshair wouldn't do that, would he" Omega I cannot emphasize enough that it does not MATTER what Crosshair would do just like it didn't matter what WRECKER would do last episode.

I do really want to know what Plan 7 is

The ion engine coming on and the ring of explosions looks SO good, that's some good fucking animation.

And CROSSHAIR RUNS TOWARDS IT LIKE WHATTTT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING TO DO HERE?

I mean at least blasting him with radiation will take out the chip but goddamn. The burn scar is SO MUCH and then he fucking falls on that side of his face.

Do you think that the smell of his own flesh burning reminded him at all of the civilians he had killed?

Sorry I'm normal again, Crosshair carries the dark thoughts with him like a cloud.

The reveal of all the dead clones around their ship is so good for Bane's reveal. And this is still so much better having watched TCW because the first time I watched I LITERALLY HAD NO IDEA WHO THE HELL THIS WAS.

The way that he just drops Hunter and the music completely cuts out and then gets really fucking intense no wonder a few people thought for a hot second that they killed Hunter off just like that.

This is also why you can't take the musical cues for if a death is real or not because they WILL go intense whether they're dead or alive if the moment calls for it.

"Get me on the shuttle" what the fuck did the radiation do to the chip that it turned Crosshair completely feral for a hot second because he is barely breathing and he's like I AM GOING TO COMMIT MURDER RIGHT NOW.

GOD I LOVE THE POV SHOT FROM HUNTER'S HELMET. The way they do this with Omega too later (and honestly it would be amazing setup for doing the same thing with Tech's goggle recordings come on it is RIGHT THERE)

[gvfgal]

Bound- Chapter Eight

Chapter Seven

This story is 18+, so minors take a hike!!!

A/n: Here she is, chapter eight! Lots of dialogue here, sorry if it drags but it’s all verryyyyy important to the plot of the story! Enjoy dolls <3

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, that is all!

Word Count: 4.3k

You were staring at Jake.

Jake was staring at you.

Josh was staring at both of you.

Finally, Jake’s feet began moving towards you, prompting you to move forward as well.

With every step you took, you considered if this was all a big mistake, and briefly, your mind flashed to August, but as soon as you were standing directly in front of him, you knew there was no turning back. Those alluring brown eyes had you back under their spell in a matter of seconds.

They were scanning your face currently, as if they were trying to take in every minor detail it had to offer and commit them to memory. You stood there silently and allowed him to do so, attempting to calm your erratic breathing.

“Hi,” he finally drew out in that southern laced accent, but his voice was more timid than you’d ever heard it before. It had your heart trying to tear out of your chest and comfort him.

“Hi.”

“You came.”

“I did.”

You crossed your arms and glanced over his shoulder, “hi Josh.”

Josh offered you a smile that wasn’t quite believable, “good to see you, y/n.”

Sam and Danny came laughing around the corner, and when you turned to face them, they both froze.

“Am I seeing things,” Sam was whispering to Danny, “or is she really here right now?”

All Danny could do was gawk at you.

“Samuel, Daniel,” Josh called out as he brushed past you and Jake and over to where the confused duo were standing, “why don’t we give these two some privacy?”

He was escorting them away before they even had a chance to respond, and their eyes stayed fixed on you until you were finally out of sight.

You turned back to Jake, smiling at him warmly, “you were great out there. You looked like a real rockstar.”

The corner of his mouth turned upward slightly, and his shoulders relaxed just an inch, “you saw me?”

You nodded, “I missed the first half cause my flight was delayed, but what I did see was amazing.”

This made his stomach turn, but in a good way for once.

I played for you, just like I always have, he wanted to say. But his next words were a lot less poetic.

“Do you wanna see my house?”

You chuckled a bit at his abruptness, eyes wide, realizing just how nervous he really was.

“I’d love to. My luggage is in your dressing room.”

He sent you a curt nod, then turned to walk down the hallway without another word.

You didn’t move at first, and when he noticed you weren’t following him, he stopped and swiveled back around.

For the first time since seeing him again, Jake actually smiled. A real, genuine smile.

“You comin’ or what?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You waited respectfully outside of Jake’s dressing room while he changed, and about 15 minutes later, he returned in a simple back t shirt and jeans, rolling your suitcase behind him, and carrying a bag of his own.

“You ready?”

I’ve never been more ready in my life.

“Yeah.”

Three towering security guards approached with his brothers in tow. You took notice of the way Josh was eyeing you cautiously, careful not to make any direct eye contact. Sam was still looking at you like you were an apparition, and Danny couldn’t decide where exactly he wanted to look.

Well this sure is awkward. You were starting to believe that the three of them were privy to something you weren’t, and you’d interrogate them about it if you could, but surely now wasn’t the time.

Jake ignored them, looking you in the eyes to make sure he had your attention, “when those doors open, Frank is gonna walk you to my truck,” he pointed at one of the men.

“I’m gonna hang back for a bit, sign some autographs, then we’ll head out. That sound like a plan?”

It was beginning to set in that this Jake standing before you wasn’t just some small town heart throb anymore. He was a real celebrity. With fans, and a successful high profile career. The sweet sounds of his guitar weren’t just the soundtrack of your memories anymore, they were the sounds that filled arenas all over the country.

All over the world.

“Sounds like a plan,” you agreed.

Once the doors were open, the man you now knew as Frank began ushering you in the opposite direction of the rambunctious crowd that was waiting on the other side.

You were walking so fast that you didn’t have a chance to look back, but you could hear the screams of fans as the boys approached them.

The sound became more and more distant until you were standing before Jake’s same old midnight blue Ford.

You smiled. Some things never change.

Frank opened the door for you to climb in, and your nostrils were immediately filled with the familiar scent of the Jake you used to crave so much.

“I’ll wait around till Jake gets over here,” he bellowed out, shutting the door behind you then proceeding to stand guard several feet away from the truck.

You ran your hands along the leather seats, noticing they were a lot more worn than you remembered them. You wondered what those seats had seen in the last five years that you hadn’t.

You pulled down the overhead mirror to inspect your appearance when a small Polaroid photo fell into your lap.

When you flipped it over to inspect it, you felt your heart swell.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

June 25th, 1972

Townsend, Tennessee

Josh had his brand new Polaroid camera pointed at you and Jake as the two of you posed on the bank of the creek.

Jake was sitting crisscrossed, and you were kneeling behind him with your arms thrown over his shoulders.

“Okay love birds, say cheese. One more time.”

“Josh, no more damn pictures please,” Jake groaned, “I’m too drunk for this.”

“Oh come on baby, just one more,” you begged, smothering his cheek in kisses.

Jake began laughing, and Josh seized the opportunity to snap the picture then, capturing that all too perfect moment in time forever.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You smiled down at the picture, recalling that moment as if it just happened yesterday.

The driver’s side door flung open, and you jumped, dropping the picture onto the seat next to you.

Jake eyed the photograph, then his eyes found yours again with an unreadable expression. There was something he wanted to say, you knew it, but instead, he tossed his bag on top of it, then moved to put your suitcase in the back.

You decided it was best to leave it where it was.

He was back in the truck moments later, not speaking a word as he buckled his seatbelt.

“I wasn’t snooping,” you blurted out, feeling awkward in his silence.

Jake smirked at you, then retrieved the photo from under his bag, reaching across your lap to open the glove compartment. His arm brushed across your leg as he did so, and the sensation of his touch sent shockwaves through your entire body.

It was a simple touch, more than likely not even intentional, but after five long years without it, the feeling was enough to send your head spinning.

He tossed the picture in and closed it back, shutting the overhead mirror as well, still wearing his smirk. You were sure he noticed your sudden nervousness from his touch.

Little did you know, he was feeling the same way.

He turned his key in the ignition, and his truck roared to life, “let’s get out of here.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The ride to his house was completely quiet, even the radio was shut off. All that could be heard was the tires on the road as Jake drove down a long winding road with very few buildings. It was dark out, but by the light of the moon, you could see the outline of the snow capped mountains growing larger and larger as he drove towards them.

He would turn to look at you every once in awhile, his brain still not being able to comprehend the fact that you were really there with him. He wanted to reach out and touch you, just to confirm it as true, but he knew better than to do so, so soon. His knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel to fight the urge.

Several minutes passed before you guys were completely away from the rest of civilization, and just as you began to grow uneasy, at the top of a hill sat the most beautiful house you’d ever seen. It was huge, to say the least. Not in height, but in the way it spread across the land like some Italian Villa. The lights scattered out front shone on it light spotlights, and your jaw fell open. It was in log cabin fashion, but it’s sheer size made it look like an entire lodge.

So he’s pretty fucking rich, too.

Jake showed no signs of amusement as he pulled into the driveway, if anything, he looked afraid. His engine idled and he turned to face you, “so… this is where I live.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You we’re walking around his house as if you were in a museum, mouth still slightly agape as you took in the grandness of it all; high ceilings, a sunken living room, and at least a dozen guitars hanging on a large wall, that must’ve cost thousands upon thousands of dollars together.

There was no mistaking that this house belonged to some famous rockstar, but in a strange way, it still felt so Jake.

He was stood at the front door watching you marvel at the architecture, pure adornment in his eyes. To him, it looked like you belonged there, like it was exactly where you were meant to be all this time. His house never felt much like a home until that moment.

“You like it?” he asked you, grinning slightly as you whipped around to look at him, a similar expression of your own at play.

“Jake I think this is the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen. It fits you so well.”

He was further into the house now, but he left your suitcase sitting by the front door, not wanting to give off the impression that you had to stay with him, though he wanted that more than anything. Even down the hall in the guest room would be fine, just to know you were near.

But he pushed down all of those thoughts by clearing his throat, “yeah, well, I can’t take too much credit for it, I only helped design about 30 percent of it. The rest I was…” his scentence came to a stop. He was about to say he was too drunk to oversee the majority of its completion, but he knew that was better left unsaid. You were watching him with right curious eyes, waiting for him to continue.

“You wanna see the backyard?”

His change of subject didn’t go unnoticed by you, but rather than giving him a hard time, you nodded, “love to.”

He jerked his head towards the large glass windows that lined the entire back wall, “go take a look, I’ll make us some drinks.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You hadn’t been able to peel your eyes for the scenery before you for a full five minutes. The term backyard was a drastic understatement for what Jake’s house possessed. His property wasn’t fenced, leaving a vast, and surprisingly still green, field that ended just at the end of his terrace and stretched all the way to the mountains that slept in the distance.

“View is a lot better in the mornin’,” Jake remarked as he stood at the threshold of the back door. You turned to look at him, and he was holding two drinks in his hand, leaning casually against the door, but the nervous tapping of his foot led you to believe anything but. You smiled to relieve some of his nerves, “I honestly can’t imagine it getting any better than this.”

Jake sat the drinks down between two patio chairs, along the edge of a fire pit that was prepped and ready to be ignited. He lit the flame with a match, tossing it into the pit, then returned inside to get a throw blanket that you requested, finally settling beside you in his chair.

It was silent at first, not quite a comfortable silence, but not a spirit stirring one either. Just silent. The buzz of late night insects hummed around you as you took a sip from your glass. Jake’s eyes were trained on the mountain, sphnyx stoic as he watched, and it briefly took you back to that night at the creek, the night your world came crashing down around you.

“So look,” his voice finally broke through the silence, and you immediately caught his gaze, too eager to hear what words were going to spill. He looked sympathetic, “before we move any further from this point, I want, no I need, to apologize to you. I know what you said in Nashville, that it was too late for apologies,” his eyes were pained now as they bore into yours, “but y/n, for everything I did to you, everything I put you though, I’m so, so sorry.”

You casted your eyes down to the pit, examining the way the orange flames dance fiercely. The knot in your throat was making it difficult to breathe, and it took all your power to push it back into your stomach where it was a lot less noticeable. Jake was still watching you, awaiting your answer, that nervous tap of his foot returning ten fold.

“Why did you do it, Jake?” Your voice was hushed, and you returned you eyes to his, searching for some sort of understanding, “why did you lie? I never… asked you for much, just your honesty,” you were shaking your head, “so why lie to me?”

Jake let outa rough sigh that sent the flames flickering faster, he ran a had through his tasseled hair, then leaned forward onto his knees.

“I know, this is going to sound crazy, but all of that stuff I said to you at the beginning of that summer, about not wanting to let you go again, it was all true… every last word.” He leaned in your direction more as he continued, “whether we know it or not, darlin’, we waited our whole lives to love each other in that way, and that summer was our last chance to do it. But I knew that if you knew I was leaving at the end of the summer, you wouldn’t have been as willing as I was to take that dive.”

You could feel your hands beginning to tremble from his revelation, and all the time you two spent together began playing on replay across your brain like a projector, but Jake wasn’t finished.

“It wasn’t my plan to keep it from you that long, I wanted to tell you,” his voice was growing more concerned, “but when I had you, y/n… God when I finally had you, I was scared that if I did tell you, I’d risk losing you. And with the way I fell in love with you, I knew I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. But I still ended up losing you in the end, and I’ve been paying for it every day for the last five years.”

A sprout of understanding began to grow deep in your stomach as you turned everything over in your head. What Jake did was wrong, yes, but now hearing his explanation, in a strange way, you got it. You even pondered the idea of being in his shoes, wondering if maybe you’d do the same thing.

“I realize, now, how wrong and… backwards it all was,” he continued, “I was deceptive, and I shouldn’t have taken that choice away from you, it wasn’t mine to make.”

His eyes, which had resorted to bouncing off of different surrounding objects, found yours again, “do you think you could ever find it in your heart to forgive me for that?”

There was no mistaking his sincerity, it was laced heavily in his voice, it marred the once usual calmness on his face and left his brows furrowed tightly upon his forehead. He seemed nervous, as if he thought there was a chance you wouldn’t forgive him, but you wouldn’t have traveled all this way if you felt any other way.

You offered him a sympathetic half-smile, it was a small gesture, but for Jake it meant so much.

“I forgave you a long time ago, Jake,” he perked up in his chair, “and I can admit that I played a part in what happened between us. I shouldn’t have walked away from you like that,” you shook your head, your shame written all over your face, “I should’ve given you a chance to explain, but I was just so hurt.”

His eyes closed as he nodded in understanding.

“And I knew regardless if I forgave you or not, you were still leaving,” you shook your head and scoffed. This was your first time ever admitting this out loud, and it sounded so foolish, “ so I don’t know,” you sighed, “I guess I just thought it’d be easier to make you the villain in my life so that you leavin’ me behind hurt a lot less.”

It sounded foolish, but it made all the sense in the world to Jake.

He pondered the idea of being in your shoes, wondering if he’d do the same thing.

His smile was as soft as his voice, “it’s okay. I get it. Really, I do.”

You eyed him with mock suspicion over the brim of your glass, “you’re different, you know that?”

Jake chuckled, then took a sip of his own drink, “different how?”

With all your might, you tried to find words to explain what you meant. They were all right on the tip of your tongue, but none of them could be produced.

“I don’t know. It’s like you’re the same old Jake, but there’s still something… different.”

He shrugged, “well I guess if you lived a life like I’ve lived over the past five years, you’d be pretty different too.”

You were interested now. There was a hint of something in his tone that led you to believe there was a double meaning to his words, and you were desperately hoping that he’d indulge you, fill you in on all the pieces of his life that you missed out on, hoping to gain some understanding on who exactly you were dealing with now.

“And what kind of life has that been?”

He gave you a small grin before sitting back in his chair and telling you the tales of his last five years. He told you of all of his travels with his brother, around the US and abroad. He highlighted some of their best shows, and some of his favorite moments he experienced while on the road. Most of his stories were vague, and you figured it was due to the fact that, experiencing so much over such a long span of time, memories probably got blurry.

And yes, the majority of his memories were blurry, but for a different reason entirely. The holes in his recollections weren’t from a busy life of stardom, but rather from long nights of endless drinking that left most of his days hollow and foggy. He purposely left out other details fo that reason.

Once he was finished, it was time for you to catch him up on the adventures that you experienced while on the road. Tales of rally’s and protests, late night shroom trips under the moon, and you even told him about your meeting of August. He was all smiles the entire time, enjoying hearing about you blossoming into the woman he always knew you’d become. But there was a twinge of sadness looming as you spoke, he wished that he was able to experience those years of your life with you. He would have given up all his fame and fortune to do so, no question about it. But alas, your story just wasn’t written that way.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Jake questioned once the conversation died down.

“Sure.”

“What do you see when you look at me?”

You didn’t quite understand his question, and you head cocked to the side in confusion.

“That night you left,” he clarified, “you said that every time you looked at me you’d see a liar, a selfish man,” his thumb was tracing the brim of his drink as he started down into the fire, the flames giving you enough light to see the sorrow in his expression, “do you still see that?”

And there was that damn guilt again. You’d become so familiar with it over the past several weeks that it no longer surprised you when it surfaced, but you still didn’t like the way it made your stomach sour.

You could tell by the uneasiness in his movements that those words stuck with him in an ugly way all those years, and you wished in that moment that you could take them all back.

“No Jake, I don’t,” you reassured him, and he relaxed slightly, eyes finding yours momentarily before casting back to the flames, “but I also don’t like what I see now.”

Jake frowned in concern, “wh- what do you see?”

“I see a lot of hurt… pain,” you were staring directly at each other now, “…regret.”

He wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. Those three emotions took turns dominating his life, and he almost felt ashamed that he hadn’t done a better job at hiding it from you.

Once again, he casted his sights away from you, cowering in his metaphorical corner as he always did when it came to you.

“But it's funny,” you chortled, “because even through all of it, I still see so much love in you Jake. Maybe even more than there was five years ago.”

This was true, Jake felt like he loved you more now than he did back then, which he thought was strange. But he quickly realized that when you love someone that much, it never really goes away.

It only multiplies.

“Can I ask you something else?”

You nodded.

“It sounds like you’ve lived a beautiful life so far, and it makes me happy to see you so happy,” you blushed at the sentiment, “but do you ever wish things were different?”

You contemplated his question, “well, I’d be lying if I said no. Honestly I’ve spent more time than I’d like to admit thinking about it, wondering where we’d be now if we hadn’t gone our separate ways,” your shoulders shrugged involuntarily, “but maybe things were supposed to happen this way.”

Jake was smiling when you looked at him again.

“I get it,” he replied, slouching down into his chair as his smile grew mischievous, “but you still came to me… that’s gotta count for somethin’, right?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, deciding it was better that you didn’t answer that question, though you both knew it wasn’t necessary. You wrapped the blanket tighter around your body as a cool breeze blew by, but Jake’s heart was radiating so much heat inside of his body that the nippy air didn’t phase him.

“Can you do something for me, Jake?”

He leaned into you, ready to grant you whatever wish you were expecting.

“Anything.”

You nodded over to the acoustic guitar that was perched on its stand, the same acoustic guitar he’s always had, “will you play for me?”

Jake smirked, his eyes never leaving your frame as he reached down to grab the instrument, situating it in his lap before strumming a few random chords.

“Any requests?”

You smiled at him, “surprise me.”

He took a moment to rack his brain, before he began strumming a beautiful familiar tune that transported you back in time five years.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

August 4th, 1972

Townsend, Tennessee

It was a long day spent at the creek with Jake and his brothers. The dog day sun, along with the exertion of your body in the water left you completely drained, and you had resorted to laying in the back of Jake’s truck. He was beside you, as he was always meant to be, strumming on his guitar as he worked to learn a new song.

You weren’t familiar with the tune, but the way Jake played it, even if it was choppy, sounded beautiful.

“What song is that?” You asked as you turned to look at him.

“Tupelo Honey, Van Morrison,” he responded without looking up from his guitar.

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he was so focused, intent on perfecting the song. His brows were furrowed tightly, lips puckered off to the side, his usual concentrating face that you couldn’t get enough of.

“I like it, sounds pretty.”

He stopped playing to look down at you, the setting sun casting a halo around your body. He’d never get enough of seeing you this way.

“It’ll sound a whole lot better once I’ve got it down.”

You placed a lingering kiss on his lips, one that left electricity humming through both of you.

“Well promise me I’ll get my own personal show when you do.”

He kissed you one more time, “anything for you, babydoll.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You never did get that private show; that was until now. And truthfully, you were grateful that it took this long, because this moment was perfect.

Closing your eyes, you allowed the sounds of his guitar and the crackling of the fire to settle your spirit, and you began growing more and more relaxed by the second.

He played several more songs after that one, each of them like a lullaby, and before you knew it, you had fallen into a deep, comfortable slumber.

It was the best sleep you’ve gotten in years.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Chapter Nine

Taglist: @jakesgrapejuice

[stardxxstbae]

WITH ARMS WIDE OPEN ✦ cl16

CHAPTER 3: ANXIÉTÉ

Hey! Sorry for the wait I was a little busy but here's chapter three. Let me know what you think about this one! I will try to bring the next chapters before I go back to college (the spanish version is updated until chapter eight on wattpad so there's plenty of content) Anyways if you want more content of this story you should follow me on ig (@star.dxxst) I post a lot about this. Hope you guys are doing great!

Previous: chapter 2

Her gaze darted from side to side. She knew she shouldn't be so nervous, but she couldn't help it. She had already mistaken two guys, thinking they were Charles. They had spent an hour in the park, and yet Amélie couldn't calm down.

"So, we'll pretend that Esteban is Eliane's dad?" Arthur asked while swinging the baby in his arms.

"Only if it's necessary, and by necessary, I mean if we run into Charles," she said firmly.

Both boys nodded gently, believing that it wouldn't work, but Arthur knew his brother was quite absent-minded when it came to those things, so it would probably be easy to make him believe the Esteban story.

"Why didn't you choose someone more handsome?" Arthur asked, earning a laugh from Matteo.

"Esteban isn't ugly," Amélie defended her friend, and they both looked at her with a questioning gaze. She immediately rolled her eyes. "Before you say anything, no, I'm not dating Esteban."

Arthur let out a sigh of relief, and the blonde frowned at him, to which he simply shrugged. The younger brother still hoped that his brother and Amélie could rekindle their relationship.He knew better than anyone how much Charles had suffered, and of course, he also knew how much Amélie had suffered. He had heard them both cry at night, and he had comforted them through their nightmares.

"Ticky hands," Eliane said, reaching out her hands towards Arthur as he moved back. "ThurThur look."

"I see them," he said, laughing.

But Eliane didn't seem amused. She loved eating sweets but disliked having sticky hands. The sensation was unpleasant, and when she was younger, she used to cry when that happened.

"Mummy..."

"Let me find the wet wipes," she said, opening her bag.

When she found them, the girl climbed down from her uncle's lap and ran to her mother, stretching out her hands, which her mother cleaned meticulously.

"tenk," she said.

"You're welcome," her mother replied.

Then Eliane decided it was a good idea to play with her uncle Matteo, and they started chasing each other, giving Arthur the opportunity to approach Amélie.

"Do you plan on telling Charles someday?" he asked seriously. Amélie pressed her lips together in a thin line and let out a heavy sigh. "Do you miss him? Have you considered going back to him?"

"Of course I miss him, every day of my life," she responded with a sad smile. "But everything is even more difficult now than it was before. He must already have plans that don't include me, let alone a baby."

"He has always dreamed of your return, Ames," he replied. "Believe me, I don't think he would mind much if you have a daughter, if you're married... He will always find a way to include you in his plans."

A smile filled with nostalgia appeared on Amélie's lips. She liked to imagine that one day she would magically reunite with Charles and everything would be as it once was. But she knew there was a possibility that Charles would hate her for hiding such a secret from him.

"Eliane, no!" Matteo ran after the girl, trying not to lose sight of her. "She's going after the cat!"

Amélie rolled her eyes. Eliane loved animals, especially cats, so it was difficult for her to give up chasing after it. The blonde woman began running after them. However, the park was as tangled as a maze, and within seconds, Eliane had disappeared from her sight among the bushes.

She called out to her calmly the first three times, but by the fourth, her heart was pounding heavily in her chest, and by the tenth, she felt her head spinning and heard a ringing in her ears. She hoped she wouldn't faint before finding her daughter.

When she felt she couldn't bear the desperation any longer, she spotted Eliane's brown overalls. Eliane was with a man whom Amélie didn't even look at because finding her daughter was more important in that moment.

"Eliane!" she shouted as she ran to snatch her from his arms.

He began speaking, but Amélie couldn't hear the first few words clearly.

"Don't worry, she's fine. I stopped her in time..."

"You have no idea how grateful I am..."

Finally, she lifted her gaze, and everything blurred around her. Her heart, which had been starting to slow down, began racing again. Her body trembled, and it felt as if she had jumped off the tallest building in the world.

It was him, it was Charles. Her Charles.

She whispered his name because she didn't know what else to say. He wasn't supposed to be there, so close to Eliane, so close to her.

"Mon petit lune..."

Matteo, who was running behind his sister and niece, came to an abrupt halt upon witnessing the scene. Nervousness coursed through his body because Arthur was there, and there was no way they could explain to Charles why they were out with him.

So, for the youngest Dupont sibling, the simplest solution was to literally tackle Arthur to prevent him from approaching them. He also made sure to cover Arthur's mouth.

"Hey, you idiot!" he complained as he struggled in Matteo's grasp.

"Look, look!" Matteo whispered, pointing towards where their siblings were.

"Oh no..."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Her heart had shattered into a thousand pieces when Matteo came to take the child away, and Amélie had been too worried that he would take her. She had given Matteo a thousand and one instructions to make sure he wouldn't let her escape again, and she had leaned down to plant a kiss on the child's forehead, when the girl called her "mom."

«So this is what Max and Pierre didn't want me to see,» he thought for a moment, then silently thanked them because Charles probably wouldn't have been able to handle seeing something like that on the news. The outcome would have been catastrophic, and although the current situation wasn't much better, at least he had Amélie in front of him to clarify all his doubts.

And Charles truly had doubts. Thousands of questions swirled in his mind, preventing him from thinking clearly. He wanted to know every detail, he wanted her to say something. And despite his desire to resolve his doubts, what he wanted most was to embrace her, to have her in his arms again. But he couldn't, because he didn't know how she would react, and the rejection would break his heart even more.

"So, is she yours? " he asked after they had exchanged the most trivial of greetings.

Amélie swallowed heavily, her breathing grew labored, and she forced herself to remain calm, recalling the script she had rehearsed in her mind. She nodded gently, and Charles sighed.

Anxiety grew within his chest, and the questions piled up impressively. Charles didn't know much about children's ages or how they were supposed to look, but that child was probably around two years old... Or a little older, or a little younger. That amount of time lingered in his mind for a while.

Maybe...

"She's beautiful," he murmured, smiling, and Amélie looked at him sadly before nodding once again. "How old is she?"

"She'll be turning two in July," she whispered.

"Oh..."

For a moment, Charles thought that maybe...

It was a foolish thought, but no one could judge him. It was the love of his life. Everyone takes their thoughts to the extreme when it comes to the love of their life, and Charles was no exception.

That option was discarded as quickly as it had appeared.

"And the father?" he couldn't contain himself. He wanted it to be certain. If he had to have his hopes shattered, he wanted her to do it.

"Charles, what's with all the questions?" she asked, fixing her hair, suddenly feeling trapped.

Amélie never truly believed she would have to face this. She never knew how it would be because in her mind, it was impossible and would never happen. So, in reality, she wasn't prepared, despite having a story.

She wasn't prepared to say everything she knew she had to say under Charles' watchful gaze, under those attentive green eyes that were probably welling up with tears. Amélie wasn't prepared for the pain she felt in her chest because she hated seeing Charles with that look of suffering, because she wanted to throw away her stupid lie and tell him the whole truth. But then she remembered how happy she had seen him winning those races, the excitement it brought to everyone when the Ferrari was among the leaders...

"To be a world champion with Ferrari," Charles had replied to Amélie during their early dates when she asked about his greatest dream.

And he was about to achieve it. He had to achieve it.

"Well... I'm very curious. I want to know who the lucky guy is," he said, his voice breaking a little as he spoke.

Amélie furrowed her brow. The rumors were all over the tabloids. Hadn't he seen anything? Maybe he already knew, maybe he just wanted to hear her say it because the press was never reliable, and he wanted to know if it was true.

"Esteban," she said as quickly as she could, fearing her own cowardice.

Charles' heart stopped for a second. He didn't want it to be true. He didn't want it to be that Esteban. How could it be him? They were supposed to be friends.

"Esteban Ocon? That Esteban?" The soft nod from Amélie shattered his heart even more.

She realized the situation and suddenly remembered the terms she had agreed upon with her friend, so she hurried to speak.

"But we're not together," she clarified, and the way Charles' eyes lit up again made her smile softly. "It's a long story."

"Is he taking responsibility?" he asked with a tone that Amélie couldn't interpret.

"Yes... We're just not together," she repeated. "But we're okay with each other. There are no hard feelings. Things just didn't work out."

Charles nodded, understanding the situation. He would be lying again if he said he didn't feel a sense of relief that they weren't together. If someone could hear his thoughts, they would probably call him a selfish bastard because, of course, the child had the right to have her father present. But Charles was truly glad that wasn't the case.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, trying to sound sincere.

They remained silent for a moment, neither of them knowing exactly what to say or do. As the seconds passed, Charles realized the reality of the situation. The love of his life was standing in front of him, and he had just found out that she had a child with someone who wasn't him. It was a fact then that she had moved on with her life, and while things may not have worked out with Esteban, they must have been in love at some point, and the mere thought twisted his stomach.

Amélie could sense that he was deep in thought. She knew every one of his gestures, and the atmosphere was tense, suffocating her.

"Charles, I know this is difficult to process, considering everything we went through," she whispered. "Maybe at some point, if you're willing, we can sit down and talk about all of this..."

"Yeah... we could do that," he replied.

"Charles?"

She had noticed his distant gaze, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, and the trembling of his hands.

Amélie recognized an anxiety attack when she saw one, but she had never seen Charles have one before, and she didn't know how to help him.

"I mean... Yes, we can talk, but... Is it hot?" he said as he paced back and forth. "I... I don't know..."

"Come, sit down," she tried to reach for his arm, but Charles pulled away abruptly.

"No! I don't want... you to touch me," he muttered, and Amélie felt her heart break a little, but she nodded gently. The driver slumped onto a bench and covered his face with both hands.

His entire body trembled, and his thoughts were incoherent. He felt overwhelmed, on the verge of exploding, and he didn't want her to see him like this. Because he felt betrayed and wanted answers. He wanted her to tell him why she hadn't come back. She had promised to return, and she hadn't, and now that she did, she came with a child and a life already built. Had she been happy all that time while he had to suffer? It didn't seem fair to him.

"Charles, tell me what to do, please," she whispered with a broken voice. "It hurts to see you like this. Tell me how to help you."

"Just call Max," he said, taking his phone out of his pocket and handing it to her.

"Max? Isn't it better if I call Arthur?"

"Amélie, please, just call Max."

"Alright..."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

He slowly opened his eyes, expecting the glaring light to hit them, but it didn't. He sat up on the bed and realized he wasn't in his room. A moment of panic gripped his body, but it faded when the door opened, and he saw Max entering.

"About time, Sleeping Beauty," Max said, entering with a glass of water and a couple of pills.

"What am I doing here?"

"Same question I'm asking myself," Max shrugged. "They called me to come pick you up from the park."

Then Charles remembered everything that had happened, and his head spun. He thought he had overcome the uncontrollable anxiety, but apparently, he hadn't fully. He recalled Amélie's face, and his heart throbbed painfully. He shook his head, not wanting to think about it at that moment.

"I'm sorry," Charles apologized to Max. "I didn't mean to bother you."

"No problem, but why me?" Max asked.

"I didn't want to see pitying faces," he shrugged, and Max chuckled. "I know you won't do that."

"No, but give me a moment," Max handed him what he was holding. "Take these pills and rest a bit before getting up."

Charles looked at the pills with distrust. He had been medicated once before after a crisis, and he didn't want to experience what he had felt back then. Max knew this, so he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"It's just Ibuprofen and a valerian pill," Max said simply. Charles frowned at him. "Yes, Charles, I take some herbal shit for anxiety. Take it and shut up."

The Monegasque chuckled as he took both pills and reclined back on the bed. Max sat on the bed as well, not uttering a word, and they stayed like that for a while until Charles broke the silence.

"I messed up, didn't I?" he asked, with one arm covering his eyes.

"Yes and no," Charles looked at him confused. "Could you have handled it better? Definitely. But it was a lot of emotions in an absurdly short amount of time. It's normal that you exploded."

"Now she's going to think I'm an unstable idiot," he complained, burying his face in a pillow.

"Charles, that's what you are," the pillow landed on Verstappen's face, and he burst into laughter. "Okay, seriously, how did it feel to find her?"

Charles immediately sat up, crossing his legs and holding a pillow in his arms, giving Max the impression of being at a sleepover.

"I can't put into words what I felt when I saw her, Max," he said, and a huge smile appeared on his face. "She's as beautiful as the first time I saw her, even more so. I thought that if I saw her again, I would realize that I love her less than before, but that didn't happen."

"No?"

"No, I wanted to hug her, kiss her... Ask her every detail of the past three years. I wanted to know everything about her, if she was okay, and tell her how much I've missed her."

"You're disgustingly cheesy," the Dutchman joked. "But that's good, it means we know you still have some feelings for her."

"I love her."

"That..." he smiled. "And... what about the other thing? You know, about her daughter."

"That was a tough blow," he murmured, nodding. "She told me who the father is..."

"No way!" Max exclaimed, paying close attention and sitting up on the bed. "Who is it?"

"Esteban," Charles said with regret, and Max looked at him in disbelief. "Esteban Ocon."

"How? How did she end up with that idiot?" he asked incredulously. "And besides, weren't you guys friends? What the hell happened? How?"

"I didn't ask for the details, Max," Charles shrugged, shaking his head. "They were always quite close, anyway. Esteban and I... We became acquaintances more than friends over time. I guess it was the opposite with her."

"You're my friend, and that doesn't mean we're going to have a baby together."

"Max!"

"I'm just saying! Why would she do that?" he defended himself, shaking his head. "How did she keep it a secret for so long? And their relationship? I never thought they had that kind of connection."

Charles looked at him confused. "She said things didn't work out between them, so they're not together anymore."

"No... Amélie used to post photos and videos with Esteban, but they never gave off that vibe."

"Well... She said the child will turn two in July," Max made a face that Charles couldn't interpret. "Amélie must have been pregnant around October... or something like that, assuming the baby was born after nine months."

"Look at you, you're quite the mathematician," he said, laughing. "So, her relationship with Esteban started a couple of months before then."

Something just didn't add up in all of this. Max felt that there was something that simply didn't make sense. With that thought in mind, he got up from the bed and rummaged through the drawers, grabbing a small pink notebook adorned with adorable drawings, including a unicorn and a purple dog that Charles recognized.

The Ferrari driver raised an eyebrow and chuckled as Max picked up a rabbit-shaped pen and started writing.

"What are you doing?"

"Something doesn't feel right," he muttered while continuing to write. "Maybe it's just my paranoia, but just in case, I'll start an investigation."

"An investigation?" Charles shook his head. "She already said the child is Esteban's. Why would you doubt it?"

"Because the child is beautiful, and Esteban is not."

"But Amélie is beautiful! And I'm sure the child has more of her features than Esteban's."

"Well, then I won't include you in my investigation," he shrugged and closed the notebook, locking it with the small heart-shaped padlock. "I'll do it on my own."

"Sure..."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

She made a grimace and tilted her head, watching her daughter eat. Eliane was sitting next to her uncle as he helped her with her salad.

"I don't know, Marta," she murmured on the phone. "A few days ago, I ran into Charles, and it was chaotic."

"Charles won't come. Joris has removed him from every group in Monaco, so I don't think he has any idea we're going out," she heard her friend laugh. "We miss you here, beautiful."

"I also have to put Eliane to sleep," she said thoughtfully.

"Why don't you think about it and let me know? Although we would really love for you to come. There are so many things I need to tell you."

"Alright, I'll call you in a while."

It had been a long time since Amélie went out to a party. Motherhood, along with her career, consumed most of her time, so she had forgotten about late-night outings, except for her fashion events, where she also didn't stay longer than necessary.

Moreover, the encounter with Charles had left a bitter taste in her mouth because everything had gone wrong. If his presence was going to affect him that badly every time, it would be best for her to distance herself from his environment.

"I think you should go," her mom commented when Amélie hung up the phone. "They're your friends, and it's been a long time since you've seen them. You should take advantage of being here to catch up with everyone."

"But Eliane..."

"I would be delighted to spend time with her," her mother interrupted. "And your brother can help me."

"What? I'm also invited to the party," the mentioned brother complained, but he retracted his statement under their mom's threatening gaze. "Anyway, I didn't want to go."

"I don't want to inconvenience you, Mom," she smiled softly. "I'll go another time."

"It's not up for discussion, young lady. You need to break out of your mother shell," her mom said with tenderness. "You need time for yourself, and I'm sure you're dying to see the girls."

There was some truth in her mother's words. She didn't know how long she would stay in Monaco, so she was excited to see her friends. Besides, the plan didn't involve taking Eliane out, so she could keep her safe from curious looks and inappropriate questions.

She thought about it for a moment and sighed. Perhaps a bit of distraction was what she needed.

"You're right," she murmured, and her mother smiled widely. "I promise not to take so long."

"Don't worry."

Excitement flooded her body. She felt like a teenager again as she picked up her phone and immediately called Marta, who answered with shouts of joy upon hearing that she had decided to go.

She just hoped things wouldn't be too chaotic.

[shallyne]

Sunshine and Promises

If you do not like the pregnancy trope, this is not for you. The fic will be all about a pregnancy between a crackship, I suppose.

Thanks for beta reading @starfall-spirit

Words: 2,397

TW: none

Feyre promised herself to live her life to the fullest possible until she settles down. Then she meets Helion and things seem to fall apart

The moment Feyre had moved out to go to college she promised herself that she would live. She would live, be spontaneous and party, get out of her comfort zone. She would live for the childhood she didn't get and instead worked job for job, barely making enough for her family. So Feyre would have fun and get her degree and then have some more fun. It's not that she didn't want to settle, she definitely wanted that but at some point later in life, when Feyre was content as she lived. 

And she did. Feyre had fulfilled her promise all throughout college up until now, a few months after her twenty-sixth birthday. Her friend Ressina, who she met in college, invited her to a party and because Feyre was free that evening, she went. During that party she met Helion, they talked, and flirted, a lot that night but they both went home that night and nothing happened between them. They met again at a friend's birthday party, nothing happened again though the chemistry was certainly there. The third time they met in a club and that's when they exchanged numbers and when Helion had invited her over, Feyre said yes. It wasn't a surprise that they ended up having a one night stand. It's still a one night stand if you stayed the whole weekend without leaving, right? 

The weeks after, Feyre was going on about her day as usual and loosely texting with Helion here and there. It mostly turned into them sending each other memes or funny videos. The last she got from Helion was a video of a cat whose head got stuck in an empty bag of chips. Giggling, Feyre's eyes wandered to the date. Suddenly serious, she loosened a breath. Her period was a day late. It's not unusual, she calmed herself down, her period wasn't punctual, exactly to the day. It never was, there was no need to get nervous. So Feyre waited. Then another day went by without her period, and another, and another. After a nightmare plagued her that left a bad taste in her mouth, where she suddenly held a small baby in her arms and people told her it was hers, she threw the covers away from her, put on clothes and went to the nearest 24 hour store. It was around 5 AM but Feyre didn't care, she needed to do this now. So she paid and went home again. Luckily she didn't pee right after waking up so she didn't have to wait and drink an obscene amount of water before she paid on that stick. 

"You better not be positive." Feyre muttered as she washed her hands and waited. She leaned against the counter and the longer she waited, the sicker she felt. Her nervousness grew with every tick of the timer she had set. It's going to be alright. It's not going to be- she turned her head to the test. Fucking hell. No! She took the pregnancy test and blinked a few times, hoping that her tired eyes played a trick and there weren't two lines. Feyre was about to throw the test away in a fit but that wouldn't make it less real. 

She put the test in a drawer and went back to bed. Of course she couldn't find sleep again as a thousand thoughts were crashing on her. Her phone was heavy in her hand as she considered calling someone. Maybe she could call Ressina, maybe she would call one of her sisters even though they barely talked over the years or maybe - maybe the test was wrong. There was only one way to find out, so Feyre dozed on and off until it was finally late enough that she could make an appointment at her gynecologist. She didn't get an appointment for that day but she got one for the following morning. Feyre could hold out for a day. Just a tiny day. 

Although Feyre was itching to talk to someone, she ignored any message that came in today, including Helion's message about some party downtown on the weekend. 

Feyre focused on housework and when she was done in the afternoon, her apartment was as clean as it never was. Then she managed to answer most of her emails for work and then get a long shower. When she was done with all of that, it was just 6 PM, so to kill time she put on one of her favorite shows and microwaved herself some dinner. As she watched her show her thoughts drifted off and she tried to remember if she felt different in the last few weeks. She did feel nauseous sometimes but it was usual that she felt a little nauseous when she didn't have her breakfast yet. 

Somehow Feyre managed to kill the time until she was tired. During that night she tossed and turned and but she got at least some sleep until she had to get up and get ready for her appointment. As much as Feyre hated to be up early, she was glad that she got an early appointment, the waiting room just started to fill when a nurse called her in. 

Usually Feyre is good at keeping her emotions in check but when the doctor told her that she is indeed pregnant, she burst out in tears. She couldn't even place any emotion at that time because she felt them all. 

When she left the doctors office she sent Helion a text to ask him if he was home and fortunately he texted back that he was just on his way home and that she could meet him there. Feyre arrived twenty minutes later and knocked on his front door. 

"Hello!" Helion greeted her, grinning brightly. "Is everything alright? Your message was so ominous, we need to talk. Or did you look for an excuse to talk to me? You don't need an excuse for that." he crossed his muscular arms. 

"Well, we need to talk." Feyre said, pushing her sweaty hands in the pockets of her jacket. "I was just at the doctor's." 

The mischievous grin vanished from Helion's face and he stood straighter. "What's going on?" 

"I guess it doesn't make sense to talk around it." Feyre sighed. "I'm pregnant." 

Helion stared at her and then blurted out "With a baby? Mine?" 

"Yes, with a baby! Yes, yours!" Feyre snapped. "Why else would I stand here and tell you? Whose baby would it be?" 

"I don't know! I don't know who else you had sex with!" Helion said and threw his arms up in exasperation. 

"No one!" Feyre said. "Well at least no other man but that doesn't matter! You're the father!" 

Helion let out a breath, looked behind Feyre and then stepped to the side, holding the door open. "Please come in, we don't need to discuss this in the corridor." 

Feyre nodded and walked past Helion. He closed the door and then she followed him into an elegant living room. The whole apartment is bigger than Feyre remembered but then again, she didn't really focus on the apartment when she was here the last time. 

"Sit wherever you want." he told her and Feyre sat down on one of the big, cushioned chairs. Most of the furniture was kept in white with gold accents, the chair no exception. Feyre raised an eyebrow when she looked at Helion, who stood beside the little coffee table and looked at her. 

"Do you want something? Are you hungry? Or thirsty? My fridge is full but we can also order something if you'd like." 

Feyre shook her head "No, thank you." 

"Not even water?" Helion asked. 

"A glass of water would be nice." Feyre smiled at him and he looked relieved as she said so. 

"Okay, give me a second. I'll be right back." he said and vanished. 

Feyre leaned her head against the backrest of the chair and took a deep breath to calm herself down. It will be alright. 

"Here's your water." Helion said and placed it in front of her on the coffee table. Feyre took a sip as Helion sat on the couch closest to her. "So…." he said. "Do you want to keep it?" 

Feyre bit on the inside of her cheek. She didn't pay much thought about this and she realized it's because "Yes, I want to keep it."

Helion nodded. "Okay." he said, rubbing his hands. "Good." 

They were silent for a few uncomfortable moments. Then Helion said "I'd like to join you. At the doctor's appointments, I mean." 

Before Feyre could be grateful and shut her mouth she blurted out "Why?" 

Helion genuinely looked confused at her question and slightly tilted his head, his hands stopping to nervously rub each other. "Because it's also my child," he said. 

Feyre suddenly felt so embarrassed that she slumped farther into herself as a blush crept onto her cheeks. Helion sighed and then said "Listen, I'm not going to act like this is not a shock. This was the last thing I had expected but if you want to keep the child then I am with you and I want to be a part of the baby's life." he said. "But please be patient with me because I don't have a fucking clue about this." 

Feyre laughed and said "Then we can learn together because I don't have a fucking clue either." 

They both chuckled and when their laughter faded, they sat in silence for a few moments. It was more comfortable than the silence before. When Feyre put her glass down again after taking a big sip Helion said "Feyre?" 

"Yes?" 

"How old are you?" 

"Twenty six!" she answered. 

"Twenty six days from your birthday…?" Helion asked. 

"Nope, twenty six years old!" Feyre answered and grinned at him. 

"Holy shit." Helion muttered and rubbed his eyes. She took a closer look at him and she supposed he was older than her. His thirties maybe or maybe even his early forties. Feyre didn't know, she hadn't asked him when they met each other. 

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to cry." Feyre said. 

Helion rolled his eyes and said "Good that you're back to your good spirits, brat." 

Feyre giggled and took a look at the clock on the opposite wall. "I have to go now." she said truthfully. Her boss was about to call her in the early afternoon and she had to answer the last few emails that waited for her before that call. 

"Let's go then." Helion said. He brought her to the front door and when he put on shoes, Feyre asked 

"What are you doing?" 

"I'll bring you home!" Helion said and grabbed the car keys from a side table. 

"You don't have to-" 

"But I want to." He interrupted her and gently pushed her out of the front doors. "Be careful, there are steps." 

"I know, I'm not blind." she retorted and already went down the stairs as Helion locked his door. It only took him a few seconds until he was at her side again. 

During the drive home, he asked her when her next appointment was and she told him that it was in four weeks. He didn't wait in the car as Feyre went into her apartment building, he insisted on bringing her to her apartment safely. 

While Feyre threw her keys into a bowl that she had made once in a pottery class, Helion looked around her tiny apartment. He looked like a giant there. 

"I know it's very small, I need to find something new in the next few months." she told him. 

He turned around and nodded. "And maybe in a better neighborhood." 

"I live here because it's affordable." Feyre countered. 

"Of course, I didn't want to attack you" Helion said softly and Feyre realized she must have had more bite in her words than she wanted. "I'll get home again, please call if you need something." 

Feyre smiled at him "I will, thank you." 

He dipped his head once and smiled back. "I'll see you!" he said and left. 

When Feyre lounged on her bed that evening, Helion messaged her. The evening he had asked her to join the party downtown, he now asked her to hang out at his apartment to get to know each other better. Feyre told him she's in, they both sat in the same boat now and barely knew each other personally. 

Feyre arrived a few minutes earlier at his apartment that Saturday than they agreed on because she wanted to walk and didn't tell Helion. He didn't look surprised when she already stood on his front step and ushered her inside. When she entered his living room another man was lounging on the very same chair she sat on a few days ago. He probably was the most beautiful man Feyre had ever seen. He looked surprised when he looked at her and then stood up. 

"Hey." Feyre said. 

"Hello." he said, smiling brightly at her. "You must be Feyre." 

She looked at the stranger and then at Helion. "You already told him, didn't you?" 

Helion smiled at her apologetically. "Yes." 

"Yeah, I'm sorry." said the stranger and Feyre turned back around to him. "Congratulations, though." 

"Thank you." Feyre said. 

"I'm Rhysand." he said, extending his hand "But my friends call me Rhys." 

Feyre shook it. "Nice to meet you, Rhysand."

Rhysand chuckled. "Please call me Rhys. I guess that's my cue to leave," he said. 

"Why? Stay!" she grinned at Helion. "I don't trust you to tell me embarrassing details. Do you know some embarrassing stuff about him, Rhys?" 

"I do know a lot of embarrassing stories about Helion." Rhys said, his violet-blue eyes dancing with humor. 

Helion laughed. "What's one more mouth to feed? But I would have told you the embarrassing details myself." 

"That's also true." Rhys said, sitting down on the couch and leaving the chair to Feyre. 

They all ordered and while they waited, Helion told her that he owned his own club and Rhys inherited the company of his father. During their meal, they all got to know each other but they also told Feyre stories that were so ridiculous that she almost spewed water over the whole table because she laughed so much. 

[jaiyemourningstar91]

DONE

Since coming out to two of my, sort of life long friends--two guys who have literally become brother's to me--saved me from self non-existing...you name it. Been there with me through all my ups and downs in life, especially my adult life...all the heartbreaks, depression, etc etc---BUT. Since, coming out to them as queer (a pandemic as I consider myself *pansexual + demisexual*) and becoming more open with them about myself, my beliefs, sexuality, etc. They've kinda been acting different. More judgmental than usual.

Like we built part of our brotherhood based in hard hitting roastings and what have you. No punches pulled at times. So, when I say things are different, this goes beyond all that. And I don't know, maybe it has something to do with us all getting older. We're collectively in or around mid 30s. Life has changed for us in different ways, yet, also remained the same. As our trio has seen them both become rather successful at life and having built lives full of experiences I have never been close to. Traveling to foreign countries, marriage, successful carries, financial stability, decent family, houses with land attached, you know, the finer things in life. As best as one can get in this economy at least...

But me, well, I've always been the overweight loser of the group. Always punching upward trying to break my glass ceiling. Cool, calm, and collected. Gentle giant who always tries to be selfless. Do the right things. You name it. But, in the end, life happens. I've been through the shittiest things. All the bad luck. Everything that could go wrong, has. Bout all that hasn't happened is my own premature burial. I'm at yet another low point having lost my car out of nowhere due to engine failure. Overnight, mind you. No warning signs or anything. Lost a decent paying job, now working only making 11.50 an our at a dollar store. Management at that, which really is a just a glorified cashier to be honest. I was walking to and from, but thankfully I get rides now. Befriended by some people who apparently thought I am a "foodie" because of my weight or me simply saying I enjoy Chinese food? Whatever the case may be, I am thankful for the rides, but I also felt a little insulted. I don't even eat like that. Hell, some days I have to remind myself to. ANYWAY, sidetracked. Back to what this is about.

SO. Today, my 'brothers', well one of them insists I call him. Urgent matters. I'm like, I kinda feel like I know, but BOY did I not know the details exactly until I called.

According to them, they have spoken with their respective spouses, without my knowledge, and decided that I have two options. To move in with one of the two, leave the life I am currently working on, INCLUDING abandoning the love of life, my adopted children (doggos and cats), the friends i have made recently, my job I just started a few months ago, and my roommate too. Like everything I've known after breaking up with my toxic 13 year relationship last year. Scrap it all to apparently come live with either of them and basically pursue the same exact professions they are doing. One is a truck driver. Other is someone who works with mentally challenged children. One I can live rent free until I'm on my feet. The other, I'll have to do things, which weren't disclosed but I am assuming help around house, rent, bills, or something as I find work out there which is like 4 hours away from here. The other is about 2. But yeah...

And the reasoning...

Basically they are tired of me constantly failing at life and not being at the level they have made it to. Saying they think I'm never gonna make it without them at this point. I'll be homeless in my 60s, granted I'll make it that far. No retirement plans. Want me to break up with my boyfriend, without giving me any reasoning behind that by the way. Just straight said, break up, didn't even have the respect to use the right pronouns too, which pissed me the fuck off because I have told them to do so several times now and clearly they aren't taking shit seriously! Like I am really fucking shitty that two people who have been like brothers to me have basically said I'm hopeless, you'll never get anywhere in life unless you pick a path like this some red pill blue pill scenario. And then insinuate that the offer has an expiration as if I'm gonna be left in the fucking dust if I don't accept. Telling me there are no excuses not to pick one of their paths as if my current life has no value at all. As if don't have love here. People who depend on me. Animals too. My own ambitions set out and things I am working towards. Like fuck all that I guess, just so they can turn me into whatever the fuck they are now.

Don't get me wrong. I can see some of the sentiment, but it is the way they come across and the stipulations attached. Like what the actual fuck? And overall, the way they seem to see me now since coming out in general. Like I'm "one of them" which I caught one of them saying before in our group chat, which honestly, these days I hardly pay attention to because most times its just them chatting about all the stuff they do that I can't relate to anyway.

But gawd damn man. I'm baffled and I really think I just need to cut out the new cancer. Cold turkey. The disrespect is real. Sure, they got decent paying jobs, but trust, what goes on in they homes and all the BS they talk about ain't something I want to be around. One married with 6 kids that ain't even his, Grown at that and apparently tearing his new 300k house apart. Go figure. The other has a GF who loves him to death. Brought him into her home. Allowed him to be there while he works on his career. She makes 6 figures a year. Done got him in the same profession. Yet, he saying the moment he gets to where he wants to be, he's just gonna leave her? Really? And also apparently, she got tons of issues too. Like why would I leave the peace I have here?

I have someone in my life for ounce who isn't ripping my heart apart. I have pets. PETS! All my life I thought I was too allergic but turns out, take some allergy pills and I'm mostly ok if I am medicated. Like my life could be better with a better job and a car. Which are things that are on the horizon. It's not hopeless here. A work in progress, yes. But not something to just toss into the fucking void.

AAAAANNNNDDDDD where in the god damn FUCK was this sort of assistance when I NEEEEEDDED IT MOST!!!! I was literally about to be living out of my FUCKING CAR before I moved in where I am now, and neither one of those FUCKERS offered for me to move in or anything! One offered me to take over his apartment he was moving out of, which found out I couldn't offered anyway. That was it. Like...wtf man. All the sudden NOW, you want to be here for me to that degree and then shit on my life and basically say I'll never amount to anything if I don't accept. Homeless at 60. Wow. Fuck me getting a better job, a car, maybe even becoming a published writer, or anything else. As if this economy gonna be any better at that. It is only getting worse. We all gonna end up fucked. Even they still struggling themselves. One too many elaborate trips out the state has them crumbling.

I'm just appalled at this today. Heated. The delivery. The timing. The circumstance. The ultimatum. How I am being made to feel...The shit hurts. Now I gotta take the blade to another connection in my life and sever it. Because I don't want people in my life who apparently don't believe in me. That is the last thing I need. I am trying so fucking hard to turn things around again. It took me 9 of 13 years to finally end a depressive toxic cycle from my ex, and I lost everything because of it. My house, my car, my FUCKING kids! All because I didn't want to continue being with a cheater, a liar, and manipulative bitch! And now, after over 20years, I have to end a brotherhood.

This is why I am introverted and don't make friends anymore. This is why I don't care to date even though I am in an open relationship. People really just end up showing me they ugliness. And I am left hurt. Fuck the sentiment man. Call me worthless, like I haven't come back from the depths of suicidal depression to still be here on my own for the most fucking part. They came in with an assist, but I wouldn't went through with the shit anyway. My kids needed me. They act like they so set for life but they both secretly miserable with their lives and not where they want to be. They can deny that shit all they want to.

The audacity man. I've been through too much and come back from even more, to be considered hopeless.

One these days I'm gonna make it. And when hands are out stretched towards me, they will get nothing. I had always planned to give back to them. Fuck em now. I'll show you worthless.

[drewharrisonwriter]

Between Rain and Firelight (2014)

Here's a weird plot that swirled in my head back in 2014.

Summary: In the aftermath of a fateful night, two troubled individuals grapple with the weight of their actions and the consequences they must face.

You can find my other original works and fan fictions on this masterlist.

The both of them sat silently on the bed. Only the sound of the rain outside could be heard until he lit a cigarette as she sat beside him, terrified and trembling.

He brushed his hair away from his eyes and looked at her calmly; he too was troubled but not as much as she was; perhaps the cigarette helped him calm down, but who knows for sure? Maybe he's used to being in such a situation, considering his history with women like her.

"What are we supposed to tell them?" She finally spoke.

He took a deep breath and moved further back into the bed to lean on the headboard.

"Nothing. I don't think we need to tell anybody about this; I mean, we could take care of it ourselves." He answered.

"I am not so sure about your plan. It's too risky. I might get into a lot more trouble." She murmured as he stared blankly at the wall trying to think of another way out.

"Well, it's either that or carry the burden forever." He blurted out, which made her glance at him sharply. She knew it was a mistake, she knew that this would happen, she knew exactly what the outcome would be, yet she still agreed to do it. Now here she is, in the same room where they had done it thinking of a way out of the mess they have made.

"But don't you think it's better if we give it a chance? I mean, who are we to play God anyway?"

"Listen," he said as he moved closer to her. "I told you from the very start that I don't want this kind of responsibility—"

"I am not giving you a responsibility!" She said louder than she had intended to. "I just wanted to let you know… and I just need your help for now. I need a little support. When this is all over, you don't have to worry about a thing. I can handle it." He reached for her hand and pulled her close for a hug.

"But that would ruin your career, perhaps even your entire life, if you won't get rid of it now." He whispered to her, but she shook her head as she pulled away from him.

"Don't talk about it as if it's not there. It's breathing; it can hear you."

"Let it hear me! Then maybe it would just get rid of itself!"

She stood up and walked away from the bed, away from him. She stood by the window, watching the rain and the empty street.

"We've talked about this before." She said tearfully. He sighed and lit another cigar before he stood up and hugged her from behind.

"It would be alright; you just have to trust me on this one. Okay? Everything will be just fine; we'll just tell your folks that you're going on a road trip with the gang for a couple of days, and they will never know what happened." He said reassuringly. She turned to face him, looking him deep in the eyes.

"Will you promise not to leave until it's all over?" She asked him, and he smiled warmly at her.

"Even when it's all over, I'll stay."

And with that, they hugged, but their brief moment of joy was interrupted by a soft movement from under the bed. They both walked toward it and pulled out a huge black bag. He opened it, revealing the head of a middle-aged man struggling to speak through the duct tape that covered his mouth.

"I'm sorry, boss, but you deserve this." She said coldly and dangerously as she pulled a knife from beneath the blanket. The blade caught the light, and without another word, she drove the knife straight into the man's chest.

He came in to back her up by smashing a lamp on his head, and just as she thought the deed was done, he stood up and pulled something out of the bedside drawer. It was a gun with a silencer, and before she knew it, the man's struggling stopped as blood splattered on the floor.

"Now, it's gone. Let's clean up, grab the money and jewels in the safe and leave before it gets dark." He said, and a few moments later, they were burning the dead man inside the giant fireplace in the living room while they cleaned up the blood-splattered bedroom.

The rain has stopped, and they left the house with the fireplace still roaring wildly as the cadaver succumbs to the flames.

[elisethetraveller]

Continued from; misstantabismuses

He owed her his life.

Vander did not know how or through what means but somehow Elise had saved him from the certain clutches of death. Not that it would matter much. The aged wolf, the retired Hound of the Underground was still far too weak to do anything, save for sitting in an armchair in her house, nursing a mug of tea in his hands and inspecting the fire in the stove.

Fire… Why did that seem to spark a nerve?

"What is there to talk about?", Vander responded, "Silco's in charge of the Lanes, and I already told you that I am not going to take them back. I had hoped he would spare the Lanes, but I am also not too surprised that he isn't doing that. My brother always had a certain… bloodthirst."

A bloodthirst, which Vander in the past had easily matched. Until he saw where it and the violence so deeply engrained into Zaun could lead. As much as the Undercity needed its fangs and claws for self-preservation, Vander wished people would pick their battles wiser. Certain fights just weren't worth the risk of losing people. And losing was all Vander had done. His children were gone. Mylo and Claggor were dead, and Vander had no idea where Vi or Powder was. If they were even alive and together. He hoped it, but some queasy feeling inside of him told him that wasn't true.

Moreover, Vander respected the rules of the Undercity. He may not be a Chem-Baron or have a gang himself, but he knew very well that territories could easily be taken over by others at a moment's notice. And as much as some folks might resent Silco for killing Vander, the former barkeep knew that technically Silco had every right to lay claim to the Lanes by Undercity rules and conduct.

"The only thing I care about is what happened to my girls", Vander said, "Do you have any information on Powder or Vi? Anything? I need to know what happened to them. I need to know if they are okay."

There were things only time could heal. Elise had done her best to make Vander comfortable, even before he woke up because she hadn't been sure he would. Still, now that he was awake, it was dawning on her that his injuries might extend beyond his physical form. And she had no real way of helping him with that. So, for now, she did her best to make him comfortable.

"Yes, I think we have established that, but…" Silco, Vander, the Lanes. So many new names and places to consider, all of which she felt ill-prepared for. "What about the people looking for you?" It was natural that when a body wasn't recovered, people clung to the hope that a person had made it by some miracle. The healer supposed there had been a miracle in this instance, even if the term irritated her. "I am not saying you should go lead them, or be some grand figure in a counter-coup, but from what I hear…They miss you; They are mourning you. Don't you miss them too?"

Slowly she moved around him from where she had entered the room. The house she had found was anything but grand, but the roof held tight, and the walls were solid, and that was all she needed. The fact it was a tad old, with a wood and coal oven instead of gas as she'd seen in some of the fancier houses around, was a boon to her rather than an annoyance. She knew how to keep a hearth going. Besides, the age had worn the windows to a state where they might as well have been painted or frosted, which helped conceal both her and her guest.

"I know a little, but…You need to remember that I am new here. My observations might not be the sharpest because of that." Sitting down on the second chair in the room, she fiddled with her sleeve but met his gaze with the calm demeanour of someone who had delivered bad news a thousand times before. "I can't find any traces of Vi, not in any of the places you suggested I might look. I even went back to where I found you just to see if there might be a blood spatter, or trail, or anything I had missed on the first night." A fruitless endeavour considering the amount of time that had passed, but sometimes luck came through. "On the bright side, I think she's alive? People talk like they expect her to be somewhere, and I haven't found anything to suggest otherwise." Elise wasn't sure if the news, or lack thereof, regarding Vi, were worse than the news she had regarding Powder.

"Powder…Seems to be doing alright. I have seen her around a couple of times near the Last Drop. She looks clean and as healthy as anyone down here does." Looks could deceive, but… "As far as I can tell, Silco has taken her in." The culture of foundlings down here made sense, but it did not explain why, from what the mage could understand, a man would take his enemy's child under his wing. But then again, she had seen similar things happen, albeit in a different time and place. Emperors that adopted the princes and princesses of their conquered lands, either to instill loyalty or use as leverage. "She moves around freely and seems to be working on some small devices." Technology was not her forte, but she could recognize bombs when she saw them. However, that was a detail for later. "She does seem to be using a new name, however."

( @misstantabismuses )

[yourbuerokrat2]

@teeth-go-clink brought up the possibility of Q becoming angry and just making everything worse even if he wants to fix it.

And since I love to write Q being a bit messed up here it is:

There was no reason for Picard to fear him.

Q had, after all, done so much for him. Saved him from being used by that thief, saved his life and helped him during the Trial. So really, there was no need for this kind of reaction.

It hurt to see Picard flinch ever so slightly as Q reached out.

Q tried for a reassuring smile but his pain and his growing frustration more at himself for failing to come up with an immediate way to fix this and the universe for daring to let Picard know what he was never (or at least only in a distant future) supposed to find out about than at this human seemed to come through his mask.

"I would never do something like this to you and you know this."

An admission and a reassurance in one.

"So you did do it?", his capitaine asked and once more put some very much not needed distance between them.

"Past, present and future are such human concepts." Has done it, is doing it and will continue to do it.

"As you should know since I have rearranged them all for you. Multiple times by now." Q did not even try to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"You should go now, Q." And by all means this is what he should do. Allow both of them, especially Picard, some time to process all that he now knew, calm down and the they both could pretend like nothing changed.

But Jean-Luc Picard was not the type of person who would let something like this go. Would either leave everything Q has worked towards, every resemblances of friendship of something more than that of warmth in the dust and out in the cold of indifference and underlying fear even once they managed to talk about this.

So no, Q would not 'go'. He was going to stay here and fix it so instead of this unneccessary drama they could go back to instead talk about the possibility of 'them', the possibility of an 'us' that had nearly been in Qs reach until the universe decided that Q was not allowed to have this kind of happiness because of crimes past, present and future.

He was acting like a spoiled child, stomping his feet, holding his breath and threatening to break the porcelaine vase if he did not get his way. Just that considering who and what he was the equivalent actions were a changing galaxy, an Enterprise stopped in time and place and ... and there was no real third action except for a staring contest between them. Q was searching for annoyance and it was there, he was looking for anger and it was there but there was still this awful fear.

And then Q stopped his childish tantrum as Picard would call it on a usual day.

And he laughed, a real one and not a nervous one this time.

Of course. How had he not thought of this as soon as the problem arised?

He raised his hand and snapped.

Everything was alright again. Everything has always been alright.

Q was sitting in his capitaines office, sipping on a tea of Earl Grey he had materialized for himself as he watched his human drink the one he had materialized for him (way better than anything the replicator could ever hope to offer).

"...so you can imagine the stress I am currently under."

"You know I could always take care of it for you, mon capitaine."

"And have to deal with Starfleets question regarding your involvement afterwards? Certainly not.

Besides this is a rather complicated diplomatic mission that needs a lot of tact. Nothing you can just snap your fingers and fix automatically."

"Oh I don't know about that, Jean-luc. I can be pretty convincing when I want to be."

When the entity carefully placed his human hand on Picards, he was rather pleased to see that the man did not move it away nor say anything about it.

Yes, everything was alright again.

"Come on, mon capitaine. Surely you don't..."

A step forward brought on a step back from the person who was never supposed to look at him like this. Even before this fragile thing they had, even when Q had threatened his crew, froze Tasha Yar and threatened his species had Jean-Luc Picard never looked at him like this.

"Is it true, Q?"

There was the stoic voice, the straightened posture but there was also the presence of fear, something which Q used to enjoy in the eyes of others but never him, his human was never in all of eternity supposed to..

Q tried to brush it off, pretend like all of it was nothing. willing his gesture, his body and words to be completely human yet by trying to act too much like one he betrayed his more inhuman nature.

A nervous laugh and the rhetorical question of "What even can be called 'the truth' in this universe?"

"Yes or no, Q."

They ruined it. And now Q is going to have to fix it.

Even if Picard might not approve of the solution.

[heart-reach]

To the one that shone a light I thought would never be cast upon me.

I remember your face so clearly in a time where I felt nothing

As we walked along the sand I found a small fire burning within me

As we dove into the ocean with all of our clothes on I felt it stoke to life

I felt something gnawing at my soul and decided to push further down this line

I realized that all I wanted to do was remember you

I remember the way your hands looks in your hair

I remember the way you look over at me as you fiddle with your rings

The slight angle that you hold your head when you are interested in something

I remember our car ride that was too long for a second date and how we both had to go pee so badly

I remember the mild awkwardness we felt in the sushi bar

And when we went to CVS to get sunscreen because I burn like a pizza in an oven too hot

I remember looking over your tattoos that graced your skin so elegantly

And being told to get out of the water because it was a surfer only zone

Then we saw NOPE and I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by how much you were taking in the scenes

I was fascinated that you were getting so much out the experience and were totally transfixed

I knew at this point that there was something very interesting about you

We went to the bar that had pool and Karaoke, we met Elon there who was a jerk

But this was rivaled by a moment that was so serene I could not describe it well enough

Maybe it was acceptance, embrace, and peace all wrapped up in curly hair with dimples

I felt something I haven’t felt in years

Passion and desire

From this point on I wanted all of you, to drink you in completely and learn about your world

It would not be untrue to say that this is a greedy thing, but I was desperate for your love

I still want you, but I see that the entitlement of man is what pushes me past your boundaries

Thus, I sit here contemplating my next move, my next action

I want to maintain something with you, but how can it be so easy to forget the fire you brought to life

Sure, this may be my body but a fire does not light itself

I was gas, formless, desireless, ever changing and who’s intention is unknowable

I see this as the flaw in myself now and that may be the reason for where we are, and I accept this

But to remember the way you held me in your bed, and the warmth of your skin and lips

It is a curse to bare those thoughts and consider you just a friend

To remember your face laughing next to the other serious couples at the restaurant on the beach

To remember the touch of your hand on my neck

To remember the feeling of your skin and how the lines in your tattoos were so slightly raised

And remembering the blue light shining off of your face at the comedy club

I remember you were wearing a light blue dress that you put on in my car after the beach

But then I started cracking, my past creeping into my mind and I became desperate

I started panicking when distance was applied for too long

I grew to want you so much that I could no longer process the idea of being by myself

I sought something that an old me craved, and still does crave… despite my anger at it

Union and Oblivion

A state of togetherness that nulls my senses until I become a nothing more than flesh and bone

And still you pushed me to find myself

A courtesy I still have trouble understanding today, not for my lack of worthiness though

It is troubling to know that I had never received that from a lover before

Maybe, that is what I am after again

I want to hear my heart sing its song again

This experience will not stop me from trying again, this shows me what I want

I just hope I can settle these feelings in my heart to find my way back to you

As a friend

I just need to calm my storm, so I don’t unsettle your ground

We are both fragile, I believe more so than we would like to admit

Thus, I wait

I will wait until I can talk to you without the pain of loss

I’d rather feel the joy of a shared experience as friends then mourn a “missed chance”

You told me what I had to say was special, how am I not supposed to love you.

[suna-reversed]

Somebody else

sukuna x reader/ yuuji x reader

wherein, your best friend takes over your lover’s body

decided to combine these two👀

(❤️=size difference)

Warnings/Tags- dub con, unprotected sex, creampie, manhandling, choking, nipple play, mirror sex, degredation, slapping (once), spit kink, size kink, oral (m.receiving), bulging, slight exhibitionism?, yandere themes heavily implied! (all characters are aged up‼️)

The arrangement, per say, was quite peculiar. But you somehow still managed to work it out, much thanks to Yuuji’s patience and his willingness to allow such a thing. 

You couldn’t remember when it started, perhaps it was your constant bickering with the mouth on Yuuji’s cheek or how it always seemed to show up whenever you were around, or perhaps it the time he saved your life during one particularly tedious mission, surprising everyone else.

Whatever it was, it had ended up making the king of curses grow a soft spot for you. Well, at least what would be considered soft for a curse. It was never acknowledged except for the one time you went to sleep in between tattooed arms and woke up to the face of your best friend staring intently at you, 

“It’s okay, as long as you’re happy.” He’d said. You didn’t pay much heed to why he hadn’t removed his body from yours. 

Time with Sukuna was scarce, most of it being when Yuuji would be too tired after a mission and involuntarily shift, leaving you alone in the hours of dusk with your lover, as he drove his lips all over your body, moaning filthy things in your ear as he rut into you- you could only hope your best friend was unconscious all throughout it. 

----

You were on your knees in between Sukuna’s legs, taking as much of his huge girth down your throat as you could, your hands taking care of what your tongue couldn’t. Glancing up at him through your lashes, you don’t fail to miss the smug look on his face as you desperately whine around his cock. You know he’s just playing, god forbid he ever cums anywhere except for deep inside your cunt. 

“Begging for my cock already- how pathetic.” 

His voice is gravelly calm, sending a shiver straight down your spine. You whine once again as he slightly bucks his hips up, your mouth struggling to encompass his massive member. One of his hands comes to grip your hair, your moan coming out muffled against a mouth full of cock. 

“So desperate for it, aren’t you? Well, if you want it so bad you’d better start taking it-” He’s cut off with a groan, “Ah- shut up brat-” 

You somehow get the feeling that he wasn’t talking to you, but you don’t have much the time to ponder over it as the hand on your head starts pushing down urging you to start moving once again. 

“Fuck fuck- stop it! No-”

His voice is laced with genuine annoyance and you hurriedly pull yourself off of him, brows scrunched in confusion as you look up at him, wondering what you were doing wrong. 

The face that stares back at you however is chillingly unfamiliar, a cheshire grin spread across it which makes the marked face of your lover seem like it is of a madman. You’re thoroughly confused by Sukuna’s behaviour- you know he’s complex at times but you’re truly at a loss of comprehension this time. 

“Did I say that you could stop?” 

You instinctively shake your head, no words leaving your mouth as you remain stunned with his strange behaviour. 

His hand comes to caress your cheek, thumb moving to brush against your bottom lip,

“C’mere” he mumbles, and your body seems to move on it’s own, as you move your face close to his. The thumb on your bottom lip prods at your skin until you open your mouth and Sukuna brings his head to rest against yours- you’re too enchanted by the feral look in his eyes, gasping at the feeling of his saliva landing against the tip of your tongue. He presses your jaw shut with one hand as you struggle against it,

“Be a good girl and swallow it.” 

His commanding tone instantly has you doing so. You’ve never seen such a side to him, however, you can’t say that you mind it. His grip on your jaw loosens and you let him switch your positions- not like you could’ve fought against his raw strength. His muscular chest is pressed to yours as he pins you down beneath him, one large hand exploring the valley in between your legs, dangerously trailing close to right where you want it to be but never quite reaching there. 

“You like watching this huh?” 

Again, there’s a strange feeling in your gut, but it’s overpowered as two fingers land against your sensitive nub, lightly pinching it which makes you push your hips against his fingers, asking for more. 

A yelp escapes past your lips as he suddenly moves away, getting off the bed to stand at the edge. His cock stands tall against his stomach, tip still dripping with a mix of pre-cum and your spit from before. 

“Come here, slut.” 

You’re a little shocked at his words- used to getting spoiled with praise by this time of your rendezvous. Was he angry about something tonight? 

“No- I forbid you from leaving my arms.” He had said as you cuddled earlier in the night, making you laugh and slap his chest- which was exactly what led to where you were now. He seemed fine before- perhaps he just felt rougher tonight?

“Kitten, don’t make me tell you twice.” 

He growls out loud, snapping you out of your daze. You’re instantly crawling towards him, looking up at him with a mixture of both need and confusion as you wonder what he’s up to. A hand comes down to wrap around your throat, his breath right next to your ear as he leans forward, 

“Next time-” the grip on your throat tightens, “...you listen when I tell you something.” You weakly nod your head, sighing as he pulls away. 

Smack!

The burn on your cheek stings, making tears well up in the corner of your eyes- you look up, only to find yourself staring into a pair of orbs in between crinkled eyes, a smirk resting atop his lips- you almost feel guilty for the arousal that pools in between your legs. 

“Now now, let’s show you what a proper fuck is.” 

You’re being picked up, strong hands coming to knead the flesh of your ass as he walks you two over to the full length mirror in the corner of the room. Before you know it, he’s sitting you down on the chair in front of your vanity table, turning you around so that you’re met with the reflection of your legs spread over his thighs, his cock rubbing against your soaking pussy. 

You throw your head back against his chest as one of his hands moves forward to play with your clit, the other twisting and pinching your nipples. You’re grinding against his wet cock as he increases the pace of his fingers, moaning profanities as his teeth dig into your neck. You feel your orgasm building up, the tight coil in your stomach getting close to bursting and right as you’re there-

“No!” You cry out loud. 

Your eyes meet in the mirror and you’re slightly thrown off by the bewildered expression on Sukuna’s face- almost guilt filled and panicked- his hands completely positioned away from your body. 

“No please- don’t stop- need you filling me up so bad please.” You beg out loud, tears falling down your eyes, the ripples of your ripped away orgasm still pulsing through your body. 

And just like that, it’s gone, and the hunger-filled eyes are back. 

“Oh, she said she wants it- who am I to deny such a precious little thing?” 

You don’t have the time to register his words as strong arms lift you up, positioning his huge cock against your slick heat. You moan at the contact, still sensitive but needy as you clench your eyes in pleasure. 

“Do you know you look real pretty when you cry?” 

Your mind is too fuzzy from the feeling of his tip stretching your insides to respond. A hand comes to your jaw- angling it forward,

“Come on, look at how my cock stretches your tight little hole- how you gush around it like a desperate whore.” You find your eyes opening out of their own accord and almost moan at the sight you’re met with.

His enormous length is almost halfway inside you, the base of his shaft glistening with your dripping juices as your tiny hole struggles to fit all of him in. One of his arms is protectively wrapped around your waist, pushing down against the bulge starting to form on your stomach while the other kneads your tits, pressing them together, pulling your nipples every now and then. His scarlet orbs hold a wild look from where they glance up at you, his face bowed down, teeth biting into your neck. He makes sure you see him smirk against your skin as he pushes himself up deeper into you making you cry out loud. He starts bouncing you up and down on his cock, moving your body like a rag doll as the air is filled with both of your loud groans and grunts.

Yuuji would argue that he’s dreamed about this for weeks- almost months- perhaps from the first time he laid eyes upon you. All those times he had to watch your body underneath his- only to barely be able to feel you, your saccharine moans hitting his ears and him not being the reason for it- it pissed him off beyond reason. He thrusted his hips harder into you, the hand on your tits moving down to rub circles onto your clit. 

“Ah fuck- I’m close.”

That’s right- you were moaning for him now. More than you ever had for the stupid curse. Did he ever fill you up this well? Always handling you like you were as fragile as glass- when this is how a real whore like you wants to get fucked. He feels pride swell in his chest as he hears you crying about how big he is, how well he’s filling you up, how it’s too much- but you’re still crying for him to fill you up aren’t you? All while the king of curses sits back and watches helplessly. 

He feels your walls clamp down on him, your frail little body compared to his thrashing from the overstimulation of pleasure as he continues to fuck you through your climax. He finds his own pleasure not too later, spilling inside you with a loud moan, grinning at the sight of you all fucked out in the mirror- his seed dripping out of your hole as he pulls you up, turning you around so that you’re facing him. Your head falls against his chest, arms coming around his neck- the audacity you have- no, you don’t get to do this shit with him after all the years he took care of you- all the years he spent loving you- only for you to go ahead and open your legs the second a pathetic man with tattoos and a silver tongue showed up. 

“You didn’t think we were done did you?” 

You’re still too exhausted from your previous feat, almost clawing at his body heat being pulled away from you as you’re manhandled onto your knees on the floor. Your pleas are shut down with a single stern look from him- apparently puppy eyes weren’t gonna work on him tonight like they usually do. 

“I’m gonna make sure every single part of your body is covered with my cum by the time I’m done with you. Now suck.” 

Who were you to deny him? Especially when he kept his word, fucking into you all over the bedroom, spilling his load onto your tits, ass, face- everywhere. You were so tired by the end of the night, you didn’t notice how he didn’t run a bath for you or stroke your hair while pressing kisses to marks he’d littered your neck with like always. Instead, the last thing you saw was his back as he walked out the room- did it not have tattoos? You didn’t remember it the next day as you clocked out. 

The next few days are strange- with no sighting of your lover. You assume it’s because Yuuji’s busy with training or missions. That is until you meet him in the cafeteria. 

“y/n! Good morning!” He greets you cheerfully, and you feel a little guilty for wishing he wasn’t in such high spirits- hoping he’d have been tired enough for you to get some time with Sukuna.

“Hey, where have you been?” You ask while leaning into his side hug. Just for the matter of a second, you think you notice a feral look flashing through his eyes- gosh, how much had you missed Sukuna to have to be imagining such a thing. Yuuji is still speaking, his usual happy grin on his face,

“...no worries though, I’ll make sure you get your time with your grumpy big cat.” Your heart warms at your best friend’s considerate offer, knowing his time is limited and he still chooses to give it to you.

“Thank you so much Yuuji! Have I ever told you how grateful I am to have you as a friend?”

“It’s no problem y/n!” He says, ruffling your hair, “As long as you’re happy…”

You do not understand why Sukuna refuses to enter your room that day- insisting you shift somewhere else- or why he refuses to even touch any part of your body where he himself had left marks upon- or why there’s an air of jealousy and possessiveness to him as he bends you over the couch, hands tied behind your back while he ruts into you like an animal in heat, promises of fucking you better than ever before being grunted into your ear.

Taglist- @bakugohoex @mahitochan @saturnmoon @lilshortcakess @itsyaboiana @p-each-y-day @osmosly @jotazinha @captainmads2092 @laura-marie-16 @tsuki-kusa

Thanks to my masochist baby @bakugohoex for helping with the idea🙄🙄 no I’m not killing the reader❤️

[demonsandmischief]

Something Special

Marvel - Bucky Barnes Imagine

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader,

Soulmate AU

1.6k Words

You can meet your soulmate in your dreams but you can't speak to them and you lose most memory when you wake up, but for some reason your soul mate has never met you there. You're certain they don't exist, until one day.

A/N: I imagine this taking place during TFATWS :).

----

"What do you mean you've never met your soulmate in your dreams?" Sam Wilson asked his friend Bucky.

"I have nightmares, Sam. That is no place for them to be," Buck argued, taking a rag to wipe the blood off of his vibranium arm.

"But they probably think you're dead."

"It's just better off that way," the stoic man finished, his steely eyes meeting Sam's.

"I don't think you're willing to admit that you are scared to try," Sam said, his voice dropping to a softer tone as he leaned forward.

Bucky sighed. "Of course I'm scared. I am not what anybody wants for a lifelong partner," he whispered, dragging his flesh hand down his face.

"Bucky, that's not your choice to make." He stood up, walking away to let him think it over.

Bucky had heard stories of how people meet their soulmate in dreamland. It was a common occurance, but when he had first tried during World War II, he never got a response. There was no way he could even have one now. He was 106 years old after all.

Yet, when he went to bed that night, he decided to push his thoughts aside and focus on calling for you.

You had been waiting for your soulmate to meet you, but it had been years and never once did you hear anything back. You just figured you didn't have one.

Until that night as you were drifting to sleep, it was like a tingling sensation that drew you in. Your eyes were closed, yet it was like following a rope deeper into the darkness of your head.

At the end, was a man. He was tall and stern, and even though you were dreaming, you could feel his presence.

His facial expression remained masked when he saw you, but even you could see his dark eyes widen slightly. You couldn't believe it, after all this time. You searched his body for any distinguishable features, but only found a blurring image. It was going too fast and you were already waking up.

Bucky couldn't believe he saw you on his first try. Plus, seeing you meant no nightmares. Instead, he had a new longing to look for you, and when he woke the following morning he scrambled to write something down before he lost it.

"Shit," he groaned miserably, only managing to write down brown eyes. Most of the population has brown eyes.

"Someone's in a mood," Sam grinned when he caught sight of Bucky's deep frown, deeper than usual that is. He took another bite of toast. "We've got to move on this next lead. Be ready in five."

"Seriously, what's up with you?" Sam asked genuinely when they both were on the plane ready for their next destination.

"I took your advice-"

"Wait, wait. You took my advice?" Sam smiled widely.

"Yeah I took your advice," Bucky said sharply. "And I saw my soulmate, but I can't remember anything about her."

"You know that's just part of the gimmick. You'll figure out a way, Buck," he said sincerely, standing up.

Bucky couldn't be sure. If he dragged this out for too long, there was a possibility that you would find out who he was and never want to meet him. He wouldn't blame you for that.

---

You felt like you were floating in clouds the whole day. For your entire life, you had seen people meet their person, and as you got older, you realized that the chances of you not having that were becoming greater than actually meeting them.

You didn't know what had changed, but you spent the entire day trying to come up with a plan to finally meet the handsome man you saw in your dreams.

You couldn't remember much. You tried to write or sketch him when you woke up, but all you got was blue eyes.

You wondered if you appeared to him in the same clothes you slept in, and if so, maybe you could fold a note in your pocket. You weren't sure you would even be able to remember it was there. Either way, it was worth a try.

The following night you were so excited you were certain you weren't going to be able to sleep, but you managed, and sure enough there was your broody man.

He gave a wave. His lips twitched up slightly, brightening all of his sharp features.

You reached into the pocket of your sweatshirt. You didn't know why, but you had the longing to do so, and you pulled out a small sheet of paper.

You stepped closer to the man, and placed the paper in his palm.

Y/N, Y/L/N, Your Address

Bucky didn't know how he managed to remember all of that once he woke up. He stared down at the scribbled piece of paper in wonder. Could it really be?

You were probably better off without him. He had not been a good man for most of his life, and you deserved more than him.

That's how Sam found him, sitting on the floor lost in thought, the paper scrunched in his fist.

Bucky relaxed his hand so his friend could see the writing. Sam blew out air, and sat down in front of him.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked as gently as possible.

"She deserves so much better than me."

"You can't decide that for her, Buck. You've kept her waiting long enough." Sam stood up, but spoke once more. "I'll get the plane ready if you change your mind. I think we both deserve a detour."

----

You were on pins and needles the whole day. You truly wondered if your man got the message or not. You could just vaguely remember holding his hand, which means you must have given the paper, but you couldn't be sure. You were just willing someone to knock on your door.

Yet, as the day passed you grew less and less confident. If he remembered the note, surely he would have tracked you down by now. Unless he didn't actually want to track you down. Your thoughts were a swirling mess.

You didn't have any dreams that night. You woke up in cold sweat, a sinking feeling forming in your stomach. You felt nauseous. Was it you who ruined everything? Maybe he knew who you were already and decided to pass.

You weren't sure you had the energy to get up and go to work, but you forced yourself to start moving. Your thoughts were only going to get worse.

----

The two men were quite far from the states and Bucky couldn't stop thinking as they made the long trek. For once, these thoughts were not dark flashbacks, they were a bit hopeful. What if she accepted him?

He felt bad that he couldn't sleep. He desperately wanted to see the girl of his dreams, but it just wasn't going to happen. Even Sam kept unusually quiet.

When they finally landed, it was evening, and the pair parted ways. Bucky would finish the journey alone and he was a nervous wreck, even though all of his emotions remained masked.

When he arrived at the address, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door... except there was no answer. He considered his options. He could have messed up the address, or maybe you gave him a fake one. What was he supposed to do now?

He was so lost in thought, he didn't even notice you pulling in.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you saw the handsome man standing on your doorstep. All of the dreams you had forgotten came rushing forward.

"Hi," you greeted timidly. He was huge up close, definitely taller than you. He wore mostly black, leather gloves on his hands. His features were sharp and familiar from the dream.

He flashed a nervous smile that only lasted a second before his face went blank once more, "I was worried I had the wrong place."

"Yeah, sorry, I was at work," you said, shuffling a bit as the silence consumed you. You had dreamt of this moment, literally, yet you didn't know what to say.

"I'm Bucky," he said, his tone much softer as he looked at you, soaking you in.

"It's great to finally meet you. I'm Y/N, but you know that," you blushed. "Do you want to come in? I can make dinner or we can order something?"

"Okay," he nodded, following you inside. You realized he was very stern and very observant. Combined with your quiet and shy personality, you were quite a match.

"Do you want something to drink?" you asked from the kitchen, pulling ingredients to throw something together for you both to eat.

"No, but thanks." Bucky sat on the stool by the island unsure of what to say or do, but he enjoyed watching you. There was something very positive about you and your home. It felt good.

"Can I ask about the gloves?" you ask curiously, throwing some chicken in a hot pan.

It seemed like you didn't know who he was. He slowly pulled off his gloves, revealing his metal hand.

"Woah, cool," you said, moving closer. "Can I touch it?"

Bucky furrowed his brows, "I guess."

You couldn't help yourself. It was so smooth and shiny, and you giggled happily.

"I guess you can't feel it," you said, reaching for his flesh hand and tracing just like you were on the metal.

He couldn't have been happier to have the stupid arm at that moment. He loved hearing your laugh, and feeling your fingertips gave him goosebumps. His shadowed mind seemed almost calm in your presence, and he knew just from being around for a short time that you were going to be his addiction.

You dropped his hand, meeting his beautiful blue eyes. Your lips quirked automatically, and you were relieved to know the tension was finally broken.

----

A/N: aw yay I love this. Here's part 2 :))

[scarlettriot]

Stood Up

Pairing: Sero/F!Reader

Summary: When you find your dating making out with someone else at a Halloween party, Hanta swoops in and reclaims your evening, rekindling an old flame.

Contains: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Reader, Astronomy/Greek Lore Nerd Sero, Old flame

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Demi Problems, Praise/Smidge of Degradation, Name-calling (slut & whore), Pet names (Love, good girl, pretty girl), Car Sex, F Masturbation, Oral M Receiving (Road Head) I think that's everything

A/N: This took me much longer than I expected. It's also my first time writing Sero. Given the season, I decided to add a touch of Halloween and costumes to this one.

If you'd like to read other's in the Stood Up series, here are the links:

Stood Up - Bakugo - WC 3,502

Stood Up - Kirishima - WC 3,612

Stood Up - Kaminari - WC 2,461

Word Count Starting Below: 3,494

Denki Kaminari's annual Halloween bash was in full swing by the time Hanta had arrived. He'd come straight from patrol, wrapping himself up in his own tape making a half assed mummy costume for himself. Not like anyone would notice with the flashing colored lights, loud music, and abundance of liquor.

However, Hanta didn't even make it up to the double glass front doors of Denki's home. Not before doing a double take at the very familiar pirate that ran by him.

"Y/N?" You stopped allowing him the chance to catch up to you, "Holy shit, it is you, when the hell did you get back?"

Three years you'd been gone, working in America. Time differences and busy schedules made it so the two of you barely kept in touch. It was a shame, Hanta thought, considering how close the two of you used to be.

"I- uh- just a few weeks now. I heard you were helping out with the disaster relief after that storm."

It had to be his eyes playing tricks on him, the funny colors of the dancing lights were what made your cheeks look wet, right? Those couldn't have been tears.

"I was, yeah, but I got back yesterday. I didn't know-"

"Get the hell outta here!" His head snapped back towards the front of the house, just in time to see Eijiro, dressed in an impressive werewolf costume, literally throw someone out of the party. The guy drunkenly stumbled off, Eijiro walking over towards where Hanta was standing with you. "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded while Hanta tried to piece together what'd happened. "Sorry, it took me a second to find the bastard. Do ya wanna come back in? I'll make sure he leaves."

"No, Eijiro, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home."

The wolfman frowned but understood. "We'll have a smaller party for ya! Just the gang as a welcome home! You know Denki will look for any excuse to throw a party." He turned his gaze on Hanta. "A mummy, really?"

"You've been a damn werewolf for the last two years! You don't get to give me crap."

Eijiro poked the fuzzy pointed red ears carefully set into his spiky hair. "Mina and I worked real hard on this costume... seemed like a waste to only wear it once."

"We both know you haven't just worn those once, big man."

That got a chuckle out of you while all Eijiro could do was shrug and try to hide a shit-eating grin.

He asked you again if you'd like to stay and once more you said you were going to just head home. It was when you specifically said you were going to be walking home that Hanta spoke up offering to drive you back to your home since it was Halloween and people were creeps.

You were a damn pro hero but he still didn't feel right about just letting you walk home alone.

When you agreed he told Eijiro he'd be back soon and walked over with you to his car.

>>><<<

A part of you missed the old station wagon Hanta used to drive, not that this BMW he now drove wasn't absolutely amazing, you just sort of missed the comfort of the old car.

He waited until he'd reached the end of Denki's long, winding driveway to finally speak. "So, you wanna tell me what happened back there, or am I just supposed to pretend like Kiri didn't kick someone out on your behalf?"

"You could probably just ask Kiri and he'd tell you."

"I could, but, I'd like to hear it from you."

You knew you could tell him, there was nothing you couldn't tell Hanta. There was once a time when the man knew every single detail about your life. Sure, time and distance had put a strain on that relationship but you were back now. There was no reason why you couldn't at least start rebuilding what you and Hanta once had.

"Y/N, if you don't wanna say anything-"

"I was just casually seeing this guy. You know me and dating, how we don't always work out." You said abruptly and he quit talking, "And so, we weren't like official but we said we'd go to this party together. Well, I got here and went looking for him and found him making out with one of Hawks' sidekicks. I got a little upset when he noticed me and, well, he just said he found someone better."

Hanta actually stopped the car, pulled off to the side of the road, threw it in park, and looked right at you because he knew what found someone better meant exactly. You'd used those words in high school when that guy from Shiketsu that you'd been seeing got pissed off that you wouldn't put out and ended it with you. You went to his dorm crying because he 'found someone better', is what you told him. It took him a few hours to get the truth out of you.

You'd always been the kind of person to love with your entire heart but sexually, you'd confessed that you felt different from all the other kids your age back then. Not having the same urges and desires that everyone else seemed stricken with.

"Hanta, it's fine, really. Kiri heard the whole thing and, well, you saw what happened."

"Doesn't make it right! So, you went on a couple dates with a guy, that doesn't mean he just gets to expect you to put out for him! Even if you weren't demi, no one gets to just assume they deserve sex."

His lips were pressed in a narrow line, nostrils flared once in annoyance. He was usually so calm and laid back that you thought it rather cute when he got overprotective. "It's alright, Hants, really."

He still gave you a look that said he disagreed but then shook his head, dropping the subject for now at least.

"Still like those late-night drives?"

"I love them."

"Good."

Hanta waited for a car to pass and whipped the car in the other direction.

It wasn't long before he had the windows rolled down, conversations filling in the blanks of lost time, in between belting out choruses of your favorite songs. Minutes slipped by the further he drove, you lost track of both time and kilometers, letting him tell you all about the ridiculous antics the group had been up to.

Eventually, you caught the scent of salty air and even in the dark, you had a pretty good idea where Hanta was going. He followed a winding road, making two left turns and then a right leaving you on a stretch of road that paralleled the ocean.

You let your head fall against the seat, eyes falling shut and inhaling that wonderful smell you missed so much. Hanta had just one hand lazily on the wheel, his elbow resting out the open window, a relaxed smile was illuminated in soft orange lights off his dash.

You let your head roll onto his shoulder, not as easily done without the bench seat in his station wagon but it worked nonetheless. "Thanks."

His free hand came to rest on your knee, "Anytime."

He turned the wheel, pulling over and parking in front of a small beach access that you guys had found at 3 in the morning five years prior. Hanta kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the car to avoid them being sand-filled and you did the same with the knee-high boots purely because you longed to feel the sand between your toes.

The wooden planks were worn, parts buried beneath the sand until eventually, none remained. Breaking waves flooded your ears and you made a run for them! Before you could reach the lapping water though, tape had wound around your middle and yanked you backward.

"Not happening!" Hanta said firmly. "Last time I let you talk me into late-night swimming we didn't have a change of clothes either and we both got so sick! I think I might have actually died without Bakugo's soup!"

You chuckled, remembering being nineteen and curled up with Hanta on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you all shared for nearly a week. The sniffles didn't cease for almost three weeks.

"Okay, okay, no swimming." You flopped back down into the sand, his tape still attached meaning the cellophane hero was pulled down with you. "Tell me about the stars then, Hants. Who's out tonight?"

Astronomy was a hobby of Hanta's you learned about after moving into the dorms your first year. It wasn't uncommon to find him out on the roof most nights, laying on his back and looking up into the clear night sky littered with twinkling stars, usually with a joint pressed between his lips. It became almost a habit for him to grab you on his way up, pulling you along because you were more than happy listening to him tell you about each constellation and the stories behind them.

It was around this time of year, in your final year of high school; somewhere between him recalling the greek mythos of Aries and Sagittarius that you noticed your heart beating a little faster. You realized something had shifted between the two of you, and, holy shit, was this what it felt like to have a crush! When the hell did that happen?

You'd entrusted everything to Hanta back then, and now, laying in the sand shoulder to shoulder while he talked about Draco, that familiar feeling stirred again. You remembered what it was supposed to be like when you weren't forcing it for some random guy. How simple it was supposed to be.

You inclined on an elbow and he stopped mid-sentence. "Eh, everything alright?" You nodded but he looked anything but convinced, mirroring your position and asking you again.

It was easy for you to lean forward, to brush your lips against his for the first time in three years. And, when you pulled away, he looked about as shocked as he had the night you'd done it when you were eighteen.

"You- you still like me?"

When you left for America, you'd both agreed to put a pause on your sort of relationship. Free to date and screw whomever you pleased because three years was a long time and it just seemed like a fair decision to make. The realization that he might now have someone else special in his life dawned on you...

"Yeah but I totally understand if things are different now and I shoulda asked- oof!"

He kissed you so hard you toppled back into the sand, quick pecks, one right after another, ending them with a long one that nearly left you breathless.

"I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to make you feel awkward about things or make you think I expected something. I thought that maybe since we didn't talk for a while your feelings might have changed."

"I can say with confidence they haven't."

"Thank fuck." He groaned and captured your lips in another searing kiss.

It was easy to lift his shirt off, the shreds of tape that remained were now covered with gritty sand that clung to your fingers as you traced the chest and torso you knew so well. Gliding over defined muscles, lingering on old scars and mapping out new ones he'd collected in your time apart.

His own hands were busy flicking open the brass fastenings of your corset, huffing about it being so much more difficult to get to your chest and something about it being very unfair.

By the time he'd undone the last one, bright headlights shown across the beach. "Shit."

Giggling ensued from the walkway and you both sighed, at least it wasn't the police or a hero patrol. Hanta gathered his shirt and ran back to his car with his hand in yours.

"I thought our days of being caught were over."

"At least it wasn't Mr. Aizawa this time."

A chill ran down your spine remembering the night and the lecture you'd received when your teacher had caught Hanta sneaking out of your room early one morning.

"So, uh, do you still plan on going to Denki's party?" You asked innocently enough but Hanta knew you far too well.

"I think I'm gonna miss it this year." His hand found a home on your upper thigh. "Apparently, you and I have a lot of catching up to do. Lost time to make up for and all that."

"Too bad you don't have that old station wagon anymore. If you did, we wouldn't have to wait to get back."

Dark eyes glanced over at you not so subtly parting your legs.

"I dunno. It's not too often I travel in the backseat of my own car but I've been told it's pretty roomy. Lots of legroom."

Your hand ran over your legs, dipping down to lightly brush your more sensitive parts, thankful you opted for the thin pair of black leggings rather than the dark skinny jeans. Your fingers danced again and this time you let a soft moan pass your lips. "Eyes on the road, Hants."

"That's a little hard to do when I've got you spread out in the passenger's seat." He grabbed your free hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "You've got me distracted, filthy little woman."

You appreciated him testing the waters, a subtle way of checking if you liked those nicknames he used only in private with you, giving you a chance to protest if your likes had changed. They were one's that only felt right coming from him and you were eager to hear more.

Forgoing your own high, you leaned over the center console as best you could, undoing his belt first, followed quickly by his zipper letting his strained cock be free.

His grip tightened on your leg when you kissed the tip of him. "Just like old times, huh?"

A chuckle turned quickly into a moan, taking him in your mouth, pushing yourself further on his cock, fighting your gag reflex to get him down your throat. Hanta reclined his seat further, giving you more room to work with.

Your legs clenched tighter with every groan you pulled from him, wiggling your hips in the seat, letting a hand fall back between your own legs. There was an attempt of a moan around his cock when his fingers coiled in your hair. "Such a good slut. Keep fuckin' goin'." He let you continue at your own speed, needing to focus as best he could on the road rather than what you were doing but, damn, you were making that increasingly difficult.

He wasn't stopping you though. He rarely did. You'd sucked him off on countless drives before and only stopped when- "That's it." He lifted you off him by your hair at the same time he pulled off the road. There was a convenient turn-off, hidden by overgrown brush you noticed before he shut off the headlights.

Hanta took you by the chin, smearing drool. "Backseat, pretty girl." He reached into the glove box and pulled out a foil wrapper, "What do you say we test out that legroom?"

He wait to watch your smile grow wide before crawling into the back because he had to be the first to go if this had any chance of working. Once situated, pants under his thighs, he patted his lap for you to climb over.

You slid easily onto his lap, hands traveling up and over his shoulders, kissing hard while you rocked your hips against impossibly hard length.

There was so much comfort in the familiarity of him. It wasn't awkward to fall back into rhythm with Hanta, to remember that he loved the feeling of your nails dragging down his chest. And he was just as eager to get your shirt off, reach your breasts he'd missed so much, and get his tongue on your nipples.

Your head tipped backward, loving the pace he set, hips bouncing creating the perfect tug on your nipples between his teeth.

"Love, if I promise to buy you a new pair, can I rip these damn leggings? They're just so thin and-"

"Please." Your breathy moan had him smirking and with a single grunt the leggings were ruined, cool air from the vents had only a moment to touch your bare ass before Hanta's hands reclaimed it.

There was no way he hadn't felt your arousal before ripping your clothes off, you soaked through your panties and leggings, you knew that, but that didn't stop him from commenting on how soaked you were now on his fingers. "Want me inside you, whore? I think you do."

You nodded with a whimper and he slipped a finger in. "Hants, noo- I- I want your cock, please."

"You're gonna take my fingers like a good little slut first." You clenched at the words falling from his mouth. "So fuckin' tight you can barely take a finger. How'm I supposed to fit in here if you can even take a single finger? Need you to loosen up, alright." He pushed another finger in, scissoring the two inside you.

"This gonna make you cum? You need this bad, don't you? Tell me. Tell me how bad you need to cum."

"I want it. Please, please, I need it. I'm so close," You babbled and ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling it with one hand on his cock. In an instant, his fingers had been replaced with this dick. Sticky fingers on your ass helping you ease down on him with a hiss.

"Fuck," Hanta let out a throaty chuckle, "You still fuckin' feel the absolute best." He dropped a kiss between your breasts, letting you adjust to his girth. "Perfect. Good girl. Such a fuckin' good little slut."

He wasn't about to last long. Not once you started bouncing up and down on him, your tits right in front of his face.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get you home, had to fucking tease me in the damn car." He held onto the fat of your ass, pulling you along him and slamming you down hard.

"Kinda pathetic how desperate you are. Fuck. Kinda hot too."

When the top of your head bumped the roof of the car, he scooted lower, trying to give you as much room to ride him however you pleased.

"What do you need? You wanna cum, don't you, pretty girl, what do you need?"

"Faster, faster please."

Hanta shifted even lower, making you grab onto the two headrests while he thrust his hips up into you at a rapid speed. His thumb on your clit was the additional stimulation you needed to fall over the edge. Nails clawing at the black leather as he continued to moan below you now chasing his own release.

You stayed poised above him, using every last bit of strength to stay upright until his mouth was rambling and his cock pulsed inside of you. Fingers bruising your skin before holding your pelvis snuggly against his.

He was bent in a way that looked entirely uncomfortable and yet he still smiled so widely. Reaching up to brush hair out of your eyes, "You okay?"

"Perfects, Hants. A little sore but I'm sure you are too." He moved off his lap, letting him slip out of you with a groan, "Is your neck gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Having you back, love, is more than worth a little bit of a neck cramp."

As he tied a knot in the condom, depositing it into a plastic bag he had tucked away under his seat, Hanta raised a brow, "Love, really, are you alright? Please, tell me if I hurt you at all."

"No! I'm good, why?"

"You're sitting silly."

You were sitting a little odd, perched on your knees rather than sitting on your ass because the leather was chilly and you told Hanta as much making him laugh. "Wait, I think I can help." He leaned back to the front of the car, flicking a button making it glow. Once he tucked himself back in his pants he hopped out of the car and you could see him rummaging in his trunk through the rear window.

"I keep forgetting to take this out from our camping trip a couple months ago. Guess it turned out to be a good thing." He laid the blanket down over the passenger's seat, declaring that should help a bit.

You wrapped the now toasty warm blanket around your bottom half while Hanta drove back towards the city, your head on his shoulder, his hand on your thigh.

"So, shopping tomorrow? I believe I owe you a pair of leggings..."

"It's a date."

[kyberphilosopher]

Smile

Word Count: 3467 Requested: yes. Based off ‘505′ Warnings: strong hints to sexual disposition. Spoilers if you squint.

“I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck... I did last time I checked.” -Arctic Monkeys, ‘505′.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

With hoarse breath and unwavering eyes, you look up to the stars as you speak. “So, you’re really going to do it then?”

“I have to,” you hear him say. His voice has gotten far more mature and calm since the first time you’d heard him speak. Still angry and determined, but in an intelligent, adult way. Eren is a more capable person now. The only thing left to do is wait and see if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing. 

“What do you think are the chances of winning?” you question. A shooting star whizzes across the sky at that very moment, and it’s gone before you can think of a wish. 

You turn around to face him, but his eyes are already on you. Once upon a time, Eren’s eyes were emerald and teal and deep. Now they’re paler. They are cold and steady as a byproduct of who he’s become. It’s hard not to wonder what he’s thinking about when he looks at you like this, especially since he��s become harder to read over the years.

At first, Eren was one of the most insufferable people you’d ever met. He acted out so often, it was hard to see him as another person of intelligent life. You mostly just minded your business through your cadet years, usually hanging around Reiner, who was also difficult to see as intelligent life. Sometimes you and Eren would argue, but it was never passionate. You just had different world views. 

Things got better when you found out what Eren really was. Since you hadn’t made top ten, you could only choose between the Garrison Regiment, or the Scout Regiment. And with Eren’s newly discovered power showing the promise of hope, you decided on the Scouts. He liked that. 

After that, it was hard not to mature at the same time as he. Eren often blamed himself for the death and carnage that surrounded the regiment. You were solely responsible for the passing of your best friend. And after everything that happened with the government, almost dying at Shiganshina- you knew you couldn’t stand this much longer. With your relationship with Eren still budding in its early and steamy stages, he was the only one you told of your desertion. You abandoned the corps, finding a small, abandoned farm within wall Maria to hide out in. 

Eren was too tired and sick of everything to think you were being cowardly. He wanted to leave too. Maybe come with you. But Eren had plans in the works that he couldn’t leave alone. He visited you less and less. Luckily you never made a fuss. 

And now Eren wants to end the world, to save the world. How does he expect you to react to this?

“I just thought I should see you,” Eren replies. You know he’s deflecting your question. You’re not stupid. 

You nod slowly, blinking as you think. “Am I going to die?”

Your companion crosses his arms calmly. “Yes,” he tells you. 

There it is. 

“You know I can’t support you in this, right?” you tell Eren, equally as calm. 

He only replies after a moment, also in deep thought. “I know.”

You look back up to the sky, sighing out through your nose. “Why did you come, Eren? Did you want me to tell you that I think you’re doing the right thing? Or was it because you need to let out some anger? I wonder.”

“I did want to see you.”

“Do you still?”

Silence. 

“Yes.”

“And I suppose there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“No.”

The stars are glittering with pastel hues, like a rainbow, or kaleidoscope. Each one is a different size, bordering on different shapes, all fusing and melting together like your idea of heaven. You can barely even see the midnight color of the sky through all them. It is beautiful, but it’s also bitter. Everything is bitter, here. 

“I didn’t make myself any dinner yet,” you say. “Couldn’t think of anything.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

When she was alive, Eren’s mother would make a soup for the family. It was creamy, hot, filled with meat and cheese at the bottom. Eren never liked soup, but he did love that dish. She was always sure to make extra for him, so that he could enjoy it for several days. And although it wasn’t until after she was gone that Eren realized he rarely ever thanked her for it, it was still one of the warmest memories Eren had. 

He fills your wooden bowl with it, being awfully generous. He knows that even though you haven’t eaten much in the last few years, you too had grown fond of the soup. He knows no matter how slowly you force it down, you are enjoying it. It burns the roof of your mouth every time, but you’ve never cared. All that matters is the creamy sauce, and the cow cooked to perfection. 

You stare at the fireplace beside you, flames cackling and licking upward. Eren sets the bowl in front of you, and takes the seat on the other side. You know he sets his long hair behind his shoulders. You’re already prepared. From your pocket, you produce a stretchy brown hair tie on the verge of snapping, handing it to him. 

“Thanks,” he says, even though this routine has happened however many times he’s seen you. 

“You’re welcome.”

The soup is as amazing as usual. You’re willing to bet Eren makes it even better than his mother did, but you dare not say it aloud. It’s creamy, perfectly seasoned. It goes down your throat, still steaming. 

“Does Mikasa know about this?” you question, taking one more delicious bite. 

“No. None of them do,” Eren answers. “Armin will figure it out soon.”

“You want me to kill ‘em?”

Eren shakes his head. To a lot of people, this would be taken as a joke. But this is nowhere near it. Your tone is too casual, too low for it to be humor of any kind. And the way the man across from you reacts- he’s thinking the same thing. 

“No.”

“How are they, then?”

Eren thinks as he takes another bite, the warmth creeping up his chest sweetly. “They’re alright for now. I don’t know for how much longer. I can’t see everything.”

“Can you see who’s next?”

He squints at his bowl as if he were angry, but his eyebrows barely move. “Sasha.” 

Sasha. She was always a good presence to have around. While she seemed like the type of person who would annoy you, it was hard to hate her. And you admired her keen intuition anyway. 

“Will you give her something for me?”

Eren nods. Then you both go back to eating for a few seconds, basking in the orange glow from the flames. 

“How are things here?” he questions after a minute. 

“The same,” you tell him. “I think the cow might die soon.”

Some people might reply with condolences, or sympathy. But your lover does not, and you do not expect him to. “I’ll get you a new one,” he says flatly, almost like a promise. You nod once.

Despite the atmosphere which can only be described as bitter, you’re glad to see Eren again. You’re glad that he’s alive, and as alright as he can be. The bed is always colder without him, heated up only by your lingering fingers that you pretend are his every other night. Whenever he leaves an article of clothing behind, usually on purpose, you hold off on washing it so it can smell like him for you as long as possible. Then there are the hair ties you keep either in your pocket or on your wrist, specifically for him. The razors in your cabinet he often didn’t even bother using. 

Even with the sullen demeanor that had managed to overtake both of you, there was at least one thing you cared about in the world still. Maybe it wasn’t the most conventional kind of caring, or the healthiest coping mechanism. But it was still caring. And all that you cared about was him. 

You knew you weren’t Eren’s first priority. You were probably second, or third. It didn’t bother you. Eren’s head was one of the first things lost when the truth was presented to him. It came back coldly and sternly, in contrast to how previously hot and impatient it had been. But by then your head had also grown colder and sterner. In simpler terms, Eren did care for you. He did love you. But he would consider letting you die if it meant achieving what he set out to do, and you knew this. 

Across the table, Eren lifts his head to look up at you as he chews slowly. The burning meal slides down his throat easily, albeit painfully. It doesn’t even register with him, his piercing eyes slowly gaining a glint from the fire light. 

You meet his eyes after a few seconds, feeling them on you. You don’t say a word, don’t even give a questioning look. You just hold him patiently, which is something the two of you find yourself doing often. 

“You can’t stop it,” Eren speaks, looking you dead in the eyes with a steady gaze. There is love behind his eyes, far behind the anger, but you can tell from the tone of voice he is trying to tell you something as if it were an order. Your lips part slightly from the intensity radiating from your lover, who doesn’t move a muscle. “You’ll be free soon.” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Dinner ends. Eren helps clean up the dishes for you and goes to get water from your well so you can clean easier. You already know from the way his thumb brushed against your own when you took the bowls that you’ll likely be bent over the sink in a few minutes, which you don’t mind, but you wonder if he’ll be willing to be softer than usual as an apology for what he’d said earlier. 

He’d meant to scare you. You’re intelligent enough to figure that out. Even though you don’t scare easy, and you didn’t even give an extreme reaction, the look in Eren’s eyes had made your heart drop to your stomach. Sometimes you forget that Eren sees everything. Then he says something like that to remind you in the most memorable way. 

The wooden door opens and closes behind you. Boots scuff the ground for a few seconds, drawing closer and closer as something in you sparks with anticipation, as it always does. A pail of water hits the surface beside you, partially sloshing over the sides, shining silver in the moonlight from the tall window in front of you. Finally, ultra hot hands slide around your waist and push gently but tightly against where your ribs diverge. 

A jaw leans down on your right shoulder, chin poking against your collarbone. Locks of hair brush against your own, just as the hand on the left runs across your side to finally put a small band in your pocket. 

“I did miss you,” Eren’s low voice seemingly growls, his chest rumbling softly against your back. 

“I was thinking about you,” you admit with monotone, knowing your lover can read through it like as easily as a knife slices through skin. 

“I hope I didn’t worry you,” he says, though you can also read through his own tone. He probably didn’t care about worrying you. He definitely doesn’t still. 

“You didn’t.”

You place a both bowls in the sink, running your fingers over the dirty spoons. Eren’s orbs follow your movement. You can feel his chin change positions ever so slightly in the coming seconds. 

“Can you pass me the rag?” you ask, eyes focused on a piece of food on the spoon that doesn’t even exist. 

In response, Eren doesn’t pass you anything. Only his right hand gives you any kind of acknowledgement, passing from on your ribs to down lower. His fingertips skin over the erogenous zone under the waistband of your undergarments. 

“I worried about you,” Eren murmurs boldly. The hot fingertips pass under the cloth finally, pricks of stubble on his jaw scratching your neck and shoulder as he shifts. “I wanted you to be okay.” His left hand raises to grasp the breast above it. Slowly at first, then firmly, like a warning. Everything is a warning with him. 

Your head lulls back uncontrollably. The back of your hair matts up as it rolls against his own shoulder. 

“I said you worried me,” your partner grumbles. “Did you hear me?”

“No,” you lie lowly, refusing to let your voice shake despite the shiver in your throat. 

“Mm,” Eren hums in condescending understanding. A force presses against your core, which has turned burning hot and ice cold at the same time. The force pulls away, a string of something smooth and slimy following it that makes a sound draw from your lips. It’s high pitched, weak, and unstoppable. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so associated with Eren. 

His hand gives your breast a firm squeeze, soreness blossoming from the center. Your back arches quickly and returns lax against him, though now something pokes against your bottom that makes your eyes pop open with a new alertness. Eren’s hand gives you no time again. From your chest, it flies to your throat, holding it back with soft strictness as the other finally dips into the hot pool between your hips. 

“I worried about you.”

A strangled groan releases from between your lips again, this time fully carried up through the air. To Eren, it must sound like nothing more than music, or background noise. 

Thick cylinders pump inside you to the knuckle. They feel better than your own. They always have. 

It feels good. Full. Tight and fast and like the inside of you is quivering under the weight of something that you can’t see or hear. Eren is like a blanket supporting you from falling over, keeping you upright with his grip and his fingers buried inside of you. Prodding every angle, every spot. Not necessarily romantically, but still lovingly. He has always had this goal during intimacy. Nothing matters but communicating to you just how close he wants to be. 

“Eren,” you choke, a dribble of spit sliding from the corner of your lips. 

“Again,” he hisses in response. His fingers hit a tight spot, making every muscle in your body clench at the same time. 

You don’t say another word, your mouth hanging partially open as you focus on everything around you. And it’s all Eren Jaeger. His smell, his growls, his voice, his breathing, his chest, his muscles, his hair, his anger, his bitterness, his intelligence, his determination. It’s overwhelming. It reminds you of getting swept in one of those waves at the ocean he described to you. He’s yours. No- more likely, you’re his. End of story. 

“I said again.”

“Eren,” you moan.  

His head nuzzles into your neck comfortingly, his fingers pushing faster and harder. You can feel how warm you are, never mind how slick. And the way your own body holds around his digits every time he pulls away is enough to make you all the more warm and slick. 

But then...

What is he doing?

He had said��“you’ll be free soon”. And yet, here he is, gripping you tightly as he forces you into the corner of submitting. And yes, it is hot. It arouses you as it always has. But something about it makes your stomach turn into a knot of unpleasantness, in contrast to the other one of liquid pleasure. 

“Eren,” you strain, squirming against him. 

Eren speeds up again. A grunt falls from his own mouth from his own power, and you know he’s getting off almost as much as you are. It doesn’t stop feeling good. Feeling euphoric. 

It’s getting rougher. Rougher and harder and faster, more intense. 

“Eren.”

Another gruff moan from him. 

“Eren! Stop! Stop!”

Eren’s palm softens away at once. It lifts away, his eyes opening and his hand stilling inside of you. He watches you shake as you gaze up to the ceiling, wide eyed. Your thighs sputter, entire body twitching. You didn’t cum. 

His eyes trail over you. You’ve worked up a steady sweat glistening and glowing, shivering and shaking and quaking because of him in the best way. You’re his. His partner, his friend, his ally he knows for a fact he can rely on.

“C-can we... Eren...” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Drips of water dribbling down Eren’s temple. One of your hands are threaded in his brunette locks, holding them back so you can have an uninterrupted view. The other hand is dabbing cloth against his forehead and hairline, bathing him softly. 

He’d gone a while without bathing again. You could tell. Eren’s eyes are glued to yours, deep teal memorizing all the flecks in your own as if he hadn’t a million times over. 

Eren loves you. Dearly. He’d travel all seven hours and forty five minutes just to tell you that. He doesn’t know what made you stop earlier. He doesn’t ask. But he’s not mad. Overall, Eren understands that it doesn’t matter what you asked to stop for. You give the word, he obeys. Not because he has to, but because he loves you. 

Still, he knows something is wrong. You don’t show it. You’re steady, calm, mature, apathetic as always. But in the pit of Eren’s stomach, something brews. A warm, strange feeling of intuition and omniscience. 

“You look very pretty today,” Eren ventures, wondering only of your response. “Did I tell you that?”

Your eyes squint. “Thank you,” you reply back. 

The cloth continues to rub against his skin, cleaning something that probably doesn’t even exist. Dirt, maybe. Eren’s stopped taking care of his skin in the past few years. 

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes squint again. This time, they gloss over with sharp wetness like glass. The eyebrows crease like a break, your bottom lip trembling as you suck it between your teeth. 

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. But your lover wasn’t expecting this. 

Eren hates when you cry. He can remember the first time he’d seen it, but not the most recent. You didn’t cry often- you were strong. Crying over something as useless and flimsy as emotions didn’t seem worth it. So what was this for? What were you about to make Eren break down inside over?

Your hand falls limply from his forehead. Shoulders hunch over in defeat, staring down at the floor as your hair covers over your face. And then the sniffles come, choked out coughs like sobs. 

Eren can see the lightest of bruises he’d left on you from earlier, but you’d never had a problem with it before. No, it was something else. But what?

Silent, your teeth grit together as you wince, tears streaming down your face inexplicably. 

“Earlier w-when you,” you gulp, snot beginning to form, “when you- I did worry a-about you. I- I don’t know why I didn’t...”

You stumble forward. Eren stands from your bath tub to catch you as you slump against him tiredly. 

“I hate it when you go.”

Eren switches positions with you, pushing you down to sit on the edge of the tub. He takes the wet rag from your hand and holds your shoulder back so he can have a good look at you. Then the cloth dabs against your own forehead, just as you had done to him. 

“I hate it here,” you sigh, a single tear drop blurring your vision as it falls finally. 

Your lover moves the cloth from your head to your cheeks, smearing the wetness into your skin and away. They moisten and dry, your eyes red and shiny. Eren tilts your head up under your jaw, creasing his brows and using the towel to clean closer to your eyes. 

“If it helps,” he says, looking straight into your eyes, “you’re crying, but I still think you look pretty.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t help even a little, because you love him. 

A soft smile creeps to your lips, your hands dropping in between your thighs. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

No I didn’t reread this lmfao enjoy. Hope I did you justice anon

[camsthisky]

"you’re not alone . you’re stuck with me forever . sorry . ” + Jason and Dick (and anyone other family member)?

“Everyone okay?” Dick croaks as the dust and rubble settles around them. He’s lying on his back, kept still by something pinning his legs down. He doesn’t dare assess himself quite yet. “Hood? Batgirl?”

“Okay,” Cass says, and Dick watches as she stumbles over to him, looking dusty, but relatively alright. She kneels next to him with a frown. She meets his eyes—well, relatively since they’re both wearing masks—and asks, “Okay?”

Dick grimaces. “Not really.” Louder, he calls, “Red Hood?!”

“Here, here,” Jason says, coughing into his fist. He’s missing his helmet and there’s a gash sluggishly bleeding from his right cheek, smearing a trail of blood down his face. He’s also limping, but only slightly.

“Can you move?” Cass asks Dick as Jason pulls out his flashlight.

Dick winces at the sudden light, his mask having already automatically switched to night vision. He huffs. “Jay. Off.”

“Names.”

Dick scowls. “The light.”

“Deal with it,” Jason snaps. “My night vision isn’t working.”

Dick turns off his own night vision feature, if only to not be blinded by the damn flashlight if it passes over his eyes again.

That’s when Jason’s flashlight lands on where Dick is pinned.

“Crap,” Jason breathes.

“Can you move them?” Cass asks, sounding a touch more impatient, and Dick realizes that Cass has already asked once. “Your legs.”

“No,” says Dick, just barely trying. He’s tired, but he knows that time is up. He can’t get away with ignoring his own situation any longer. Probably shouldn’t have even waited this long. His legs are tingling from lack of blood flow, mixing with a sharp pain shooting through them both. Still he’s lucky, because—“I can still feel them, though.”

“We’ll lift,” Jason says to Cass, who nods. Dick closes his eyes and braces himself for the inevitable pain of rubble being lifted off his crushed legs.

“Hhh.”

The sounds he makes is nothing more than an agonized hissed through his teeth, and Dick can’t help the cold sweat that sweeps across his body in a slow wave as his siblings manage to move the slab of—wall, maybe? who knows, really—from where it’s crushing his poor legs.

Something taps against his shinbone and then his kneecap.

“Stop, stop, I feel it,” Dick gasps, bringing his legs up in a protective curl as pain throbs through most of his lower body. His left hip hurts like hell, and his every muscle, bone, and tendon feels like they’ve been squeezed and then flattened like a pancake. He rolls over onto his side so he can bring his knees up to his chest, to wait out the lingering intensity of the pain.

“Breathe,” Cass says.

Dick breathes.

He closes his eyes and blocks out everything and, again, just breathes. His siblings let him.

When he has a better grasp on his agony, Dick finally relaxes. The world filters back in. Cass is running fingers through Dick’s dusty hair (something she one hundred percent learned from Bruce, because only a select few know how much the motion tends to calm him down).

On the other hand, Dick blinks his eyes open to find Jason agitatedly pacing.

“The hell?” Jason murmurs, his flashlight whipping back and forth with his movements as he surveys their surroundings. “Did we get completely sealed in?”

Dick wishes desperately he would stop. Even without night vision, Jason’s impromptu strobe light effect is causing Dick’s head to ache. Instead of saying this, he hums contemplatively. “Wonder if there’s a signal this far down.”

Jason huffs, not slowing in the least. He’s searching for something, and dear god does Dick want him to find it already. “You’re the one with the comms in your ear. You try it.”

They’re in the sewers, is the thing. And while Bruce and Babs have designed the comms system to work incredibly well, even in the sewers, the signal still needs to be able to make it to the system in order to be functional.

With the three of them sealed in this place, seemingly with no way out, pretty deep in the sewer system where they had been disabling bombs throughout the city, Dick isn’t optimistic about their chances of getting a signal.

(They’d just been a few seconds too late for that last bomb, which unfortunately led them to their current circumstances.)

While Jason grumbles, Cass activates her emergency signal and the comms. She calls out, “Batman? Oracle?”

Jason shuts up for the five seconds before Cass looks between both Dick and Jason and shakes her head.

Dick lets out a slow exhale through his nose. He hadn’t really held out much hope for that anyways.

Jason groans. “Holy batcannoli, I can’t believe we’re stuck down here. And where’s my hecking helmet?!”

Cass helpfully points to the rubble sealing them in. Jason kicks a rock with a yell. Dick sighs.

“Well, at least you’re not alone down here,” Dick says as optimistically as he can—although, given the circumstances, it does fall a little flat.

Jason snorts. “Right. Sure, Batgirl is an asset, but you’re a sack of bruised bones right now. That’s not helpful in the slightest, Dickface.”

Dick’s eyelashes flutter of their own accord. He hums. “Too bad. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Sorry.”

“Dick,” Cass says, her fingers tracing lightly over his face. “Stay awake.”

“I am awake.”

“You’re starting to—” Cass pauses. Dick can’t see the look on her face, because somehow, his eyes have fully closed without his permission, and he can’t seem to find the strength to open them again. “—to slur.”

The sounds of Jason’s pacing stop. Silence rings loud in their sealed section of the sewers. Then, “Did he hit his head?”

“Not sure,” Cass answers.

“Dick,” Jason says, sounding quite a bit closer, like he’s maybe crouching down next to Cass or something—but Dick hadn’t heard him move, and Jason’s boots are too clunky to not make sound against the concrete. “Dick, did you hit your head?”

Dick’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t remember hitting his head. The only thing he clearly remembers about the blast is heavy pieces of rubble crushing his legs. “Maybe?”

“Great,” Jason says. He’s pulling out his I’m-rolling-my-eyes-at-your-ridiculous-incompetency voice. “So my bruised bones of a big brother probably also has a concussion. Just great.”

“It’s not his fault he’s injured,” Cass tells Jason. “He was disarming the bomb.”

Which means Dick took the brunt of the blast when it was remotely activated.

Dick really means to tack onto Cass’s statement, maybe tease Jason a little and try to reassure both his younger siblings that not everything is hopeless, because he’s the best big brother ever, of course.

Only, he can’t find the strength to open his mouth and talk. Instead, the voices around him become watery, distorted, and Dick’s head flares in pain.

When unconsciousness comes to take him, he doesn’t resist.

—

“—manage to even find us in the first place?” is the first thing Dick hears as he swims back to consciousness. Jason almost sounds relieved.

“The seismic device didn’t just affect the sewers,” someone replies. It takes a lot of effort for Dick to recognize it as Tim. “A couple buildings partially collapsed, and since we knew the three of you were down here, it was a good starting point to look when none of you would answer the comms.”

“Huh,” is all Jason says.

“Nightwing,” Bruce says, startling Dick from the dazed lull he’d been in as he listened to his brothers talking. He opens his eyes, blinking up bewilderingly at what he can see of Bruce’s face behind the cowl.

“B?” Dick murmurs. He doesn’t move, yet, from where’s curled on his side, but he feels an abortive twitch of his fingers at the reassuring sight of Batman. “‘S goin’ on?”

“What do you remember?”

Right. Bruce did not give easy answers. Life is a series of puzzles, Dick Grayson, fueled by none other than Bruce Wayne himself.

Dick frowns and casts his mind back. “The wall blew up,” he decides. “I got hurt?”

He’s only half sure about that last one, but considering his position on the ground, the throbbing in his head and hip, and Bruce’s concerned dad frown that’s taking over his Batman grimace, Dick thinks that he’s probably on the right track.

“Concussion,” Cass says, startling Dick when she pops her head over Bruce’s shoulder. “Also, ‘a sack of bruised bones.’”

That—sounds familiar. He thinks he remembers Jason saying something like that.

Bruce’s frown gets deeper. “Straighten your legs.”

“Please,” Dick tacks on for Bruce when he lacks the manners to be nice, basically on instinct at this point, even as he—slowly, and with a great deal of agony—does what Bruce tells him to do.

They go through a couple more tests, until finally Bruce, unhappy, deems, “We need to move you.”

Dick blinks when Bruce turns away to murmur something to one of the others. A conversation washes over him, and Dick can’t help but let himself tune it out. The noise settles as vague humming—indistinct and comforting.

“—two, three,” Bruce says as Dick’s entire vision goes white.

He only manages to come back to himself in increments.

There are arms holding him tight. Familiar murmurs in his ear. The comforting sound of Batman’s heavy cape brushing against concrete.

“—there, Chum,” Bruce is saying, and if Dick had the capability, he would have teased Bruce for pulling out both the concerned dad frown and the concerned dad voice in one night.

As it is, the only thing that comes out of his mouth when he opens it are harsh pants for air. Every step jostles him, and agony is his constant companion throughout the entire journey to the surface.

Somehow, Dick is still conscious when he’s laid down in the backseat of the batmobile. He’s grateful he’s not moving anymore, and carefully doesn’t think of the upcoming ride back to the Cave.

He only really starts to relax when Bruce settles the cape over him. Wrapped up inside it, Dick almost feels like he’s ten years old again. Batman’s has always felt like warmth and protection and home. This time is no different.

“Batgirl and Robin, keep Nightwing as still as possible. Red Hood, in the front. Start updating Oracle.”

“Why do they—”

“You’re too bulky, Hood. Me and Batgirl are smaller than you. It’s still going to be a tight fit, but it’s the most comfortable for everyone this way.”

“Whatever.”

“Enough. Car. Now.”

There’s lots of careful but hurried scrambling. Dick thinks he passes out a few times on the way back. He doesn’t remember much, either. Just bits and snatches here and there—His siblings talking to him, Bruce giving orders, Jason being snappy and unwittingly dragging Tim into an argument.

And then—he wakes up. A lot more clear-headed than he’d felt the last time he’d been conscious (though, that wasn’t saying much).

To Dick’s surprise, he’s on his side again, dressed in sweats with a pillow between his legs. He opens his eyes to the Wayne Manor living room, and—yes, he’s on the couch. The curtains are drawn, but it’s clearly sometime past sunrise.

Bruce is sitting cross-legged in front of him, reading a book.

“Bruce?” Dick calls, his voice still somewhat slurred. “Why’m I on the couch?”

“You started crying when I said you had to stay in the infirmary,” Bruce tells him, grabbing a bookmark and setting his book off to the side.

Dick frowns. He doesn’t remember that. Still, he manages to say, “You’re such a pushover.”

“How do you feel?”

Dick blinks a dozen times in a row, trying to assess his body and keep up with the change in subject. “Kinda woozy. My hip hurts a lot.”

“Hn.”

“Think I need to brush up on my Bat speak,” Dick murmurs. “Dunno what that one meant.”

Bruce hums again. “You’re incredibly lucky. We’ll need to be careful for the next few weeks.”

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?”

“Crush injuries to your legs and left hip. Not overly severe, and we managed to stabilize you once we realized you were in shock.”

Dick thinks about that for a second. “Concussion? I’m pretty sure I remember something about a concussion.”

“It’s mild,” Bruce tells him. “It was the shock that was the real problem.”

“Oh.” Dick sighs into the pillow under his head. “I’m tired.”

Bruce gives him a soft smile, just slight enough that if Dick hadn’t been so familiar with Bruce’s microexpressions, he would have thought he’d been mistaken. Fingers lightly card through his hair, and Dick’s eyes start closing of their own accord.

“Then sleep,” Bruce says.

Dick sleeps.