#he turns off his headphones sometimes just to eavesdrop

[mercy-burning]

Pretty Please

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader hears something surprising from her next door neighbor, and it throws her off. Category: Smut 18+ (masturbation, thigh riding, penetrative sex, oral sex-male and female receiving, semi-rough sex, dom!Spencer) Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: Nothing except the smut listed above and strong language. As always, if there’s anything I missed, let me know what I should include in the warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!

PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4 / EPILOGUE

***

There's no way she heard that right.

In fact, she was pretty sure she'd made it up. She was tired, delirious, and she'd only imagined hearing what she heard.

Right?

Just to be sure, Y/N sat up in bed, put her ear against the wall just above the headboard, and listened, concentrating as hard as she could to confirm or deny.

And sure enough, the next thing she heard was, "Fuck, yes!"

It was muffled, definitely not as loud as it could have been, but if things continued the way she thought they would, it was going to get louder. Unless, of course, her neighbor was mindful, knowing that someone could probably hear what was going on. Though, for some reason Y/N doubted that.

Just to be extra sure what was happening, she stayed glued to the wall, listening carefully.

There was some muffled movement, but it could have been just about anything. Nonetheless, her heart was beating so fast, and it beat even faster when she heard what came next.

A loud female moan, unmistakable and utterly pornographic, made Y/N close her eyes immediately, her heart practically jumping out of her chest. Her first thought was Okay, he's watching porn. Everyone does that. Not without headphones, but it's completely normal and I should stop eavesdropping and go about my own life because this is an invasion of privacy.

Her second thought was ...Oh.

Because she was dead wrong.

The next thing that sounded through the walls was, "Yes, Spencer, just like that!"

Y/N's eyes shot open and she almost had a heart attack.

Her next thought was Good for him...

She and her neighbor hadn't really gotten to know each other that well. All she knew was that he had a job that kept him away from home quite a bit, either from travel or just late nights. He was shy and rarely talked to her when they met in the halls or in the parking garage, or even in the laundry room. Which is why it was so surprising to Y/N that he was having sex—and decent sex at that, from what she could hear—right next door.

Not that it would have been impossible for him to get it, of course. He was hot as hell, and it shouldn't have surprised Y/N as much as it did that she was hearing what she was hearing. It had just never happened before.

She was about to let it be, glad that her neighbor seemed to be having some fun, and it truly wasn't any of her business what he decided to do in his spare time. Though, the next thing she heard sent her into a tailspin.

"You like that, baby? You like when I hold you down and fuck you?"

Y/N almost hit her head against the wall. Instinctually her legs crossed, as if it would prevent her from being turned on. Which was stupid, considering every nerve in her body was on fire hearing those words come from Spencer Reid's mouth.

No fucking way, Y/N thought, slowly shifting her position on the bed.

It was a stupid idea. Probably one of the dumbest things she's ever done. But she closed her eyes, and as the woman's moans became louder through the walls, every slap of skin on skin getting louder with them, Y/N's right hand drifted under the waistband of her panties and got to work.

She couldn't help imagining what was going on. And it was rare that she could get off on just imagination alone, but this time she had the helpful addition of sound to aid her. Every time the woman moaned Spencer's name, she moved her fingers faster, alternating between rubbing her clit and completely fingering herself. And sometimes Y/N would make inevitable tiny whimpers of her own, careful not to give herself away.

She was almost to her climax when she heard it. The thing that pushed her over the edge.

"Fuck, you take it so well, pretty girl."

That one sentence, added to the impending orgasm Y/N was experiencing and the fact that she was picturing Spencer's face so clearly in her head, caused her to let out a loud moan and throw her head back against the wall with a loud thud.

So many feelings happened at once. Pain, because fuck, hitting her head on the wall without expecting it hurt like hell. Pleasure immediately after, because despite everything, her fingers stayed working, instinctively nursing herself through her orgasm. And finally embarrassment, because she definitely shouldn't have been eavesdropping on her neighbor's sexual encounters and she's positive they'd heard her intrusion.

All noises ceased for a total of two seconds before Y/N came down from her high and the sex next door resumed like nothing had happened.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck, no, Y/N thought as she scrambled out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Her head still hurt from hitting it against the wall, but that was the least of her concerns. More than anything she wanted to crawl in a hole and never return. And sure, maybe there was a small chance Spencer and his.. friend hadn't heard you, but it was practically impossible. There was no way they hadn't heard it.

Y/N peed and washed her hands, tapping her foot nervously against the cool tile the whole time. Eventually she calmed her breathing and decided that she'd just have to live with it. I mean, it's not like I'm friends with him anyway, she thought. I barely see him enough as it is, and I can ignore him like there's no tomorrow and nothing will change. Right?

And so she washed her face and got ready for bed, trying desperately not to think about how badly she'd embarrassed herself.

And then as she curled under the covers (with earbuds in just in case) she thought, Maybe I'll make him some muffins tomorrow and say I'm sorry.

The last thing she saw before she closed her eyes was Spencer's face.

***

"What's wrong? Can't take it?"

She practically burned with pleasure, every inch of her body overly sensitive and completely fucked out. But she'd let him have whatever he wanted.

She cried. She tried to tell him that yes, she could take it. But tears and strangled moans were all she could manage as he continued to fuck her into the mattress.

"You gonna cum?" He asked, like she could form words.

She cried out again in answer.

He leaned forward, wiping tears from her face, and whispered, "Go ahead, pretty girl."

That was the last thing Y/N heard before she woke up, eyes shooting open and hands clutching the sheets so tightly her fingers ached. She let them go and tried to wiggle them back to life, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath.

"Oh, dear Lord," she muttered, stretching out and realizing that the past 10 hours of her life were going to haunt her for a long time.

I'm gonna have to move, aren't I, she thought sarcastically, sitting up slowly and rubbing her eyes. Though, right now it sounded like a good idea.

Y/N gathered some clothes and went to the shower, refusing to think about last night or the dream she'd woken up from. Instead she lasered all her attention to thoroughly washing her hair, body, and face. By the time the water was running cold, she stepped out, dried off and got dressed, brushing her teeth and then leaving the bathroom to turn on the coffee pot.

Before she could, there was a knock on the door.

Oh no, was her first thought, because naturally the first thing you do at any minor event after severely embarrassing yourself is panic. What if that's him? He's going to get mad at me for eavesdropping. The first thing I'm going to do when I see him is blush and panic. Fuck.

Y/N thought about ignoring it for a second. For all Spencer knew, she could still be sleeping. She could have fled the country immediately after giving herself away. She could have died from a heart attack, literally embarrassing herself to death. She could ha—

Knock knock knock.

"Shit," Y/N muttered to herself, adjusting her freshly-washed hair and praying she looked okay. If it really was Spencer at her door, she wanted to at least look like she was moving on with her life and not thinking about last night every waking second.

She ran to the door, took a deep breath and opened it, sure enough revealing Spencer Reid in her doorway, wearing a kind smile and holding a small something in his hand.

"Oh... Spencer, hi," Y/N said, pretending to be happy. Not that she wasn't ever happy to see him, but today of all days was most definitely not a good time. She only prayed he wouldn't get mad at her for eavesdropping.

"Hi, Y/N. Sorry for being here so early, but I, uh... thought you might need this."

He handed her what was in his hand, and it rattled, confusing her. She took it and flipped it over in her hands, studying the bottle.

"Advil?"

"Yeah. Seems like you hit your head on the wall pretty hard last night, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Her stomach dropped. "No."

"No... You're not okay, or no, you don't need it?"

Heat rushed to Y/N's cheeks and all she could manage was another, "No."

She only sounded slightly terrified.

But before Spencer could say anything else, Y/N looked up at him and almost started to cry. "I'm so so so sorry, Spencer, I didn't mean to hear, it just happened, and I couldn't help it, and I tried to be quiet, I really did, but it just slipped, and I feel really bad, I'm so sorry, I—"

"Whoa, whoa, Y/N, slow down. It's okay, really," he laughed. "I'm not upset or anything, I just... Truthfully I feel kind of bad for not thinking of anyone hearing. I didn't realize the walls were so thin, and had I known I probably would have... Gone about things differently. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Y/N's heart raced, but she was even more shocked by the fact that he was apologizing. "Spencer, don't be sorry. I embarrassed myself, really. I shouldn't have been listening anyway— what you do in your apartment isn't any of my business, and I messed up."

He smiled and shuffled on his feet, trying to avoid looking at you but failing. In the end he shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. "Well, in any case, I really do hope your head doesn't hurt too bad. That was a loud thump."

Y/N laughed nervously, turning the bottle over in her hands while looking at the floor. "It doesn't hurt anymore. Feels better now that I've slept it off... Thank you, though. I... I appreciate it."

"You're welcome."

She looked up at him and almost started crying again, still completely embarrassed over the whole ordeal. In an attempt to not cry, she cleared her throat. "Um, I was just going put on some coffee if you... wanted to come in? I can make some eggs or something too, if you're hungry. Y'know, to say I'm sorry?"

Spencer looked like he was about to tell her not to be sorry again, but she gave him a look that said don't you dare, and he settled on nodding instead. "Sure, I'd like that."

***

"Wow. These are great."

Y/N smiled, watching Spencer eat a bite of the eggs she'd made him. "Thank you. It's a family recipe. Nothing too special, but my mom always made them for my brother and I before our first day of school every year."

He smiled. "That's nice. Really, they're great. Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem... Look, again, I really am so—"

"Y/N, stop. It's okay, really. It... happens. You don't have to be sorry."

She nodded before taking a sip of her coffee. Spencer ate some more of his eggs and the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, before it got completely unbearable.

She didn't want to keep bringing it up, but something forced the words out of her mouth. "So, your... guest... Is she your girlfriend?"

It took Spencer a minute to realize what she said, but eventually he cleared his throat, some color forming on his cheeks. "Oh, uh... no. No, I'm single. She and I had just met at a bar downtown. I don't usually do that. Go to bars, I mean. Though I suppose I don't really have one night stands all that often, either, but my co-workers and I were out last night after a... pretty rough day at work, and... before I left we met at the bar and it just kind of went on from there."

"Oh... Well, I... I'm sorry work was rough. Seems like you... handled it, though. Got over it... I mean, like, you knew how to take your mind off of it, or make it better or whatever."

Y/N froze after she said it. Immediately after, she shook her head. "God, I'm sorry. That was dumb. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, I get what you mean, it's okay, really," Spencer said quickly, seemingly amused. "It, uh... It really did help. You know, sex is a good stress reliever. The endorphins it releases puts you in a better mood and calms you down, and studies show that regular sexual activity can aid in decreasing high blood pressure during stressful situations."

"I... didn't know that. Sounds helpful. Especially with your job, I imagine."

He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. "What about you? Is your job stressful?"

Y/N shrugged, kind of glad that the conversation moved away from sexual nature. Though, she supposed the reason it was there in the first place was kind of her fault. In any case, she told Spencer about her job. "It's not as stressful as other jobs can be, but I just got a promotion so all the responsibility is a little daunting, I guess."

"I'm sure you're fine," he complimented, setting his mug down. "Though... If you do ever find yourself beginning to buckle under the stress of your job, sex is a good way to keep your spirits up."

It was a joke. A reference to their conversation, the whole reason they were in this moment in the first place. So why did Y/N respond with, "What, is that your way of offering?"

I'm just full of stupid shit lately, aren't I, she thought, immediately hating herself for saying it. Things were going well, and Spencer didn't seem mad or annoyed after the whole incident, and now she was positive she'd made everything worse.

But nothing could have prepared her for what came out of his mouth next.

"Maybe it is."

She looked up at him and saw that he was completely serious. His eyes bore into her, staring her down like he was trying to compel her to say something, to do something, to put her under his spell. Y/N swallowed, trying to speak, but nothing would come out.

Oh, now you have nothing to say? Good going, Y/N...

Nevertheless, he waited. His eyes remained glued on her, tilting his head to the side and raising his eyebrows as if to ask her, well?

Eventually, she settled on, "You mean it?"

Spencer nodded slowly, staring at her with an intensity she hadn't experienced in forever. "Only if you want to."

Immediately Y/N thought back to last night. His nasty words replayed in her ears over and over again, repeating themselves like a mantra— You like that, baby? You like when I hold you down and fuck you?

And under his burning gaze, Y/N felt like she was on fire. Her lower stomach bubbled over with desire and she imagined him fucking her like he had in her dream.

It's almost like he knew what she was thinking about. Because right before she could tell him she wanted him, he laughed softly to himself. "What are you thinking about, Y/N?"

Her name on his lips sent shivers down her spine. "W... What?"

"Tell me. You're thinking about having sex with me right now, aren't you?"

She could barely breathe. But she managed to get out a strangled, "Yes."

Spencer smirked and stood up, walking around the table but never taking his eyes off Y/N. She swallowed and stood up too, meeting his eyes and tilting her head up to look at him— really look at him. His pupils were full-blown, his lips formed into an amused smile as he reached out to touch her face. She fluttered her eyes closed and leaned into his touch, a small sigh involuntarily escaping her lips.

"How long have you been thinking about me?" Spencer asked quietly, yet the tone in his voice rather demanded an answer more than asked for one.

Y/N opened her eyes to meet his, and almost crumbled under the weight of their intensity. "S-since last night."

He hummed in response, running his thumb over her chin and up to her lips, just barely touching them. "Have you ever thought about it before then?"

She couldn't lie to him. "A few times."

That got a full smile out of him, but it disappeared rather quickly as he stepped even closer and gripped the side of Y/N's face in his right hand, his fingers barely weaving through the hair behind her ear. She gasped and looked up at him, silently begging for him to kiss her. To push her onto the table, or choke her, or something.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded, keeping that even, soft tone. It sent another chill through Y/N's body.

She could hardly breathe. Could hardly form words.

Spencer slipped his hand behind her head and gripped the underside of her damp hair, tugging slightly as she whimpered. "What do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me," Y/N gasped out, completely and utterly entranced by his looming presence.

"Now?" he asked, his own way of really making sure she wanted to go through with this.

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, please, fuck me. Please."

The look he gave her after she said it was purely dirty and unlike any thing she'd ever experienced. She decided then and there that if that was the reaction she'd get from him for begging, she would beg him for anything any time.

Not to mention, the way he kissed her was enough to make any man or woman fly into the sun. Both of his hands found themselves lost in her hair, pulling her head to his and practically massaging her scalp as he glided his lips across hers with a slow burning fever that made Y/N's body completely succumb to him. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, reaching up to twist her fingers through the ends of his hair, admiring how soft and perfect it felt on her skin. Once Spencer's tongue swiped over her bottom lip and softly pushed into her mouth, it was well and truly over. Y/N was done for. He could do anything he wanted and she wouldn't turn him away.

He pulled away for a moment, taking her bottom lip between his teeth before moving back in and angling his head in the other direction, kissing her deeper and causing a groan to slip from her throat.

Y/N desperately clung to his neck, wishing he could do this to her forever, but then he took one of his hands away from her head and brought it to her lower back. He completely pulled her against him, one of his legs slipping between hers and putting the slightest bit of pressure to her crotch.

She whimpered, causing Spencer to push himself against her harder, the two of them completely attached. He brought his knee up just a little, and Y/N instinctively ground against it, desperately wanting to feel any type of friction she could manage. It warmed her whole body to the core, being completely embraced by him, and in a matter of seconds she was more desperate than she'd ever been.

She pulled her face away from his reluctantly, breathing heavily and still grinding against his leg. "Please," was all the could think to say.

"Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" Spencer whispered, peppering her neck with wet kisses as he brought his leg up higher, giving her more access. He leaned his butt against the table for support, until eventually he gave in and sat down on it, bringing her down to sit on his thigh.

Y/N hesitated, halting her movements for a second before he gripped her hips and moved them forward. "Go ahead, pretty girl. Ride my thigh."

She groaned at the nickname and obliged happily, grinding down and rocking her hips against him. He continued to kiss her neck, occasionally biting down and sucking at different spots, sure to leave marks.

He hadn't even really touched her yet, and Y/N was absolutely dizzy, high on kisses and his hands burning into her hips. She felt her stomach start to coil as an orgasm came to the surface, her legs clenching tighter around him.

"You close, baby?" Spencer muttered against her neck, right under her ear. He took her earlobe between his teeth for just a moment before rocking her hips faster, bringing his leg up just a bit higher to aid her. She shoved her head into his neck and cried out his name, somewhere between a whine and a moan.

Within a matter of seconds Y/N was shaking around him, panting his name over and over while he brought his leg just a tad higher, bringing her over the edge. Her mind raced, coming to terms with what just happened and what was about to happen, and it made her tremble again, sending one more shockwave through her lower body before her hips slowed to a stop.

Spencer slid his hands back up to her head, bringing her face to his once more and kissing her. As if she wasn't already so out of breath. But it didn't matter. She only cared about his mouth and the way it captured hers like it belonged there, like it knew she was his for the taking. And she really believed that was true.

Y/N still straddled his leg, but she wanted to give him the same release he'd given her, so she attempted to climb away and moved one of her hands down to his belt.

Spencer stopped her hand and pulled his face away from hers. For a moment she thought she'd done something wrong, and she was about to apologize, but he pulled her close and stroked her hair with his hand, tilting his head to meet her gaze. "Not yet, pretty girl. I want to taste you first."

And without another second passing by, he moved the hand that grabbed her wrist between them and snuck it into her shorts and panties. Y/N jumped a little, but only because it felt too good for her own good. Her eyes fluttered shut when his middle finger grazed her clit, but his other hand gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. "No. I want you to look at me, okay?"

She nodded, and then whimpered when he slipped a finger inside of her. She lifted herself up just a little so he had more access, and sure enough his finger slipped in and out with ease.

She wanted more, but he took his hand away, and the glimmer in his eye when she pouted, visibly frustrated, sent her into another small fit of tremors.

"So antsy, pretty girl," Spencer laughed, slightly amused. Y/N would have said something, but all words escaped her when he brought his fingers to his mouth. His tongue poked out to taste-test before he completely took them in, holding eye contact with her the whole time. As he sucked his fingers clean, Y/N felt herself growing desperate again, and she ground against his leg once more.

Spencer laughed and brought his fingers out of his mouth, resting them on her hips. "You're being awfully quiet, Y/N."

"I... I don't... Is that a bad thing?"

"Not necessarily. But you didn't have a problem being loud last night."

It brought color to her cheeks. Her first instinct was to apologize but she knew he'd chastise her for it, so she didn't. Rather, she embraced the opportunity and pulled herself closer to him. "Is that what you want, Spencer? You want me to be loud for you?" Her voice was soft, somewhat contradicting what she was saying, but she looked at him through her eyelashes, biting her lip as if asking for permission.

And now it seemed like it was his turn to groan, though it came out as more of a growl as he pushed her away from him, grabbing her arm and leading her through the apartment. All the rooms were built the same so he knew where to go. He didn't take the time to scan her room, though if he did it was fast. Y/N barely had any time to react before he pulled her to him again and kissed her roughly.

As his fingers weaved through her hair again, Y/N decided to take a chance, snaking her hands down to his belt. This time he didn't stop her, his lips opening and granting her access to his tongue as she unbuckled the belt. She unzipped his pants and pushed them down his hips, but they only got about an inch down before he pulled away from her completely, leaving her empty again.

She whined, and he smirked.

"What is it, Y/N?" he asked. "What do you want?" His tone was almost condescending, like he knew exactly what she wanted.

She didn't like being teased. "I just want you," she stated, whining a bit to prove her point.

He seemed to contemplate his words for a moment before he spoke. "And... you think I should just give you what you want? After I caught you eavesdropping on me last night?"

He was only saying it to see her flushed. To embarrass her and make her shy so he could make it better in the end. She knew that, knew better, and yet it still worked. "I'm sorry," she pleaded, getting down on her knees in front of him and looking up at him with just as much desperation as she could manage. "You know I feel really really bad about it, just please let me make it up to you. Please, Spencer."

When all he did was look down at her, amused and still, Y/N batted her eyelashes and grabbed the waistband of his pants and underwear. She waited to pull them down until he did or said something, but all he did was stare. She couldn't tell if he was making her wait or if he was waiting for her, and she was afraid of making the wrong decision. But, deciding that she'd been in enough trouble in the past 10 hours to last a lifetime, Y/N took a chance yet again and pulled Spencer's pants all the way down.

Still unsure of what would happen if she continued, Y/N scooted closer, but kept her eyes locked on his. She batted her eyelashes and ran her hands up his thighs, eventually wrapping around to his ass. She brought them up his lower back and around to feel his stomach before sliding down to the front of his hips. She stopped them there, gliding her thumbs over his skin in small circles as she pleaded once more for good measure.

"Pretty please."

Spencer gave in, bringing his hands to her hair and pulling her close. "It's all yours, baby."

The words sent heat straight to her lower half as she flicked her tongue out to taste the head of his cock. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact, and Y/N took that as her opening. She looked down and marveled at him as she took him completely in her mouth, slowly but surely, getting herself acquainted with his size.

Once she set a steady pace, she looked up at him and found that he was absolutely wonderstruck. His eyes practically sparkled as they fixed on her, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in pure adoration and fascination. Y/N took this as encouragement, bobbing her head faster and slacking her jaw as she let him hit the back of her throat with each thrust forward. She gagged once and pulled herself off, bringing her hand up to jerk him for a few seconds before using her mouth again. This was a cycle that continued until tears were streaming down her cheeks and spit was leaking down her chin, and every time she looked up at him, Spencer would groan and tighten his grip in her hair.

Eventually he stopped her, pulling her off of him and panting. "Come here," he whispered, and Y/N got up off her knees, standing up and wiping some of the spit from her face. It didn't feel all that sexy as she was doing it, though the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only thing in the entire world that could bring him joy.

He reached forward and wiped some of the tears from her cheek before kissing her, groaning into her mouth as he did so. His still hard cock pressed against her leg, and she groaned, too, before he pulled away.

That dark glimmer returned in his eye when he spoke. "Take your clothes off."

Y/N didn't have to be told twice. Immediately she threw her shirt off over her head and tossed it to the ground as Spencer stepped out of his pants. His eyes travelled down to her breasts and she noticed him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times before he looked back up at her face. Keeping eye contact and softly biting her lip, Y/N hooked her fingers around her shorts and underwear and slid them down her legs until they reached the other clothes on the floor. She kicked them to the side and tilted her head up.

She thought he might kiss her again, but instead he nodded his head towards her bed. "Lay down on your back."

As Y/N had learned pretty early on, she was quick and eager to obey, and so she did as she was told, laying down in the middle of the bed, her head resting on her pillows and the rest of her body laying flat, eagerly awaiting Spencer's next move.

She watched him as he took his shirt off, leaving him completely bare, and before she had time to admire him, he bent down and grabbed something from his pants.

A condom, Y/N realized as he made his way to her.

"You really came over with the intent to fuck me, didn't you?" she mused, unable to stop herself.

He laughed at her words, climbing over her and leaning down to press his lips to her neck in a soft kiss. "Wasn't it obvious?"

No, she thought to herself, but she didn't say anything. Though even if she wanted to, she couldn't have, because Spencer's mouth moved down her neck and to her chest. He licked a small circle over her right nipple before enclosing it entirely in his mouth, and Y/N arched her back off the bed, running her fingers through his hair.

He laughed again, taking her nipple in between his teeth before releasing it and saying, "I love how fucking responsive you are, pretty girl."

Everything about what he was saying and doing to her sent Y/N into a tailspin. Before she had time to respond, he moved his mouth to her other breast and got right to work, repeating the process.

One of his hands trailed down her body, just light enough to leave goosebumps it its wake, until it reached where she really wanted him. As if to prove his last statement, Y/N's hips bucked upwards to feel more of him, and Spencer laughed against her chest, removing his mouth from her and using both of his hands to steady her hips, pushing them into the mattress. "Can you be still for me? Use your words."

Y/N sighs and bites her lip before answering. "Yes. I can be still."

"Louder, Y/N. You promised you'd be loud for me, remember?"

If she wasn't wet before, she definitely was now. And she thought about just repeating her words louder, like she was expected to, but then something in that stupid part of her brain said to push her luck. And so she laughed back at him.

"No, I didn't."

Spencer seemed shocked. This was the first time she'd blatantly disagreed with something he said. "What?"

He seemed a little mad, but Y/N acted innocent. "Well, I asked you if you'd like me to be loud for you, and you just pulled me in here. You didn't answer me, and I didn't promise anything."

She was scared of what he would do or say, but that turned her on even more.

And without warning, Spencer jammed two of his fingers into her mouth, forcing it open and pressing them down on her tongue. "Well, sweetheart, this is me telling you. You're gonna scream my name until the whole city can hear how needy you are for me."

She almost choked on his fingers, but he took them out and slid them down her chin and neck, leaving her completely breathless. He waited a beat before laughing to himself. "Aw, see? Look what I do to you, pretty girl," he mused. "You're so submissive."

Y/N wanted to argue, but she wanted him more, so she whined and tried to move him closer, to which he laughed again and caressed her face. "That's what I thought. Now be a good girl and wait a second while I put this on, okay?"

For fear of disappointing him, Y/N replied with, "Okay," loud and clear.

He smirked, unwrapping the condom and starting to slide it over himself. "Fast learner."

And in an attempt to patch things over even more, she batted her eyes like she knew he liked, acting patient and innocent though she was pretty sure they both knew she was the exact opposite.

It paid off in the end though, because Spencer rewarded her with a sweet kiss as he ran the tip of his cock over her pussy, just barely entering. He teased her like that for about a minute before she started to get antsy, and yet he didn't let up. He raised an eyebrow at her, and catching on she reached up, grabbing the sides of his face and blinking once before talking. "Please, Spencer. Fuck me."

"Atta girl," he praised before moving forward and entering her. Immediately Y/N moaned, her mouth open and eyes just about rolling to the back of her head. Her hands slid up his face and through his hair, weaving her fingers through the soft waves as he set a steady pace, letting themselves get used to the feeling of being wrapped up in each other like this. For a moment it seemed like he forgot his promise to fuck her so hard the whole city would hear her screaming his name, but after a while, he apparently decided that she wasn't being loud enough.

"Come on, Y/N. You can do better than that."

She wanted more than anything to tell him that if he fucked her harder then maybe she would be louder, but infinitely realized that A) that was a surefire way to get chastised, and B) if she was louder, he would fuck her harder. He was going to make her work for it, and in the end she didn't mind that at all.

So she told the truth. "Fuck, Spencer, you feel so goo— ahh!"

Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, he quickly adjusted and fucked her faster, and aside from the overstimulation, it was starting to feel reminiscent of the dream she'd had last night. She wasn't crying but she felt like she could, every fiber of her being burning alive with pleasure. She felt her orgasm rising to the surface, but she didn't want this to end yet. Maybe if she was lucky Spencer would keep going after she'd finished, though at this point she was just happy to let him fuck her for any period of time.

That being said, he slowed his movements, making each stroke harder and more deliberate, and Y/N yelled out his name, hoping to get more.

"You close, pretty girl? Hmm? You wanna cum?"

The strain in his voice sent another wave of pleasure coursing through her body. He was close too, she just knew it.

"Yes," she breathed, before repeating it louder and louder. "Yes, yes, yes!"

She was just about to fall over the edge when Spencer laughed and pulled out of her, leaving her unsatisfied, empty, and confused.

"What?" she breathed, looking up at him.

He slid the condom off and tossed it aside before jerking himself off over her stomach. "Only good girls get to cum. You should have thought of that before you eavesdropped on me."

And then he came all over her stomach and chest. She would have been more angry, but the whole sight in front of her was hot as hell. Who was she to complain? She watched as his face scrunched up in pleasure, his mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. His hair faintly stuck to his face, and his hips jerked into his hand until eventually he was spent.

Y/N whined at the sight, completely turned on feeling his warm cum coating her skin and also utterly frustrated for not getting off.

Spencer opened his eyes to look at her, and she thought in that moment it looked like he would burst into flames. As his gaze raked over her body, covered in his cum and so obviously desperate for release, he licked his lips and got down, spreading her legs wider and opening her up to him.

"Wha—"

Y/N didn't get to finish her thought, because Spencer was immediately eating her out like a man starved, running his tongue through her pussy, occasionally flicking it over her clit. As expected, the louder she got the more he gave her, and at one point he started fingering her at a relentless pace, curling his fingers up against her g-spot while circling her clit with his tongue.

He brought his head up and looked at her through his eyelashes as best as he could, barely catching a glimpse of her face, completely contorted in pleasure.

"You wanna cum, pretty girl?" he teased, slowing his fingers torturously.

She whined and then threw her head back, pleading. "Spencer, please!"

He only got a little faster and then gently flicked his tongue over her clit again, to which she yelped and fisted the sheets.

In turn he moved faster. And she got louder. Faster and louder, faster and louder, until finally he gave her what she wanted.

"That's it, pretty girl. Cum for me."

Right after he said it, Y/N arched her back off the bed and fisted the sheets even harder, actually screaming his name until it came out as incoherent sobs, eventually dwindling down to whimpering and panting as he aided her down from her high.

Spencer's movements slowed to a stop, pulling his fingers out of her and pressing one final kiss to her clit before removing himself from her completely and coming up to lay down beside her.

She stayed there on her back, arms clutched at her sides, breathing deep and eyes almost heavy like she was about to fall asleep. He brushed her hair away from her face and pressed a kiss to her lips. She could taste herself on him, and it excited her. When he pulled away, she turned her head to look at him and smiled.

"I'm definitely going to have to invade your privacy more often if this is what the end result is."

Spencer laughed, his hand brushing lightly through her hair. "So that was okay? I'm sorry if I was kind of mean, I—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there. If I was really truly mad about anything you did, I would have screamed at you, not for you. Trust me. You're just fine. That was... perfect."

"Good... And you know I was just teasing you about eavesdropping, right? I'm not actually upset about it."

"No, I know. I still feel kinda bad about it though."

"Well, you shouldn't. If anything... something good came out of it, right?"

Y/N laughed, scrunching her nose as he looked at her. "Right."

After a moment, Spencer sat up and looked down at her stomach, a smirk on his face. "I'm gonna go get you a washcloth."

"Good thinking. And while you're at it could you also grab the Advil?"

He was on his way out the bedroom door, slipping on his underwear before stopping in his tracks. "Oh no... I- I didn't hurt you did I?"

"Oh! No, you didn't. I just know that I'm going to be sore, and walking will most definitely be a problem. And I am not getting out of this bed for the rest of the day, so Advil will definitely help. Thank you for that, by the way."

Spencer laughed, leaving Y/N to admire him as he walked away.

[idy-ll-ique]

Breaking The Rules.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader (sort of Winter Soldier x F!Reader too)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Warnings: like,,, lots of murder

Requested: nope

Summary: The Winter Soldier attacks the building where Y/N works and comes face-to-face with her. Surprising her and himself, he lets her go, breaking the rules, not following his orders. Y/N is so thankful about his mercy that she is now the world's biggest Bucky Barnes stan. What happens when their paths cross again 7 years later?

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! Okay so I don't really know if I've done a good job writing this but I tried my best so,,, enjoy!

---

The Asset is not thinking.

The Asset is not made to think.

Casually stroking his gun as he walked into the plain building, he watched the people inside the room pause for a minute. Then the screaming began. He simply stood there, the scene unfolding in front of him as people ran; inside rooms, out the building as they jumped out of windows to avoid him. He let them.

Finally having had enough because HYDRA demands some kills, Soldat, he cocked his gun and started out by fighting the security guards that had an ounce of bravery in them as they approached him with their own guns. He killed them easily. Then he moved further into the building, ending the lives of anyone who tried to get in his way.

What was his purpose of doing this? There was none. He was programmed to kill, and the program had no specific targets. No targets, only kill. He walked up the stairs of the building as more people, who had not been dead, escaped. Then he ended up on the floor where she was.

Y/N was going through a stack of papers, wearing headphones, when she heard a scream. It had been so sudden and loud that she startled badly, the papers flying from her hands as she turned around, ready to give the person a piece of her mind only to be met with the prettiest blue eyes she had ever seen in her life. The breath left her lungs and fear overtook her.

The person in front of her; she had heard of him. They called him The Winter Soldier. He was covered in black leather, his silver arm shining in the sunlight that entered through the window on her right. She quickly glanced at it; she was 10 stories above ground. He had a black mask on (more like a muzzle, she thought) and a peculiar look on his face.

She looked around the room, her eyes filling with tears when she saw the bodies of her coworkers, the friends she had made at the workplace, littered on the floor. Damn you, stupid headphones. She discarded them. He had killed them all. The Winter Soldier didn't really have a say in what he did, she told herself, he had been programmed to act like that.

Nothing but a murder toy for HYDRA.

And she hated them for that.

"Don't cry." She looked back at the Soldat, her eyes wide in confusion. Huh? Why would he say that? She blinked away the tears and started raising a hand to wipe them off when he suddenly raised his gun. Her hand paused mid-air and she held her breath, waiting for him to finally put her out of her misery as her eyes unconsciously watered once more.

When he saw her hand, though, her palm was facing him. Ready to rub off the tears, he noticed, and he lowered the gun. "Don't cry," he repeated and Y/N, as absurd as she found the situation to be, did as he ordered. She wiped the tears off and rubbed her hands on the jeans she was wearing, staring at the man. He stared back at her.

When he first entered the floor, he had done what he had been told, until there was no one alive in the room. Or so he thought, until his eyes landed on Y/N. She was wearing some sort of a device over her head, completely oblivious to what was going on. Was she deaf? Did she not hear the gunshots?

As he approached her cautiously, someone screamed behind him. And he saw how the papers flew out of her hand she whirled around, her big, doe eyes blinking at him until recognition sparked in them. Then she cowered. For some reason, as he looked at her, he couldn't bring himself to harm her. She looked… adorable, almost. So he did what he did best.

Stared.

Her eyes were darting around the place, and they watered when they landed on the bodies on the floor. He gulped quietly under his mask, something inside him stirring uncomfortably as he watched her cry. And suddenly, he couldn't help himself. "Don't cry," he blurted out and she looked back at him. He stared. She blinked rapidly and started raising her hand.

Thinking she would raise a hand on him, he immediately held up his gun as a warning but realized that she was simply drying her tears, new ones in her eyes as she looked at the gun. And he suddenly felt very apologetic. "Don't cry," he repeated and allowed her to wipe her tears. But he was surprised to hear her speak.

"Please don't hurt me."

She was shaking, arms going around herself, but she wasn't crying. At least she was not crying. He didn't reply, only stared as a foreign, almost forgotten word came to mind. Pretty. She was pretty. Soldat or not, how could he bring himself to harm a pretty thing like her? He raised his gun again when he remembered his orders; kill, do not show mercy.

The pretty woman started crying again, this time her tears were much more prominent. "Please, please don't do it, please… I have done nothing to you, don't do it…" she pleaded, fingers intertwined as if in prayer. Kill her. But he ignored the order and lowered his gun again.

"Pretty," he stated and her brows furrowed. Y/N blinked at him, pretty? Did she hear that right? He called her pretty, right? "Pardon?" she blurted out and his head tilted to the side. "Go." His voice sounded strained and for a moment, Y/N wanted to embrace him, to comfort him but hurriedly dismissing the thoughts, she turned on her heels and ran out the building.

The Asset stared at her as she ran.

He had not been programmed to think.

Then why had he?

---

"Guys, I'm telling you, it was so surreal—"

"Oh my God, Y/N, will you stop—"

Steve, Sam and Bucky glanced at the group of ladies that ended up at the bar next to them. A few years had passed since the incident between Bucky and Y/N took place and he was back to normal. No longer the Winter Soldier; he was an ally of the Avengers now. Steve glanced at his friends, lips curling into an amused smile.

"What do you think they're talking about?" he whispered and Sam snickered quietly. "Why don't we listen?" Bucky simply shook his head, but was also kind of intrigued at this surreal experience that Y/N talked about. Y/N… that name sounded kind of familiar to him, but maybe it was a common one, what did he know?

"He called me pretty!"

"We know he's hot, Y/N, but seriously, the Winter Soldier did not call you pretty."

The three men froze and their eyes darted amongst each other. "He did," Y/N whined, "I'm telling you!" Bucky almost dropped his glass but managed to hold on, his jaw dropped. Thankfully the ladies were not aware of the men shamelessly eavesdropping on their conversation. "Wait wait wait, what is this about you and the Winter Soldier? I've not heard that story."

"Ugh, Sam, you've done it now!"

Steve and Bucky glanced at Sam with smirks and he rolled his eyes. "Samantha," he snarked but the super soldiers only shrugged in reply. "Okay okay, this was like… 7 years ago. I was in my office, working, when our building was attacked. By him." And Bucky, try as he might, couldn't remember shit.

"Dude, I was wearing headphones so damn strong that I didn't hear literal gunshots echoing around the room, like what?"

"Seriously, Y/N? You know we won't say anything if you tell us you're lying."

"But I'm not lying," Y/N insisted, "I heard a scream and finally took off the headphones. When I turned to see who had screamed, he was literally standing in front of me." Hazy memories slowly flashed in his mind; a plain building, those red-black headphones and the fluttering of papers. He gulped his drink down.

"And didn't kill you like he had been trained to? I still think you're lying. Or maybe you just have severe trauma and you made up a story of the handsome Bucky Barnes calling you pretty." Bucky nearly laughed when Y/N's face turned red but then guilt started weighing heavy in his stomach. He had put her in danger…

"I don't have trauma, don't joke about stuff like that! Anyway, I was like, scared shitless. I thought I was gonna die, I started crying but he told me, don't cry. Like huh?" Bucky didn't remember that part. Steve and Sam were now definitely drawn to the story, their eyes set on their glasses as they listened.

"I didn't want to anger him so I wiped my tears but he raised that goddamn gun again and I started crying again. He repeated his words and I started pleading, as we've all seen in action movies." Snorts drifted between them. "Please don't hurt me, let me go…" Y/N mimicked but Bucky's heart rate suddenly spiked. The same voice, the same tone…

He had had a nightmare the previous night.

She was the one he heard.

"Okay, so after I'm done begging, you know what he fucking says? Out of all things, he literally called me pretty. Like just— just that one word came out of his mouth. I'm literally still so confused," she spoke animatedly and the friend who had not heard the story before gasped. "Seriously? No way," she scoffed.

"Yes way!" Y/N got impatient. Why did no one ever believe her? She got that it was an outlandish story, but it was real! Y/N wished the Soldat was here; not to kill, of course, merely to confirm the fact that he had, indeed, called her pretty. But that man was long gone, replaced by someone who was stable-but-not-so-stable, undoubtedly handsome and with a new metal arm. This Bucky was much better than the dangerous Soldat.

"Then he told me to go. He sounded so fucking soft, you know? I have so much respect for Bucky Barnes, I mean, look at him. He went through so much he didn't deserve, and sometimes I just wanna—" She made a choking gesture, "—everyone who hurt him." Her friends chuckled but he could tell she wasn't lying. She really did care for him.

After all he put her through…

"I'm serious! Look at him! He looks like a lost puppy. How can you not care about him?" Y/N whined and her friends shook their heads. "You just have a big crush on the man, accept it." Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve and Sam smirked at him. He nudged them both, keeping silent. "You know what? I wish he was here right now. He probably doesn't even remember but if he did—"

"I remember it, doll, only vaguely…"

Y/N's group froze as their gazes followed the voice, landing on the three Avengers beside them. Her friends were mortified, Y/N even more so. Did he hear the story? "D-Did you… hear…" she stammered and Bucky pursed his lips. "I'm sorry." The apology fell out before he could stop himself and Y/N, ever the Bucky-apologist, instantly shook her head.

"It was not your fault. HYDRA did that to you. You didn't deserve any of it, mark my words." She sounded like Steve, he noticed and smiled gently. After all he put her through… she still stood by his side. "Thank you, doll, that really means a lot," he said sincerely and Y/N grinned at him. "You're welcome!" And before she could turn to her friends, he spoke up again.

"I meant what I said."

"Hm?" She looked at him, head tilted in confusion. "When I called you pretty, I meant it. You are pretty, very much so." She went red under his intense gaze and shied away, forcing Steve, Sam and her friends to burst into boisterous laughter. "Th-Thanks," she mumbled and Bucky craved her more.

"Join me for a drink?" he questioned and her eyes widened. He mistook it for fear and immediately lowered his head. "Sorry, I overstepped—" He froze when she took his metal hand, holding it gently, looking at him with the same eyes he had thought to be adorable 7 years ago. "Of course I'll join you." A genuine smile bloomed on his face and without a care in the world, he led her away from her friends.

She was going to be his.

Forever and always.

The only woman caring and wonderful enough to accept him, broken and everything.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading! Love you all 🖤

[imaginethathaikyuu]

kinktober - day seventeen

tendou satori - overheard 

kinktober faq kinktober prompt list  

NSFW warning featuring: mutual masturbation, dubcon, tendou overhears u and decides to join the fun wink wink, very very light dom tendou/sub reader  other tags: neighbors to friends to lovers, a lot of exposition, tendou works at a bakery isn’t that cute

gender neutral reader  word count: 2745

-

Thin walls. 

Tendou had come to realize that was the reason his apartment’s rent was dirt cheap. 

He’d noticed it a year ago on the second day he moved in; his hearing was far too perceptive to not notice every creek in someone else’s floorboard or knock against a neighbor’s wall, but he could hear much more than that from any adjacent apartment. 

The person in the apartment to his right was out of their mind to think their singing in the shower sounded anything other than torturous. The person above him had two dogs that made about as much noise as a bull. The guy across the hall talked to himself, a lot. 

And the person to his left was you. He didn’t hear much from you, at first. You were a couple of years older than him; pretty and sweet and kind to the core. An ideal neighbor, if you asked Satori, and a good friend in recent months. He’d lend you laundry detergent when you needed it, and you’d invite him over to have tea as a thank you. He mentioned he worked at the bakery at the end of the street, and the next day you made good on your promise to visit him at work and try anything he recommended. When you realized you both had the same taste in comics, you started your own mini book club, using each other’s collections as your personal libraries, and spending hours discussing the intricacies of a single page. 

You were close by, and he thought that maybe that was why you had become such good friends so quickly. You liked his taste in books and he liked the way you made his tea, and silent moments with you in your apartment were just that. He’d gotten comfortable with your presence before he ever realized it, long before lingering touches or caught stares or shared secrets. 

Maybe it was the night you fell asleep in the middle of watching his favorite movie that he finally put it all together; when the only noise you had made in an hour was a weird snore that made him laugh loud enough to wake you up as you stayed sleeping anyway. 

Your head fell against his shoulder as the credits started playing, and he was ready to sit there all night. 

“It was good,” you mumbled, having woken up without him realizing. 

“Was it?” he asked, and he lifted his arm and draped it over your shoulder, and you just curled into him. 

“Mhm. Really liked it, Satori.” 

“I’m sure.” He laughed, and you laughed, too, and he felt warm without noticing it. He was so in his place that he didn’t even know. He could laugh with you and pull you closer to him and press a kiss onto the side of your head, all without thinking, because he didn’t need to. 

But the moment shattered at the sound of a baby crying from an apartment down the hall, and it pulled Satori right back down to earth. Like he’d been suddenly reminded of the existence of everyone else in the world, realizing that it wasn’t just the two of you and this one room. 

His arm around you felt heavier. Your hand on his leg was burning. He realized the kiss was probably too far, and so he offered to go and let you sleep. You pressed further into him, seeming to contrast the fact that you didn’t decline, and Satori soon returned to his apartment to find a collage of questions waiting for him. 

Up until recently, you were just a neighbor. And then you were just a friend, until you weren’t - until he realized he was happier with you than he was anywhere else. 

As his heart grew fonder for you he found himself paying more and more attention to every noise he heard coming from behind the wall he shared with you. 

Soon, he knew the routine you followed every night. He could hear it. 

As soon as you got home from work, you turned your music on and played it loud. The songs weren’t much of his taste at first, but he learned to get used to you playing songs you loved on repeat. And he’d do nothing but smile as he listened to you listening to these songs, learning more of the words each time you played them, until you moved on to the next single to overplay. 

You showered at the exact same time every night; the pipes in this building were obnoxiously loud, at times they sounded broken. And he only just realized the whirring noise that started at seven every evening was coming from your room. He’d ask you why you kept your showers on a strict schedule, if he didn’t feel like such a creep for knowing that in the first place, but he simply chalked it up to another one of your quirks. 

And over time, as your relationship started to evolve past friendship, landing in some uncanny space where you held hands all the time and kissed only sometimes, Satori found himself even more in tune with every creak from your floorboard. Every song you played. Every word you mumbled to yourself. Every shower you took. And every whimper, gasp and moan he heard fall from your lips late at night. 

It was embarrassing, at first, when he heard those sweet sounds and had to question what in the hell you were doing. And as it clicked in his mind, he ran to take a cold shower and forget the embarrassment caused by accidentally eavesdropping on you. You were having an intimate moment and he had no right to listen to that, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

He’d do almost anything to drown out the sounds because the thoughts you were causing him to have were nothing but pure sin, and he could hardly stand to look you in the eyes the day after he listened to your moans and thought about being the one causing them. 

Satori couldn’t help that you sounded so pretty while touching yourself, and some nights he was just too lazy to find his headphones to drown out the noise; some nights he couldn’t stop himself from lying in bed as your moans got louder and his cock grew harder, throbbing with every gasp and groan coming from you, aching to be touched to the sounds. He’d have to grind into a pillow for some relief, but it was never enough. 

You were so loud, pleasuring yourself as if no one could hear you, and he had to wonder if you were doing it on purpose. Couldn’t you hear every one of his gasps and stifled groans as he was rutting into the mattress, too shameful to fuck his fist? Didn’t you know he could hear every noise from your lips, every creak of your bed frame as you rocked your hips, every sweet sound your sex made as you fucked yourself? 

You knew - you had to know, or else you wouldn’t put on such a show every single night. And tonight was anything but an exception. 

But tonight… he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t take it. His hand moved on its own accord to his shorts, and they were tugged off before he even knew what he was doing. 

“Fuck.” He said it loud. Loud enough for you to hear. And he was sure you heard him because you started moaning even louder, and Satori’s resolve was gone. 

He’d never worked up to actually getting off while he listened to you. It was one thing he just couldn’t do, no matter how much he wanted to - that would be too far, too wrong. 

But he couldn’t take it anymore - he needed to cum, and he needed to do it while listening to you. And maybe he’d feel guilty afterwards but it was your fault - he’d tell himself that you knew what you were doing just to feel better about it. 

He heard you begging, “Fuck, please - please,” and his hips jerked at the thought of you begging for him, begging for his cock and everything he’d love to give you. Is that what you were thinking about, too? 

It only took a few seconds of stroking himself for Satori to realize that this wasn’t going to last very long. You sounded so fucking pretty, panting and whining and begging; Satori could almost see you lying there underneath him, needing him, obeying him, giving in to him. 

He wondered if he got you too worked up on your movie date hours ago, when you ended up in his lap grinding against him to the beat of the forgotten movie. No matter how hard he pulled you down it wasn’t enough friction, and despite all the dirty words he’d whispered to you neither of you seemed brave enough to push things along. You pulled back from his kiss, obviously overwhelmed and breathing hard, and the last bit of his willpower stopped him from just devouring you right there. He could see it was too much, so he told you, “Let’s finish the movie,” and that’s what the two of you did, but the way you kept your thighs squeezed together and fidgeted with the rings on his fingers didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

And as it turns out, he’d gotten you so worked up that you had to release all that tension yourself. How rude, to take that pleasure from him - to lie in bed and play with yourself when he was the one that caused all that excitement. It was his lips, his hands, his cock that had you soaked and sounding so needy. And what Satori would give to let you have more of what you needed - he was torturing himself, really, by holding back and not taking you those short hours ago. 

But there he was, touching himself when you were the one who deserved to be; maybe he was a hypocrite, but you left him with no other choice. And he’d been moaning just as loud as you were without even realizing it, but just the same, you had quietened down. 

It was nothing more than petty whimpers and whines coming from you now, mixed with heavy breaths and a rare squeak from your bed frame. What were you doing? Were you holding back? 

You were mumbling something, and even though he couldn’t quite make out what you were saying it was still turning him on, keeping his hand tugging his cock, leaving him breathless and needy - but then, what he swore he heard you say had him shaking. He had to stop and just breathe so he didn’t bust right then, because there was no way he heard you whimpering his name - he couldn’t have heard you right, you couldn’t have been brave enough to do that.

But then, again, he heard it. “Please… Satori… want you so bad, please…” 

And, “Fuck,” his mind might’ve been playing tricks on him but he didn’t care, “holy shit,” he’d moan your name right back to you and fail at keeping it modest, “oh my god, I need you - fuck - so bad, I need you,” and at that point he didn’t know what was stopping him from going next door and giving both of you what you needed. 

The rush this was giving him was enough; the images of you he’d thought up would last until he could see the real thing. He already had you begging for him - this was just the build up, just to have a little fun before he gave in and knocked on your door and gave you everything you were asking him for.  

The more you moaned his name and whined out pleas, the closer he got to cumming; it wasn’t his hand getting him there, it was only you pushing him along. His fist was nowhere near good enough, not when you were right next door waiting for him, already soaking wet and prepped to take his cock. But he could probably get off to the thought of burying himself in you alone - and being so close is what kept him from stopping. 

He heard you say, “I’m close - gonna cum,” a warning likely meant for him but an announcement to every resident on your apartment floor with how loud you said it. But Satori felt like he could hardly hear you - he was one step ahead of you and he felt like his head was underwater, like you’d thrown him deep into some euphoric ocean and all he had to do was swim to the top.  

He was sure he’d never felt so good in his life, and the only thing that could’ve made it better was seeing you unraveling for him rather than only listening. He knew you were looking prettier on the other side of the wall than in his head but the mental image was all he needed until he could breathe again. 

It felt like forever until he broke the surface, and when he did he struggled to catch his breath or shake off the tingling in his legs. And he was met with silence; unfamiliar and uncomfortable. What’s worse, he had a mess to clean up - a mess you caused, much better suited to be on your stomach rather than his own. 

He tried not to drown in the quiet, tried not thinking about what exactly just happened minutes ago for the sake of avoiding regret and guilt and fear. It wasn’t that big of a deal, he thought, yet the irrational thoughts crept up on him anyway. 

Maybe you didn’t mean it. Maybe you were only using him to get off. Maybe it was his fault for taking it so seriously - it was nothing more than risky, sexy fun. 

It wouldn’t matter if he didn’t like you so much. If you were nothing more than two neighbors taking advantage of thin walls to get off together, he’d have no issue. But that isn’t what you were - not to him, at least, though maybe you felt differently. 

Satori was overthinking all of it, but you were being so fucking quiet, and he didn’t know what to do about it; he was finally tugging his shorts back on, and debating saying something loud enough to get your attention, when the silence was finally broken with a knock on his door. 

He was sure a neighbor had heard that escapade and decided to call in a complaint, and he was preparing himself for that conversation when he opened the door and found you on the other side of it. 

And even with all of his overthinking, this conversation wasn’t one he was ready for. 

“Oh - hey.” 

“Hi.” 

You were cute - he came close to just blurting it out, confessing every thought he had as he watched you acting shy and docile after working up the courage to knock on his door. 

“Do you wanna…” 

“Talk about what just happened?” 

You laughed, that same laugh you gave him every time he said something dumb or too smug. It was never at anything funny, but he found it cute, anyway. 

“We could just watch a movie instead.” 

“Just watch a movie?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, and you can pick so I can take a nap.” 

He scoffed at you but stepped to the side to let you in, anyway, despite that hit to his fragile ego. “Fine - you just make sure to keep your hands to yourself this time.” 

“No promises,” you called back, having already made yourself comfortable on his couch. 

And that’s when something seemed to snap - this tension was unbearable and now that he knew you were wanting him, it was pointless to keep up an act. You both felt it and there was no reason to hide it, or pretend it wasn’t there, so Satori wasn’t going to. He was going to take this as far as you would let him; he was going to make you his as long as you would say yes. This wasn’t just friendly anymore, and there was no charade worth keeping up. 

He knew why you came over - you were just too afraid to say it. But he’d work that out of you eventually; he’d have you begging for what you wanted soon. And he could hardly wait for it. 

“Then why don’t we just skip to that?” 

[thatesqcrush]

Voire Dire

Rafael Barba x Reader. Warnings: implied fem masturbation, slightly dub-con at the end (kissing) but reader is very enthusiastic. WC: 3,339

It was an ordinary morning on an ordinary day. It was early and the eighth floor was just beginning to fill up. You had already been in the office for well over two hours, working on a motion and you were already running against the clock. As people milled about, settling in, you grabbed your noise canceling headphones and slipped them on over your ears. 

You frowned when you realized your coffee cup was empty. You were in need for more coffee but did not have the time for it. As you let out an irritated sigh, you noticed the head of the junior ADA department, Sonny Carisi, stride in. As he passed by your desk, a brown paper bag plopped onto the desk. You slipped off your headphones and swiveled around.

“And what is this, Dominick?” You teased, as you reached into the bag.

“Bear-claw. Coffee - light and sweet.” Sonny called out as he settled into his office.

“God bless ya’ Sonny. You answered my prayers.” You called out, before blowing on the cup. It was so hot, steam rose from the small opening and the heat pricked your fingers. “How did you know?”

“A little birdie named Marjorie.” He replied. He stuck his head out the door. “She told me you were coming in early and if I recall anything from our Fordham days, it’s that you always forget to take care of yourself when you’re under the wire.”

You gave him a pointed look, which then softened into a smile. “Thank you, Sonny. Much appreciated. And when you win that Mickey Davis case, I am going to take you out for a celebratory drink.”

“Don’t start, we don’t even know what will happen. He may plead out.” Sonny replied. “I gotta go - meeting with the boss actually on this. Get back to work.”

“Yes sir!” You mocked saluted, before swiveling back to your computer. Time was ticking after all. 

**

The rest of the morning seemed to pass in a blur. Again, nothing extraordinary happened. And as you electronically filed your motion, you spun around in your seat, with your arms in the air, in silent victory. 

As you faced your desk, you saw Sonny walking back down to his office with a very handsome, distinguished looking man behind him. It was clear the two of them were having some kind of heated discussion. And you couldn’t care less. Because the man he was with, was the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. He wore dark jeans and blue and pink checkered shirt with a dark grey peacoat. His hair was perfectly coiffed, nary a hair out of place. And he had a meticulously groomed beard. His hair and his beard were dark, with salt and pepper flicked through. You had a sudden urge to tug on his beard and you wondered what it would feel like against your skin, as you slid your tongue into his. 

The man sauntered past your desk and you looked up, feeling a flutter shoot through you as your eyes met. You caught a whiff of the cologne he wore - faint whiffs of vetiver and bergamot - and you closed your eyes, enjoying the olfactory overload. You so badly wanted to turn around, but you could not. So you settled for leaning to the side in an attempt to eavesdrop.

“You know who that is, right?” You jumped in your seat slightly and looked up at Marjorie, your co-worker, and fellow ADA.

“No. But he is nice to the eyes.” You smirked. 

“That’s Rafael Barba.” Marjorie hissed. 

You sat up straight. “That’s him? The Rafael Barba?” You scanned the office and sure enough, people were whispering and talking to each other as they looked behind you. 

You couldn’t hear everything, but you could glean whatever they were talking about was not regular old shop talk. 

You heard something about a ‘nice view’ and ‘had to move the Xerox machine and four filing cabinets just to get the desk in,’ and you snorted. 

“Yeah, the one who k-worded a baby,” Marjorie continued, as she sat on the corner of your desk. She ripped off a remnant of your long-forgotten bear claw and popped it in her mouth. 

“He did not k-word a baby.” It was now your turn to hiss. “That baby was already dead. He… expedited its passing.”

“Well, regardless. No one has seen him since then. Last I heard he was working with The Innocence Project,” Marjorie replied, plucking another piece of the bear-claw.

The door swung open, Rafael turning to face Sonny. “I'm going for straight-up not guilty.” Rafael stormed past you, once more, a breeze blowing by as he did so - and with it, his cologne wafted once more and you felt the back of your neck prick. Arousal shot through you, starting between your thighs, but rising to make your breath hitch. 

Marjorie hopped off your desk and dashed into Sonny’s office. You stood to do so, as Rafael as he stalked by. Your eyes met once more.

“Good morning,” Rafael acknowledged curtly. You felt your cheeks burn and you gave him a small smile, before following Marjorie.

**

Lunch had rolled around. You rapped on Sonny’s door. “Hey - want to grab lunch with Marj and I?”

“Nah, can’t. Barba’s taking the Mickey Davis case on and I need to prep,” Sonny replied. He sighed before dropping his head into his hands, groaning.

You shut the door quickly behind you and moved to lower the blinds in his office. “Hey - talk to me. Barba was your mentor, right?”

Sonny looked up at you and nodded. “Yeah, he was. He was the best ADA here - I mean, he took on cases others dodged. He taught me so much. And now… it’s like jedi master and padawan here.”

You grimaced. “Sonny, don’t sell yourself short. You are an excellent lawyer and you’ve got the chops. If anything, he should be the one who’s worried.” 

Sonny guffawed in response. “Don’t quit ya’ day job, Y/N.”

You crossed your arms and cocked your brow. “Come on, pizza. On me. Let’s go.”

Sonny rolled his eyes and nodded. “Okay, okay. But not Marco’s. That place is not real Italian.”

“Whatever, pizza snob.” You laughed as you both walked out. 

**

Time flew by. Sonny was at voire dire and you chewed on your thumbnail waiting for him to return. You decided to throw yourself into work in an attempt to keep your mind otherwise occupied. 

When Sonny did eventually return, he looked defeated and worn. He shuffled back into his office, his shoulders hunched over. You waited a good minute before knocking on his office. 

“How'd it go at voir dire?” You asked softly, as you knocked on his door. Sonny was chugging pepto-bismol and he grimaced as he turned to you. “It was the Rafael Barba show, charming and cherry-picking jurors for twelve straight hours.”

“Yeah, the office mill said he was a dog with a bone.” You shrugged, pulling a chair out and sitting.

Sonny laughed. “Yeah. Now get this - I'm looking at his witness list, and he tracked down AJ’s other foster kids, ACS employees, VA shrinks. How big of a staff does he have?”

You shrugged again. “I don’t know.”

Sonny gave you a look. “Dollars to donuts, I think it’s my old squad - Rollins, Liv, and Fin helping him out.”

“You don’t know that.” You interjected.

“It's fine. Barba was here before me. I know where their loyalties are,” Sonny replied. 

“When's opening statements?” 

“A day from tomorrow.” Sonny replied. “Which means I will be here all night prepping.”

“Do you want any help?” You asked. 

“It’s fine - it’s late. You should go home. If there’s something, I’ll let you know.” 

You nodded and bid him a good night, before heading home.

** 

At home, you climbed into bed and tried to watch a repeat of your favorite procedural show but could not focus. You spent the entire commute home, replaying the events of earlier in the week when Rafael came by. He smelled so wonderful and when his eyes locked on yours, your heart skipped in a way that it hadn’t in a long time. Picturing his eyes… his beard… you became warm and a ripple of arousal coursed through you, causing the ache between your legs to intensify. You had a drawer full of toys that you knew you would help, but sometimes, your own fingers were best – you knew you better than any other toy could. You slipped your fingers down your sleep shorts and under the waistband of your underwear. It didn’t take much – as you suspected it would not – and when you came, it was Rafael’s name that escaped from your lips. The ache lessened – and, for now, it was enough.

**

Time flew and before you knew it, the case was winding up - or so you heard through the grapevine. That office leaked like a sieve. Your phone buzzed loudly one morning. You groaned and looked at the clock - you still had twenty minutes of sleep left. Yawning, you sat up and rubbed your eyes awake.

[Marjorie: Come meet us at court - closing arguments on the Davis case and we are all going down to root for Sonny]

You quickly wrote back: who’s we?

[Marjorie: A few of us from 8th. Come on!]

You bit your bottom lip and then hit two little letters: ok. You quickly showered, threw on your pants and an oversized sweater. You grabbed a pair of wedges and made your way uptown.

**

The case was intense and heated. Emotions were rising. You fidgeted in your seat as Sonny faced off with Rafael. In the end, the jury deliberated in six hours and found Mickey Davis guilty. He was charged with manslaughter two.

Sonny caught up with the group from the eighth floor in the gallery who all congratulated him on his big win. You half-listened and half kept an eye on Rafael, who was busy gathering his paperwork. He looked handsome in his black bespoke suit, now cleanly shaven.  You frowned - the beard suited him. But it didn’t temper his handsomeness; with or without, it was as if he made your eyes burn. It also appeared to have turned him into a real-life Benjamin Button, so to speak. He appeared much younger than he did when he did that day in One Hogan Place.

Rafael turned again, and his eyes scanned the group in the back before his eyes settled on yours once more. You ducked your head, feeling embarrassed at having been caught and when you looked up at him, a smile had graced his face.

He began to head your way, tucking his briefcase under his arm. Your heart began to race and your palms were sweaty. You wracked your brain for a reason to leave but couldn’t come up with anything. And then Rafael was in front of you.

“Hi - you’re Carisi’s colleague?” Rafael asked as you were now afforded a close-up view. His eyes were the most intense seafoam green and you knew if allowed, you would drown in them. 

“Uh - yes. My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N. I am a junior ADA.” You tripped over your words, feeling your cheeks burn. What was it about this man that renders me into a bumbling fool? you thought.

“Rafael Barba.” Rafael extended his hand and you took it, shaking it.

“Pleasure.”

“No, that’s all mine.” His eyes crinkled and a small smile graced his face. You felt your cheeks burn once more.

Sonny turned away from the group and faced you and Rafael. “We’re going to Rudy’s for a beer. Want to come? The squad is going to come.”

Rafael opened his mouth and paused, looking over at you. Feeling put on the spot, you nodded, going along. “Sure - a beer would be great.” You then turned to look at Rafael. “Coming with?”

Rafael nodded - wanting nothing more than to spend time with you - this creature who had enchanted him. He had to admit, he had hoped to see you more - but in his head, that meant an impromptu visit to the DA’s office, where he wasn’t necessarily well received any longer. Or, it meant asking Carisi - and he didn’t want to be grilled by the former detective. You were young - younger than him of course, but he couldn’t imagine you were that much younger - and at the same time he did not want to seem like a cradle robbing perv. The group dispersed outside, braving the elements of New York City. It was biting cold - the coldest day of the year - and the wind whipped around something wicked. You rubbed your gloved hands together as you all headed to Rudy’s. You and Rafael hung back, following the group, but at the same time, both knowing the route, having made the trek many times prior. 

“So how long have you been with the DA’s office?” Rafael asked. Small, misty clouds emitted from your breaths as you chit-chatted. 

“Two years. I was originally in Brooklyn, but I requested a lateral move.” You replied. 

“That’s where I started too.” Rafael replied. A taxicab approached and Rafael waved his hand up and across from you, signaling to the car to slow down so that you two could cross. You didn’t miss how his hand cradled your back gently as you both crossed the street to the bar. Yout stomach flip-flopped in response.

**

The bar was empty, save for the group. Large colorful bulbs hung throughout, keeping in theme with the upcoming holiday. At the hightops, each table was outfitted with a miniature wreath with a candle in the middle. After a while, the squad from SVU also joined and everyone toasted Sonny on his victory. The corners of your lips twitched as Rafael said “To irony,” at Sonny’s response that they were just back where they started.

Rafael was engrossed in a conversation with Sonny’s former squad, and you watched him intently. You played with your napkin and wondered more about him and who he was. Sure, you had heard about the Householder case and how the prosecutor was acquitted - and sure, you had read some of his court briefs. But you had never thought in a million years that you would be so close to him. Many other former ADAs came to visit, but Rafael Barba never did. He had essentially dodged the office for years. You didn’t hear much of him, only in passing from Sonny while you were both in Fordham.

Hours went by, many drinks had been had. One by one, the group had dispersed, until it was just you, Sonny, Amanda, and Rafael. You all decided to move to a booth. You were slightly unsteady, having had too many glasses of wine and very little to eat. You knew in the morning you would be paying the price.

“Water for Y/N and fries for the table.” Amanda announced as she slid the food to the middle of the table, and the water towards you. 

You plucked a fry from the table and tried to focus on what Amanda was talking about. Sonny made a quip and everyone laughed. You used the opportunity to sneak another glance towards Rafael. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his well defined forearms. A sole finger traced the rim of his lowball glass, which was half-full. Your eyes were drawn to the Rolex on his wrist and you noticed the time.

“Oh, it’s late - I should get going,” you remarked, as you pulled Rafael’s arm close to your face, looking at the time more closely. “Sorry,” you murmur, releasing his arm. You stand and wobble once more, and Rafael stands, catching you. 

“Good idea; it is late,” Rafael replied. “Let me just close out the tab.” Amanda and Sonny protested as they reached for their wallets and Rafael waved them off. 

“I can go home with you honey.” Amanda offered. 

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

“Y/N, you know better than that; someone should go with you.” Sonny replied. “Amanda and I can.”

“Sonny you’re all the way uptown - I am all the way downtown. It’ll be fine.” You argued as you put your coat on.

Rafael returned, placing his wallet on the table momentarily. “What’s fine?”

“Me. Going home solo,” you replied. “But Amanda and Sonny think--”

“That you had too much to drink.” Sonny cut you off. “It’s not safe.”

“Sonny.” You pinched the bridge of your nose and you found yourself growing more impatient. “I am a big girl - I will send you a text when I get home.”

“Where’s home?” Rafael asked curiously. 

“Brooklyn.” Sonny and you replied at the same time.

“Sonny’s right - someone should take you home.” Rafael countered. 

“What if Barba takes you home?” Amanda asked, as she slipped her hat on. “Barba lives downtown - you don’t mind, do you counselor?”

“Not at all.” Rafael replied. “If that’s okay with Y/N.”

You sucked your bottom lip in. “Okay; Barba wins.”

“Great. Barba takes Y/N home and I’ll head up with Amanda,” Sonny declared.

**

The cab hadn’t even been going for ten minutes when Rafael found you asleep, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t want to move you - lest you lean on the glass and knock your head if the cab hit a pothole. He watched as the city blurred past him, a mix of lights and colors. You let out a small moan and snuggled closer to Rafael. Rafael threw his head back, resting against the headrest and let out a sigh.

The trip to Brooklyn was uneventful as there was little traffic and soon the cab pulled up outside the brownstone that was home to you. He nudged you softly, stirring you awake. 

“We’re at your place.” He murmured and you smiled sleepily at him.

“Walk me to my door?” You asked, stifling a small yawn. Rafael nodded and requested the cab to keep the meter running. You grabbed your keys to unlock the door and turned to face him. You thanked him for going out of his way to accompany you home and Rafael gave you a small nod, telling you it was no big deal - better to be safe. He licked his lips and you felt a rush of bravery course through you - you’d later realize that was the alcohol - and did what was, up until then, a figment of your imagination.

You curled your fingers into his hair, since he was sans beard, and pulled him in for a kiss. Rafael was initially taken aback, freezing in place, but then he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, which he took as an invitation to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue into your mouth.  His strong arms, closed around your back and pulled you tightly against him. You continued kissing for what seemed like eternity, but was only mere moments, when Rafael pulled away. 

“I’m sorry.” He blurted. “You’re drunk. You can’t consent. I should not have done that.” He took a step back, regret was etched on his face.

Your face burned with embarrassment. “It’s fine. I … should go. Good night, Rafael.” You mumbled before unlocking the door and darting inside, not bothering to look back. 

Rafael groaned, rubbing his hands with his face. It felt so wonderful to kiss you - but it was under all the wrong circumstances. He headed back to the cab and went home, replaying the kiss over and over in his mind, as if it were an endless loop. 

He knew what he had to do. 

Imagine your surprise when the following morning, when you headed into the office to put in some overtime, there was an email from one formerly disgraced ADA in your mailbox - asking you out for dinner.

You took a large drag of your coffee and then hit reply. 

TBC.

***

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[heartsywritesthethings]

Nosy Little Miya

Author: GA!babe

Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity

Summary: Miya likes to step away from the little skate fam in order to people watch and eavesdrop. Everyone’s favorite clown punk babysitter ain’t too happy and decides to mess with the kid a little. (Word Count: 1881 words)

~~~

One week before the sleepover

Knowing the gossip and secrets around S was kind of Miya’s whole thing. Before he had met Reki, Langa, Shadow, Cherry, and Joe, he had just slunk around the illegal skating area. Sure he would skate a few beefs every now and again, but it was much more interesting to learn about every little hidden detail about the skaters’ lives.

When people were around their friends, they tended to let their guards down. They would talk about their crushes, their work, their goals in life. Everything under the guise that they were just chatting to a friend. No one seemed to notice or care about a little kid with headphones innocently playing a game just a few feet away. 

Headphones were a great way to subtly eavesdrop on a conversation. After all, most of the time he didn’t even have sound playing through them. The amount of S gossip that he has heard is kind of ridiculous, and now, Miya made it a point to know everything about everyone at S. It didn’t matter how new or old they were, he made it his business to know. 

What did he do with all of this knowledge? Well, sometimes it was helpful during bets during beefs down the course. Sure, someone could look tough enough to beat a smaller skater, but no one else knew about a recently dead family pet that might affect the mentality of the projected winner. Miya knew. And he always won.

Tonight was a little different. Two relatively new skaters had begun to frequent S, so Miya needed to know as much as he could about them.

“And what are you going to do about it, little lee?” A skater purred to their partner one night, making the other turn a very bright shade of red.

“Sparky! There are people around.” The other skater whined. The first skater, Sparky, moved forward and squeezed the other’s side, making them jump. 

“What? Afraid people will notice me tickling you?” Sparky continued to tease while their partner turned this way and that, eyes darting around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. 

The only one within earshot was a small boy with bulky headphones on, and he looked pretty preoccupied with his game.

“Stop saying that word.” the partner whined, covering their face with their skateboard. Sparky chuckled and shook their head. 

“What word? Tickle? Tickle tickle tick-” Sparky teased before they saw someone walking their way. They hopped on their skateboard and waved for their partner to follow. 

Miya glanced up to see what had scared them off when he saw the familiar painted face of Shadow, one of the best skaters at S. 

“There ya are! We were lookin’ everywhere for ya!” Shadow announced as he made his way over. He noticed the two new skaters still lingering and made a scary face at them, causing them both to hop on their boards and skate away as fast as they could.

Shadow chuckled at himself before plopping down on the bench next to Miya. 

“Why’d you do that? I was watching them. They’re new.” Miya grumbled, turning his attention back to his game. Granted, this was just animal crossing and he could play this in his sleep, but he was pouting.

“What? Those two? They’re harmless! I think one of them just learned how to skate too. Why do you need to know everything about everyone anyways?” Shadow asked, leaning back and sighing dramatically.

“If you’re not gonna tell me why you’re here, then just go away so I can do my job,” Miya huffed.

“We were just wonderin’ where you went is all. One minute you’re making dumb jokes next to Reki and the next – poof! – you’re gone. Can’t have you wandering around on your own,” Shadow said and ruffled Miya’s hair. Miya snapped his head over as if he were a cat about to bite the hand of someone who had just gotten too close.

“I can take care of myself. I was hanging around here before you slimes decided to show up and bother me anyways.” Miya snapped. He saved his game and began to put it away in his bag.

“Yeah, okay, well, Cherry’s weird skateboard said something kinda concerning about the amount of kids going missing every year. I don’t wanna take any chances.” Shadow said, getting up as he noticed Miya was getting up as well. 

“That pink-haired slime can make his board say whatever he wants. Leave me alone, I’m working tonight and you stick out like a sore thumb,” Miya said, standing up and getting ready to leave —

When Shadow easily scooped him up and tossed him over his shoulder as if he were nothing more than a bag of flower seeds.

“Hey! What are you doing? Put me down! Help!” Miya screeched, kicking his legs and waving his arms around randomly. It wasn’t the most dignified way for him to fight back, but surely someone would notice a large scary man carting away a small wailing kid.

Pretty soon, people began looking over at them. Whispers and murmurs began amongst the skaters of people trying to decide whether or not to call the police.

“You are just a little troublemaker, aren’t you?” Shadow growled, taking Miya by the hood and holding him out at arm’s length so that they could glare at each other. Miya smirked before sticking out his tongue at the clown-looking skater.

“Alright, you’re asking for it.” Shadow said, a look of complete mischief on his own face. Miya didn’t have enough time to process before he was hugged close to Shadow’s chest. Before he had time to crack a joke or flail around, Shadow’s fingers began to wiggle against Miya’s sides. 

Miya squeaked and squirmed, only to find that he could barely move against Shadow’s broad chest. And those fingers just kept moving and wiggling on his sides and Miya couldn’t handle it anymore. 

Giggles began to pour out of his little mouth and all fight completely drained from his little body.

“Are you going to behave, Miya? You can become my little giggly accessory. Every clown needs a creepy laughing kid with them.” Shadow teased, trying to get a good look at Miya’s laughing face.

“Ihihihhihihi am nohohohot crehehehehehehepy!” Miya giggled, pressing his forehead against Shadow’s chest, trying to hide his smile from both Shadow and the people who were looking. 

“I couldn’t quite hear that,” Shadow teased, taking Miya by the hood and holding him out again. Miya kicked his feet out again, trying to get away from Shadow in any way he could now. One of his kicks gets dangerously close to Shadow’s family jewels.

“Woah! Alright, now you’re really in for it!” Shadow growled. He lets Miya drop to the ground for one second before pushing him down to the ground.

“No no no no no no!” Miya giggled, shaking his head as he looked at the evil clown faced tickle monster descending down on him.

“Oh yeah. I’ll make sure you’re too tired to make any more trouble for me tonight.” Shadow said, lifting Miya’s hoodie and undershirt, exposing his soft tummy to the cool night air.

“You crazy slime clown! Gehehet away from meHEHEHEHEHE!” Miya stammered before loud cackling laughter erupted from his little body. Shadow had blew a raspberry on Miya’s stomach and the ticklish vibrations had made the little cat boy feel such an intense wave of ticklish energy that he had never really felt before.

“Are you going to behave?” Shadow asked, his free hand poking and prodding around Miya’s stomach. 

People were looking at their antics, but neither Shadow nor Miya really cared at this point. No one was going to mess with Shadow and at this point…that poor little kid definitely looked like he was having fun.

“Miya?” Shadow asked, still smiling as he waited for a response from the giggling kid on the ground. 

“I…Ihihihi…” Miya giggled, not quite sure if he actually wanted this torment to end. He was actually…enjoying himself? Sure, it was a little embarrassing to be seen like this, he knew he could easily slide back into the shadows whenever he needed, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. 

“You waited too long!” Shadow said demonically before blowing another huge raspberry against Miya’s stomach. 

Miya, once again, cackled, his eyes squeezing shut as he was once again overwhelmed, but it was definitely welcome. So often, he knew that others thought that he didn’t want to be there. Honestly? They were kind of right. Only sometimes, he found skating fun. He kept skating and staying around S, of course, for those rare times when skating brought him that happiness he so often craved.

That was, before he met his ragtag group of skating friends. Some of them seemed as if they hated each other, but it was all in good fun. This? This tickling session? Definitely fun.

But now it was too much. A moment of panic struck through his little body as his brain announced “Okay, done here!”, but it went away as Shadow pulled away.

“Y'all watchin’ something funny? What the hell you lookin’ at? ROAHHHHHH!” Shadow yelled, sticking out his tongue and outright roaring at the other skaters watching. They quickly scattered, the sounds of wheels against pavement the only thing left as they were all too smart to stick around.

Miya got up, putting his little hoodie down over his stomach and popping his skateboard up, catching one side with a hand.

“Race you to the others?” Miya said, as if he hadn’t just been tickled to absolute pieces two minutes ago.

“You’re gonna lose, catboy.” Shadow said, jumping onto his board and kicking off.

“In your dreams, you slime,” Miya snickered and kicked off of the pavement and racing down the hill.

~~~

“Yeah, I’ll take him home.” Shadow said to Cherry. 

Miya was curled up against his board, snoring quietly. It was pretty late in the night and the crew was beginning to pack up and each head to their own houses.

“That’s weird. He’s never fallen asleep like this before.” Cherry hummed, looking at the kid up and down. 

“Does someone have a sharpie? A marker?” Reki asked excitedly, patting his own pockets down and smiling mischievously. 

“None of that, kid. He has school tomorrow.” Shadow said, nudging the redhead in the shoulder.

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun.” Reki whined. 

“Don’t you also have school tomorrow?” Shadow asked with a raised eyebrow.

“We do have that test tomorrow, Reki. Maybe you should get some sleep before–” Langa said, placing a hand on Reki’s shoulder.

“A what? A test?” Reki exclaimed. He hopped onto his board, looking completely panicked. “Alright, bye guys! Gotta go!”

And just like that, Reki sped away into the night. Langa was quick to follow, giving the others a quick two finger salute. 

“I can have Carla call a car for him if you don’t know the kid’s address.” Cherry offered, holding up his board. Shadow shook his head then easily scooped the sleeping boy into his arms.

“I’ve got this.” He said. “This nosy little kid ain’t the only one who knows things around here. ”

[hetacon]

Curb Your Enthusiasm, Princey

Word Count: 2,650

Pairings: Prinxiety, Brotherly Creativitwins, Parental Analogical, Very Slightly Implied Familial Analogicality, Very Slightly Implied Logicality

Warning: Cursing, banter, kissing cause why not

______________________________

Summary: Virgil is joined out on the curb by his new neighbor across the street.

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Ever since junior high, Virgil had made a habit of going out to the curb of his house around 1 in the morning and just sitting there. Save for rainy days and perhaps the odd time when he wasn’t at home, he’d always do it. It was nice and comforting. He usually had to put on a hoodie from the slight chill but he was content to sit out on the concrete, pajama pants and all, just looking up at the stars with his headphones on.

One night, things were going as normal until he noticed someone approaching the curb from the other side of the street, a person around his age. Virgil paused his music, possibly as a chance to eavesdrop. He heard the person let out a sigh as they sat down and Virgil cursed himself as their eyes met. The person smiled, goddammit. There went his evening plans for the end of all time, never going out again he concluded.

“Do you always brood out here in the dark?” the person asked, a teasing tone to their voice.

Virgil glared at them a little. The stranger laughed.

“A look that could kill indeed, you seem like you’re fun at parties.”

That went on for a bit as Virgil continued ignoring them or giving a glare or two as the person tried to get him to talk.

After half an hour, Virgil’s 1 AM companion got up and stretched.

“Well my emo nightmare, I must say that I have been thoroughly engrossed in our conversation but I must be off. A prince must get his beauty sleep~!” the stranger sang out a bit, starting to turn a bit.

“As if sleep could fix that,” Virgil huffed out with a smirk, only for it to grow wider as the guy across the street gave a dramatic gasp and whipped around.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, your bitchness,” Virgil replied back without a moment of hesitation.

“Well-! And here I thought this would be the start of a cliché and passionate romance!” was the guy’s reply.

“Don’t get your hair in a twist, Princey, I’m way outta your league,” Virgil hummed.

“Then fine, if that’s how you’re going to be!”

“Yep,” Virgil said, popping the p and clicking his tongue with a wink.

The guy’s cheeks flushed a bit. “Goddamn you,” he mumbled, turning to go inside for real.

_____

Virgil was expecting only that one encounter but the next night, his neighbor decided trying to stir up more conversation, out on the curb in the first 10 minutes Virgil was.

“Good evening, my dark and mysterious companion,” Virgil’s neighbor greeted, bowing mockingly. “And what do I owe this honor for us meeting once again?”

Virgil watched as the guy grinned rather boyishly and he rolled his eyes, trying to fight off a smile. “It’s not an honor, trust me. It wasn’t for you if you’re even considering that.”

“Well now, can’t you leave a man to his unrealistic dreams of summer romance?” came his neighbor’s response.

“As long as you know they’re unrealistic, ya royal pain in the ass. Virgil by the way,” he introduced.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful person such as yourself I see! Roman Prince, a pleasure to meet you,” the guy, Roman supposedly, said.

“Prince? Wow, that could not be more on the nose could it?” Virgil laughed to himself.

“Oh, and what? Is your last name all dark and broody like you?” Roman asked.

Virgil shook his head. “The opposite, Princey. Hart.”

“Virgil Hart.”

“Yep.”

Roman blinked for a moment. “You... are actually a kitten.”

“Whatever you say, dude,” Virgil said as he lied down on the concrete. “I don’t give a crap about your opinion of me.”

“I admire that,” Roman replied, smiling to Virgil. “Not a lot of people can really say that, you know.”

Virgil felt his cheeks heating up. “I mean, I care a little because like, anxiety, but other than that, it doesn’t really matter.”

Roman chuckled and Virgil looked over to see that he was the recipient of a rather adoring gaze.

“... What?”

“I admire the honesty even more.”

“Whatever, sap.”

_____

The third night in a row, Virgil didn’t hesitate to flip Roman off with a smirk, receiving an offended gasp from the guy taking a seat on the curb. Virgil couldn’t help but laugh as that part became their greeting.

It became a nice little routine. They talked for a while, things were going well and they got to know each other from the hour of time they shared outside.

_____

“So you come out every night?” Roman asked, yawning afterwards as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes to the best of his ability.

“Yeah, helps me clear my head,” Virgil told him.

“When did it start?”

“I had a panic attack one night, felt trapped in the house. So I decided to show myself I wasn’t and came out here. I’ve just been doing it ever since. Nothing special.”

Roman shrugged. “I think it’s cool that you were able to work with the anxiety rather than push it back.”

“When you’ve been dealing with it since you were a kid, you learn how to deal with it, you know?”

“No, unfortunately not.”

“Eh, that’s fair. Trust me, you’re not missing much.”

Roman laughed. “No, I imagine I’m not,” he replied, smiling to Virgil.

“Hey Princey, by the way, what’s up with you and romance?” Virgil asked, looking over to him.

Roman blinked, looking very thrown off by the timing of the question. Virgil tried not to smile at the reaction.

“What do you mean?” was the response Virgil was given.

“I mean like, you always talk about love and summer romance and flirt with me and all that kind of stuff, I was just wondering if there was a reason.”

Roman nodded. “Ah. Well,” he cleared his throat. “Just always loved the ideas of love I suppose. Grew up on Disney Princess movies, I just always was fascinated by the stories. And since most of them concern romance, it only makes sense. Plus my neighbor doesn’t hurt the idea.”

“Oh shut up,” Virgil laughed.

“What?” Roman feigned innocence.

“You can’t go a single night without flirting and you know it,” Virgil told him, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well with you, it’s certainly not difficult~”

_____

Roman brought someone out one night, something that was definitely not precedented.

The person in question looked exactly like Roman except for a slight mustache. Virgil guessed it was Roman’s twin that he’d mentioned a few times, go figures they’d look exactly alike. He wore a grey tank top and green cargo shorts, looking like he was just dragged out of bed. From the looks of it, he’d been crying.

Virgil watched on in silence as Roman sat the two of them down, leaning his twin’s head against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around the twin’s shoulder. Roman gave him a gentle squeeze and he leaned in closer to Roman’s hold.

“You want to meet Virgil?” Virgil could faintly hear from across the street to which the twin nodded, looking up with a tired and drained expression.

Virgil smiles sympathetically and gave the twin a small wave.

“Virge, I believe I’ve told you about me having a sibling before. This is Remus,” Roman said softly, looking down to Remus.

“Sup, Roman hasn’t shut up about you for weeks,” Remus said without much more explanation.

Virgil laughed. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me. Does it consist of gushing about potential romance and how I look like a Hot Topic exploded, only for that to add to my charm and appeal?” he teased, smirking towards Roman with a wink.

Roman gasped, only to gasp even louder when Remus started talking.

“Fuck yeah, it’s nothing but ‘Oh, he’s so gorgeous and stunning, I simply can’t resist him! He’s my soulmate Remus- Hey stop laughing at me!’” Remus said as a response, making dramatic movements to mimic his brother.

Roman pushed him, pouting. “This is unfair! You’re my brother, you’re supposed to love me!” he whined out, only for Remus and Virgil to start laughing.

“Never said I don’t!” Remus hummed out.

“Asshole!”

“Well that’s not a very nice thing to say to Virgil~”

After a second, Roman’s eyes widened and he turned to Virgil. “You’re not, I promise, I don’t even remotely think of you like that, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance,” he tried to defend.

Remus and Virgil smirked to each other.

“Awwww, you came up with an emo themed pet name for me? You have it bad~” Virgil cooed.

Roman’s cheeks flared bright red and he moved his eyes down to his hands clasped together in his lap. Remus clapped his hand over Roman’s back, making the latter jump a bit as Remus stood up.

“Well, it’s been an honor, I give my official seal of approval to marry my bro bro!” Remus said with a goofy bow, cracking a smile at Virgil.

“Good to know I have your approval to torment him till death do us part,” Virgil replied with a smirk.

Remus turned to Roman, pointing a finger at Virgil. “I like him, don’t fuck yourself over,” he commented before going inside.

“I hate him sometimes,” Roman grumbled as soon as the front door shut.

“I have no clue why,” Virgil hummed back.

“I hate you too.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Princey~”

_____

“Alright, if you had to give up Disney or drama for the rest of your life, which would you choose?” Virgil asked with a smirk, hearing Roman gasp loudly.

“You dare make me choose between two of my darling babies?” Roman whined, holding a hand to his forehead.

“Geez, I think it’s looking like Disney, drama is hardwired into you, Sir Sing-a-lot,” Virgil snorted, smirking.

“I hate that stupid smirk you get when you think you’re being clever and hot as all hell,” Roman grumbled, pouting as Virgil only smirked wider.

“Awwww, how cute~”

“Shut up, Hot Topic.”

“Aww, you think I’m hot~”

“I will actually come over there and hit you.”

“And risk messing up my hotness? Nah, you wouldn’t dare~”

_____

“Do you really have to move so far away..?” Virgil asked softly one night, a year from their first meeting.

“This school is a really good one, I want to try my luck at show business, you know?” Roman told him, holding the same sad expression as Virgil was.

“I know, it just... sucks for me,” Virgil sighed. “I feel like I just got to know you and now you’re leaving me forever.”

Roman laughed, giving Virgil an amused expression. “You say this as if I can’t text you.”

“You’ve never given me your number, I don’t know how you would,” Virgil said with a tight smile.

Roman was finding some way to laugh and find light of the situation, just as he always seemed to do. It reminded Virgil of his dad in all honesty. Virgil couldn’t see how there was much in this situation to smile about but he tried. He tried because he loved Roman.

He loved Roman..

“Roman.”

Roman’s gaze landed on Virgil as he looked up. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

If it was possible, Virgil thought this was the brightest red Roman had ever turned.

“What?”

“I love you, Roman Prince, and if that’s horribly offensive to you, you don’t have to give me your number and you can forget about me when you become a famous actor,” Virgil only half-joked, hugging himself. He shouldn’t have said that, he felt like he was going to cry and for no good reason too. He was going to look like a crybaby in front of the guy he just told about his feelings, this could not get much worse.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yeah, why else would I say it?” Virgil muttered out.

Roman laughed loudly. “I love you too, my dark and stormy knight! Oh I love you with all my heart and I will as long as you accept it!”

Virgil looked up, seeing Roman basically bouncing in place on the curb, his eyes wide and filled with excitement. He definitely was beautiful, Virgil would never doubt that.

_____

For the first time in a while, Virgil had company. Not Roman, unfortunately, he was still going to be at college for another month or so. Virgil was outside sitting with one of his dads tonight.

“So you come out here every night?” Logan asked.

“Yep, it helps.”

“I’m glad it does. I can see why, it is nice to get some fresh air. Hopefully your dad is still asleep, I’d hate for him to panic.”

“He’ll be fine, he knows I’m out here and will probably come out here to ask if he does wake up.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Virgil leaned his head on Logan’s shoulder, closing his eyes as he was pulled closer. They stayed like that in silence for a little bit.

“So when does Roman get back again?” Logan asked, a suspicious tone to his voice.

With a sigh, Virgil looked over to his papa. “He won’t be back for a-“

“Oh I think right about now,” a voice in front of them chuckled.

Virgil’s eyes flicked up in an instant.

Roman.

“You’re here early,” Virgil muttered out dumbly, something Roman was barely able to hear from across the street.

“Yep, I am,” he chuckled, bowing. “Virgil. Mr. Hart, a pleasure truly.

Logan smiled at Roman’s antics. “And to you yourself. I trust that my son is in good hands now, watch after him,” he said with a squeeze to Virgil’s shoulders before getting up and heading to the house.

“It would be my honor and privilege,” Roman said gently, more so to Virgil than anyone else.

“I can’t believe you’re here...” Virgil dumbly emphasized.

“Yes, well. I finished a semester early and wanted to hurry back home but needed to stay a few more months. I would’ve liked to spend the holidays with you ideally but c’est la vie, there’s not much I can do about it now! Is my presence still welcome regardless?” Roman asked with an awkward grin.

“Yes, god you idiot,” Virgil laughed out.

Roman couldn’t help but smile and nod. “Then I shall offer my companionship for the night,” he said as he sat down, still looking to Virgil with that smile.

Virgil quickly got up and started walking forward, stopping to look both ways across the street before rushing over to Roman, practically tackling him to the ground. Roman’s laugh was quieted as Virgil’s hands cupped his cheeks and Virgil was kissing him for a brief moment.

“Wow, oh boy, is kissing always supposed to make you feel this high?” Roman asked with a giggle, a dazed and happy expression taking over his face. “I’ll have to go away more if it means getting greetings like that,” he muttered out dreamily to himself.

Virgil flipped him off without hesitation.

“Ah, there’s my charming prince’s usual greeting, how I’ve missed it~”

“Shut up. You’re not going anywhere,” Virgil mused, kissing his cheek.

“Well with you here, it’s hardly difficult to stay~” Roman hummed, leaning in to kiss Virgil again.

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Taglist: @artissijam, @virgils-paranoia, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog

[aciid-eater]

“Teenage Fantasy” Rodrick Heffley x reader Part.2

Summary: A fateful encounter with the girl down the street will suddenly immerse a boy in a world full of wandering romance and fluttering emotions.

Warning: slightly angst-y, adult/possibly triggering themes

Song: Teenage Fantasy-Jorja Smith

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“Yeah I’m in a band, Loaded Diaper, we take big gigs.” Y/n scoffed under her breath, picking at her plate at her Family’s dinner table. Rodrick looked over at the girl, hoping to have impressed her in some way, but her irises laced in irritation didn’t look his way.

“What a coincidence, y/n makes music too!” Y/n’s mother stated.

“Really?”

Y/n dropped her fork rather loudly against her plate, glaring daggers into her mom. The tips of her fingers were shaking like rattles, stilling as she placed her hands on the large table.

“Mother.” She sighed in irritation.

“What’s wrong dear?” Y/n huffed, standing up.

“Forget it, I’ll be in my room.” She stated, leaving to put her empty plate into the sink.

“Sometimes I don’t understand her, she’s so distant.” Her mother mumbled as y/n gracefully ascended the steps to the second floor.

Lunch went smoothly after y/n left, the boys and the parents conversing mindlessly. Rodrick’s head snapped up when he heard a strong bass. It reverberated around the room, then back into his ears. Then the acoustics and beat of a soft jazz tune. His face immediately flushed when the muffled rifts of a zoned voice rang out in the room.

“There she goes again.” Y/n’s dad chuckled.

“That’s y/n?” Rodrick asked immediately.

“She sounds so good.” His mother gawked.

“She’s usually up there singing all day.” Y/n’s mother chuckled.

“Riley, go tell your sister to turn down her music.” Y/n’s mother directed. Riley groaned in his seat next to Greg. Before he could complain, Rodrick shot up quickly.

“I-I can do it.” He mumbled.

“Oh. Go ahead then, third door on the right.”

Rodrick was quick to leave the table and jog up the stairs. His eyes rolled back and a low growl fell from his lips, how could a tune, a voice sound so amazing? He trekked slowly down the hall, counting the doors as he tip toed by.

“I was told by my father, look into the future, do I really see this boy, who I think I’ve fallen for?”

The third door on the right was open, he peaked over the side, his eyes landing on y/n’s stilled form. She was sitting relaxed in a bay window and hanging over her was a professional mic. Headphones were poised over her head, they connected to a studio set up on the table across from her, including large speakers that amplified her voice throughout the house.

“We all want a Teenage Fantasy, want it when we can’t have it.”

Rodrick spent a shameful amount of time just glazing his vision over her face, eyes closed and feet propped up. Holly hills had nothing on this girl, how had he never seen her in the halls before?

“when we’ve got it we don’t seem to want it”

Y/n trailed on after the toon long dissolved, ending in a little giggle. Rodrick’s breath hitched at her smile. As y/n turned to hit a button on her equipment, she snapped her eyes to his as if she knew he was there the entire time.

“Well, did you have fun eavesdropping, brat?” She asked sassily, flocking her gaze back down to her work as Rodrick began to squirm under her stare.

“Yes- I mean- no I just-“ he cleared his throat.

“Your voice is really nice.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, mumbling a half assed thank you.

“You’ve got a nice setup in here.” He stated, eyeing her pins and dials from across the room. Y/n huffed, leaning back in her seat with her legs wide open.

“I know... why are you up here?” She asked.

“Your mom wanted me to tell you to turn it down. But now that I’m up here, I’d say what’s the harm in cracking it all the way up.” The boy smiled wickedly.

“Oohh no. Nononono. I don’t make scream music.” Y/n scoffed.

“Pft— you’re no fun.” He chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

“I make music you can feel.” She said pointedly, taking off her headset.

“Hey! You can feel the music my band makes.” Rodrick pouted.

“Yeah I can feel it breaking my eardrums. On a good day, I can hear you from my driveway.” Y/n yawned.

“I mean music you can really feel.” She said with more emphasis. Standing up from her spot on the window seat, y/n slowly made her way across the room to stand infront of the tall male.

“Here.” She mumbled. Rodrick’s breath hitched when y/n’s hand trailed up his arm, her opposite hand palming up his chest. She hooked her finger under the neck line of his black tee shirt, pulling it slightly. She leaned upwards, her bottom lip brushing against his earlobe slightly.

“There no need to rush, take your time, life’s a big ride”

She sang softly, hushed in almost a whisper. Butterflies fluttered in Rodrick’s chest, her honey like voice making his skin crawl. It was the flow of her voice that made him feel things he knew he shouldn’t have. Her words were sticky sweet in his mind, replaying them over and over until they didn’t feel the same.

“Come back to earth, brat. I know I’m good but you look like you just came on the spot” she whispered, placing a hand flat against Rodrick’s chest. He flinched at the contact, his face flushing a brighter red. Y/n listened to his stuttering, using it as an opportunity to slip her hand under the hem of his shirt. She relished in the small whimper that fell from his lips, not flinching away when Rodrick’s large hands cupped her hips.

I like this. Maybe he’s a little more than I thought he was

“Y/n! Can you come turn on the sprinklers for me?” Her mother called out from the floor below. Rodrick blinked in surprise when y/n slipped away without so much as a second glance. And when she was gone, he leaned back against her door frame, raking his hands through his hair.

[sunflowerspecter]

any moment, any time (a.h.)

summary: being in love is hard, in your line of work. you only hope that you can tell him all of your feelings before it’s too late. unrelated, his brother is your best friend. 

warnings: this one is... just, filled with angst, my loves. i’m so sorry. there’s also a lot of fluff, to make up for it, though. angst with a happy ending (you hope)

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader (gender neutral, but if i made a mistake let me know!)

words: 4801

part: 1/2 (part two sometime in the next few days, just because this one turned out pretty long)  part two

note: originally titled ‘best friend’s brother’ after the song from victorious (yes), this started as a 3k domestic fluff piece with a high school trope and turned into the disaster that it is. if you can name all the songs i quote throughout this i’ll give you bonus points. i regret everything. 

To say that you were exhausted would be a bit of an understatement—but that’s what four and a half hours worth of paperwork did to a person. You loved your job, and you loved the BAU, they were your family, but there was truly nothing better than falling into bed at the end of the day. 

When you got home, however, there was a human lying on your bed, hands behind his head, legs crossed, eyes watching you. 

Sean Hotchner, in all his glory. 

“Damnit,” you laugh. “What the hell are you doing here?” You crossed the room as he moved over. You sat beside him and he threw an arm over your shoulder. 

“What, I can’t drop in to say hello to my best friend randomly?” he asked. 

You shrugged. “No, you can, but you can’t break into my apartment randomly.” He practically leaped off the bed, turning to sit at your desk, across the room from the bed. 

“Well, I’m here now, so you have to put up with me.” 

You kicked off your shoes, throwing your blazer on the floor and beginning to change into the first pair of pajamas you could find. You and Sean had been best friends for so long that changing in front of the other was normal, and you trusted him. Besides, you were too tired to care. 

“Well, I’ve had a very long day in the office, so you’ll have to talk to me in the morning.” 

Sean laughed, quietly, hesitantly, and said, “My brother treating you guys good?” 

You lay down, pulling the covers over yourself and staring at the ceiling. Oh, so many ways you could have answered that question. So many things that you didn’t want to think about. So many things that it wasn’t okay to think about your best friend’s brother. But that was a conversation for another day. You didn’t want to explain your feelings for your best friend’s brother to your best friend, not yet. And yes, you felt so guilty for it, especially with the workplace flirting between you and Aaron, and the not-so-appropriate glances and yes, even the standing too close to each other made you feel guilty. But you couldn’t tell Sean. You weren’t ready. “Yes,” you said plainly. “He’s good at what he does.” 

Sean scoffed, nodding. “Yes, he is.” He got up, then moved to lay beside you. “I’m here till Saturday, can I crash here?” 

You turned to face him, where he was staring at the ceiling, much like you were. “Of course.” 

“You’re the best,” he said, and you laughed. 

“Don’t you forget that.” You let out a sigh, then said, “How’ve you been?” 

He opened his mouth, then closed it, and turned to face you. “Okay, I guess.” 

“You guess?” 

“Just been a tough couple of months,” he said, and before you could respond, he said, “Go to sleep. You’re exhausted. We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

You wanted to argue, but then you nodded. You were tired. “Okay,” you whispered. “It’s good to see you.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Missed you. Now go to sleep.” He turned over and slipped under your arm, letting you push your fingers through his hair. It had been a year-and-a-half since you and Sean had been able to see each other last, and it had been a year since you had come to terms with your feelings for your boss. You wanted to tell Sean (he was always telling you that you spend too much time hunting serial killers and not enough time meeting people), but there was no way he would want you seeing his brother. 

Another day, you thought. Another day. 

~~~oOo~~~ 

“Sir,” you said, knocking on Hotch’s door. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, but when you no longer could, you blamed them on the fact that you were about to get personal with your boss, and say something that you probably shouldn’t. 

“Come in,” you heard, so you did. He was sitting at his desk, doing paperwork. He didn’t look up as you walked in, so you stood awkwardly for a moment. He finished writing the sentence, then looked up at you. “Are you alright, Y/n?” 

You nodded quickly, swallowing. “Look, it’s none of my business,” you started, and the look on his face made you rush out, “and it’s nothing bad. But he’s my best friend, and I’d like to say that I’d consider you a friend,” (just friends), “so for the sake of both of you, I’m going to tell you. Sean’s in town—” he opened his mouth to say something, but you kept talking— “and I think it would do you both good if you would give him a call.” 

He froze, not exactly sure what to say to you. He ended up just shaking his head. “I appreciate your concern, but,” he stopped, then looked up at you. “Since when are you friends with Sean?” 

The question catches you off guard, and you step back. “Since… I don’t know. A few years, I think? You know this. He was visiting you here, started talking to me in the bullpen, we exchanged numbers, started talking.” You breathed out, then said, “I hardly see how that’s relevant.” 

He shook his head. “You’re right, it isn’t.” He sighed, and crossed his arms. “Is that all?” 

No, dumbass, I’m in love with you, a voice in your head said. 

“Yes, it is,” your actual voice said. You turned on your heel and walked out of the room, closing the door as gently as possible behind you. JJ looked up at you, tilting her head. When you sat at your desk, she and Emily exchanged looks. 

“What was that about?” JJ asked. Emily nodded behind her, looking you up and down. 

“Nothing important,” you said. 

“Did you tell him that you love him?” Emily said, and you immediately glanced around the room to see if anyone heard, but no one was in close proximity, save for Spencer, listening to a tape with his headphones. 

“Emily,” you hissed. “No, no I did not, and no, I am not.” 

JJ groaned. “Oh, come on! You know it’s true.” 

You leaned back in your seat, covering your eyes with your hands. “He’s my boss.” 

“Yeah, but technically, you report to Rossi, so you wouldn’t be breaking any rules,” Emily said. 

“He’s just as head over heels for you as you are for him,” JJ added. 

You sighed. You were about to retort it, when Garcia walked in. “New cases, ladies! And Spencer.” 

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, remembering that Sean was probably raiding your kitchen at that exact moment. You stood and pulled out your phone as Emily and JJ started heading to the conference room. 

“I’ll be up in a moment,” you said to them. As soon as they left, you called Sean. It went to voicemail, which could not be a good sign. You started speaking as you walked up to the conference room.“Hi, Sean, it’s me, call me when you get this, but I’m at work, we just got a case, not sure how long it will take, but you know where my spare key is.” You stopped a few feet from the door, making sure your team couldn’t hear you. “Don’t set my apartment on fire. Love you, bye.” 

The conference room was dead silent when you walked into the room. 

“Love you, bye,” Morgan said. Your jaw dropped, and you immediately turned to Hotch, who was looking through the case file, jaw clenched. 

JJ and Emily and Garcia had equally horrified expressions on their face (they all knew you loved Hotch. And also you were supposed to tell them everything). You shook your head at them.

Rossi was quietly trying to explain what had happened to Reid. “Did you all eavesdrop on my private conversation?” The girls and Morgan nodded, Rossi sighed, and Hotch didn’t move. “How much of that did you hear?” 

“Don’t set my apartment on fire,” Morgan said. “So, who’s the guy?” 

You shook your head and sat down. “A close friend is staying at my place.” Hotch looked up at you then, and tilted his head. You could watch it click in his head, as he realized his brother was staying at your place. ‘I’m sorry,’ you mouthed at him, but he just shook his head and tried to soften his face as much as possible, to show he wasn’t upset. You could see right past it. 

“We have four fires in Wyoming,” Garcia said, clicking through the pictures of the buildings. “And 13 people dead. After further examination, the coroner determined that all of the victims were dead before the fire started.” 

“Wait,” Morgan said, “so this guy is killing people, and then lighting the buildings up to cover his tracks?” 

“Is it the kill or the fire that gets him off?” Rossi added. 

“That’s what we have to find out. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said, and the team dispersed. You longed to go after Hotch, to maybe explain, to say something, anything, but you didn’t. You walked with Spencer to get your go bags. 

“So, I may have overheard you and JJ and Emily talking a little bit,” he said. You looked up at him and he shrugged. “I think you and Hotch would make a good couple. You balance each other out, and you’re always bouncing ideas off of each other.” Reid paused, then shook his head. 

“What is it?” you asked, stopping him before you reached your desks. 

He laughed, “It’s just that you and Hotch have mom and dad vibes.” 

“We… we do?” You sort of laughed at the thought. You ruffled Spencer’s hair and then shook your head, grabbing your things. 

“Besides, you guys would make a pretty couple.” Your head snapped up to look at him, but he was distracted, gathering his own things.

“Spencer!” you laughed, and he just shrugged. 

“I’m not wrong.” 

“No, you’re never wrong, pretty boy,” you said. And then you and him walked to the plane, and he recounted the latest strange and obscure fact he heard. 

“You know, I think I actually read about that,” you said. 

“Really?” he asked, sitting by the window. 

“No.” You sat across from him as Hotch walked in the room. He sat beside you, and you had to pretend it didn’t affect you. 

“Hey, look,” you whispered to him. He turned to you, and you sighed. “Yes, Sean is staying at my place, but I just want you to know that—” 

“No, it’s okay. What you said earlier, you were just looking out for your boyfriend, who happens to be my brother, it’s okay.” 

Your jaw dropped as he turned away. “Boyfriend?” you hissed, as low as you could so the team wouldn't hear as they boarded. “Sean is not my boyfriend, Hotchner.” But I wish you were.

“I’m sorry, I just assumed,” he said quietly, his eyes boring into your soul. 

You crossed your arms. “God, you call yourself such a great profiler, but you really can’t profile your friends,” you whispered, so quietly that even he couldn’t hear you. 

You were quiet for the rest of the plane ride, and by the time you got to Wyoming, it was already late. You went straight to the hotel, where you split off into pairs. Of course, the team sensed the tension between you and Hotch, and being the troublemakers that they were, decided to put you and him together. 

“It’s best for the team that you work out your issues,” JJ said. 

“It’s in our best interest,” Emily said. 

“We need you at your best,” Rossi said. 

And then, Spencer, with: “Contrary to popular belief, forced proximity actually does little to grow bonds between—” 

And then a unanimous: “Shut up!” 

And then, there’s a, “Fuck,” as you entered the room. 

You felt a little bit like you were living in a bad romance novel as you saw it: the room had one bed. 

It was fine. Adults can share beds. It’s only mature. You shared a bed with the other Hotchner brother just last night. This would be a breeze. 

It was not a breeze when you almost forgot he was there and started to strip in the middle of the room, only to shriek and run to the bathroom. 

It was also not a breeze when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a soft t-shirt and pajama pants that made your heart skip (several) beats. 

It was also not a breeze when he tried to take the floor and you said that it was only reasonable that you share because the team wanted us to bond and we aren’t going to do that on separate levels. 

“And also if you're on the floor and a serial killer walks in, you’re the first target,” you said. 

He furrowed his brow, confused, and titled his head. He didn’t exactly know what to say, so he just said, “Okay. But I’m sleeping on the side closest to the door, so I’m still the first target,” he said, and you almost laughed, because it was almost funny. 

“I’m sorry about the comment I made on the plane,” he said. “I… I was jealous, and I let my emotions get the better of me.” 

“Jealous?” you said (you couldn’t help yourself). You were lying on your back, staring at the ceiling, and he was on his side, facing away from you. 

“Maybe that wasn’t the right word.” 

“Then what word would you have used?” 

“I’m not sure. Reid would probably have the exact word for this feeling.” 

You stifled a laugh and shrugged, turning just your head to look at him. “Well, whatever it was, rest assured, Sean and I aren’t together like that. We’re just friends.”

He made a noise just to assure you that he heard in, and then he went silent. “Goodnight, Y/n,” he said. 

“Goodnight, Aaron.” 

And that’s how, at three am, you sent a text to Sean of sleeping Aaron Hotchner, facing away from you, saying, ‘God is testing me.’ Of course, that was meant to go to JJ. 

“Shit,” you muttered, trying to delete the text (and almost not succeeding, but that god for Garcia’s technology hacks) and sending it to its intended recipient. You didn’t exactly want to send pictures of your best friend’s brother to your best friend in the middle of the night. 

Hotch stirred, beside you. You were sitting up, leaning against the headboard, and he was still on his side, facing the door. “Ev’ry think okay?” he muttered, and you patted his shoulder. 

“Yes, love, go to sleep,” you said, running a finger down his arm (in a completely platonic attempt to get your friend back to sleep). He flipped over to face you, then, eyes wide open. You silently cursed yourself. “I just called you love.” 

“Yes, you did, love,” he said, and you sighed.

“It’s too early to be made fun of.” 

His eyes darkened and he shook his head. “Except for I’m dead serious,” he said. You looked at him, and he sat up too, moving closer to you. “It’s not fair,” he said, “it’s not fair how much I love you.” 

You shook your head, then leaned over and kissed his forehead. “It’s late and you’re half asleep,” you whispered. “Tell me in the morning if you mean it.” 

He was too tired to argue, so he huffed an, “A’ight,” and lay his head in your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair and his breathing deepened, falling to sleep right away. He looked so innocent while he slept, as if the horrors of his day simply weren’t there. As if he wasn’t haunted day and night by things most people only experience in horror films. As if he hadn’t lived through more than his fair share of trauma. 

He was just… peaceful. 

~~~oOo~~~

You woke up slowly, Hotch held in your arms. You were surprised at how cuddly he was, only because of his hard exterior, but you were pleasantly surprised. He absolutely deserved to be taken care of. He stirred, blinking rapidly for a second and lifting himself slightly off of you, taking in his surroundings. 

“Hi,” he murmured, laying his head against your chest and slipping his arms around your waist. 

“Hello,” you said back. “We should get ready.” 

“We have time,” he said, pulling you closer. 

You pushed your hand through his hair. “Whatever you say, sir.” 

~~~oOo~~~

“You’re here early,” Morgan said as he walked into the room. “That can’t be good. You and the bossman fight?” 

You sighed, resisting the urge to say, ‘I wish,’ and instead saying, “I neither confirm nor deny that.” After a few minutes, you had untangled yourself from Hotch and gotten ready for the day, 3 am conversations and 6 am cuddles forgotten. 

Spencer walked in a few minutes after Morgan, talking animatedly to JJ, explaining one of the many books on fire he read during the night. You shared a glance with JJ, who excused herself and immediately walked to you. 

“Y/n,” she whispered, and you shook your head. “There was one bed!” she said, too loudly. 

“Wait, you and Hotch slept in the same bed?” Morgan said, and you groaned. 

“Yes! There was one bed, and we were both too tired to fight it, and we’re both mature adults, and it’s not like I haven’t shared a bed with a Hotchner before—” which is not what you meant to say, especially not as Hotch walked into the room. His eyes widened (for a brief moment) and he sat down, choosing to ignore the comment. 

“Let’s get to work.” 

~~~oOo~~~

It was supposed to be easy. You had an address, and you were half an hour out. But Hotch and Emily and Reid had been interviewing a witness, and they were ten minutes out. 

In twenty minutes, Emily had been shot (thank god for bullet proof vests, but she’d have a nasty scar), Hotch was taken hostage, and Spencer was, luckily, unharmed. 

“Oh, my god,” Rossi said, as you, Morgan, and JJ approached Emily and Reid, who were standing by their car. 

“Where’s Hotch?” you asked, and Emily shook her head. 

“There’s four of them,” Emily said. 

“We got the profile wrong?” 

“No,” Spencer said, moving his hands with his words, “it’s his family, they’re protecting him.” 

“Wait, so Hotch is still in there?” you said, looking towards the window. 

Rossi, who had taken a phone call as you discussed it, said, “SWAT and backup is on their way.” 

You glanced around and noticed that police were blocking off the scene, and JJ was talking to the press. Your head was spinning. 

“Fuck,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. 

“What’s the plan?” Morgan asked, and Rossi gave him an uneasy look. Hotch was always the one who came up with plans in situations like these. Damn. Rossi made the plan, and started talking to the team and a group of officers. 

“We surround the house. I want everyone looking for viewpoints inside. Make sure my agent is okay—” the thought made you shiver “—and we trust him if he’s talking.” 

The group nodded, and someone asked, “If we get a shot, do we take it?” 

Rossi shook his head. “No; they have weapons and will hurt my agent if one of their own is attacked. We want this to go down as peacefully as possible.” 

You bit your lip as Morgan handed you a vest. Your eyes didn’t leave the house. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you told him. 

“It’s gonna be okay. Hotch is strong, he’s probably talking them down as we speak.” You nodded, huffing out a sigh. Morgan sighed. “He’s going to live, and you and him are going to talk about your feelings, and you’re going to be the happiest couple in the BAU,” he said. 

You gave him a half smile. “Thank you.” 

He pat your shoulder, tilting his head toward the group. “No problem. Now let’s go save your man.” 

~~~oOo~~~

The ambulance ride was your least favorite part. They wouldn’t let you ride with Hotch (something about claustrophobia and how they needed more EMTs and you would just take up space). So instead you were sitting in an ambulance, Reid on one side of you and Emily on the other, Morgan getting his arm stitched up across from you. Rossi was driving JJ to the hospital, saying that they would meet you there. 

Your only thought the entire time was that Hotch was in that ambulance by himself with a goddamn gunshot wound. 

“What’s the statistical likelihood that Hotch dies?” you said, looking to Reid, who shook his head.

“I don’t think you want to know, honestly.” 

Emily put her arm around your shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay, I swear.” 

You weren’t regretting not telling him that you love him. You weren’t regretting not kissing him or taking him to see the sunset or learning about the stars with him or showing him all of the wonderful things life offers. You weren’t regretting not doing that, no. You were regretting that you wouldn’t be able to do that. You weren’t regretting what you didn’t do, no, because the past is the past and you can’t change what you didn’t have the courage to do. You were regretting what you wouldn’t be able to do, things that hadn’t had the chance to be. The dreams you hadn’t yet had that were crushed before they even surfaced. 

You were crying before you even reached the hospital. Reid was rubbing your arms and Emily had you in her arms, and Morgan was on the phone with Rossi. You cried all the way into the building and all the way up the stairs and all the way into the waiting room. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore and JJ handed you a bottle of water. 

“Drink up, Y/n,” she said gently, “Aaron would want you to.” 

You nodded, feeling a little numb. You weren’t sure how long you were going to be sitting their in anguish, waiting for a doctor to come in the room. Maybe it would be a nurse. Either way, they would have a look on their face, a mix of being tired from having been through such a long surgery and the pain of having it be for nothing. The pain of having to walk out here and tell a group of strangers that their loved one died, and that they tried to stop it, they did, but they couldn’t. 

It ate away at your thoughts, your stomach doing flips and your head spinning. You felt lighter, all of a sudden. Like you could take a step and float away, even though you were sitting down. And then the room got really loud. But not the voices, it was a ringing in your ear, a sound the color silver, and then it was a sharp pain in your skull. 

“Y/n! Y/n, can you hear me?” you heard a soft, female voice say, but you couldn’t exactly place it. 

“Get help,” a deeper voice said, and then you recognized that as Morgan, and you shook your head, drinking some of the water JJ gave you and closing your eyes. 

“I’m just dehydrated, and the fluorescent lights aren’t helping,” you said. Then you remembered, “I have to call Sean.” You stood up and walked out of the room as quickly as possible, walking right out the sliding door and into the cool night air. 

The phone rang twice before he picked up. “Hello?” 

“Hey, Sean,” you said, voice breaking. 

“Are you okay? What happened?” 

You looked down at your shoes (they were dirty from running after serial killers and kicking down doors and running into houses where the love of your life has just been shot). “It’s… it’s Aaron,” you said. 

A pause. “What about Aaron?” 

“He was… he was shot.” 

Silence. A silence that lasted so long that you could almost feel reality bending around you. 

“He was shot?” Sean’s voice was eerily calm. Until it wasn’t. “Is he alive? Oh, my god, Y/n, is he alive?” 

Stray tears slipped down your face. “He’s in surgery right now. I… he didn’t look good when I saw him.” 

When you saw him… it brings up a whole new wave of emotions. 

There were gunshots fired. You were behind the house, in case anyone ran. By the time you got back around, one guy was dead, two were in handcuffs, and one was shot. You didn’t see Aaron, and Rossi and Morgan were busy, and Reid was talking to an officer, and JJ was talking to the press, and Emily was yelling for a medic. 

A medic. 

Your feet were moving before you could even think it, and you were in the house in an instant. Aaron was lying on the floor, a growing spot of red on his white shirt. You could hear Emily tell you to stay with him while she got someone’s attention. 

“No,” you muttered, kneeling beside his barely-conscious body. Distantly, you heard a train. “No, Aaron, can you hear me?” 

“I… I can hear you,” he said, and you cupped his cheek with one hand while you tried to stop the bleeding with the other, to no avail. You didn’t want to hurt him more; you didn’t press that hard, but you also didn’t want him to die in your arms. 

“Where’s the goddamn medic?” you cried, and you felt Aaron grasp at you, trying to grab your hand. “Hey, I’m here, stay with me, you’re going to be okay.” He was slipping away, his eyes fluttering closed. “No, no, look at me,” you said. 

“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice scratchy. 

“Count to ten,” you said, pushing hair from his face, encouraging him to keep his eyes trained on you. 

“One,” he said, tightening and then loosening his grip on your arm. You saw the paramedics out of the corner of your eye, and you silently prayed to whoever was listening. “Two.” 

“Good, Aaron, good, the paramedics are here, you’re gonna be okay,” you said as Emily stepped towards you, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from him.

When the ambulance started, they wouldn’t let you go with him. They needed all the space they could get, which made your heart stop.  As soon as he was out of your sight, you turned to Emily and sobbed in her arms. She held you tight, understanding. 

“Y/n?” Sean said. You blinked. 

“Will you tell Jessica? And tell her not to tell Jack yet?” 

You heard Sean sigh through the phone. “Yeah, I can do that. Let me know what happens.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said. 

“I’m sorry, too,” he said. “Love you, Y/n.” 

“Love you too, Sean. Stay safe. Call you soon. Bye.” 

Hanging up the phone, you let out a sigh. You spent a minute catching your breath. You wanted to be strong. You wanted to be so strong, and take this like a champ, and somehow know that everything was going to be okay because it had too, but it was so hard. It was so hard. 

But you found yourself back in the waiting room as the sun began to rise, slowly, and birds began chirping. It was a wonder that they could go on, and be so lovely, while you were in so much pain. The birds had not a care in the world. You longed to be a bird. The thought of your friend dying not a worry. The thought of your friend dying, alone, in a hospital room with strangers desperately trying to save him… not a worry. Oh, to be a bird. 

Garcia was in the room, as she had flown in as soon as possible. She hugged you tightly as soon as she saw you. 

“How are you holding up, dearest?” she asked you, to which you just shrugged. You and her sat beside each other, and you noticed her red-rimmed eyes. 

“Are you okay?” 

She nodded. “I’m just worried about Hotch, is all.” 

A doctor walked into the room. “Are you all here for Aaron Hotchner?” 

Simultaneously, you all stood. “Yes,” JJ said. 

The doctor gave a once over to the group, then said to JJ, “He’s alive,” (cue you nearly falling until Morgan grabbed your elbow) “but he’s asleep right now. We aren’t exactly sure when he’ll wake up, but it’ll probably be a few days.” 

The tension in the group immediately lightened, and you were the first one to say, “Can we see him?” 

“Yes,” she said. “Just don’t crowd the room.” 

[thewindsofsong]

Liu Sang has a brother and is also 12 when the fire happens Pt. 2

Part 1 is over here if you don’t know whats going on here; https://thewindsofsong.tumblr.com/post/640681428643905536/liu-sang-has-a-brother-and-is-also-12-when-the

When Erbai receives the call from Wu Xie he feels the beginnings of a headache. He looks into the background of the Liu brother’s and is more successful in learning the full story of what happened. Turns out there were some inheritance issues that were starting to be brought out concerning Liu Sang’s mother’s wealth. Stepmother apparently didn’t like the idea of it and started planting the idea of infidelity into Liu baba’s head. After forcing liu sang to have blood drawn, there was a suspicious withdrawal from one of Stepmother’s private accounts. 

The fire that killed the couple happened less than a week after the results came back. Preliminary results from investigators show signs of large amounts of accelerant splashed around the house and records of Dad having purchased a large quantity of lighter fluid. With that information, it wasn’t hard to put together the rest of the picture, especially with the way Stepmother’s family were poorly disguising frustration with Liu Sang’s survival with more bribes to convince investigators to put the purchase of lighter fluid on Liu Sang’s shoulders.

Now that his nephew had taken an interest in the two brothers, there was no way he was going to allow such dangerous and incompetent enemies to go unaddressed. Something like this could also use his mother’s touch to resolve. 

The combined power of Wu Nainai and Wu Erbai descend onto stepmother’s family without mercy. Custody agreements are reached in record time, finances are settled with a distinct winner, and arrests are made for bribery as the truth is made public. As minors, a lot of the personal details of where the two brothers end up are kept private and Wu Nainai and Erbai are content with the revenge they’ve wrought. 

(Stepmother’s family is left in significant debt, a ruined reputation, and several individuals in prison. All thoughts of further retaliation are abandoned at the thought of an old, dignified woman who didn’t even bother to speak to them directly with the coldest eyes they had ever seen and the middle aged man that stood behind her.) 

Meanwhile, Wu Xie is quickly realizing that taking care of two traumatized kids is harder than he thought. Liu Sang can be frighteningly differential, always seeming to walk on eggshells and constantly terrified of angering Wu Xie. Liu Yang varies from a quiet shadow that clings to his brother’s sleeve to a small hellion that almost breaks several artifacts in fits of rebellion. If it wasn’t for the near animalistic fear that takes over Liu Sang after each fit of temper from Liu Yang, Wu Xie would almost find it amusing. 

He tries to look up information on trauma and how to help people going through trauma, but it being sometime in the mid 2000s, there isn’t too much information to find. When he asks Wu Naiani for advice, she just advises to be a solid support, but to set firm boundaries of what is or isn’t allowable. Taking that advice, the next time Liu Yang acts out, he makes him do simple chores like helping him wash the dishes and hang laundry while not allowing Liu Yang to watch the latest episode of the tv show he had been watching. Liu Sang is told not to help his brother so he can learn that he can’t just try and break things when he needs attention. While doing chores together, Wu Xie has one sided conversations with Liu Yang, with Liu Sang eavesdropping, about all the adventures he’s had so far in the first through  third books. He talks about Pangzi and Xiaoge and how they became friends helping each other out through life and death situations. Liu Yang is reluctantly impressed by how his new caretaker is apparently at least kind of a badass while Liu Sang is fascinated by the way Xiaoge is described and wonders if he’ll ever get a chance to meet Wu Xie’s friends. 

At some point, Wu Xie learns that Liu Sang has very sensitive hearing, maybe when there’s a crash of some kind outside the shop or someone sets off some fireworks in the middle of the night, waking up Liu Sang with a scare. Wu Xie makes sure to get Liu Sang his first pair of noise cancelling headphones and takes him to the hospital to make sure it isn’t a sign of something bad happening. The results from the hospital show that he just has ridiculously good hearing. Liu Sang does have a panic attack at the hospital, but is able to work through it with Wu Xie’s help. 

After a month or so, the Liu brothers are getting settled back  into a somewhat normal routine, with school and what not, when the events leading up to the next tomb exploration start. 

[redneckangelsdrinkmoonshine]

Okay, here's a thing -

I kind of like that Cas and John never met because if they did, well, lemme use the form of fanfic to show you what I think would've happened:

-

"Dean?"

"Cas! Come here buddy, want you to meet someone!"

Castiel walked down the noisy metal stairs, took a second to process where his human's voice was coming from and once he decided it was the kitchen, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his trench coat and headed down the hall. A small smile curled at the corners of his lips as Dean and Sam's laughter echoed off the walls, a sound that made his heart warm but unfortunately he got to hear it on a rather rare occasion.

Castiel stood in the doorway, about to greet his family, when his blood started to boil and turned to ice at the same time. He clenched his jaw as he pulled his hands out of his pockets and instead widened his stance with clenched fists.

That monster sat there on Castiel's chair, chugging down what the angel assumed was his third beer. The smile on Dean's face, who seemed to be drunk on his daddy's venom, pierced right through Castiel's heart as he innocently introduced them to one another, "Dad, this is Castiel, that son of a bitch who gripped me tight and raised me from perdition." Dean lifted the sleeve of his shirt to reveal the scar that had stayed there. Castiel got on idea.

John's expression was already sour but Castiel wanted to make things better. He gave John a brief, plastic smile before he decided to focus his attention on his adorable lover who was wearing plaid pyjama pants and one of Castiel's t-shirt's from his time as a human, "Well, I like to mark what's mine. Babe, would you get me a beer?" Castiel softly bumped his foot against Sam's who slammed his beer down as he started to choke. Judging by his twitching nose, he was actually laughing at John's pure expression of horror and Dean's slightly shocked face. The older brother didn't hesitate as he got up and walked to the refrigerator to pull out a cold one for Cas. He put it down in front of Castiel and Sam let out a wheeze that he masked with a cough when Castiel gently patted Dean's bum, "Thank you." Dean nodded with a soft smile before he returned to his seat, way too scared to look John in the eyes and instead focusing his eyes on Sammy and his lover.

John spoke up as he raised from his chair, looking down at Castiel, "'Ey, Cas, why don't you come with me.. I think we need to have a chat." Dean's eyebrows lifted briefly and he momentarily flared his nose drills at his angel. Castiel gave him a reassuring grin before he took the beer, removed the cap with two fingers and finished the whole thing in three chugs. He stood up from the chair and a smirk curled at his lips when he saw the small surprise in John's otherwise cold eyes. Without saying a word, Castiel walked out of the kitchen confidently, not looking back even though he didn't hear the man follow him until later.

Castiel was sitting on his chair at the big wooden table in the library when John's low voice made his presence known, "So... You're the angel who saved my son from hell? After his stupidity got him there in the first place?" Castiel got up, letting his true eyes flash for a moment, knowing damn well the bright blue light that poured out of them always made his power known," First off, I'm not just an angel. A Seraph, to be exact. In fact, I'm taller than most of your sky scrapers here. And second, please tell me how your son is stupid when you did the exact same thing not that long before him?" John's jaw twitched but not like Dean's did when he was angry, John looked like a snake when he did that, "I let them torture me for a one hundred years while my son wasn't even able to go thirty years before he -" "I'm going to stop you here. You see, you most likely think I don't know what happened while you were in Hell. But I do, I know every single second of it. I know how at one point you begged them to torture you, because they never even touched you with a finger. The form of torture they had for you was to have all the times you let your kids down, all the times you hurt the ones you were supposed to raise with love, replay in front of your eyes but not from your point of view but from their's. You felt their pain, you felt their anger and I am sure that no matter what you'd ever say, that hurt so bad that you'd prefer any other form of physical torture than that. But listen to me, your son has a heart of gold. The time he lasted was longer than most because people usually give up five minutes after the torture's began. When your son gave up, I had people of my qarrison, good solders, I made them follow me down there so I could save him. The moment I held him against my chest, I felt like home, that's how pure your son's heart is, heart that ached for love since it was born. I've given up powers, I've given up armies, I've given up Heaven for your sons and I would do that again. But for now, one of them expects me to be their family and the other expects me to love him unconditionally. Well, that's exactly what I am gonna do."

Castiel turned to walk away when John's voice made him stop a few feet away from him, "How exactly can a low-life disgrace like you TEACH my kids how to love is so unclear to me. You're nothing but a faggot that somehow got lucky and now you're pouring your poison all over th-" John wasn't able to finish his sentence because Castiel's fist sent him to the ground before he could. He crouched down and gripped John's neck with one hand before he lifted him up effortlessly, the punches and kicks that John desperately tried to lay on him didn't make him even twitch because the anger in his veins burned worse than any other form of injury he could get. He heard Sam and Dean call his voice, he was aware that both had followed them and eavesdropped the entire time, but he didn't care. John gasped for air as Castiel spoke up, his voice low and dangerous, "You think Heaven gives a damn about who you lay with? You're damn wrong. You see, even if you have an icon in your car somewhere, if you were a piece of shit then you still go to Hell. Too bad Heaven's already using you like one of their batteries." Castiel released John from his grip and the man fell to the ground with a groan. The angel put two fingers to his forehead and smirked when John flinched," What's up, boy? I thought you're not scared of some fag with power." John stared up at Castiel in surprise when he realized that whatever injuries he had were gone.

Castiel turned on his heel and walked away while Sam helped his father up, just to get pushed away with "I'm fine" growled under his breath. Dean, however, followed Castiel, but the angel was too ashamed to look at these soft green eyes that he loved so much.

"Cas, wait." Castiel did. He sighed before he turned to face the man, but his eyes were glued to Dean's shoes instead of his eyes, "Look, I won't apologize for what I just did because I had to. Ever since you were born, even before that, ever since Mary bought that angel figurine I had to watch that assbutt treat his family like crap and all of the pent up anger released itself and I know I should've just walked away, I tried to, but then he decided he knew Heaven better and I shouldn't show you and your brother love when you need it and I-"

Castiel's eyes widened in surprise when he was pulled into a kiss. Dean's hands cupped his face softly but firmly as everything was he wasn't able to say with words was poured into that kiss. The "I love you." to the "Thank you." and even the "That was extremely hot." Castiel allowed his eyes to shut before he slowly sneaked his hands under Dean's shirt and dug his fingertips into Dean's back just the way he knew Dean liked it. The low sound that rumbled from somewhere in his human's chest indicated that he had done a good job in remembering all of Dean's weak spots.

When they pulled back they both had smiles that were drunk with love, Castiel's hair was all over the place because sometime during their kiss Dean had started to run his fingers through it and pull. The tie on Cas's suit was also loosened and his shirt was unbuttoned three buttons down. Castiel's hands were still under Dean's clothes but no longer under Dean's shirt. Dean giggled in a way that would've made him terrified earlier in his life but he no longer gave a damn because he was in love and that was important, "You think what I'm thinking?" Castiel pretended to think which made Dean swat at his chest playfully. Castiel chucked as he gripped Dean's hand and started to pull him down the hall, "Let's go, cowboy."

What followed afterwards was Heaven on Earth for the two but complete Hell for John who took the guest room that was just down the hall. Sammy had learned his lesson and he had bought himself noise cancelling headphones and enough podcasts to help him through the night if one of Rowena's spells failed and his room was no longer soundproof.

-

To be honest... Yeah, they should've met AT LEAST ONCE.

[hattywatch]

K. Hayes - All My Own in a Big Red Bow 2

A/N: I miss hockey. Please enjoy a nice little break from the state of the world before we all go back to dismantling the establishment. :) Love y’all, especially Kevin Hayes. 

The frosting feels sticky against your fingers as you swipe it over a 20th cupcake with the butter knife in your hand. Only 40 more to go. 

When Kevin stomps his dopey, floppy self into the kitchen with his xbox headphones on, you quickly use your body to shield your work. 

"Hands OFF mister," you swat at him and he tips the mic up to mute himself. 

"I'm between games. Lemme just get one!" He succeeds in grabbing the butter knife, covered in chocolate frosting, and sliding it across his tongue. 

You wrinkle your nose in mock disgust, "You're gross, you know that? Totally nasty." He hangs his tongue out of his mouth and wiggles it obscenely. 

"Yeah. You didn't have a problem with that last night, though." Heat slips down your spine at the memory. 

"Okay… you're not wrong, you're just an asshole." You slide open the drawer at your hip and grab a clean knife to replace the one Kevin is still licking frosting off of. "Get out of the damned kitchen! I'm trying to make these so your family will love me. You're halting my progress. Go away." 

He pulls the mic down, "Do this one without me boys. I'll be back in a bit." 

He takes off the headphones entirely and leaves the kitchen to return them to the living room. When he comes back he looks at you seriously, as seriously as he can while still lapping up frosting residue. 

"You're aware of the fact that my family currently loves and has always loved you?" You shrug and change the knife again to switch over to the vanilla frosting. "You're already a part of my family," he continues sweetly, dropping the knife into the dishwasher now that he's done with it.

Sighing, you pause your icing for a moment, "It just…" you rest the knife gently against the frosting container and put the cupcake you're working on into the tupperware before looking up at Kevin. "This is the first family party since we're…" 

You pause. 

You don't want to say it. 

You and Kevin have been having fun lately. A lot of fun, as he alluded to only minutes ago. 

What you have yet to do was put a label on anything. This is the first family party since... we're together? This is the first family party since we've been fucking? This is the first family party where you invited me instead of my sister?

Nothing you're thinking feels quite right and you just let the sentence hang, heavy and dense in the air. 

Kevin's eyes are clear blue, shining bright against his tanned summer complexion, but you can't bring yourself to look at them, choosing instead to focus on the clock on the stove, which tells you that you have exactly two hours before you need to leave to get to this party. 

The cupcakes are still not frosted. 

They're going to hate you.

Finally, Kevin reaches out and touches your shoulder. "This is really important to you, huh? These stupid cupcakes?" 

You meet his gaze now, "They really, really are." You're almost embarrassed to say it, but it's the truth. 

"Okay, let's get to work then," he picks up the container of sprinkles and starts dusting them over the tops of the already frosted desserts.

"You're really the best," you nudge him with your hip as you resume your icing job. 

He smiles at you, dopey and lopsided, "If it's important to you then it's important to me." You're sure the look you give back to him is just as dopey. 

__________

You've been to your sister's house a thousand other times, but when Kevin pulls his truck up  outside of it this time you might as well be a stranger. 

"Why are you so nervous today? You know all of these people. What's up with you?" Kevin had graciously helped you finish the decorating and then watched you change your clothes four times before ultimately deciding on the first outfit anyway. He's a highly patient man, but you could tell he's confused at best and possibly worried about your psyche at worst. 

"Please don't make me explain? I promise I will, just not right now. Please?" He closes his eyes and lets out a breath, bolstering his patience once more. 

"Alright, but we gotta talk about it sometime, promise?" You nod and start getting out of the car before grabbing the present you have in the back for your brother-in-law, letting Kevin balance the trays and trays of cupcakes.

Holding the door open, you let Kevin in first so he can drop the tupperware on the counter. He shouts out for Jimmy, hugging his brother as he pulls him away from a conversation with their father. 

The brothers exchange a few "hey mans" and a hug before Kevin turns to you; he motions for you to come over to them. 

"I brought my girl, hope that's okay," he tells the room at large before wrapping his arm  around your waist. 

Your sister smiles from where she's feeding the baby on the couch, Kevin's dad rolls his eyes and his son's antics, and his mom smiles knowingly at you and Kevin. 

Jimmy laughs and rolls his eyes, "I've heard a lot about you," he reaches out and shakes your hand. 

You're not sure if you're highly uncomfortable or absolutely turned to loving mush at Kevin's declaration. 

Kevin's sister walks in through the front door with his niece, trailing a fistful of balloons, finally breaking the awkward grasp Jimmy has on your hand.

His niece shoves the balloon strings into Jimmy's hand and he picks her up for a hug before passing her to Kevin's outstretched arms. 

"Remember Y/n?" He turns around so he and his niece are facing you. You wave and she smiles and nods.

"She's aunt Kris' sister and mommy told me not to say she should be your new girlfriend 'accause that's rude." She punctuates her story with a nod, and Kevin kisses her head, hiding his smile in her pigtails.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see her mother facepalm, her father barely staunching a laugh.

Kevin continues, "It wasn't rude, baby. As a matter of fact, I thought it was a great idea so I wanted to thank you for finding her for me." She kisses his scruffy face and smiles wide, squirming until he puts her down on the floor where she can run over to her mom and be picked up again.

"See momma? Uncle Kevin said she's his girlfriend now, so I can say it!" 

You bury your face in Kevin's chest, embarrassed but radiating love from the center of your chest out to the tips of your toes. 

"I'm your girlfriend, Kevin? News to me," you mumble into his Patriots t-shirt as conversation gently resumes around you- his sister, brother-in-law, and niece cooing over the baby on the other side of the room, his parents doing their best to not look like they're eavesdropping. 

"Shut up, you know I'm all yours." He looks like he wants to kiss you, really send the point home, but the room is full and it's certainly the wrong venue, so he ends his admission with a kiss on your forehead. 

Jimmy walks over with the baby over his shoulder, doing his best to burp him. "I'd say welcome to the family, but you're nothing new," he elbows you playfully as he passes. 

Kevin sticks his hand into the back pocket of your jeans and wiggles his way into your heart a little deeper.

[sxfterhearts]

20. [9:40 am]

28A… 29A… Ah, 30A! You thought to yourself as your eyes glanced over the seat numbers slightly above your line of sight, your feet finally coming to a stop beside your reserved seat.

Much to your dismay, it was a window seat, facing in the opposite direction of the train’s movements. It was also one of the few face-to-face seats on the entire KTX train, with a table between the two pairs of seats which were facing each other.

You groaned internally. As much as you liked having a proper surface for writing or doodling in your journal, you didn’t like sharing. You much preferred having your own privacy while glancing out the windows, watching the greenery and the countryside pass by in a colourful blur, with soft tunes to accompany you on your journey. It’s fine, you reminded yourself, trying to stay positive, it’s only two hours, no big deal…

You hauled your backpack over your head and into the overhead compartment with practiced movements. Pulling out your travel necessities, which included your fully-charged phone, a pair of wireless earphones, a large, ice-cold Americano and your trusty journal, you settled into your seat for the rest of the morning. A part of you wished that the seat in front of you wouldn’t be occupied, while another part of you contemplated whether it was better to just try and fall asleep for the remainder of the train ride to Gangneung.

You quickly dismissed the latter thought, as the scenery throughout the train ride was too good to miss. You could deal with a couple of awkward silences and accidental glances with the unlucky stranger who reserved the seat opposite yours. Besides, it was your first time visiting your parents in two months – you weren’t going to let anything sour your mood.

The last-minute trip to Gangneung, your hometown, was planned just two days ago, as you were graciously granted two days of paid leave by your manager. After finally submitting the last tax return for your clients, your manager had treated the entire team to a congratulatory dinner and gave everyone a few days of leave to make up for the never-ending client meetings and late nights spent slaving away at the office desk during the tax busy season. You were overwhelmed with joy once your manager announced the news, pulling her usually stoic self into a tight embrace under the yellow glow of  the pojangmacha, a tent bar selling alcohol and street food, due to the heightened levels of alcohol within your system.

Giggling to yourself at the memory, you reached out for your phone and typed a message to your mother to inform her that you were about to depart Seoul. It was a message that she read and replied immediately with her usual “Be careful, dear, and have a safe journey.”, which you missed dearly during the busy season. On off-periods, you would make the effort to visit your parents once a fortnight. You moved to Seoul for university a few years back and found a job in the bustling city, leaving your parents and the family’s bicycle store behind in the coastal neighbourhood. Sometime in your early twenties, your father experienced a mild health scare and had to close the store during his month-long recovery. This made you realise that as the years went by, your parents were not getting any younger. With that in mind, you tried to clear your hectic schedule to spend as much time with your parents as possible.

“This is the 10:01am number 811 KTX train bound for Gangneung. The train will be departing shortly.”

The familiar female voice flooded the carriages of the train and distracted you from your thoughts. The seat in front of you was still unoccupied. You held on to the tiny glimmer of hope that it would remain that way for the rest of the journey, despite knowing very well that the summer holidays were approaching, turning Gangneung into an ideal weekend getaway for tourists and locals alike. The prospect of spending the next few days basking in the summer sunshine, helping out at the bicycle store and frolicking in the sea excited you to no end. After long hours cooped up in the office, you were looking forward to spending your break in the great outdoors.

“28… 29… 30, 31! Here it is, Mark, 31A and 31B. Dibs the window seat!” A cheerful voice spoke in English, pulling you out of your delightful daydream. Before you could turn your head to face its owner, a bright streak of reflected rainbow dancing across the table caught your eye.

“Okay, Bella,” A deep chuckle originated from the man standing beside your seat. “Wait a sec, pass me your bag, honey.”

Your eyes traced the source of the deep timbre notes of the American-sounding voice. What you found was a man, dressed in an oversized white shirt and black ripped jeans, who was placing the girl’s pink Barbie bag into the overhead compartment. Even though he was wearing a cap, you could make out his cherubic features and the gentle smile he directed towards the girl.

The thought that he was a bit too young to have a daughter crossed your mind for a split second, but you quickly shook it off to return the little girl’s excited smile with a polite wave. She was wearing a cute pink dress and looked to be about six or seven years old. The pair got comfortable in their seats, just as the announcement informed the passengers the doors were closing.

The man sitting diagonally opposite of you took off his cap to reveal a head of blonde hair. He met your gaze, and you watched as a surprised look flashed across his face. As the two of you exchanged polite greetings, you couldn’t shake off the thought that you had seen him somewhere before.

A phone chirped, signalling an incoming call. It was a call for him. He answered it, and you looked out the window to give him some privacy and not seem too nosy. You wracked your brain for answers. Did he work at the café I frequented? Or was it the Chinese restaurant that I ordered takeaways from? No… You mused silently. Maybe he’s the cashier at the convenience store near the apartment… But that doesn’t seem right either. Wait, is he-?

“Bell, your Mummy wants to speak to you.”

“Yes, Mummy! Mark said…”

You drowned out the rest of the conversation to refocus your thinking. You sneaked another glance at the man in question, only to find half of his face covered by his laptop screen as he tapped away furiously. It seems like it’s him… You adjusted your position several times to get a better look at his face without seeming too suspicious. Blonde hair and shiny helix piercing, it must be him.

The person you were referring to was someone you’ve only ever seen from afar. There was usually a safe distance between you two on your morning subway ride to the office, with him leaning casually against a pole and you standing steadily in the middle of the crowd. The closest you’ve been to him was when you were running late, and you happened to share the elevator with a blonde-haired man from the eighth floor of your apartment. He always had the top button of his crisp button-up undone, a tie hanging haphazardly over one shoulder and his headphones sitting snugly atop his blonde head, while munching on a piece of burnt toast. You had never encountered this strange gentleman until mid-May, so you assumed that he had recently moved into the floor below you. The two of you never exchanged words either, as he was always busy shoving down his breakfast, but you would always bow politely to each other. Unbeknownst to him, you were intrigued. Not many office workers were brave enough to sport such a striking hair colour, and you had to admit, it suited him perfectly.

You just never expected him to have a child.

“Mark!” The girl, Bella, whined while grabbing his hand. Your ears were still getting accustomed to hearing English after so long. The last time you were surrounded by native speakers was during your six-month-long secondment to the New York branch of your company. “Do my hair, pretty please! I want two braids.”

The man, Mark, sighed in fake annoyance, playfully poking her cheeks. “Yes, Your Highness. Hand over your other hair tie.” A part of you wasn’t used to how the girl didn’t address him with honorifics, but you busied yourself with your phone, pretending that you weren’t eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I thought you took them for me when we left your house.” She huffed, clearly unsatisfied.

“Nope, I only have one with me.”

Your fingers reached for the simple, black hair tie around your wrist. “Here, you can borrow mine.” Smiling, you handed it over to Bella, who accepted it with a grateful smile.

Mark leaned down to whisper in her ear, unable to hide the surprised smile on his face. “Thank the pretty eonnie in Korean.”

“Thank you, eonnie!” Bella chirped, so excited that she was practically bouncing in her seat.

“You’re most welcome.” You said in perfect English, intrigued at Mark’s earlier interaction with the girl.

He proceeded to divide her hair into two even halves, combing her dark locks with long, thin fingers. Expertly, Mark separated the first half into three parts and began to braid. He stuck out his tongue cutely in concentration, trying his best to not mess up.

“Don’t move so much, Bell.” He scolded lightly when the girl pulled out her colouring book and painted the sky a light shade of blue with large strokes of her coloured pencil.

“You’re pretty good at this. Mark, right?” You commented.

“Yeah, guess it comes with practice. I’m Mark, by the way. We never got to introduce each other properly. Your name is…?”

“Y/N.”

“Ah yes, Y/N. It suits you well. Always so prim and proper in your blazer and kitten heels. I must seem like a fool to you, with my tie undone and all.”

You laughed at his self-deprecating humour. This man is funny, and he can braid hair. His wife sure is a lucky woman, you thought. “No, not at all. Where do you work?”

Light conversation regarding your respective careers ensued. You found out that he was also working at a company close to yours, which explained the frequent encounters on the train. He moved in about a month ago from another side of the city because of his new job. When the conversation about work dwindled, you shifted the topic to the girl.

“How old is she?”

Mark secured the first braid with your hair tie, smiling to himself, satisfied. “Bella, how old are you?”

“I’m six, Mark! How could you forget?” The girl sat up from her position to shoot daggers with her eyes at him.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. Come, turn to the other side so I can finish this up.” He moved her to sit facing the window instead and starting on the second braid. “She’s six,” Mark turned to you and answered with a sheepish expression. Before you started to wonder what kind of father would forget his daughter’s age, he continued, “Bella doesn’t visit very often.”

Your eyebrows quirked upwards in response. Does that mean he was… divorced?

Mark saw your confused expression and hastened to add, “She’s my niece.” You let out a breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding. “My sister and her family came over from LA to visit me.”

It all made sense to you now. “Right…”

“Her parents wanted some alone time so I’m taking her to Gangneung for a day trip cos she wants to visit Jumunjin beach and take some pictures.” He paused, and went on to mouth, “She loves BTS.”

“The bus stop near the beach? The one on their album cover?” You wondered, knowing exactly which photo spot he was referring to. “It’s about a bit of a drive from my parent’s bicycle shop. I took a couple of days off to visit them.”

“You’ve seen the bus stop? That’s so cool!” Bella’s ears perked up.

“Sit still, honey.” Mark reminded sternly as he got closer to the end of the braid.

You nodded eagerly. “Yup! They’ve got a map of a BTS bus route with their album names as the bus stops.”

“Don’t encourage her, Y/N…” Mark groaned as he tied the second braid. He inspected his handiwork and seemed very proud of himself.

“Well, I have a suggestion,” You started carefully. “How about this? I can be your local tour guide for Gangneung today. I can show you the best photo spots, the most popular places to get your daily coffee fix and even get you a discount for bike rentals so you can cycle around the beach and the lake!”

The two of them nodded eagerly at your proposition.

//

It was a long, eventful day. The three of you had visited a hanok café, took way too many pictures at the Jumunjin bus stop and breakwater where they filmed Goblin, dipped your toes in Gyeongpo Beach and cycled around Gyeongpo lake. Your parents had immediately taken a liking to your new friend Mark and his cute niece, even insisting on packing them a container full of kimbap and banana milk for their journey back to Seoul.

“Thank you so, so much for today, Y/N.” Mark whispered as the three of you sat at the train station, waiting for their train. Bella had already dozed off with her head on Mark’s lap. It was an adorable sight. “We both had a lot of fun.”

“Not a problem at all. I enjoyed showing you around and visiting touristy places. I got to see my hometown in a different light.” You faced him, giving him a sincere smile.

He returned you with an equally bright smile that showed off his cute, pointy canines. “Let me take you out for dinner or something. You know, to make it up to you.” Mark’s ears began to heat up and were painted in a faint tinge of red. “Let’s exchange numbers.”

“Sure!” You replied. Was he asking me out on a date? You wondered. “I’ve been craving sticky barbecue ribs since I left the States.”

“I know a good place. How about next Saturday night?”

“I’m free.”

“Great, it’s a date.”

[reidandweep]

I Know Him

Adam Sackler x Reader

A/N- I love Sackler as a character and wanted to write a character more personal to me. I am on the spectrum myself. I know everyone’s autism is different so don’t take this as characteristics or mannerisms of everyone with autism. These are things I have done, or do, or like. Not everyone is the same. I hope you like the story.

Word Count- 4670 words

Warning- Fluff, Angst, mentions of autism, swearing, manipulative behaviour.

If someone had asked Adam how different his life was now to what it was nearly a year ago, he could not explain how much so. He finally felt as though his life was on track. Successfully booking auditions and work, in the past 6 months alone, Adam had worked in two theatre shows, one even being considered to transition onto Broadway. The people around him was different as well. For the better. There was no more Hannah, no more Jessa, or any of their friends. His sister Caroline had arrived back in the picture. With time and patience, Adam and Laird had slowly helped her get back on track. They had all celebrated Sample’s birthday together and Christmas as a mismatched group. 

There were times where he thought he missed Hannah and Jessa, both in different ways, but Adam quickly realised that he missed the physical aspects rather than the relationships he had with them. He was putting himself first for once. It took him a while to get to where he was now, but he had help along the way. Especially from one particular person.

Walking into the diner, Adam gazed over to the empty booth. The diner held patrons here and there. Adam flittered his gaze across the people as he scanned the room. A sudden jerk of movement caught his eye. Turning his gaze to the fourth booth on the right, situated underneath the hand painted letters on the window, Adam saw is usual sight on a Thursday afternoon.  She was what Adam could describe as perfect.

Y/N had no idea of the Adam staring at her. With her headphones on, she faintly rocked back and forth, unaware of the movement she was making. This was an everyday occurrence for her, and the people in the diner. This was her routine every Thursday. Thursday was her favourite day. She wore her favourite colour jumper, her h/c styled in her favourite way, and listened to her favourite music. All whilst sitting in her favourite diner eating her favourite choice of food there. Since moving to NYC, Y/N had followed this routine, only falling out of it when a break occurred. She never referred to them as meltdowns or breakdowns because she did not want it to be viewed as negative. She had been made to feel bad about who she was for a long time; she wasn’t going to let it carry on.

Adam watched on as the woman rocked back and forth, adjusting the large white cabled headphones on her head. Chuckling, he continued to watch until a waitress arrived.

“What can I get you hun?”

Adam pulled his gaze from the woman in the booth before him. Clearing his throat, he quickly scanned the menu. 

“Can I have scrambled eggs, bacon and toast.”

The waitress wrote down Adam’s order.

“Any drinks?”

“A glass of milk.”

The waitress gave Adam a knowing look before writing down his request.

“That’s eggs, bacon, toast, and milk to drink. I’ll bring it right over.”

The waitress walked away from Adam and towards the fourth booth on the right.

Adam continued to watch from his view by the door.

Out the corner of her eye, Y/N saw a manicured hand on the table. Pausing her music, she slowly pulled her headphones off her ears and around her neck.

Quickly glancing up, she smiled at the sight of Paula.

“Good afternoon Y/N.”

“Good afternoon Paula.”

Adam licked his lip at the sound of her voice. He leaned against the pillar; blatantly eavesdropping.

Even though Y/N ordered the same thing every Thursday, Paula still asked her each week. She appreciated that the woman would help with her routine in the smallest ways.

“And what are you having today?”

As always, she looked at the menu to see her order, even though she had ordered it a hundred times before. 

“Can I have the number 16 special please?”

Paula smiled as she wrote down the order in her notebook.

“Coming right up.”

Just as Paula turned to leave, Y/N spoke up once more.

“Is he here yet Paula?”

Paula turned to the young woman and smiled. 

“He’s at the door. Right on time.”

Y/N smiled as she turned in the booth. Her smile growing bigger at the sight of her best friend standing at the door. 

Adam smiled back. Pushing from the pillar, he walked towards the booth and sat across from Y/N.

Her eyes followed him. The grin never once faltered.

Threading his hands through his hair, Adam pushed back his mop of dark locks. 

The pair sat in silence for a moment, choosing to just smile at one another. The silence broke as Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“Afternoon Adam.”

“Hi squirt.”

“So, how did your auditions go?”

Y/N leaned forward, placing her head on her clasped hands as she prepared herself to listen to Adam tell her his day. Like everything else on a Thursday, this was part of her routine. It was one of her favourite parts. She didn’t mind how long they spoke for. She didn’t mind if they spoke so long that her other activities were delayed because she was with Adam; her favourite person in the world.

She could remember the day she met Adam clearer than her most vibrant memories. It was the first time in a long time that Y/N had met someone who didn’t see her for her autism, but for herself. She had just moved to NYC after months of explaining to her mother that it was the perfect time for her to venter away from the comforts of home. New York City had been her dream since she was young, but Y/N feared that they would never become a reality because of the fear that held her back and her comfort in her routine at home. 

Meeting new people was difficult for her. Y/N found eye contact hard, sometimes even reading people’s expressions was a struggle. She would often have to ask someone what they were feeling during a conversation because she was unsure. Public transport was another feat to get over. But she knew if she did not try, then she would never know.

So, she moved to NYC alone. Found an apartment that she was happy with and started to make it feel like a home. The apartment was filled with her comforts. Posters from movies decorated the walls of her bedroom and living room. Along shelves sat books upon books of adaptions of her favourite films. DVD’s scattered the sparse spaces, as well as, collectable figures filled her room; never leaving their boxes but ordered in a way she could tell you what row and column each one was placed.

Her apartment felt like a home away from home. But the only problem seemed to be her neighbour above. At often times she would hear a mixture of noises from the room. They would range from the sound of things breaking to the overlapping of music and wood being sawed to the constant rocking of a bed. After a few weeks, she had enough, and built up the courage to knock on the stranger’s door. Their conversation hadn’t gone well at first.

They had bickered back and forth and as Y/N was about to leave, Adam had reached out to touch her arm to cease her from doing so; not happy with how the conversation would’ve ended. Well, it caused Y/N to have a minor breakdown, which resulted in Adam consoling her by bringing her to the diner. It weirdly did calm her down. Unfamiliar environments usually stressed her out, but the calming aura of the diner and Adam’s genuine remorse and caring actions ceased her breakdown all together. 

That night, they had spent 4 hours and 16 minutes in the diner. She explained to him about her autism and why she reacted the way she did to him touching her arm. Adam, being the forward person that he was, asked all sorts of questions. Y/N asked questions back about why he built at such ungodly hours and smashed things up when he wasn’t building. They both answered truthfully, and for the first time in a long time, Y/N and Adam felt something new and exciting.

The tradition of the diner continued. Nothing could’ve ever change that.

“They said I would hear back in about two weeks, but I don’t know.”

Y/N smiled at Adam, leaning back she sipped at her drink that had arrived as he told her his day. 

“Well, no matter what, you did amazing. From when you were practicing the other day, it sounded phenomenal.”

Adam stared at Y/N after her compliment. He wasn’t used to such words directed towards him. Having someone that truly cared. 

Y/N had grown on Adam the minute they met. He liked that she admitted when she was wrong but never backed down when she was right. He had become used to her routine, noticing how it slowly adjusted to fit him into the activities and moments she recited in her days. As Y/N worked from home, Adam often venture downstairs to her apartment, to keep her company when he was free. Using the time to practice his lines, read, or even just be in her presence. She was there through the rejection and anger. He worried of how she would react when he was angry, but he had found just being with her helped it disappear. 

One particular occasion saw Adam storming into Y/N’s apartment as she just emerged from the shower. Wrapped in just a towel, hair dripping wet, Y/N had no time to feel any discomfort when she saw Adam’s clenched fist and red face. She knew the anger wasn’t directed at her and that he was about to blow; desperately trying hard not to. That’s why he had gone to her apartment; letting himself in with the spare key. He paced the front room. A guttural scream ripping from his throat only to suddenly cease when he felt the sudden presence of a force wrap around his waist.  Adam mind instantly cleared from all traces of negative thoughts and his chest had heaved away the rage and anger. Y/N was touching him. She was hugging him. They stood like that for 23 minutes, in complete silence, taking in the moment. Not once did Adam try to touch her back. He respected that she was stepping so far out of her comfort zone to even touch him. Let alone hold him. He was also aware of her lack of clothing and did not want to make her regret her actions by him acting on impulse.

That night brought them closer. It made Y/N more comfortable around Adam. They now hugged each other in greeting and goodbye. They even sometimes held each other when the other was feeling down or had a bad day. Adam always asked before hugging her, even though Y/N had told him he did not need to. The fact he continued to do so made her cheeks blush every time.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Adam held in his breath. He didn’t want to just blurt anything out. He wanted to think about what he said for once.

“So, we got a number 16 and a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast.”

Paula placed down the plates, smiling at the pair before she wondered away to continue serving.

Y/N smiled in thanks.

Turning back to Adam, she held up a finger.

“Can I wash my hands first? And then you can say what you need.”

Adam nodded her head. He knew if he said no, she would not be comfortable. She always liked to wash them before she touched the utensils.

Y/N thanked him as she walked to the bathroom.

As Adam waited for Y/N, he began to re-arrange her food for her. It had become second nature for him to do this. Taking of the things she didn’t eat and manoeuvring it to his plate, he was unaware of the presence approaching him.

“Adam?”

Adam mumbled under his breath, knowing full well whose voice it was. Putting down his knife and fork, he took in a heavy breath, and turned around.

“The fuck is you doing her Hannah?”

She didn’t look much different from the last time he saw her. Except for the baby bump, which was no longer there. She was alone. No child in sight.

Physically, to Hannah, Adam looked no different either. But there was still something that did not seem the same as before. She just couldn’t figure what.

“I’m here for work. If you’re wondering about the baby-“

“I don’t give a crap.”

“My mother is watching her for me.”

Awkward silence surrounded them. 

“I saw Jessa. She said you guys aren’t together anymore. That she hasn’t seen you in over six months.”

Adam looked down at his food, clenching and unclenching his hands.

He looked back up at Hannah.

“Yeah. I realised that I made bullshit decisions when I was surrounded by bullshit people. Any more questions or is that all? Because I have company.”

Hannah gaped at his words, unsure of how to respond. 

Y/N exited the bathroom, feeling better now that her hands were thoroughly washed. 

Walking up to the table, she saw that Adam was no longer alone. Y/N recognised the woman from pictures she had seen destroyed in Adam’s apartment once. He had been truthful with her. She knew all about Hannah and Jessa. She did not like how they treated Adam. 

Y/N took a deep breath. Seeing that her plate was next to Adam’s, her cheeks warmed up at his thoughtfulness. Y/N began to walk back to her seat.

“Excuse me.”

Hannah flicker her head to the interrupting voice. Y/N flittered her eyes around Hannah, trying to keep calm. Hannah stepped back, thinking the woman would merely walk past her and to another table. Shocked enveloped Hannah when Y/N sat down across from Adam.

As Y/N did with most occasions, she blocked out her surroundings. She didn’t like talking to people if she did not need to; especially strangers. 

“Can I have my plate please?”

Adam re-directed his glare from Hannah. The harsh look softened as he quickly finished swapping their food, passing Y/N her plate once it was done.

“Thanks Adam.”

Hannah watched silently as Y/N grabbed the jug of milk in the middle of the table, and refilled Adam’s cup.

Adam knew Y/N would not eat until Hannah left. It had taken the girl ages before she ate in front of him. The first time they came to the diner, she sipped a glass of Coke the whole time.

“Like I said, I have company.”

Hannah looked at Adam in disbelief. Her gaze flickered over to Y/N seeing that the woman was tense. Hannah was angry. Angry at Adam. At the woman sitting across from him. At the fact that he looked at her with a different intensity that he had looked at even her or Jessa.

“He’s not who he pretends to be. Whatever perfect image he’s made of himself isn’t true.”

Adam sneered at Hannah.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Hannah glared right back at the brooding man. Why the fuck was he allowed to act like this after all he had put her through?

Hannah turned towards Y/N; her arms tightly crossed in front of her. Y/N refused to look Hannah’s way. Her hands tinkering and moving things on the table until she was happy how it looked. It pissed Hannah off that she did not look her way.

“You know he fucked my best friend. Then when he found out I was pregnant with another guys baby; he dropped her and came running back to me to play house.”

Y/N looked towards Adam. She knew everything. Adam was an honest person. He had told her every single detail about his relationship with Hannah and with Jessa. It took her a few days to talk to him again because she felt so overwhelmed by the information. She thought at first it was because she had never had someone tell her so much about themselves; that she could not stomach some of the events that he had been a part of. But Y/N soon realised that it was because she was in some ways jealous that these two women had such an intimate relationship with Adam; one that she wanted in her own way. Hearing Hannah talk about it confirmed the thought even more. It also confirmed the fact the she did not like Hannah. Whilst Adam was not a saint in his actions either, and Y/N had told him this, he did not deserve the crap he had endured.

“He’s just going to make it out like he’s in whatever kind of relationship you have 100% but he’s not. He will drop you the instant he finds something that he thinks is better. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has already found someone else by now.”

Adam slammed his hand on the table and stood up. His face was bright red, surging from anger, as he strode towards Hannah. Pointing his finger in Hannah’s face, Adam had not felt this angry since he had last seen Jessa.

“I said, shut the fuck up Hannah. Why the fuck is you trying to ruin shit for me? I finally have my shit together and you come in here and try to manipulate the past. Trying to make the one person I care about turn against me. You have a new life. So, why the fuck are you trying to ruin mine?”

The diner was silent. Never had any of the regular customers or workers seen Adam in such a state. Paula glanced across the counter at Y/N, noticing that the girl was visibly shaking from the situation. Y/N tried to regulate her breathing, but it was becoming difficult. The young woman began to rock back and forth, her hands pulling furiously at her wristband; the plastic flicking continuously against her wrist. She felt helpless. Paula knew what to do to help.

Just before Hannah could spit anymore venomous words, Paula cut in.

“Adam. She’s closing.”

Hannah looked at Paula in confusion at her words. However, it was soon replaced with shock as in a flash Adam had steered from leering into Hannah to standing in front of Y/N.

Crouching in front of Y/N, Adam instructed her to breathe deeply in and out.

“Come on squirt, move yourself to face me and copy my breathing, alright?”

Y/N did as Adam instructed. Slowly, she moved her body to Adam’s direction.  Adam slowly cupper her face with his hands, looking for any signs that she did not consent to what he was doing. His thumb stroked her cheek as he guided her to slow down her breathing. Y/N focused on his breathes listening to his words of encouragement. The pair were in their own world, unaware of the continuous stares of the patrons and Hannah. The locals of the diner knew Y/N and Adam enough to have seen this happen once or twice before when Y/N felt overwhelmed or stressed or was just not having a good day.

Y/N hated calling the breakdowns or meltdowns; she always referred to them as closing. Because when she felt better, she always opened back up. When Adam first experienced her closing, he felt helpless, and he hated that he had no way to comfort her how she needed. So, with a lot of research and talking to Y/N herself, over the months they had known each other, it had become second nature for Adam to help her out when she was closing. Y/N’s instinct had become to contact Adam if she was alone and felt like she was going to close. He was always there as soon as he could. He had never let her down.

Adam watched as Y/N’s breathing slowed down and the vigorous rocking of her body subsided to being considered a slight sway.

“You’re doing fucking great squirt. Now tell me about our day. What film are we watching tonight?”

Y/N briefly looked up at Adam. In her peripheral vision, she could see Hannah and other people looking. It wasn’t as many as before, but the beading eyes of the woman standing behind Adam made her breathing begin to pick up again. She definitely did not like Hannah.

“Look at me.”

Y/N looked back at Adam. Her eyes flittering across the beauty marks on his face. 

“Our day. What does it look like?”

Adam’s hands travelled from her face to rest palms up on her knees, inviting her to hold his hands to stop the plucking of her wristband. Her wrist was welted and red raw. She accepted the invitation, delicately drawing shapes on his palms.

“We are going to kindly ask Paula to put our food in some containers. We are going to go back home…”

Adam could not help the smile on his face as she referred to the going home instead of naming one of their apartments.

Hannah didn’t miss the look on his face either; or Y/N’s words.

“We have to watch a Marvel movie because your auditions went well. We watched Spiderman Homecoming last time, so Thor Ragnarök is next. Then its your turn to pick what we do to finish our day because I picked the movie.”

Adam chuckled.

“Okay that’s the plan. Let’s go and do that.”

Adam stood up from his crouched position. As he turned to call Paula, he realised that Hannah was still standing there. Behind him, Y/N began to put on her coat. Packing her bag with the things she had laid on the table before Adam came.

Adam slowly walked to stand in front of Hannah, watching as the woman looked towards Y/N in disbelief and anger.

“Why did you never care for me like that? Why her?”

Adam threaded his hand through his hair, keeping down his frustration.

“I did Hannah. You were the one that never cared to notice. You never cared back. Neither did Jessa. I always give 100% no matter what. Even when people only gave 20%. Now I have someone in my life who gives 100% back and were not even fucking together. So, imagine if we were? I’d give her everything and more. And you know what?”

Hannah looked at Adam, tears in her eyes, in silence.

“I know she would give me everything back to.”

Adam stepped around Hannah to grab the takeout boxes from Paula. Thanking the waitress, Adam pulled out his wallet, paying her for the meal and leaving his 50% tip as usual. 

Walking back around Hannah, Adam walked towards Y/N. Seeing that she was ready to go, he hastily packed up their food. Once he was done, Adam allowed Y/N to lead them outside the diner. 

Closing the door behind them, the pair began to walk in silence, in the direction of their apartment. They hadn’t got far before her voice was heard once again.

“You don’t know him like I did. Like I do. Once you found out all the fucked-up shit that he was into and done, you would leave in a second. You’re a fucked-up person Adam. Acting like you care because you helped her out of a panic attack. We all fucking get them. It doesn’t mean you actually care.”

Adam whipped around, ready to give Hannah another mouthful. But before he could step any further, a grip on his arm held him back. 

“I know Adam.”

Adam looked behind him at towards Y/N.

“I know trivial things about him that you and many others probably do. Like his love for milk, or his outlet with carpentry, or that he likes to read. But I also know things about him that he doesn’t realise. Like how he has 26 beauty marks on his face. Or that even though he calls romance movies fabricated and full of bullshit, he will still smile when they get their happy ending. I know his favourite colour, his least favourite colour, how he recites monologues he’s learning under his breathe when he is busy with everyday activities. How he has changed his running times in the morning so he arrives back half an hour after I wake up so we can have breakfast together. I also know that in my entire life, I have never cared about someone as much as I do for Adam Sackler. I might not know what he looks like or sounds like when he cums. Or what kinky shit he likes in bed. Or even all of the little details of the drama between you, him, and Jessa; whilst by the way I do know at least 99% of it.”

Hannah’s mouth opened and closed in silence. Adam looked at Y/N in bewilderment and awe.

“But what I know is that, even if everything you said was true, I don’t care. Because I care about him more.”

Sliding her hand down from Adam’s arm, to his hand, Y/N linked their digits together.

“It was lovely meeting you Hannah; but we have a movie to watch.”

Turning around, Y/N pulled Adam in the direction of their apartments. Their hands held tightly together. Hannah did not follow.

They walked in silence the whole way back. Y/N’s thoughts set on the rest of their day, already pushing the encounter with Hannah into the back of her mind. Adam’s own thoughts clouded with the woman holding his hand. He stared as she ascended the stairs. He stared as she opened the door to her apartment, pulling him inside. He continued to stare as she kicked off her shoes and threw her bag and coat on the sofa, moving around the apartment to set up their movie night. 

“Can you pass me our food Adam so I can reheat them in the microwave?”

Y/N waited for the reply but never got one. Walking back through her apartment, she saw Adam still in the doorway.

“Are you okay?”

Adam shut the door behind him and walked towards her. Handing over the food, he watched as Y/N busied herself in re-heating it up. Moving to the sofa, Adam pulled off his shoes and got comfortable, waiting for Y/N to return before he hit play. Once she arrived back with their plates of food, Y/N situated herself in her area on the floor, where she always sat to eat. Placing a glass of water in front of her and another glass of milk in front of Adam, she smiled as he said thank you. Gesturing to begin the movie, Y/N began to eat. 

As the movie played in the background, Adam looked at the woman in front of him. He knew trivial things about her that many others probably did. Like her love for Dr Pepper, or her love for anything Disney, or that she loves to read. But he also knew things about her that she didn’t realise. Like how she always sat closer to the window because Adam hated the draft it created. Or that even though she loved superhero movies, she still preferred romance because she loves love; even though she had terrible examples of it around her growing up. He knows her favourite colour, her least favourite colour, how she likes her set routine and how it differentiates when he suddenly wants to spend time with her. How she has changed what she makes for breakfast so that Adam is always full after his run. He also knows that he was kidding himself when he thought he had felt strongly for Hannah and Jessa because he feels so much more now. He might not know what she looks like or sounds like when she cums. Or what kinky shit she likes in bed; though he wishes he did. Or even all of the little details of her life before knowing him. But what he does know is that he is in love with her and that she feels something for him too.

[lloydskywalkers]

skywalker syndrome, pt. III

so!! in honor of being shut up inside under pseudo-quarantine in this wonderful day and age, here is an extra-long fic for you guys just because :D

(fiNE it would’ve been this long either way but i have somewhat of an excuse now)

anyways here’s the final part of skywalker syndrome, featuring things actually Getting Better for once! (and on that note i hope you’re all doing alright and keeping safe <3)

So, Lloyd decides later. He probably could’ve handled that better.

But you know what, everyone’s been telling him to open up about stuff. It’s not his fault all that stuff is ugly, and maybe explodes half the power lines on the block.

Lloyd bites his lip harder, and squeezes his eyes shut tight enough to force the welling moisture back. His eyes are sore and puffy enough already, and his head feels like it’s over-stuffed with cotton and ready to explode. More tears are the last thing he needs.

On top of like, everything else. Because not only does Sensei Wu now know that the person who chopped Lloyd’s arm off was, in fact, Lloyd himself, but he’s probably going to tell everyone else that little detail too, and then all of them are going to think Lloyd’s head is — is out of place, except for maybe Nya, until she hears from Sensei Wu about his complete meltdown, and then Lloyd’s going to lose everyone.

Lloyd’s chest hitches. He forces back the wave of nausea, and makes himself look at this analytically. On one hand, it’s a total betrayal that stings maybe a little more than it might have any other time, because he’s been getting hit with a lot of betrayals lately. And while it isn’t exactly unusual in their line of work, it does feel like a little more than usual this month in particular.

On the other hand — which is metal ‘cause it’s Lloyd’s, heh — there’s absolutely nothing left of Lloyd’s respect in the world to stop him from blaring N-pop as loud as his headphones will go while lying at the edge of the roof of their apartment, staring blankly into the nothingness of the night sky as he ignores the drying damp streaks all over his face, instead of going to evening practice like he’s supposed to. So at least that’s a plus.

But on — well, he guesses he needs someone else’s hand, now — he really should have known better than to assume he’d get away with that.

He manages to hear Kai before he sees him, but it’s a near thing. Kai’s footsteps are quiet even when he’s not trying to be, like the rest of them, and even now that Lloyd’s playlist has mellowed off into something quieter and instrumental, he almost misses him closing the rooftop door.

But then Kai comes and sits next to him, right near where Lloyd’s head is lying, and that’s impossible to miss. So Lloyd sucks in a bracing breath and tugs his headphones off, dully figuring that the only way he’s escaping this confrontation is to throw himself off the roof. Which, while admittedly kind of tempting, will probably only make Kai more concerned, and Lloyd’s been doing that enough lately.

He tilts his head, peaking at Kai from the corner of his eyes. Kai’s expression is unreadable, his eyes far away where they fix on the city vista. Lloyd bites his lip. He wants to hold out, to let Kai do the talking — but the anxiety churning in his gut becomes unbearable, so he ends up cracking first.

“Hi,” he croaks, painfully aware of how water-logged his voice still sounds. “I guess you saw the lights go nuclear, then.”

Kai gives a quiet snort. “Kinda hard to miss, bud.”

Lloyd winces, then sneaks another tentative glance at him. He doesn’t look like he thinks Lloyd’s crazy, but Lloyd also has zero luck whatsoever, so he’s not quite letting his guard down yet. “Yeah,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut tight. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t need to apologize. S’fine with me,” Kai shrugs, like Lloyd didn’t just knock out all the power in their apartment. “Makes things exciting every once in a while, you know?”

“Ha,” Lloyd breathes. “Exciting.”

“Mm-hm,” Kai says, swinging a leg over the edge of the roof, his eyes still on the horizon. Lloyd shifts his head on the paved rooftop, watching as Kai’s leg sways back and forth over the dim city streets below.

“Not as exciting as your conversation with Sensei must’ve been, though.”

Lloyd’s stomach bottoms out, and he goes rigid, before swiftly sitting up. “Y-you heard that?” he manages to squeak out.

Kai shakes his head. “Not all of it. Mostly just raised voices. No one wanted to eavesdrop, or anything.”

Lloyd worries his lip more, feeling sick. That’s not the answer he’s looking for. “But you heard some of it.”

Kai exhales slowly, his shoulders slumping. He finally tears his gaze from the horizon, and faces him. Lloyd wants to duck away, but there’s no recrimination in Kai’s eyes. Just a whole lot of empathy, and doesn’t that make Lloyd want to start crying again.

“Yeah,” he finally sighs. “I heard enough.”

Lloyd bites his lip harder, and turns back to stare across the city, his eyes watering. “Oh,” he breathes.

Because — what else is he supposed to say? Kai, his big brother, who’s always been solid and steady, who’s always followed (well, mostly, but that one time was also Lloyd’s fault) him faithfully — Kai, who works so hard to keep them safe, and has literally bled for this job, got to hear Lloyd screaming about how much he hates being the Green Ninja, the team leader, like a selfish, ungrateful brat.

Kai, who wanted to be the Green Ninja enough to risk his life for it — who probably still wants to be the Green Ninja, somewhere in him, if Lloyd hasn’t totally soured the taste of it by now.

“I didn’t — I didn’t mean—” Lloyd stutters over the words, almost frantically. He’s breathing too fast, talking too fast, but he’s got to — he needs to make Kai understand. “I didn’t really — I love this team, Kai, I do, I love being the Green Ninja, it just — sometimes — and he — he went and—”

“Lloyd — Lloyd, breathe. C’mon, breathe with me.”

Kai’s hands are steady and grounding on his shoulders, even as Lloyd gasps desperately for air, desperately forcing his nerves back under control before the city gets another unexpected power outage.

Finally, Lloyd manages to match his breathing to Kai’s, slow and steady, until the world stops spinning quite as much. He gives a shuddering exhale, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

“T-thanks,” he mutters.

Kai stares at him in concern, his eyes darker than usual in the night around them. He draws back a bit, blowing his breath out. Then, laying a hand on Lloyd’s good shoulder, he jerks his head back toward the rooftop exit. “Wanna make hot chocolate?”

Kai, as usual, always knows exactly what to say.

Lloyd nods fervently, following him back down inside with little hesitation. Their apartment’s quiet by now, mostly dark save for the moonlight, as everyone’s probably gone to bed. Lloyd can’t help but be overwhelmingly thankful for this.

The hallway floor they walk across is clean, too, even if the light sockets above are all empty. Someone must’ve swept the glass up, Lloyd thinks with a hot flash of guilt. Kai jabs at the kitchen switch as they leave the hall, and the lights flicker on, leaving Lloyd to blink in confusion.

“Emergency lightbulbs,” Kai says in explanation, with a faint, wry smile. “Zane’s been prepared. We’ve got a backup generator, too.”

“Oh,” Lloyd breathes, his face heating as he lets himself sink into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Well, it’s not like Zane was wrong. Having spare lightbulbs around is probably something Lloyd should start considering anyways, but he’s been thinking he wouldn’t need to worry about that anymore, since his powers were—

Well. ‘Were’ is the key word here. His powers were under control. They’re pretty glaringly not now.

The microwave goes off with a sharp ding, and Lloyd almost jumps from his skin before placing the sound. Kai is pulling two mugs from the microwave, before dumping the little hot chocolate packets in them. Despite himself, Lloyd wrinkles his nose.

“You make hot chocolate like a heathen.”

Kai scoffs quietly. “I make hot chocolate fast. No one’s got time to wait on a kettle. Besides,” he adds. “You’re one to talk. I know this is how you make tea when Sensei’s not around.”

Kai immediately winces at the mention, clearly regretting having brought Wu up. Lloyd’s shoulders tighten, but he forces himself to relax, exhaling slowly through his nose. It’s been long enough since the…argument…that most of his fiery anger has cooled into an aching ball of hurt instead. Which is typical, Lloyd’s garbage at staying that angry for very long, and normally he wishes he was better at it, but now…

There’s a fine thread of shame creeping in there as well, and maybe a little bit of guilt. And Lloyd’s already seen what his anger does. Maybe he can just hold a quiet grudge for a bit, and that’ll make his point.

“Peppermint tea tastes better in the microwave,” Lloyd finally replies, a little sullenly.

Kai snorts. “Zane would be horrified with you.”

“I’m sure he would,” Lloyd says, but the words are too heavy for it to come off like he wanted. Zane would be horrified at him, but not for his tea crimes. Lloyd’s still surprised Kai isn’t horrified at him. Maybe he is, and he’s just biding his time to accuse him, and any minute now—

“Is your arm hurting?”

Lloyd blinks, reorienting himself. “Huh?”

Kai nods his head toward him, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Belatedly, Lloyd realizes that he’s been digging his fingers into the groove where the prosthetic connects to his arm, clinging tightly enough that the scarring around it twists. Oh, he thinks blankly. So that’s why it’s starting to ache worse.

Lloyd gingerly peels his fingers from here they’re locked around his arm, wincing as he does. “A-a bit,” he admits. “I probably just made it worse. But uh, hey, I know it definitely works with my powers, now…?”

Kai doesn’t look amused. Lloyd lets his head hang, staring at the ground. He hates this. Normally he’s completely in synch with Kai, to the point where he knows exactly what’s going through his big brother’s head. But right now, uncharacteristically quiet and subdued as Kai is, Lloyd has no idea what the emotion brewing in his eyes might be.

There’s a quiet screech of wood across the floor, and Lloyd looks up to Kai dragging his chair closer, before setting both mugs of hot chocolate on the table in front of them.

“Can I see?” Kai asks, hesitantly. Lloyd pauses for a beat as the question registers, and Kai wrings the edge of one hand with the other. “I just, y’know…heat? It helps, sometimes, with other stuff, so maybe…”

“Oh,” Lloyd blinks. “Oh! Y-yeah, of course.”

Relief flashes across Kai’s face, which Lloyd vaguely notes as weird, before he adjusts his chair again, fingers carefully skirting the raised area of Lloyd’s t-shirt, where the metal edge of his prosthetic is. Lloyd suddenly wants to make another pun, because the silence is a tad too thick, and Kai’s so awfully subdued about everything. And whether he thinks Lloyd’s just an ungrateful brat who’s lost the last of his sanity and should never, ever lead them again or not, Lloyd needs to see something in his expression other than this — this sad kind of hesitance, because it’s not Kai. If he was even yelling at him, that would at least be—

“Let me know if it hurts at all,” Kai murmurs, and Lloyd is vividly reminded of Jay, when he’d looked at his arm. It’s the same tone of voice, all quiet and hesitant like they’re afraid Lloyd’s going to break.

Lloyd doesn’t know if it makes it any better, them thinking he hasn’t already. He’s not sure he even wants to know.

Another beat passes with Kai still unmoving, and Lloyd’s about to grasp at the weakest of puns he’s got before his hands finally knead into the tight muscles of his shoulder, starting high then moving lower, drifting carefully toward the edge of the prosthetic.

Kai lays a gentle hand on the juncture where skin meets metal, and Lloyd feels the slow increase of heat before it settles on something that’s not too hot to burn, but definitely warm. The warmth spreads steadily through the rest of his arm and shoulder, heating the tense muscles in Lloyd’s shoulder, and he feels the rigidness there finally, truly relax, in a way it hasn’t in — well, since he’d lost his arm, probably.

It’s like his shoulders are getting heavier and lighter at the same time, and oh, Lloyd’s forgotten how good Kai was at this. He’s still painfully cautious around the prosthetic, though, and the silence isn’t — it isn’t uncomfortable, per say, but Lloyd knows there’s so much Kai’s thinking but not saying, and he wants to hear it. It’s almost stressing him out, actually. He wants to say something — but Kai’s hand on his shoulder is warm, and slowly but surely that warmth reaches the terrible ache that’s been lingering where the prosthetic connects for so long, and Lloyd almost weeps in relief as the pain ebbs.

“H—they really did a number on you, huh,” Kai hisses sympathetically, as his hand skims the raised, jagged lines of scarring.

Lloyd gives a boneless little shrug, trying to force back anxiety as Kai reminds him of the somewhat important fact that he doesn’t quite know who actually did a number on him. “It’s not that bad,” he mutters. “No need to get so up in arms about it.” There. Finally, a decent pun.

Kai seems to disagree, but the odd coughing noise he makes is close enough to a laugh. “Good to know your sense of humor died when we got yanked out of the realm.”

Against his will, Lloyd’s shoulders stiffen, and his breath hitches. He immediately curses himself, because it was a joke. Kai was just responding to Lloyd’s own horrible pun, and just because he used the word died doesn’t mean he has any idea why that might set Lloyd off, because he was gone before he saw Lloyd crumple to his knees on the sky tram, and he has no idea how loud Nya screamed when she’d heard the news, and he will never know how close Lloyd was to letting himself sink in the river instead and not coming back up, because Kai is tired and hollow-eyed and stressed enough, and Lloyd will not let himself become any more of a burden to him when—

“—Lloyd please, what did I say, come back—”

“Fine!” Lloyd gasps, jerking back from where Kai’s appeared in his face, his eyes wide and frightened. “Fine, I’m fine, I’m sorry, I just—”

Kai doesn’t even have to say anything. He just looks at him, and Lloyd’s words die in his throat. He buries his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, staring at the floor through his fingers.

Kai is quiet for another minute, then— “You’re really not fooling anyone, you know.”

Lloyd closes his eyes. “Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” Kai nods. “You’re giving it your best shot, I’ll give you that. But you’re really not okay, Lloyd.”

“I am,” he says, but it’s wavering.

“Lloyd.” Kai’s tone is just a little too serious, shot with the undercurrent of ‘you’re lying to me right now, and I know it, don’t make me call you out on it’. It makes Lloyd’s stomach twist, because he definitely does not want to talk about it, at all, but also—

Kai was dead. Maybe not for real dead, but Lloyd had thought he was, and that had done — that had done some really bad stuff to his overall emotional state. So hearing that familiar concern now, when he’d recently convinced himself that he’d never hear it again, is a clear sign that this particular conversation isn’t going to end well.

“It’s okay if you’re not alright,” Kai says gently, and oh no, Lloyd’s really going to cry again. “You don’t have to be.”

Cycling through his available role models for defense mechanisms, Lloyd settles on Jay for some reason, and responds with utterly unconvincing babbling. “Well, I mean, I kind of can’t be alright, because, you know, my right arm’s gone—”

Kai chokes, and Lloyd breathes out a laugh. He’s thinking he can just get all the building feelings out that way, but he’s wrong, because two seconds into the laugh it turns into crying instead.

“M’sorry,” he moans, digging the heels of his palms into his welling eyes. “I just — give me a m-minute, I’ll—” his voice cracks traitorously. “I’ll get it together, promise—”

Lloyd grabs for his mug in desperation, hiding his face as he gulps at it — only to choke on how cold the hot chocolate’s gotten.

Kai gives an aggrieved sigh, tugging the mug from Lloyd’s hands and wrapping his own around it where he holds it close to his chest, slowly re-heating it. He stares at the mug for a beat, then looks back to Lloyd, a dangerous kind of fire in his eyes.

“I told you I’d kill him for doing that to you,” he says, his voice deadly low. “I still mean it.”

Lloyd blinks. It takes him a minute, but then—

Oh. Oh, no. Lloyd feels sick. Kai’s given him a way out — he’s given him a perfect way out. But he can’t keep lying to his brother forever.

“I cut it off myself,” he blurts, rushed and out of breathe. “It-it wasn’t my dad. It was me. I cut it off.”

Kai drops the mug. He barely catches it in time, setting it down with a painful, halting slowness on the table. He stares at Lloyd, his mouth opening and closing.

“What?”

“There was a snake,” Lloyd says, and he’s talking too fast now, everything spilling out like a busted dam. “I don’t — I don’t know where from but it — it was like the one that bit my dad, you know? And I was — I was doing fine, I was fine, without my powers and everything, but I was so stupid, Kai, I wasn’t looking and it — it got me, and I—”

He sucks in breath almost desperately, forcing himself to calm down again. Kai is staring at him with wide eyes, his face terribly pale, but he isn’t running away yet. Lloyd still has a chance.

“I would’ve been like him. And I couldn’t,” he continues, fiercely. “I couldn’t turn into him, I wouldn’t. I’m not my dad, so I chose not to be, and I don’t — I don’t regret it.”

There’s really nothing more that he can say, to try and explain it to Kai, other than give him the whole rundown of depressing events, so he falls silent, his words echoing in the quiet of the kitchen.

“I’m sorry.”

Kai’s voice is ragged, cracking in the middle, and Lloyd is horrified to hear the wet, sniffled edge.

“What?” Lloyd blinks, taken aback. “No, Kai, this was definitely was my fault—”

“No,” Kai shakes his head, and Lloyd is even further horrified to see the sheen of water building at the edges of his eyes. Kai bites his lip hard enough to bleed, before continuing. “No, that’s not it. I’m sorry, Lloyd. I’m so sorry, I keep — I keep promising I’ll protect you, and I fail, every single time—”

“Kai, no,” Lloyd gapes at him. “No, you don’t. It’s not your fault this keeps happening, you try harder than anyone, and you — you always come through when it matters, you have no idea—”

“No!” Kai snaps, his head whipping up, his eyes wild. “You have no idea! You don’t know, Lloyd, you don’t even know how bad I messed up, when you needed — you don’t know—”

Kai hiccups on a sob, squeezing his eyes shut tight and tilting his head back, like he can physically stop himself from crying that way. “You don’t know. You— you’re what’s important, you and Nya and the guys, and I — Lloyd, I’m sorry—”

Lloyd stares at Kai, his mouth slightly agape. Kai’s trying, he’s trying so hard to stop it, but he’s doing about a good a job as Lloyd’s been at hiding his tears, which is…pretty terrible. And that’s — Kai is crying. Sure, Kai’s emotional, but he doesn’t — he doesn’t let himself cry, certainly not in front of Lloyd. He’s got this annoying thing about always seeming strong, but now he’s apparently run out of strength to keep it up, which kind of just feels like Lloyd’s shoved his heart into blender and hit go, and—

And Lloyd’s just staring at him, like a useless lump. FSM, he’s the worst little brother ever.

Lloyd snaps back into it, immediately crossing the distance that’s left between him and Kai, wrapping his arms around his brother’s middle and comforting him in the only way he’s got left — clinging to him as tightly as he can, like he can squeeze all the sadness out of him or absorb it like osmosis, or something, anything to help Kai like he always helps Lloyd, because—

Oh.

Lloyd speaks up quietly. “You’re really not okay either, Kai.”

Kai gives an awful, half-sobbing laugh. “You don’t say.” He digs his fingers tighter into his hair, eyes squeezing tight, and swears. “—so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall apart like — like—”

Lloyd gently tugs his hands away before he can tear his hair out, and wraps his metal arm around Kai’s shoulder, hoping it’s not painful. “It’s okay,” he tells him. “It’s okay, I promise. It’s okay if you’re not alright, either. It’s not fair to you. Stop holding yourself to some — some impossibly high level, Kai, it’s okay.”

“It’s not—”

“It is. I promise.” Then, exhaling shakily— “I’m sorry I scared you. Both back then, and now. I’m going to be better about that. I’m gonna be stronger.”

Kai gives a watery laugh. “Please. You’re the strongest person I know,” he says, thickly. “You cut off your own arm. How am I ever supposed to top that?”

Lloyd snorts wetly. “Please don’t ever try to,” he says, his voice clogged. “It sucks.”

Kai just gives a choking kind of laugh, before dropping his head onto Lloyd’s shoulder weakly, his breath shuddering out. Lloyd holds him best he can, trying to channel whatever Kai-ness he can into it, because that’s normally what works best on Lloyd.

When the…situations are reversed. Which is…a lot.

But Lloyd can do his part now, hugging Kai as tightly as he can, like it’ll put him back together and keep him there, all the pieces of his big brother that make up one of the strongest people on earth he knows. Like it’ll glue them both back together, somehow, like it’ll fix Lloyd’s arm and Kai’s heart and the whole team and the city and the now-icy cold hot chocolate Lloyd is going to wish he’d gotten to drink later.

Lloyd knows the chances are slim. But for now, at least they can pretend.

And who knows. Maybe it’ll — maybe this will help. Maybe they can duct tape themselves better after this. Who knows.

He got Kai back from the dead. Lloyd’s down for anything — anything — to make sure he stays fine the rest of his life.

************************  

Lloyd never does find out exactly what Kai was trying to apologize for that night. But he’s got a fairly good idea he knows what it is already, and voicing it isn’t gonna help.

But even though they ended up staying up way too late, missed practice the next morning, and totally ruined the hot chocolate with how many times they tried to reheat it, Lloyd thinks it might have worked, a little bit.

He doesn’t feel great about the whole situation with his uncle — pretty awful, actually. Sensei’s been avoiding him now, which works out okay, because Lloyd’s avoiding him, and he’s not sure if this is a good sign or a bad one. But…he feels better, on the whole, than he did. A lot less like his head is coming unscrewed, because if he’s got Nya and Kai sticking by him now, even after everything, then it’s not as hard to believe the rest of the team will, too.

Lloyd’s aware that this is a bad mindset to keep, because it’s not like — it’s not like they’re choosing sides, or anything. He’s not about to start a one-man-war on Sensei Wu just ‘cause he went behind Lloyd’s back and yanked the choice right out of his hands like every other choice his family’s yanked from him, but — but Lloyd’s not Garmadon.

He’s Lloyd, and Lloyd doesn’t storm off to the Underworld or level half the city when things get rough. He sticks it out, because he’s not a venom-devoured drama queen. He made sure of that.

(He doesn’t blow up any palaces or terrorize villages either, or say, wake the dead, because while his coping methods might not be great, at least murder isn’t his go-to resort.)

He does, however, skip practice again, which is quickly becoming an awful habit. But his arm hurts this morning, a bit more than usual because he slept on it wrong, and the idea of getting his butt handed to him in practice over and over again because of it is almost enough to make Lloyd tear up in humiliation all over his cereal.

But he doesn’t, because he’s done crying. He’s done being pathetic and — and a dead weight, and a poor excuse of a leader.

He’s also, like, really done being this dehydrated all the time. It sucks. He’d forgotten the killer headaches it leaves you with.

So Lloyd ignores the alarm going off on his watch and shoves another spoonful of cereal into his mouth instead, flexing his grip around the pencil he’s doodling over the latest headlines with. He immediately wishes he’d taken the grocery run last evening instead of Zane, because the health cereal he’s picked for them is disgusting, where’s the chocolate—

“Hey, Lloyd.”

Cole’s voice shouldn’t be a surprise, because it’s Cole, non-threat — but it’s been quiet in the apartment this morning, and Lloyd almost has a heart attack on the spot. Instead, he promptly chokes on his cereal, and spends the next half-minute hacking it up and coughing milk from his nose.

“Are you dying?” Cole asks, now standing in front of him, sounding mildly concerned.

“I’m alive,” he wheezes, wiping at his face. “Mos’ly.”

Cole’s lips quirk up in amusement, but he quickly smooths the expression out, nodding at him.

“You busy?”

Lloyd glances at his half-eaten bowl of cereal, then at the half-completed dragon he’d been sketching on the edges of the newspaper, another idea for his arm. “Not really…?”

“Good,” Cole says briskly, tossing his green hoodie toward him. Lloyd yelps, barely managing to catch it with before the jacket meets a soggy fate in his cereal bowl. “Let’s go out, then.”

“Go out — what? Wait Cole, I don’t — Cole!”

Lloyd finally scrambles after his brother, catching him as he swings the door open, half-tangled in his jacket as the right sleeve catches on his prosthetic. “Where are we—” He tugs in frustration at the sleeve. “—going, you’re supposed to be—” Another vicious yank. “—at practice right now.”

“And you’re not?” Cole sounds amused, though, and Lloyd glares at him, one arm pinned behind him by a sleeve, his other arm twisted somewhere over his head, tangled hopelessly in the other sleeve.

Cole bites his lip, an obviously large grin threatening to break out across his face. “Do you need help?”

“Yes,” Lloyd grinds out, his cheeks flaming.

Cole fails at holding back the snicker this time, but Lloyd can forgive it for now, since he also takes pity, untangling Lloyd from his sweatshirt prison. Once Lloyd’s finally figured out how to get his sleeve over the prosthetic — and man, the temptation to hack all the right sleeves off of everything he owns is getting stronger by the day — he follows Cole out their apartment complex, heading off to…wherever, Cole is taking him.

“Out,” Cole shrugs, as they carefully step over another Colossi-sized hole in the street, maneuvering past the chunks of concrete the workers still haven’t cleaned up.

“Yeah, that’s specific,” Lloyd mutters, ducking his head and pulling his hood further over his face as they pass by other pedestrians.

Cole’s got his hood up as well, but he’s always stood out a little more than Lloyd. A little (lot) taller than Lloyd, too, so they still get a few curious looks. Not as many as he’s been used to, though, when he was running around in the blazoned green Resistance gi all the time, so Lloyd will take what he can get.

He’s had enough pitying looks to last him a lifetime, and that was before he showed up on primetime Ninjago City television.

“You’ve been cooped up too long,” Cole says, eyeing him. “You gotta stop hiding away, get back out in the world.”

Lloyd bristles. “I went to the gas station with Kai just the other night!”

“Yeah, at two a.m.” Cole sighs — then yelps as he nearly runs face-first into a broken street light, still dangling by the slimmest of twisted metal. Lloyd breaks into snickers at his expression, and Cole makes a face at him.

“My point is, the city’s not on fire anymore,” Cole continues, and Lloyd’s stomach drops as his voice turns soft. That means he’s probably about to say something like— “No one’s hunting you down anymore, Lloyd. You don’t have to keep hiding.”

Lloyd looks down, kicking at a loose chip of concrete. “Yeah,” he says, dully. “I know.”

He does, really, because no one’s jumped out and threatened to drag him off to his father lately, but it’s just — it’s hard to shake. It’s hard to shake the idea that someone’s out there, eyeing his every move, just waiting to rip his world to pieces. It’s hard to shake the idea that any one of these people could be hiding a knife behind their back, a vendetta behind a smile.

He swallows. “I’m working on it.”

“Yeah,” Cole says, and his voice is downcast now, too. “I guess we all kinda are.”

Lloyd bites his lip. There’s a whole lot of understanding in Cole’s voice, but it figures. They’ve all been hit hard by, well, everything that’s happened recently, but Cole’s always tended to see things the same way Lloyd does — with the eyes of a leader, always planning, always looking ahead, and always looking back on what went wrong. And the way he watches the people around them, with a look in his eyes that’s painfully familiar, says a lot more than anything else.

“But ah, to actually answer the question,” Cole speaks up, a bit hesitantly. “I thought, uh, maybe we could go to the hospital.”

Lloyd blinks rapidly. “The hosp— why?” A spark of irritation flares in his chest. If this is about his arm…he’s told them, many times, that he’d gotten it looked at. Many. Times. There’s nothing else any doctor could do about it that Pixal can’t, because all they can do at this point is prescribe him more pain meds, and Lloyd is getting sick of those, so—

“I was just thinking, maybe you could, uh…visit the kids. If you felt up to it.”

Lloyd pauses full-stop in the street, double-taking. “Why?” Cole turns to him, and he quickly continues. “That’s, I mean — not that I don’t want to visit kids, I-I’d be fine with that, no problem, but like — why would they want to see me? Now?”

Because sure, Lloyd’s always down for visiting kids, especially at the hospital — that’s where he met Nelson. But he also — he hasn’t really been showing up on TV in the….best light, lately. Sure, he gave that one speech, but other than that, the most his name has come up is in direct relation to his father, who very recently destroyed half the city, and probably put a whole lot of people in the hospital.

Besides, Lloyd thinks glumly, his left hand kneading reflexively at his shoulder, clutching the edge of the prosthetic. He’s not exactly an inspirational figure right now, much less a role model. More like a model of exactly how not to live your life—

“Because they’ll want to see you,” Cole shrugs, matter-of-factly. “And ‘cause I think some of them could learn something from you.”

“Learn what?” Lloyd breathes, almost laughing. “Cole, I can’t even teach you guys anything.”

“Okay, one, that’s a lie,” Cole says, firmly. “We learn a lot from you, give yourself some credit. You just have to be at practice for us to learn.”

Lloyd flushes, looking down, but Cole nudges him, forcing his gaze back up.

“And two, you’d be surprised.” A wry smile pulls at the edges of his mouth, before he sighs. “Also, I’m kinda hoping you’ll learn something, too.”

It’s Lloyd’s turn to make a face.“Oh, great. So it’s that kind of visit.”

Cole rolls his eyes. He pauses, his shoulders hunching up a bit, looking hesitant again. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

“Nah,” Lloyd sighs, heavily. “I’m not gonna turn down visiting kids in the hospital, what kind of monster do you think I am.”

“I don’t,” Cole says, and his eyes are a little too knowing. “But I do think you’re entitled to choose whether you’re up for it or not.”

And oof, there goes Lloyd’s breath whooshing out of his chest again. “How did you—”

“Also,” Cole says, before Lloyd can continue. “You’re entitled to a meltdown every once and a while, too.”

Lloyd goes scarlet. “I — the other night — it was an accident, I just—”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cole steamrolls over his stuttering airily. Then, just as casually— “There are always spare lightbulbs in the lower left pantry shelf, by the way. Just in case you ever needed to know.”

“Got it,” Lloyd murmurs, ducking his head.

“And half the city’s transformers already got obliterated by the Colossi, so one patch job isn’t a whole lot. Just in case, you know, someone was thinking of beating themselves up for it. Which they shouldn’t.”

Lloyd’s cheeks are flaming. “I-I got it,” he stammers out. Trying to regain some semblance of composure, because he’s been feeling like a nine year-old again way too many times this week as it is, he clears his throat. “I do want to go. Thank you for — for asking, but I do.”

Cole’s expression lightens in relief. “Good,” he says, clapping him on his left shoulder. “Because I might have already told the hospital we were coming.”

“Of course you did,” Lloyd sighs, as they round another street corner, the hospital coming into view.

“Hey, I happen to know my teammates,” Cole shrugs, grinning. “You’re predictable.”

“Of course I am,” Lloyd groans. “You know, I really…”

Lloyd’s train of thought completely derails and plummets straight off a cliff right then, so he trails off in a strangled silence as his mouth goes bone-dry.

Oh. He’d forgotten the view the hospital gave you, of…certain areas…of the city.

“Lloyd?”

Cole’s voice is muffled, filtered weirdly like it’s underwater. Lloyd’s vision tunnels, seeing but not really seeing as he stares at the blank spot in the horizon. He remembers the building that used to be there, twenty-four stories high and just blocking the corner of the sunset in the evenings. He remembers the last time he saw it standing, from halfway across the city, Skylor unconscious in his arms and his father furious. He remembers watching it fall.

He wonders if they ever found—

“Lloyd?”

Cole’s voice is hesitant, laced with concern. Lloyd blinks wildly, tearing himself from the memory, and shudders.

“Let’s go,” he says, shaking his head, as if he can shake the past off. As if he can shake her off, and everything she’s left him with.

He doubts he ever will, but Cole’s hand on his shoulder as they climb the steps outside is warm and grounding, and a reminder that, at least, she didn’t take everything from him.

The front desk attendant at the hospital lets them through without batting an eye, which is a nice change, Lloyd thinks petulantly to himself. He’s quickly tugged from any more thoughts like that, because Cole drags him straight to the kids’ ward, and Lloyd’s suddenly left desperately trying to remember where, exactly, his everything-is-bright-and-happy expression decided to disappear to, because the kids all light up like fireworks when they see him, and Lloyd’s kind of just staring weakly back.

Cole saves him, stepping in front and greeting the kids with bright enthusiasm, which gives Lloyd enough time to pull himself back together. He manages to stutter out some decently happy stuff, but then the kids start talking about the Resistance, and how awesome he looked on TV, and did he totally kick his father’s butt, and was it so cool getting to fight like that, and they were all rooting for him during the prison fight—

Lloyd’s torn between running for the window, and asking them all who in the world let them watch the prison battle, because he’s pretty sure that was not a kid-friendly kind of thing. Instead, he stammers out that yeah, it was pretty cool, and sure, he kicked his — Garmadon’s butt, all while pulling his sweatshirt sleeve further over his arm as it throbs with the constant, painful reminder that he’s a total fraud.

Cole saves him, once again.

“Hey, guys, we’ve got time to talk to all of you, and — yeah, sure bud, we can sign that for you, but Lloyd wants to talk to a few of your friends in particular, okay?”

Lloyd blinks rapidly as Cole steers him away, his words registering. “Wait, what?” He tries to yank his arm from Cole’s hold. “Cole, wait, who do you want me to — wait, I don’t have anything prepared—”

“You won’t need to,” Cole says firmly, then nods at the kid he’s been dragging him over to. Lloyd glares at Cole, huffing out a sigh before craning around his shoulder.

“I don’t—” Lloyd freezes, his mouth open. He shuts it.

The kid Cole’s been dragging him to is sitting by himself toward the back of the common room. The look in his eyes is eerily familiar, hollow and empty-looking where he’s slumped on the couch. He’s leaning awkwardly to one side, and it takes Lloyd a minute — too long, really — before he spots it.

Oh, Lloyd thinks, his breath whooshing out from his chest. He gets it now.

He ducks out from behind Cole, his feet taking him forward almost unconsciously, and he carefully approaches the kid.

“Hey,” he says gently, going down on a knee in front of the kid. “I like your socks.” He nods at the Starfarer-emblazoned ones he’s got on, where his feet dangle over the couch edge.

The kid looks at him, his eyes widening, then back toward his socks. His eyebrows pull into a sad little glare. “I can’t wear my shoes,” he says, hollowly. “I can’t tie ‘em. Not with my…” He trails off, and turns the glare on the empty sleeve of the hospital gown that hangs from his left shoulder. “My arm,” he finishes, quietly.

Something in Lloyd’s heart twists with painful familiarity. “Yeah, I get that,” he says, ruefully. The kid squints at him, and Lloyd exhales, before tugging the sleeve of his hoodie off. The kid’s eyes go huge, and Lloyd swallows, before continuing, smiling shakily at him. “See? I couldn’t even buckle my armor on the first week, and that was after I got the prosthetic. It’s tough stuff.”

The kid continues to stare at the prosthetic, his eyes looking like they’re about to pop out of his head. “Your arm’s gone,” he whispers. “Just like mine.”

“Yeah,” Lloyd breathes out. He rolls up his sleeve, pointing to the edges of the prosthetic. “Lost it right about…here.”

The kid’s eyes rove over the metal arm, lingering on his and Nya’s designs, before zeroing in on where the scarring starts. “And you’re still a ninja?” The kid’s voice is still hushed, almost awestruck.

“Sure am,” Lloyd says, with a crooked smile. “Team leader and everything.” Even if he’s been a pretty awful one lately, his mind supplies.

The kid’s lips part, and he hesitates before speaking again. “A-and you can still…do all that stuff?” he asks, his voice painfully tentative. “Even with…even with your arm?”

Lloyd’s throat goes tight, but he nods. “Yeah,” he says, thickly. “Yeah, I can — I can still do ninja stuff. Took me a bit, but I can tie my shoes, too. And I can still do, uh, handsprings and everything.”

A myriad of expressions crosses the kid’s face, shock then joy then something a whole lot like hope, and Lloyd suddenly realizes why the empty emotion he’d seen in the kid’s eyes when he walked in looked so familiar. It’s the same hollow look Lloyd’s seen looking back at him in the mirror every stupid day since—

And now it’s gone, replaced by something bright and shining.

“Awesome,” the kid says, his voice hushed and reverent, like Lloyd’s just given him some untold kind of gift.

Lloyd has to swallow again, and blinks frantically. “My — my name’s Lloyd, by the way,” he says, holding his hand out — the left one, so it’s not awkward for the kid. The kid grins, in a way that clearly says, ‘I know, duh, moron’. “What’s yours?”

The kid beams. “Max,” he says, gripping Lloyd’s arm and shaking enthusiastically, wobbling a bit off-balance.

“Nice to meet you, Max,” Lloyd smiles back. Then he goes serious, meeting the kid’s eyes. “Listen. All that stuff — you can do it, too. Tie your shoes and everything. It’ll take a bit, but you can, I promise.”

Max stares at him, listening intently, his eyes bright, and Lloyd suddenly feels a terrible amount of pressure.

“But you—” he falters, then sucks a breath in before continuing. “Don’t do it by yourself, okay? You’ve got — you’ve got family, right?”

He immediately wants to kick himself, because what a stupid question, has Harumi taught him nothing—

The kid nods, and Lloyd exhales heavily in relief. “Okay. Good. Let them help you. Family and friends, and the doctors here — they care about you. So even — even if it feels annoying sometimes, or you start thinking that maybe they just think you’re too weak, you gotta let them help you.”

Lloyd pauses, and thinks of Nya, her snarky humor and unwavering strength, the long nights they’d stay up together as she redesigned his arm. He thinks of Jay, coming up with new puns for him and leaving the pain meds bottle on the lowest shelf. He thinks of Zane, of actually listening to him and adjusting his entire training schedule; of Kai, sitting up all night with him and never holding his outbursts against him. He thinks of Cole, sewing the team back together with infinite patience and dragging him out to the hospital because he knew exactly what Lloyd needed to see.

Lloyd thinks about how completely, utterly terrible his life would be without them.

“‘Cause they care about you, and you — you can do it, but you can’t do it without them. You need people who care about you in your corner, so don’t ever take them for granted.”

Max’s eyes have widened a bit, but he nods. “I won’t,” he says, solemnly.

“Good,” Lloyd says, then smiles wryly. “You’ll get the hang of it a lot faster than I did, at that rate.”

“No way, you’re the Green Ninja,” Max scoffs, and Lloyd snorts despite himself. He shakes his head, turning to exchange looks with Cole—

—only to pause, because Cole’s eyes are horribly shiny, all suspiciously watery as he sniffs a bit.

‘You sap’, Lloyd mouths at him, his eyebrows drawing together in accusation. Cole flashes him a gesture, neatly hidden from the other kids behind his hand, and Lloyd is about to descend on him for the audacity, because he always lectures Lloyd for doing that, when Max is suddenly tugging furiously at his hand.

“Wait, wait, you gotta meet my friend!” he says, bouncing from his seat in reckless energy. Lloyd steadies him as he wobbles, and the kid beams at him. “She lost her leg ‘cause she’s real sick, and she’s been pretty sad about it too, but wait until she sees you—! She’s gonna freak out, come on, come on—”

Lloyd gives a startled laugh, but he lets Max drag him forward, tiny fingers locked around his metal ones. Cole waves to him where he’s on the floor, letting kids climb over all him, and he’s got the worst of knowing smiles on his face as they pass.

Lloyd casts his eyes skyward. Cole’s gonna be so smug about this later, but watching the look on Max’s face as he introduces him to kid after kid, Lloyd really can’t bring himself to mind.

******************

They stay a whole three hours longer than they were supposed to, but Max falls asleep on Lloyd’s shoulder by the time they have to go, so the nurses can’t get too upset about them staying way past visiting hours.

“Because you two were adorable, seriously, it’d be like kicking a puppy. I can’t believe I didn’t get any pictures,” Cole shakes his head, looking disappointed in himself.

“Good,” Lloyd says fervently. “Kai would never let me live it down.”

“Aw, he’d frame it on our wall, though.”

“Yeah, and then I’d never live that down!”

Cole snorts loudly, and Lloyd huffs, bouncing down the steps as they exit the hospital. They fall into comfortable silence for a bit, and Lloyd spares a look at Cole from the corners of his eyes, biting his lip. His good mood is fading as they leave the hospital behind them, stepping out into the city evening, the streetlights just flickering on, bright and shiny as they’ve recently been repaired — reminding him.

“What you said, before we went in,” he finally asks headlong. “About…being entitled to choose, and stuff.” Lloyd swallows, then continues. “Was that, um. Did you happen to maybe, like, hear…”

“You and Sensei Wu’s talk?” Cole finishes with a wince, and uh oh, Lloyd can hear the capital ’T’ emphasis on talk. “Our apartment’s really small, Lloyd.”

Oh, no. “H-how much did you hear?” Lloyd asks, almost afraid of the answer.

Cole carefully avoids his eyes, his mouth titled downwards in guilt. “Kind of…everything?”

He definitely should’ve been afraid of the answer, Lloyd thinks numbly. “But Kai said you only—” he pauses, meeting Cole’s sympathetic gaze. His stomach turns. Oh. “Right. Okay. Kai was just trying to make me feel better.”

“He likes to do that, if you haven’t noticed.”

Lloyd grimaces, feeling a stab of his own guilt. “Yeah."

“He’s not the only one,” Cole says, pointedly. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel bad. We’d all like you to feel better.”

“Yeah, well—” Lloyd freezes. A thought suddenly hits him, with a swooping kind of horror. If they heard everything, like everything everything—

“Cole, the part when I said — the part where I said I hated this family,” he stammers frantically. “I didn’t mean — I meant my blood one. Only my blood one, I didn’t — you guys are—”

“Lloyd.” Cole’s hand is gentle on his shoulder, halting them where they stand on the empty street that runs along the river. “I get it. And I know you didn’t mean it, about your family. Either of them.”

Lloyd’s mouth turns downward. “You guys are the only family that matters to me,” he says, stiffly.

Bitterly, his mind supplies, not without a sting, and would it shut up, he’s trying to — to emotionally distance himself here—

Cole’s eyes dart away briefly, something immeasurably sad flashing in them, and almost too empathetic.

“Lloyd, you — you have us. You’ll always have us. And I’m not — I’m not saying you should feel one way or another, ‘cause I know you’re hurt. And you have every right to be, that’s very justified.”

Lloyd looks down. “But,” he says, dully.

“But,” Cole exhales. “But lying to yourself can hurt, too. And I know — look, it was super uncool. That was low of him, and undoubtedly in the wrong. We’re all with you on that. But Lloyd, you know he — you know he cares about you, right? He didn’t… he didn’t do it to hurt you. That wasn’t his intention.”

“How do I know,” Lloyd snaps, bitterly. “How am I supposed to know, Cole. How many times am I supposed to tell myself my mom didn’t mean to leave me, my dad didn’t mean to hurt me, my uncle didn’t mean to — to—”

Lloyd breaks off, his stupid traitor eyes threatening to run as he sniffs. He blows his breath out, steadying himself. Cole, wonderful person that he is, does not comment on any of this.

“I’m just tired,” he finally whispers, staring out with hollow eyes on the river, the dark water glinting in the streetlights. Cole’s hand drops onto his shoulder again, and he squeezes once.

“I know, bud,” he says, sounding horribly young and yet so much older than he should, all at the same time. “I know. I am too.”

Lloyd doesn’t say anything to that, but he doesn’t really need to. The silence is enough, for them — it’s always been, with Cole. There are some things you can say, that you can talk out with words or powers or weapons, but there are some things that you just—

You don’t really get it, until you find it in you to call yourself leader. There aren’t exactly words for how it feels like, playing chicken with your friends’ lives and your family’s lives and the entire city and country on the line.

You just…feel tired.

Cole’s breath hitches, and his hand tightens on Lloyd’s shoulder, carefully around the edges of the prosthetic, but not in a way that grates. It’s normal Cole-careful, not the brittle kind scared-careful everyone’s been about it.

“Just…take it from someone who’s let a family argument fester,” he says quietly. “It doesn’t stop hurting. Not until you face it. However that ends is up to you, but. It helps.”

Lloyd swallows, and the river in front of him blurs, the streetlights turning hazy in his vision. He glances at Cole, then finally meets his eyes.

“You promise?”

“I promise,” Cole nods. He hesitates, then something in his expression steels.

“And if I’m wrong, I’ll help you sign the — the disownment papers, or whatever, myself,” he adds, suddenly fierce. “You can have my last name, instead. Or Kai and Nya’s, or — or we’ll all mash ours together into some garbled mess that’s yours, and you can have like, five or six whole step-parents, and it’ll be great.”

The laugh that startles out of Lloyd is so unexpected he almost makes himself jump, but it’s genuine. A little wet, maybe, but it’s the staggering feeling of relief Lloyd’s been looking for, been wanting, been needing, and—

“It’s worth it,” he blurts out. “It’s worth being the Green Ninja for you guys alone. I’d do it a hundred times if I just got to have you, because — because—”

“Aw, Lloyd,” Cole says, and he wraps him in a full hug this time. “It doesn’t work like that. You don’t need to be the Green Ninja to have us. You’d still have us if you weren’t. You’d still have us if you were just some bratty little kid we yanked from the street. You’d still have us if you only had one limb left and couldn’t even hold a sword, you’d still—”

“I get it,” Lloyd giggles wetly into Cole’s elbow.

Cole shakes his head, and squeezes Lloyd tightly. “And we’re not planning on quitting anytime soon,” he continues, his voice turning serious, and a little too knowing. “So don’t go selling us short, and think we’d die on one shattered ship. We knew what we were getting into, kiddo. We’ve always known.”

Lloyd sucks in a sharp breath, his heart stuttering. A whole bunch of questions are bubbling up in his chest, but they don’t quite make it through his throat, because it’s closing up again, so he just clings back to Cole and tries not to let his eyes water too much. Oh. Lloyd didn’t even have to tell him. Cole already knew.

That’s Cole for you though, Lloyd guesses.

************************

Lloyd has every intention of talking to Sensei Wu. Really, he does — because for one thing, it's caused a painfully obvious rift in their team dynamic which could get them into serious trouble if another threat breaks out, and going by their track record, that could happen like, tomorrow. And for another, they’re all living in an incredibly cramped apartment right now, and while Lloyd is perfectly fine avoiding his uncle by parkouring around the house like an extreme game of the floor is lava, Nya’s probably getting sick of having to get him unstuck from the air vents, so — confrontation it is.

Except if Lloyd’s going to force himself through the agony of that, he’s going to get it all out of the way at once. Besides, he owes his team an explanation, anyways. Probably…several explanations. A whole lot of words, that’s for sure.

So Lloyd sucks it up, finishes cutting off the sleeve on the right side of his pre-Resistance gi so it actually fits, and for the first time since the guys got back, feels somewhat like a shadow of the leader he’s supposed to be as he calls a team meeting. This brief burst of confidence is thoroughly shot through by Nya, who immediately dubs it the “aha, I see it’s time we all talked our issues out” meeting, but — well, it’s not like she’s wrong.

Besides, they needed it. And in hindsight, Lloyd realizes he’s been worrying about all the wrong things.

“I can’t believe you cut your own arm off and didn’t even like, take the opportunity to make a hundred Star Wars jokes. You realize there’s no escaping the Luke Skywalker jokes now, right?”

“For the last time, Luke didn’t cut his own arm off. I’m way more hard core than he is.”

“Yeah, for a maniac. You’re both on full-time babysitting. We leave for five minutes and you go around losing limbs and breaking arms, huh.”

“I can’t believe we ever mourned your deaths.”

“I can’t believe you thought we were dead and didn’t say anything!”

“He’s right, the psychological trauma stemming from such events could be—”

“If any of you say traumatizing again, I’m using the taser feature on my arm.”

“I can’t believe Nya built that in for you.”

“I can’t believe you let Uncle Wu flirt with some random lady in the First Realm.”

“He wasn’t flirting with her, would you let that drop—”

“Alright, alright! Don’t worry, I’ve hit my limb-it. Heh, get it—”

He’s met with a chorus of groans at that, and Jay chucks a couch cushion at his head. But it brightens the already-lightening mood more, weary sort of grins replacing the solemn expressions that everyone’s been wearing through most of this conversation, so Lloyd counts it as a total success. Even if none of them appreciate real humor, he thinks to himself, miffed.

“Okay, real talk, though,” Cole finally speaks up over the rest of them, as their scattered conversation dies down. He meets Lloyd’s eyes. “If you want us to come with you when you talk with your uncle, we’ll be happy to, you know.”

A tight kind of knot forms in Lloyd’s throat. Your uncle, not Sensei. He’d never dream of asking them to pick a side, but—

“Yeah, we’ve all got your back,” Jay nods, miming a punch at the air, before making a face. “You have like, this really awful habit of going all ‘oh no, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault Sensei Wu, ignore everything I said even though it was super valid’—”

Lloyd chucks the couch cushion back at him. “I do not do that,” he scowls.

Nya cuts him a pointed look. “Yes, you do.”

Lloyd glares back. “Do not.”

“She’s right, you do,” Cole echoes.

“Kinda do, bud,” Kai sighs.

Lloyd looks to Zane, pleading. Zane just shakes his head, pityingly. Lloyd sighs. “No faith in me at all,” he says, forlornly.

“We’ve got total faith in you,” Cole says. “You just need to have faith in yourself.”

Lloyd groans, leaning back so he’s fully sprawled across the living room floor. “You sound like Sensei Wu’s lesson book.”

Nya pokes him in the ribs, and Lloyd jerks away, yelping. “Listen to him, Lloyd. Not that I’m against sudden passionate outbursts, but…healthy talks. We need to work on healthy talks.” Her voice wavers, and Lloyd glances up at her. She looks down, then holds her head up, taking a deep breath.

“Which is why, when this blows over, I’d — I’d like to talk about Nadakhan,” she announces, a little unsteadily, but determined. “For — for real, this time.” She gives Lloyd a shaky smile, and he beams back, trying not to look too shiny-eyed about it. Going by her expression, he’s failed, but she spares him the embarrassment and turns her attention elsewhere. “Jay?”

Jay’s shoulders almost go boneless, and an expression of what could be relief flashes across his face. “I’m down if you are,” he exhales.

“Wait, what exactly are we talking about with Nadakhan, here?” Cole says, suddenly wildly concerned. Lloyd feels a brief spark of victory, and not a small amount of vengefulness at the look on Nya’s face — it’s about time someone else is on the chopping black.

“Nothing,” Jay says, waving his arms. He blinks, then suddenly backtracks. “Wait, I mean — it’s definitely something, but, uh — Nya said later! So we’ll talk later, haha?”

“Jay—”

“Hey,” Kai catches him off to the side, as the others dissolve into bickering. His eyes are serious, but the dark circles aren’t quite as bad. Not as awful as they’ve been, which is the best Lloyd can ask for right now, he guesses. “You’ve got this, no problem,” Kai continues, under his breath so the others can’t hear. “But on the off chance you want out, at any point? All you gotta do is yell for me and I’ll swoop in for you and run, just give the word. We can always work this out another day.”

Lloyd bites his lip, looking down. “I need to talk to him, Kai. I can’t leave it like this forever.”

“Well, yeah,” Kai says, evenly. “Maybe not. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re still Master Lloyd to us. We’ll follow your lead.”

Oh, now he’s done it. Lloyd’s throat goes painfully tight, and his eyes burn as he struggles to swallow back anymore embarrassing displays. “K-kai, you—”

“Please tell me I didn’t make you cry again,” Kai says hurriedly.

Lloyd shakes his head, elbowing him lightly in the side. “I wasn’t gonna cry,” he huffs. “I was just gonna say that I—” Lloyd swallows again, and murmurs, “I really missed you, Kai.”

Then, realizing he sounds entirely too vulnerable right now, he clears his throat and gives Kai a shaky grin. “Especially since now I really need you as my right hand man—”

Kai swats the back of his head, scuffing his hair down. “Lloyd, you’re my brother and I love you, but if you make another horrible arm pun, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Please,” Lloyd snorts. “You didn’t bring me a dragon back. If anyone should be never forgiving anyone, it’s me.”

************************

Lloyd’s not one to let fear get the best of him — for very long — but nothing’s really rooted him to the floor in terror like the sight of his uncle’s closed door has. Well, besides maybe his undead father dangling him off the floor in Kryptarium, or the sight of the Bounty getting crushed to pieces, or the way Skylor had collapsed in his arms, or the sensation of twin points of pain on the back of his hand—

Okay, so maybe fear’s been a pretty big player in his life lately, but still. Lloyd doesn’t let fear win out over him. He shouldn’t let fear win out over him.

Fear isn’t a word where I come from, Lloyd’s mind echoes half-hysterically at him.

Absolutely none of this helps the way his hands tremble violently as he knocks on Sensei’s door.

“Come in.”

Sensei Wu’s voice is quiet and level, no revealing trace of emotion in it. Nausea wells up in Lloyd’s throat, but he swallows it down. Kai’s “all you gotta do is yell for me” lingers in Lloyd’s mind, but he shrugs the thought off. As tempting as it is — Kai snatching him up from this conversation entirely and saving Lloyd a lot of awkward stuttering — he can’t just take the easy way out. Cole’s right — Lloyd needs to face this eventually. Letting things fester never helped anyone.

Harumi drove that one home pretty well.

Sucking in a breath, Lloyd finally pushes the door open, cursing his shaking fingers as they clack on the doorknob. His courage — if he can even call it that — falters, and he keeps his gaze rooted to the ground like it’s the most riveting thing in the room. The familiar smell of incense wafts over him, and Lloyd struggles not to throw up again.

There’s a measured intake of breath, before Sensei Wu exhales quietly. “Lloyd.”

Again, there’s little to no emotion in his voice, just that infuriatingly calm serenity, which is no help at all, because Lloyd has zero clue whether he’s furious with him or just — just disappointed, or something worse. And he’s sure as heck not going to look at his expression to figure it out, because that will require meeting his eyes, and Lloyd would rather combust on the spot.

He’s already faced one family member’s eyes burning in hatred on him. If he has to see Uncle Wu, too — Uncle Wu, who Lloyd’s always thought believed in him from the beginning—

“Sit, please.”

Lloyd shakes his head. He can’t. He’s already losing the battle to nerves, he can’t just — pretend this is another master-student talk. He needs to get it over with now, before he goes to pieces again.

“I…” Lloyd swallows. His mouth is painfully dry, and he still can’t get his hand to stop shaking. The metal one is finally listening to him, at least. He finally forces out a shuddery exhale, then curves his spine into a bow, his head hung low.

“Sensei,” he says, almost proud that his voice only wavers the slightest bit. “I’ve come to apologize for my actions earlier. And my words, I — I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

Sensei Wu is silent. The air is so thick Lloyd almost struggles to breath, and a part of him faintly wonders if the incense hasn’t grown a mind of its own and is actively trying to suffocate him.

“I just — it hurt, when you went behind my back, and I know — I know I’m a mess.” The admission stings, but it’s true. It’s way too true, but that still doesn’t give him the right—

“And I’m trying,” Lloyd continues, his voice cracking in all the worst places. “I’m trying so hard, Sensei Wu, I am, but I can’t — you were gone, and I tried so hard to be the-the leader you would want, I really did, but things just — everything went so wrong, and I—”

Lloyd cuts off, swallowing back a sob. “But I didn’t meant it,” he croaks out. “When I said I hated—”

He doesn’t get to finish that, because he’s suddenly being dragged out of the bow by Sensei Wu, and pulled arms-first into a tight embrace before he even realizes what’s happening. Lloyd’s poor brain short-circuits in surprise, and all he can really do is hang there like a dead fish while Uncle Wu clings to him like he hasn’t since Lloyd was nine.

He might also be crying, maybe, but he’s also in dead-fish-mode, so who knows—

“No, Lloyd,” his uncle says, and there’s an edge of a sob in his words, just like the one Lloyd was choking back earlier. “I am sorry. I am so, so very sorry, not only for going behind your back, but for everything—”

He cuts off, inhaling sharply, and Lloyd stares blankly into his shoulder as his eyes decide to run like a leaky faucet. This is — this is not going according to plan. He’s not prepared for this, he was ready for Uncle Wu to yell at him, to be angry, not—

“And you have every right to be angry with me,” Uncle Wu continues, his hold on Lloyd loosening, but not letting go. “But I must — please, Lloyd, you must know it was never you that I doubted, it was me.”

He takes a ragged breath. “I failed your father, Lloyd,” he says, his voice wet. “I failed him, and I lost him. I failed Morro, and I lost him as well. I’ve failed you too, Lloyd, and I’ve almost lost you far too many times, because of my failures, but I still — I still have you, Lloyd. The idea of losing you, for good, because I was not there when you needed me most—”

Uncle Wu’s holding him tighter again, and his word are finally starting to make sense through the haze that’s fogged up Lloyd’s brain, just in time for him to hear the next part clearly.

“You’re my family, Lloyd,” Uncle Wu rasps, suddenly sounding very old. “And I don’t tell you this as often I should, but you should know how very proud of you I am, and the person you’ve become.”

Lloyd sucks in a shuddering breath, his eyes welling over. Oh. His fingers fist into the fabric of his uncle’s robe, tentatively clutching back.

“You should also know,” Uncle Wu says, his voice wet but steady. “How very much I love you, regardless of what title you choose to bear. You will always be my nephew, no matter what color you wear.”

Oh. Oh, no, here he goes again. Lloyd clutches back tighter, drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder, and tries very hard not to cry like a total baby.

He’s about five percent successful.

The scent of incense isn’t so suffocating anymore, even if Lloyd can’t breathe through his nose for crying right now. It smells a little more like he remembers, when he was younger.

Like home.

************************

“It can be very hard,” Uncle Wu tells him later, over the light tea he’s made them both. “To love the people in this family.”

“But you do,” Lloyd voices, watching him hesitantly.

“But I do.” Uncle Wu gives a wry breath of laughter. “Not as well as you do, though.”

Lloyd ducks his head, staring into his tea. “I don’t think it helped very much,” he whispers. “Not with…with my father.”

Uncle Wu’s hand is gentle where it rests on his shoulder.

“You have a big heart, Lloyd,” he says, his voice sad. “And that means there is only that much more to break.” He shakes his hand, and Lloyd sways the tiniest bit back and forth. “That does not mean you are any weaker for it, nor that you are wrong.”

Lloyd gives a snort that is definitely not an attempt to hide welling tears again. “Tell that to my father.”

“You should tell him yourself, if you want.”

Lloyd jerks his head up, his eyes widening. “Then…does that mean I’m off the blacklist?” he asks, tentatively. “For the prison?”

Uncle Wu sighs. “If you are certain it will not break your heart anymore,” he says. “Then you may go whenever you wish. I have already removed the block, but…I would ask that you be sure. For your sake, Lloyd.”

Lloyd stares at his hands, the metal one glinting in the dim lamplight. He thinks of cruel words echoing against prison walls, of how his heart had splintered into pieces long before his father had thrown him through that last prison wall, or he’d taken a sword to his own arm. He thinks of the TV broadcasts that Nya and Jay will never be able to wipe completely from the web, no matter how hard they try. He thinks of how his father will never know the pain of his heart splitting into pieces, certainly not for Lloyd, because it’ll never be the same heart Lloyd knew once.

And yet…

One of them is sitting in a cold cell, and one of them is drinking tea with their uncle, with the people they love most a mere room away (or right outside the door, Lloyd’s overbearing-sibling-radar has been acting up).

Lloyd shakes his head. “I don’t break,” he says, firmly.

He won’t. Not this time. Because his father — his real father, the father he loves, who he’d promised he’d live for, even in the depths of the Cursed Realm—

“I’m a Garmadon,” Lloyd says, his voice steady. “I don’t break.”

Uncle Wu is entirely unsuccessful at hiding the teary sort of smile he’s making in his teacup, but Lloyd will give him credit for trying.

************************

It’s easier walking into the prison again, the second time.

Is what Lloyd is going to say, when the others ask him how it went when he gets back. The reality is that Lloyd is every bit as mind-numbingly terrified walking through these stupid doors as he was the first time. Except this time might even be worse, actually, because he misses a step on the way in and almost trips flat on his face, which totally ruins the badass power walk he was trying to do.

It’s not like he’ll ever be able to stride around like his father, anyways, Lloyd thinks dully, even as his face burns. Not when Garmadon’s got about four entire feet and the malevolent energy of Darth Vader on him.

Lloyd spends the next three minutes cursing himself for giving in to the Star Wars references, enough that he almost forgets the growing sense of anxiety writhing in his gut as he hurries through the prison. He doesn’t spare the walls a second glance this time, making a beeline directly for the isolation cell.

He holds his breath, just a tiny bit, as the guard scans him in. He’s almost surprised as he immediately waves him through, but forces himself to shake it off.

He’s not going to walk out of this with crippling trust issues all around. He’s not. Uncle Wu said he’d told them Lloyd could go, so Lloyd trusts him. And Uncle Wu is trusting him not to break down over this, so Lloyd isn’t going to. He’s just gonna have a…a nice little chat, with his father, that’s all. Maybe ask about the impending doomsday stuff he was muttering about, and make sure he isn’t planning to break out. Definitely not going to bring up anything related to Lloyd’s emotional state, that’s for sure.

It’s going to be just fine, Lloyd assures himself, even as his metal fingers twitch, the occasional static of green buzzing between the joints. He needs to keep an eye on that. Nya’s started getting him to run actual tests on it, so he knows the green power works fine with his arm, but still.

It’s the fight that fuels his father, and Lloyd hasn’t needed a lot of encouragement to go off on someone lately.

He shoves those thoughts back as the guard takes him deeper into the prison, the hallways growing darker and narrow. Lloyd has to swallow back a growing sense of claustrophobia the farther they go, his skin crawling as unbidden memories of the fight flicker in the back of his mind.

His hands ball into fists. You’re fine, he tells himself again. This is different. It’s fine.

His power buzzes in the back of his head, as if attempting to voice that it disagrees. Lloyd studiously ignores it, because the guard’s letting him in now, and he’s got a lot more problems to worry about.

Or just one big one, he thinks faintly, staring at his father where he’s illuminated in the middle of the dark room, sitting calmly in his cell as he stares at the ceiling.

For a beat, Lloyd’s rooted to the spot — half from a dizzying sense of nausea, half because he can’t find the walkway they’ve built.

…mostly because he can’t find the walkway they’ve built. Lloyd spends an embarrassing ten seconds thinking that Garmadon’s cell is just floating there, and he’s going to have to holler this conversation back and forth across the dark expanse, before his eyes finally catch on the dim-lit walkway.

No railings, Lloyd notes, and half of him wonders how funny it’d be if, after everything, he accidentally slipped and fell on the way to visit his imprisoned father, and that’s what did him in. It’d be a real spite to Harumi, that’s what—

“I was wondering when you’d come to visit.”

Lloyd swallows at the voice, and forces himself to meet the crimson eyes staring at him, so much like his own.

“Father,” he says in greeting, as tonelessly as possible.

Garmadon scoffs, but he says nothing to refute him. The tiniest embers of hope light in Lloyd’s chest, before he violently smothers them. He’s not here to get hurt again.

His father’s eyes are moving down now, coming to a halt on Lloyd’s prosthetic. Lloyd shifts uncomfortably with the urge to hide it from view, forcing himself to stand steady.

“I never did like snakes,” Garmadon finally says, his voice even, then returns to staring at the ceiling.

Lloyd blinks. That’s it? That’s it. Lloyd’s lost an entire arm and — yeah, Garmadon already got a face-first introduction to the prosthetic back on Borg Tower, but he’d — he’d thought —

Lloyd doesn’t know what he’d thought, actually. He doesn’t have any footing with his father, anymore. He doesn’t know this person like he used to know the father who loved him.

“You said something to me, back on the tower,” Lloyd says, rallying himself. “About how they were coming. I wanted to ask you what you were talking about.”

Garmadon tilts his head, regarding him through slitted eyes. “Why don’t you ask your dear uncle?” he says, derisively. “I’m sure there’s plenty more he knows that he hasn’t told you.”

“Sensei Wu tells me enough,” Lloyd says, flatly. “If something’s coming, he’ll make sure we’re ready.”

“If you are the best he can offer, then you’re already doomed,” Garmadon scoffs.

Lloyd grits his teeth. “And yet,” he says, with forced calm. “I still beat you.”

“Watch yourself, boy,” Garmadon snarls, his teeth glinting. “You won on a technicality. Don’t be so quick to forget how easily I broke you before."

Pitching himself off the walkway is sounding like a better option by the second, which means Lloyd should probably get out of here soon.

“This threat,” he forces out, yanking them back on track. “You keep talking about. Want to share any more on that?”

Garmadon rolls his eyes. “The danger I spoke of has yet to pass,” he says, unconcerned. “I wouldn’t let it worry you and your pathetic friends’ little heads so soon. Like I said, I doubt you could handle it.”

Lloyd stares at him, incredulous. “So what, you’re just going to sit around until it’s here? And do nothing? That’s just going to make — make whatever it is worse.”

Garmadon snorts, his laugh caustic and bitter, but offers nothing else.

Lloyd’s lip curls. “Forget it, then,” he snaps. “If you’re not going to talk about anything useful, I’m not wasting my time on you. I can always come back.”

He means to storm off after that, but his feet falter, and he hesitates. He stares at his father, this hollowed-out version of him slumped in defeat in a prison cell. Something in his chest twists.

This is never what he wanted. He never wanted any of this. Is this what destiny does to them all, then? Chains them to each other until they’ve all brought each other down to their lowest point? Destroys everything thats good about them until there’s nothing but an empty shell left?

The edge of the walkway looms on either side of him, dropping into suffocating darkness. Lloyd balls his hands into fists, and remembers the crushing hopelessness he’d felt as Harumi had laughed at him on the train. It feels a lot like his grandfather’s laughing at him now, watching their stupid family drama play out like the worst kind of tragic soap opera.

Lloyd’s fists tighten. No, he tells himself. No. That’s not what destiny will do to him.  

He’s the one that got away, isn’t he?

Garmadon finally seems to lose patience, his eyes flashing as he stands. “If you’re still here to gloat, boy—”

“I’m my own person, you know,” Lloyd speaks over him, cutting his father off. “I’ve got more than just you. I’m not just some fragment of your broken legacy.”

Garmadon stares back in surprise, but he says nothing.

“But I’m still your son, no matter what you say,” Lloyd continues, his voice steady. “And I’m keeping your name. So deal with it, or whatever.”

And with that, he turns around and paces steadily from the cell, back into the light. He doesn’t look back, not even once.

He can come back later, anyways. But right now, he’s gonna be late for practice.

************************

“—left, he’s on your left, Jay, are you blind?!”

“He’s fast! I don’t see you catching him!”

“That’s ‘cause you’re supposed to be guarding the left, we’re cornering him!”

“On the contrary, you are leaving your right side wide open for me. By my calculations, neither of you will ever corner me.”

“Oh, I’ll show you, tin can—”

Lloyd gives a breathless giggle as he listens in, confident in Zane’s ability to distract Cole and Jay for now. Nya’s still a possible threat, unless she’s going after their flag right now, but Lloyd’s pretty secure in the hiding place they’d picked.

“Head in the game, green machine!”

Lloyd shakes his head, jerking himself back the present at Kai’s whispered hiss. He wobbles precariously from where he’s standing on Kai’s shoulders, throwing his arms out for balance. He glares up at where Cole’s managed to hang their flag, dangling cheerfully from the tree branch far above the ground.

“Give me a sec,” Lloyd hisses back, right arm straining as his fingertips brush the air just below the flag. He scowls, biting back a curse.

“Do not tell me you’re too short to reach,” Kai whispers, before wavering a bit and tightening his hold around Lloyd’s ankles.

Lloyd scowls down at him. “I’m not,” he grumbles. “Just hold on.”

Kai makes an anxious sound. “Lloyd, Nya’s gonna catch on to us any second—”

“Hold on, hold on,” Lloyd mutters, reaching for the prosthetic port. With a click, he detaches the arm and steadies it in his other hand, then hoists it up and neatly catches the edge of their flag with it, knocking it into Kai’s waiting hands.

“Nice!” Kai crows in victory — only to turn to a yelp as Nya comes barreling around the corner, her expression borderline terrifying.

“You’re supposed to be watching our flag!” she roars at Cole and Jay, before diving for them. Lloyd shrieks as Kai launches him from his shoulders, giving a desperate cry of “Run, Lloyd!”

Lloyd flails wildly before managing to hit the ground in a roll, somersaulting once before scrambling to his feet. He spares a moment of memoriam for Kai as Jay tackles him, before being forced to break into a dead sprint as Nya comes in hot on his heels.

“Go, Lloyd!” Zane calls, from where he’s tussling with Cole. “They haven’t found our flag, we can win!”

“Not if I catch him,” Nya hisses, the hair on Lloyd’s neck standing up at how close she is. He puts on a burst of speed, streaking across the grassy field toward their base. Nya’s a blur in the back of his vision as he turns his head, but he might be able to outrun her if—

Lloyd yelps as he’s jerked backwards. “Gotcha!” Nya yells triumphantly as she locks a hand around Lloyd’s right wrist, firmly holding him back.

Lloyd doesn’t hesitate. Shoving the edge of the flag between his teeth, he reaches up and disconnects the prosthetic, shooting forward as Nya’s left stumbling, holding his arm.

“Lloyd Garmadon!” she cries indignantly. “That’s cheating!”

Lloyd cackles wildly as he runs, wavering a bit at he’s thrown off-balance from being one-armed, before quickly adjusting to the weight change and sprinting faster. Nya’s started chasing him again, but it’s too late — she’s lost valuable time, and Lloyd skids over their base line with a whoop.

Kai and Zane burst into cheers as Cole curses, finally letting Zane free from his grasp. Nya slides to a halt beside him where he’s doubled over panting, breathing heavily herself. She’s glaring at him through the sweaty hair that’s hanging in her face, and Lloyd gives her a sunny smile in return.

“You’re a dirty cheater,” she finally huffs.

“No rules in capture the flag against taking your arm off,” he replies, cheerily.

Nya rolls her eyes, but there’s a pull at the edge of her mouth like she’s trying not to smile as she thrusts his prosthetic at him.

“I don’t appreciate you treating my creation like that,” she sniffs.

“Aw, c’mon,” Kai grins, having caught up with them. “That was classic.”

“Yeah, if you’re a cheater,” Jay scowls. “I vote a rematch.”

“What, so you can lose a fifth time?”

“It has not been five times—”

“Yes it has, Zane’s been keeping count.”

“Zane’s a dirty cheater too!”

“How dare you—”

Lloyd snickers as they dissolve into arguing, carefully clicking his arm back into place. There’s still a flicker of pain as he does, but it’s getting easier. It’ll take time, he figures, just like everything else. You can’t fix all your problems in a day, no matter what Uncle Wu’s said before.

But for now, he can play dumb training games with his team. He can forget about whatever threat on the horizon, if only for a moment. Uncle Wu can amend his stance on what counts as training, because this is Lloyd’s turn to lead practice, and if he wants to play capture the flag, then that’s his call. And he can cheat with his arm if he wants to, because the universe can take his arm from him, but it’s not gonna take his ability to be a terrible little brother.

And it’s not going to take the fact that he’s Lloyd Garmadon, either, Lloyd thinks, as he straightens, his arm swinging into place. No one is. Not Harumi, not his own father, not an entire legal team from child protection services like Cole keeps joking (threatening) to call. Lloyd Garmadon is his name, and he’s keeping it.

...arguments could be made, though, for changing it to Lloyd Arm-Is-Gone.

“Lloyd, no.”

“That was awful.”

“You guys just have no taste!”

“We have plenty of taste, but the puns—”

“It’s my missing limb, I choose the coping mechanism.”

“You wanna miss another one, punk?”

“I’d like to see you try. At least I have an excuse for losing capture the flag. Oh wait, we won.”

“Oh, you’re on. Same teams as last time, you better watch your back—”

—yeah. They might not be perfectly fine just yet, but they’re going to be. And no one can take that from them, either.

[keelywolfe]

Drabble: Crossed Wires (baon)

Summary: Red doesn't usually actually listen to all those bugs he keeps at his brother's place.

Much.

Tags: Kustard, Background Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, As Domestic as Red Gets, Control Issues

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

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Red didn’t check the listening devices in his bro’s house as much as some people seemed to think. Yeah, sure, not everyone felt the need to bug their brother (noun, not verb) but then, not everyone saw the first time their baby bro jammed a sharpened bone into another Monster’s eye while marrow ran down their face from their freshly cracked socket, so fuck those people, anyway.

It was only a precaution, that was all, to keep his people on the safe and narrow, and Red could quit anytime he liked.

Besides, he didn’t make the little eavesdroppers, that was Sansy’s gig. Didn’t really know how Sans even got into it. He didn’t listen in on his own bro, but eh, he’d only moved out recently. There was plenty of time to plan a break-in to plant a few good ‘ol bugs in the living room so they could keep an ear on Blue and Papyrus’s version of chit-chat.

Anyway.

So yeah, Red didn’t really listen often, only sometimes, like when one of the keywords he had set popped up in the feed. ‘LV’ was one, any version of ‘depressed’ was another. ‘Chicken’ was a recent addition and he might end up taking that one out; the amount of alerts he was getting that involved Stretch recording TikToks with his little murder birds was getting excessive. Raised voices got a priority alert and if he’d heard the fucking argument they’d had before Edge’s trip to Cali, he might’ve rethought letting Asgore send his bro out in his place.

No point in fussing about it now, he’d suck on that guilt some other time.

All Red did was check the alerts, that was it. And, okay, maybe sometimes, not often, he’d end up lying on his living room floor with headphones on, listening to the live feed.

Days like today, where his soul felt too-hot and achy in his chest, unwelcome thoughts itching at the inside of Red’s skull, mental termites that wouldn’t shut the fuck up, so time to give them something else to listen to.

It was right around dinnertime and Red could hear the steady thump of a knife against a cutting board. Without a video feed, Red was stuck with an internal game of charades and that was fucking perfect right about now.

If he thought about it, he’d figure his bro was prolly standing on that leg like he wasn’t supposed to, hiding his pained grimace behind that shield of stoicism that Edge hadn’t quite managed to stash away yet.

Although it could be Stretch was helping? He didn’t usually hang around while Edge was cooking, he was more of pit-stop-kiss-and-run when the oven mitts came out.

Today, though, Stretch was rambling about something, wandering vines of conversation that wrapped around each other and wove around into knots before traveling in a circle back to the beginning. Listening to the honey bun was fucking exhausting when he got revved up, kid could yak about an incredible amount of nothing for a truly impressive amount of time.

Nah, that wasn’t quite right, was it. Red found that endless chatter exhausting, but his bro?

There. There it was. The sound levels of the feed were incredible, those little devices Sans came up with coulda picked up mouse fart from the pantry, if any ever managed to sneak past Edge’s keen sight. That wasn’t likely and what it did end up getting instead was a quiet chuckle, raspy and softened with happiness.

His bro was happy.

Red exhaled, one long, slow breath and the agitation roiling in his soul settled, volcanic heat cooling along with the urge, the need to do something, anything, reach out with his clawed hands and--Red closed his sockets and listened, not to the words, only the voices around them, cushioned with that happiness.

Didn’t get to hear it for long. He felt the air pressure of the room change and Red opened his sockets to see Sans standing in the doorway. No point in pretending he wasn’t playing a game of eavesdrop, wasn’t like Sans wasn’t the one who helped him stash the bugs.

Red slipped off his headphones and raised a browbone at Sans.

“got what you needed?” Sans’s gaze held no judgement and that was saying something.

The burn in his soul was mostly gone and in its place it left a temptation to slide right into innuendo and yeah, Red gave his crotch a squeeze with one hand, purring out, “sansy, i got what you need right here.

Sans couldn’t stop grinning any more than Red, but he could roll his eye lights. “hope you give out rainchecks, we got an invite to dinner from your bro. if we head out now, there might still be a coupla honey rolls left, if edge managed to keep 'em hidden from stretch.”

Dinner. With Stretch and his bro. A chance to listen to that happiness right up close.

“eh, may as well,” Red said and the disinterest in his voice was the product of years of careful cultivation. “think whatever is growing in our fridge just hit the industrial revolution.”

“wouldn’t wanna stand in the way of progress,” Sans agreed and he knew, and he knew that Red knew, they both knew it all. But all he did was hold up the door, one foot holding the cat at bay while Red shoved his feet into his sneakers to follow Sans out.

He let Sans shortcut them over this time and in the brief moment it took for them to settle on their feet, adjusting to the change from one sidewalk to another through the void, Red ran his thumb over the buckle at Sans’s throat, a quick second to trace that little heart-shape.

That single touch was enough to settle his soul even more, easing the burn into a different kind of unknown warmth.

It was…nice, okay? It was nice.

“c’mon, let’s see what grub the boss came up with this time.” Red turned away before he could give in to another temptation, one to drag them right back to the void and to their bed. That’d come later, with every one of those little bugs set on mute.

Dinner was fine and dandy, handy, but there was always room for a lil’ dessert.

-finis

[veeteeshirt]

Oooooh!! For Faustus and Mason, #46: "What happens if I do this?” 😘

Music floats down the hall, stopping Felix in his tracks. He tilts his head towards the sound. It sounds sort of like the music that Nat plays sometimes on her piano, but the sounds aren’t as deep and as melodious. Certainly not unpleasant though.

Curiously he tracks it all the way down to Faustus’s room. The door is cracked just a tad, letting out the clearer sound of a slow paced tune, the sound lilting up and down like it were waves of a rocking ocean. Some parts have long trailing notes, almost like the song is aching, yet other places it speeds up. It’s a constant back and forth and Felix finds himself listening, enthralled.

He’s so distracted by the music that he doesn’t notice when someone comes up behind him and scoffs. Loudly. In his ear.

He jumps with a short yelp. Shortly after, there’s a sharp stutter in the song.

Felix whips around to see Mason’s face set in a light, amused smirk. “Eavesdropping a new hobby of yours Felix?”

“Ha! Nah, just enjoying some nice sounding tunes, is that a crime?” Felix flashes Mason a dazzling grin. From inside Faustus’s room, he can hear the detective curse and stumble around. “You alright in there, Faustus? You don’t gotta stop on my account!”

A moment later, Faustus sulks out of his room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. A bulky set of black headphones with purple detailing hang around his neck. His bangs, which usually flop against his forehead no matter how many times he pushes back the hair, are held back by glittery clips. Just beyond the closed door, Felix sees the glint of something shiny.

His grin widens an inch further when he sees Faustus’s moody pout. “I was in the zone you know. I really had something going in there.”

“You really are like another Nat you know,” Mason quips and shoves an unlit cigarette between his lips. “Didn’t know the similarities didn’t stop at what book nerds you both are.”

Faustus rolls his lips into a teasing smirk and shrugs one shoulder. “What can I say? I’m a nerd of many talents.”

“Can I see what your instrument looks like? There’s no way you would have been able to fit a whole piano in your room.” Felix asks, though he doesn’t wait for Faustus to give the affirmative before he’s inching closer to the door.

A stoic mask, not unlike Agent Valentine’s, briefly crosses Faustus’s face. Finally, he rolls his eyes and steps aside. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Felix darts in, Mason a few steps behind, side stepping away from a huge potted floor plant and a small heap of clothes to what looks like a piano if someone just chopped off the key parts. It’s shoved up against a wall along with a rickety looking stool. Leafs of sheet music cover the top of the keyboard, the margins scrawled with messy notes, arrows crossing between the margins.

A few buttons peek through the mess. Most of plain with small text underneath them, but a bright red button catches his eye.

“Hey, what happens if I do this?”

Faustus snaps his eyes away from Mason a beat too late to stop Felix from pushing the button. “Wait-”

Music flows out from the speakers, a little muffled by the papers, but clear enough for Felix to quickly realize that it’s actually Faustus’s singing. His voice is deep and lulling, each word dripping into the next as easily as water. Felix turns wide eyes back to Faustus and Mason.

Faustus’s face is flushed red in mortification, his mouth hanging open, one hand raised out to Felix. It flops back to his side as he releases a long, suffering groan. “Goddamnit Felix.”

“Huh. Forgot that you sing,” Mason says, his brows drawn together in thought. “You sound better when you’re not trying to grate on my nerves.”

“Yeah, well, let’s just say all those nights of karaoke with Tina paid off. And Felix, will you turn it off?” Faustus snaps. 

“Aw, but I wanna listen to you sing! You have a pretty nice sounding voice, maybe you could serenade Mason. Bet he’d like that.”

The detective’s eyes narrow, his shoulders tensing.

Before either of them can do anything, Mason steps forward and jams his hand against the button. Faustus’s singing is cut off between a lyric about falling and cliffs. Silence falls over the room to Felix’s disappointment. Faustus’s eyes shift away from him to Mason, his expression shifting to gratefulness. Mason holds their gaze and it’s like the air sparks between them with the intensity of it all before he shoulders past Felix and brushes past Faustus, their arms glancing off each other.

Mason dips in close to Faustus’s ear and mutters something to Faustus that Feilx can’t quite catch. Whatever he says, a bright smile briefly crosses his face. As soon as Mason is out the door (though, Faustus’s eyes do linger after his back), the smile drops from his face and he shoots Felix an annoyed glare.

His lip lifts up in a half-sneer. “So you saw my keyboard. Satisfied?” 

There’s barely any real heat in it. Felix laughs. “For right now. But I’ll be back.” Felix tosses him a grin and a wink and speeds out.

He doesn’t miss the impolite flip of a finger Faustus gives him.