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starshine583 · 3 years

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New Girl on the Block (23)

(Welp, y’all, this is it. This is the last, pre-written chapter that I have written. From here on out we’re gonna have to rely strictly on my writing consistency and... I’m so sorry for that lol Because CLEARLY, if we’re on the last pre-written chapter, after having posted, like, three over the last month, we know that this isn’t gonna be good. BUT! I do have THIS chapter to give you! So please enjoy! And don’t forget to check out the mini series connected to this called Journal Entries!)

Ch.1 / Ch.22 / Ch.24 (ao3)

Chapter 23: How the Cards Fall

Marinette stared in horror at her former classmates, violently kicking herself for being so reckless. How could she forget that this was one of Alya and Nino’s favorite food carts too? She used to eat there with them all the time! She should have known better than to pick this place! Actually, she shouldn’t have picked anywhere to eat at all! Going to a place she used to enjoy meant going to a place where she used to hang out with her old friends, which meant eventually running into them, which meant- well - this! Oh, how could she be so stupid?

Maybe it won’t be so bad, she reasoned with herself before she could start hyperventilating. Maybe they’ll just roll their eyes and leave instead of making a scene.

But Alya was never one to back down from a (accidental) challenge. As soon as she realized her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her, a scowl etched itself onto her lips, and she started stomping in Marinette’s direction.

“It is you!” The red-head scoffed. “Oh, when I get my hands on you-”

Marinette flinched back, officially throwing breathing out the window. She looked at her current classmates and wondered what they would do if she ran, what they would think. Would they follow her or would they stay and talk with Alya? What if they started asking questions that Marinette couldn’t answer? What if Alya answered the questions before she could? Would they believe her? Was she going to have to find a new school again? What if Lila’s lies followed her there too? What if she never escaped Lila’s claims?

Suddenly, not breathing turned into breathing too fast, but before she could spiral further than gasping, a shadow passed over her.

It was Allan and Claude, coming to stand in front of her as a defense.

“Hey, woah!” Claude said, holding up his hands in a calming gesture. “Why don’t you back off a bit and tell us what’s got you so upset?”

A hand touched her shoulder lightly, and Marinette’s gaze snapped to Felix, who was now standing next to her. He met her eyes with a subtle raise of the eyebrows, and she knew what it meant.

“Are you alright?”

Marinette drew in a deep breath to steady herself and nodded, even though her insides felt like they were turning outwards at this point. Felix must have seen through her fib because his hand stayed on her shoulder as he looked back at Alya. His eyebrows were furrowed, which could be from his concern, but Marinette also knew curiosity when she saw it. He wants to know who these people are, and why they’re angry with her. And after everything she’s told him about her old school, he might be able to figure it out.

Alya briefly paused at the boys’ blockade, before raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

“So is this who you’re hiding behind now?” She asked, unimpressed. “Are these the new people you’ve managed to dupe?”

Marinette tensed, and Felix’s grip tightened on her shoulder. Whether that was a sign of support or his disgruntlement, she wasn’t sure.

“Are we supposed to know what that means?” Allegra, who had also come to stand next to Marinette, drawled.

“No.” Alya said. “Not yet, anyway. This one likes to wait until you’re in pretty deep before springing her trap.”

Marinette bit her lip, indignation rising in her chest. She didn’t deserve this. She hasn’t done anything wrong!

“Alya, that’s enough-” She tried to say, but Alya cut her off.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” The red-head snapped. “You don’t get to have a say anymore, not unless you’re willing to admit what you’ve done, what you really are.”

“Alya, come on.” Nino, who finally decided to join the conversation, coaxed. “L-Let’s just go. It’s not worth fighting over.”

Marinette might have been grateful had he not backed down right after when Alya shot him a glare.

“I’m going to assume you guys are her new classmates and friends.” Alya continued. “So let me tell you, as a former classmate and best friend, that this girl,” she pointed her finger accusingly at Marinette, “is a fraud.”

“That’s not true!” Marinette couldn’t help shouting.

Alya ignored her. “She makes herself look sweet and innocent by making you croissants or cookies and bringing you handmade gifts, but it’s all an act. All she really wants is the attention that the gifts bring, and when she doesn’t get it, she goes ballistic. I used to think she was the best thing in the world until a foreign exchange student came along and became more popular. Then she started stealing that person’s homework and ripping it up, or throwing her textbooks in the trash, or even tripping her down flights of stairs. One time we even caught her stealing personal items!”

“I didn’t do any of that!” Marinette insisted, more so to her friends than to Alya. “I told you she framed me!”

Alya scoffed. “You can’t even deny it anymore! Lila has all of the rude texts you’ve sent her, there were multiple witnesses to the tattered homework that was on your desk- myself included -and we all saw her take her family heirloom out of your locker.”

“That wasn’t a family heirloom! She literally bought that in a store two months before and then put it in my locker to frame me!”

Alya rolled her eyes and turned back to Claude and Allan. “Obviously, she’s going to make up whatever excuse she can to keep you from listening to me, but I advise you to dump her now while you can. She’ll make your life a living nightmare if she thinks you’re better than her somehow, though at this point,” Alya shot Marinette another scalding glare, “we all are.”

Tears burned in the corner of Marinette’s eyes, but before she could further argue her innocence, Claude spoke up.

“Ok, so what proof do you have of this?”

It was something she’d expected Felix to ask, honestly, and it left her staring at the brunette in shock. He was.. asking questions. The right questions. He wasn’t taking Alya’s words as gospel the way everyone else at Dupont had done with Lila’s words.

Alya frowned. “I already told you-”

“No, I don’t care about what you’ve said.” Claude interrupted. “You’re a stranger I just met, and Marinette is a good friend that I’ve known for a wonderful month and a half. I’m going to need more than your word.”

Alya narrowed her eyes at him, debating.

“Alright, fine. I’ll bring Lila here as a first hand account. She has the texts saved on her phone. As for the homework and such, those have already been replaced and done away with, but I do have the class president binder where several important forms are missing from Marinette burning them instead of giving them to Lila after leaving.”

Marinette had to bite her tongue to avoid laughing despite herself. Lila said that she burned some of the class papers? What would make her lie about something like that? Was it to get out of the work? Oh, boy, was that going to come back to bite her. She probably had to resign all of the ‘missing’ paperwork! Oh, this is the greatest thing Marinette’s ever heard. Hopefully, she said she lost a lot.

“Do you have the burnt papers?” Allan asked.

“No, of course not-”

“So, let me see if I’ve got this right,” Allegra said, her voice edging on annoyance, “we’re supposed to believe the account of a foreign exchange student, who we also don’t know, and who, apparently, brought out the worst in Marinette by herself even though no one had ever done so before, and the only actual proof you have, other than that girl’s word, is a series of texts that can easily be altered and a binder with some missing pages that ‘Lila’ could have misplaced or even burned herself. Is that correct?”

Alya scoffed. “You’re making it sound ridiculous.”

“No, I’m repeating what you’ve said to us, which is ridiculous.”

“She’s done other things too!” Alya insisted. “Just the other day she met up with one of my other friends and tried to persuade them into her clutches again, even though she had already transferred schools. Look-”

Alya pulled out her phone, and for once, Marinette looked on with interest as well. Lila making up a lie like that meant someone had to be going against her now, right? So who was it? Did someone mention Marinette’s name in an argument, and now Lila’s latching onto that as an advantage?

After a minute of searching, Alya flipped her phone around for them to see her screen, and the picture displayed on it made Marinette’s stomach drop.

“Woah, is that Adrien Agreste?”

The group, aside from Felix, leaned forward to see the picture better, but Marinette found herself leaning back, the blood draining from her features. That was a picture of her and Adrien at the café last Friday, but- but how did- when could they have possibly-

“Where did you get that?” She blurted out before she could stop herself.

Alya fixed her with a smug grin. “Look familiar? Lila took this while you and Adrien were having lunch last week. I’d been wondering why he was asking her so many questions about her stories, but now it all makes sense. You’ve been secretly coaxing him to your side again, and poor Adrien couldn’t resist. Even when I called him about the picture, he said he just wanted to be your friend again. I guess he always did see the best in everyone, though.”

Marinette felt sick to her stomach. How long was Lila with them in that café and Marinette didn’t even know it? How much did she overhear as Marinette blabbered on and on to Adrien about her current life? Did she know about Marinette attending Rosemary? Did she tell Alya about her attending Rosemary? How many people did she send that picture to?

She clutched for Felix’s hand on her shoulder, suddenly not trusting herself to stand, and he quickly put his other hand on top of hers. The comfort of his touch was appreciated, but not enough.

A burst of laughter cut into Marinette’s panic, and she turned to Claude who was all but rolling on the grass. He clutched his sides as he howled and even went as far as to wipe tears from his eyes.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute..” the brunette wheezed. “So you’re telling me, that Adrien Agreste, the fashion icon and heart throb of Paris, was in your class, but Marinette only started acting out after the foreign exchange student showed up? No offense to you, Mari, but I’m pretty sure a rich, young model would have been way more popular. How come she didn’t sabotage him?”

Alya faltered for a moment, not quite expecting the question and certainly not the laughter. “W-Well- I mean- she did have a major crush on him. Maybe she didn’t care that he was more popular than her because she liked him so much.”

Marinette felt her cheeks heat up out of embarrassment, but thankfully, no one touched on that subject. Instead, Allegra hummed and said, “Okay, fine. Assuming that’s true, what made Lila so popular?”

“Plenty of things.” Alya stated matter-of-factly. “She’s helped Prince Ali organize several charities, made petitions to save endangered animal preserves, is best friends with Ladybug-”

Marinette didn’t resist her eye roll.

“-and even saved Jagged stone’s kitten!”

Marinette glanced at Claude, who immediately deadpanned a “what”. She knew that if anyone was going to pick up the last line, it would be him.

“Jagged Stone never owned a kitten.” Claude said. “He’s allergic.”

“It was before he knew he was allergic.”

“He’s still never owned a kitten!” Claude exclaimed with a flail of his arms. “He’s only ever owned a crocodile! That’s been said in multiple interviews!”

“But-”

“And if we want to bring up charities, Prince Ali doesn’t organize any charities. He only donates to them.” Allegra pointed out.

“I-”

“And petitions to protect endangered animal preserves?” Allan echoed. “Those don’t need protection. They are set in stone by law.”

“I’m sure-”

“Look, you’ve clearly been given false information.” Claude said, crossing his arms, “and because you were dumb enough to believe the real attention-seeker, you’ve lost an amazing friend. Now I suggest you leave us alone before I report you to the authorities for harassment.”

Alya’s face twisted with rage. “Harrass- you know what? Whatever. I’ve done my part. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when she starts ruining your life out of jealousy.”

Marinette caught a glimpse of Claude clenching his fists, and Allan put a hand on the brunette’s shoulder to steady him.

“We won’t. Have a nice day.”

Alya huffed and stormed off, dragging Nino with her. He glanced over his shoulder to give Marinette an apologetic look, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and blew out a sigh. That.. could have gone worse.. she supposed.

“Marinette.”

Marinette’s fingers dug into her skin, and she hesitantly looked up at Felix. His hand had loosened on her shoulder, and he was staring at her with an unreadable expression. What was he thinking right now? Was he angry? Disappointed? Confused about why she didn’t tell him about her lunch date with Adrien? She wished he would give her a clue of some kind.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly. “You’re shaking.”

Marinette blinked, pulling her hands away from her body. She was shaking? How did she not notice?

“Oh, and you look so pale!” Allegra cried, wrapping her arms around Marinette’s shoulders. “Should we take you home?”

Marinette grabbed Allegra’s arm and forced a small smile as she shook her head. “No, no, I’m.. I..”

She wanted to say that she was fine, that they could continue having lunch as usual, but a lump in her throat made it hard to get the words out. Next thing she knew, tears were spilling down her cheeks, and she was putting her hand over her mouth to choke down a sob.

All this time.. All this time she’d been keeping her past a secret from them, scared that they might take Lila’s side like everyone else, yet here they were, holding her close and offering her hushed condolences. They were giving her the very support she’d been afraid of losing, and now she was ashamed that she’d ever been afraid at all.

“I’m so sorry!” She nearly sobbed.

Allegra pulled her closer. “No, don’t say that! There’s nothing you need to be apologizing for!”

Claude and Allan rushed to wrap their arms around her as well, and Felix slid his hand down to rub her back. This, of course, only made her cry harder, because they were being so gentle with her, so kind. How could she have ever doubted them?

“Why don’t we go back to the house?” Claude suggested gently. “Mom and Dad won’t be back yet so we can give you a minute to recover.”

“And Felix makes the best honeysuckle tea.” Allegra adds. “It’ll cure any pain those idiots caused.”

Marinette sniffed and gave a little nod. People were starting to stare at them anyway, and at this point, she’d lost her appetite.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, whatever you need.” Allegra said as she led Marinette back to the car.

Marinette took the handkerchief Felix offered her and dried some of her tears, then gave him a small, grateful smile. He hadn’t spoken much during the altercation, but the way he quietly hovered around her and held her hand when she needed it said enough, especially since she knew he didn’t appreciate being touched.

It’s funny. Whenever she used to think about them finding out about Lila- because, surely, it would have to happen eventually -she always assumed she would feel anxious or paranoid afterwards. “What if they didn’t believe her? What if they constantly doubted her actions now? What if she constantly doubted their actions? Would they ever be able to trust each other fully again?” But as she got into the limo and sat down, and everyone crowded around her to show their love and support over the awful things Lila had said, all Marinette felt was safe.

~~~~~~

Felix leaned his back against the peppered countertop and crossed his arms, his finger tapping against his bicep with impatience. The iron tea kettle sat on the stove next to him, slowly heating and steeping the honeysuckle tea that he’d been requested to make. Usually, it took no time at all for the kettle to whistle, but today, it felt like he’d been standing there for an eternity.

He glanced at the digital clock on the microwave to see how long he’d been waiting, and the numbers 12:45 blinked across it.

12:45pm.. That meant he’d been in the kitchen for about..

Two minutes.

Felix sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his gaze sliding to the kitchen doorway. Marinette was sitting in the living room with the others just outside of it, with her and Allegra on one three-cushioned-couch, and Claude and Allan on the other one across from them. She seemed to be having a decent time, chatting and laughing with everyone, but that didn’t ease Felix’s mind any, not after what he saw in the park.

He’ll admit to being curious when the fight first started. Rosemary is known for its hair-pulling, arm-biting brawls, but they’re also known to remain dignified despite them. For example, the brawls are almost always private, which is why, when someone called out to Marinette in such a harsh and open manner, Felix couldn’t help being intrigued.

When he saw how Marinette reacted, however, his stance on the situation dramatically changed.

In the month and a half that he’s known her, Marinette has faced down high-class celebrities, an overwhelming amount of clothing requests from Claude, and an actual akuma, and not once has Felix seen her so much as flinch. Not until today, that is, when that red-head somehow shook her to her core. Just the sight of her sent Marinette into hysterics, crying, shaking, her face becoming white as a sheet- he’s quite certain she almost hyperventilated at some point too. This strong girl that he’d grown to admire, that he was starting to believe could face anything unscathed, had crumbled to pieces in mere seconds, and it honestly frightened him. He wasn’t sure what to do or how to help. So he simply grabbed her shoulder, hoping she would understand what he was trying to say- that he was there for her, and was she alright?

She understood him, thankfully, and her shoulders started to loosen a bit under his gaze.

But then that red-head started talking.

She spat out the most ridiculous accusations Felix had ever heard, accusations stating that Marinette was a liar and a fake, that she only ever did things for attention. Even if the part about wanting attention was true- which it wasn’t -why would it matter? She does incredible things simply because people ask her to. Why shouldn’t she get any attention for it?

As annoying as the last claim was, though, it wasn’t nearly as infuriating as the rest of the things that girl said. She told them she was Marinette’s former best friend, yet she cast the ravenette aside at the drop of a hat simply because an exchange student with a rusted silver tongue told her to do so. Honestly, who would be dumb enough to believe that some foreign student was best friends with one of the Parisian superheroes? Or that a highschooler actually got to organize charity events? The most she would be able to do at her age was greet people as they walked inside.

Felix wasn’t even going to think about the Jagged Stone claim, since Claude already made it quite clear that that was another lie, but really, who goes into a new school spreading the most impossibly grand lies they can? More importantly, how did those lies manage to stick? Was everyone at Dupont a complete moron?

No.. No, that wasn’t it. No one was that stupid, surely. They all probably wanted to believe Lila. That’s why they pounced on Marinette the way they did. They were looking for an excuse to go after her the entire time.

Felix clenched his fist and turned to the kettle again, watching the steam rise from the spout. It’s no wonder she became so worried when saw Adrien Agreste at Rosemary. After her crush on him and the lies, Felix wouldn’t want to see his former classmates either.

...Speaking of Agreste, what was that picture about? Felix doubted Marinette was trying to ‘persuade him to her side’ as that red-head had said, but her reaction to it was extremely strong nonetheless. Why were they in a café together? It sounded like she met up with him only last week, but she’d told Felix a couple weeks ago that she didn’t want to see him. Why would she put herself through that? And why did she grip his hand so hard when she saw the picture?

The shrill whistle of the tea kettle broke into his thoughts, and Felix jumped to move it off of the burner. Once it was set aside properly, he turned the stove off and began setting out the mugs to fill them. They weren’t as delicate or pristine as the tea sets his father owned, but they would do nicely for the time being. Besides, if Marinette had a one-of-a-kind glass teacup, she might fret about breaking it instead of enjoying the tea.

Felix filled the mugs and put them on a tray, along with some sugars, milk, and honey, then picked up the tray to bring it into the living room. A round of delighted cheers filled the room as he entered, and Claude eagerly bounced up from the couch to grab his mug. Felix moved the tray out of his reach, though, not wanting to offset the balance and spill everything.

“Sorry it took so long.” Felix said as he set the tray on the table. “The tea is fresh so I brought in ice cubes to cool it off if you want them. If not, make sure to blow on it before drinking or you’ll burn your tongue.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know the drill.” Claude remarked as he reached for his mug again.

Felix rolled his eyes. “That was for Marinette’s benefit, not yours.”

“I’m sure Mari knows how to drink hot tea.” Claude retorted.

“But I appreciate the advice anyway.” Marinette spoke up with a smile.

Felix glanced at her as he handed her a pink mug, trying not to look at the puffed up red spots under her eyes. Her tears had long since disappeared, but the remnants of them still remained, including the trails on her cheeks that the tears had run down.

“You’re going to love this, Marinette.” Allegra chirped, thankfully taking the girl’s focus. “This tea literally tastes like honey. I doubt you’ll even need any sugar!”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna.” Claude smirked, already shoveling a spoonful of sugar into his tea. “Unsweet tea was never my style.”

“I swear you are gonna die from diabetes one day.” Allan muttered while taking a sip of his tea.

“And it will totally be worth it.” Claude replied.

Marinette and the others laughed, which helped Felix relax a tad as he sat next to Allan. If Marinette was laughing again, maybe that meant she was feeling better.

The ravenette’s lips hovered over the mug for a solid minute as she blew on the pale, celadon liquid, and when she finally decided to take a drink, Felix found himself staring. Did she like it? Was it too strong? Should he go make something else for her?

“Oh, this is amazing!” Marinette gasped, her eyes lighting up.

Felix smiled, relieved. “I’m glad you think so. I like to add a few drops of honey and a sprinkle of sugar every now and then because it brings out the flavor, but that’s just a personal preference.”

“The tea is incredible already, but I’ll try your style anyway.” She said, reaching for the sugar. Claude pushed it towards her, while Allegra gave her the honey, and once Marinette dumped the extra ingredients into her mug, she took a spoon from a tray to stir them.

She took another sip of the tea, and this time, she sank into the couch with a contented sigh.

“Wow. That is so good, especially with how warm it is! I feel like I’ve just been wrapped up in the most comfortable blanket ever.”

The trio shared a laugh, and Marinette sat up with another giggle herself, but to Felix’s disappointment, the smiles didn’t last.

Marinette set her mug on her lap and let out a sigh, a bashful smile replacing her giddy one. She kept her gaze on her cup as she said, “So, I guess… I should explain myself?”

The group exchanged glances, and Allegra frowned.

“What’s there to explain?” Allan was the first to ask.

Marinette looked up. “Well- Y-You know.. The reasons why Alya was so angry with me. How everything happened at my old school.”

“Again, what’s there to explain?” Claude said. “It’s obvious what happened. This ‘Lila’ person spread rumors about you around the school, and for some reason, your classmates were dumb enough to believe it. End of story.”

For once, Felix agreed with him.

“.. Not quite.” Marinette admitted, causing Felix to furrow his eyebrows. How much more to the story could there possibly be? Don’t tell him it got worse.

“I’d like to tell my side of the story, if you guys don’t mind.”

Allegra offered her a reassuring smile. “Of course not, but you don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah.” Allan agreed. “Your word is all we need.”

A grateful smile caught the corners of Marinette’s lips. “Thank you, but I want to do this. I’ll feel a lot better once you guys know the full truth.”

“Then we’re all ears.” Felix said, sincerely.

Marinette’s smile widened slightly as she glanced at him, but her expression fell serious again when she began her story.

“It started almost two years ago. The September before last, a girl named Lila joined our school- er -my old school, Dupont. She came in telling all of these different stories about meeting celebrities and arranging charity events or music concerts and being ‘best friends’ with Ladybug.”

The sheer disgust in her voice when she mentioned being best friends with Ladybug made Felix smirk, but he let her continue.

“With stories as crazy as that, I couldn’t believe that my fr- uh.. That my classmates were actually believing her. In one day, she had them following her around like dogs and carrying her stuff because she claimed to have hurt her wrist in an accident. I forget which excuse she used, but it ticked me off to no end. So I tried to tell everyone that she was lying.”

“It.. didn’t end well, unfortunately. She turned into an akuma and went on a rampage, and after Ladybug and Chat Noir fixed everything, she only gained more sympathy from everybody. That’s when the stories about me started.”

“Every time I tried to expose her, she would make up some elaborate lie that made me the bad guy, and everyone swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. I tried to tell the teachers about what was happening, and some of them helped keep us separated during class time. But other than that, I was kind of just.. left to handle it by myself.”

Felix held back a scoff. Typical. Teachers never bothered entering student squabbles if they thought it wasn’t law-suit worthy.

“Of course, since the teachers weren’t doing anything, the lies only got worse, and soon, Lila started lying about me unprovoked. She would say I stole her things or ripped up her homework or tripped her down the stairs. I almost got expelled over it twice.”

“Wait, seriously?” Claude said before Felix could actually scoff. “So you told the teacher that this ‘Lila’ was spreading lies around the school, but they still tried to expel you over the things she said?”

Marinette nodded. “They would have to if she hadn’t come back and made up some lies about having been mistaken. I’m still not sure why she did that.”

Felix shook his head, absolutely incredulous to what he was hearing. It appeared the students weren’t the only morons in that school. How has it stayed funded for this long?

“Maybe it was a power play.” Allan muttered with a frown. “She sounds like the type of person who would do that.”

Marinette shrugged. “Yeah, I guess she is.”

“Didn’t anyone believe you?” Allegra asked.

A wince overcame the ravenette’s features, and Felix reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say about that question.

“Yes, someone did,” Marinette admitted, “but he wasn’t very helpful, to be honest. Actually, he tried to get me to stop going against Lila in case she got akumatized again. His reasoning was that her lies would eventually be found out on their own, but.. as you know.. They never were.”

Claude scoffed and put a hand to his chest, seeming to be offended by the very notion. “Are you for real? He just wanted you to let it go?”

“Did he even say anything while you were in the process of being expelled?” Allan asked.

Marinette’s face said plenty, but she answered aloud anyway. “No, not that I know of. He never liked getting in the middle of confrontations.”

Now it was Felix’s turn to scoff. He tipped his drink up to his lips, downing half the mug to avoid interrupting her story further. Felix scoffed, taking a sip of his tea to avoid interrupting her story further. Did no one want to stand up for Marinette? Did no one in that forsaken school have any sense of loyalty or gratitude? That dumb redhead at the park even admitted that Marinette had done numerous things for them as favors. How can they look at themselves in the mirror each morning when they treat people so horribly?

“So what happened after you almost got expelled?” Allegra prompted.

“Well, if you’re asking me what changed, then nothing, really.” Marinette replied. “Lila continued to lie, and I continued to take the fall for it, except now people were actually doing things to me. Before, they only talked about me behind my back or glared at me from the front, but after another one of Lila’s crying fits, they started ripping up my homework, stealing my things. I guess they thought they were playing the act of karma when they did it.”

“And I assume that guy who believed you stayed quiet the whole time?” Claude asked bitterly.

Marinette shrugged. “Basically. He tried to speak up on my behalf a few times, but he was always shut down too fast for it to matter.”

“Eventually, it got so bad that everyone started tripping me too, or running into me on purpose in the hallway. The last straw was when someone tripped down the front steps of the school, and I almost stumbled into a passing car. I was lucky I didn’t get hit.”

Felix’s grip tightened on his cup, and he thanked whatever was watching over her that day while simultaneously cursing the idiots she’d been forced to interact with. Did they even realize what they were doing? Or did they simply not care about almost murdering another classmate?

“Oh my gosh.” Allegra gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.

“That’s insane.” Allan said.

“Were they even sorry?!” Claude demanded, outraged. “Did they even look ashamed when you almost got hit?”

Marinette took another drink of her tea and shook her head. “No. My Maman tried to talk to the school about it, but since nothing actually happened besides me getting pushed, they could only offer her detention slips or suspension.”

She paused to look up at Felix, surprising him.

“That’s why I decided to transfer to Rosemary.” She said, and in that moment, it felt as though everything she had ever told him clicked into place. The reason the akuma attacks all seemed minor to her, why she never mentioned her old school, her becoming pale when Agreste first came around to Rosemary- it all made sense now, like he’d taken a million separate puzzle pieces and connected them to form a single picture.

Felix thought he would be pleased, that he would feel triumphant upon solving this brain teaser known as Marinette, but he didn’t feel pleased at all. Instead he felt.. Sympathy. And fury. This girl was not some puzzle for him to mess around with. She was a person, a friend, his friend, and to hear her be treated in such a way made his blood boil.

“We’re glad you did.” Allegra commented.

“Yeah, you’re clearly much better off here.” Claude agreed. “Those jerks don’t know what they lost.”

“So you guys aren’t.. Ya know.. mad at me or anything?”

“Mad at you?” Allan frowned. “Why would we be mad at you?”

“Well,” Marinette thumbed her mug for a moment, “I did kind of keep this a secret from all of you on purpose. I just didn’t want to drag my old problems to my new school. That and.. I didn’t want to risk you not believing me.. I’m sorry I didn’t have more faith in you guys.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Allegra said. “You went through something terrible. We don’t blame you for not wanting to bring it up again.”

“Besides, you transferred schools to escape from the rumors, right?” It only makes sense that you wouldn’t tell us about them when you got here.” Allan pointed out.

Felix nodded in agreement, and Marinette let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s good to hear. Thanks for hearing me out.”

“Of course.” Claude smiled. “You’re our friend, Marinette. A few dumb rumors would never drive us away. If it did, we wouldn’t even be friends with each other by now.”

Marinette gave him a curious look. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, we’ve all been lied about at some point.” The brunette stated nonchalantly. “I mean, we go to Rosemary, a school filled to the brim with rich, talented, and extremely spoiled kids who have nothing better to do than gossip about each other. I get accused of cheating at least once a semester. Allegra had rumors about her bribing the dance teacher when she was chosen for a leading role one year, and Felix has been rumored to actually not be rich at all.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but an incredulous laugh left Marinette’s lips.

“What?”

Allan snorted. “Oh, that one was pretty funny. Some people still think he actually lives in the school.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Cause he wouldn’t invite people over to his house.” Allegra said with a wry smile. “And he practically wears the same outfit everyday.

Marinette hummed, looking Felix up and down. “They make a good point.. Felix, is there something you’d like to confess to?”

Felix gave a playful scoff, and the group laughed at his reaction.

“See?” Claude asked. “Your rumors were definitely worse than ours, but we’re not inexperienced. People will always try to bring you down in the lamest way possible.”

Marinette chuckled. “Yeah.. I guess they will. Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime.” Allegra smiled, pulling Marinette into a small hug.

“We’re always here for you.” Allan added sincerely.

Marinette smiled as well. “I know.”

“And if any of those jerks come around you again, you just let us know,” Claude said, punching his fist into his palm, “especially if it’s that guy who tried to tell you to ‘ignore’ Lila.”

A nervous laugh came from Marinette, and she reached up to mess with her pigtails as she said, “I appreciate that.”

Felix, satisfied with how the conversation ended, tilted his cup up to his lips, only to realize it was empty. He pulled his cup down and scanned the table, noting that Allegra and Claude’s cups were empty as well.

“Why don’t I get us some more tea?” He offered, moving to grab the tray.

“Oh!” Marinette perked up, quickly downing the rest of her tea in one gulp. “I’ll come too.”

Felix blinked. “Uh.. that’s not necessary. I can carry it all in one sitting. If you’d rather sit-”

“No, it’s alright.” She said, standing up to take Claude’s cup from him. “I want to stretch my legs anyway.”

The trio exchanged glances again, but Felix was too busy eyeing Marinette to notice. ‘Stretch her legs’? She’s only been sitting for- what? Thirty minutes? Forty-five? How restless could her legs be?

“We’ll wait in here.” Allegra remarked, referring to herself and the other boys.

Felix nodded and picked up the tray, not bothering to argue with Marinette. If she wanted to walk with him into the kitchen, she certainly had the right to do so. And who knows? Maybe she wanted a moment to herself and didn’t know how to tell them.

They strode into the kitchen together, and Felix set the tray on the counter while Marinette handed him her mugs.

“Thank you for helping me. You know you didn’t need to.” He said as he refilled the mugs.

“I know,” Marinette said, leaning against the counter while she waited, “but I actually wanted to speak with you privately, so this works for me.”

Felix raised a questioning eyebrow at her. She wanted to speak with him privately?

“What did you need?”

Marinette glanced up at him, then seemed to think better of it as her gaze flicked back down to the ground. “I wanted to apologize to you too.. You remember last week when you asked me if something was wrong and I told you I didn’t want to talk about it? Well, the reason I was upset was because Adrien came to the bakery that day and begged me to speak with him. I didn’t really feel comfortable with it, but I felt guilty not giving him a second chance when he seemed so sorry about how he’d acted with Lila. So I agreed to have lunch with him after the Valentine’s Day party, which was where I ran off to while you guys were cleaning up. I guess Lila took a picture of us there, and I didn’t realize it..”

Felix frowned. Her reasons for visiting Agreste again were troubling to hear, but..

“Why do you need to apologize to me?”

Marinette’s gaze snapped to his again, her eyes wide with surprise. “Because I didn’t tell you. I knew after everything you’d heard about him that you wouldn’t want me going to see him, but instead of hearing your opinion, I just didn’t say anything. I should have talked to you about it. Maybe then Lila wouldn’t have found me and taken the picture..”

Felix stared at her for a moment, astounded by her logic. She thought she had to ask him before going to see Adrien? Sure, Felix would have advised against it immediately, but that didn’t mean she had to ask his permission.

“Marinette, you don’t owe me anything.” He told her. “Your life is your life. If you want to go have lunch with Adrien Agreste, that’s your decision. And while I would have advised against it, I still would have supported your decision nonetheless. I am your friend, not your boss or guardian. Do you understand?”

Marinette nodded, a grateful smile crossing her lips. He was happy to see it.

“More importantly, you don’t owe Agreste anything either. Just because he finally wisened up to his mistakes doesn’t mean you have to give him a second chance, especially if you don’t feel comfortable doing so.”

Felix paused, thinking over what he’d just said.

“Although, I am curious.. What did he apologize for? He wasn’t one of the people who assaulted you, was he?”

“Oh, no, no.” Marinette hastily answered. “He, uhm.. He was actually the one who didn’t believe Lila.”

Felix tensed, using all of his self-discipline to avoid screaming ‘Are you kidding me?!’. Because really, out of all the people that had to convince Marinette to let Lila go, why did it have to be him? Actually, now that he thought about it, of course it was him! Who else would Marinette have been willing to listen to? Who else would have had the gall, the audacity, to act as though enabling a spoiled brat was some noble sacrifice? Wow, that guy just managed to keep climbing up the ranks on Felix’s ‘most hated’ list, didn’t he?

“I see.” Felix managed to mumble. “Are you going to tell the others?”

Marinette bit her lip, which was most likely a ‘no’.

“Not yet-” bingo “-I don’t want him getting a bad reputation. He did apologize, after all.”

Felix drew in a deep breath, letting the frustration towards that answer melt out of him. This was Marinette’s decision. She has trusted him with it, and he is going to respect it, no matter how much he hates it. That’s why he simply heaved a heavy sigh and put a hand on her shoulder as he said, “Marinette, you are truly too kind for this world.”

A blush bloomed across her cheeks, and she let out a small laugh. “O-Oh.. thanks.”

Felix turned back to the tray and picked it up, offering her a polite smile as he did. He didn’t agree with her method of handling things, but he did trust her to know what she was doing. Marinette was Marinette, after all, and she was much more capable than he was in most areas. If she thought this was the best way to go, he wouldn’t dispute it.

“So,” he began as he gestured for her to start moving towards the living room, “if I just put sugar in Claude’s mug instead of tea, do you think he would know the difference?”

Marinette snorted. “Oh~, that’s a tough one. Maybe we should test it to find out.”

“Alright, but you have to give him the cup. If I do, he’ll assume I’ve poisoned it.”

Marinette giggled and walked into the living room, and Felix followed behind her with a smile. He knew he couldn’t march up to the Agreste mansion and rip Adrien apart like he preferred- he probably couldn’t get any revenge on him whatsoever -but Felix would be darned if he just let this go the way Marinette wanted him to. Actions such as this needed to be punished, not forgiven and forgotten because of some half-hearted apology. If she wanted to toss the whole ordeal over her shoulder, that was fine, but Felix was going to hold a grudge against Dupont that was strong enough for the both of them.

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(Devotion: Alright guys! We’ve talked about the message of God’s wonderful salvation- which you should totally go back and read if you haven’t accepted Christ as your savior. It’s extremely important. -we’ve talked about how the Bible says people will react to the word of God, which has been proven to be true time and again; We have talked about Hell and why it exists; and in the last message, we talked about God’s compassion and faithfulness to His people. The last devotion wasn’t exactly in line with the others as far as the salvation theme, but today’s devotion will be! We’re going to talk about Jesus Christ and what exactly He went through on the cross to become the perfect sacrifice for our sins. This one’s probably going to be a bit long, and it is going to be gruesome. So what I’m going to do is bolden the main points of what He went through, then I’m going to describe them in detail. That way, people who can’t stomach gore or painful descriptions can still see a semblance of what He did, and people who can stomach it will get to understand the full extent of which Jesus loves us. Alright? Everyone got it? Great! Let’s get going then!

We start in the garden of Gethsemane. Jesus comes here only a few hours or less before He is arrested to be tried for crucifixion. He knows He is about to be arrested; He knows that this is the only way to save us from our sins, but that doesn’t stop Him from crying out to God and begging Him for a last way out. He says, “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt”, and the Bible says that He was under so much stress during this prayer, He actually began sweating drops of blood. Blood! More so, the Bible also tells us that Jesus had to have an actual angel fly down and keep His heart from rupturing, lest He die prematurely. That means that Jesus was so stressed He almost died before He could even be crucified! Jesus was scared! He was terrified of going through with what God was asking of Him, and wouldn’t we all be! Nobody likes pain, and Jesus was about to go through one of the greatest pains we could ever face. Not only that, there were going to be a few other add-ons to the physical pain He was about to receive.

See, Jesus is supposed to be the perfect lamb, the perfect sacrifice to atone for all of our sins, but to do that, Jesus not only needs to be punished for the sins we have committed, He also has to become the thing He’s being punished for. You cannot punish something that is innocent. It would be unjust. Jesus is aware of this, and that’s another reason He’s as stressed as He is in this moment of prayer. Although Jesus is manifested in human form at the moment, He is still very much God and part of the Holy Trinity, and as such, He still hates sin with a burning passion. He is disgusted by the very thought of it, the very idea. So imagine His dismay when He figures out that He has to become sin! That it has to be woven and meshed into His entire being! That would be like, for me, looking at all of the disgusting food water that’s in the sink before doing dishes and having to bathe myself in it without soap. (even bathing in it with soap would be bad, but you know) And for you guys! Think of the most disgusting thing on earth and then imagine being drench in it! Having it smeared on your skin and shoved in your mouth and caked all over your body- That’s what becoming our sin was going to be like for Jesus, and He hated every bit of it!...

But He loved us. So He went on with it anyway, the pain of crucifixion and the atrocity of becoming all of the sins of the world at once.

As soon as He was done with prayer, Judas- one of the former twelve disciples -betrayed Jesus and handed Him over to the chief priests as well as a crowd of people and soldiers. Jesus went willingly with them and did not fight. In fact, when Peter- another one of the twelve -leapt forward to protect Him by cutting off one of the High Priest’s ears, Jesus actually rebuked him and proceeded to put the High Priest’s ear back on his head. He was healing one of the very people who were about to kill Him! And the disciples were so confused and so panicked by this mob and Jesus’ “strange” behavior, that they all fled. Every single one of them. (This was done to fulfill scripture, so we shouldn’t judge them too harshly, but it is extremely sad for Jesus’ case.)

So the High Priests take Jesus away to Caiaphas, another High priest, and they put Him on trial. The High Priests and Elders tried to put false witnesses up on the stand, but none of their stories were adding up. They couldn’t share the same details that the other was, and almost no two stories were the same. Therefore, the High Priests got frustrated and started taunting Jesus directly, saying, “Answerest thou nothing? What is it which these witness against thee?” But Jesus refused to say anything. He just sat there, silent. This angered the High Priest, so he finally just yelled at Him- or at least, I imagine he yelled -and said, “I adjure thee by the name of the living God, that thou tell us whether thou be the Christ, the Son of God.” And here, we have one of the instances that Jesus openly admits, plain and blunt, that He is the Christ. He tells the High Priest that He is the Son of God, and that after this, He will be sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of Heaven.

The High Priest rents his clothes (which means to tear them. It used to be a sign of grieving) and says that Jesus has committed blasphemy, and unfortunately, the rest of the council agree and sentence Him to death. This is where the beginning of the crucifixion process begins. They still had to get a governor’s approval for the death sentence, but that didn’t stop them from taking Jesus and blindfolding Him and beating him while He was blindfolded. They would laugh and spit in His face during this and taunt Him, saying “Prophesy unto us, though Christ, who is he that smote thee?” It was an incredibly humiliating experience for our Lord to go through, but it was about to get much much worse.

The next morning, they take Jesus to Pontius Pilate, a governor, and demand that Jesus be crucified. Pilate, I would assume, reviews the case, because we see him ask Jesus if He is the King of the Jews a few verses later. Jesus simply answers with a “thou sayest” then refuses to speak again for the rest of the time. Despite that, though, Pilate knew the people were only delivering Jesus there because they were jealous of Him. So he gave the angry mob a choice: “Whom will ye that I release unto you? Barabbas, or Jesus which is called Christ?”

so understand this choice, it is important to know that there was a certain feast going on at that time, and at the feast, Pontius likes to release a prisoner of the people’s choice. Barabbas was a current prisoner, known for being a murderer and a thief, and I’m sure Pilate was hoping that by presenting a very unjust man compared to Jesus for release, the people would concede and choose Jesus to release. That’s not what happened, though. The people were so angry and so swayed by the High Priest’s influence that they decided to let the thief and murderer loose, as opposed to a completely innocent man. Pontius Pilate is flabbergasted and asks them, “What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ?”

The response was.. unanimous.

“Let him be crucified.”

“Why? What evil hath he done?” Pilate persisted, but the people only cried out louder for Jesus to be crucified. So Pilate, seeing that he couldn’t change their minds, washed his hands in a bowl of water and said, “I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it.”

Thus, Jesus was sent off to be Scourged, the first part of the crucifixion process. Scourging is a devious, calculated type of torture that uses a cat of nine tails to rip the flesh off of its victims. A cat of nine tails is basically a leather handle that has nine different whips attached to the same end, and on the end of those whips were hooks created from shattered glass or twisted metal or any other kind of sharp thing you can think of. The romans would throw the whip across their victim’s skin, and the jagged pieces laced into the whip would latch onto the skin. Then, the Romans would yank across the whip, causing the jagged pieces to tear through the flesh. The pain that would come from that is excruciating, and during this scourging, Jesus was stripped of his garments and whipped with a cat of nine tails thirty nine times. To put that in perspective, it takes 40 times of being whipped with that thing to be killed. This means that Jesus was whipped to the point of near death. His skin is in tatters. There is blood all over his skin. His teeth have probably cracked from having to grit them so much, and Jesus is in pain. He’s in so much pain already.

But it’s not over yet.

The next thing the Romans decide to do is place a purple garment around him, and weave a crowd of thorns together. These aren’t just regular thorns, either. These thorns are about two inches long and pointed, and by the time the Romans got a thick circle of thorns together, I’d imagine you could hardly hold it in your hands without getting hurt. They took those thorns and pushed all 70 or so of them into Jesus’ skull. THEN they grabbed a rod and beat the thorns into His head!! The thorns punctured Jesus’ head so deeply, that the thorns actually touched his skull, curved from hitting it, then poked back out of His skin somewhere else. The way the Romans put this crown on His head, Jesus physically couldn’t take it off. And after all of that, the Romans bowed down in front of Jesus and mocked Him again, saying, “Hail! King of the Jews!” and beat Him with their bare hands, even though they had already whipped Him to the point of near death.

Pilate took Jesus to the Jews and again begged them to reconsider and let Jesus go, but the Jews refused to do so. They screamed for Jesus’ death all the more, so Pilate reluctantly gave it to them. This leads us to the beginning of the end, when they make Jesus carry His own cross. Part of the crucifixion was having the crucified carry their own cross to Golgotha, or Skull. It was kind of like an extra burden and humiliation attempt, and it worked well. Think of it like a murderer being forced to make his own death shot and give it to the nurses who were going to insert it in him. Jesus had to walk through the city, or at least on some sort of road, where crowds of people were lined up on both sides, all of them cheering for His death, and He had to do this while He could barely stand up straight. The Bible tells us that, because of His injuries, Jesus actually didn’t get to carry His cross all the way to Golgotha. He collapsed somewhere along the way, and a man named Simon had to help Him carry it the rest of the way, but sadly, they did get it there.

Once Jesus and the cross were on the mount, the Romans laid the cross down, laid Jesus on the cross, and used these huge nails to nail Jesus’ hands and feet to the cross. This was done through careful puncture wounds between the wrist bones and foot bones. It kept Jesus in place, while aggravating his nerves to make his feet and hands go crazy with pain. The Romans then raised the cross up for all to see, and for the next six hours Jesus hung on that cross. Something to note about this is that Jesus’ cross was not smooth. It had splinters and jagged edges all over the place, and the way the nails were pierced into His feet and hands caused Him caused His lungs to push heavily on His diaphragm. Because of this, breathing became a bit of a problem. His lungs could take in air, but He couldn’t breathe out. To do that, He would have to pull up on the nails in His wrists and push up on the nails in His feet and exhale. Pushing up, though, would cause Him to push His scraped, slashed, and bruised back against the splinters or possibly even into them. And let me remind you: He hung on that cross for six hours. Six. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you would do a lot of breathing in six hours.

And yet, despite all of that pain and suffering, the worst was still yet to come.

Jesus said seven different phrases while on the cross. Seven times He pulled Himself up on the cross, enduring extreme forms of agony, to speak with us. Would you like to know the first thing He said?

“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”

Jesus asked God to have mercy on us and forgive us. We’ve rejected Him and cursed His name time and time again, we’ve insisted on turning to Him with malice and hatred, and now we’ve put Him through some of the worst, most excruciating pain imaginable.. But He asked God to forgive us anyway. This, Jesus’ incredible love and mercy and grace towards us, is the baseline of Christianity. His love is what keeps this world turning on its very axis, and it’s why we have no qualms shouting His name to the rooftops. His name deserves to be shouted and praised after all of the things He went through just to allow us to be with Him and talk with Him.

The second phrase He said was to a thief who was hanging on the cross with Him. In the Bible, we are told that Jesus wasn’t the only one being crucified that night. Two thieves were also being crucified along with Him, and they were placed on the mount to His left and to His right. The thief on the right was spitting on Him and mocking Him as well, but the thief on the left rebuked the first thief, saying, “Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss.” And the second thief turned to Jesus and added, “Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom.”

This is when Jesus speaks the second time, as He, I imagine, turns to the thief as best He can to reply, “Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.” This conversation right here is a wonderful example of salvation and how simple it truly is. This thief was dying. He’d lived a bad life full of mischief and wickedness, and he had no way of making that right. But because he believed that Jesus was the Son of God, he was still able to go to Heaven. Salvation isn’t about works or what we can try to give back to Christ (although, we should try to give back to Christ as much as we can after being saved), it’s about the free gift that Jesus gave us. Heaven and Salvation is a gift. All we have to do is accept it.

The third phrase Jesus says is to John, one of the disciples, and Mary, Jesus’ mother. The Bible says that Jesus sees them before He speaks, so I imagine they are near the cross and weeping. Again, He drags Himself up on the splintered cross, draws in a pain-staking breath, and utters, “Women, behold thy son!” to Mary, and to John He says, “Behold thy mother!”. So He was making sure that His mother was going to be taken care of before He passed away.

Around this time, as Jesus was hanging on the cross, the earth fell into total darkness. I’m talking the sky was black. And as soon as this happened, Jesus cried out into the sky, saying his fourth comment on the cross.

“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” or “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

This.. is where we see the second add-on that made Jesus so terribly stressed during His prayer in the garden of Gethsemane. He is taking on the sins of the world. One can only imagine how many sins that would be, and in this moment, Jesus is taking every single one of them and forcing them into a single person, a single place to look upon. There was so much sin in Jesus at the very hour, that God had to do what He’s never done before in history and turn His back on a human being.

There are times when God’s grace leaves us, when His mercy runs out and we are instead faced with His judgement, but despite that judgement, God is still present in our lives and in the world around us. No matter how alone we’ve felt in the world, God has always been there next to us without us knowing. But not here. Here, God is actively turning His back on Jesus. He is completely forsaking Jesus because of the amount of sin that has poured into Jesus’ heart and soul as part of the sacrifice. That absence of God is something we are never going to know (unless you don’t get saved and go to hell, I suppose) but I can only imagine how empty it must be. How crushingly lonely it must feel, to know that now, Jesus truly is all alone in this world. The very God, the other part of Himself, that He’s been with since the beginning is now just.. Gone. That, I believe, was the worst part of this entire crucifixion for Jesus. He can face the physical pain; He can face the disgustingness of sin; He can face the humiliation of being God but also being mocked and treated like a life form lower than dirt because He knew He wasn’t facing any of that alone. He knew God was right by His side.

But now He wasn’t.

And Jesus was still there on the cross.

We see in the Bible that the darkness lasted for a full three hours, meaning Jesus has to go at least three more hours without God’s presence and comfort and light. In these last few hours, though, Jesus says three more phrases. His fifth phrase is, “I thirst.”

Another part of the Roman crucifixion costume was to get a sponge and soak it in vinegar mixed with gall. The combination created an extremely bitter taste that would supposedly distract the crucified from their pain every now and then, if only for a moment. So when Jesus said, “I thirst”, the Romans quickly got a sponge or even a cup ready and gave Him a sip of it. After He drank the cup, Jesus cried with a loud voice and said His final two phrases. Now in Luke and John, the last phrase that Jesus says is different when compared to each other, but the phrases are both so unique that I believe Jesus said both of them, one right after the other, and John and Luke simply wrote down different halves. So I’m going to write the last two phrases together.

“Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. It is finished.”

After this phrase, Jesus gives up the ghost, or in other words, allowed Himself to die. This is another crucial point of Christianity because it shows Jesus’ power over life and death itself. He isn’t killed by blood loss or exhaustion or by a heart attack or anything like that. He simply dies because He wanted to at that moment. I think that’s kind of comforting actually. A God as powerful and loving as Jesus, who can control His own life and death as well as everyone else’s and was willing to give up His own life for us when we didn’t deserve it or even ask, is a God I most definitely want to serve.

Unfortunately, though, death was not quite the end of Jesus’ sacrifice. Not many people know this (or, at least, I didn’t know it for a long while), but after Jesus’ death, He went to hell for three straight days. Yes, you read that correctly. Actual Hell. If He’s going to take our punishment, He needs to take all of it, right? So don’t think God is just dishing out the punishments, but not taking any for Himself. He doesn’t need any, because He is a holy and perfect God, but He took some anyway so we didn’t have to, because He is also loving and merciful.

Hell was, thankfully, the last step of the sacrifice. After that, Jesus completed the ritual of becoming our free ticket to salvation by raising Himself from the dead! Have you ever heard of anyone who could raise themselves? I haven’t! And on top of that, the Bible says that Jesus’ resurrection was so powerful, that several other people around him were raised from the dead too! Just because He raised himself! Isn’t that crazy?

This is why rejecting Christ is such a big deal to God, and why people who claim there are other ways to Heaven are extremely blasphemous, because if there were any other possible way to Heaven, do you honestly think that God would have sent His only, begotten Son to die on the cross for us? Do you think God wanted to come down to suffer through all of this pain just to say “yeah, actually, you can also get in this other way”? No, of course not. Rejecting Christ’s sacrifice and salvation is basically telling Him that all of that pain and suffering didn’t matter, the same as spitting on Him like the other Jews as He hung on the cross.

He’s made the pathway to Heaven unbelievably simple. All we have to do is admit that we’re sinners, admit that we need saving from our sins, and accept Jesus Christ to be our savior by believing that He was the Son of God and that He died on the cross for us. If I was sure about anything in life, it is this. God is real. Heaven is real. Hell is real. Jesus is real, and He, along with God the Father and the Holy Spirit, is calling to you now. He is giving you another chance to accept Him as your savior before it’s too late. This could possibly even be your last chance. So please don’t put it off.

I love you guys very much and really really appreciate the people who have continued reading this. I’ll be praying for all of you to receive what I’ve told you, and for those who already have, I’ll be praying for you to keep growing in the Lord. Stay strong in the faith my friends! Keep telling the world about Jesus! He’s always right beside us! <3

Also, Here’s a link for a youtube video about Jesus’ death from a medical point of view. It’s a bit more detailed than I was, so please go watch it as well! https://youtu.be/0B3kgiLxybYOn that note, here’s a link I found recently that gives a bunch of videos and written materials from the author of “Cold Case Christianity”. He was someone who used to be an atheist until he started studying the four gospels with his skill of eye-witness-account-scrutiny. After studying the Bible for a few months, He realized that the Bible is, in fact, telling the truth, and ever since then he’s been racing to let the rest of the world know. Please check him out! www.coldcasechristianity.com/resources)

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#felinette #Marinette #Felix Culpa #Miraculous Ladybug #Quantic Kids #Rosemary AU #New Girl on the Block

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grlwtskulltattoo · 3 years

Text

Fall For You - Chapter 4

Characters - Jax Teller x OFC (Katrina)

Summary - Katrina leaves an abuse relationship and heads home after finding out about her father’s passing. Old feelings come back to the surface for a person from her past. Story will follow the events of the show as much as possible. How might have Jax’s story changed with a different woman in his life.

Word Count - 8152

Warnings - NSFW, Hardcore Smut, Violence, Angst, Adult Language, Dark Themes, Fluff, Miscarriage, Pregnancy, Accident, Mentions of Physical and Emotional Abuse, Self-Harm. Drinking.

Will add to the warnings as the story progresses. Warnings cover the whole series. Some parts will be more mild than others.

A/N - Feedback is welcomed and encouraged, and may help motivate me to continue. All mistakes are my own. If you would like to be tagged in future parts, please send me an ask to be added to the list.

I know this chapter has been a long time coming. Just took me awhile to get the pieces to fit into the right place. I can only hope that I did it justice. This chapter ended up being twice as long as I expected. I hope that helps make up for the long ass wait…. Oh and there is an added bonus at the end of the chapter…..Smut….If you’re into that kind of thing. I apologize in advance if it sucks…. Been a long time since I’ve written steamy sex scenes. Thanks for following along on this crazy ride.

Katrina spent the week following her father’s funeral preparing the house to put up for sale. She had no desire to continue living in the house that harbored so many bad memories. Her only regret is that bad memories out weigh the good ones involving her mom. She went through all of her father’s belongings. She saved the important stuff, family mementos that mainly involved her mom, some things from her father’s past that she’s curious about, and some items from her childhood. She was surprised to find a shoebox in her closet filled with notes that her, Jax and Opie passed to each other in school. She knew that she should throw them away, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. The stuff she didn’t want to keep was piled up in the driveway under the carport beside the garage for the local thrift store to pick up.

She is leaving the furniture in the house at the recommendation of the Realtor. He told Katrina that having furniture in the house gives potential buyers a better idea of the size of the rooms. Katrina doesn’t really care either way, the furniture will be donated as soon as the house sells. The old Dodge Challenger in the garage Katrina plans to keep. Even if she has to rent a storage unit to store it in until she finds a new place to call home. She is only keeping the bare necessities in the house for her to use until she leaves.

She has to admit that she’s a little relieved that she hasn’t had any unexpected guests. Everything has been pretty quiet since the funeral, other than the explosion that occurred the night before last, on the outskirts of town. She can’t help but wonder if Samcro was somehow involved with it. Maybe that was why Jax hasn’t tried to stop by.

Katrina spent some time pouring over the old photos in her father’s stuff. On the back of the photo of him dressed in Native American regalia was written “Pine Ridge Res”. She wondered if maybe his family lived on the reservation. Maybe she had an aunt or uncle still living there. She was seriously considering taking a drive up there to investigate. Hopefully learn more about his past, so maybe she can understand why he became such a bitter asshole of a father. South Dakota might also be a good place to get a fresh start, away from Charming and far away from Vince.

Katrina puts the photos in an envelope and places it with her duffle in her bedroom. She fixes herself something to eat once she realizes that it’s already evening time. While she is eating, she thinks about the meal Gemma prepared for the dinner after her father’s funeral. She still feels a little guilty for leaving the way that she did. Gemma has a good heart, and has always treated Katrina like family, even if she has a tendency to meddle. Katrina knows in her heart it wouldn't feel right to just leave town without expressing her gratitude to Gemma for all of her help. Once Katrina finishes eating, she cleans up then grabs her jacket. She’s getting a little stir crazy at the house and decides to head over to TM to see if Gemma is still there working in the office. It’s getting a little late, but she remembers Gemma used to work all hours of the day and evening depending on how busy they were.

As Katrina rode her Harley to the shop she knew she was taking a chance on running into Jax. Hopefully he’ll be out doing club stuff, and won’t notice her there. When she pulled into the parking lot at Teller Morrow it was mostly empty save a couple cars and bikes. She parks her bike near the office, relieved to see Gemma’s car parked near the door. When Katrina turns off her bike, she’s surprised that there’s no loud rowdy music coming from the clubhouse. It’s actually pretty quiet. There is light filtering from the office window, so she’s fairly confident that Gemma’s inside. Katrina quietly walks inside the open door, catching Gemma off guard.

“Hey baby, what brings you by?” Gemma asks with concern in her voice. Katrina notices that Gemma looks tired, like the weight of the world is resting on her shoulders.

“I wanted to apologize for leaving the dinner the way I did last week. I feel really bad about it, especially after everything you did to help. I think all the emotions were getting to me, and it was hard listening to all the stories about my father.” Katrina sincerely expresses to Gemma.

Gemma gestures to the chair next to desk, and Katrina takes a seat. “That’s ok baby, I know how hard it is to lose someone. It can take a minute to process everything going on. How are you doing now?” Gemma asks while lightly rubbing Katrina’s arm that is resting on the corner of her desk.

“Better. I cleaned out the rest of the house, got it listed with a real estate agent.” Katrina replies.

Gemma looks a little surprised. “So I guess that means you’re not planning on sticking around.”

Katrina can hear the disappointment in Gemma’s voice. “I don’t belong in Charming anymore. Never really did. I’ll probably stick around for a little bit to make sure everything goes ok with the showings of the house. Then I’m probably gonna take off.”

Gemma shakes her head at Katrina’s first comment. “You’ve always belonged here, Kat. I know Jax and Opie have missed you. I’ve missed you. You were like the daughter I never had. Don’t ever feel like you don’t belong here. You’re family.” Gemma looks Katrina straight in the eyes as she grips her arm.

Katrina sighs as she looks away. If only Gemma knew the truth about her father, maybe she’d understand why this town carried so many bad memories for her. Not to mention the whole Jax and Tara thing. “How are things going here? The clubhouse is pretty quiet.” Katrina asks trying to change the subject.

Gemma loosens her grip on Katrina’s arm. “Been a busy last few days. The club’s dealing with a Mayan problem. Jax’s junkie whore of an ex-wife, Wendy, just gave birth to his son. We don’t know yet if the baby is going to make it. He was born 10 weeks premature with a tear in his abdomen and the family flaw. I just got back to the office after spending a few hours trying to straighten up Jax’s house from the mess his ex left.” Gemma grabs a cigarette from her pack on the desk and lights it.

Katrina is in shock. She didn’t know Jax had an ex-wife and a newborn baby. “Wow. I had no idea.” She’s a little surprised that he was involved with a different women. She had alway imagined that he’d be married to Tara.

“Yeah, it’s been a little crazy around here.” Gemma sighs. “Jax won’t see his son in the hospital. Something about not wanting to get attached incase he doesn’t make it. Which is bullshit, he just doesn’t want to get his heart broken.” Gemma looks at Katrina with a pleading look in her eyes. “Do you think you could talk to him?” Gemma asks hopeful.

Katrina feels uncomfortable with the request. “I don’t know about that.” She tries to decline gently, shaking her head.

“Please, Kat. He won’t listen to me. You and him were so close. Maybe he’ll listen to you.” Gemma pleads.

Ugg. It was the last thing Katrina wanted to do. Get in the middle of family drama. She really doesn't feel it’s her place to get involved, especially since she’s been gone for so long. She’s not as close to Jax as she used to be. She has been trying to avoid that. But seeing Gemma upset breaks her heart. “Ok. I’ll try to talk to him. I can’t make any guarantees that he’ll listen though.” Katrina reluctantly agrees.

“Thank you, Kat. He’s in the clubhouse.” Gemma looks relieved.

Oh shit, right now? Katrina wasn’t expecting to have to do it so soon. She was hoping to have the night to think about how to approach Jax. Katrina reluctantly gets out of her seat followed by Gemma. Gemma takes Katrina in her arms and gives her a little squeeze. “Thank you baby.” Gemma whispers in her ear.

Katrina gives Gemma a light pat on the back before walking out of the office. As she walks to towards the clubhouse she takes deep breaths of the cool evening air trying to steel her nerves. Mentally preparing herself for all the questions she’s sure to get bombarded with. When she enters the clubhouse, all the memories of her, Jax and Opie running around came flooding back to her. It was where she had her first shot of whiskey on a dare, learned to play poker, rocked out to loud music, and almost had her first kiss. It felt like home.

It was pretty quiet inside the clubhouse, with the exception of music playing at a low volume. She was surprised that there was no one there besides Jax. She spotted him at one of the tables, lost in thought and milking a bottle of whiskey. “So I hear congratulations are in order.” Katrina startles Jax from his drink.

Jax looks up in surprise at the intrusion. “You must have been talking to mom.” He sourly replies.

“Jackson Teller, a father.” Katrina teases him as she nears the table.

“Yeah, for how long.” Jax grumbles.

“Your mom said that you haven’t seen your son yet. Why not?” She asks as she takes a seat at the table across from Jax. She notices the sadness in his eyes at the question.

“Don’t really want my heart broken.” Jax replies, staring at the amber liquid in his glass.

“Yeah, she mentioned the heart defect and stomach issues. Something about a junkie whore. Regardless of that, if it was my son, I would be spending every second I could with him.” Katrina tries to encourage him. “Besides that, he’s got a tough as nails father, so he’s gonna be a little fighter. He’ll pull through.”

Jax smiles a little at that last comment. “So what brings you by? Besides doing mom’s dirty work.”

Katrina knows Jax is trying to change the subject. At least she can tell Gemma she tried. “I came by to apologize to your mom about leaving the dinner early after the funeral.”

Jax nods his head softly. “Yeah, everyone was disappointed you left.” Especially me.

“I thought I could handle hearing the stories about my father, but it got to be a little too much to handle at that moment. Brought up a lot of memories.” Bad memories.

“So where have you been for the last 11 years.” Jax asks pointedly.

And so it begins. Katrina can’t help but wonder if it’s too late to walk out the door. She knew Jax was going to have questions, and she had really hoped to avoid them. She gets up from the table to grab herself a shot glass and a coke from the bar, before returning to her seat. This conversation is going to require an excessive amount of alcohol. She grabs the bottle of whiskey sitting in front of Jax and pours herself a shot. Katrina quickly downs the shot, welcoming the burn of the amber liquid as it travels down her throat. She then takes a sip of the coke to calm the burn. Jax patiently waits for her response, taking a drag from the cigarette in his hand.

“When I left Charming, I bought a bus ticket to Vegas. I got a job working at a casino restaurant as a server, and then I found myself an apartment. I became really good friends with a tattoo artist at a parlor in the casino. He let me apprentice under him and has been teaching my how to tattoo and the ins and outs of the business. One day, I hope to have my own shop.” Katrina decides to leave out the part about Vince.

Jax is surprised. The club has a charter in Vegas that he’s visited numerous times over the years. If only he had known Kat was there too. He might have been able to convince her to come home sooner. At the very least, been able to visit her. He’s missed his best friend. When Katrina left, it hurt more than when Tara left for school. It wasn’t until she left that he realized how wrong he was for not pursuing a relationship with her, despite his fears.

“I have to say, I’m a bit surprised that you and Tara aren’t married with a few little ones running around. And what’s this about a ‘junkie whore’?” Katrina asks. Turn about is fair play.

Jax lets out a soft sigh. “Tara left shortly after you did. She went to the university to become a doctor. Then she went out to Chicago to intern at a hospital. She begged me to go with her. To get out of this ‘cess pool of a town’, but Charming is my home. She was pissed that I prospected into the club with Opie, even though it’s what I always wanted. To follow in my father’s footsteps, and be a part of the club that he helped build. We fought about our futures, more than we got along. We started to grow distant from each other. I wasn’t to heartbroken when she left, like I thought I would be. I was more upset about you leaving than her, even though mom blames her for breaking my heart.” Jax confesses. “Tara just recently returned home and is working at St. Thomas hospital.”

Katrina shakes her head, not surprised about Tara trying to change Jax. She had tried to warn him when they were teenagers, but she had alway felt her comments fell on deaf ears. Some people have to learn the hard way. Katrina pours herself another shot and quickly downs it.

“The junkie whore is my ex-wife, Wendy. She was a club hang-around. Her and I started spending a lot of time together. For me, it was about fighting the loneliness I felt after you left. I never really loved her. We got married a few years ago. She started using drugs, so we grew apart. Separated for awhile. Then she got clean, and did a stint in rehab. We tried to make things work again and got back together. That’s when she got pregnant with my son. Things just didn’t line up for us. I wasn’t happy, so we started growing distant again. I filed for divorce a few months ago. Told her I’d help pay the doctor bills for the pregnancy. Haven’t heard from her in a while. Apparently she started using again even though she was pregnant. Mom went over to our house yesterday and found her passed out on the kitchen floor, bleeding between her legs, with a needle stuck in between her fingers. Mom rushed her to the hospital where they preformed an emergency c-section. My son was born 10 weeks premature with a tear in his abdomen and the family flaw. He only has a 20% chance of survival. I should have kept a closer eye on them, maybe this wouldn't have happened” Jax replies with regret heavy in his voice.

“You can’t blame yourself. If she wanted the drugs bad enough, there’s nothing you could have done to stop her. She would have found a way.” Katrina tries to alleviate some of his guilt.

“That may be so, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I did beat the shit out of the dealer that has been supplying her with the poison. Wendy apologized for what she did and promised that she’s going to get clean, but it’s going to take some time to rebuild that trust. I think she’s more worried about being charged with fetal abuse, then she is about our son. If Gemma has her way, Wendy won’t be a part of our son’s life. I can’t say I disagree with mom on that.” Jax has a defeated look on his face as he pours himself another shot.

Katrina matches Jax’s shot with one of her own. She’s starting to feel a buzz from the alcohol, but she’s not sure if it’s enough to get through the questions that she knows are coming. She isn’t slurring her speech yet, but it is getting a little easier to talk. It almost feels like old times, chatting with her best friend… almost.

“So… Why did you leave town, without so much as a goodbye?” Jax asks while looking directly into Katrina’s eyes. He sees a momentary flash of pain cross Kat’s face.

There it is. The million dollar question. The one she was hoping to avoid. All the pain and bad memories came flashing back to the forefront of her mind. She knew deep down Jax has a right to know, but it didn’t make it any easier. She can’t help but fear that once he knows the truth about her father, he’ll look at her differently. With pity, or guilt for not realizing what was going on and stopping it. She doesn’t want him to feel sorry for her, she fought her own way out and it made her stronger.

Kat pours herself another shot and takes a sip of it before answering him. “One of the reasons I left was to get away from my abusive asshole of a father. Shortly after my mom died, my father started to become distant to me. It was like the sight of me reminded him of what he lost. Almost like he blamed me for her death, even though she died from cancer. He would loose his temper over the smallest things. That lead to him breaking things around the house. If there were dirty dishes left in the sink, he would throw them across the room shattering them against the wall. If I left my backpack on the floor after school, he’d toss it. He started punching holes in the walls, kicking down doors. After while the only thing that seemed to calm him was liquor. As soon as he arrived home from work he’d grab a beer from the fridge, sometimes a couple of them. When the beer started losing its effectiveness he started drinking more hard liquor and getting into drug use. That’s when I started to become his punching bag. If I got in his way he’d hit or kick me. If he felt I was talking back to him he’d slap me across my face. He told me I was worthless, that I was no better than garbage, and that he couldn’t wait until I was no longer his problem.”

Katrina lightly rubbed the small row of scars near wrist with her thumb, slightly hidden by the skeleton torso tattoo on her forearm. She remembers the pain she felt inside from her father’s words and the relief she felt cutting herself with the small knife she kept in her pocket. She never cut herself deep enough for there to be very much blood, just enough for the physical pain of the blade sliding across her skin to distract her from the pain in her heart.

She glances at Jax’s face and sees the shock and anger in his eyes. Before she continues, she grabs a cigarette from the pack on the table, lights it, then takes a deep drag off it to calm her nerves.”That’s why I used to wear long sleeve shirts and jeans in the middle of summer. To hide all the bruises and scratches on my arms and legs. I stayed out as late as possible with you and Opie, hoping that my father would be passed out before I got home. Some times I’d get lucky and he’d be asleep on the couch, other times I was greeted with him calling me a slut or a whore for staying out so late with the guys. I tried to avoid him as much as possible. When it got closer to graduation I started planning my escape. I saved as much money as I could from my after school job, and used it to buy a bus ticket. I just always seemed to be in the way. So when I got old enough, I got out of the way”

"Why didn't you say something? Tell us that was going on.” Jax is heartbroken and angry to find out that his best friend had been suffering and he did nothing to stop it. He remembered the nights when he, Katrina and Opie hung out. Remembered her reluctance to go home when Gemma said it was time to get ready for bed. Or the nights Katrina begged him to hang out for just one more hour, even though it was already getting pretty late.

"What? So that you could 'save me'. I didn't want your pity or for you to feel sorry for me. I didn't need you to fight my battles.” Katrina defends her silence on the matter, a hint of scorn in her voice.

"So you run away instead? Leave behind every one you've ever known. The people that love and care about you." Jax accuses her, the hurt evident in his eyes.

"Seems to me like you were busy loving someone else." Katrina mumbles under her breath.

Jax gives Katrina a confused look. He wasn’t sure he heard her right, but he had a feeling she was referring to his relationship with Tara. “Now that your father is gone, are you planning on sticking around Charming?” Jax asks, hopeful that there may be an opportunity for them to spend more time together. To reconnect.

Katrina sighs before downing the rest of her shot. “I put the house on the market. The stuff I plan on keeping I’m going to get a storage unit for until I find a new place. I’m not planning on going back to Vegas, but I am thinking of heading north. Maybe towards the Dakotas.” She sees the disappointment on Jax’s face.

“I was kind of hoping that you were going to stick around for a bit.” So maybe I could change your mind about leaving. Jax feels crestfallen, his heart is pounding in fear that she’ll leave and he’ll never get a chance to find out if they would be good together. Ever since Katrina returned to Charming, the what if’s and should’ve beens have been plaguing Jax’s mind. He knows now that it was a mistake hooking up with Tara back in high school. It should have been Kat. She always understood him, never made him feel that he had to choose between her or the club. Things might have been so different for both of them.

“I was going to stick around for maybe another week or two, just to make sure there are no problems with showing the house. Incase something major needs to be fixed.” Katrina reassures Jax, although, by the look of his face he’s not.

“So are you seeing anyone?” Jax isn’t sure he really wants to know the answer, but he can’t help himself. He has to know if she’s involved with another man. If there is even the slightest chance he can convince her to stay.

“I was, but it’s over now.” She really doesn’t want to elaborate on her relationship with Vince, and she hopes that answer is enough to appease Jax.

Jax feels a flicker of hope. “You said your dad was one of the reasons why you left, were there any other reasons?” Despite what Kat was going through with her dad treating her like shit, Jax still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that she would just leave. Without any warning or even a goodbye. They were best friends. He has never felt as close to another person as he did her, and for her to disappear the way she did, crushed him. He has a feeling there is more to the story.

Katrina groans inwardly at the question, but at this point, with the alcohol coursing through her veins she feels there is no point in holding back. She has already confessed one of her darkest secrets by revealing her past with her father, what’s one more secret. It’s not like it can change the past.

“The other reason I left was because it killed me seeing you and Tara together. I’ve had feelings for you since we were kids. I thought as we grew up and got older those feelings would change, but they never did. I was in love with you and it broke my heart seeing you with her.” Katrina confesses feeling extremely exposed. She just laid her heart and soul on the table.

Jax is blown away by her answer. He feels a sense of relief that she shares his feelings. He knew she cared about him when they were younger, but he always felt that she probably cared about him in a sort of brother sister way. To find out that she was in love with him made his heart soar, and gave him even more hope that there is a chance they could be together. If he can convince her to stay and give them a chance. “Why didn’t you ever tell me how you felt?” Jax asks, even though he can guess her answer.

“I was afraid you didn't feel the same way towards me, and it would just come across as jealously towards Tara. That it would change the way you felt around me, the way you acted around me. I was afraid of losing my best friend.” Katrina admits.

Jax feels like a dumbass now. All this time wasted that they could have been together. If they wouldn’t have been so afraid to tell each other. “I also have something to confess. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Since we were kids.”

Katrina looks at Jax with surprise on her face. She never expected to hear those words come out of his mouth. Maybe he didn’t mean it. Maybe it was the whiskey talking. "So why didn't you ever tell me how you felt?" Katrina asks, genuinely intrigued.

"Because I was terrified that if or when I fucked things up between us, I would not only lose the woman I loved, but I'd also lose my best friend. It wasn’t until after you left that I realized the mistake I made. And I lost you anyways." Jax admits, his voice filled with sadness and regret.

“If you had feelings for me, then why did you hook up with Tara?” Katrina asks in confusion.

“I had some feelings for Tara, but I don’t think I was ever truly in love with her. She was more of a distraction from my feelings for you. Same with Wendy. Every time I was with them, it was your face I saw.” Jax feels a little weird for revealing that part, but it was the truth. Every woman he’s been with he pictured Kat’s face. Wished it was her, he was with.

“When you were dating Tara, I always felt invisible to you. I felt like you saw me as just one of the guys. You started to become distant to me, so I started spending more time with Opie. It seemed like every time you paid even a little bit of attention to me, Tara would snatch it away. It got to the point, where I started avoiding you, to keep myself from getting hurt.” Katrina confesses.

Jax winces at her words. He hates himself for how he hurt her, even though that was never his intention. In his mind, he was trying to protect her and their friendship, by avoiding what his heart yearned for. “I am so sorry, Kat. I never meant to hurt you. I was just trying to bury my feelings for you because I was afraid. I was afraid you didn’t feel the same way towards me and I’d ruin our friendship. I didn’t want to lose you. You have no idea how much I regret those decisions.” Jax sincerely apologizes. He takes Katrina’s hand into his and looks into her eyes. The years of pain and hurt shine in her eyes and he feels heartbroken that he caused some of that pain.

“Yeah, well, that’s all in the past.” Katrina tries to brush it off. She still feels the sting of all those memories, even if it feels like a lifetime ago.

“What if we gave us a shot?” Jax asks, hopefulness in voice. He has vowed to himself that if the opportunity ever came up to be with Kat, that he wouldn’t hesitate.

Katrina looks at Jax in surprise at his question. She feels butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of finally getting what she had always wanted. To finally be with the man that she has been in love with most of her life, but another part of her feels cautious. “I don’t know, Jax. A lot has changed since we were kids. We’re not the same people we were back then. We’ve both changed. Hell, you’re a father now, and VP of SAMCRO.” Katrina is trying to rationalize in her head why this is a bad idea, even though her heart is pounding with excitement. The alcohol running through her veins isn't helping the situation.

“Come on Kat. We both have feelings for each other. I know the first time I laid eyes on you, when you got back into town, I felt butterflies in my stomach. All of those old feelings I had for you came rushing back. I can’t stop thinking about you, and how much I want you in my life.” Jax pleads with her. He has never wanted something as bad as this. To make a life with Kat by his side.

Katrina hesitates to give Jax an answer. This isn’t something to just rush into, especially with her alcohol hazed brain. She needs some time to think this through. She is supposed to be getting out of Charming, not tying herself down. She can’t help but be concerned about Vince. What if he tries to track her down. As much as she hopes that he’ll take the hint, that she’s not coming back, she can’t help but fear that he won’t be so willing to let her go. Even though she has no doubt that Jax will do everything in his power to protect her, she doesn’t feel it should have to be his problem.

“Jax, it’s not that easy. We both have other things going on in our lives. There’s no guarantee that us being together will even work.” Katrina tries to dissuade him. She doesn’t want to get his hopes up for something that may just be a pipe dream.

“At least we could try. If it doesn’t work then so be it, but I can’t live with the what ifs and could have beens without at least giving it a chance.” Jax tries his best to convince her. If he has to get down on his knees and beg he’s not afraid to do it.

“Maybe we should think this though. Preferably when we’re both not drunk.” A part of Kat wants to say yes….god yes… but she also doesn’t want to agree to something she might regret.

Jax is a little disappointed in Kat’s hesitation, but at least she hasn't said no yet. There may be hope.

Katrina gets up from her chair, her legs feel a bit wobbly. “I should probably head home, it’s getting late.”

“Like hell, you are” Jax replies a little too sharply, while grabbing the keys to her bike off the table. He rises from his seat to face her.

Katrina stares daggers at Jax, a little miffed at his tone. If he thinks he can control her and what she does, he’s got another think coming.

Jax quickly realizes how that came across. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out that way. It’s just, we’ve both been drinking…a lot. You’ve pretty much matched me shot for shot. I wouldn’t feel safe getting on my bike right now, and I don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to either. I’d hate to wake up in the morning, and find out that you wrapped your bike around a tree or something. You should probably crash here tonight.” Jax tries to explain.

Katrina is a little relieved at Jax explanation. It makes sense, although she’s not sure its a great idea to spend the night at the club house.

Jax approaches Kat, the draw of being near her to great to deny. He gently places his hand on her check, the memory of the bruise around her eye flashes across his mind. His thumb lightly caresses her check bone, but when there is no flinch from her, he is relieved that the wound has healed. He still feels that flash of anger that anyone would dare to raise a hand to her. He slowly lowers his lips to hers, aching to feel their softness against his. He has longed to kiss her for as long as he can remember.

Katrina is a little nervous at Jax’s closeness, but her body is quick to respond despite the warnings in her mind. When she feels Jax’s lips against hers an excitement courses through her veins. The feel of his velvety lips against hers was almost as intoxicating as the whiskey they have been drinking. Jax’s hands start slowly sliding down Katrina’s neck then around to her back, where he gently coaxes her into an embrace. Her body melds to his like it was made for it.

As the kiss deepens, warning bells go off in Katrina’s head. Her rational mind warns her that she should stop this from going any further, but years of pent up longing urge her to keep going. Katrina is swept up in the smells of leather, smoke and light cologne, with a hint of vanilla that seemed uniquely Jax. Before she realizes what is happening, she feels Jax’s hands lightly caress the sides of her breasts before traveling down her waist to rest on her hips. He draws her hips in closer to his and she can feel the evidence of his arousal. His breathing gets heavier, and Katrina feels the butterflies in her stomach.

Even though in her mind she knew this was a bad idea, Jax was like a drug, and she was jonesing for a hit. There was a passion between her and Jax that she had never felt with Vince. Maybe it was because it had been building since their youth. The feelings they had been holding back finally able to be explored. Katrina gives as much as she takes, returning Jax’s kiss with a fever of her own. She lightly rubs the tip of her tongue on Jax’s lips until he grants her access to his mouth. She hears his groan as he starts grinding his erection into her stomach. Jax starts guiding her to his dorm room without breaking the kiss. By the time they enter the room, they are both breathing heavily. Jax kicks the door shut with his foot, not wanting to break contact with Kat.

Katrina reaches for Jax’s belt intent on releasing it as she starts to kneel down in front of him. Jax grabs her arms and lifts her back up. “As much as I’d love to see your beautiful face going down on me, I want tonight to be all about you. I want to show you how strong my feelings are for you.” Jax expresses to her.

This is a new experience for Katrina, and she can’t help but feel a little excited about it. When she was with Vince, it was all about what he wanted and how he wanted it. Often times it seemed their lovemaking was very one sided, with her left feeling unsatisfied. Like she was just a toy for his pleasure.

Jax cups Katrina’s face and gives her another soul searing kiss. She can’t get enough of the taste and feel of his lips on hers. His hands wander down to the hem of her shirt and he gently lifts it up. They break the kiss long enough to get the shirt over her head. Jax then goes after Katrina’s belt, pulling it loose from its buckle, then he quickly releases the button on her dark jeans. He slowly slides her jeans down her legs then ghosts his fingers over her panty clad pussy. He smiles when he hears her sharp intake of breath. Katrina toes off her boots then slides the jeans off the rest of the way.

Jax takes a step back to take in Kat’s beauty while he kicks off his own shoes. Her black bra and panties compliment her tanned skin. He takes off his kutte and drapes it over the back of a nearby chair. The question of whether Katrina has more ink finally being answered. He has seen the tattoos on her arms, but now he’s seeing a large dreamcatcher on one of her sides and a colorful feather on the other. There is a black crow with a purple background on her collarbone and an angry wolf surrounded by roses on her thigh. He can’t help but admire the art adorning her body and is surprised that he finds himself getting even more aroused seeing it.

Jax guides Katrina to the bed where she sits on the edge and watches as he removes his pants and white t-shirt. He tosses them onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Jax approaches her in just his boxers not bothering to hide the fact that his cock is straining against the material. He tilts her face up for a quick kiss before his lips and tongue start wandering down her neck. He can’t help himself as he leaves a small hickey just above her collarbone. Jax caresses her breasts over the fabric of her bra, before reaching around to unclasp it and watching in awe as her perfect breasts are exposed. He takes one nipple into his mouth sucking and using his tongue to tease it into a peak, while he lightly caresses the other bud. His gently pinches and rolls her exposed nipple with his calloused fingers until it hardens and becomes sensitive. He then laves the other nipple with his tongue, sucking until he feels Kat squirm. Kat feels a tingling sensation travel from her stomach to her core. She can feel wetness gathering in her panties.

Jax lightly pushes on Katrina’s shoulders, encouraging her to lay back on the bed. Settling between her thighs he continues to lavish her body with attention, kissing and licking his way down to her panties. He starts rubbing her clit lightly through her underwear, just enough to cause her to squirm towards his hand. Her breathing becomes erratic, hitching every time his fingers touches the right spot. He can sense a bit of frustration from her at his teasing, causing his lips to curl into a smirk. Finally Jax runs his fingers along the top edge of her panties, slowly pulling them down her thighs, and leaving a trail of kisses and licks in their wake.

That first flick of Jax’s tongue on Katrina’s clit causes an explosion of sensations coursing through her body. She can’t remember the last time someone went down on her, making this time feel like the first time. Jax’s warm breath, and the feel of his whiskers rubbing on her most sensitive area threatening to send her over the edge. Jax can sense her body tensing up, like a coil ready to snap, so he starts kissing the inside of her thighs to give her a chance calm. Once her breathing returns to some semblance of normal he focuses his attention back on her core. The light ghosting of his tongue in her folds and around that little bundle of nerves feels like heaven to Kat. It doesn’t last long though. Jax quickly starts licking and sucking her bud like a man starved for water.

“God baby, you taste like honey to me, and I can’t get enough.” Jax praises her between breaths, as he laps up her juices.

It takes everything inside of Kat not to lose control. She runs her fingers through Jax’s hair as he continues his assault on her clit. His tongue then prodding her slit, going directly to the source of her sweetness. Katrina’s moans increase, and Jax’s name becomes a silent prayer. She then feels his finger teasing at her entrance. Lightly caressing through her folds, gathering moisture before sliding the slender digit inside her. He pumps his finger in and out, surprised at how tight she is. The feeling of her walls clenching on his finger sending a fresh surge of arousal straight to his already straining cock. He could tell the tip of it was already leaking pre-cum. Jax adds another finger inside her to help prepare her for what’s to come. He twists his fingers around and starts doing a come hither motion. Jax quickly finds that little bundle of nerves inside her that will probably be her undoing. He can feel her clench around his fingers and her thighs start to squeeze. Kat starts pulling his hair as he continues licking her clit and rubbing that hidden gem inside her. He can tell Kat is getting close to her release by her ragged breathing and the tightening of her muscles.

“Fuck, Jax, don’t stop.” Katrina manages between shuddering breaths. She can feel the knots in her stomach unraveling. Her impending orgasm right on the cusp of sending her over the edge. Her moans get louder the closer she gets.

“It’s ok baby, you can let go.” Jax encourages her. “Cum for me. Give me some more of that sweet nectar.”

That is her undoing. Jax’s husky voice beckoning her to release the flood gates. Wave after wave of intense pleasure washes over her. Her vision starts to fade and she is seeing stars. Her body shudders and her juices dribble straight into Jax’s waiting mouth. Jax laps every bit of it up as he slows the movement of his fingers. He tries to ease her down from her climax before removing his fingers.

When Kat’s breathing returns to normal she looks down at Jax’s smiling face. The evidence of her release glistening on he mustache and beard. Jax gently withdraws his fingers from inside her pussy, and she instantly feels a void. “I need you inside me.” There is a hunger in her eyes as Kat pleads to Jax. She wants…no needs, more.

Jax stands up and removes his boxers, finally unleashing the beast. Katrina is a little taken back by the size of his cock. She had no idea he was packing that much heat. Explains the loose fitting jeans. She feels a rush of excitement, and maybe a little bit of fear that it’s going to hurt. Jax sees her concern and reminds himself to take it slow, give her some time to adjust. She is nothing like the crow-eaters he’s fucked, girls that have taken so many dicks it a wonder they can feel anything.

“Do you have a condom?” Katrina timidly asks, suddenly nervous. Jax has already produced one son, she doesn’t want to take any chances that tonights actions result in another.

“Yeah, I do.” Jax can’t help but feel a little bummed about not being able to experience her pussy bareback, but he understands. He reaches into the nightstand drawer and pulls out a little foil package. Katrina watches in fascination as he tears it open with his teeth and pulls out the rubber. Jax strokes his straining cock a couple times then rolls the condom down from the tip to the base.

Katrina scoots up the bed giving Jax room to join her. He settles between her legs and pulls her face in for another passionate kiss. He then guides his cock to her core rubbing the head along her folds, gathering her wetness to help ease his passage. He lines himself up and slowly pushes his cock into her wet slit, going an inch at a time. He slowly rocks his hips back and forth, gaining an inch each time he pushes forward. When he finally bottoms out, he pauses for a moment, giving Kat time to adjust to his girth. When Jax stops, Katrina releases the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She has never felt this full before. There is a slight burning from the stretch in her pussy, as well as an intense pleasure at the fullness.

“Relax your muscles, baby. It’ll help.” Jax whispers in her ear, concern in his tone.

After a few calming breaths, Kat feels ready for him to start moving again. She tilts her pelvis towards him, and then gives him a slight nod. Jax sets a slow pace at the beginning. The feeling of her tight, constricting walls threatening to send him over the edge. He feels like a damn teenager, ready to blow his load after only a few quick pumps. It takes every ounce of his control to prevent that from happening.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” Jax whispers almost reverently. He’s trying to stay in control, but he feels it slipping fast as he picks up the pace. Thrusting in and out, fast and faster. His balls crashing against her ass, as her walls clench around him. The tip of his cock brushing against her cervix each time he bottoms out.

Katrina feels the knot in her stomach growing. Every time Jax trusts into her pussy a tingle travels down her spine and straight into her core. She can feel her climax quickly approaching. She wraps her arms around his chest, her nails digging into his back. The moans coming from her mouth getting louder and louder each time his cock brushes against her sweet spot.

Jax can feel her tightening around him, and he knows he’s not going to be able to last much longer. “It’s ok, baby. Cum for me. Cum on my cock.” Jax reaches down to her clit, rubbing circles over it with his thumb.

Katrina is plunging over the edge as another intense orgasm rips through her body. Every nerve ending in her body is tingling as her juices coat Jax’s dick and balls. She clings to Jax’s body as she rides out the high. Jax follows her after a few more thrusts, a wave of euphoria washing over his body as his cock releases rope after rope of warm cum. Jax collapses next to her on the bed, then he draws her into his embrace. His twitching cock still nestled in her depths. They both lay there for a moment trying to catch their breath.

“That was amazing.” Jax says in awe, his breathing still labored. His fantasies of her never even coming close to the bliss he just experienced.

Katrina nods her agreement, exhaustion claiming her body. She nestles into Jax’s warmth as he squeezes her against him. Jax kisses the top of her head, as a feeling of contentment washes over him. He doesn’t want this night to end.

After a few minutes the twitching of Jax’s cock subsides and it begins to soften. He wraps his hand around the base of it to hold the condom in place as he withdraws it from Kat’s warm depths. Even as sleep starts to claim Kat, she can’t help the groan that escapes her mouth at the loss of the fullness in her pussy. Jax chuckles a little at the pout now gracing her face. He disposes of the condom in the trash, before heading into the bathroom to clean up. Once he is done cleaning himself, he returns to the bed with a warm washcloth to gently clean Kat. She flinches a little when he wipes around her sensitive bud. He has no doubt that she’s going to be a little sore tomorrow. When he finishes with the washcloth, he tosses it into a nearby laundry basket, before turning off the light. He climbs back into the bed, pulling the covers over them. Katrina seeks out his warmth again, resting her head on his chest as his arm wraps around her back drawing her close. Sleep quickly claims both of them.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Tagging: @momc95 @jerseynurse82

#redwood original #reaper crew #SAMCRO #soa #soa fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy #jax teller fanfic #jax teller imagine #jax teller smut #jax teller

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Note

Would you ever do a part 2 to Six Bodies In An Alley.

I'm gonna be honest, I never really had any intention of carrying on with this, but I went back and read it again and came up with this, so enjoy!😊💛

Six Bodies In An Alley. (Part Two)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: death, blood, being held captive

Masterlist

"What should we do with her?" Dwayne's question sends yet another bolt of dread through me as he speaks, fear coursing through me like great torrents of ice.

The four...creatures…stand before the sofa, looking down on me as if it's my own fault I'm here. At one time, I might've made a joke about the way they're standing, but now I doubt I'll ever be able to poke fun at them ever again, not after what I've seen, after what they've done. Tears threaten to spill out over my cheeks as I recall the gruesome images of the past hour, grief tearing at my heart at the memory of what happened to my brother. Cold sorrow washes over me and I have to fight back a sob, making a strangled sound that catches their attention. Under their gazes, I cower and feel yet more terror flood my system, as well as a hot flare of disgust: they haven't even cleaned the gore off of themselves.

"Just let me go, please! Please! I won't tell anyone, I swear, just let me go! Don't hurt me, please!" I plead with them, my voice laced with the debilitating fear in my veins.

"No, we can't risk that." David shakes his head, cold blue eyes fixed on me, "You're staying with us either way."

"No, please...I'll do anything! Just let me go!" I beg him, my heart racing as I try to reason with him.

"No, you're staying here." He snaps back firmly, his sharp tone drawing a whimper of fear from me.

Cold fear floods me as I think over what he is saying: I'm basically a prisoner. What're they going to do with me?

I shudder as the answer comes to mind.

"Aw, come on, Doll, it ain't so bad." Paul grins lopsidedly at me, the expression not quite carrying the same warmth I used to love seeing on him.

I look away, my hands clutching at each other in my lap, fingernails digging into my skin enough to break the skin.

"Ok, but how are we gonna keep her here? She'll just escape as soon as the sun comes up." Marko says, gesturing to my trembling form.

The four stare down at me again, seemingly considering the question until Dwayne speaks again.

"Lets just tie her up to something. That should work well enough."

His words send another bolt of ice through me, but there's something in what Marko said that strikes a chord within me - why did he bring up the sun?

Instantly, it hits me, weak hope sparking to life within me at the knowledge. The boys are quite clearly vampires, and so they must have an aversion to the sun, just like the ones in the old books do. A plan starts to form in my head, and I start hoping they can't mind read as well, knowing it will give me away as Marko approaches me with a rope, a smirk on his face. I let him manhandle me into position, watching as he ties my wrist a nearby fallen beam, securing it tightly so I have very little room to move, but not so that my circulation is restricted.

As he finishes the blonde vampire steps back and David comes forward, a stern look on his face.

"You better still be here when we wake up." He growls threateningly at me, before he and the others turn and leave through a nearby tunnel.

An angry ring has appeared around my wrist as I rub at it, wincing from the burning sting of the rope I only just managed to force off of my arm, the area flushed and irritated. It had taken me far too long to work the ties off of me, but I had to be careful not to break the skin or draw blood, in case I woke up the boys. Now, I'm regretting not finding another way of freeing myself as my hand burbs, but I do my best to ignore it, shakily climbing up and out onto the top of the Bluff, glad to feel the strong rays of the sun on my face. I never thought it would be as reassuring as it is now, but the relentless light makes me feel somewhat safer.

Sighing, I look around for a way to get to civilization, chewing my lip as I do so, not coming up with any ideas. That is, until I see the boys' bikes pushed behind a nearby tree. Immediately, I feel a shot of hope go through me, and I rush over to them, picking one out. I can't remember whose it is, but I have to fight back a cry of relief when the engine instantly starts up again, the bike ready to take me back into town.

Kicking it into action, I try to remember how I've been taught this, shakily riding off along the line of the cliff, back to the tree line the boys so often come out of when they're racing along the beach. I instantly regret this as I find myself trying to navigate the tight spaces and convoluted area, practically having to hold back a cheer of relief when the trees break off to reveal the beach, which I quickly speed onto. Sand flies up around me as I thunder along the expanse of land, the motorcycle's tyres struggling to grip as it travels over the loose material. Gritting my teeth, I ride the vehicle right up to the Boardwalk, ignoring the shouts of protest from beach-goers.

Upon reaching the Boardwalk, I gun the engine once more, going along the sidewalk at high-speed, nearly hitting a couple of holiday makers as I do so. Heart pumping, I take the bike directly to my home, breaking about eight different traffic laws as I go, uncaring of the consequences this will bring once I'm out of this mess. As I get to my house, I park the motorbike out the front and race inside, slamming the door behind me.

My mind goes into survival-mode, and I run upstairs, pulling a rucksack from my wardrobe, which I start to stuff with clothes and essential items, throwing in personal items, too. I check the time as I go, panic flaring up in me as I notice that there's only a few hours left before sundown, meaning I don't have much time left to get as far away from here as possible. Taking as much stuff as I need, I swiftly go back downstairs, looking around the place one last time before I duck back outside, going to the bike.

It's only now that I realise I took David's motorbike, a fact I barely register as I climb back onto it, starting up the engine again.

This time, I stick to the laws of the road, not wanting to be pulled over by any traffic police, cursing to myself as I get caught in traffic, my time slowly starting to ebb away. It takes a long while, but eventually I manage to get here so need to be: the Santa Carla Bus and Train Station.

I leave the bike at the front of the large building, uncaring of what happens to it now that I no longer need it, more worried about simply getting away now that the opportunity to do so is so close. People shout in protest as I push past them, but I just go right to the ticket desk, buying passage out of this town. The ticket terminates in Canada, a fact that reassures me, as it means I can get as far away as I like without needing to stop anywhere else.

A couple of hours later, and I'm watching the last rays of sunlight disappear over the horizon, my paranoia creeping up on me again as I watch this happen. The bus never got out as quickly as I wanted it to, and now we're only just leaving Santa Carla, meaning there is ample time for my four captors to catch up to me.

Thankfully, nothing comes for a good hour or so, the bus chuntering away down the highway, the passengers (all five of them) keeping blissfully quiet, none of them aware of the panic I'm in. I can feel myself finally starting to relax again, just as the bus suddenly stops.

Looking out of the window, I notice now that there aren't any other cars on the road outside, and that it's completely dark, making it impossible to see anything. The other passengers start to murmur to themselves, glancing around in as much confusion as I feel, only to cry out in surprise when the lights cut out.

It feels as if I've blacked out, everything going horribly quiet until I hear the first scream of agony. It's the driver, his voice wailing in a blood-curdling manner until it's drowned out by another person's, the cry a definite female sound. Terror explodes inside me, and I immediately know what's happening, though I can't move, the fear freezing me in place as shrieks of pain, followed by sickeningly wet sounds fill the air, my breathing coming hard and fast as I try not to make much of a sound.

The lights eventually come back on, and I have to fight not to throw up into my lap at the grim sight around me. Four figures stand amongst the gore, faces twisted into snarling sneers.

"I thought we told you to stay put?' David growls at me.

#the lost boys #vampire #vampires #lost boys #break writes #the lost boys david #the lost boys paul #dwayne (the lost boys)#the lost boys marko

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jupitators-queen · 3 years

Text

Get your crush || Choi Yeonjun

Summary: y/n and or nameless character happens to have things happening to her in a way that seems like a dream. The things happened seemed like they were in her imagination, cause why would her popular known crush notice her, but oh they’re a reality.

Word count: around 1.3k

A/N: This is my first time posting on tumblr so bare with me, though it’s not my first time writing. I have a couple of stories on ‘wattpad’ and i thought “why not post some of my quick story ideas to tumblr?” so here we are after a long ass debate with myself. also, the mention of ‘she’ is just to give out the idea that there’s an extra person but they don’t have much relation to the story and i got lazy with coming up with names (hence why the reader is y/n) but lets not talk about that. I hope you enjoy my stories :)

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"I'll quickly go get it then i'll head out" I told myself after debating whether or not I should go back to class to get my pencil case. At first I got lazy cause I got plenty of pens and pencils back at home, but after I remembered my favorite pens being in my pencil case, I headed back to get it. As I got to the classroom I heard voices in there so I peeked to see who's in there. And to my displeasure 'she' was there with none other than 'Yeonjun' with her. Let's just say that I have developed a liking towards the boy for sometime now, but that's a story for some other time. She was known as one of the bad kids whom you shouldn't hang out with. As for her name ... It doesn't really matter here anyways; but all I know is that Yeonjun and her have a project together. Yeonjun on the other hand, was an amazing person. He was smart, hardworking, sporty (strong ;)) and nice but never a push over. If you don't like him, then you must be jealous of him, its one of the two. And I... Well I study hard, do my best and I mind my own business. She sat there writing down on some paper with her cigarette between her lips, with no care in the world. As if its not allowed to smoke in school. is she even real? She let out a puff bothering Yeonjun, so took away the cigarette from her with distress and irritation written all over his face. For a second, I thought he was going to smoke, but eventually he threw the item on the floor and stepped on it to turn it off. She simply eyed him then continued on with her work. Yeonjun looked up at the slightly opened door which made me jump and stumble backwards "I guess I'll just come back later" I quickly got up and rushed away. 3rd P.O.V : Yeonjun got up from working on this unpleasant project to see what happened to the person who was behind the door. Once he opened it fully, nobody was there. Confused, yeonjun went back to his seat shaking his head to shrug away the idea that a ghost might be there and continued focusing on working so he can finish his parts of the project faster. *end of 3rd P.O.V* My week went on at a very routinely pace. Go to school, have classes after classes, go back home, do work, sleep and repeat. I ended my weekend hoping that next week would be slightly different and hopefully feel lighter.

--- As I watched the teacher give the lecture absent mindedly, boredom was slowly taking over me, I can only hear my thoughts and my quiet breathing. Class ended with us assigned to do even more work, so I got straight to it. I looked up from my work because of some noise and chatter. I saw yeonjun standing there with his hands in his pockets and a small smile adoring his features. My heart did a little thing and I had to look away.

ugh if only i can have small conversations with him between classes... i can only dream.

My peace was soon ruined as one of the witches sitting a couple desks away, decided to throw shade at me. I looked up at her, raised my eyebrow clearly irritated but she dismissed my expression and continued on. "Stop starring at him weirdo, he won't like you" she remarked as she laughed with her friends. I took in a deep breath as I ignored her once more. And honestly it was embarrassing that she said that while he's here.

I know i sometimes stare at him but not for too long cause i don’t want to be a creep.

"Pretending to not hear me loser? Yeah you're silent cause you know I was right" "hey stop it!" The whole class went dead silent once his voice was heard. why is he standing up for me? no he’s quite literally standing up. I stood up to go out of the room put got stopped mid way.

I turned around to see yeonjun behind me holding my wrist. Though his grip was quite firm, it was still gentle. nooo i don’t have time to get butterflies now!

My eyes went from starring at his hand on my wrist to his face. I had confusion written all over my face.

"Oho, I didn't think you'd have such a taste in women, boring ugly weeb-" stepping forward, my hand grabbed her hair, pulling her head and smacking it against the table; with a loud smack, she fell to the ground whining in pain. Everything happened too quickly and I just moved subconsciously. ooohh i’m gonna get in trouble for this.

"That was the last straw, mess around with someone else b" I huffed and sat back down on my chair, 'she' came in and looked at me up and down then looked at yeonjun. She chuckled then went to her seat. For days after that, nothing remarkable happened, other than the few laughs and words that get thrown at me, but nothing big.

----

It’s finally the weekend! and right now, i’m at one of my favorite parks. it’s not as known, so it’s always quiet .

I was standing at the railing on the small bridge, looking down at the water. This place always calms me down but its a bit dangerous as it gets slippery so you have to be careful.

3rd P.O.V: yeonjun was walking around breathing in the beautiful air, taking in the scenery. As he walked by the lake, he saw a familiar person, he sensed their familiar presence too. He looked at her from a distance. Her hair waving around because of the wind as she looked around with the softest smile on her face.

She leaned forward to touch the water but it was a bit far from her touch, she then looked up at the tree that had flowers growing on it. She reached forward to grab one but still it was a bit far from her reach, so eventually yeonjun walked over to her so he can help her get one of the flowers of the tree. but a step away from her, she got frustrated and stomped on the ground.

She reached farther and as she was about to grab the flower she slipped falling into the water, and in no time yeonjun was right behind her. Luckly she didn't fully get into the water cause she held onto the bottom of the rail. She let out a scream of fear cause she wasn't any good at swimming. Yeonjun came from behind her wrapping his arm around her waist and slowly pulling her with him to the side. At first she flinched as a small gasp escaped her mouth, soon after she recognized yeonjun she felt her body relax. "Hold on to my shoulders, so I can swim with both arms to get to the side faster" she carefully did as he told her but she was shaky cause she was somewhat afriad of drowning "its OK don't worry!" Yeonjun kept on reassuring her constantly until they safely arrived.

They sat there heavily breathing, trying to calm down and realize what happened. she couldn’t believe what was happening! is she dreaming?!

Yeonjun chuckled "this is interesting .... Are you OK?" He turned to her, eyes sparkling with a little smile on his face. She blushed "y-yes, i-im fine" she stuttered a bit, mentally cursing at herself for this, but she liked him too much to not be affected. "T-thank you for helping me, I was afraid I'd drown" she mumbled while fiddling with her fingers.

He was able to hear her despite how quietly she spoke "Don't mention it... Though you'll most likely not drown cause its not as deep as it seems" he leaned closer to her nearly making her stop breathing "oh.. I didn't k-know that" with a slight confused face she looked down again.

He noticed how she was acting, he found her very cute, so he decided to tell her "Relax, I like you too!" He softly stated. Her head snapped to the side looking at him with wide eyes and her mouth slightly open, he let out a hearty laugh that sounded heavenly to her "a-are you serious?" She asked in disbelief "a hundred percent!" She felt her heart about to burst as she couldn't get any redder. is this really happening?!!!!! her thoughts were a mess.

He leaned closer and kissed her cheek, she laughed in shock, but what surprised him is that she happily and boldly returned it making him blush.

They were one unique couple. But they were happy to be together. Their differences made them closer and their likenesses connected them further. The end

P.S his outfit for the weekend that i imagined had this shirt on but imagine it with black hair instead. if that happened i would just e v a p o r a t e

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honeytama · 4 years

Text

Emergency Contact

Spinner (Shuichi Iguchi) X Fem!Reader

A/N: This was so fun to write! I’m loving the idea of phone sex right now, but also the idea of subby Spinner. So why not both? Here’s another fic about my favorite! Tagged: @knifeewifee

Summary: Spinner phone calls his sweet girlfriend late one night to update her on his trip. The next morning, he gets a surprise visit.

Warnings: Smut (18+), established romantic relationship and pet names, cussing, praise kink, JOI (jerk off instructions), masturbation, oral (giving), riding

Word Count: 4.3k

Spinner lays against a plush comforter on the bed of a private hotel room with a throw blanket wrapped around his sore legs soothing him to relax after a long day of fighting. Although, the bed still feels less warm without his most favorite person in the world there with him. His favorite person even compared to the man that inspired him to fight for a greater cause; the entire reason he was away from you right now.

He sticks his neck out every day for his comrades and the people around him so that they’ll eventually have a life better than the one dealt to them. And you’re on his mind the entire way through. He slings his arm over his face, resisting the urge to call you and risk distracting him from the League’s current mission.

Spinner lays thinking about how your body would feel against him, how you would probably be eating room service dessert with him right now, and then seducing him with whipped cream upon your lips enough to get him fucking your supple body into the memory foam mattress. He could even imagine you ordering a breakfast spread the morning after; knowing you so well.

These thoughts that flood his head and warm his face convince him to dig out his cell phone from his sweatpants’ pocket. He taps to your contact and calls, hoping you would pick up soon. There isn't any time difference, right?

—

You sit at your desk working on an assignment for your job, your face leaning in your palm as you click through tens of slides. Honestly, you didn't have to be working that late into the night, but it felt better to have a task to distract yourself from your best friend and lover is away. Within the time you’ve been an item, this incident has only come up a couple times, so it's been difficult to understand the empty feeling you experience in bed each night passing.

Suddenly, your phone starts to buzz against the hardwood of the desk. Picking your hand up from your computer mouse, you flip the phone over to check the contact. Your eyes widen and your shoulders perk up to the name written across the screen. You immediately hit the answer button and lift it to your ear.

“Hi, love,” a smile beaming across your face. “Are you alright?” your excited expression slightly falters when you realize he might be calling as an emergency. Maybe he’s hurt?

“Yeah, yes, I’m just fine, sweetie, hey,” he responds quickly to ease your nerves. “I just wanted to call and catch up while I can. I miss you so much, Y/N.” His voice dancing through the speaker directly into your ear makes him feel closer than he actually is. It’s lower than usual, so probably a mix of the microphone filtering and exhaustion from a long day. Either way, the vibrations of his gruff tone send waves of satisfaction down your spine.

“It feels so good to hear your voice, babe.” you lower your voice to a comforting whisper. “So, what’s up, how’s everything going?’ You move from your desk chair and shut off your computer, deciding to move all of your attention to him.

“It‘s been a lot of work, but everyone here is putting in their best effort,” you hear him say as you climb into your shared bed to rest against the mountain of throw pillows stacked across the headboard. Spinner feels his throat tighten recognizing the sound of the rustling sheets beneath your body. His attention being interrupted by the thought of watching you crawl across the mattress in those mini pajama shorts you usually wear to bed. The cups of your ass showing proudly to him as you sway your hips to tease him before you lay close together. “Actually, speaking of them,” he continues. “We were put up in a hotel for the night and I actually got a suite to myself. Could you believe it, baby?” he laughs softly.

You position yourself snugly into your usual side of the bed. It feels more comfortable to leave his space open, especially when you can still smell his scent on the pillows and favorite blanket beside you. “Oh my god, the League of Villains gets to spend a night in a swanky hotel! That’s so nice, love. I hope you’re enjoying it, I wish I could be there with you,” you gush.

“I know, it would be so amazing if you could come along with me. But, I don't want you to get hurt over my job. That would kill me,” as always, you hear the compassion in his voice that comes whenever he talks about protecting you from his actions.

“I understand, cutie, it’s okay,” you smile. “But, you know I am strong enough to take on some of the people you fight, even without huge muscles like yours,” you tease, your subconscious pushing you to change the subject to something more erotic. You silently hope you could ease his tensions about his dangerous lifestyle. Being alone gives you way more time to wonder about what will happen once he returns, but sometimes it’s even more fun to be impatient.

“C'mon,” he groans. “Don’t say it like that, sweetheart,” laughing as his hand runs through his loose hair. “I still have a few more days out here without you. And, uh, tonight’s the only night I have privacy… It’ll be the only time I’ll get to, ya know…”

“What, I totally wasn’t coming onto you? I wasn’t trying anything, I swear. I was just complimenting the talent of my hard-working boyfriend,” you tease, waiting to pull your favorite reaction from him.

“I definitely wouldn't mind having you come onto me right now,” your touch starved boyfriend says in a low voice, slightly embarrassed by his forwardness. Since being experienced before you, an ounce of attention towards his hormonal brain sends him wanting loads more.

Jackpot.

“You would love it if I came onto your face, huh, love?” you breathe out, a wide grin holding residence on your face.

“Holy shit, yes baby,” he chokes out. His empty hand is already roaming down his abdomen in anticipation.

“Or, my slick easily running down my thighs onto you after both of your cocks stretch me to my limit…” you tantalize, testing the waters for how far he wanted to go.

A low, long groan sounds into your ear. Spinner slowly rocks his hips upward in frustration, his palm finally reaching the top of his prominent bulge.

“If you’re wearing it, pull your tank off, Shuichi,” you gently command.

“Shi-,” he attempts to pull his top off with one hand, but the action taunts him when he realizes to pull it off with both. Removing his hand from his pants, he pulls the tank over his head and shucks it to the corner of the room. The second his attention is back on you, he turns his phone to the speaker to set it on his pillow. Both hands are fully free now. “Love, what are you wearing right now?”

“One of your extra tanks and some soft teeny shorts. Why?” acting oblivious to the actual meaning of his question.

“God, those shorts, I might have been thinking you- in them,” he breathes out. “Could I see? Send a pic, or we could video call. Fuck, anything,” he groans impatiently.

You smile to yourself as he admits to being needy, and it only encourages you to brave up and push into the mood more. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll send you whatever you’d like. Right now you’re just going to listen to my voice and follow exactly what I say for you to do. Deal?” You drop your voice into a sultry tone.

“Deal. I’d do anything,” Shuichi whines.

“Ok,” you pull away from the phone to take deep breaths before continuing. “Relax and lay back.

Are you comfortable?”

“Mhm.”

“With one hand, massage your hard-on over your pants. And with your other… pretend it’s mine as you trail over your stomach,” you instruct sensually.

Spinner follows your words carefully as he grinds his palm into his groin. His fingers wrap roughly around the circumference of the prominent outline in his pants trying to add friction to his prick that rests underneath layers. His other palm slides against his abdomen to lightly caress the muscle beneath it.

Imagining him in such a position, you pull your hand to one of your breasts and roll a nipple between your fingers. The thin material of the tank top is the only thing stopping you from feeling the soft skin of your chest. You set the phone down on the bed on the speaker, and continue your ministrations. “My hand is running against each of your abs, my fingers tracing the intricate grooves made by your scales. You have the hottest body, Shuichi,” you moan into the phone as you begin to pull your shorts down your legs.

“Mmm,” he moans involuntarily. “Ah- tell me, are you- touching yourself, too?”

“You’ll find out eventually,” your tease happily. “Tonight’s about you, and I'm sure you're following my instructions to the letter. Right? Because if not, remember, you won’t be getting any proof of how wet my pussy is tonight.”

“Shit, when you talk like that, I- I can’t- I can’t handle it, Y/N,” he whimpers.

“Well, I really want to see how long you can last, Spinner,” you say pulling your top over your head. “So, you can take your cocks out, now.” He groans as he quickly tugs his sweatpants down his thighs. Both weeping pricks springing free from against the right waistband. Precum clings to his pants creating thin, sticky ropes of a clear liquid that make a mess of his lower stomach. “I'm sure they kinda hurt from throbbing against your pants, aching for some relief. Would you like some relief, sweetie?

“Yea-yes, Y/N,” he stutters.“Please, let me touch myself.”

“Hmm, you may, but just one. Don’t dare try to wrap your fist around both of them.” your voice is low. You lay in bed in only your underwear and quietly pull them to the side to give your clit some relief of its own.

“Ahh, Y/N,” Shuichi moans while stroking his thick cock languidly, tossing glances at his other cock leaking precum against his pubis. “You would give me head if you were here right? You know I can’t stand the teasing when we’re face to face. This feels so- so different. God, you’re so- ah- hot.”

Both of you, especially Spinner, are usually shy about sexual advances in person, so trying this new way of sending sexy messages felt so good. “Mmm, Shuichi,” you breathe out. Your fingers lacing through your slicked folds while you listen to the clicking of each of his jerks through the phone. “Just for that, go ahead and start stroking both together.” You hear him spit into his palm as he attempts to push both throbbing pricks together into one steady hand.

The late-night and the emptiness of both of your rooms are only filled with each other’s moans and pining words calling for each other’s bodies. Your hands move together as your eyes shut to deepen the illusion of his presence.

“I’m- close, I’m gonna,” Spinner grunts out.

Your eyes shoot open. “Wait! I have something for you,” snapping out of your sultry voice as if in an emergency. “Give me one sec.” You pick up your phone from the bed and angle the camera towards your body before sending it off as a text.

Spinner fumbles around with his phone, lacking to be grossed out by his own saliva covered hand as he opens your message. “Ohh,” he grunts. The photo showed the position you’d been pleasuring yourself in; legs spread wide showing off your dripping cunt and fingers resting on your clit. “Fuck! You- you look so gorgeous. God, please let me cum!”

“Go ahead, baby. I wish my fingers were you right now,“ you offer.

“Fuuu- uhh. I'm coming, I'm-” his voice catches before he let out a stream of muffled moans. Both of his cocks shoot ropes of his load onto his abdomen, emptying him until he’s completely spent. Spinner takes deep guttural breaths before letting out a sigh of relief.

“How was that?” you ask nervously, you decide not to go for your own orgasm.

“That was great, I had no clue you could do that! Did you learn that from that one otome game?” he says, genuinely curious.

You laugh and cover your hand with your face in exhaustion. “I’m glad you liked it, but now I’m getting sleepy. I’m gonna get some rest, Shuichi.”

“No problem, you're the best, ya know,” he smiles, exhausted. ”Goodnight, sleep well,” he says lovingly.

“Goodnight,” you smile.

Ending the call, your next action would either be the best decision or one you’d regret. You scroll through your contacts before calling your mutual friend, who also was away on the same mission. The phone rings against your ear as you wait, but it picks up only a few seconds later.

“Hey, sorry if I woke you up, I need the hotel information of where you all are staying. I need Spinner’s room number, too,” you request.

“Aw, do you want to come and visit him? So cute! Fuck off, don’t call me this late again, Y/N.”

—

You walked down the sidewalk of a city a few hours away from your home in one of your boyfriend’s tee’s, leggings, and a tote clutched to your side. It’s early in the morning, you’d caught the train around 7am and prepared a plan while sitting alone in the carriage. You finally made it to the entrance of the hotel with your cell phone in your hand to double-check the room number you’d easily convinced Twice to send you. Walking through the lobby, your shoes echo off the marble floor. You softly say “good morning” to the concierge before walking to the elevators at the back of the room and tapping the up button.

Your stomach turns while you walk down the hallway of his floor. What if he's bothered by you being there? What if the plan doesn’t work out? Either way, he responds, you had at least planned for a sweet day date with him away from his team. With a hopeful expression, you knock on his suite door and shift your feet on the hallway carpet waiting for him to respond.

The clicking of locks opening behind the door elevates your mood before the door is swung open. Your boyfriend in pajamas grins wildly as he pounces on you for a hug. “Y/N!” he exclaims, pressing his snout down into your shoulder. You squeeze him close to your body with both arms thrown around his back, surprised at his forwardness. “What are you doing here! Oh, uh, haha, come inside.” You follow him into the living area part of the suite, closing the door behind you.

“Honestly, I wanted to see you in person after our call from last night,” you admit. “So, I got Twice to share the information with me, I hope that’s ok. I know you don’t want Tomura to find out, but I couldn’t help myself,” you explain.

“No, no, I- I like that you came to me, that’s the nicest thing ever, babe,” Spinner says, pulling your hand into the sleeping area. “But, check this room out! I had a whole queen bed to myself, flat-screen TV…, and a desk!”

You watch him swing his arms around the room to show you as much as he could before he had to check out later that afternoon. His excitement for things he’s passionate about always made you love him more. You lean into his side and place a kiss to the side of his snout. He halts his show-and-tell before turning to look into your eyes, a smile growing on his face. His cheeks are blushing.

“You stole a kiss from me?” He questions. “You know what happens when you do that,” Spinner turns on his fake villainous voice before taking your chin in his hand. And then, starts to tickle your neck.

“Shuichi! Ah, no!” You walk backward into the edge of the bed trying to escape his grasp. You fall over onto the soft mattress when his hands roam to your sides and your thighs, continuing his attack. Always being careful with his sharp nails. “Haha ah! C’mon, Mr. Villain! I promise- I won’t steal another!”

Now, his body is hovering above yours, his long, strong arms holding your body like a vice. He stops to stare at your pretty face that's laughing and smiling because of him.

You stare back while locking eyes with his. Wanting to make the move you’d traveled there for, you rush to the front of his snout and lock your lips with his. Tracing the precise shape of his jaw with your fingers. Your bodies come together, noses nuzzled against the others’.

His strength helps pull you both up toward the middle of the bed. Once reaching a more comfortable spot, you use your own strength to push him onto his back. You straddle your legs over his hips and lean down to kiss his neck. Pressing your hot lips against his skin, you let your tongue slip out before sucking the spot he usually hides under a scarf. You whisper sweetly, “I told you I was stronger than you thought, handsome. How would you feel for me to use you like a toy?” Lifting your head, you watch his blown out eyes in anticipation.

Sunlight pours into the room in rays from the large windows at the side of the room while thin curtains give some amount of privacy. Luckily, you were on a high floor. His brown eyes show amber flecks as the sun hits them. He searches your expression for any sign of a lie or joke. “You want to have sex?” he asks, oblivious.

“I want you to fuck me, love… if you’d like that of course" you whisper.

He can’t believe the love of his life just traveled several hours to do something so sinful with his body. His eyes darken a shade in arousal, hoping you’ll dominate his every move, just as you’d done the night before. “Shit, yes. I need you-”

You raise your shirt over your head to throw it over your shoulder before reaching for the edge of his own. Spinner raises his arms above his head and lets you pull it off of his torso. You kiss his nose before sliding down his body eagerly, taking the waistband of his pants with you. Kissing the lines leading down from his Apollo’s belt, you close your eyes in comfort. When you finally open them again, a flutter of your fingers moves his cocks until they’re hard and straining against your hand.

“Please, suck me. I need your tongue, you’re so good,” he stammers. His index finger is pinched between his teeth as you lick up the full length of his sleek shaft. Once you bring your mouth to his tip, the swirl of your tongue against his hole makes him squirm against the sheets. “Ah, so sensitive,” he whimpers.

You lift your mouth from his dripping prick and smile upwards at his blushing face. “So, you don’t want me to blow you, babe?,” you tease as you stroke him slowly in one hand.

“No, no, no keep going!” Spinner yelps trying to sway his hips in your moving hand for friction.

Your head dips back down to the cock in your hand and you wet your lips before taking an amount of his thick length in your mouth. The taste of his bittersweet precum grazing your palate. He groans as you continue in a bobbing motion reminding you of the night before. Your inner thighs rub together to give friction to your hidden cunt.

You continue to bob your head up and down, pressing your tongue against his shaft. His moans motivate you to take both of his cock tips between your lips; you’re still learning how to completely pleasure both of his members equally. You drag your tongue back and forth along his weeping tips in a swiping motion and watch his reaction from underneath your lashes. The size of his eyes and raised brow make you giggle against him; it gives you even more encouragement to keep going. Giving a kiss on the inner part of his muscular thigh, you sit up and pull your leggings off.

Your boyfriend does a double-take when he realizes you're not wearing anything underneath. “Baby, you’re gonna kill me,” he throws his head back against the pillow. You giggle and climb back up his body while Shuichi’s hands pull your hips into his lap to straddle him again. He rocks your body back and forth easily making your slit slide along the length of his shaft. The ridge before his cock tip hitting your clit with every turn.

“Ooh,” you repeat with every time his hard tip skims your engorged pearl. “I wanna ride your cock, babe,” you moan above him. Spinner’s face flushes as he nods and picks your hips up from his body. He ogles your arousal covering the entirety of his cock before allowing you to take it in your small hand to line it up with your entrance. His focused gaze switches from watching you prod your hole to the lewd expression on your face. Your lip being held between your teeth, you lower yourself onto his cockhead. “Ahh,” you gasp. Your chest quickly rises at the sudden development. The built-up arousal causes your body to fall onto his dick in full. You both groan at the abrupt stretch and tightness of your drenched sleeve wrapped around him.

“Y/N, you’re so beautiful. How am I so lucky?” he gushes. You smile down at him and start your back and forth movements, holding onto his broad shoulders for guidance.

Shuichi caresses your thighs as you ride him sensually. You reach down and run your fingers through his hair as you moan. You continue to roll your hips as he closes his eyes and presses his forehead to yours, "Enjoy yourself. Take me all you want.” Spinner groans at your slow movements; the nails of his forefingers sinking into your ass like lead as he tries to thrust up into you impatiently. You put your entire weight into him as you press his chest down into the mattress; you forbid him from moving without your permission. “You make me feel- ah- So. Fucking. Good,” he grunts with every smack of your ass against his thighs as you bounce on his dick. His other cock lies beneath your spread thigh; it gains pleasure from the fiction caused by you bouncing and grinding.

You breathe heavily above him. The stretch you feel from his textured cock is heavenly, but once he reaches to poke into your cervix it’s difficult to control your rhythm. “Oh fuck! Right there!” The feeling makes you fall from your posture above him to his level. Your arms circle his neck as your chests are pressed together to continue. The curved tip of his cock slides repeatedly into the soft, ridged spot inside of you as he thrusts upwards into your body now. Forgetting about your assertion about taking control, he pistons his hips forward from the mattress into your sopping cunt over and over again; he’s only trying to get you to your climax now. The feeling of your pretty little hole tightening tells him your close to coming undone.

“Fuck, yes, just like that! Please, a little more,” you groan into his shoulder. You whine after each of his thrusts into his neck. Your words of praise becoming mush as he plows through your body.

“Fuck, I can feel you-. You’re all mine, ugh, you’re pussy is all mine, huh?,” he grunts into your ear. “Cum on my cock. I want it, baby, please- Give it to me!” he says in rhythm to each one of his thrusts as he holds your hips down into his groin.

A large knot in your stomach tightens abruptly and your throat catches before you feel the snap coming. His words encourage your body to let go as your face the orgasm you had denied yourself the night before. You let out a flow of whines and “yes’s” riding your high on his pulsating prick. The next moment, you watch as Spinner’s snout turns upwards and his eyes roll back into his head as he unloads thick strings of warm cum into your cunt. Your exhausted walls unable to give him more before his slippery cock slides out; it lands on his abdomen with a smack in a pool of cum from his other cock.

Shuichi holds your hips above him as you both come down from your highs. His fingertips gently sliding over the indentations from his nails on your ass cheeks and thighs. You place a long kiss on his snout and cheek before throwing yourself to his side on the bed. You both let out deep sighs in pleasure as you both turn to look at one another in awe.

“So,” you laugh. “I planned a cute breakfast date out on the town, but this feels so nice,” you say, smiling.

“A date, with me?” You giggle and nod. His face is flushed, but he responds to you in the same amount of contentment, “I still want to experience the room service, so let’s clean up and I’ll order whatever you want.”

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linastudyblrsblog · 4 years

Text

Burnout, unfortunately, is everywhere. If you haven’t experienced it personally, you probably know someone who has self-diagnosed.

Defined by the World Health Organization as a syndrome “conceptualized as resulted from chronic workplace stress,” it causes exhaustion, “feelings of negativism or cynicism,” and reduced efficacy. That’s a big umbrella, and the condition has become something of a catch-all for chronic, modern-day stress.

Here are 11 of our favorites to help you create your own escape plan:

1. Figure out which kind of burnout you have.

The Association for Psychological Science found that burnout comes in three different types, and each one needs a different solution:

1. Overload: The frenetic employee who works toward success until exhaustion, is most closely related to emotional venting. These individuals might try to cope with their stress by complaining about the organizational hierarchy at work, feeling as though it imposes limits on their goals and ambitions. That coping strategy, unsurprisingly, seems to lead to a stress overload and a tendency to throw in the towel.

2. Lack of Development: Most closely associated with an avoidance coping strategy. These under-challenged workers tend to manage stress by distancing themselves from work, a strategy that leads to depersonalization and cynicism — a harbinger for burning out and packing up shop.

3. Neglect: Seems to stem from a coping strategy based on giving up in the face of stress. Even though these individuals want to achieve a certain goal, they lack the motivation to plow through barriers to get to it

2. Cut down and start saying “no.”

Every “yes” you say adds another thing on your plate and takes more energy away from you, and your creativity:

If you take on too many commitments, start saying ‘no’. If you have too many ideas, execute a few and put the rest in a folder labeled ‘backburner’. If you suffer from information overload, start blocking off downtime or focused worktime in your schedule (here are some tools that may help). Answer email at set times. Switch your phone off, or even leave it behind. The world won’t end. I promise.

3. Give up on getting motivated.

With real burnout mode, you’re too exhausted to stay positive. So don’t:

When you’re mired in negative emotions about work, resist the urge to try to stamp them out. Instead, get a little distance — step away from your desk, focus on your breath for a few seconds — and then just feel the negativity, without trying to banish it. Then take action alongside the emotion. Usually, the negative feelings will soon dissipate. Even if they don’t, you’ll be a step closer to a meaningful achievement.

4. Treat the disease, not the symptoms.

For real recovery and prevention to happen, you need to find the real, deeper issue behind why you’re burnt out:

Instead of overreacting to the blip, step back from it, see it as an incident instead of an indictment, and then examine it like Sherlock Holmes looking for clues.

For example, you could ask yourself: What happened before the slip? Did I encounter a specific trigger event such as a last-minute client request? Was there an unusual circumstance such as sickness? When did I first notice the reversion in my behavior? Is some part of this routine unsustainable and if so, how could I adjust it to make it more realistic?

5. Make downtime a daily ritual.

To help relieve pressure, schedule daily blocks of downtime to refuel your brain and well-being. It can be anything from meditation to a nap, a walk, or simply turning off the wifi for a while:

When it comes to scheduling, we will need to allocate blocks of time for deep thinking. Maybe you will carve out a 1-2 hour block on your calendar every day for taking a walk or grabbing a cup of coffee and just pondering some of those bigger things. I can even imagine a day when homes and apartments have a special switch that shuts down wi-fi and data access during dinner or at night – just to provide a temporary pause from the constant flow of status updates and other communications…

There is no better mental escape from our tech-charged world than the act of meditation. If only for 15 minutes, the ability to steer your mind away from constant stimulation is downright liberating. There are various kinds of meditation. Some forms require you to think about nothing and completely clear your mind. (This is quite hard, at least for me.) Other forms of meditation are about focusing on one specific thing – often your breath, or a mantra that you repeat in your head (or out loud) for 10-15 minutes…

If you can’t adopt meditation, you might also try clearing your mind the old fashioned way – by sleeping. The legendary energy expert and bestselling author Tony Schwartz takes a 20-minute nap every day. Even if it’s a few hours before he presents to a packed audience, he’ll take a short nap.

6. Stop being a perfectionist; start satisficing.

Trying to maximize every task and squeeze every drop of productivity out of your creative work is a recipe for exhaustion and procrastination. Set yourself boundaries for acceptable work and stick to them:

Consistently sacrificing your health, your well being, your relationships, and your sanity for the sake of living up to impossible standards will lead to some dangerous behaviors and, ironically, a great deal of procrastination. Instead of saying, “I’ll stay up until this is done,” say, “I’ll work until X time and then I’m stopping. I may end up needing to ask for an extension or complete less than perfect work. But that’s OK. I’m worth it.” Making sleep, exercise, and downtime a regular part of your life plays an essential role in a lasting, productive creative career.

7. Track your progress every day.

Keeping track allows you to see exactly how much is on your plate, not only day-to-day, but consistently over time:

Disappointing feedback can be painful at first – research shows that failure and losses can hurt twice as much as the pleasure of equivalent gains. But if you discover you’re off course, reliable feedback shows you by how much, and you then have the opportunity to take remedial action and to plot a new training regime or writing schedule. The temporary pain of negative feedback is nothing compared with the crushing experience of project failure. Better to discover that you’re behind and need to start writing an hour earlier each day, than to have your book contract rescinded further down the line because you’ve failed to deliver.

8. Change location often.

Entrepreneurs or freelancers can be especially prone to burnout. Joel Runyon plays “workstation popcorn,” in which he groups tasks by location and then switches, in order to keep work manageable, provide himself frequent breaks, and spend his time efficiently:

You find yourself spending hours at your computer, dutifully “working” but getting very little done. You finish each day with the dreaded feeling that you’re behind, and that you’re only falling farther and farther behind. You’re buried below an ever-growing to-do list. There’s a feeling of dread that tomorrow is coming, and that it’s bringing with it even more work that you probably won’t be able to get ahead on.

List out everything you need to do today. Try to be as specific as you can…Next, break that list into three sections. Step 1: Go to cafe [or desk, a different table in your office, etc.] #1. Step 2: Start working on item group #1…Once you finish all the tasks in group #1, get up and move. Close your tabs, pack your bags, and physically move your butt to your next spot. If you can, walk or bike to your next stop…When you get to the next cafe [or spot], start on the next action item group, and repeat…

When you’ve completed everything on your to-do list for the day, you are done working. Relax, kick back, and live your life. Don’t take work home with you because that won’t help you get more done – it will just wear you out.

9. Don’t overload what downtime you do get.

Vacations themselves can cause, or worsen burnout, with high-stress situations, expectations, and sleep interruption. Use it to help in recovery from burnout instead:

Make a flexible itinerary a priority. [A] study from Radboud University found that effective vacations give you the choice and freedom to choose what you want to do. That means two things: Try to avoid structuring your vacation around an unbreakable schedule, and plan on going somewhere that has multiple options to pick from depending on the weather, your level of energy, or your budget.

10. Write yourself fan mail.

Seth Godin uses self-fan mail as a way to keep motivated instead of burning out on a project that seems far from completion:

I define non-clinical anxiety as, “experiencing failure in advance.” If you’re busy enacting a future that hasn’t happened yet, and amplifying the worst possible outcomes, it’s no wonder it’s difficult to ship that work. With disappointment, I note that our culture doesn’t have an easily found word for the opposite. For experiencing success in advance. For visualizing the best possible outcomes before they happen. Will your book get a great testimonial? Write it out. Will your talk move someone in the audience to change and to let you know about it? What did they say? Will this new product gain shelf space at the local market? Take a picture. Writing yourself fan mail in advance, and picturing the change you’ve announced you’re trying, to make is an effective way to push yourself to build something that actually generates that action.

11. Break projects into bite-sized pieces.

Taking a task on in one entire lump can be exhausting and provide little room for rest in between. Breaking up your projects into set chunks with their own deadlines provides a much healthier, and easier, way of completing a large project:

The default take on deadlines is typically to consider them to be cumbersome and stressful. Yet, from another perspective, a deadline can be viewed as a huge benefit to any project. Without the urgency of a hard deadline pushing a project to completion, it’s easy for you, your team, or your client to lose focus. We’ve all worked on agonizing projects where the timeline just bleeds on and on, merely because the flexibility is there…

It turns out that the manner in which a task is presented to someone – or the way in which you present it to your brain – has a significant impact on how motivated you will be to take action. A study led by researcher Sean McCrea at the University of Konstanz in Germany recently found that people are much more likely to tackle a concrete task than an abstract task… It seems to me like the difference between being handed a map versus following the step-by-step instructions of a GPS device. Not everyone can read a map, but everyone can follow the directions. By breaking your project down into smaller, well-described tasks, the way forward becomes clear and it’s easy to take action.

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kiwi-bitchez · 5 years

Note

can i just say that your writing style is absolutely phenomenal and that i adore the work you’ve put out so far. i know whatever you write in the future is going to be incredible and i can’t wait to read it!! in terms of suggestions, i was wondering if you could write something with virgin peter being with a more experienced reader? maybe she finds his lack of experience cute and calms down his nerves by being straight forward? maybe a little praise kink discovery as well?? totally up to you!!

Holy shit yes! Honestly, I got a little carried away with this... sorry I took so long lol, hope this holds up to any expectations ;)

Straight Forward, Straight Backwards (a college!Peter Parker AU)

Warnings: SMUT, college!AU, sexy times, praise kink, Peter Parker is a cutie, also everyone is legal ages here obvi

Word count: 6.5k

Summary: You move into a new dorm building and a cute boy down the hall catches your eye. Little did you know he's a smarty pants who takes directions very well ;)

You should have done a better job packing. Your personal items lay strewn about in your new dorm room, clothes and other items all jumbled together in unorganized boxes. You typically didn’t leave things until the last minute, but moving across campus didn’t seem like a big deal until it was actually time to do it.

You flop back on your unmade bed and scroll through your phone, finding any excuse not to deal with the chaos of unpacking. Hopping up to your feet, you decide to wander down the hall to see if anyone’s doors were open. You hadn’t had much luck making friends in the last building you lived in and wanted to take the opportunity to try and meet some new people.

You walk down the hall searching for someone to introduce yourself to, poking your head into a handful of rooms and saying hello. You tell them your name and that you just moved in, having a quick few interactions with the people in the rooms next to yours. You venture a little further down the hall to a door propped open with a doorstop, faint music coming from inside.

You knock lightly and then poke your head in, not wanting to intrude on anyone. You see a curly-haired boy sitting at a desk concentrating on something. For a second you wondered if you should just let him be, but something told you to knock again and see if he noticed.

You knock a little louder this time, saying a quiet “Hello?” as you do so. He turns around abruptly, startled by your presence. He lurches back in his chair a little bit, rolling across the room and away from his desk.

“Hey,” you say again, “sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Nonono, it’s ok,” he says quickly and nervously.

“I just moved in down the hall,” you gesture towards your room, “I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m y/n.”

“Oh, hi,” he still seemed nervous, “I’m Peter.”

He got up out of his desk chair quickly and walked a few steps over to you. He jutted his hand out, offering it to you. You couldn’t help but smile a little as you shook it tentatively. Most of the people you had met didn’t even bother to leave their beds, let alone get up to shake your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you Peter,” you say as you continue to shake his hand.

“Shit, sorry,” he pulls his hand away, realizing he had been shaking yours for much longer than necessary, “do you wanna come in? I have snacks.”

You chuckle a little before entering his small single dorm and comfortably plopping yourself onto a beanbag chair.

“Purple Doritos,” you gesture to the hoard of junk food he has piled on a shelf in the corner, “respect.”

“Totally underrated right?” he says with enthusiasm.

The two of you exchange the typical chit chat of college students, asking each other what your major is and how long you’ve been in school.

“Biomechanical engineering and robotics, but also maybe chemistry if I have the time to do that too,” he runs his hand through his floppy curls.

“Damn,” you look at him wide-eyed, “guess I’m coming to you for science help from now on, freakin genius over here.”

He laughs nervously and turns away, “I just think its all so interesting, and I love to build things.”

You can’t help but smile at the way he talks with his hands, spinning around aimlessly in his desk chair. He tells you about your school’s robotics lab, something you would never have had a reason to know about otherwise. He starts to tell you about the kinds of things he’s built, and the projects he was currently working on. Most of what he said went right over your head, but you liked how excited he was to tell you about it.

After shooting the shit for a while, you get up, “I guess I’ll head back to my room, didn’t mean to distract you from your work or anything,” you gesture to his desk, “it was really nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, if you um ever need a study buddy or anything like that you can usually find me right here,” he was a little jittery, and his voice was nervous. You give him a smile and tell him you will take him up on that offer.

You feel a blush creep up into your cheeks as you hurry down the hall back to your messy dorm. He was cute. And nice. And funny and smart. He was nothing like the guys you usually went for. He seemed awkward and shy, and you knew you’d have to be the one to make the first move. You were used to just letting others do the work when flirting, so this would be different.

A few days later you found yourself bored and alone in your dorm. You had spent the morning finishing up some school assignments, so you hadn’t had the chance to get any food. Only now were you realizing how hungry you were. Jumping up from your desk and throwing some clean clothes on you decide to venture out onto campus.

Peter’s dorm door is propped open once again, and something inside you tells you to pop your head in. You had seen him in passing since meeting him, and he would always give you a friendly wave and a smile.

“Hey,” you say as you knock quietly, “hope I’m not bothering you.”

He’s sat in his bed, big headphones on and furiously scribbling in a notebook. He only notices you once you enter the room, startling him.

“Oh, hey y/n, what’s uhh, what’s up,” he stumbles on his words as he takes off the headphones and hops off the bed.

“Just wanted to say hey and see if you wanted to come to the dining hall with me,” you help him gather his papers that had fallen on the floor.

“Oh, yeah, um, sure,” he looks up at you, big brown eyes meeting yours, “that would be nice, I haven’t eaten yet today.”

“Me either,” you hand him the stack you had gathered. The two of you decide on which dining hall is best and make your way across campus. He’s a fast walker, which you like, and an even faster talker. You can tell that you make him a little nervous, but you kind of like that too. It made it easier to hide how nervous he made you.

The two of you grab some food and find a table off in a corner to sit at. Despite his awkward nature, you found Peter to be incredibly sweet and a nice person to be around. He always seemed interested in what you were saying and would never cut you off or talk over you.

You start asking him more about what he does in the labs at school, liking the way his eyes light up and hands get restless when he talks about the projects he’s working on. He knows you aren’t a science buff like him, but he appreciates that you are interested in hearing about his projects.

You realize that you had finished your food long ago and you had been sitting at the table for quite a while, just going back and forth with Peter, telling stories and jokes and facts about your lives. He was an easy person to talk to, which was rare to come by.

“Maybe sometime you could sneak me in and show me what you’ve been working on,” you rest your head onto your palm.

“Oh, no sneaking necessary, I could bring you anytime,” he says casually, “you wanna go?” He gestures towards the door.

“Now?” you were a little surprised at the suggestion, but nodded in agreement and moved to clear your plate.

The two of you start walking across campus once again, you following his lead. You were excited to be spending so much time with him, growing to like him more and more as you got to know him better.

Your first years of college had been spent doing the typical partying and experimenting, as custom. You had your fair share of one night stands, good and bad. Sort and long term relationships, both good and bad.

As much as you were attracted to Peter, you truly just enjoyed spending time with him. He is hard to read, and you couldn’t quite tell if you had a shot with him. If not you were content with just being his friend, although you did think about jumping his bones most of the time.

He swipes his student ID in the door of a large grey building, letting the two of you in. You follow him down a series of halls and stairwells, he tells you about all the different labs as you go. You finally reach a large set of double doors that lead to the robotics lab.

It was a vast space with mounds and piles of mechanical equipment. Goofy drawings and photos were hung up on the walls by people’s workstations. You couldn’t even begin to conceive what all these machines are and what they do.

You wander around the space while Peter walks over to a desk and piles of boxes, telling you about the project he had been working on. You jumped up onto a large table, figuring it was alright to sit there when Peter didn’t comment on your position. He was talking in circles about the machine, using acronyms and names of things you had no idea about.

Walking over to where you were sat, he shows you a small mechanical spider, roughly the size of his hand.

“I’m trying to program him to follow instructions that I can give from a mobile device,” he starts to tell you. You think it's cute that he called the robot a “he.”

“Do you wanna see?” he asks, you were too busy staring at his face to realize he had asked you a question.

“Oh yeah, of course,” you snap out of your trance and turn your attention to the little spider on the table next to you.

As Peter controlled the robot with his phone, giving it basic instructions like to move or stop, you tried to keep your attention on the spider rather than the cute boy next to you. You felt the overwhelming desire to make a move, going back and forth in your head as to whether that is a good idea or not.

He takes a few steps towards you, really reaching for his robot, but in the process positioning himself comfortably standing between your legs. He reaches past you to grab his project. You lean forward a little so your shoulders touch.

“Oh shit, sorry y/n,” he backs up quickly, realizing he had been standing so close to you, “I didn’t mean to get all up in your space just then.”

“It’s ok,” you brush your hair behind your ear and try to give him a flirty look, “come here.”

Peter gulps, and sets the spider down behind him on a different table, tentatively stepping towards you. “Can I show you something?” you lean your shoulders into him again, moving to the edge of the table to move your body closer to his.

Peter nods, clearly nervous at your forwardness. You take his hand, looking into his eyes to see how he responds to the action. He was now stood between your legs again, head only a few inches above yours. You tilt your chin up, and bring your hand to the side of his face.

“Is this okay?” you ask in a whisper, lips parted and hovering over his.

He nods, giving you permission to follow through with your plan of action. You gently place your lips on his, finding them to be soft and inviting. He kissed you back, shakily bringing his hand to the back of your neck.

You could tell he was incredibly nervous. You were used to guys kissing you hard and fast, with little buildup, all tongue and grabbing. Which was alright after a few tequila shots at a frat party, but not your favorite. This kiss was nice. Slow and gentile and in the moment. You liked initiating it, and you liked that he was kissing you back, but not trying to eat you alive.

He pulls away, eyes wide and making contact with yours, “was that… was I…?” he starts a few statements but can’t seem to find his words.

“I like you Peter,” you take his hand again, “I think you’re really cool.”

“Thanks, I…um,” he was blushing furiously and was looking down at the floor, “I like you a lot too.”

“Would you maybe want to come with me to a party on west campus this weekend?” you ask, “You know, like, as my date?”

He breaks out into a big goofy smile, nodding and giving you hand a squeeze. The two of you go on to talk more about his spider, you tell him how awesome it is and how you can’t believe how smart he must be to make something like that. He never lets go of your hand, squeezing it tightly the whole walk back to your dorm building.

Saturday rolls around and you stand in your dorm, not knowing what to wear to this party. You settle on an outfit that is the perfect blend of cute and sexy, and head down the hall to meet Peter. You give his door a quick few knocks before he opens, eyes wide looking at you.

“You look really, really good y/n,” he compliments you and you bashfully tuck your head into the crook of your shoulder, “I mean it.”

The two of you relax in his dorm room until you get the text from a friend that its time to head to the party. You can tell that Peter is a little anxious, he doesn’t seem like the partying type, but you wanted an excuse to spend some time with him. You grab his hand reassuringly and walk together out of your building, meeting up with a group of friends.

They tried to play it cool, but your girls kept indiscreetly mouthing things like “holy shit he’s so hot!” and “where did you find him?” as you walked towards the party. You rolled your eyes and brushed them off, clinging to Peter’s arm.

The party was nothing special, just a typical college party. People were drinking, dancing, grinding, smoking, mostly drinking. You whip up some quick cocktails for you and Peter and join him with some of your friends in a more secluded area of the frat house. You made sure to stand close to Peter, tucking yourself closely into his arm. You wanted everyone to know you weren’t there alone, and you wanted Peter to feel like you were his for the night.

You weren’t quite done with your first drink when you noticed an off energy from Peter. You wanted to bring him to this party as your date, but never really considered if parties were his thing or not. He was talking and joking with you and your friends, occasionally taking a sip from his pink cocktail, but you could sense an underlying sense of discomfort.

“Hey,” you pulled him into a secluded corridor, “what’s up?” You kiss him quickly, wanting to show him that you were having a good time with him. He kisses you back and your heart flutters. You love the feeling of his tentative lips on yours, light and soft.

“Just at a party with the most beautiful girl here, that’s all,” he says jokingly, but kisses your cheek after to show that he means it.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, “I feel like you aren’t having a lot of fun.”

“Are you kidding? I love spending time with you,” he says earnestly, realizing what you meant, ‘“but parties aren’t exactly my scene if you haven’t noticed.”

“I’m noticing,” you joke, “and I think the two of us alone in one of our rooms would be much better.”

You lean up to kiss the side of his neck, leaning your head into his shoulder. Your wide eyes meet his, observing that he definitely agrees with you but is still very nervous. He nods at your suggestion, and the two of you abandon your cocktails on a coffee table and leave the house.

“I didn’t mean to imply anything, “you say sweetly, “I really just like spending time with you, no matter where it is.”

“That means a lot,” you see a smile creeping onto his face.

“Your room?” you suggest, “mines kind of a mess right now.”

“Sure,” he responds, “not that I mind mess though.”

The two of you make your way up the stairs and down the hall to Peter’s room. You instinctively kick off your shoes and set down your bag.

“Sorry if I ruined the night,” he apologizes nervously, “I just don’t really fit in with big crowds like that.”

You can tell that he feels genuinely sorry. “Peter,” you start, “are you kidding? I meant it when I said I like spending time with you no matter where. We could go to a party or the dining hall or the robotics lab, I don’t care, I just like being around you.”

“You mean that?” he looks at you apologetically again.

“Of course I do, I’ve really liked you ever since we first met,” you admit. You walk over to him, snaking a hand around his neck and bringing his face closer to yours, “I really mean it.”

You lean in and kiss him, with more passion and want than the kisses you had shared before. You latch your lips around his lower one, sucking a little. He is warm and slightly apprehensive. You kiss him deeper, trying to prove that you wanted to be with him. You let your tongue roll over his bottom lip, opening up the kiss.

A slight moan from the back of his throat catches your ear, and you keep kissing him deeper, knowing that he likes it. His hands have made their way to your hips, although you are the one guiding the kiss.

Before he realizes it, his back is up against his bed and the two of you are falling backwards onto it.

You land slightly on top of him but refuse to break the kiss. You love the feeling of his soft tongue against yours, lips parted and meeting halfway. Your hands tangle themselves into his brown curls, another soft moan leaving his mouth when you tug a little at his roots. You continue to suck on his bottom lip as your fingertips begin to graze the stripe of exposed skin between his pants and his pushed-up t-shirt. You can feel the muscles in his stomach tense up underneath your touch.

His heavy breathing comes to a harsh stop with a sharp intake as you run your hands flatly across his toned stomach.

“Are you okay?” you ask, concerned, as he seemed to seize up the moment you started touching him.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to- I just- Ugh I’m sorry if I’m bad at this. I just don’t really know what I’m doing.”

You bring a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw, wrapping your hand in his reassuringly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to try and impress me or anything. I’m really enjoying myself so far, you’re a really good kisser, I promise.” You bring your lips back to his, cupping his face in the process.

He scooches back onto the bed, sitting up. “I don’t think you understand,” he starts, you can tell he’s on edge, “I’ve never really done this before. I’m… a virgin. I guess I just feel stupid, cuz I want this to be good for you, but I’m sort of clueless.”

“Okay,” you look him dead in the eyes, holding tightly onto his hand.

“Okay?” he asks, still feeling all over the place from telling you.

“Yeah, okay,” you try to play this as cool as possible, you want him to feel nothing but comfortable with you, “Peter, it’s fine, it's okay if you’ve never slept with someone.”

His eyes are wide and he’s still trying to read your reaction, “I promise I don’t care, and we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just like spending time with you, no expectations.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” you had moved up on the bed to sit next to him at this point, legs still tangled together, “I’m just an idiot, and I feel bad, like you probably don’t want to sleep with someone who’s bad and inexperienced, and I really just want to make you feel good but I don’t know how…” he was frantically rambling at this point, face still flushed red.

“Peter,” you say slowly, trying to get him to focus, “I’m gonna be straight with you right now: you’re the first guy I’ve met in a long time who isn’t an egotistical asshole. You’re really sweet, and that’s honestly so hard to come by, I feel lucky to have met you. I can tell you’re super nervous, and you shouldn’t be. I like you a lot, so if you want to spend the night with me that’s cool, and if you don’t then that’s cool too.”

“Really?” you answer his question with a soft kiss, resuming the contact that you had before, “You’ll tell me if I'm horrible though?” His anxieties were slipping through again.

“I could… ya know, show you,” you suggest, his face lights up, “and if you’re bad it will only be a reflection of my poor teaching skills. And if I’m going to be completely honest with you here, most guys who are super experienced are still trash at sex, so the fact that you’ve even expressed concern about making me feel good gives you a massive leg up on most, so don’t sweat it.”

“You’re so fucking cool,” he brings a hand back up to your cheek, “sorry if I’m acting like a neurotic mess, I just honestly didn’t ever imagine being in this position with someone as beautiful as you.”

You feel yourself blushing at his compliment, pressing your face into his large palm. He tentatively guides your face to his, meeting your lips with his. You were glad to have had this conversation with him, because he kissed you with much more confidence. He was now sure of himself.

You decide to take the lead and swing your opposite leg over his lap, straddling him. You let your hands run up and down his arms, exploring his strong biceps, his toned sides and flexed stomach. You feel his tongue peek into your mouth, and you invite him in with an open-mouthed kiss, rolling your wet tongue against his.

You let your hands settle back in his hair, remembering how he liked it before when you gave it a tug. You found your hips rolling slightly into his with each kiss, effectively pressing your center down onto his. You couldn’t help but notice how hard he was, straining against his pants.

“Peter,” you say breathily into his mouth, “can I touch you?”

“Fuck,” his hips buck up slightly into you at your question, “please y/n.”

You let your hand trail down his stomach, fiddling with the hem of his shirt for a second. You tug at it, signaling for him to take it off. Before you could even take in the sight of his beautifully sculpted body, you trailed your hands underneath the waist of his pants, palming him above his boxers.

You knew you should move slowly, take your time with him and let it build up, but your senses were going wild. You wanted nothing more than to feel his cock in your mouth, inside of you. It felt so perfect in your hand, and although you couldn’t see it, you knew it was nice.

“Peter,” you whisper again between breathy kisses, “your cock feels so good in my hand, so hard for me already.”

You feel him shudder underneath you as you move from his mouth down to the underside of his jaw, sucking on a spot while you continue to jerk him off.

You slowly take care of the button on his pants, sliding them down his legs. The moment of separation makes you realize his hands had been placed firmly on your hips. After his pants were kicked off his legs, you grind down onto him again, less fabric separating you this time.

“Do you want to touch me?” you ask seductively into his ear as you continue to roll yourself down onto his clothed, but incredibly hard member. He gives you an eager nod, eyes blown and glassy from all the stimulation he was receiving at once.

You guide his hand from its place on your hip down between your legs. Up your skirt and over the sopping center of your cotton panties, his hands find their way to your center. You slow your movements over him, allowing him to feel around and get a sense of your body. He groans at the immediate contact, noticing the unavoidable wet patch around your entrance.

“Do you feel that?” you ask before kissing down his neck again, “feel how wet I am?”

He continues to meet your movements by pressing his hips up into you. You notice how responsive he is when you talk dirty to him, especially little compliments and words of praise. You could have your fun with this, make him fall apart just by telling him how well he’s doing.

“You did that to me Peter, you make me so fucking wet.”

He lets out a groan into your neck at your words. You take the opportunity to slip your hands under the waistband of his boxers, looking into his eyes for a second for silent permission to continue. You nip at his earlobe and whisper words of praise to him as you fully grasp his cock for the first time. Jerking him off slowly, you grind yourself down onto his hand, letting his fingers press harder into your underwear.

You move your other hand down to meet his, showing him how to rub circles on your clit. Moaning into his skin, you pull aside your underwear, completely wrecked at this point. You grant him access to your slick folds, ready and waiting for him.

“Fuck, Peter,” you fuck yourself down onto his long fingers, letting him comfortably slip inside you, “you’re doing so good, making me feel so good.”

You arch your back a little, giving him a good view of your face as he twisted his fingers inside you. You sit straight up, perpendicular to him now. Your full weight pressed down onto his hand, his middle two fingers fluttering perfectly inside of you with little instruction. You expose your chest by removing your shirt before leaning your arms down onto his shoulders. You grind your clit against his palm as his fingers work inside of you.

“Oh my god, Peter,” you bite your lip, “fuck, you’re going to make me come.”

He gives you a look before stuttering, “I- um, can I…”

“What is it,” you try to ask him genuinely but cant help the moans that slip out, “what do you want?”

“I, uh, I wanna taste you.”

“Fuck.” Your head falls back at his request, hair falling slightly over your face, mouth gaping open.

“Is that okay? Is that a weird thing to ask?” his voice was tentative, which made you chuckle a little considering his fingers were still fucking deeply into you.

“Peter, that’s so fucking hot.” You rush down to capture his lips in yours, letting your tongues meet. You bite down slightly onto his lower lip, knowing you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. You move down flat on your back, slipping off your only remaining garment, your skirt.

He takes the cue and removes his boxers as well, now leaving you both completely naked. You try to steal a look at his hard cock, but he quickly moves down in between your legs. He looks at your dripping pussy with wide brown eyes, a mix between glowing and uncertainty.

You start to give him instructions, trying to fulfill your role as teacher, “You can just- mmmmhhh fuck,” he meets his warm tongue with your entrance, licking a wide stripe up the middle.

“Fuck, just like that,” he continues to lick and suck, “and you can add a- fuck, Peter.” He always seems to know what you’re going to tell him seconds before you say it. He dips his two, already wet, fingers back into you as he sucks on your clit.

You arch your back, grinding yourself into his tongue slightly. Through pants, you tell him how close you are, how well he’s doing. With a final flick of his tongue, you clench around his fingers tightly and scrunch your face up in pleasure. Your hips gyrate against him, thighs shaking, hands grasping at the sheets, at his hair, at anything.

You let out his name with a strangled moan, knowing he would love hearing his name come from your lips as you reached your high. “Peter, fuck, Peter,” over and over.

You pull away slightly, telling him he can stop. You flop back, panting, hand coming up to your forehead.

“Um, was that? Was I okay?”

You couldn’t believe that after you had been writhing and coming underneath him, he would still question himself like that. “Yes,” you were still a little out of breath, “that was really fucking good.”

You move down the bed to meet him, pulling him into a deep kiss. You relished in the feeling of his warm mouth, the taste of yourself on his lips. You wrap your legs around his torso, kissing him more fiercely.

You look up at him, hair a mess and face red, “I want to make you feel good now.”

“I mean, we don’t have to, like, you don’t have to…”

“Peter,” you wrap your legs around him a little tighter, “do you want to fuck me?”

He groans slightly and thrown his head back, hands coming down to grab your ass.

“Please,” he half moans as you attack his neck with your tongue, “I really want to.”

“You have condoms?”

“Mhm, just give me sec,” he doesn’t want to stop toughing you, but untangles your bodies to move over to the side table drawer. He stands next to the bed, fiddling with the unopened condom box.

You have a devious idea, and decide to position yourself at the edge of the bed, legs propped up behind you, ass in the air, hands and mouth perched and ready for him. He turns slightly, condom package in hand.

“Before you put that on,” you bat your eyelashes up at him, “I want to taste you.” You quote his words from earlier as you take the base of his cock in your hand, pumping it slowly.

“Can I?” he gives you permission before you slip the tip between your puffy lips. He is fully stood above you as you take him into your mouth, gagging a little on his length. You bob your head back and forth, giving him the perfect view of your ass.

You run your tongue firmly against the underside of his shaft, giving a harsh suck to the spot where the body met the head.

“Y/n,” your name was shaky in his mouth, “I need to fuck you right now.”

You like the directness in his tone and reach up mid-blow to take the condom from him. You flip around, so you are now simply seated on the edge of the bed, Peter still standing. You rip the foil with your teeth and take the rubber out.

Pumping his shaft a few times before rolling the condom on, you bite your lip and look up at him, “I’m so fucking excited to have you inside me, gonna make me feel so good.”

You were impatient, so you simply laid back on the bed where you were sat, letting your legs dangling off the side. You could tell he was too impatient to move either, as he ran his cock up and down the length of your entrance, waiting for your signal to push into you.

You motion for him to grab your legs by the thighs, allowing him to fuck into you deeply.

“Holy shit,” he grunts out as his length fills you for the first time. You arch your back and grind yourself against him, letting out little desperate moans mixed with his name.

“Fuck, Peter you can move now, you can fuck me.”

Although this was an unusual position for someone’s first time, both you and Peter were loving it. He got to see all of you as he pushed into you, your face, your tits bouncing with each thrust, the way your pussy opened up and took his cock so well. His grip on the back of your knees tightened as he fucked you harder, slightly shaking the bed.

“Oh my god, Peter,” you make eye contact as his hair flops against his forehead with each thrust, “touch me, please, fuck, I need you.”

His stamina was incredible, relentlessly fucking you as his hand seamlessly found your clit, rubbing the tight circles you had shown him how to do earlier. He loved having you splayed out before him, making you feel good, hearing you tell him how well he was fucking you, how you needed more, more, more.

He notices the familiar look on your face as he feels your walls tighten around his length. He moans out, loving the feeling of you squeezing around him. His thrusts become deeper and slower as he brings you to your second orgasm. He observed the way you squirmed when he would touch you one way, back fully arched when he would touch you another way.

“Fuck, I-” you try to communicate, “Peter, I want to come all over your cock, please don’t stop fucking me, oh my god.”

He can’t help but close his eyes as he feels you tighten around him for the last time, letting your wet orgasm drip all over his dick. You shook underneath him, legs vibrating under his grasp. Your mouth fell into a perfect Oh, and the sounds that were coming from your lips almost sent him over the edge.

He wanted to keep fucking you though, he never wanted to stop. He wanted to make you feel good over and over for the rest of forever. You were coming down from your orgasm, still letting moans and words of praise fall from your lips to him. You loved how you could feel his dick twitch a little when you told him how good he was doing.

Fully fucked out from your last orgasm, you wanted to move onto the bed for him. You move back, causing him to slip out of you. For a moment, he thought you were done, which would have been fine, he only wanted what you wanted. He would just have to go take care of himself somewhere else…

It wasn’t until you moved up onto the bed and propped yourself up on all fours, arching your back perfectly for him, leaning down onto your forearms.

“Peter,” you coo to him, “will you fuck me like this?”

He couldn’t find the words to answer, only to hop onto the bed over eagerly and position himself behind you.

“Just grab my hips and- fuck,” he filled you up perfectly, rucking your hips back onto him with his hands.

The feeling of his strong hands grasping your hips, and his dick perfectly hitting that spot inside you was almost enough to push you over the edge for the third time. You had no control over the noises that were leaving your mouth, and you suspected the same was true for him.

His hips were snapping directly into yours, and you could feel his cock swell a little inside of you. He didn’t have to tell you for you to know he was close, but regardless,

“Y/n,” you name barely made its way past the grunts and profanities, “I’m gonna, fuck, I’m-”

You felt him fuck deeper into you, hitting a new spot for a few thrusts that made you see stars. You couldn’t do anything but fuck yourself back onto him and scream his name. His orgasm washed over him, his sweaty chest quickly falling to meet your back. His hands grasped around you, something in between a hug and gripping for dear life.

He pulled out of you, and rolled over onto the pillow next to you.

“How was that?” you asked, less nervously than how he had asked you earlier, but curiously, “for your first time?”

“I-” he couldn’t even begin to come up with the words to tell you how fucking amazing it had been, he pulls you down for a long kiss, sweaty foreheads meeting. “We can do that again, right?”

You let out a laugh, “right now?” with raised eyebrows.

“Nonono, just like, in general?” he already knew your answer with the way you smiled at him.

“Peter, nobody has ever made me come like that, of fucking course we can do it again.”

You offer to take care of the condom, and head over to the bathroom to pee and clean up. Peter laid back with eyes closed, feeling unreal about what had just happened. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander to all the things he wanted to do with you. He wanted to use his spider strength to lift you up, fuck you against a wall, in the shower, on the floor, everywhere and in every position.

You returned with a hand towel for him, “Was I an okay teacher?”

“You tell me,” he joked.

You flop down on the bed next to him, letting your sticky body tangle with his in a new way.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he tells you, “but I think there are some new things I want to show you next time.”

You look at him with raised eyebrows, and let out a giggle as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of your hair softly. You couldn’t help but feel a little flustered at the notion of fucking him again, of getting fucked by him again. But also, the notion of spending more time with him just in his bed, wearing one of his nerdy t-shirts and getting your hair stroked as you doze off to sleep.

#peter parker smut #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #spiderman smut #spiderman fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman #peter parker #marvel smut #college!au #praise kink baby #oof #im soft #anon #request #smutty #smut #smut fanfiction

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roseytoesy · 3 years

Text

Truth or dare?

Fun idea about how the others learned about Roses strange interest in being eaten.

It was game night at the HOL and a few desks had already been destroyed over the past few board games so they moved onto safer party games since the other option was Mammon's idea for card games and no one wanted to deal with his smugness and betting with those games.

Asmo was currently pulling up a list of popular party games on his phone while everyone was getting some snacks and drinks. Rose was the last to sit i the circle that everyone desired to sit in. She was next to mammon and beel, and she was very happy with this arrangement. “Ok!” Asmo chimed, “I have found the perfect game for us to play. It’s called- *insert demonic speaking*” Rose looked at him wide eyes as the others nodded their heads and agreed to the game choice.

“Excuse me what the heck is it?” Rose asked looking very lost as the weird deep dialect she heard come from Asmo’s mouth. Mammon turned toward her looking annoyed then his face changed when he saw how startled she was.

“Oh ya, I ferget ya humans can’t understand infernal yet. It’s basically like that human game called truth or dare. when one person or demon picked someone else to choose they say ‘kasha ligasha’,” he said slowly so she could mimic it later, “and then the other chooses kasha or ligasha, in yer case just saying truth or dare will be fine.” He explained looking at Satan to be sure it was. Satan nodded thoughtfully then nodded at Asmo.

“Ok then, now that everyone is ready we pick who starts. Whoever slept the least last night starts first. The others look at Lucifer and Levi since they are notorious for their awful sleeping schedules.

“Four hours” Lucifer stated. The others were a bit surprised that he got an extra hour in last night. Levi looked away and mumbled under his breath.

”Oi ya gotta speak up nerd!” Mammon jeered. With a glare Levi loudly said, “th-three and a half hours!” Rose gave both of them a disappointed lion that had Levi sulking and Lucifer sitting just a bit taller.

“Also!” Rose interjected loudly. Hesitating a bit when the others looked her way. “Sorry, but I just remembered how dangerous the dare side of truth or dare can get, so I’ll quickly set some rules for that so then I don’t have to argue how I can’t do certain things.” Lucifer and Satan nodded, while the others looked either offended or disappointed. “First, no inappropriate dares, such as stripping, any touching of inappropriate areas, or having to see or watch anything like that either. Second, nothing to dangerous for me as a human, such as extreme heights, dangerous animals, or possibly poisonous items.” She looked at them as they nodded and looked thoughtfully into space. “Ok that’s about all I can really think of for now. Levi you start.” She finished and sat down cris cross between the second and sixth born. Levi looked around then glared at mammon. He then pointed at him and said

“mammon! Kasha ligasha!” Mammon sat up a bit tall and said ligasha. “You will work a whole week to pay off the amount you sold my limited edition controller the other week!” Levi said triumphantly. Mammon’s eyes went wide but he stayed quiet and nodded. A small chain appeared around his wrist to be sure he follows through with the command. Rose looked at it curiously. “Oh right, ya get three counters in the game, ya can use those counters to say no to whatever the command was. But after ya are out, ya can’t say no to anything anymore, and ya can’t leave the game until someone ‘dares’ ya out” Her eyes widened at the higher stakes of the game but the others were watching mammon and she didn’t think she would be able to walk away from this game anytime soon.

Time passed and the game continued, a few times the group got up to see the dares that had to be fulfilled. Like mammon having to try and pay Cerberus’s head, or see how far Beel can throw a stick. Or have Rose show her favorite dance and share it with the others. By now a few hours had passed and Rose had just used her last counter to move past a dare of trying to teach Solomon to cook the next day when he comes over to see Asmo. She would rather not see how such horrors of edible foods could be created, even a simple sliced apple and peanut butter recipe somehow went wrong. No thanks. A few more truths are said a few silly dares for others then it was Asmo’s turn. He turned to Rose with a sweet smile but malicious glint in his eyes. He stomach sank at that wicked smile, she couldn’t risk any more dares and luckily she didn’t have any deep dark secrets or anything horrible to hide that could be forced out of her.

“Kasha ligasha, Rose?” he purred. “kasha” she said frowning and hoping he wouldn’t prod at some uncomfortable subjects. He hmphed a bit and sat a bit in thought. “Tell all of us what is something you hide from everyone? something you look at in the dark of night, think about it at bad times~” he said and smirked as her eyes widened in almost a panic. One thing instantly jumped to her mind but she couldn’t tell them that! there had to be something else she kept. But as she tried to scramble for something else she felt magic start to burn her lips. suddenly words she didn’t want to say were spilling out from her glowing lips.

“So basically I like something called vore and its this thing where people get eaten whole. in the things I like its safe and stuff. but I didn’t want anyone to think I was weird or disgusting especially for liking the idea of being safely in a stomach and also the fact that its very frowned on online and in media so I feel ashamed...for liking...it.” the magic made her ramble quickly. Luckily the others weren't saying anything and were sitting quietly trying to decipher what she had said. So Rose cast an actual counterspell to get away from the game and rushed off to her room with a beat red face. Even when Asmo called out for her to stop she didn't. she couldn’t face them after admitting something so awful.

“nonononononono. Dang it.” she mumbled as she crawled into her large pillow pile to hide. This technically wasn’t the first time admitting it to someone, it ate at her, pun intended, at times and sometimes it was nice to vent about the weird subject. Then usually by the next day the friend either forgets or doesn’t care. Didn’t matter it still bothered her that being a place so deadly, so uncontrollable, in the center of someone's body, would be what she dreams about, something so disgusting that she finds her mind pondering the insane idea... What was wrong with her. And now she's just admitted liking the idea of being eaten to DEMONS! this couldn’t get any worse. Luckily the others didn’t bother her for the rest of the night and mentioned nothing the next morning but she could tell they wanted to say something but not while around the others. Eventually they all ask about it or, like Satan, Asmo, and Lucifer, they look it up. (bad idea) and try to understand why it was wrong to fantasize it.

It wasn't as bad as she thought and only a week after the confession those fantasies become a reality she can be in.

#Obey me #My writing #hope you like it #took a while to write #but whatever #I just wanted it to have the right feeling to it #honestly it is hard to talk about #fricken sucks #but at least im not judged here #Obey me!

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kiatheinsomniac · 4 years

Text

Huntress V

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV] [Part V]

When (Y/n) awoke, she was in an unfamiliar room, no longer at the doctor’s. It was fairly cramped and the windows were boarded up to prevent any sunlight from getting inside, leaving the candles on the desk as the only source of light.

The bed took up most of the room albeit it, it was small and very low down. Opposite the bed was a desk and chair — papers had already been pinned above the desk and Ezio stood with his back to her and was laying some items out over the table, seemingly taking an inventory. There was a hatch on the floor which (Y/n) assumed was the exit.

She sat up and looked around, rubbing her eyes before throwing the blanket back to examine her legs — big mistake. She gasped and pulled it back over her figure, causing Ezio to turn around to face her. The vampire had heard her wake up but didn’t feel the need to turn around until hearing her sound of distress.

“Where are my clothes?!” She exclaimed, holding the sheet over her bare chest.

“Relax. It’s been a few days and I thought they needed to be cleaned. If it makes you feel any better, I sent for a woman to change you.” He continued as he crouched down beside her, watching as she held the sheet tighter and shuffled back a little. His dark eyes locked with hers for a moment before he reached for the blanket at her feet. Her hand darted out to grab his wrist, stopping him.

“What’re you doing?!”

“Checking your bandages.” He replied, “I have no ill intentions for you, (Y/n).”

“You know I can’t believe that. I tried to kill you twice and then you saved me from execution. Why would you do that unless you wanted something?” She narrowed her eyes at him. But her glare wasn’t as hard as he had seen it before: she seemed cautious, confused and painfully aware of how vulnerable she was in that moment.

“Because I want you to change your mind.” He replied, feeling her grip of his wrist soften and moving his large hand to hold her smaller one. “You’ve been on the wrong course for so long. What will killing vampires achieve? Satisfaction? Why not go out there and kill the men who took your sisters, hmm? Kill them and everyone like them who would strip you and other witches of your freedom. Stop them from putting anyone else through that pain. Fight with me, not against me. Fight for a world where we can all choose the path we lead.” The idea seemed to roll in her mind and she sighed, not wanting to share her thoughts on it just yet and raising the sheets to reveal her bandaged legs instead.

Ezio returned to the desk and grabbed a pouch before returning to her side and removing the bandages. (Y/n) hissed when he prodded her a little too hard by accident, causing him to mumble his apologies as he inspected the wound. Her skin was raw and blistered and she winced at the mere sight.

“The doctor prescribed this ointment.” He spoke as he pulled it from the pouch and (Y/n) opened and closed her palm to signal for him to hand it over. She opened the lid and smelled the contents.

“This won’t do anything. If I had my stuff, I could get the spell to cure it.” She grumbled as she handed it back over.

“Would it still be in the Doge’s home?” He queried.

“Yes, but he’s surrounded by guards now, no doubt.” She replied, “But I’m worried I’ll suffer from infection under this doctor’s work. I’ve never trusted them, we just don’t know enough about the human’s biology yet. I’ll stick to my own remedies.”

"And there are no other copies of this remedy?" He asked, raising a hand as he stood.

"No, I came across it myself by accident after a fight when I was working with whatever ingredients I could find." She replied, frowning at her bandaged legs. "And if it's any motivation for you, that book you stole pages from is also in that bag."

"It is?" His eyes lit up, "Where have you kept your things?" He queried.

"The trunk at the end of the bed in the spare room." She replied, "Though, I'm worried that they may have got rid of my things when they arrested me."

"Va bene, I'll send someone to check and see if they can recover your belongings." He replied as he got up and reached for the handle of the hatch on the floor.

"Don't go anywhere." He finished as his head disappeared down below and the door fell back into place.

"I think my blisters are security enough for that." She rolled her eyes before swinging her injured legs over the side of the bed, holding the sheet around her form in case Ezio came back, assuring that it was wrapped securely around her slim figure.

She stood upon the wooden floor and winced at the pain in caused, gripping onto the table to sturdy her balance - it had been a few days since she last walked and she was feeling the effects of it. She opted to lean one hand on the table in order to try and get back to her usual self, not wanting to be idle anymore.

She reached towards the pages pinned to the walls - sketches and annotated diagrams. It showed a sphere was unusual markings that was called a Piece of Eden and 'the apple?' hastily written beside it as well. There were annotations about some of its known abilities: mind control, illusion and so on. (Y/n) could recall a few mentions of this artefact from the book which she had stolen from the Doge's study but these must be the pages which he had torn from it. Personally, she had been much more interested in the staff that it had documented so she thought very little of these few mentionings of the apple.

Strewn over the desk were various maps and lists: some were maps of regions in Venice with different locations circled and crossed out, some areas marked with squares around buildings. But she could not find any key to decipher what any of these meant, perhaps it was just one that Ezio had kept in his mind. There were lists of different names and information provided by contacts. There was a scroll of various papers that was bound with a black ribbon. She opened it up to reveal contracts assigned by Lorenzo de Medici.

"The Medici?!" She whisper-yelled to herself. How many people did this vampire know? The contracts spoke of enemies to the Medici rule that needed to be dealt with. Some of them were checked off by Ezio but others were yet to be completed. Perhaps he intended to finish them once his work in Venice was done?

There was a noise from below and (Y/n) looked back to the hatch, seeing Ezio climb up a ladder and re-enter the small room which they seemed to be sharing for the time being. She didn't act hastily in rolling the contracts back up again. If he wanted her to trust him then he would allow her to know everything that was going on; especially seeing as he had previously told her how much was hidden from her beforehand.

"I've sent someone to try and collect your things but we can't guarantee she'll be successful." He began before holding out a bundle of white silk and linen to her, seeing as all she had to protect her decency was a bedsheet. "I also got this for you, one of the ladies has let you borrow it until we can get your clothes back or buy you some new ones."

"Thank you." She mumbled as she took the clothing and held it out with one hand, seeing the length of it and how revealing it was.

"Is this lady a courtesan by any chance?" She scoffed as Ezio turned around to face the desk once more in order to allow her some privacy as she changed, his back now to her.

"Yes, actually. We're above a brothel." He replied and (Y/n) sighed as she stood on the bed (due to the lack of space) and dropped the sheet, pulling the shoulderless dress on over her head and pulling the thin layers of the skirt down, still feeling awfully revealed by the open-cut front of the dress and how the stay sewn into it barely contained her breasts. She almost fell to the floor in the process, her legs still weak, but she managed to support herself on the wall.

"Ok, I'm done." She huffed as she pulled the front of the dress down carefully, feeling anxious about her lack of clothing underneath, all while not wanting the bodice to shift with it. Ezio looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened for a moment before flickering down her body and a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips before he looked away once more.

"I saw that," (Y/n) grumbled as she sat down, letting her legs fall off the side of the bed.

"It was only a quick look." He replied in a laddish tone with a hearty laugh at the end.

"Not for you, it wasn't. I wasn't born yesterday, Ezio, I know how quickly your kind can move when wanted." She was replied with another laugh from him.

"Art should be admired, no?"

"You're not doing yourself any favours in getting in my good books here." She finished as she walked over to one of the boarded-up windows.

"Don't touch those." He said, not raising his gaze from one of the maps on the table.

"What's stopping me?" She countered, knowing that she had the ability to severely injure him just by prying a board back and allowing the sunlight to pour in. An arm wrapped around her torso, restraining her arms by her sides and a blade was pressed to her throat in a moment. The cold metal rested against the hot skin of her neck and she reeled her head back to try and put some distance between herself and the weapon, ending up leaning her head back onto his shoulder.

"This." He growled in her ear, not wanting her to get any ideas about attacking him while he was vulnerable during the time that he was treating her. He truly wanted the best for her but he would never be able to achieve that if both of them didn't command mutual respect. She twisted her body to the left a little, elbowing him in the gut and giving her the moment she needed to turn around and shove him away.

"Still not doing you any favours for getting on my good side." She grumbled as she leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. He didn't seem to mind her shoving him, it not really having much of an effect seeing as she was already weakened by her injuries. "Don't do that again." She mumbled, making her way over to the desk to watch what he was doing. After realising he had taken out a very specific map of a building, she became curious as to what it was.

"What're you looking at?" She asked, wrapping her arms around herself as she felt a sudden chill.

"It's a map of the Basilica, there's something that I need. . . Would you shut up?" She was taken aback for a moment after he spun in her direction to say that, opening her mouth to retort when she saw that he was, in fact, looking behind her. She turned her head and jumped backwards with a yelp, her back hitting Ezio's chest in the small space that was the secret loft of the brothel. Suddenly she understood the chill.

She'd never been sensitive to spirits in the day, perhaps that's why Elizabetta's ghost had managed to appear behind her, undetected.

Her dark locks fell down her back and her eyes were a piercing green, poking like needles into whoever caught a glimpse of them. Her skin was strikingly pale and (Y/n) could see the punctures over her neck so easily in their short distance - a reminder of what Ezio was capable of doing to her. The naked ghost took a step closer as she continued to speak silently, lips moving but not a word coming out.

Whether he meant to or not, Ezio's arm made its way around (Y/n)'s waist, trying to push her behind him in the small distance. The witch turned her head to glance up at him, seeing the look of irritation on his face as he regarded the dead woman.

"I've heard enough. You won't scare me Elizabetta, and you won't make me change my mind." There was a pause as she clearly scoffed, (Y/n) only wishing she could hear what the spirit was saying. "Why would I listen to you? I know that your only goal is to see me fail." His voice was rising and it was clear to (Y/n) that Elizabetta had hit a nerve.

"Begone, you're no longer welcome here for the time being." (Y/n) cut in, watching as the woman's emerald eyes narrowed angrily, somewhat surprised that the huntress had even cut in before she vanished like smoke.

"What did she say?" (Y/n) quizzed, turning around to face him.

"She. . ."He seemed to trail off as he looked down at the woman in his arms, his hand resting on her lower back, tilting his head down to meet her gaze before closing his eyes. He sighed and stepped away, turning around, "I'm not entirely sure yet, all I know is she was trying to get under my skin and she succeeded to a degree." He reached a hand out to smooth down the top of her hair.

"Get some rest, it'll do you no good if you tire your legs out. We're going to be moving once the sun sets then I'll be heading out to see what I can find out about the Doge's whereabouts." (Y/n) didn't like being told to sleep as though she were a child and it was her bedtime.

"Fine, but I won't be staying inside your next hideout while you look for the Doge. If your courtesan doesn't return my things, I'll have to retrieve them myself and if I can't then I'll have to buy some new clothes. You may think that I'm fragile because I’m a witch, Ezio," She added as she sat down and pulled the blanket over her lap, "but it hasn't stopped me in the past and now that I have a new score to settle, it certainly won't stop me now."

"Revenge is a painful road, belleza," Ezio spoke wearily, recalling what his own path was.

"And it seems it's a pain we both know all too well."

#Ezio #ezio auditore da firenze #ezio auditore #ezio x reader #ezio auditore imagine #huntress #vampire #vampire au #ezio auditore vampire au #au #witches #halloween special #spooky season #assassins creed #assassins creed 2 #ac #ac2 #assassins creed x reader

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98prilla · 4 years

Text

To The Dead

AO3

TW talk of death, injuries, violence, blood, emotional manipulation

...

It was Roman, who had the next encounter with the newest ghost. He was drawing in the living room, when he heard a soft noise, a soft whoosh, the sound that usually accompanied one of them entering the space. He didn’t think anything of it, assuming it was just Logan, who tended to be quiet, or Remus, trying to sneak up on and startle him.

After a moment of no other noise, he turned around, brow creasing as he saw no one there. He shrugged and went back to his drawing, only stopping when he heard another small sound, and he froze, catching a flicker of shadow out of the corner of his eye, from behind the couch.

“Virgil?” He asked softly, careful not to turn his head, not to look directly at his hiding place, the shadows sparking slightly faster at his words. “Hey, hey, it’s ok. I’ll stop talking to you, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The shadows started to calm, and he could see his outline slowly stabilizing. He went back to drawing, letting the silence linger, letting them both settle, before he grabbed a pen and piece of paper, and slid it backwards, under the couch to the edge of the wall. “I know you like to draw. I always loved watching you. You made amazing things, Virgil.” He said gently, kindly, trying to convey all the warmth and empathy he felt for him in those simple words, wishing he could reach out to him. But that would only make him run.

Instead he turned his attention back to his own drawing, those his ears were attuned to behind the couch, smiling slightly as he heard the tell tale scratch of pen against paper.

It was hours later, when he felt something hit his leg. He looked down, seeing the pen and paper, hearing whoosh of Virgil vanishing as he picked up the ink drawing, if he had any breath, it would have been taken away. It was a portrait, of himself, his face drawn and serious, his cavalry sabre drawn and pointed skyward, eyes reflected in its sheen. He pressed it to his chest, smile tugging at his lips. Quickly, he scribbled a small thank you, and tucked it back behind the couch. Hopefully, Virgil would find it there, the next time he popped in. The drawing now hung front and center above the desk in his room.

Their astral space had shifted to accommodate a new ghost, of course. They did all still like a little privacy, a quiet space to call their own, to decorate with items summoned from memory, or copies of things that resided in the actual physical space of the house that they’d interacted with or seen, and their abode reflected that, creating rooms for each of them. A sixth now lined the hallway.

The change was slow, at first, but by the next week, it was plain to see. The door was darkening, changing, a deep violet color creeping up the previously plain paint. It could only mean one thing, and that was that Virgil was actually using it, spending time in there, the space being influenced by his presence.

But he still hadn’t come out. He refused to respond to them, no matter who it was at the door. Janus’s gentle words, Patton’s soft kindness, Roman’s stubborn talkativeness, Logan’s calm tone, did nothing to coax him out of the room. Sometimes, they heard him moving inside, heard him sniffling or crying, and it broke Patton’s heart.

Virgil had been so young, just twenty, he’d had his whole life ahead of him, and one person had made him so sure he was an utter waste that he was convinced he’d done the best thing by dying. All he wanted was to hold Virgil in his arms, comfort the poor boy, his paternal instincts were kicked into overdrive and it was driving everyone, including himself, mad. It certainly didn’t help the tense worry that had settled over their odd little household.

Virgil was curled in the corner of what he supposed was ‘his room’, now. It was dark, deep shadows cloaking every corner of the space, walls a deep violet that was nearly black, ceiling unviewable through the cloudy smog that hovered up there constantly. A bed had formed against one wall, and he was wrapped in the thick purple black plaid comforter.

Janus was right. It was easier to hold his form in this space, the astral plain, he’d called it. Whenever he did slip back to the physical plain, he turned into a pulsing orb of darkness, which was weird, and definitely would take some getting used to. It didn’t feel… bad. Just different. It was like his mind and thoughts and consciousness were all that he was, like he could see 360 degrees, everything around him all at once, but it wasn’t disorienting or overwhelming, like he would’ve thought. It was like his mind was in overdrive, processing everything, and he couldn’t focus on forming his limbs, making himself any kind of presentable. Not that he cared. Was easier to hide, keep out of the way, as a blob of shadow, anyways.

It was quiet outside his door right now. They must have given up, for the moment. Hopefully for good. He wished they’d just stop trying. He didn’t deserve their care and attention, he wished they’d stop wasting their time and effort on him.

His body was gone. He didn’t know by who or how it had been found. He’d probably been missing long enough He had called the police, or come looking, he hadn’t cared to check. He’d heard the disturbance, felt it, but he ignored it. It didn’t matter. They could throw his body in the dump for all he cared, it wasn’t like it meant anything, anymore.

Not like anyone would come to his funeral, anyway. His family was all dead. He didn’t have a job. When he was in school he’d worked a few part time ones, but his anxiety kept getting him let go. And when he was with Him, he wouldn’t let him get one. Didn’t want him screwing up and having it all come back on Him. Of course, He’d also always complained about how little he contributed to their relationship, then got angry when he brought up the job thing, so he’d just stopped mentioning it, after a while.

Just another proof of his cowardess.

“Watcha doin?” He hissed, jumping five inches in the air, form wavering for a moment at the spike in fear, nearly slipping back to the physical plain from the startle. After a moment, he stabilized, glaring up at the ghost hovering upside down in the air, walking along the foggy clouds of the ceiling, green eyes aglow.

“Which one are you?” He asked, and the ghost tsked.

“Nuh uh, I asked you a question first, my miasmic musketeer.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, tugging on the ends.

“Question for a question? Fine. But I reserve the right to pass on anything.”

“Fine, but if you pass, I get a free pass on whatever question I want. Now spill it! Watcha doin? Cause it looks a loooot like moping.” He spluttered at that, scowling.

“I’m not moping. I’m just… thinking. Now, who are you? I haven’t heard your voice through the door.”

“Remus is what I go by. Don’t remember why I chose it. Probably just liked the sound.” Remus shrugged, slowly cartwheeling through the air. “Why haven’t you opened the door?”

“Pass.” Virgil choked out, shadows sparking off his edges.

“Boo, already? You’re no fun.” Remus pouted.

“How’d you get in here? I thought no one could get in.” Remus shrugged.

“They can’t. I can go wherever I want. And I wanted to see what you’d done with the place, so I came in.”

“Wait, why can you-”

“Uh, uh, uh, not your turn!” Remus sing songed, and Virgil groaned, sinking further into his blanket. “Now, why won’t you go meet the rest of them?” Virgil’s eyes flickered, voice echoing as he answered.

“Pass. Why can you get in here and they can’t?”

“They’re ghosts. I’m a poltergeist.” Virgil’s brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to ask a question, surprised as with a flick of Remus’s wrist, his jaw clicked shut, stuck that way.

“You are terrible at following the rules. Logan would like you, all those curious questions rattling around. He knows all about ghosts and poltergeists, if you’d talk to him, he could answer all your questions. Wouldn’t even make it a game. So. Why won’t you talk to him?” Virgil glowered for a moment, before Remus grinned, teeth sharp and eyes swirling, as he flicked his wrist once more, unclenching Virgil’s jaw.

“Don’t do that again.” He growled, Remus’s smile growing. “and what do you care, whether I speak to them or not?” He asked, barely containing the whispering chorus behind his words.

“I don’t, really. But it’s no fun playing by myself, and they’re all too torn up about you to pay any attention to me. I’ve made the walls bleed, ooze sticky black ichor, tentacles come out of the toilet bowl, flies hatch out of the floors, and nothing! Not a single scream, or scolding, or lecture, or anything! Do you know how frustrating that is? These things take time, people, is too much to ask for a little acknowledgement?!” Remus bemoaned, landing on the floor, angry scowl on his face. “And it’s all because you won’t stop sulking.”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t feel up to socializing at their pity party for me, I don’t want their attention, and the sooner they get that and give up, the sooner everything can go back to normal for you!” They both paused as they heard a noise outside the door, likely Logan, based on the quiet hum of thought and sound of page turning. Virgil yelped as Remus’s eyes glowed, and he found his body moving without his permission.

“What are you doing?” he hissed, feeling like a clumsy marionette.

“If you won’t open the door, then I’m opening it for you.” He sucked in a breath as he took a stumbling step forwards, fighting the control.

“Remus. Stop.” He gritted out, feeling dizzy.

“Ummmm, let me think about it. No. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you give me a good reason why.” He growled, trying to spin back around to face Remus, only succeeding in forcing himself to a standstill, his anger countering Remus’s power, his shadows finally exploding outward in rage after a long moment of silent battle as he rounded on Remus, sparks flying off him, his form growing and shifting, becoming a void of light as he glared, bared his teeth, growls and hisses and distant distorted screams echoing from deep in the growing shadows.

“I don’t need a good reason. I don’t need to justify myself to you. I don’t need to justify myself to them. I don’t need their pity. I don’t need their care. I don’t want it. I don’t deserve it. So if you could tell them all to shut up and leave me alone, that would be great!” Virgil screamed, a thousand voices bouncing off the walls, the noise overwhelming, deafening, the growls turning to roars.

Not much could overwhelm Remus. Not much had the power to. But the darkness that swept him up, consumed him in twisting, fracturing nothingness, the endless noise so loud it was silent, the empty, swirling void of dread that filled his stomach, clouded his mind, sunk into his soul, scared him, and with the force of a hurricane, he let the dark tide carry him, spit him out, hearing a yelp from Logan as the door slammed open, the tide smashing Remus against the wall before retreating, retracting, vanishing back underneath Virgil’s skin, his form solid despite the fear and anguish rolling off him, strong enough it made Remus shudder and Logan recoil.

“what’s wrong, Remus? Am I scaring you?” Virgil asked, voice a duet of deep bass and high keening, darkness swirling just below his paper pale skin, his eyes dark voids of emptiness, head tilted to the side, a dark smile on his lips as he stepped forwards, tilting Remus’s chin up from where he had slumped against the wall. “Can’t take what you dish out?” Remus shuddered again at the wash of desperate fear that clouded his mind, transferred from Virgil to him.

It set his mind aflame. It burned him up from the inside out, images and thoughts flashing through his mind so fast he could barely keep up with them. Fears, he realized. His fears. Roman, bayonet through his stomach, gurgling on his own blood as he slowly drowned on dry land. Janus, hands wrapped around his throat, crushing it, breaking it, until his airway collapsed and his eyes closed, lips turned blue. Logan, neck bent at an unnatural angle, eyes open and glassy, a trickle of blood escaping the corner of his mouth, body twisted and bruised and bleeding. Patton, his spirit slowly breaking, his heart cracked in two as his life faded into grays, colors draining out of his life, phantom laughter of a little girl echoing in the emptiness, cold emptiness beside him in a too large bed, until it devoured him completely and he took the pills, gave in to the darkness, clutching a family photo to his chest.

“please. Virgil, stop. Please.” His voice was hoarse. He wasn’t sure if he’d been screaming or not, but it certainly felt like he had, gasping as Virgil’s hand drew back as if burned, tears tracking down Virgil’s face, mouth opening and closing several times, before he staggered backwards, clutching at his own head, shaking it vehemently.

“you wanted to know why I wouldn’t open the door.” Virgil choked out, shaking as his eyes returned to their normal dark violet, arms wrapping around himself as the roaring, raging shadows vanished back to the corners of his room. He felt about two seconds away from collapsing, dizzy and weak, trembling from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. “well, now you know. I’m just… just a monster. Just… just stay away. It’s safer for everyone. Just leave me alone.” He near begged, feeling sick, at what he’d just done, what he’d made Remus see, what he’d seen from Remus, it was stuck on repeat in his mind, stuck on a loop, and his not necessary breathing hitched in response to the panic creeping up his spine. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, slamming the door closed, collapsing onto his bed, weakly managing to summon the comforter to him from where it had been discarded on the floor, curling into a tight ball underneath it, too numb and drained and dizzy to do anything else.

Silent tears slipped down his face as he closed his eyes, dread haunting his every moment as the shadows of the room descended upon him, wrapping him in their cold embrace, purposefully drawing them to him so they wouldn’t slip under the door and go torment the others. He wouldn’t let them do that. They didn’t deserve to deal with his bullshit, if he was going to be the monster, the villain, the bad guy, he was going to be his own worst enemy. He was not going to hurt the others, not even Remus, not ever again.

21 notes · View notes

diyunho · 5 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “John Wick” Part 1

Y/N left The Organization 3 years ago for the one reason strong enough to make her settle down: love. But after tragedy crushed her to pieces, she decided to leave The Joker and seek refuge with an old friend and mentor - John Wick. Needless to say The King of Gotham can’t accept his wife running away without a word, especially since he didn’t have a chance to tell her things she might want to hear.

Part 2 Part 3

Your high heels click on the marble floor, numerous conversations stopping in the hotel’s lobby since you haven’t been seen around in the past 3 years. The concierge can’t hide a smile and you take your sunglasses off, finally making it to the front desk after driving for hours.

“Welcome to the Continental, Miss Y/N. Such a pleasure to see you.”

“Thank you Charon,” you remove 7 gold coins out of your purse and slide them on the counter towards him. “It’s good to see you too.”

“For how long will we have the pleasure of your company?” the man inquires, taking a peek at the computer’s screen to make sure he can shuffle things if needed.

“One night.”

“That will only be 4 coins,” Charon informs and you point out at the tiny pile:

“The rest is for you.”

“Thank you, Miss Y/N,” he smiles again, typing on the keyboard. “Your old room is available; it will be a couple of minutes for us to add a few finishing touches.”

“Sure. Is the manager here?” you ask because you texted him this morning to announce your arrival.

“He’s waiting at the bar,” Charon gestures towards the elevator and you take a deep breath, excited and a bit nervous about the upcoming encounter. “Also, if I may… Allow me to express my deepest condolences.”

You bite on your lip and can’t utter a sound besides nodding your head instead of a reply: although it’s a genuine declaration, it caught you off-guard.

You slowly walk towards the elevator and once inside you press the B button when a hand halts the doors from closing; you know whom those tattooed knuckles belong to. Ares squeezes inside looking like she wants to kill everyone. What else is new?

“I thought that was you,” the woman uses the sign language and you silently gaze at her.

“Which floor?” you sign back.

“10th,” her thumb indicates the number.

The elevator’s doors shut and she analyzes Y/N, deciding to continue the conversation:

“Remember I told you next time we bump into each other I’m going to kill you?” the mute assassin’s threat brings a faint smirk on your lips.

“Shut up,” you elbow her and the smartass response doesn’t fail:

“I’m always as quiet as a mouse.”

You chuckle and Ares grins at her own cleverness, having a nice suggestion for the evening.

“I have the night off; wanna meet later for dinner?”

You are tired as hell but a distraction doesn’t hurt.

“Will 7pm work?” you accept the invitation.

“Awesome!” she signs, delighted you two can catch up. “They have new items on the menu you would enjoy,” Ares winks then her enthusiasm gradually dies out. “I’m sorry about…,” the discussion takes a serious tone and you sniffle, trying hard not to cry.

“Thank you,” you touch your chin and the ding sound reveals its first destination. “I have to bail; I’ll see you soon,” you step out of the elevator and she remains inside.

“It’s a date!” she signs, concerned you’ll burst out in tears as soon as she’s gone.

Yet after the elevator’s door close, Y/N manages to pull herself together; God knows it’s not easy to pretend she’s fine following the tragedy of losing someone she loved with all her heart.

The individual waiting for her at one of the tables at the bar can definitely notice the struggle behind the tired eyes; Winston sipps from his martini and gets up, opening his arms in anticipation.

“There you are,” he gives you a hug, then invites you to sit down.

“Hello Winston,” you place your purse on the floor and Continental’s owner is attempting to small talk:

“Please make an old man happy and confirm your return.”

“You’re anything but old,” you emphasize while he snorts, amused. “I’m not sure; I have to figure out some personal stuff…”

“Of course,” Winston agrees right away given the situation. “Mmmm… I’m terribly sorry for your loss,“ he addresses the heartbroken Y/N.

“Thank you…” you mumble, avoiding eye contact since the painful subject hurts more than any physical wound you ever sustained.

“I wanted to come attend the funeral yet I was out of the country,” the man underlines.

“No worries. I appreciate the flowers you sent… …”

Moments of complete stillness before Winston changes the topic; he knows better than to prolong your agony. A manager with his flair can at least guess the extenuating circumstances that led to your presence on the premises.

“Any plans for the near future?”

“I’m going to stay with Jonathan until I decide.”

Winston wishes to suggest a couple of options but he’s interrupted by your warning:

“Someone might come searching for me.”

He taps his fingernails against the martini glass, the weak echo dissipating in the background noise.

“Is that someone…somebody’s husband?” his furrowed eyebrows prompt an answer not difficult to estimate:

“More like… ex-husband…”

The manager inhales, debating on your confession.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” he reassures without any hesitation; heaven knows a domestic dispute is the last kind of mess Continental needs but it will probably pass undetected. “Would you care for a drink?”

Suddenly, Winston’s cell goes off and he retrieves it out of his suit’s pocket, apologizing for the delay.

“I’m sorry, I really have to get this,” he slides the screen, attentively listening to the person speaking. “Are you kidding me?!” the man raises his voice with contempt. “Damn…,” he rubs his forehead, annoyed. "Well, he brought it upon himself! Transfer me,” the manager passes the sentence without hesitation after his call reaches the correct department. ”Accounts payable: 11111. Effective immediately: Magnus Stonnenberg, excommunicado. Open contract: 2 million dollars. Distribution: international,” and he hangs up. “Work never ends,” Winston adds even if it’s not necessary; you are perfectly aware how the company works and what it means to run it.

“What happened?” you curiously investigate.

“Trouble on the 15th floor: Magnus murdered Anuscka Volovdya on the hotel grounds, thus I have to implement punitive measures. This is neutral environment and the rules are clear: no killing. Cocktail?” he lifts his glass up and you politely decline.

“No, thank you. If it’s all the same, I will retreat to my quarters. It was a very long drive and I can’t wait to freshen up. I will come see you in the morning before I leave; would that be ok?”

“Of course,” Winston stands up in the same time with you, a faint smile lingering on his face as he watches you distancing yourself from the bar. He didn’t see you in a long time and he can tell that although you look pretty much the same, something has certainly changed.

Everyone’s cells start chiming and ringing, including yours: the text messages keep on popping up with the manager’s most recent order regarding Stonnenberg.

You wander along the small corridor leading the stairs when at the corner Magnus almost crashes into you; he seems distressed and no big surprise due to his present predicament.

“Are you back?” he hisses while quickening the pace in the opposite direction because he wants to get the hell out of there.

“No,” the short acknowledgement triggers his cockiness mixed with relief.

“Great! One less to worry about!”

You frown at the unnecessary statement: pursuing a bounty is not financial gain you are momentarily interested in; you have more important problems on your plate and chasing a persona non grata isn’t on your list.

************

Next evening, 7:13pm

“There you are!” John exclaims as soon as he sees you. “Come on in,” he grabs the two suitcases out of your hands, leading the way around the house. “Did you get stuck in traffic?”

“Yes,” you close the door and follow him into one of the bedrooms downstairs already prepared for your visit. “Traffic was terrible, took me one hour to pass Lincoln Avenue.”

“Well…” he places the luggage by the bed, “I’m glad you made it.”

“Me too… Thank you so much for letting me stay here, Jonathan.”

Despite having his hair in a ponytail, the shorter strands slide out and John blows them off his cheeks, irritated.

“Yeah, absolutely. Plenty of space.”

“What’s that smell?” you sniff the air, intrigued.

“I cooked chicken Alfredo.”

“Oh no,” you crinkle your nose and he laughs at your despair. “Are your skills as bad as I remember?”

“Worse,” he admits. “Helen is not here to guide… me…”, John swallows the last word and you feel compelled to soothe his grief.

“I’m sorry she’s gone… You had a terrific partner…”, you sadly smile and continue . “We pay such a heavy price for leaving the organization… I must say you got a better deal than I did.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds and you could swear there’s no trace of Baba Yaga inside him; I suppose this is John Wick’s greatness: his ability to switch from an apparent normal guy to the deadliest assassin in a blink of an eye.

“Umm… do you want me to help you unpack?” he breaks the silence and you lift the first suitcase on the bed, opening the metal clasps.

“I don’t have a lot; just some basic necessities,” you explain and gulp when you take out the device you use on a regular basis. “I… I still pump the milk and… and throw it away since I don’t have my baby to feed anymore…”

Jonathan exhales, sensitive to the mother’s sorrow: he knows a thing or two about losing a loved one and Y/N uncontrollably sobbing triggers emotions he kept bottled up for weeks. He pulls you in his arms and you hug him back, hopelessly crying on his shoulder after displaying such restraint in the past days.

“Why didn’t he drive the car? Why?” you keep on repeating the question and John understands what you’re referring to:

Two months ago The Joker was supposed to bring his three weeks old son from the beach house to The Penthouse and didn’t; he had a meeting and instead he sent one of his henchmen to drive Kase back to you and they never made it. There was a horrible accident on Glissan Street: the car was smashed to pieces by a huge truck, both driver and the baby dying on impact. You couldn’t stop blaming your husband for his indifference regarding the safety of his own child. I supposed the meeting and making money was infinitely more critical than driving his son home.

Maybe if J navigated the vehicle, he would have taken another route and you would still have your tiny treasure right now.

You’re calming down a bit and John wipes your tears, upset to see you broken beyond anything he could ever fix.

“Do you want to lie down?”

“No,” you whimper and fight to regain your composure. “I’m a little bit hungry…”

“Well,” your friend puckers his lips, “depending on how bad it is we might have to order something. Shall I…call anybody for you?” he hints and surely didn’t predict the reply:

“My anybody is probably too busy with his mistress or planning a heist, can’t be bothered with any type of insignificant matters.”

Your friend seems shocked and you enlighten the mystery for him:

“I followed J so I know… That’s why I decided enough is enough. I packed minimum necessary in a hurry and left… … …I should have killed him… …” your voice dies out and your attitude proves Jonathan that you most than likely tried to. “Can we eat now please?”

“Should I actually order Italian?” he plays along for your sake.

“I’ll try the chicken Alfredo first.”

“Shit! You’re brave,” his brutal honesty makes you giggle and whimper in the same time. “C’mon then, food’s on the stove. Hopefully we’ll survive,” he smirks and you nod in agreement, grateful to have a soul to talk to since your husband’s lack of empathy made it so much harder to cope with your son’s demise.

***************

Same evening, 7:30pm – Continental Hotel

“Mister Joker,” Winston greets The King of Gotham. “Welcome to New York!”

The gush of wind sweeping the terrace on top of the building messes J’s locks and for once he couldn’t care less.

“Hello Winston,” your spouse growls, barely able to concentrate after he slept a couple of hours the previous night.

“Grape juice on ice?” the manager’s hospitality emerges out of necessity because The Clown isn’t exactly the easiest character to accommodate.

“Is my wife here?” J quizzes, ignoring Winston’s cordiality.

“Walk with me,” the hotel owner persuades your husband; they move alongside the concrete path bordered by decorative shrubs as information is shared. “Y/N was here.”

“She’s gone?”

“Yes.”

“Where did she go?” The Joker sneers.

Winston fails to spill the beans and J is aware he can’t push for a disclosure, not with a high ranking member of the organization. So he attempts a different strategy.

“Imagine my surprise when I returned home after a meeting just to find out my wife abandoned the nest,” he shows management a post-it with your handwritten note:

Do what you want with the rest.

“She just took a few things, thus I have to personally discuss with her a very crucial dilemma: what am I supposed to do with the baby’s items? I have a room full of them. So I’m asking: WHERE.IS.MY.WIFE?”

“Mister Joker, you forget that in my line of business I am good at reading people and I can tell when they lie,” Winston elegantly throws it out there for the heck of it.

The King of Gotham halts and cracks his neck, displeased with the comment.

“Then tell me, am I lying?!”

The manager sighs, carefully analyzing J’s features: although he looks pretty much the same, something has certainly changed.

“Maybe she’s staying with a friend,” he insinuates and your husband articulates a sentence rarely spoken aloud:

“Thank you,” J stomps away, already having a few ideas about your whereabouts.

Winston huffs, intrigued to have discerned a crazy detail while reading The Clown’s reactions: besides the fact he wasn’t lying, something else stood out.

“He loves her…” management mumbles to himself. “I bet he doesn’t even know it.”

*************

10:34 pm

John softly knocks at the cracked bedroom’s door, unsure if you’re awake or not.

“Y/N, do you need anything before I go to sleep?”

There’s no answer and he creeps inside only to see you passed out with your hand hanging over the side of the bed. Jonathan tucks you in, feeling awkward about your unresponsiveness.

“Hey, are you ok?” he gently shakes you and freezes when he realizes there’s an empty pill bottle on the nightstand.

“Oh God!” he panics and reads the label. “Trazodone 300 mg: Take 1 tablet by mouth nightly for depression/insomnia.” That’s the highest dose for the medication and he taps on your cheeks, concerned you took a bunch of them at once. “Y/N, Y/N! Can you hear me?!”

You moan and open your eyes, unhappy to be woken up in such a hasty fashion.

“Jesus, lemme sleep... would you?!...” you grumble and turn on the other side, groggy from the drug.

“How many sleeping pills did you take?” John doesn’t give up and you yawn:

“One…my last one…” you adjust your body on the comfortable mattress, not comprehending why your host is agitated. “I’m exhausted…” you close your eyes and he lingers next to your bed, relieved the situation was a misinterpretation from his part.

**************

11:32am, New York

“Oh my…”The Bowery King deciphers a missive a dove flew in 10 minutes ago; he got a whiff of some valuable data yesterday and the new documentation is by far the best conspiracy and revenge scheme he stumbled upon this year. “Would you look at that,” the man grins, caressing the bird’s feathers. “What do you think?” he addresses the winged companion. “Should we be nice and tell Y/N and Mister Joker their son is not dead?”