#he even called my other brother a slur and said ‘he was being sensitive about it’ and I was torn between staying hidden and throwing hands

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

All I can do until we see what happens with this election is hope, distract myself, and try to get others to vote, because if I think too hard about it my anxiety and depression gets worse and the voice in the back of my head that tells me to hurt myself and go hide in the woods or something gets louder

[nanenna]

This Phone Call Could've Been the Start to a Beautiful Partnership

Sleepy King AU Masterpost

-----

Clark couldn’t help fussing over the sleepy boy as Danny zombie shambled into the kitchenette. Between the dimmed lights and the scents of various teas brewing the small room felt cozy, almost warm and inviting despite the austere sterility. Once Danny was seated, Clark sat between the boy and Bruce, having already handed out the meagre breakfast the others had silently offered.

The boy was so thin, he knew Ma would long to cook him a good hearty meal.

He could see the magicians gearing up for a spell of some kind, and he was still on distraction duty. It was easy enough, food and drink made for a good distraction, throwing in a few basic questions, anything to keep him from noticing the growing tension in the room despite everyone’s best efforts to make it calming.

There were three gasps from the magicians as what was clearly a phone’s ringing came from Danny. It was odd, they were sure the boy had no pockets on his well loved star patterned pajama pants and plain white T-shirt. The phone rang again, Danny’s hand already slowly raising to his ear. Clark watched wide eyed as an earpiece appeared at Danny’s touch, a slim line of light that traveled down the attached arm to reveal a neon green mic at the end.

“... ‘llo?” Danny mumbled, still slowly chewing his mouthful of toasted pastry.

Clark whipped out his own communicator and quickly started a group chat, ready to transcribe the whole conversation. Batman was already furiously typing at a keyboard he popped out of his tablet, so Clark focussed on just what Danny and his caller were saying.

“Danny?” A feminine voice asked quietly. With the volume set that low the boy must have very sensitive hearing for a human, meta perhaps? “Where are you?”

“‘M lost,” Danny mumbled sleepily.

“What do you mean you’re lost? Lost where? Are you in the ‘Zone?”

“... no, not the ‘Zone. S’okay, Dad’s here.”

“Dad’s there with you?”

“Mmm…” Danny nibbled some more of his pastry.

There was a soft sigh from the other end. “I wish they’d remember to tell the school about sick days,” the feminine voice grumbled before speaking up. “Danny, let me talk to Dad.”

“‘Kay,” Danny slurred, then he plucked the earpiece from his ear and blindly held it out to Clark.

Clark took the earpiece with a strained grin. “I’m just… going to take this out into the hall, wouldn’t want to be rude to everyone else. You’ll be okay by yourself for a minute?”

Danny made an agreeing hum, nibbling more on his pastry.

Clark carefully stood up and kept an eye on Danny as he moved out into the hall. Once he was out of line of sight he zipped further down, to where Constantine and Raven were waiting around a corner. He stuck in the earpiece and kept his communicator in hand, continuing to transcribe the conversation for the rest of the team.

“Hello?” Clark asked, wondering if he should keep playing at being Danny’s father.

“Who is this?” The voice asked suspiciously.

Clark took a deep breath, but decided this was for the best. “Superman, who’s this?”

“Superman?!”

“To whom am I speaking?” Clark insisted, he’d really like to know, even if he already had a guess.

“Why is Superman answering my brother’s phone?! Why did he call you our Dad? What’s going on?!”

Ah, it is the sister. “Well Ms. Fenton, it seems there was a bit of confusion on that part. He mistook me for your father and we decided that to keep him calm it was best to let him continue to believe that.”

“What’s going on?!” Jasmine Fenton yelled, clearly distressed.

“I’m afraid it’s a bit of a delicate situation, but rest assured we have our best and brightest working on a solution,” Clark reassured.

“Danny was missing this morning, did the Justice League seriously kidnap my little brother from his bed in the middle of the night?!”

“What?” Was faintly heard in the background of the phone call, clearly Jasmine wasn’t alone.

“We did no such thing,” Clark said in his most soothing voice. He wasn’t sure how much he should tell her, the situation really was delicate, and on top of that despite her having turned 18 recently Jasmine was not Danny’s legal guardian or parent. “We rescued Danny last night, but unfortunately there were some side affects from his kidnappers we’re currently trying to reverse before we send the poor boy home.”

“Superman says Danny got kidnapped last night, got rescued, and currently has side affects they’re trying to fix?” Jasmine said uncertainly. There was a hushed conversation after that, one the comm didn’t pick up. Clark despaired over technology being fine tuned to such a limited range. There were a few snatches of almost words he could catch, but nothing worth noting down. Then finally Jasmine and whoever she was speaking with seemed to come to a conclusion, “Where is Danny?”

“He’s safe.”

“Where?” Jasmine insisted firmly.

“He’s at a Justice League facility, where he’s being treated.”

“Treated how? He was able to answer his phone, even if he sounded half asleep still. What’s wrong with him? What are the side affects? Why weren’t our parents called?”

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to tell you any of that,” Clark winced as he said that. It felt like such a cop out.

“Why weren’t our parents informed?” Jasmine asked again, voice hard as steel.

“As I said, the situation is very delicate.”

“But why weren’t our parents informed.”

“It’s a time sensitive situation, we’re working to solve it as quickly as possible.”

“This is ridiculous, give the phone back to Danny.”

Clark winced again, “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“What?!”

“As I said, the situation is very delicate, we can’t afford to stress Danny out until the affects have been removed.”

“And what even are these affects you keep speaking of?!”

Clark hesitated, looking down to the chat he’d been transcribing the conversation into, then over to Constantine and Raven, hoping desperately for some advice. All he got was a sloppy shrug. What did he tell her? What would they tell her family if they weren’t able to remove Pariah without killing Danny? “It’s��� magical. In nature.”

“Forget it, you’re clearly no help.” The line went silent, the call ended.

Constantine held his hand out, Clark removed the earpiece and handed it over. “What is it?” He asked tiredly.

“According to Z it was a clever bit of necromancy she’d never seen before.”

“Necromancy?” Clark asked in confusion, couldn’t that only raise the dead? He’d never heard of necromancy doing anything else.

Constantine ignored him, already huddled over the earpiece with Raven as both muttered spells over the tiny thing.

Clark’s communicator beeped, it was a message from Bruce. “The sister goes by Jazz.” Right, he needed to know that if he was going to continue pretending to be Danny’s father.

He sighed, but plastered on a smile as he stepped back into the kitchenette. “Jazz was just checking in on us, I told her we’ll see her at dinner tonight.”

Danny just nodded his head and made a humming sound of agreement. Hopefully that’ll buy them a bit more sleepy time before the tyrant Ghost King woke up.

[goldentsum]

— love, you can’t run away from me forever.

PAIRING: soulmate! suna rintarou x reader

GENRE: smut, soulmate au but make it dark

WORDCOUNT: 5.5k

SUMMARY: growing up in a world filled with soulmates was magical but with news about people going crazy and killing people for their “love” made suna repulsive to the idea of soulmates though when you came along, he finally understood why those people did it. 

WARNING: dark content, smut, noncon, manipulative tendencies, cussing/cursing, creepy! and delulu! suna, mean! reader, masturbation (male), photos and audio recording taken w/o consent, kidnapping, oral sex (fem receiving), bdsm, sadistic! suna, dom! suna, violence, abuse, blood, suna is a dick, reader who tries to fight back

AUTHOR’S NOTE: another one cus why not! you guys seemed to liked my first dark fic so here’s another one! <3 might be bad idk prob cus of my writing HAHAHHA also, suna just being a creepy and psychopathic aquarius. DO NOT INTERACT/READ IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON’T LIKE THIS TYPE OF CONTENT. 

REMINDER: this is not love and i do not condone this type of behavior. do not romanticize this, this is fiction and in no way am i telling people this is okay. if you don’t like content like this, please click away or block the tag tw.darkcontent

‘the world is fucked up,’ suna thought, looking at his phone as he saw all types of news about people killing and committing all types of felonies to prove that their love for their soulmates were real. 

the stoic male grimaced at one news he came upon when he scrolled up, a young man killed his family and friends because “he doesn’t need anyone else beside his soulmate”. now that was fucked up. suna never thought he'd lose faith in humanity even more with each passing day. it was actually impressive with how fucking stupid and delusional people get when the topic of soulmates come up. 

gold eyes narrowed at the inked skin of his wrist. “(l/n) (y/n)” or whoever that is better not mind never having a soulmate because there’s no way in hell suna’s going to be all lovey-dovey and accept the soulmate bullshit. 

he thinks that soulmates are a scam. it was a hoax to make people do stupid shit and suna will not tolerate that type of bull. if he’s gonna end up with someone, it’ll be because he likes them not because of ‘fate’ or whatever decided it for him. 

he will never conform to society and its standards. 

“suna! what’s with the ugly face?” atsumu snickered, plopping down on the seat beside suna making the taller male groan. 

“oh fuck off, atsumu. i’m not in the mood for your bullshit” 

“when have you ever been in a mood for bullshit?” 

suna raised a brow and hummed, “good point” 

atsumu shook his head and turned to the counter where his brother was standing behind. “’samu! i want 3 tuna onigiris!” 

osamu glared at his brother and scowled, “get it yourself, lazy ass” 

“i’m paying you!” atsumu whined like the little brat he is but osamu ignored him and tended to the other customers in his shop. suna groaned at the noise, “for fuck’s sake, tsumu. shut up. your voice is so annoying” 

atsumu glared at the man and punched his shoulder, making suna winced and scowled at his former teammate from highschool. the older miya twin huffed and ignored his words, continuing what he was about to say before suna insulted him, “anyway! what i was trying to say earlier was that people around us are finding their soulmates while i’m stuck with you bums! how is that fair?!” 

suna groaned, annoyed, at the same old topic of soulmates. “soulmates are overrated. it’s a scam. you’re lucky you haven’t met yours yet if anything.” 

the setter scoffed at suna’s old same line of bitterness towards the topic of soulmates, “what’s with you, anyway? what’s with the bitterness towards soulmates?” 

“it’s bullshit, is all” suna replied easily, not bothered nor giving a shit. atsumu smirked and threw an arm over the male’s shoulder, “one day, you’ll meet your soulmate and everything’s gonna change.” 

“did you just curse me or?” 

“I don't know, did i?”

oh for fuck’s sake. atsumu really did cursed him. suna stared in awe, uncharacteristically so, at you while you glared at him. you clicked your tongue when his gaze was still as dazed and lovesick since you two have met. 

“fuck off, rintarou! i told you i don’t want any soulmate bullshit!” 

suna chuckled with a small blush on his cheeks, “i love it when you call me, rintarou--”

“because that’s your name, stupid! you know what, i’m not even gonna bother. and for the last time, stop following me!” you growled, stomping off to get away from your creep of a soulmate but the man didn’t mind your words. it was quite amusing to him to be honest. 

you’re so cute and small and so angry at the world that it’s so endearing to him. with every glare you give him, it sends pleasant shivers down his spine. ah, so this is what it felt to be with your soulmate. it’s addicting. you two could rule the world together if you want to. 

“love, you can’t run away from me forever. i’m your soulmate” 

you groaned at the persistent male, “i don’t want you as a soulmate! why can’t you understand that?!” 

suna stopped following you after your harsh words. you also stopped, your anger subsiding a bit when you realized what you said and all of a sudden, there was a pain in your heart. you cursed at the soulmate bond that was not letting you reject your fate. guilt resurfaced in your gut when you looked at suna who’s staring at the ground, eyes hidden under his bangs. 

“r-rintarou?.. look i’m sorry, okay. but i don’t really want any soulmate business in my life-...” you tried to explain but quickly cut your words off when suna started chuckling. 

scared and terrified at the creepy laugh and unexpected action, you stepped back and looked at him with wide eyes. suna then looked up at you and smirked, the dark glint in his eyes gave you the creeps, his breath heavy as he panted like a dirty pervert! his eyes were so filled with emotions. lust, obsession, and ‘love’ but you don’t  even know if you can call it ‘love’...

“did you feel that? it shows... no matter what you do. we’re connected.” 

oh fuck no. this psycho is not worth it. you grimaced at his words and turned back around swiftly, walking faster to get away from him. 

“fate will always bring us together, (y/n). the quicker you accept that, the easier life gets” you heard him shouted after you and it only made you quicken your actions, heart beating rapidly at what just happened. 

suna smirked at your figure as it grew smaller and smaller. he figured he’d let you go for now. it’s not like you can hide from him. you can try but the ink on your skin will always remind you where you belong and that’s with him. 

the tall male looked at his phone, the screen showing a picture of you sleeping. he traced your features through the phone with a loving sigh and quickly stuffed it back to his pocket. he whistled a small tune under his breath on his way back home, his thoughts filled with you. 

suna walked inside his apartment, shrugging his shoulders to loosen the tight muscles. he groaned in annoyance when his shoes got stuck on his foot but quickly shook it off. the moment he was in his bedroom, he removed his shirt and plopped down on the bed, opening his phone again. 

in his phone, there was a whole album of you. sleeping, eating, at the gym, when you were at the library. suna also opened one of the files in his phone as sounds of you breathing when you were sleeping echoed in the room. 

a small moan escaped the phone, suna’s eyes shining slyly at the sound. oh how he wants to hear it in person. he wants to hear every lovely sound you can make. he wants to know everything about you. 

what type of weather do you like? do you like cereal at night like him? do you have a special place for cats in your heart like he does? do you hate heat like him? and do you like getting fucked so hard the only thing you can do is scream? 

suna sighed at the last thought as rapid images of what you would look like popped in his head. would you look pouty? would you cry? would you be quiet and shy? or would you moan like a bitch in heat? 

the familiar twitch in his sweats made suna antsy. a hand drifted to his pants to palm himself through the cloth. 

suna massaged his hardening cock through his pants, letting out sighs as he did so. your soft breathing from the phone was making him harder. he imagined you beside him, sleeping. looking so innocent and safe from all the vile things of the world. safe with him. 

your plump lips curled into a small pout as your brows furrows while you dream then waking up, needy for him. suna groaned and swiftly tugged his sweats and boxers off him. he spat on his hand, hissing when he started stroking his thick cock. drifting to the sensitive head of his cock, he massaged it with the slick spit as it ooze out pre-cum. 

he quickly coated his digits with the precum and slicked his twitching cock with it for the smooth friction he was craving. he panted at the feeling when he tightened his grip on his dick, trying to imagine your tight wet pussy instead. 

“s-shit, baby... feels so good’“ he slurred, closing his eyes to focus on the feeling of the tight grip, stroking himself to a slow rhythm. in his mind, he can see your pretty face. 

he can imagine you on top of him, rolling your hips slowly to not overstimulate yourself with his large cock inside of you. suna licked his lips, a small smirk appearing on his face as he imagined the cute little noises you made when you tried to fit him in you. 

his thick cock hitting so deeply inside you but oh how you like it, you slut. you’d look so gorgeous, moaning on top of him, hands on his chest whilst you ride him. 

“r-rintarou” he can hear your lewd voice calling out, your breath getting heavier with each stroke of his cock, dragging in your tight wet walls. your big doe eyes filled with tears as you look down at him, trying to get some help from him to fuck you good already.

he cursed when he felt a familiar band trying to snap in his lower stomach, his hand getting faster. wet slapping sounds echoed in the room along with your soft breathing on his phone. his violent and aggressive movements were getting him closer to his release. 

this is how he wants it to be. him fucking you so violently making you cry, hands gripping you tight that your pretty skin would bloom with violets and blue. 

he can already see it, how your tongue will roll out your pretty lips whilst you get fucked so hard that all you can do is lay and scream for him, your soulmate. your other half. you belong to him. 

“ha-ah-!” suna groaned deeply when his release hit him, thick warm cum hit his clenching abs as the spiraling pleasure made him shiver. his hand pumping his dick fast to ride his orgasm, his chest heaving deep pants. the male gulped down, trying to wet his dry throat as he slowly calmed down. lazy yellow eyes stared up in the white ceiling of his bed. 

he needs you. he wants to feel you. he wants to be with you. now. 

you sighed as you walked home to your apartment, it has been a week since your crazy soulmate tried to bother you in accepting him and it was making you jumpy. his eyes just showed so much when you last saw him that it made you paranoid with every movement that was happening around you. 

you entered your room, exhaling a deep breath of relief as you felt the warm air of your safe home. it was nice to be in your apartment again. no one to bother you. safe from the crazy man that suddenly stopped messing with you. 

after shrugging off your coat, you enter your kitchen to get a glass of water. all the overthinking about the mess that fate got you into was making your head hurt. as you greedily gulped down the water to soothe your dry throat, a movement from the dark living room made you choke on it. 

“shit” you cursed and looked at the wet floor. you put the glass down and looked at the dark living room, trying to catch any movement. you then quietly went to the knives beside you and grabbed one, walking cautiously through the room. you flickered the lights on, ready to strike if something attacked you, but as the lights went on, you sighed in relief when you saw no one. 

you let your hand drop beside you, rolling your eyes at yourself at the paranoia. you cursed the man that did this. now you were overthinking stuff and seeing shadows.

when you were about to turn around, a large hand covered your mouth and tightly gripped your wrist that held the knife, making it clunk to the floor as you screamed but the hand muffled it. 

“stop fuckin moving already.. you’re gonna just tire yourself” the familiar voice made your body stiff, your blood went cold. crying against his hand when you felt his lips touch your ear, teeth grazing it. 

“you’re so pretty” he cooed, his voice heavy and slow. tears pricked your eyes as you struggled against his hold but the tall man was obviously stronger than you being an athlete. you tried to stomp on his feet but the man nudged you forward with his weight as you two tumbled into the couch. 

you can feel the vibration of his chuckle as his chest was against your back. you heard him sigh and a small grind on your ass was enough to make you feel disgusted and dirty. 

“i apologize for this next action, (y/n)” suna muttered beside your eyes and he leaned back, quickly turning you around. before you could even scream, pain blossomed on your cheek. your vision turned blurry at the impact, dizzy.

this motherfucker just punched you. you faced him again and spat the blood on his face, your lip busted as well. “f-fuck you!”

suna growled at your actions but quickly smirked, wiping away the bloody spit on his eye while he held you down. 

“a tough one~ i like that” he whispered and you could feel a hard nudge on your inner thigh making you grimace. this man was fucked up... he just got hard from punching you and you fighting back-

suna smirking down at you was the last thing you remember then everything went dark.

the room was cold. and your limbs ached with each movement you did. you opened your eyes and panic hit you when you couldn’t see anything. you tried to call out but there was a gag on your mouth. 

you cried through the gag, you cursed everything. you hate fate for getting you into this mess. you curse soulmates bonds, you were right. soulmates are a bunch of bullshit. just look at where that ended you up in. most importantly, you hate him. if you can, you’ll kill him on the spot. 

the fucking psychopath. your soulmate. 

you bit the cloth on your mouth as the binds on your eyes got wet from the tears that escaped from your eyes. your feelings were a mess and all you could feel is anger, shame, and dread. 

“oh, you’re awake. that’s good. i thought i hit you harder than i intended to, thank god that you’re okay” you heard the familiar voice that you loathe. you growled through your gag but suna could only laugh at your pathetic attempt of dominance when you’re gagged, blindfolded, and tied to the bed. 

“now now, no need for that. we want to get along, don’t we” he muttered, walking closer to you and sat on the bed, beside you. 

you flinched when you felt his weight beside you and his hands caressed your cheek. you whimpered at the dull pain when he touches your cheek. this fucker touched where he punched you--

“that looked like it’ll bruise” you growled again at his words. you wanted to scream at him. hit him. make him feel the pain of what he did to you. 

your fussing about stopped and you stiffened when you felt him shift on top of you, going in between your legs. you tried to close your legs but his hands were faster than you. 

he maneuvered you like a doll he owns, fixing you into a position he liked. suna gazed at your tied-up body, his cock already starting to harden in his pants. he wants to touch you already. 

his hand went up and tugged your blindfold as he smiled at your dazed look that changed to a mean one. suna chuckled at your spirit. it was making him excited. 

“you’re too cute, love” he muttered, leaning closer to your neck and nuzzled into you, taking in your scent loudly making you flinch in dread. 

“you smell so sweet,” he said against your neck, an unconscious shiver running up your body. suna smirked when he felt it and continued to nuzzle his face in your neck. his hands touching and groping your body while you growled through the gag but he barely even paid attention to it, too caught up at the feeling of finally touching you and being with you. 

“i wanna taste you~” he whispered lewdly, looking deep into your eyes with a smirk. your eyes widened at his words and mustered up all the strength you had and hit his head against yours. 

you were disoriented after it but it was worth it when you heard his curse as he leaned away. your forehead was red you were sure and it’ll bruise with how hard his head was. 

“you bitch-!” your moment of victory was cut off when large hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing it. you choked, wriggling around to get away from suna but he leaned all his weight on top of you. 

he glared down at you, watching with sick satisfaction when your eyes slowly fluttered close and your struggling gradually ceased. suna can snap your neck right now if he wants to. the power he has over you almost made him drool, his cock twitching excitedly in his pants.

he let your neck go, heart beating fast when he saw finger marks on your neck, the shape of his hands on your skin. he watched you cough and try to inhale air, desperately. 

suna then grasped your chin in a tight hold and turned you to face him, making your dazed eyes look up at him, “do that again and i’ll make you bleed.” 

he let your chin go harshly and climbed off you, going out of the room. you gulped and intake the precious air, looking at the door with fear and anger. 

being with suna was an absolute nightmare. you don’t know how long it has been since the psycho kidnapped you and it was agitating. you fought back but suna liked it because it gave him the excuse to hurt you. you knew this but you just can’t give him the satisfaction he craved of you submitting to him. 

your body was slumped into the bed whilst you cried as suna ate you out. his fingers pumping viciously in and out of you, tongue lapping on your swollen clit. he denied you 4 orgasms already and your body was so sensitive from it. 

“just fucking accept this already!” suna growled against your pussy, the vibrations sending violent shivers in your body. you writhe and keened, your body in his mercy. 

you shook your head, tears streaming down your red and bruised cheeks. your neck was decorated with purple and red, bite marks and fingerprints alike. your wrists red and raw from the rope he used on you constantly.

“n-no!” 

suna rolled his eyes at your disobedience but let you be. he knows you’ll be his good girl sooner or later. he just has to try harder, he guesses. 

he sucked on your clit messily, tonguing your wetness. his fingers caressing your walls as he hit your g-spot making you arch your back. suna smirked and continued his ministrations, ignoring your pleading to let you cum already. 

he felt your walls clenching on his fingers as he stopped altogether making you cry in desperation. suna leaned on his feet, admiring the way your body tried to hump him to get the satisfaction of cumming. 

your body is so beautiful. before it was pristine and void of any marks and flaws but now your skin was decorated with purple and red courtesy of his love for you. 

“you really wanna do this, (y/n)? you rather be a bad girl than be my precious girl?” suna tried to reason with you, his tone was as if he was talking to a child. you scowled at him, “fuck you, asshole!” 

suna’s eyes turned dark at it. one thing he can’t tolerate was you saying such crude and bad words. he raised his hand and slapped you, the force of it made you turn to the side as you gasped at the pain. 

blood dripped from your nose. suna then grabbed your cheeks, squeezing. he glared down at you. “when will you learn... and here i thought you were smarter than that” 

you cried at the pain of his grip on your face and the sting of his slap was still there as his fingers pressed down to the bruises you had on your face. he shook your head, growling, “what do you say when you do something wrong” 

he continued to shake you, your aching limbs hurt at the violent movements. you whimpered and unconsciously replied, “i’m sorry-!” 

suna stopped and removed his hands from you. you looked up at him with teary eyes and saw him smiling softly at you. his mood swings were scary. you don’t really know what type of suna you’ll get before it’s too late... 

“atta girl...” he muttered and started to remove his pants. you panicked at his actions and tried to move away but the painful slap on your thigh was enough to make you stop. 

“now, let me fuck you” 

suna grabbed your ankle and pulled you down on the bed further, closer to him. he pumped his cock at the sight of you, so pretty and crying

“rintarou please-! d-don’t!” you cried, feeling so helpless and all your fire from earlier and the past days gone. the dark-haired male grinned at your sobbing and fussing about. 

“tsk. be a good girl, (y/n). just accept it.” he leaned closer to you, whispering against your wobbly lips. his dark yellow eyes stared straight into yours, lust swirling around his orbs. your body shook in fear and a small cry leaving your swollen lips. 

in one swift movement, suna entered you. he captured your lips, muffling your screams because of him suddenly entering you. the wet squishing noises were triggering your tears. you felt disgusted with yourself that you were enjoying the stretch and the feeling of being filled up by this psycho. 

maybe in another world where you two have met differently. a perfect world where things weren’t complicated. if you two worked it out and things were different then maybe you’ve actually loved him and accepted him as your soulmate. but not in this world. not now. 

you cried when suna started moving, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. your body arched on the bed, feeling the pleasure. suna panted above you, arms caging you and his muscles contracting with every movement he does. 

suna cursed at the feeling, it felt so good. you feel so good. your wet and squishy walls sucking him so eagerly. the lewd sounds of your wetness and his constant thrusting was making him more excited. 

he stopped for a moment, pulling out from your pussy to put you in all fours and then entered you again when he moved you the way he likes. suna groaned, fucking deep into you. his tip grazing your cervix making you squeal. you can feel your orgasm coming faster because of the orgasms suna denied you earlier. you sobbed, hips unconsciously thrusting back to his dick. 

the male chuckled breathily, sneaking a hand between your legs to play with your swollen clit. you choked on a moan when you felt him massaging your clit. you let your head plop down to the mattress, arms wobbly, and all you could do was moan as your body jerking at the pleasure suna was giving you. 

“oh honey, you should see how slutty your body gets when i’m fucking you” he snickered behind you, hips never relenting with his fast and hard thrusts. 

you felt tears trail down your bruised cheeks, you don’t know if it’s because of the shame you felt earlier or the pleasure. the fast circles suna gave your clit made you whine and moan as you felt your orgasm wash over you. 

you howled at the satisfying feeling of the violent orgasm, finally cumming after the torture of not coming four times earlier. suna smirked at the way your body convulsed beneath him. 

the unwavering fucking from behind was sending you to overstimulation and suna’s fingers still rubbed down your sensitive clit. you whined and keened, drool slipping past your lips. 

“so fucked out” suna muttered and bent to lean against your back, his dick twitching in your wet walls. he then angled his thrust differently making you gasp. 

he leaned back again, staring at your sweaty discolored back, from his bites from the past fun times you two had, and the way you leaned against the pillows as your pretty face contorting into a fucked out expression, so lewd.

a large hand trailed down to the back of your neck, grabbing it and letting you lean against suna’s chest. his hand then wrapped around your dainty neck, squeezing, as he felt the vibrations of your moans. 

“pretty baby~” 

his other hand gripped your hips, stilling your wiggling around as he fucked into your harder at the newly changed angle. you whimpered at the way his thick cock reached so deep into you. 

suna moaned beside your ear, hips slowly losing his rhythm as he chased his own orgasm. his self-control snapping into something greedy and feral. he ignored your cries and fucked you so he can finally cum. 

the way he used you wasn’t supposed to feel this good. although he didn’t have any intention to make you feel good, the way his dick stuffed your full and the way his thickness stretched you was made you feel the familiar band in your stomach trying to snap once again.

he unconsciously squeezed your neck, breath heavy, when he felt his orgasm getting closer. he growled, thrusting sloppily in you, the sounds of your wetness echoed in the room along with your broken moans and rasps. you can feel him twitching inside you sending you into another orgasm.

you screamed, body arching against suna. the way your pussy squeezed him and the feeling of you cumming again triggered his own. suna moaned, painting your insides with his cum as he rode his orgasm, ignoring your whining. 

he panted, removing his hold on you and letting you hit and slump unto the bed. you whined at the action. suna pulled out of you as he admired the way your pussy was filled with his cum, dripping down to your thighs and down to the sheets. he licked his lips at the sight and leaned closer to you as if he was lured in. 

you gasped and cried when you felt his tongue wiggling around your sensitive pussy. you squeezed your eyes close tightly, body shivering at the overstimulation but suna barely paid any attention to you. he only wanted to satisfy his desires.

you gazed at the plain ceiling, dully. the soft breathing of the insane male beside you was making you grimace. he just finished fucking you or what he calls, “soulmate bonding time” but all he did was make you cry. 

the sun was up and it was probably noon now but suna normally sleeps in and today was no exception. the phone beside suna’s side on the table started buzzing, circling a little because of the vibration. you heard suna groaned, always the light sleeper. you quickly closed your eyes and hid your face in the covers and pillows. 

you felt the male shifting and after a while, he started talking in his annoyingly attractive deep voice. sleep taking a toll in his vocal cords making it all husky. you internally cursed the soulmate bond trying to make you see him in another light or some bullshit like that.

“hey, what’s up?” 

you continued to listen to the one-sided conversation as you pretend to be asleep. your heart skipped a beat when you heard suna’s words. 

“yeah, come over. i’ll introduce you to her” 

your body stiffened but tried to relax. maybe this was your chance to expose him. you have to try something, you can’t keep letting him do these things to you... 

a soft sleepy groan, the sound someone makes when they stretch, rung inside the quiet room. the covers shifted a bit and a disgustingly familiar body heat hit your skin as two large hands caressed your skin. 

“baby? i’m gonna introduce you to my friends, that’s okay right? it’s time i show off my pretty baby~” you heard him coo. you bit your lip, how can this man act like your relationship with him is normal... you then became painfully aware of the bruises and scars on your body making you self-conscious as you tried to make yourself smaller. 

“they’ll see all of these” he whispered sweetly with a dazed look on his eyes as he traced the marks that were in purple-y and reddish hues that it was too nauseating to look at but suna thought it was so beautiful on you.

suna spent all afternoon dolling you up, fixing your short dress that shows every mark he gave you. your eyes looked at your reflection. you teared up at the sight. you didn’t look like yourself anymore... 

tired eyes that sagged with dark bags under it. a deep purple bruise on your cheek. your bottom lip was cut from suna’s slap, neck decorated with hickeys and fingerprints, skin discolored.

the man behind you started whistling the godforsaken tune he always sang under his breath as he combed your hair. after fixing your hair, he let his hands down on your shoulders and looked at you through the mirror. 

“ain’t you a pretty little thing...” he muttered, admiring you. you let your gaze shift down to your lap as the male carried you to the living room. 

“now behave.” his word was final as always. do not question it nor do you go against it. or he’ll hurt you... again and again...

a loud voice cut through the quiet atmosphere in the apartment and impatient knocks was heard. “suna! open the damn door, already!” 

the dark-haired male sighed and went to the door. your heart started beating a little too fast. when his guests see you, or your state, you’ll get away from here... or maybe he’ll hurt them too... you shook your head. trying to stay positive so you can get out of this hellhole.

a tall man with golden dyed locks entered the room along with someone who looked similar to him though their hair was different. honey brown eyes lock with your tired ones, you were hopeful when you saw the confusion in his eyes. 

the man looked back to suna who stood next to him, you knew you were saved when the two identical men glared at him but then they started talking--

“geez! here i thought you’ll be gentler now that you met your soulmate!”

“suna? gentle? like hell. now where’s the food. you promised me food, suna” 

your eyes got teary as you suppressed a gasp. of course, his friends were as insane as he was. 

the golden haired male then smiled at you like there was nothing wrong. like he doesn’t see all the fucking bruises on your body, “hey, darlin’~ suna’s been beating you, huh? were you misbehaving~?” 

suna growled at the man and shoved him, “shut the fuck up, atsumu” the two started bickering like everything was normal as they ignored you...

you sniffled and turned to the light nudged from your side, you looked at the other male that entered the apartment. the man offered you some pudding as a spoon was hanging from his lips. “you look like you need it, miss” he said, his face unfazed. 

you took the pudding with shaking hands and lowered your head as the three men walked around the room, conversing with each other. 

maybe, suna’s right... life would be easier if you just accepted him. you were stuck with him now and always and his name on your skin will forever be the reminder of that. 

fate has a weird way of pairing people up and you can’t do anything about it. 

[oddaodd]

can you make one where the reader is the youngest maid in Tommy's house and she's helping serve the dinner for christmas and taking care of the kids and in some point Finn gets closer to her and try to flirt with her (she's just a few years older than him) and the reader don't know how to react but Tommy comes and help her (because he already likes the reader but don't get too close because she's too young for him) and by the end of the night when everybody is sleeping and they have sex

· A Whimsical Tale · 

Author’s note: I know we are no longer near Christmas but I love living a dangerous life so I’m just going to post this now.  

 Anddd I loved writing this story so thanks for requesting! and as always, I hope everyone has a lovely day. ❤️

Warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol and a drunken Finn. 

·

Christmas Day was a heavy day on Arrow House and despite the numerous staff, there was always something to be done. Y/n was one of the youngest maids so she was never the one in charge of cooking and preparing dinner, instead she helped pour drinks and look over the children, which Y/n was thankful for since it didn’t require as much elbow grease as cooking for an abundance of people.  

“More wine Tomm...” she caught her mistake and made it up clearing her throat “Mr. Shelby?”

“Thank you, Y/n” He politely answered pretending he hadn’t heard her almost call him Tommy.

Y/n poured the wine with shaky hands hoping that nobody  had noticed her mistake and blushing cheeks. She knew Tommy didn’t mind her calling him by his name when they were alone, but she wasn’t sure if he would still be as lax on the topic if there were other people present.

As she poured some for Ada, Polly gave her nephew a knowing stare that indicated she had noticed and knew what it implied, which triggered complex emotions in Tommy.

He enjoyed Y/n’s company when she served him breakfast and lit the chimney in his office and when sometimes she engaged in conversation with him. She told him everything about her life, whimsical tales of mundane occurrences that sounded worthy of a novel. He wondered what kind of character he played in it.

He would be lying if he were to say that he only enjoyed having her around because she was good at her job. Truth was, Tommy felt infatuated with her and her bubbly smile and occasional kind words when he was feeling the world closing in, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it because she was much younger than him.

Y/n threw occasional smiles at Tommy through the night. She helped entertain the children while the other adults drank and enjoyed the evening. As the night progressed the alcohol began taking tolls, calling some to bed and inciting some others to questionable actions.

“Do you maybe want to go out sometime? Came Finn’s voice while Y/n tidied up around the kitchen.  

“Excuse me?” She asked even though she had heard him loud and clear.

“We should go out sometime” Finn spoke again in boozy confidence

“Um...” she began with an amused smile that disguised her discomfort for she wished the one asking were a different Shelby.

As if summoned by mention in a passing thought,  Tommy’s deep voice interrupted whatever excuse she was  machinating.

“Leave her be, Finn”

“But I’m not doing anything, Tom” he complained in a slur.

“You’re making a fool of yourself Finn” interrupted Arthur before dragging Finn away and out of the kitchen.

She didn’t miss the way Tommy’s eyes lingered on her figure before he left the room after his brothers.

After a while everybody including all the maids had gone to bed, Y/n stayed behind to have a cup of tea in the kitchen so she could mull over her feelings for Tommy in peace.

She had been attracted to him since her arrival to arrow house, but what began like a stupid crush soon turned into more complex feelings. She was always looking forward to seeing him and talking to him at late hours of the night at his office when he couldn’t sleep. She had tried not to think too much into his stares and considerate actions, but her infatuation with him had reached a point in which she couldn’t pretend not to notice.

She wanted his actions to hide a deeper meaning and she believed they did, but she felt her reasoning was tainted by her own wants. Tommy was significantly older than her and she felt immature in comparison.

“I knew you’d still be here”

She knew he would come.

She looked up from her teacup to the kitchen door to see Tommy strolling in. She forced a smile and shoved all her thoughts about him aside.

“Want a cup?” She signaled to the teapot as Tommy leaned against a cupboard.

“Alright” he said and Yn poured him a cup. His eyes following her every move. Her features seemed to be highlighted by the moonlight flowing in through the window making her look more divine than ever despite the tiredness hiding in her movements.

She felt an old wave of nerves creeping up her spine, making her heart beat faster and she didn’t know why. It wasn’t the first time Tommy and her were alone together, but that night’s air weighed differently.  

“Im sorry about Finn” he commented while she poured the tea.

“Its alright” she spoke softly walking towards him “Thanks for coming to my rescue”

Tommy’s mouth curved into a small smile, the way it did whenever she was around.

“Anytime” he said

“You are staring” she commented when she handed him the cup, noticing his gaze.

Tommy hummed taking a sip of his tea before placing it on the counter behind him, not even attempting to deny her accusation. “You look beautiful”

Her cheeks turned a soft shade of scarlet and her heartbeat quickened at his words. She wasn’t expecting him to say that. Still, she couldn’t help but smile at his honest complement.

Feeling comforted by the intimacy that the kitchen late at night provided, he cupped her face as leaned close to her lips. Y/n  did the same in a heartbeat and when their lips came together she felt a thousand matches lighting up inside her body.

She melted into the kiss as it turned more passionate, Tommy’s hands went to her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“Tell me to stop” he murmured against her lips.

“God no” she murmured back.

Tommy felt reassured knowing that she had wanted this just as badly as him and let himself get lost in the  soft moans and blissful sighs he coaxed from her with his wandering tongue and expert hands.  

Y/N hadn’t noticed Tommy began leading her to the table until she felt the cold surface against her lower back. Tommy prompted her up on it and smoothly hitched up her skirt. He ran his index finger teasingly along her clothed folds earning a whine from her pretty lips.

“Take them off Tommy” she pleaded.

Tommy complied and slid her underwear off her legs, his mind clouding at the sight of her, needy and wet in front of him. He kneeled in front of her and spread her legs open with his hands sending shivers through her body. Y/n felt her stomach drop in expectation at the sight of his handsome face close to her cunt.

“Tommy, ple..” Her place came short at the feeling of warm tongue on her sex. A teasing lick first that soon developed into passionate wet strokes and kisses  lapping against her folds and teasing at her entrance.

Her fingers tangled on his dark hair as she became a withering mess, submissive to Tommys experienced tongue. she felt her arousal building up, bringing her closer and close to the edge with each lick. She couldn’t get enough of him but she was eager to have him in her so bad.

“I need you inside me”

Tommy looked up at her with teasing eyes, her juices glistering on his chin and lips and when she felt the absence of his tongue on her she almost regretted being so impatient. But Tommy didn’t give her time to dwell on that regret when he went to passionately kiss her again and she felt his bulge through his trousers against her bare entrance.

Her impatient hands went to fumble with the buttons that held the basted trousers in place and Tommys went to assist her moments after, never breaking apart from the searing kiss, Y/n got a glimpse of Tommy’s cock and she felt like gasping when she felt Tommy guiding his head to tease at her entrance.

She moaned at the feeling and gasped when he pushed into her.

“So fucking tight” he whispered to her ear.

She sighed lewdly at his sinful praise and when he was fully inside her she felt so sinfully full she wondered how she could have lived for so long without this feeling.

She held onto his broad shoulders as he started pumping in and out of her, teasingly slow at first and speeding up deliciously with each thrust.

The table started creaking under her and the teacup and cup she had put there earlier fell off at their movements, loudly crashing onto the floor. She felt a twinge of concern about the noise, trying to break through the dense cloud of pleasure Tommy had summoned around her. However, Said concern became less and less concerning with each thrust of Tommy’s. It was the stuff of dreams.

He felt her clenching around his cock telling her that she was close. He wanted to make her cum, he needed to make her cum.  

He began rubbing circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves and soon after she came beautifully. Her legs tightened around his waist wanting to keep him close, still reeling in the aftershock of her orgasm as Tommy chased his own, which came not long after with a groan of her name. The expression of his face as he came into her was one Y/n knew would never leave her mind.

“What if somebody heard us?” She whispered as she collected her discarded garments with a smile.

“I hope they heard. Maybe that way Finn will know better next time”

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz

[dumdumsun]

And Dusk

A/N: Just a heads up, the sensitive content in this chapter will be marked "<<<<<<" as the beginning and ">>>>>>" to signify the end. The racial slurs used in this chapter were targeted towards African Americans (and still are) and I chose these because I, myself, am African American and used them as a sort of “default” for any POC readers. ⚠️Please, never use these towards anyone. Whether it be in a “joking” manner or not. They are hurtful and were created to be that way⚠️ I wrote this chapter the way I did to bring awareness. Proceed with caution. Much love ❤️

Warnings: ⚠️racial slurs⚠️, violence, mentions of guns and dying/death

Word Count: 3707

—————————————

Chapter 3: The Frankel Footage

Shaking himself out of his shock, Five stood from his seat and hurried after his brother, grabbing onto his arm and stopping his strides. “The hell is wrong with you, Luther? I just told you the world’s gonna end in ten days!”

“Yeah, well, you’re always saying that.” Luther nonchalantly spoke before moving away, but Five intervened yet again.

“And so far, I’ve been right.” He hissed as Luther sighed and shook his head.

“Look, you want to go save the world? Knock yourself out, alright? I already got a job.”

“Wait, you work in this shithole?” The boy furrowed his brows.

“Yeah. Well, my boss owns the place,” Luther only received a nod from his brother, so he clarified. “I’m his body man.”

But this only made Five even more confused. “What’s that? Like, a masseuse or something?”

“Okay, you can make fun all you want, but I take good care of Mr Ruby.”

“Wait, Ruby. The Jack Ruby? The gangster who shot Oswald.”

Despite Five’s concern, Luther proudly smiled a smug smile as he glanced over at his boss. “Yeah. The one and only.”

“Well, it finally happened,” Five sighed. “That gorilla DNA has finally taken over your mind-”

“Hey, watch it, alright? Jack’s a good friend-”

“And you’re Number One. Numero Uno. Remember?”

Luther clenched his jaw and shook his head. “There is no Number One. Not anymore. Not in 1963,” When Five stared at him in disbelief, Luther sighed again. “Look, I’ve been stranded here alone for a year. What did you expect?”

Five scoffed. “I get it, alright? You watched Pogo die, the world exploded, and I marooned your big dumb ass in time. I’m sorry, okay? But I’m asking for your help, Luther. The Umbrella Academy needs you.”

“It doesn’t need me,” He slowly spoke to draw out his words. “It never did.”

“Luther, honey,” The waitress from earlier approached the two. “Jack’s about to lose it on some half-wit. A little help?”

“Ah, shit,” He groaned and began walking away. When Five tried yet again to stop him, he whirled on him, his lips pulled into a thin line. “Listen. You’re the genius who said we should jump, right? You’re the one who got us stuck here. And you’re the one who brought Vanya. So, if there is a doomsday coming, she’s probably the cause. And if I was gonna do something about it, it sure as hell is not gonna be with you. That’s (Y/N)’s job, being dragged around into your messes-”

“I don’t drag her into anything.” Five swallowed, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah? Well, she wasn’t stuck as a thirteen-year-old and constantly worrying about her kids until you showed up. I’m surprised she isn’t sick of you yet.” And with that, he stomped away to his boss. This time, Five let him go, his words sending a pang through his chest as he thought back on it. Grabbing his drink, he sighed and shook his head.

“Dad should’ve left him on the moon…” He muttered, taking a sip of his drink before moving to leave his seat. When he felt his jacket snag on something, he looked down to see an object in his pocket. Taking out the tape, he frowned and turned it over.

Date: 11/22/63

Subject: FRANKEL FOOTAGE

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

This world was unfamiliar to (Y/N). She knew she had to have been somewhere in America, but she didn’t know where. The cars, fashion and stores bringing the street she walked to life told her she had to have been in the sixties. But she didn’t want to believe it. Surely Five hadn’t time travelled that far? She had to have been dropped during some type of sixties-theme festival. But the voices suddenly beside her quickly prove her doubts wrong.

“What do we have here?”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a lost little colored girl.”

Tensing, (Y/N) continued her way down the sidewalk, slightly speeding up her pace, but the men fell into step beside her with ease, flanking her sides.

“You’re on the wrong side of town, girl.”

“Yeah, we don’t like coons around here.” One of them hissed right in her ear. Her eyes welled up with tears before the other shoved her forward.

“Gon now, get!” He ordered as if she were a dog. She realized that’s how they had seen her. An animal. Nothing more. Tripping on a crack in the sidewalk, she fell to the ground, smacking her face on the concrete. She choked out a sob as the two men cackled. And to make matters even worse, she felt the pitter patter of raindrops start to freeze her skin.

(Y/N) gasped out in shock when the men spit two wads of saliva in her face. She knew she must’ve looked a mess with spit and tears sliding down her cheeks and blood oozing from her nose. She hiccupped on her sobs and began to stand, much too tired from her previous fight with Vanya and literally being dropped from the sky to successfully do so. The men backed her up against a wall and one fisted the front of her vest before a voice called out.

“Take your hands off of my child!” Whipping around, the men were half expecting to find another target, but (Y/N) coughed and sputtered nonsense upon the person her gaze fell upon.

“M-Mom…?”

Before her was Grace, but… she wasn’t robotic in any sense. She could tell by the raw anger etched into her features. She took a brave step forward. “I said. Take your hands. Off my child.”

And that was another thing: her accent. (Y/N) was immediately comforted by the stern southern accent the woman shared with her attackers. It was a voice she never thought she needed. The two looked between Grace and (Y/N) with smirks. “You mean this lil ol’ jigaboo-”

“Is my daughter. Now you let her go before I call the police.”

“Woman, I don’t care if you call the police-”

Grace took it upon herself to step closer and grab the child by her arms, yanking her into her warm embrace. (Y/N) immediately latched onto her, quivering in her hold. The men scoffed and shook their heads, beginning to walk away. “Make sure to keep that thing on a leash if you’re gonna have it out, ma’am.”

“Oh, fuck off.” She growled before turning and walking back in the direction the girl came from. As they walked past the alleyway, Grace took out a handkerchief and began wiping the girl’s face clean of what the raindrops hadn’t already washed away. “It’s alright, hun, they aren’t gonna hurt you anymore.”

“T-Thank you.” (Y/N) sobbed and gently held her nose in pain. Grace crouched in front of her and gently held her face in between her hands.

“Don’t thank me, darlin’, it’s how everyone should be treatin’ you ‘round here… Where are your parents? I could take you to ‘em.”

(Y/N) thought for a long moment, watching as the rain soaked Grace’s hair and clothing. The woman didn’t seem to mind as she watched the girl before her swallowing thickly. (Y/N) skimmed over her current choices. She didn’t have any choice.

“I don’t have parents. I-I don’t remember them…”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

“I’m tellin’ you, Reggie, she’s highly intelligent for a child her age.” Grace proudly presented (Y/N) to the man she had grown fond of over their time working together. (Y/N), however, was frozen in her spot. Sir Reginald Hargreeves. The man whose death she had wished upon for years, whose death had finally graced her existence, was back in her life. She flinched at the disapproving look on his face, much too acquainted with it by this point in her life. “And she’s very respectful. Talented, too, this girl can speak several languages.”

“You seem rather fond of this child.” The man observed as Grace squeezed her into her side.

“She’s my pride and joy.”

“And you cannot remember anything of your past, child?”

“N-No,” (Y/N) shook her head and stared down. “Not a lot. J-Just my name and birthday.”

Reginald hummed and stared her down with an unreadable expression. When she met his eyes again, he was crouched down to her level, his monocle clutched in his fist. “(Y/N), was it?”

“Yes.”

“It would be an honor to have your presence within my home, along with your mother.”

“O-Oh, that’s okay-”

“I insist. Besides, you have been living with her for almost half a year, correct? It is highly unlikely that she will share a home without you.”

“He’s right about that, hun,” (Y/N) glanced up at Grace, who was smiling warmly at her. “I’m not leavin’ you.”

(Y/N) could have cried.

And she did.

One year later, (Y/N) had been living quite the comfortable life with Grace and Reginald. She had been introduced to the ape, Pogo, for the second time since Grace first started working with him. As much as she loved being around the chimp, it brought back so many memories. She almost felt silly, looking after him sometimes knowing he had done the same for her in the original timeline.

Her relationship with Reginald was nothing she ever expected. He was gentle, well as gentle as Reginald Hargreeves could get, he cared for her, spoiled her, even. She wouldn’t have to ask for anything half the time. If he were to overhear a conversation between her and Grace about a dress she oh-so wanted, it would suddenly be laid out on her bed the next day. She usually had a say in dinner meals every Thursday and Sunday and Reginald listened intently whenever she would voice any discomfort or concerns with her living conditions. (Y/N) never had a real father, but she assumed this is what it was like to have one. She never wanted to let go of it.

For her birthday in 1963, she was surprised that he had actually gotten her a present. As she entered the parlor, she was met with the tiniest bark and an even tinier golden retriever, bounding up to her. She gasped and stopped low, letting him jump into her arms. She let him lick her face and giggled in the joy it brought her.

“Your mother said you would like it. Though I would never allow dogs in my house, I have come to understand that there are rules I must bend for you, my child.”

(Y/N) turned to her father. Yes, father. Reginald, also growing quite fond of their father-daughter bond formed between them, decided to adopt the girl. As much as his beliefs and his deep distaste for children protested. There was just something about this child. Or perhaps it was Grace’s insisting, reassuring him that he would make a wonderful father. (Y/N) was very hesitant at first for her own reasons she never shared, but eventually came around to the idea of being his daughter again.

This was the same Reginald Hargreeves who locked her in a dark room for five days straight, but also an entirely different man. Perhaps it was her fascination with the differences, or maybe she just wanted a real father for once.

“Thank you, Dad.” She softly smiled, the man nodding in response.

“But this is your pet, (Y/N). It is your responsibility. I will not find it in my study, in my bedroom, you are to train it yourself-”

“Can you-”

“And no, I will not help you pick out its name.”

The girl softly groaned and looked back down at her new puppy. Looking into its eyes, she smiled softly at a distant memory as a small child.

“Welcome to the family, Mr Pennycrumb.”

-------------------------------------------------

(Y/N) groaned when she felt the sunbeams of the early morning sunrise hit her eyelids, coloring her black vision with the stinging fire of orange. Rolling onto her other side, she stretched her blanket over her head. They were yanked away the next second, causing a whine to leave her lips. “Mom… Five more minutes.”

“I let you sleep in long enough, hun, it’s time to get up. You have a date with Preston this afternoon.” Grace gently pulled her daughter to sit up, giggling quietly at her look of disgust.

“Preston? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously, let’s get goin’.” Grace patted her leg and walked to her door, waiting patiently. (Y/N) sighed and rubbed her face, letting her feet slide into her slippers. As they descended the stairs to the kitchen for breakfast, Reginald could hear his daughter’s sleepy complaining from his place at the table.

Setting his utensils down, he turned his head in their direction. “My child, how many times throughout each week must we have to repeat this conversation?”

“Until it starts making sense.” (Y/N) stepped into the dining room, now in her robe, and crossed her arms over her chest. Reginald sighed and stood from his chair at the table.

“You are one of my greatest accomplishments,” He began towards her. “There is no doubt in my mind that you would make a fine successor. I do not believe you will need a husband. In fact, you would be better off without another individual holding you back from what you are truly capable of.”

“But?” She raised a brow.

“But… I have grown to know you more than I expected… and I know that you would need someone to help manage your finances you inherit once I am gone. Preston is a fine young man who was born into this life, made into this life. He will take good care of you.”

(Y/N) knew there was only one person in this world who would truly take good care of her. But he wasn’t here, and she needed to play the part as the amnesiac adopted daughter, so she huffed and nodded. “Fine… I’ll go…”

“Thank you-”

“But only if Mr Pennycrumb can go, too.”

“Very well, but you will not be gifted another animal if you lose it.”

The outing wasn’t entirely bad. (Y/N) didn’t mind the picnic or the art museum, it was the company that made her blood boil. Preston is anything she would have expected out of him. This had been their seventh date, tenth of the ones he planned. (Y/N) sought out any opportunity she could to cancel on him to save herself from the unbearable three hours she would have to spend with the kid. He was arrogant, smug, selfish, narcissistic, and overbearing. Of course, this was not the Preston he presented to her parents. No, to them, Preston was ‘a fine man with a bright future ahead of him’, or as Grace would put it, ‘a delight to have around’. He laughed like a drunk, talked like a husband, and smelled like a man. All at the age of fifteen. (Y/N) had to remind herself on several occasions that she was mentally the older out of the two and to not stoop to his level when he got under her skin.

“Don’t you think, (Y/N)?” The voice brought her attention back to the boy beside her. She looked up from the grass they had been strolling through. When she hummed in question, he amusedly scoffed and side-step closer to her. “Never mind. I should have known you wouldn’t have been interested in politics.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The girl raised a brow. At her confusion, he laughed and gently tapped the side of his head.

“You’ve always got that head of yours in the clouds. Or turned behind you- like right now.”

(Y/N) turned her head away from where she had been looking over her shoulder. “What? Sorry, Preston, I’m a little preoccupied today.”

“With what, exactly? You don’t seem to be the type of girl to have very many issues. Nothing to worry about.”

“And you wonder why I don’t listen to you.” She sighed as her puppy ran in between her legs, rolling in the grass once he was a few paces in front of them. Preston frowned in distaste and shook his head.

“You should really keep that thing on a leash, sweetheart.”

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, clenching her teeth as she folded her hands behind her back. “Really now?”

“Really. You know, I’m not very fond of dogs, so I’m not sure how it’ll work out once we’re married. I think we should get one after we have kids, you know? Just so the kids could grow up with it.”

(Y/N) quickly turned her head to the left, pointing out across the street. “Preston, would you look at that?”

“Look at what?” He gullibly looked in the direction, (Y/N) quickly checking the area before almost silently singing her tune. From her shadow, her clone formed and robotically walked behind the two. She quickly switched spots with it and ordered the clone to walk with Preston before scooping her puppy into her arms and rushing off in the opposite direction. Once she was behind a diner far away from their date location, she let out a sigh and gently patted her dog on the head.

“Were you sick of it, too?” She chuckled. Resting the back of her head against the brick wall she leaned on, she let out a slow breath and began to relax. The sound of guns cocking had her head snapping up so fast, she swore she could have dislocated it. Just down the end of the line of stores were three white-haired men, one in a milkman uniform, training their guns on her. (Y/N) didn’t waste a second tucking her dog in front of her and spinning around, charging down the opposite direction as bullets whizzed past her. She dodged them the best she could, jumping a few feet in the air at the ones that threatened to take their place in her feet. It was like a dance; the twisting, spinning and jumping, and she was to perform this dance until one of those bullets killed her if she didn’t find a way out soon. Sliding to the side of a clothing store for cover, she gently shushed her pet as she caught her breath.

The three sets of footsteps eventually found their destination and rounded the corner with skilled quickness, shooting at the girl until she was nothing more than a bloodied corpse on the ground, bullet holes lodged in almost every inch of her body. The three men nodded to each other and turned around, making their way out from behind the stores.

(Y/N) had already been down the street from her house by the time her attackers found the clone in her place. She couldn’t have been bothered to check herself for any wounds, too worried about Mr Pennycrumb’s potential bullet wounds. But the pup was perfectly, happily nuzzling into her arms and wagging his tail. This left (Y/N) to ponder.

Who the hell were those men?

-------------------------------------------------

“Is it on?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? There’s an ‘on’ button. Just- There’s something over- that jigga-ma-thing, whatever.”

“I hit the jigga-ma-thing!”

“Okay, well, just- Give it to me. I know how to do this.”

“Alright, here, here. Hurry up.”

“Okay, alright, let’s see…”

Lila didn’t look up from her task of painting poor Elliott’s toenails, his bindings he received after threatening the trio with a gun preventing him from moving too much. Which was beneficial to her, as it kept her from ruining the paint job. She softly smiled as she listened to the argument between the elderly couple on the film Five and Diego were intently watching. “They’re so cute,” She commented. “I love old couples. I’m always so proud of them for not murdering each other.”

Ignoring her, Diego turned to his brother from his seat on Elliott’s counter. “Why are we watching this?”

“Shush.” Five replied, eyes trained on the film before him, searching for any clue to the approaching apocalypse, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Yeah, I… I’m Dan Frankel. And…”

“I’m Edna Frankel.”

“...Edna Frankel. We are in Dallas, Texas, to see the president. Today’s date is November 22, 1963.”

Five nodded as everyone’s attention was brought to the projected screen before them.

“That’s six days from now.” Lila spoke as Elliott thrashed about more against his bindings. Diego sat forward in interest.

“Holy shit. This is it. The grassy knoll. Kennedy’s about to get shot. How do you have this?”

“Hazel died to get me this footage,” Five answered. “It must be the key to stopping doomsday.”

“Hazel…?” Diego frowned, remembering the man he spent hours searching for and planning to kill to avenge the death of Eudora Patch.

“Long story.”

“What’s doomsday?” Lila looked up at the boy.

“Longer story.”

“What exactly did he say to you?” Diego asked as Lila turned her head back to the film.

Five shrugged. “Well, he was killed before he could explain. But whatever he wanted us to see, it’s on this film.”

“This is very exciting.” The old man smiled before the sound of gunshots and screaming could be heard, the camera moving around in blurs due to the shock of the old woman filming.

“Oh, my god!”

“Oswald…” Diego whispered, setting his knife down as Five leaned in closer.

“The president!”

When the camera was steadied to record across the street, Five and Diego both stiffened in their spots at what their eyes caught. “Oh, no…” Five breathed and moved behind the projector, rewinding the film and scooting the cart backwards to zoom in closer. The room was silent as Diego stood to his feet and Five rounded the cart before standing beside his brother, directly in front of the film. “This can’t be…”

“Okay, you gonna fill me in now, boys?” Lila glanced between the two. “What the hell is this shit we’re watching?”

But she was ignored yet again.

“No, that’s impossible…”

“Clearly, it’s not.”

“What… What is it?” Elliott muffled past the gag in his mouth.

A beat of silence went by before the two Hargreeves whispered in unison,

“Dad.”

—————————————

Taglist: @unfortu-nate-ly @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @sm0kingcrack @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @starstormssymphony @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @simping-4-fictional-men @hehehehannahthings @harrystylescherrie @rhain3 @himikaphoo @zerocanonlywriteshit @xxeiraxx @camerondiaz48104 @isawachickeninatree

[aggravatetheaxe]

BO SINCLAIR X TRANS MAN / MAN ALIGNED READER COMING OUT - Pt. 2 - Over the Moon

This title is NSFW. Pt. 1, Under Your Skin, is Safe For Work. If you're a minor, please read that one instead! This one has s*x in it!

It's been a year since you came out to Bo, and while there have been ups and downs and a lot of new things to get used to, you've both done your best to keep the relationship going. But has he learned how to treat you like a man?

CW: NSFW, descriptions of dysphoria, mentions of deadnaming/misgendering, mentions of murder and mortal peril, words that could be considered slurs and/or fetishizing/objectifying (I mean, come on, it's Bo. We're talking extremely raunchy BUT GENDER AFFIRMING sex.)

Soundtrack: x

Words: 3,431

Part One

Masterlist

***

The sun was just setting over Ambrose by the time Lester's truck pulled up to the washed-out road. With a smile, you shifted the big paper bag in your arms and slid out of the passenger side, calling, "Thanks, Les!" over your shoulder.

"You take care now!" he said back, patting Jonesy's behind as she jumped out after you. "Tell those good fer nothin' brothers of mine 'm sorry I couldn't make it to dinner."

You nodded, filling your lungs with fresh air. You loved the hell out of Lester, but you still weren't used to the smell of his truck. "I'll tell them. Drive safe. Thanks again."

Lester waved as he backed out, then pulled a sharp turn to head down the dirt road again, truck clattering the whole way.

You looked down at Jonesy, who had paused to pee in a nearby bush. "You ready, Jonesy?" When she looked up at you, panting, you said, "I know, it's hot. Come on, let's head home. Go home, Jonesy."

She knew the way, taking point and leading you across the small creek, around the bend and into Ambrose.

Your heart soared the moment you stepped into town. You could see pretty much the whole thing from where you stood: the church, the gas station, the house of wax ... and of course the Sinclair house.

You were eager to go find Bo, but you followed Jonesy to the house of wax first, opening one of the front doors to let her in. She'd find her way down to Vincent, and he'd know to come up to the house for dinner in about an hour—unless he didn't show up at all, which wasn't out of the ordinary.

Jonesy pranced into the dusty darkness of the museum, and you watched her retreating form for a few moments, zoning out.

It had been a year since you'd come out to Bo, Vincent, and Lester. A year now that you'd been living as your true self. It felt like much longer than that, and yet, when you thought about it, it somehow felt like only yesterday that you'd told your favorite mechanic.

After stewing over it and your talks, he'd come to terms with your new lifestyle ... gradually. Grudgingly, at times. But he was trying, and that meant something. These days, he only had to correct himself occasionally.

And that was the thing about Bo. He may be ignorant, and he might not get it, but once he had come to terms with something ... once he had decided that something was acceptable ... he was protective as hell. It might take some work, and he might still tease you about it, but if anyone else said something? God help them.

"Boo!"

You jumped, nearly dropping your paper bag as strong hands squeezed your waist. You turned quickly and were met with Bo's grinning face. "You douchebag!"

He snickered. "Scared you, darlin'?" He leaned to look into your bag. "Get anything good?"

"Get your nose out of there." With a grin of your own, you pushed him gently away by the chest. "It's a surprise."

"You know I hate surprises." Nonetheless, Bo relented, straightening and adjusting the brim of his hat. "I'll lock up the shop, meet you up at the house in ten?"

"Sounds good." You craned your neck to kiss his stubbly, sweaty cheek, then passed him. As you did, he smacked your ass. "Ugh! Come on, dude."

"You know ya like it, dude."

You could still hear him snickering to himself like an idiot as you parted ways, starting up the hill to the house while he returned to the garage. The door was unlocked as usual. You stopped in the kitchen to shove the groceries in the fridge before starting upstairs. It was hot as hell today, and you were in desperate need of a shower, slicked with more sweat than you cared to think about.

Once in the bedroom, you kicked your shoes under the end of the bed, then stripped off your shirt. You'd been wearing your binder for a few hours now, so you peeled it off, relishing the feeling of air hitting your hot skin. As you chucked the binder to the floor, you glanced into the full-length mirror near the dresser.

Your hormone therapy was going well. You were hairier, your face was slightly different, your fat had redistributed and made you squarer in a way that made you downright giddy. Your chest wasn't flat, but more and more every day, you found you didn't care—even enjoyed the look of it. Wearing a binder in public saved you from being misgendered, but around Ambrose, you didn't wear it all that much.

You ghosted your fingers over the hair on your arms and hands, thinking back. The road to the place you were at had been rocky, to say the least. For you and for Bo. When the HRT had started taking effect especially, he'd gotten weird and silent all over again, like it was finally really setting in for him. But he'd rarely voiced any criticisms aloud besides some offhanded asinine comments, so you'd just let him deal with whatever internal struggle he was dealing with.

Those days had been a struggle for you, too. But by now, he'd gotten over himself. He even dutifully helped with your shots, administering them like they were the most serious shit in the world.

It made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, how far he had come. How far you'd both come. For a few long minutes, you were lost in your scrutiny, fingering stretch marks and admiring your hands.

You were so deep in thought that when the bedroom door creaked open, you jumped, instinctively covering your chest before you realized who it was. "You scared me."

"That's twice today." Bo smirked as he hung his hat on one of the bedposts. "You sure are jumpy."

"You're almost as quiet as Vincent when you wanna be." You bit your lip and glanced back at the mirror.

In the reflection, you noticed Bo looking you up and down slowly. After a beat, he approached from behind, wrapping his arms around your middle and meeting your gaze. As he did, he raised his hands to your chest, strong fingers rubbing your breast tissue in deep circles. Ever since you'd complained about how tender you got after being compressed for hours, he'd done this. You were pretty sure it was just an excuse to touch your boobs, but it felt nice at least.

You relaxed back into him with a sigh, letting him support you a bit. "How was your day?"

"A lot better now that you're home, handsome." He craned his head to kiss your neck and stayed like that, mouth buried in the crook. "Fuck, you smell good," he mumbled into your skin, fingers never stilling.

You couldn't help but squirm a little under his praise. You smelled like sweat, and worse, man sweat, but Bo always seemed fascinated with it, more than content to snuggle up to you and take your changing body in.

"I smell like a highschool gym locker," you mumbled, though you couldn't hide your goofy smile in the mirror.

He raised his eyes and brows to meet your gaze in the reflection again. "You sure? I used ta play football ... don't remember the other guys smellin' this hot."

You squeezed one of the arms around your waist, trying to ignore the heat of your face. The sight of him rubbing your breasts and the feeling of his rough fingers against your sensitive skin was already crazy-making enough. "I bet you found it a little hot."

A year ago, you wouldn't have dared make a joke like that. You didn't even wanna think about how offended he would've gotten. Now, though, his only reaction was a smile that crinkled his eyes and a little sparkle in his pupils.

"All those sweaty, strong guys bumping up against each other in steamy close quarters." Your smile turned into a grin. "Bet it kinda turned you on."

Bo snorted. "Wouldn't really know. I usually changed in the janitor's closet." A bit of vulnerability flashed in his eyes, but he quickly recovered by focusing the attention back on you. "Anyway, none a' them were like you. Where you goin', lookin' like that?"

As he spoke, his hands slid down your front, hugging your hips so your ass was pressed tight against him. You shivered hard. "Looking like what? This is just my body."

He grunted, and you watched in fascination as his gaze ate you up. He rubbed your flanks with his thumbs. "You're a real pretty boy, you know that? Not like other guys at all..."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you suppressed the urge to hide your face in your hands. Still, you averted your eyes from the mirror, too shy to look at yourself any longer. "I dunno about that, but thanks."

Bo shifted. He huffed in your ear, and you lifted your head enough to see him frowning down at you. After a few moments, his expression changed to something slightly more neutral, eyes alight. "Don't make me hafta teach you a lesson, sweetheart. I might enjoy it too much."

Those words sent a thrill up your spine, flipping your stomach. He looked like a predator about to strike its prey, and god, it took everything you had not to give in right away. You raised your chin in a challenge. "What lesson is that, hm?"

Bo's expression shifted again. He grinned, bottom lip caught between his teeth. One hand left your hip, wrapping around your throat just under your chin.

Then, he pivoted, and with one good yank, threw you onto the bed.

You loosed a soft breath as you bounced on the mattress, looking up at him. Defiance fluttered its wings in your chest. "Well? You never answered my question."

"Shh." His hand returned, this time over your mouth. "None a' that now. I'm not in the mood for dolin' out punishment. You just sit there nice 'n' lemme show you what ya do to me, understand?"

Even if you could say something with his hand over your mouth, all you wanted to do was stare at him—at those beautiful blue eyes that seemed to see right through you.

"Tch." His crooked grin made a brief appearance, though it was more of a snarl, showing off his gums. "What a good li'l soldier."

With that, Bo moved in on you, kissing you hard. Teeth and noses clashed painfully before he drew you closer and deeper, his tongue exploring you like he could drink you in. You returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm, grunting into his mouth, then giving a groan when you felt his large hand cup you between the legs.

A sharp inhale, and he pulled back slightly. His lips moved against yours as he whispered, "Whose is that? Who does this pussy belong to, dickbait?"

Your breath hitched. "You."

"Me. That's right." He squeezed and rubbed through your jeans. You could already feel how wet you were, folds sliding together. A second later, he'd undone your button and zipper and slipped his hand into your underwear. "Fuck, that's nice." His lips still brushed against yours, breath hot on your face and in your mouth. "Love that boy cunt. You're just as wet, aintcha?"

As he stroked you, his thumb found your swollen clit. You gasped when he put pressure on it.

"So wet for your man."

You shuddered and dared to quip back, "And it looks like you're pretty hard for yours."

Finally, he pulled back to meet your eyes, lust warring with challenge. He stared for a few moments before saying, his voice nearly a growl, "I'mmuna make you come, pussyboy. Yeah. Squirt all up my stomach 'n' chest ... we'll see if you still gimme an attitude once you're screamin' and shakin' under me."

You had no smart comeback for that. You simply melted onto his hand, grinding against him as he slid two fingers inside your hot, needy pussy. The feeling of him curling his fingers and stroking you deep already had you biting back incoherent dirty talk, every nerve electric.

"Pretty young buck like you, walkin' around lookin' like that ... you're just askin' for dick." He licked his lips and used his other hand to help you shimmy out of your jeans. Soon, you were bare, gushing all over his fingers as he loomed over you. "Am I right?"

"Y-Yeah," you pushed out, leaning back on your palms so he could get a better angle. "Fuck, Bo—"

"Y/N," he mumbled back, free hand gripping the back of your head. "Y/N."

You heard him say your name all the time, but the way he said it now, the way he was staring into your eyes ... you knew this meant something more. He wasn't just fucking you, he was fucking you. He was seeing you.

You couldn't take it anymore. Your head was spinning with every circle his thumb made around your clit, but you needed more. With a strangled gasp, you gripped his biceps. "Bo, baby, inside—fuck, please, I need you."

He smirked above you. "Not until you admit you're the handsomest goddamn man in Ambrose."

You groaned. "Come on!"

"Sorry, gorgeous, those're the rules. C'mon, lemme hear you say it."

Your cheeks burned, but he wouldn't stop playing with your pussy, and you didn't want to come without his cock inside you. "I-I can't," you muttered, only half joking. "What about you, big cat?"

"Besides me." He thrust his fingers in particularly firmly, drawing a shout from you. "Say, 'I'm the handsomest goddamn man in Ambrose.' I wanna see you say it while you're ridin' my hand, and you better convince me."

You panted for a few more moments before finally giving in, sputtering, "I'm the ... handsomest goddamn man in Ambrose," followed immediately by a groan, your eyes rolling back in your head.

"I'm not buyin' it."

"I'm the handsomest goddamn man in Ambrose!" He certainly made you feel like it.

"Good boy." After one last jerk, Bo drew his fingers from you, going to work his belt off. His cock sprung from his Dickies, already red and glistening with precum. He caught your calves in iron grips as he lined himself up with your hole. "I c'n smell you. Slut. So fuckin' messy for me."

As he slid in, your head lolled back. You dropped to your elbows, then gave up completely and laid flat, unable to hold yourself up for shaking.

Bo almost cooed, throbbing gently inside you. "Lookit my beautiful boyfriend ... already half way ta heaven. Haven't even started poundin' that sloppy boy pussy yet. Ya can't lose it on me already, ace."

Even the stupid nicknames got you hot somehow. You watched him through half-lidded eyes, panting. When he began to thrust, you yowled like a hurt animal, the drag of his dick sending flames spitting through your limbs.

His grip tightened as he rolled his hips into you, in and out, in and out, picking up pace. "You like that, loverboy? Shit, sure looks like ya do." He lifted his chin. "Stick your tongue out."

Obediently, you parted your lips with your tongue, trying not to drool too much.

Bo couldn't hide the way his eyes sparkled as he watched your mouth, or the way his dick swelled in you. His hips moved faster, your slickness enough for him to glide. It felt so nice, but that alone wouldn't make you come, and he knew that—he was savoring this.

Eventually, his shirt found its way to the floor, followed by his pants and boxer-briefs. The sight of him bare with you, glistening in the hot afternoon, made it hard to breathe.

With one of his hands, he propped your leg up so it was resting against his chest and slightly over his shoulder; with the other, he explored your torso, dragging his calloused hands up your hip, across your stomach, to your breasts. He still played with them often, sucking and squeezing, and you found you didn't mind. The way it made you feel and the way he was looking at you, how could you ever hate it? Plus, you weren't sure he'd take no for an answer regardless.

A growl ripped from your chest as he bent to suck one of your nipples, latching on for a few moments before flicking his tongue, then running it flat in circles. He whispered heatedly, lips brushing against you, accent slurring, "I love your tits ... you know I love ya tits, righ'? Fuck, ya so hot..."

You knew he'd miss them if you decided to get rid of them. Honestly, that was half the reason you were reconsidering that idea. You never wanted to forget the way he worshiped them: licking, sucking, slapping, squeezing his dick between them...

"Come on, romeo," Bo panted, his mouth still against your chest as he plowed into you. Wet clapping filled the room as his balls met your ass, again and again, almost unbearably warm. "Come on, fuck ya'self off tha'."

He loosened his grip on you, giving you more freedom to move. Now he was fucking firmer, his angle more deliberate, the hot head of his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. You loosed another yowl and bucked your hips to meet his.

"Bo," you groaned. "Bo, Bo..."

"Tha's my man." He was losing control of himself, his voice choked and desperate. "Tha's my man. Tha's my fuckin' man."

"Yeah—! You— you like fucking other guys, angel? Huh?"

Bo exhaled harshly, twitching inside you. "Like makin' 'em scream, too. 'Specially this one. My— handsome li'l— pussyboy—"

You could feel the muscles of his sweat-slicked thighs and abs flexing as he tried to hold himself back, trying to keep himself from finishing. You knew one comment from you would push him over the edge ... so you waited until you were at your edge, too, to choke out: "Fill that slutty boy pussy up, cher. Show me who's the big man around here, who gets to come wherever he wants. Show me who's boss— fuck—!"

Bo lurched, sinking his teeth in the crook of your neck. Every inch of him tensed, cock jumping, and you saw white as your entire core became molten between your orgasm and his.

When you were next aware of your surroundings, he had collapsed into you, slumped a bit awkwardly over the edge of the bed. He was breathing hard, his hair damp with sweat. It dripped down his spine, too, and down the back of your thighs. You gripped him tightly, wrapping your arms and legs around him, and the two of you stayed like that for a minute or so.

Eventually, he pulled away, rolling onto his back beside you. One of his strong, square hands still gripped your wrist, though, thumb brushing the back of your hand lightly. He opened his pretty blue eyes, all long lashes as he blinked away the haze of his climax.

Then he looked over at you—and, of course, found you already staring at him. His lips quirked up in a smirk. "Angel?"

You could feel yourself flush. "Romeo?"

The smirk turned into a wolfish grin, and he propped himself up on one elbow, stealing a kiss. "You're cute," he declared after a moment, like he was giving his official opinion on the subject.

"You're one to talk. Can we at least agree that I'm the second handsomest man in Ambrose?"

Bo heaved a sigh. "A'right, a'right, fine. Guess numero uno is my cross ta bear."

"Always."

With a laugh, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close for a kiss. It started heated and rough, but as the seconds passed, it became more tender. He slipped a hand into your hair and held you in the kiss for an extended period before pulling away, an intense gaze searching your face.

"I love you," he breathed. "Ya know that, right?"

It wasn't often he said it unprompted; usually when he told you he loved you, it was because you'd said it first. At once, tears sprung to your eyes, and you leaned in for another quick kiss.

You did know—you did. And more importantly, he knew. He knew everything and he still said those three little words. He saw you and this and he still wanted all of it.

And fuck, you wanted it, too.

***

Masterlist

Tip Jar

[hematomes]

I saw your post about ppl losing their shiz about Kaeya fanart being “whitewashed” when it’s literally darker than he is in canon. I agree btw I love like basically all Kaeya art out there I love one eyepatch man.

anyhoo, I have a story. I once saw a tiktok about a kaeya art. it was specifically labeled “IN PROGRESS” or whatever so you knew the artist wasn’t done. it was a gorgeous piece of art btw. So far, the only thing that had been colored was his hair and some of his clothes.

pretty much everyone in the comments started harrasing her about how he was whitewashed and the artist had to be a white supremacist and i think someone said “see I knew everyone who played genshin was racist just delete the game at this point.”

i was just like 😳 wow jeez it’s literally IN PROGRESS the artist legit said so.

the artist eventually posted the final version (after having to delete the first video and deal with several threats) it did turn out beautiful, but on the comments there and on every post of theirs after people are lurkign in the comments bad-mouthing them.

as much as I definitely am for characters not being whitewashed (especially Kaeya bc I love him your honor) I think some people take it way too far when the person they’re yelling at literally just wanted to get people excited about their WIP.

hi! sorry im so late this issue became quite sensitive lol i had to work up the courage to come back to it. it's gonna be a bit long, but i really need to say all this

if there's one thing i noticed about the genshin community on tiktok and twitter, it's that there is a whole, whole lot of social justice warriors and overall it's extremely toxic. it's something that surprised me because the people i interact with on tumblr are all super sweet and not one bit toxic so? idk, tumblr is just a different breed i guess

your story is extremely saddening. everytime there's a kaeya fanart, people forget about the color theory and the artists' style and claim it's whitewashed and i genuinely don't understand why. if someone could explain it to me, am i missing something? im not an artist so perhaps im mistaken, idk, but i've never seen a fanart where kaeya was whitewashed.

the thing that pisses me off the most is that most of the time it's white ppl calling something whitewashed. i'm not saying you shouldn't call out racism if you see it just bc you're white, just that these people aren't even right - and often you see poc coming into the debate and explaining it's not whitewashed/saying it doesn't bother them. moreover, i've literally seen fanart of beidou as a black girl, which isn't representation in my opinion - beidou is already a poc, and asian people need at least as much representation as black people, so it's plain racism. same thing with kaeya, i've seen edits of him with stereotypical african features, and it's really sad that no one is calling this out but yelling about whitewashing as soon as he isn't the exact same color as the official arts. hell, someone even said "so what if it's darker? it's still whitewashing" and i??? am flabbergasted. whitewashing is absolutely disgusting, but ppl keep misunderstanding what it means and just using it to gratuitously harass artists.

now, don't get me wrong. i believe that you can draw whatever you want. but the thing is - if you get mad when someone draws kaeya white (if they really do, i mean), you can't just applaud someone else's that draws another character black. racism goes both ways, and it's bordering on fetishism. i, as a poc (mixed-race, caucasian + african), am extremely uncomfortable everytime i see this double-standard.

but anyway, the fact remains that sjw have plagued the genshin fandom. and it's not just about kaeya's skin color (we don't even know if he's really a poc - we know he's tan according to paimon, and i believe she called him "exotic"? so idk) but also about the ships. everytime i see a shippy tiktok, there's plenty of ppl out here saying it's wrong, claiming their own ship is the most canon. if i'm not mistaken, kaeluc is the one that gets the most hate, and i genuinely, once again, don't understand why.

i talked about them before and explained how it's not incest bc they really aren't brothers, but i swear every now and then i see people throwing death threats and slurs anytime someone hints at them. idk if you are familiar with the eng va's fandom, but sometimes they play among us together, aether's va does some livestreams where he invites different voice actors. but diluc's va is never there, and i was wondering why - recently i learned that it's because he retweet a fanart of kaeya and diluc fighting alongside each other (not even a shippy fanart, apparently) and people harassed him and excluded him from the fandom. and now the same thing is happening to griffin burns, childe's va, bc he retweeted (or liked, idk) a fanart of lumine and childe fighting or something and people called it pedophilia bc lumine would be a minor. i'm not even gonna dive into this bc the travelers are canonically like 30 times childe's age, but what i mean is - people are so full of hate and i can't fathom living like this?

the point is, i totally respect anyone who doesn't ship something i ship. i myself don't like certain ships - like zhongli/xiao, jean/diluc - but im not gonna harass ppl who do just because i can? that's messed up, i just don't get it. i wish the fandom wasn't that bad bc i really enjoy this game

anyway, im really disappointed but still grateful, bc my followers & people i've interacted with here have been nothing but sweet and respectful. i hope none of y'all come across the toxic side of the genshin fandom. stay safe y'all!

[sukunahz]

i.  been away .

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: what would you do? / a03

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your old friend, eren yeager had been gone for almost an entire year and you and your friends have all but moved on with life. in fact you have barely given him a second thought -- but when he returns, he's not the same passionate frat-boy you once knew; he's a stranger now.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.6k words

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, oral, fingering, eren is kinda’ mean, mentions of alcohol, intoxication and drugs. based on the absolute banger been away by brent faiyaz. i posted this on a03 two months ago and i swear every week my writing changes and when i look back i’m ashamed. i swear the chapters get better 😩

You were barely paying attention to the conversation around you, you were idly fiddling with your completely empty cup since Sasha and Connie had been arguing about the same thing for the past 20 minutes. You knew it was because they had both been tiptoeing around something; they were keeping something from you. What did you expect from the two people closest to you, but you weren't a sensitive, little baby bird? In fact, you had forced yourself to not shed tears over a night that was so insignificant that there was no point for these two to continue on with this desperate charade. “He’s back. Isn’t he?” You stated bluntly, your words were viciously slicing at their conversation. They both remained silent; their clear discomfort was painted vividly onto their expressions as they exchanged worried glances between each other. Eren had been gone for so long that he had faded from you and your friends’ lives completely, he was so easily displaced from your thoughts in such a short amount of time and you had felt the least bit of guilt for it. Time marches on, not even Eren would be able to bend time to his will. Your friends had adjusted to life without their friend, but you could sense the discomfort in celebrating Connie’s birthday in his absence.

“Apparently.” Sasha replied, her gaze darted towards the door as if his return was some impending doom, like a devastating natural disaster that would upset the balance of everything. You wanted to be confused as to why they were hiding this from you, but you knew full well that with the way he disappeared – you would be counting down the days till he returned. Sasha and Connie knew that you were now a minefield and one misstep by anyone would illicit a violently ruinous reaction from you.

“He’s not the same.” Connie added, interrupting your train of thought. “You know how he left… he's -- he's not the same guy.” There was a silence after that, you had lost the energy to keep fighting them about Eren. You could see the disillusion drain into Connie’s face, you weren’t the only one who Eren left, in fact – it was everyone in this room that he had left behind. Those two were inseparable a year ago and now it seemed like Connie could barely string together a sincere sentence about Eren. You couldn’t keep recounting your history with them, a history that was so minuscule that you had no right to expect anything from him -- right? You forced the two to return to their idle conversations, doing anything to drag the conversation away from someone that you had tried so hard to put behind you. There was load music droning through the common area accompanied by smoke from Jean’s vape that was dancing wistfully near the window.

You heard a pause in the atmosphere in the room, there was a break in the cluttered chatter of the house. There he was, speak of the devil -- Eren had finally returned after an entire year, surrounded by a group of people who carried the same troubled and unsettling demeanour as him. You had to force every muscle in your body not to respond to him, since all he did was glance languidly your way before he joined a group of people in the other corner of the room. You felt nimble fingers press a comforting touch upon your thighs as she was still engrossed in her conversation with Connie. “Don’t.” Sasha whispered to you; her gaze was still straight ahead. You scoffed at her warning; she knew you all too well, just how easily you were able to get tangled into Eren’s web.

“I won’t.”

You weren’t over Eren because there was nothing to get over, you had no feelings for him, and not a single thing would change just how much of a brazen jackass he was. The timing of your pep-talk with yourself couldn’t have been better since Eren and his friends found themselves occupying the vacant furniture around Connie, Sasha and yourself. It had been a while since you had even been able to soak in his presence, but you could tell there was a different air to him, he seemed indifferent now, his lids drooping low and he barely paid any attention to the conversations around him. You could hear Armin’s attempts to draw Eren out from his shell, his repeated calls to invite him to participate in the conversations but all Eren could do is brush him off or reply with a simple mumble. How did he manage to be so magnetic; he was surrounded by friends and yet he was completely withdrawn and isolated?

“Hey—” Zeke called out to you, his words were already slurring, and the smell of beer was swimming around the air around him. He was just as rugged as his younger brother and you could tell that he was a part of Eren’s recent downward spiral. Despite bearing the same haunted resemblance as his younger brother, Zeke’s blonde hair is tidy and taken care of in contrast to his unruly facial hair. You could tell that Zeke bears no regard for taming his beard or his alcohol intake, you could also tell that just like Eren, he probably didn't care about much at this point. Lost in your observations, you realised you must have been staring too long as Zeke’s gaze met your own. “You know he almost used up his one phone call at the station on you!” He wrapped his arm drunkenly around Eren’s shoulder. Station? You thought to yourself, did that idiot get himself arrested? You glanced quickly towards Eren and you could see the shame and irritation across his demeanour. He had barely even said a word since he arrived, yet he already looked drained and exhausted.  

“Why would he waste a call on me?” You muttered with a roll of your eyes. Your short temper was also about to blow. Why does everyone connect you two together, you were friends before he left and nothing more? No amount of history between you two would change anything, not even one alcohol-fuelled mistake. Eren didn’t owe you anything and he didn’t fail to hammer that notion into you when he left.  

“Eren, you might wanna’ take care of your wasted brother before he embarrasses you anymore.” Sasha jested with a tilt of her head, a futile attempt to diffuse the situation. With that, you decide that it would actually be you who embarrassed themselves if you stayed any longer.

“I’m gunna’ get a drink.” You whispered to Sasha before forcing a reassuring smile across your features in order to ensure that she doesn’t follow you. You weren’t in the mood to talk about Eren or whatever the fuck he’s been up to in his long absence. A better person would be concerned for him but all you could do was feel irritation, you heeded Sasha’s warning, you’ve been living your life – dealing with your own baggage and Eren doesn’t get to just return out of nowhere and take the reins of your life again. You pushed yourself onto your feet towards a familiar friend in the hallway.

“Not joining the welcome wagon?” You teased; a conceited sneer etched upon your features as you can see the displeased expression on your friend. You were provoking the obvious bad blood between the two, it was rather petty of you to seek him out for the sole reason of loathing Eren together, but who better to understand than Jean

“My bad, I better hop in the line and give that asshole a proper welcome!” Jean quipped back, his tone was overly dramatic and topped off with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. “I’m actually getting out of here; Connie’s got some weird black pepper flavoured vape that I’ve been dared to try – wanna’ come?”

“Yeah – I’ll join you in a sec’, let my grab my jumper first.” You replied, accepting any invitation that would lead you as far away from the impending disaster that lurks outside the hallways. As Jean made his way downstairs, you entered your room before the comfortable silence was interrupted by an all too familiar voice. The voice was deep and steady, but you noticed it lost its notable flare, the usual effervescence had lifted from him, all that remained was something dark and troubled. You couldn’t recognise who the man standing before you was. He had stray, brunette locks falling on his forehead while the rest of his hair was hastily tied into a bun. His broad physique was framed by an almost entirely black wardrobe with the exception of his large gold key necklace that sat perfectly upon his chest.

“What’s wrong with you?” He dimly asked, he crossed his arms as he pressed his weight against the wall. He had an air of disappointment surrounding him, as if he couldn’t believe that you wouldn’t want to be in his presence, he couldn't believe that you didn't press further on the comment that Zeke made earlier.

“What’s wrong with me?” You challenged him, was he so self-entitled that he thought he could guilt you from walking away from a conversation that you did not want to be a part of. You didn’t want to know what changed Eren and you didn’t care what it was that pulled him away.

“Wanna’ tell me why you’re so pissed?” His expression, or lack of expression didn't change. As your temper rose, Eren’s voice and demeanour stayed the same. Despite his words showing a genuine interest, his voice and mannerisms displayed nothing but a disregard for absolutely anything going on around him. This wasn’t the Eren that you knew, the man that you had known had life and zest spilling from his expressive eyes, he cared about the smallest things around him despite being just as haunted as you were. In fact, it was Eren who was able to keep you from falling into a dangerous spiral, but it looks like he wasn’t able to save himself.  

“Fuck off, Eren. Maybe if you could take a hint, you’d realise that you’re the one pissing me off.” The words came carelessly fumbling out from your mouth -- at this point you knew you were overreacting; you could tell he had gone through something, but he owed you much more than he was giving you and you relished the thought of humbling him.

Eren didn't respond to your rant, instead, he drew in a long, sharp breath of air before he stepped towards you. Your chest rose and fell, almost out of breath from your last sentence as you stumbled backwards from his advances, your back crashing against the wall behind you. His arm extended to reach out for the wall behind you as his face creeps in closer towards you. “You and your short temper.” He mumbled to you while you soak in his scent. At least there was something familiar about him, this same scent that you were once tangled in. It’s embarrassing just how easily he’s able to bend you to his will. Just like that you were under his spell again, itching to give him a proper welcome back even though you know he doesn't deserve it. But he was so close and tempting, covered with a new and mysterious aura, maybe it was your distaste and resentment for him that fuelled your next move.

Your hands tugged at the ends of his shirt to pull him closer to you as you connected your lips with his. It was a long and messy kiss when he slipped his tongue inside yours. Eren's movements were hungry, as if he had been starving for days and this was his first taste of food. You could see his features were radiating with passion, the colour from his eyes seeping back in. His movements were so robust compared with the apathetic display he had put on earlier. Just for a second, you could see the person you once knew before. Your arms travelled from the bottom of his shirt to wrap around his neck and Eren slips his arms around your upper thighs, inviting you to wrap your legs around his waist. He didn't break his lips away from you but instead he sends a wet trail of reckless kisses along your neck before he lowers you onto the desk nearby, your legs still wrapped around his body. You were ashamed that you wanted more, didn’t you promise yourself that you wouldn’t let him come back and take over your life again, you put him in the past the second he chose to walk away.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You mumbled; Sasha’s prior warning seemed to have fallen upon deaf ears. There was a room outside full of your friends and one stray noise could end it all for the both of you. Despite your weak attempts to convince yourself that you could walk away from this encounter, your body seemed to have a mind of its own and was telling him the exact opposite. Eren’s lips trailed lower and lower from your neck, to your chest and falling all the way to your thighs. Almost every inch of your skin was covered in his wet trails. Your neck and back arched as soft moans spilled from your unruly lips.

“Tell me to stop then.” He breathes, you peered down on him as his hands rest on your thighs while he was on his knees. You remained silent; however, your hands travel to his hair as an invitation for him to continue on. Eren inches closer and closer towards your centre, his fingers pushing the thin fabric guarding your core to the side. His tongue draws intricate and wet lines across your slit as you emit a loud moan at the sudden sensation. You could feel a forceful wave of euphoria rush through your spine while he keeps a tight hold on your thighs to stop you from squirming. He was assiduous with his ministrations and he didn't remove his tongue when he introduced his fingers to your wet centre, teasing your entrance to get a reaction out of you. You inhaled sharply at the newly added sensation, his tongue and fingers massaging your clit effortlessly.

“Ere—”

“Just shut up…” Eren interrupted, as he pushed two of his fingers into you, dangerously close to being knuckle deep inside you. As if your calls of his name were distracting him from his intricate work. His familiar cockiness has returned, the jovial frat-boy that you once knew was zealously tasting you. His ministrations contained a heightened bravado now and you were finally starting to recognise who the man before you was.

“You’re tighter than I remember.” He observed, his fingers were frozen inside you as his piercing eyes were connected to yours, you knew that he was about to have you wrapped around his finger again.

“Maybe I’m just not as turned on as you think I am?” You challenged, forcing yourself not to bite down on your lip in front of him. With your remark, he quickly pulled his index and middle finger out of your pussy. The movement was so abrupt, and it left you craving all the more from him, just when he was pushing you to arrive to your peak, you came crumbling back down. A punishment for your quip at his sexual prowess.

“Oh really? Why don’t I show you just how wet you are then?” The devilish smirk spread across his lips was almost maniacal, a gesture of his sudden surge of confidence. He wrapped his already wet fingers around your own and lead them towards your now notably, wet pussy. Your fingers lingered there, unsure of what to do as you refused to make eye contact with Eren.

“See for yourself, since I apparently am not up to the task.” You still stalled for a moment, heat racing towards your cheeks, despite you baring your entire body to him, were you so shameless that you would pleasure yourself right in front of him?

“Go on — touch yourself.” This time, Eren’s tone was posed as a dominant command than it was a request. Just when you had thought you had the upper hand; it took just one minute for him to have you at his beck and call again. You hesitantly began to rub around your slit, shame soaked into your thoughts as you realised that you are just as wet as Eren stated.

Quiet moans fell from your lips as Eren smugly watched you have a taste of your own medicine, it was bittersweet since despite the pleasure you were giving to yourself, all you were doing was proving Eren right. Once your high started increasing, he softly wrapped his fingers around yours to stop you from what you were doing before he rammed two fingers inside you abruptly, eliciting a high-pitched yelp from you. His other hand was still wrapped around yours, pinning your arm to the desk to stop you from squirming. “Jealous, are we?” You provoked him; your eyebrow raised to match your goading sentiment.

His pace begun slow as he pulled in and out of you in long and detailed movements, he knew exactly how to build you back up as you responded to his movements with moans and your back arched up against the wall, your arms still pinned down by his free hand. “God, stop playing around.” You called out in frustration, he was playing with you and you knew that he was keeping you just below your boiling point.

“I thought you weren’t turned on?” He questioned; his fingers were moving just slow enough within you. You sat there silent, breaking your eye contact with him and refusing to fuel his ego anymore. However, Eren can see the way your body responds to him. “You want it that badly? Then beg for it.” He removed his fingers from you hastily as he rose from his kneeling position, so his face and body were hovering over you. He was just high enough that the tip of the key hanging off his change was resting comfortably on your chest. Your fingers reached out for the collars on his shirt as you carelessly pulled him even closer to you, your lips angled towards his ear.

“I’m begging you… Don’t you want a taste of me?” You successfully coaxed Eren into returning to your core, however, it was not his fingers that revisited you but his tongue. Your game of cat and mouse continued on as his tongue explored every single crevice of your pussy, his hands were keeping your thighs spread apart and pinned to the desk. Your back arched higher and higher as you quickly approached your climax, your fingers were tangling themselves into Eren’s hair and your chest rising and falling as you were getting ready to cum. Eren’s tongue was hitting all the right spots, it was as if he could read your body like the back of his hand, someone with barely any experience with your body could still bend and twist it to his will. Your body finally released the cluster of sexual tension that Eren had so diligently built up with within you. As you fell back against the desk, Eren rose from his position again, standing up this time as the pad of his thumb narcissistically grazed the bottom of his lip, cleaning up the excess remains of your orgasm.

“You’re right, I did want a taste.” He buttoned the bottom of his shirt back up and ran his hand smoothly through his hair, a futile attempt at cleaning himself up. You knew he was about to walk out, and you should have known better than to try to stop him, you loathed him at that moment and yet your body and perhaps even your heart was yearning for him.

“Eren.” You sat up quickly and reached out for his arm. He stopped in his tracks, not a word left his lips just his wide, emerald gaze staring at yours. “I think you should fuck me—” Before you’re able to provide any explanation his lips had crashed onto yours, yet he remained standing, his arms were cupping your upper neck as you are pulled up to meet his height. You responded instantly; your arms wrapped around his torso as your tongue eagerly crashed against his own.

His lips met your neck, and you knew he was about to plant a blue and purple reminder of this very moment. Despite Eren’s greedy reaction to your kiss, you could sense his hesitation in his movements, and you’ve experienced this before, he’s going to walk away – again. “I can’t…” He whispered into the crook of your neck, halting for a moment before he pressed one final kiss above your now growing bruise before he straightened himself up and walked out of the door. He didn’t even give you one final glance before leaving you alone on your desk and once again you could see all the colour drain from him as he exits. He was about to return to the same brooding and apathetic person he had become. It was embarrassing that you thought one hate-infused tryst in your room would change that, you were never able to change Eren.

You had barely adjusted to the change in pace, one second ago he was tasting every inch of you and the next he was leaving you dazed and confused on your desk. How quickly the loneliness crept into you, why did you need him around you so badly? Hadn’t you just sworn to yourself that you would resist him, you wouldn’t make the same mistakes that you did before? You forced yourself not to delve into the dark mystery that was Eren’s year away, but you know he wasn’t relaxing and getting back in touch with his brother, he had lost himself, getting himself arrested and God knows what else – but for some reason he’s back now?

[motherjoel]

fine line series (spencer reid x reader)

part 1/3- to be so lonely

summary: spencer lets his jealousy and family problems get in the way of his relationship with you

a/n: you don’t need to know these songs at all to enjoy the story, but i recommend listening to them just for the full experience! harry styles is my fav :)

wc: 1.6k

part two, part 3

-

don’t call me baby again

it’s hard for me to go home

be so lonely

-

“Morgan, stop!” you giggled while being lifted up bridal style and twirled by the BAU’s resident jock against your will. 

“I can’t help that you’re too damn cute, Y/N!” Morgan laughed before setting you down gently. The two of you were pretty close, and when it came down to it, Morgan was like the big brother you never had- everyone knew this. But apparently not everyone believed it

After chatting and laughing with Morgan for a bit, you noticed Spencer wasn’t at his desk anymore. You decided to search for your boyfriend, wondering if he was maybe getting coffee. When you entered the breakroom, your suspicions were proven to be correct as he poured himself another cup, strands of his unruly hair hanging in his face. You walked over to him and pushed a hair behind his ear, accidentally making him flinch.

“Oh I’m sorry babe, did I scare you?” you asked, apologetically. He was never this jumpy under your touch- he normally leaned into your caresses and head scratches.

“Nope,” he replied, nonchalantly popping the “p”. Without another word he headed back to his desk. You thought this was weird, but you brushed it off and returned to your desk where Morgan was waiting for you.

“Where’s my cup, princess?” he asked flirtatiously, one leg leaning on your desk.

“She’s not your barista, Morgan,” Reid scoffed, not looking up from his paperwork. You shared a concerned look with Morgan, wondering what was wrong with your boyfriend.

“I know pretty boy, I’m just thirsty is all,” Morgan said, holding his arms up in defense. When Spencer didn’t bother to reply, Morgan just headed back to his desk and continued to work on his files. You turned your attention to your snappy boyfriend, who had been looking at the same paper for a few minutes without turning the page- this is how you knew something was definitely wrong. You stood up and walked right in front of him, forcing his attention on you.

“Is everything okay, my love?” you asked, tilting his head up with your hand. He just looked away and pushed your hand back down.

“Why do you care? Why don’t you just ask Morgan? You’re his princess, after all,” he angrily replied, saying the last part under his breath.

“Hey, what's with the hostility?” you asked, standing up. You were surprised at this sudden shift in your boyfriend's attitude. 

“Hostility? Y/N, you’ve been doing everything but making out with Morgan right in front of me, and you expect me to be peachy keen? Well, I’m sorry that I'm not as perfect as him,” he raised his voice, gaining the attention from the rest of the team, who had stopped working on their paperwork.

“Woah there pretty boy, Y/N and I are just friends, you know that,” Derek said, holding up a defensive hand.

“Go to Hell,” Spence bit back, before grabbing his bag and speedily making his way out of the room. Everyone stood in awe of what just happened, unsure of how to react. You decided to let him cool down and you all tried to get back to work, but the energy was off for the rest of the day. JJ had tried to make small talk with you, but you found it hard to be cheery after the incident from earlier. As you were packing up for the day, you decided to visit Spencer. Before you left, Morgan came up to you.

“Listen, Y/N, apologize to Spencer for me?” he asked, sincerely.

“I will Derek, but I honestly don’t think you have anything to apologize for, it's not like we were acting any different today,” you said and he nodded, deep in thought. “I’m gonna visit him now to see what's up,” you told him before saying your goodbyes to the rest of the team. 

On the car ride to his apartment, you were racking your brain for what you did wrong, but you came up with nothing. You decided to just ask him straight out. Pulling into a parking spot, you made your way up and knocked on his door. You could hear things crashing as Spencer made his way to answer, which only increased your worry.

“Hey Y/N, decide you finally care about me?” Spencer greeted you, words slurring slightly and the smell of alcohol on his lips. 

“You’re drunk, Spencer,” you acknowledged, pushing your way into his apartment as he stumbled behind you and took a seat on his couch, watching you as you stood in front of him, arms crossed.

“What was I supposed to do, stay sober while my life falls apart?” he asked, taking a swig of his travel size booze. 

“Babe, don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?” you asked, trying to wrestle the booze from his hands- he didn’t put up much of a fight in his drunken state. 

“No, I don’t! I’m having the worst week of my life, and my girlfriend doesn’t even love me anymore,” he pouted, putting his head into his hands. You sat next to him and rested a hand on his back, only for him to squirm out of your touch.

“Spence, you know I love you. Nothing you can say will make me stop, so just tell me what happened”, you almost begged, vowing to get to the bottom of this.

“Well, over the weekend I went to visit my mother,” he started, trying his best not to slur his words. “When I got there I could tell she didn’t recognize me anymore. She tried! But the entire visit, the woman who raised me didn't even know my name!” he shouted with a mirthless laugh before putting his head back into his hands. This broke your heart- of course he was on edge earlier. 

“I'm so sorry baby,” you said, refraining from giving him a comforting touch.

“Don’t call me baby again,” he slurred into his hands.

“Spence, you’ve got your reasons for being upset. I wish you had told me sooner about your mom, maybe I could've helped you, or I at least could've been more sensitive at work,” you sympathized. He couldn’t even look at you. 

“Do you think it's easy?” he asked, finally raising his gaze to you.

“Do I think what's easy?”

“Being of the ‘jealous’ kind,” he sighed, reaching for his alcohol again.

“Spencer, you’re just having a bad week,” you reasoned with him, worried about what he could say next. You soon learned that you were right to worry.

“This isn’t working out,” he said, looking at his hands. 

“Well, if you would just talk to me, we could work things out,” you said, trying to put your hand on his back, only for him to squirm away again.

“No, Y/N! Us! We’re not working out,” he shouted. Your face went white. “I think you should leave,” he sighed, taking another swig. 

This broke your heart into a million pieces, but you thought better than to fight it- he was drunk, and you doubted he'd even remember most of what he said. You, however, would remember. You wiped away the tears you hadn't realized were falling and you picked up your purse before rushing out of the room and into your car. You drove home in silence, the only noise being your occasional sniffle. 

-

It had been a few hours since your fight. You were currently snuggled on the couch next to Penelope, who you had called once you got back to your apartment. The second she heard your raspy, choked-up voice, she was on her way with a tub of ice cream. The two of you had watched shitty reality TV for hours when she began to doze off- you, however, were not tired whatsoever. Your conversation with Spencer rang in your mind all day, and you wondered if there was anything else you could’ve said. Just as you thought this, your phone began to vibrate and Spencer’s smiling contact picture showed up on your screen. Penelope began to stir a bit but you just hushed her back to sleep before rushing into your room and shutting the door. 

“Hi,” you said softly, embarrassed at the crack in your voice. 

“I’m an arrogant son of a bitch,” Spencer began. You could tell by his voice that he had sobered up.

“Spence-” you started, only to be interrupted.

“No, I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he's sorry. Y/N, I'm so sorry. I-I was a jerk today, I didn’t mean anything I said,” he told you, and you wanted to believe him. You really did.

“Spence, you might have been right,” you said, so softly, you weren’t even sure if he heard it. He did.

“What?” he asked, and your heart broke.

“You might have been right. About… about taking a break,” you said, trying to keep your composure.

“No, Y/N, I was drunk, I didn’t mean it!” he pleaded through the phone.

“I know, but… you have a lot going on with your mom and you should be there for her. I don’t want to get in the way of your relationship with her,” you told him, biting your nails. As much as it broke you to say this, you only wanted him to be happy.

“Y/N I know what you’re trying to do. Please, please don’t do this,” he said, his voice cracking. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m sorry Spence,” you said before you hung up the phone. You turned your phone on silent and went back into the other room, where Penelope was wide awake to greet you with open arms and soothing words.

[oneyeartowrite]

First Fic: Bugged

Gordon strolled into the middle of the room, smug grin splitting his face, and just stood there, waiting for one of them to ask.

Scott opened his mouth, but Virgil’s finger wag snapped his jaw shut.

“Don’t ask…”

Gordon threw his arms out. “What do you mean don’t ask?”

Virgil turned his finger towards Gordon, jabbing it at him. Despite being stood across the room Gordon still clutched his chest at the suggestion of his brothers stabbing finger.

“I recognise that look.”

“What look?” Gordon threw his arms up again, still grinning smugly. His amber eyes crinkled, and he chuckled, a full-on pantomime-villain-kind of chuckle.

Scott lifted his eyebrow. “You’re aware we heard that, right?”

Gordon didn’t answer, he continued to grin, and look shifty as hell. Super-villain vibes rolled over the room. His face reddened and he curled his fingers towards his mouth, still laughing. Like a giggling child.

Scott spoke out of the corner of his mouth, directing his question to Virgil. “This freaking you out too?”

Virgil huffed. “I’m used to it.”

Gordon didn’t appear to be breathing. Too lost in his dastardly deeds. Scott and Virgil shared a concerned glance, then decided, if he needed to breathe, he’d breathe.

Alan strolled in, and instead of stepping down into the seating area, he jumped over the back off the sofa and landed on his knees.

“So…what’s happening?”

“We’re having a well-earned rest.” Scott told him. Then added with a glare. “And don’t climb over the back of the sofa like that.”

Alan didn’t apologise, he threw a look in Gordon’s direction, and smiled. “He told you yet?”

“No.” Virgil said. “And we’re not asking.”

Scott performed a zip motion across his lips.

“He’s gonna burst if you don’t ask him.” Alan said, looking to Gordon. His grin climbed higher. “Actually, keep it up. I want to see Gordon’s head go pop.”

“Alan.” Scott snapped.

He rolled his eyes in response. “Two strikes to me, I’m shutting up.”          

Gordon breathed finally, a long gulp of an inhale that made him bow. Scott and Alan didn’t react, but Virgil shuffled forward on his seat, mildly concerned his sibling might dropped to his knees.

He did, but not in a medical emergency kind of way, more the over dramatic—Gordon—kind of way.

“Is nobody going to ask me?”

“No.” Virgil said. “Get up.”

“I’ll hold my breath until I pass out if you don’t.”

Scott slammed his palm onto his forehead. “Fine—

Virgil’s eyebrows flew into his hairline. “Scott, no!”

“What have you done?”

Gordon sprung to his feet. “What have I done?”

“Yes. That is what I asked.”

Virgil dropped his head into his hands and growled. “Damn it Gordo, just get on with it.”

“Okay, okay.” He shook out his hands. “I’m a little excited that’s all.”

Alan glanced at him. “This isn’t going to go the way you think it will.”

“Don’t ruin it.” He took a deep breath. “So you know how John’s always listening, dropping into conversations, and generally, sticking his nose in where it’s not wanted.”

“Gordon,” Scott sighed. “Let it go. It wasn’t John’s fault he called you while you were practising your seductive poses in the mirror.”

Gordon narrowed his eyes. “He said I looked constipated.”

Alan grabbed a cushion to muffle his laugh.

“Anyway, I thought I’d get my own back on big brother in the sky.”

“Did you send him mouldy bagels?” Virgil asked.

“No, but I may one day. When I was up there helping him with maintenance, I might have hid a microphone.” He giggled into his fingertips again. “So we can hear Johnny.”

“That was your evil plan?” Virgil raised his eyebrow. “You put a microphone up there so you can hear him?”

“Yes!”

“We can all hear him. All we’ve got to do is press the button.”

Alan shrugged. “Not even press it, we wave our hand in the air over it.”

“Yes, yes.” Gordon said. “But he knows we’re listening. He doesn’t know about this, and it means we can listen in any time.”

Scott’s eyebrows met in the middle, and he spoke slowly, trying to keep the reins on his anger. “So let me get this straight. You decided it would be a good idea to invade John’s privacy by bugging thunderbird five.”

“Yes.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” Scott’s cheeks began to redden.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

Virgil sighed. “Gordo doesn’t understand subtly, Scott.”

“It’s a spectacularly bad idea!” Scott had released the reins. The blue of his eyes popped. “You know how sensitive he is about his privacy.”

“What about mine?” Gordon said.

“He called you for a rescue. It wasn’t your fault you were pouting and posing to Prince’s kiss and didn’t hear him.”

Gordon rolled his eyes, and looked away. “No privacy, and we live on an island!”

“Told you they wouldn’t like it.” Alan said. “I’m surprised Scott hasn’t ordered me up there to help John find it.”

Scott opened his mouth to do just that, but a finger wag from Virgil stopped him. Virgil, who was the second most sensitive Tracy brother behind John. Virgil who valued his privacy, and understood John’s need for his own. He was the one that stopped Scott.

“You would be able to hear him right now?”

Scott and Alan’s jaws dropped, and Alan, surprisingly, recovered his ability to speak first. “You can’t be serious?”

“It was a difficult last mission.”

He’d been on the comms to Virgil throughout, and when the mission ended, John had seemed quieter than normal. Something had been off, and when Virgil questioned him, he got the expected but no-less-frustrating, ‘fine’.  

Scott stood up. “Then let’s call him. The proper way.”

“He’ll just say he’s fine, but he’s not fine. I know he’s not, the whole time his voice, it sounded softer than normal.”

“You think he’s just gonna be walking around thunderbird five talking to himself? He’s alone up there.” Scott blinked. He’s alone up there. That outburst hurt. He dropped back down to the sofa.

“He’s not alone,” Alan said. “He’s got Eos.”

Gordon stood before them, not giddy and giggling anymore. He looked uncertain, like his grand plan had been a bad idea. He’d only wanted to lighten the mood, but maybe—just maybe eavesdropping on his John was a bad idea.

“Just once.” Virgil wasn’t speaking to Gordon, but Scott. His hands twitched on his knees, gripping them slightly. “Please Scott, just once, and then we can send Gordon back up there to debug five.”

“Just. Once.” Scott’s cold tone made them all shudder. He didn’t want to listen in, he didn’t want to spy, but this was John, and John was never forthcoming when something was troubling him. Virgil’s concern had sparked his own, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep, eat or think before it was resolved.

“Do it.” Virgil said.

Gordon spun around, tapped on his wrist strap and connected to thunderbird five.

“He can’t hear us though, right?” Scott asked.

“No. It’s just us that can hear him.”

There was only silence. They passed around a worried look then John spoke, sending Gordon a foot into the air. He screamed, then hid when John spoke again.

“I know what you’re doing.”

Alan hid under a cushion pretending to be a corpse, Gordon hid behind a plant making the leaves shake with his shivers, but Virgil and Scott froze helplessly, hearts racing and apologies tangling their tongues.  

“I’m not doing anything.” Came Eos childlike reply.

John sighed. “You’ve been nonstop talking at me for the last hour, usually I don’t mind, but why Eos, why are you asking me about celebrities, and pop culture, and make-up?”

Gordon’s head popped up from behind the plant. He blinked and looked around like meerkat. “Make up? John likes makeup.”

“Quiet.” Virgil snapped. “We’re supposed to be listening.”

John made a weird noise, it was only Alan who seemed to recognise it. “He yawned. He was doing that a lot on my mission earlier, but when I asked him how much sleep he’d gotten, he just said he was fine.”

“Fine.” Virgil muttered. “The evillest four-letter word.”

Gordon’s gaze trailed across the ceiling. “Wouldn’t the evillest four-letter word be evil?”

Virgil launched a cushion at him.

“You know why.” Eos whispered. “I’m trying to send you to sleep, and I might add, it appears to be working.”

John slurred something not one of them understood.

“But I think you’ll be more comfortable in your bed.”

“I can’t just go to bed.” John complained.

Something warm and gooey ran through Scott’s chest. John sounded like he did when he was younger, when he fought sleep like it was a demon just so he could read more.

“Things to do, rescues to coordinate, people to save,” John’s voice trailed off, “bagels to eat.”

“You need to sleep, John. Your brothers are starting to notice how tired you are.”

They all froze, and three pairs of guilty eyes fell on Virgil, the only one who’d thought John wasn’t quite himself. The one who rubbed his chin as he listened. Thick eyebrows pressing together as he frowned into space.

“They haven’t noticed.”

Scott’s heart twisted suddenly. How had he not noticed. John didn’t sound upset though, he sounded relived. Then he added just for good measure, and to irritate everyone listening in. “I’m fine Eos.”

Eos ignored his fine, and continued. “Virgil has noticed. Virgil’s worried about you, and I know you hate it when any of them worry about you.”

“Telling them I’m tired will make them worry.”

“Not telling them will make them worry, and angry too.” Eos countered. “I won’t keep hiding this from them any longer.”

“Eos,” Desperation filled John’s voice. He sounded wide awake again, and slightly panicked, “Don’t you dare call them.”

“I’m not going call them John, I wouldn’t do that, but I’m not gonna help you cover this up anymore.”

The brothers stared at each other in the silence. Cover for him? What did that mean? John’s silence spurred Eos to say more, to slap John around the face with what she was now unwilling to do.

“I won’t adjust the pitch of your voice, so you sound normal. I won’t touch up the hologram to hide how tired you look. I won’t change the readings on your suit—

“Okay, I get it.” John said.

“You need to rest. Not here, sprawled on the floor, but in a proper bed.”

Virgil was on his feet at sprawled on the floor. He glanced at Scott, and grew alarmed at the vein jumping at his temple. Angry Scott wasn’t pretty. He brought his arm up slowly, about to call John on the proper channel

“Wait.” Gordon said. “Just wait.”

Air wheezed in and out of Scott’s nose. He cared, they all knew he did, but his care tended to be explosive first, followed by the coddle-care.

“Eos?” John said.

“Yes, John.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course, I am. You don’t need to state the obvious.”

John sighed.

Then the alarm blared in the room, and they all pretended to look busy, except Virgil who stood waiting for John’s hologram to appear. It did. They all stared. Ruffled hair, and dark circles under John’s eyes, and cheekbones that could cut glass. He looked haunted, and didn’t make eye contact with any of them.

“I…the…could…if…may…”

Scott was controlling his anger, Alan, his fear of ghosts, and Virgil, he rocked forward on his toes as if considering tackling John’s hologram into the room.

Gordon brushed his hands down his shirt. He had this. Gordo’s time to shine. Breaking the atmosphere was his speciality.

“A+++ for the communication, bro.”

John smiled and lifted eyes up to meet him. “I’m tired.” His eyes drifted shut, and Virgil took a step forward, closer to John. “I’m really fucking tired. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry for being tired?” Scott said, exasperated.  

“No.” John lowered his head and looked slightly through the top set of his lashes at the brother mostly likely to strangle him for being an idiot. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“Come down.”  Virgil said, flexing his fingers at his sides. He needed to get his hands on John, needed to play Doctor Virgil and fix the man masquerading as his brother on the hologram.

“Thunderbird five is already in position.” Eos chirped. “The space elevator is ready for John.”

“See you soon.” John said, cutting comms.

Scott glanced at Virgil. They nodded.

“That microphones staying where it is.” Scott said.

“What about John’s privacy?” Alan asked.

“We’ll only invade it when we feel like we have too.” Scott stiffened. “When we feel like we have to.”

Someone released a long blistering sigh. They looked for the culprit before realising they were still connected to thunderbird five.

“See,” Eos said. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Scott looks like he’s gonna kill me….”

Scott blinked, and made a conscious effort to relax his shoulders. Yes, he wanted to kill John. He wanted to smother him to death with his concern.

“Alan looks afraid…”

Alan jumped, dropping the cushion he’d been clawing at. He was afraid, but only because his brother looked so exhausted. He’d only stop being afraid when he was home, in bed, on the mend.

“Virgil looks like he’s fiddling with invisible needles to stick in my arms…”

Virgil stopped twitching his fingers. Yes, John was getting an IV as soon as his arm was within reach, but he knew John hated it, he’d be gentle, and sit with him while it brought colour back into his face.

“And Gordon?” Eos asked.

Gordon swallowed and looked up at nothing. John wasn’t actually there, but he still looked up as if he was.

John laughed softly, a sound that made everyone in the room relax a fraction. Gordon smiled too, because he was the joker in the family, and lightening the mood was his god-given right.

“Gordon?” They could hear the smile in John’s voice. “Well, he still looks constipated.”

************************************************************************

I’m thinking about continuing this, more times the brothers eavesdrop on John. Let me know if anyone wants more!

[thealexchen]

One Year On: Life is Strange 2 Critique

December 3rd, 2020 marks a year since Life is Strange 2 ended. I was inspired by @smitethepatriarchy‘s text posts (here, but there are several other answered asks worth reading) and @suhaplays’s text post (here) criticizing Life is Strange 2 to write a critique about how Life is Strange 2 handled certain themes and social issues.

(tw: gun violence, police brutality, animal death, incarceration, racism. In this essay, I use the word “queer” in a reclaimed sense, as a queer person myself. Of course, spoiler warning for all five episodes of Life is Strange 1 and 2).

A year on, my feelings about this game have soured... a lot. When the game was first announced, I was overjoyed that our new protagonists would be two Latino boys. Finally, we would have a culturally meaningful, groundbreaking video game with people of color and their experiences at the forefront! 

Then the game was met with immediate backlash and I utterly exhausted myself defending it for weeks on Reddit and Tumblr. Throughout 2019, as the episodes came out I became increasingly disillusioned, frustrated, and disappointed with where the story was going. I couldn’t figure out why I felt so damn miserable while playing this game.

Then in the summer of 2020, when Tell Me Why began rolling out pre-release material, I noticed that they posted a Q&A about transphobia, gave content warnings, and discussed at length about their collaboration with GLAAD, Checkpoint, and the Huna Heritage Foundation to make the game with sensitivity and proper research. I cannot speak for trans and gender non-conforming people on whether Dontnod succeeded at doing so with Tell Me Why. But Life is Strange 2 did… none of that.

Essentially, I realized that the reason why I was so frustrated with LiS2 is because it focuses way too heavily on a trauma narrative. This comes off as insensitive to players of color without any content warnings or extensive research.

Sean didn’t have to get kidnapped, kicked in the face, and called a racial slur by a gas station owner. Daniel did not need to watch his puppy get mauled by a mountain lion for the sake of a “difficult choice.” Sean didn’t have to lose his eye for the sake of heightened drama. Sean didn’t need to get called a racial slur and humiliated by his native language/beaten in the desert for refusing to sing. Daniel didn’t need to get shot— twice. Hell, all of “Faith” probably could’ve been cut— how is a church cult that brainwashes Daniel and beats Sean half to death relevant at all to the story?

Even if not all of the game’s violence was racially motivated, the consistent trauma that Sean and Daniel endure does not make for positive representation— or even good characterization. There is a difference between sympathetic characters and well-written characters, and trauma does not make Sean and Daniel any more complex or likable-- just more fucking traumatized.

LiS2 is more grounded in reality, but that also makes plot holes that much harder to excuse (Daniel’s powers being spotted, most of the Parting Ways ending, Sean’s prison sentence). But most of all, it grounds all of Sean and Daniel’s pain and trauma in reality. 

There is no magicking away a town-destroying storm with time travel. Sean can’t keep his dad alive by ripping up a Polaroid. After Max unlocked her powers, she was still a Blackwell student, reconnecting with Chloe, taking photos, saving lives, and uncovering a murder mystery. After Daniel unlocked his powers, the Diaz brothers lost everything. 

The game never lets you forget that Sean and Daniel are homeless, wanted, constantly in danger, and that they are never getting their old lives back. It permeates the entire game, and for players of color, just reinforces a sad, miserable, grim reality about living in the United States. It is, as @smitethepatriarchy said, potentially triggering for players of color, and it is certainly not something I needed to be reminded of.

And the representation of POC? It feels shallow and ill-researched. It would only take a Google search to find out that Dia de Muertos (a holiday to honor the dead, no less) was from October 31 to November 2 in 2016, the year the game takes place, but Daniel only talks about Halloween in episode 1. Sean and Daniel never discuss any Mexican customs, foods, or holidays. Sean doesn’t speak Spanish with his immigrant father, only during a scene when he’s traumatized (again!) by two racists, and again when talking to Mexican immigrants— in jail. Daniel doesn’t speak Spanish at all. Most of their allies throughout the game are white, including Finn and Cassidy, who appropriate Black culture with their dreadlocks.

So what’s left? Sean and Daniel’s existence as people of color is, at worst, just a narrative prop to justify everything that happens to them. They are people of color on the surface only. In a meta-sense, the game only considers the color of their skin and their last names as what is narratively important… yikes.

I don’t have anything against people who genuinely loved the game and were moved by its messages and story. But I can’t help but feel bitter that white players have the luxury of only thinking of this game as a work of fiction and not feeling any personal reliability to Sean and Daniel’s racialized trauma.

I don’t regret playing LiS2, but I do regret all the time and energy I spent defending it in the beginning. I understand now that I shouldn’t let people’s opinions get to me, nor should I feel obligated to like or defend a game for its attempts at representation. But now, I think I understand how queer fans must have felt in late 2015 when Polarized released. After following the game for 10 months, to see that Chloe’s ultimate destiny was to die and Pricefield is another ship plagued by the Bury Your Gays trope (in the ending that the devs clearly put more work into) must have been just as disillusioning and infuriating. I understand why some fans were so quick to unfollow LiS or develop mixed feelings about the series, because that’s how I feel too after following LiS2’s development from September 2018 to December 2019.

Before I end, I will admit that Life is Strange 2 arrived at a time when I needed it. I still stand by my belief that DN did a great job characterizing Sean, Daniel, and Chris without toxic masculinity, which is the best thing they could’ve done for a male-focused follow-up to a game about queer women. I love that Sean is still a canonically bisexual man of color in a major video game and that DN didn’t forget their queer audience. I love the world and characters that DN built, but I still prefer AU fanfictions of their normal lives, without all that trauma. 

So, I will continue to treasure Lyla and her 10 minutes of screentime (aka the only shred of Asian American representation I can get from this series). I still reblog LiS2 fanart to support the artists. I still support Dontnod, because as Tell Me Why has shown, they are capable of researching and writing stories with more sensitivity. And let’s be honest-- I’m still gonna be hella excited if Life is Strange 3 is announced.

But so many aspects of Life is Strange 2 were bungled that it came off as a remarkably average and forgettable experience. A year on, I don’t hate Life is Strange 2, but I am writing this to move on from it.

Thank you for reading.

[superspookywombat]

Treetops {j.h}

Request:  “(Can you make it super angsty and fluffy please 🥰)

But can you make one where I’m walking around and get attacked by a vampire. Edward gets there just as I’m about to die and I beg for him to change me so I wouldn’t have to leave Jasper (he’s my mate) and he’s so sad for me because he feels like I’m a sister to him so he changes me just as my eyes close. He freaks out and takes me to the house where Carlisle is and Carlisle eases his mind that he had done it just in time(like with Bella in the end of the last one of breaking dawn part 1) . Then he when Jasper can’t find me he goes home all sad and worried and as he walks in Edward sits him down and tells him. He feels really bad and sits down by my side holding my hand just waiting as Alice and rose changes me into a cute summer dress. When I wake up it kinda like when Bella dose and Jasper is not there when I do so I end up going to look for him. In the end we just cuddle just happy to be together and read my favorite books.” from @faithie-brock-gillespie01​

Warnings: one use of a derogatory term (not a slur or anything), mentions of scars and nakedness but not too graphic in either

A/n: sorry i’ve been away for forever. yes, i’m still active and i see everything people send me (dm wise or in ask-form) anyway, i really really love this and i hope you do too

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You know it’s a bad idea. Growing up, everyone always told you not to walk alone at night. But, being the independent person you are, you took self defense classes and never went far without your pocket knife. But over the past year, being surrounded by your boyfriend Jasper all the time made you loosen the reigns a bit. Soon, the countless hours you spent in your basement practicing Hammer and Heel Palm strikes were faded lessons that sat collecting dust in the back of your mind. You didn’t have to worry about defending yourself when Jasper was always around to do it for you, and after graduating college, you would be almost indestructible like him anyway. So, yes, you know better than to be walking through the forest, in the dark nonetheless, but anger has clouded your common sense and that’s the excuse you were currently using to make yourself feel better.

The tall trees on either side of you make you feel claustrophobic. You take deep, shuddering breaths as you fight back tears. So maybe you’re sensitive, you’ve been told once or twice, but the thought of someone you thought to be one of your closest friends gossiping and spreading hurtful stuff about you would make anyone's throat tighten. Your roommate had approached you earlier in the week, she was planning a huge birthday party for your best friend back home in Forks. Of course you’d come, you said. You came home every weekend anyway, courtesy of your super generous boyfriend and his very illegal speeding. He even dropped you off at the party, which is what led to you running through the woods.

You had shown up to the party, a bottle of your best friend’s alcohol of choice in hand, and a black dress that stopped just before your knee tight on your body. The loud, booming music hurt your ears, but you soldiered through and greeted your friend with a hug.

“Happy birthday!” You said, a large smile stretching across your face. She laughed pulling you into her arms. 

“I wasn’t sure you were coming.” Your roommate that stood next to her said. You gave her a confused look, pulling back from the hug.

“What do you mean? Of course I’d come.” You said laughing it off. Holding up the alcohol, you asked where to put it.

“Over on that table.” Your best friend said. You smile and walk off, placing the hefty bottle on the colorfully covered table. You went to grab a solo cup, a glittery 22 printed neatly on the plastic. Filling it with your alcohol of choice, you brought it to your lips to take a sip.

“Should you really be doing that? While you’re.. You know.” A voice came from your right, and you glanced over to see a friend of your best friend.  

“While I’m what?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. Waiting for his response, you took a sip of the bitter drink.

“Pregnant.” He said. You choked on the alcohol, coughing as it dribbled down your chin. 

“Excuse me?” You asked, grabbing a napkin to wipe the drink before it reached your dress. 

“I just- I don’t- everyone’s been saying that you’re pregnant.” He sputtered, a pink tinge on his cheeks evident even through the flashing lights of the party.

“Well I’m not,” You chuckled nervously, somewhat amused. You leaned closer to him, lowering your voice. “Where did you hear that?”

His eyebrows furrowed. He leaned in close, mimicking what you had just done. When he murmured your best friend’s name, a cold sweat washed over your body. Your hands shook as you placed the drink back down on the table. Leaving him behind, you walked over to your best friend and grasped her arm, pulling her away and upstairs into a spare bedroom. 

“Tell me it isn’t true.” You demanded, fury igniting flames in your heart. She shut the door behind her, setting her drink down on the dresser.

She laughed dryly, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning on one leg. “Of course it’s true.”

“Why would you say something like that? You know I’m not.. Pregnant!” You yelled, stepping closer to her. 

“Don’t act like you’re so innocent. With all the unprotected sex you brag about having, you might as well be!” She said, matching your voice level. 

“It was one time! And he can’t get me pregnant anyway, I already told you that!” You replied, fighting back tears that tried to escape. 

“So? Who’s to say that you aren’t sleeping around with other people? Play stupid games, you get stupid prizes.” She said, rolling her eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really really sorry. I didn’t want to, Professor Michaels-” You started to say, but she slapped you before you could finish what you were saying. 

“I would never! Why would you do this? I thought we were friends?” You asked, hurt laced in your voice. She moved closer to you, the smell of alcohol creating waves off of her breath.

“I told you not to enter the contest. You knew how much it meant to me and you still entered. And you won. My parents won’t even make eye contact! They’ve taken away my weekly allowance!” She said, tears spilling over the heavily lined lower lid of her eyes. She poked a finger to your chest, causing nerves to fire up in pain.

“Professor Michaels this, Professor Michaels that; You’re probably sleeping with him too, you slut!” She screamed, clenching her fists at her sides. You take the full cup from the dresser, and splash her in her face. You both stood in silence for a moment, before you turned on your heel and briskly walked out of the room, slamming the door so loud that you could hear it over the music. People watched as you came down the stairs, but you avoided their gaze and ran out the back door into the cool night sky. You had almost brought Jasper to the party, schedules had finally lined up to introduce him to your friends since freshman orientation. Now you were glad you hadn’t. You hadn’t even thought about calling him for a ride, you were too blind with rage. But you’d soon come to regret letting emotions cloud your judgment. 

The smell of wet earth comforts you as you double over, hands on your knees and taking large gasps of air. As much as you would love to lean against a tree, you just bought this dress and you’re not ready to ruin it quite yet. You shiver, standing up straight and hugging yourself, trying to retain some warmth. As you look around, you notice that the only light in sight was the moon. The house is nowhere to be seen, and you pull your phone out of your pocket to see that you don’t have cell reception. Suddenly you aren’t cold anymore, your face flushing with anxiety as your newly calmed breathing speeds up again. But then you hear something that causes a false sense of security; footsteps. 

“Oh thank God.” You say, turning around. Before you can make out who’s there, you’re knocked to the ground. A sharp pain tears into the inside of your elbow, and you scream out in pain. Tears fall down your cheeks as you take a sharp intake of breath. 

“Jasper!” You scream at the top of your lungs. You know it’s a stretch, but the Cullen’s house is only a few miles away and there is a chance they could hear. “Please! Someone hel-”

A cool hand clamps over your mouth, snuffing any chance of words to escape. You sob as your blood drains, your body starting to shut down. As black starts flooding your eyesight, your attacker is flung off of you and crashes into a nearby tree. You gasp, fumbling to put pressure on the gushing wound. You curl into a fetus position, the sharp earth pressing into the skin of your face nothing compared to the gash in your arm. You can’t see well, but you can make out the garbled voices of Jasper’s brothers, Emmett and Edward. You think you hear Rosalie too. 

“Take care of y/n, we got ‘em.” Emmett says, referring to you. You feel cool hands lift your limp body, and you groan.

“Jasper..” You say. Tears stiffen your cheeks as you grow tired. Your eyes flutter closed and hands grasp your numbing arm. 

“It’s torn to shreds, there’s no chance of survival.” Edward says. You aren’t sure if he’s talking to you or himself.

“Please,” You muster the strength to say two more words. You just need to say two more words. “T-Turn.. Me.” 

“I can’t.” He says. You want to respond, but your body finally goes fully limp in his arms, and he makes a split-second decision. He buries his head in your neck and sinks his teeth in. You don’t feel it immediately, but soon, fire roars through your entire body. You groan in pain, not strong enough to make anything louder. Before you drift off, you feel wind whipping past your hair as you’re carried through the forest.

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“Carlisle!” Edward calls out, carrying your unresponsive body in his arms. He practically flies up the stairs into Carlisle’s office, and Emmett opens the door before he can kick it down. The doctor strides over, eyebrows pulled together in worry.

“What happened?” He asks. Edward’s at a loss for words, his mouth agape. “Edward, what happened?” 

“We- I- There was screaming.. And then we found a newborn on top of her. Her arm is torn to shreds, there’s no way she would survive it.” Edward says, his gaze avoiding your body. Carlisle senses his uncomfort, and motions for him to set you down on an exam table. You lay on the vinyl, looking almost peaceful if it wasn’t for the blood slathered over your neck and upper torso. 

“Tell me I did the right thing..” Edward pleads. Carlisle glances up at him while examining your arm.

“She would have been turned regardless. You just sped up the process.” He reassures. Edward, obviously, can tell that Carlisle is being sincere. You had literally asked for it, of course, but still he felt guilty. The taste of blood on his tongue became too much, and he turned around, stalking out of the room. Though the door shut behind him, it was reopened by Esme, peeking her head in. She brings her hand to her mouth, clearly shocked. 

She walks over, yet still keeping her distance. “Someone needs to find Jasper.” She murmurs through her palm.

“Bring me water and a sponge, please.” He asks softly, pain straining his voice. Esme nods and leaves. Carlisle sighs, placing his hands on the table and looking down at you. When he first met you, he was worried. He knew that you were intelligent and was scared that you’d figure out their secret prematurely. But soon after, you weaseled your way into their hearts. It was only a few months in when you found out, and it shocked everyone with how nonchalant you were about it. Then about a month after that, you discussed your future with Jasper and decided that after graduation you’d join them and their undeadness. That was the plan.

Downstairs, Edward’s phone rings. The caller ID says his brother’s name, though he’s not sure how to answer. 

“Hello?” Edward answers. ‘Hello’ seems too relaxed, he thinks. 

“Alice called me. She said she can’t see Y/n anymore. Something happened at the party and she’s not answering her phone.” Jasper says, sounding as out of breath as a vampire can. Edward glances at Rosalie, whose face is neutral, though she seems to find comfort in Emmett’s arm around her.

“You need to come home.” Edward says, then closes the flip phone and drops it onto the couch. It rings again, but the room remains still until Esme brushes past with a tub of water and a sponge.

“He’s going to need your support.” Esme says. Rosalie looks up and crosses her arms, shrugging from Emmett’s embrace.

“He should have known better than to get attached to a human.” She says, though halfheartedly. 

“I’ll ground you.” Esme warns as she ascends the stairs. She knocks on Carlisle’s office door, then enters. Placing the bowl down next to him, she hugs him from behind and wraps her arms around his stiff torso. Pressing her head between his shoulder blades, he relaxes in her hold. “He did the right thing, right?” 

“I.. I believe so, yes. Jasper would be ruined without her.” Carlisle says, not sure if he’s reassuring himself, or her. “You can leave, I need to get the blood gone before he gets here.” 

“He’ll be here soon. Edward hung up in him.” She responds. Carlisle sighs, and grabs the sponge, dipping it in the water. He drags it over your exposed skin as Esme exits, red, watery streaks running down and pooling in your collarbone area. He leaves the areas covered by clothes for Alice or Esme to clean, not that he expects there to be much there anyway. Once you appear to be blood-free, he takes a large bandage and covers your arm, but is soon interrupted by a door slamming and glass shattering on the lower level. 

“Carlisle’s up there, y/n’s in good hands.” Edward says, placing a tentative hand on Jasper’s shoulder. He shakes off his brother’s touch, striding up the stairs three at a time. He enters the room and rushes over to you, his eyes examining every inch of your ghostly silhouette. He hesitates, but then takes your hand and presses it to his lips. He closes his eyes, feeling as close to crying as he’s ever felt before. A chair scraping the floor takes him by surprise, which is something that doesn’t happen much to vampires. 

“What happened?” He murmurs, lips tickling the soft skin on the back of your hand. He sits in the chair Carlisle offered, but doesn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Newborn attack. Edward, Emmett, and Rose found her.” Carlisle says. Jasper stares blankly at your paler-than-normal face. 

“She was supposed to call me when she was ready to leave. Why was she in the woods?” He asks. 

“I can’t answer that.” 

“Will she.. Is she going to wake up? Will she turn?” He asks. Carlisle folds his arms and leans against his desk. 

“I think so, yes.” He answers. Jasper looks at his father for a moment, then returns his gaze back to you. “All we can do now is wait.” 

After a few days, you started to show signs of improvement. You had slimmed out in some places, filled out in others. The warm hues of your skin color had completely drained, and there was a raised scar on your neck from Edward’s venom. He tried very hard not to think about it, but whenever he saw it he felt a twinge of jealousy in his belly. If Edward had heard him think it, he was generous enough not to mention it. Turning someone is intimate, for most vampires at least, and he had been looking forward to a special night. He’d give you a few more ‘human experiences’ (wink wink) and then bite you before returning to the Cullen house. But now his brother had laid claim on you, whether it was intentional or not.

Alice bounds through the door, Rosalie in tow. Rose holds a dress folded over the crook of her arm, a flash of what Jasper recognizes as your favorite color all over it. Alice flips you onto your side, rather roughly, and Jasper jumps to his feet.

“What are you doing?” He asks. Rosalie unzips the back of your black dress and starts to pull it off of your shoulders.

“Getting your girlfriend naked.” She says, fighting back a smug smile. Jasper holds his hand up, shielding your body from his view.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before, Jas.” Alice says with a chuckle.

 “Not while she’s unconscious.” Jasper takes one last look at your unobstructed face, then leaves the room. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turn me. Your words echo in your mind, and you jolt into a sitting position. You blink a few times before your eyes come into focus. You glance down, your hands turned palms up. You can see every fine detail of your fingerprints, the undersides of your fingernails darkened from clawing at the earth, but the tops freshly painted over. Your hair flutters down over your eyes, and the sun shines through the strand, creating a glowing effect that you’ve never noticed so intensely before. You swallow, your throat feeling like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together. You run your fingers over your neck, lips parting when you feel the puckered skin that.. Edward? No way. You slide off of the vinyl exam table and your bare feet touch the floor. You skate across to the other side of the room to a floor length mirror, and you gasp when you see your reflection.

It doesn’t much look like you, but it mimics your movement and expressions so well that it must be. Your hair has grown at least half an inch, and your body is sleek and toned. You run your palms down your torso and the thin, silky fabric of a fit & flared summer dress makes your insides smile. You twirl, feeling light on your feet, and the fabric flows around like a graceful tornado. You laugh, a melodic, bubbly sound bouncing off of the walls. The noise comes to a halt in your throat as you catch a glimpse of your arm out of your peripheral vision, however. You pull your arm into your full vision, and feel almost lightheaded when you see a large area of the skin patched together and covered in a thick bramble of scars. There’s a knock in the doorway, and you let your arm go limp before taking a hesitant step towards your boyfriend. 

“You’re awake.” He says. You nod. “Are you thirsty?” You nod again. He takes a step forward, and in a moment, you meet in the middle and he sweeps you into his arms. You inhale his scent, stronger than you’ve ever smelled it before, as you rest your head into the crook of his neck. 

“I’m sorry.” You say, and though it doesn’t really sound like you, the words come from your heart. He inhales your scent too, nuzzling his nose into your hair. 

“For what?” He asks, but the strain in his voice lets you know that he knows. You turn your head, your cheek on his shoulder, and close your eyes.

“We had a plan.” You say. 

“It’s okay.” He reassures. You can feel the calmness radiating off of him in waves of serenity, and since the night in the woods, you’ve craved this more than anything.

“I love you.” You say, and even though it wasn’t the first time exchanging those three words, it was the first time they held such an impact. 

Two months have gone by, and vampirism suits you well. You moved out of your dorm, and now you’re finishing your degree virtually. You cut off ties with your college peers, and found a new community back home. Jasper almost never left your side (save for book club every other Tuesday) and you both decided to get married the next spring. 

“Shh, I’m trying to read.” You lightheartedly complain, gently pushing Jasper and causing him to almost fall off of the tree you both are lying in. The branch dips slightly as he redistributes his weight to support you resting against his chest. His arms hold you close as you try to focus on the book in your lap, but between the view of the water from the treetop and his persistent need for attention, you fail. He snatches the book from your lap and softly grasps your chin, turning your head to bring his lips to yours. 

[danger-xylophones]

A New Chapter (Echo x reader)

{masterlist}

Warnings: It’s implied that the reader has depression, some angst sprinkled in

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

When Rex commed you to come to Anaxes on the next medical transport - you’d expected the worst. You were trying to prepare yourself to hear more bad news. You’d expected to be told that Rex had lost another one of his closest brothers and one of your dearest friends. You’d already lost so many...Echo, Hardcase, Tup, Fives..Echo’s death destroyed you first and left room for every following death to slowly chip away at your resolve. You feared that hearing you’d lost Kix, Jesse, or Cody might just do you in before you could begin to be there for Rex.

So, you frantically scrambled to steel yourself before the transport landed - keeping a death grip on the handle by your head to keep your self grounded. You knew that your fellow medics, clone and nat-born alike, were silently questioning you. As the head nurse you were expected to be composed, cool-headed, great under pressure, and a genuine calming presence. For you to be nervous enough for it to be reflected in your shifting stance and death grip was disconcerting. 

As the transport initiated its landing sequence you took in one long steadying breath and braced yourself for whatever news awaited you beyond the doors. They opened with a hiss and your fellow medics immediately sprung into action unloading supplies and gurneys while you waded through the sea of activity in search of a certain captain. He was waiting for you by the entrance to the barracks. With his helmet on, it was harder to discern what he was feeling but for the most part he stood tall and proud in a perfect soldier stance with his hands clasped behind his back. He was busily conversing with someone you couldn’t see. You were confused now - you’d seen Rex after a heavy loss. His shoulders always sagged, his whole form took on a heaviness to it that was only ever abated with time and the comfort of some good wine you’d often smuggle in for him. He was never this...normal. Rounding a few stacked crates revealed to you that the person Rex was talking to was actually three people consisting of Jesse (thank the maker) and two clones you barely recognized as clones. 

After a loud clearing of your throat you called out to him. Rex turned to you and removed his helmet in one fluid motion and you were surprised to see him beaming at you. “Vod’ika!” He chirped and started walking towards you with Jesse in tow whilst ignoring the intrigued looks of the other two clones - one had really long hair and a headband wrapped around his crown and the other, significantly shorter, peered at you with large eyes hidden behind a pair of blocky glasses. You met Rex in the middle and he quickly pulled you into a one armed hug that you barely returned thanks to being caught so off guard. “Glad you’re here.” He muttered next to your ear before retreating so Jesse could also pull you into a quick hug. 

“I’d say I’m glad to be here,” you began as you pulled away from the arc trooper, “but I don’t know why I am.” You finished with a pointed look at Rex that told him to start explaining. 

His smile fell a bit, though it didn’t completely disappear, “It’s...a long story and it’s better to just show you. C’mon.” He swung his arm for you to follow him, already walking towards the barracks. You hesitated, casting a confused look at Jesse who just offered you an impish grin in reply before strutting after the captain. With a steadying sigh you followed after the two kama wearing clones. 

You passed many troopers as the captain and arc trooper led you further inside the barracks, most from the 501st, some from the 212th, a lot from the 187th, and at least two who you couldn’t identify as being from any legion but they were wearing the same armor as the other two who had been talking to Rex and Jesse when you arrived. The taller of the two (the much taller of the two - was he even a clone? Or was he a Natborn that vaguely resembled the millions of brothers?) watched you walk away with his one functioning eye and a poorly hidden whisper to his friend. “’Think that’s the gal he’s been askin’ about?” 

“Looks like ‘er.” The smaller of the duo answered in a grating voice. 

Your brow furrowed - a lot of clones tended to ask about you given your tendency to move between legions and battalions but it was rare that they talked about you to the extent that someone who’d never met you could recognize you. If you were honest, it was a little unnerving. But, despite your best effort to keep the thoughts at bay, you were briefly reminded of a conversation you’d once had with Fives. 

“He talks abou’ you a lot, y’know.” The newly promoted arc trooper slurred as he heavily leaned against you. He vaguely gestured in the direction of his aforementioned brother where he leaned against the bar, armor glinting in the low lighting, after he timidly offered to get you a new drink. You’d protested, telling him it was his big night, you’d get the drinks but he took off before you could even get to your feet. “Just too shy to do anything but that.” 

“What does he say?” You asked the drunken trooper quietly as your pulse began to speed up. You, admittedly, hadn’t taken much interest in Echo at first - you thought him boring and stiff - but recently he’d been challenging your perception of him. And you’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t started to admire the capable, quick-witted, snippy, but kind, sensitive, and charming soldier. 

“Says ‘e likes you, wish he could work up the nerve to talk to you, thinks you’re the prettiest damn medic in the GAR, thinks you’re a kriffin’ genius...and, ‘m pretty sure he’s in love with you.” Fives took another hearty swig of his drink, shutting up for the first time in what seemed like hours, which gave you enough time to consider his words. While you didn’t want to put all your faith in the drunken mess of an explanation Fives had given you - he did know his twin the best and he’d never lied to you. Maybe - you took another good long look at Echo - just maybe, - you saw him take a deep breath as the bartender handed him your drinks, almost like he was trying to psych himself up - you’d take a chance. You met Echo’s gaze as he turned around, sending him a fond smile that he sheepishly returned. 

Rex led you to a separated part of the med bay primarily meant for rehabilitation where he finally came to a halt just before the door. “Now,” he began as he turned to you, Jesse stopped at your side with crossed arms and a strange, conspiring smile on his face, “I want you to walk between Jesse and I.” Rex ordered quietly as if scared of being overheard. 

Your brow furrowed immediately. “Why?” 

“In case ya faint.” Jesse answered back. 

With a roll of your eyes that could rival the likes of Wolffe’s, you turned to the ARC trooper. “Jesse, I’m a field medic whose spent most of her career on the front lines dealing with a menagerie of injuries. I’m sure whatever it is, I can handle it.” 

“Be prepared to eat those words.” Jesse muttered under his breath in retort but you elected not to respond, instead, you turned your attention back to Rex who was staring at you uncertainly. 

“All the same, let me go in first and make sure he’s ready.” Rex offered gently with a softly placed hand on your shoulder. He had an odd look in his eyes - somewhere between apprehensive, compassionate, and elated - as he looked at you. 

“You’re the captain...” You muttered, suddenly feeling on edge. Jesse must have noticed your tense form for he softly grabbed your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Rex nodded to Jesse then to you before strolling in to the room. The door slid into place behind him leaving you and Jesse for a few minutes. The ARC trooper didn’t let go of your hand till Rex came back and gestured with a nod of his head for the two of you to come in. Rex went back in first, followed by Jesse, with you taking up the rear. The air was strangely tense as you followed behind the two clone troopers so you couldn’t stop your mind from preparing itself to see the worst. While not uncommon for you to visit patients in the middle of rehabilitation it wasn’t why you were part of the GAR. It was just something you’d started doing after serving with the clone forces for so long. But never before had you been nervous. Without warning, Jesse stopped right in front of you causing you to bump into his back. Instead of laughing at you like you thought he would, Jesse angled his body enough for you step in front of him and gently encouraged you to do so with a hand between your shoulder blades. 

You came to a halt in front of him and the ARC trooper kept his hand where it was as if trying to steady you. Seriously, why were they being so weird? You still couldn’t see very far into the room - only the equipment shoved against the walls closest to the door - thanks to Rex who stood in front of you. There was no talking. Rex dipped his head at whoever was in the room and stepped to the side. 

Before you was a trooper dressed in red fatigues. His frame was thin, cheeks sunken in, and his skin unnaturally pale. And he was missing an arm which had been replaced with a computer interface arm one would expect to see on an R-series. His head had also been shaved which revealed small, port like protrusions out of his skull. And upon glancing your eyes downward, you noticed that the trooper’s legs had been replaced with mechanical ones. Not to be flippant but he looked like he’d been through hell and back. 

With a deep breath, you let a mollifying smile slip onto your lips and a sympathetic look fill your eyes. “Hello,” you kept your voice soft too, just in case the trooper was nervous, “My name is Dr. L/n. What’s yours?” 

His brow furrowed and it was only now, after his expression had changed, that you noticed that it had once been almost hopeful. Now, he looked confused. Or more accurately, conflicted. His pale brown eyes were frantically darting back and forth as if searching your face for an answer to a question that was left unasked. “I-it’s me.” He finally spoke in a frail voice. You cocked your head to the side. That was adimttedly an odd name but who were you to judge? Just as you were opening your mouth to speak, he continued. “Cyare, it’s me.” Your mouth clamped shut as the first word slipped from him as the instinct to snap briefly took over. Only one person got to call you that. 

“Trooper, forgive my bluntness but-” 

“Meshurok.” Hearing that word made it feel as though ice had been injected into your body. Shivers ran up and down your spine and goose bumps formed all over. No one had called you that since...Echo. 

“How...?” You felt your body start to fall back only to be stopped by a hand between your shoulder blades. Jesse was still there and Rex was standing just off to the side. They were both real. But was he...?

“When I first worked up the nerve to ask you out, you were wearing a necklace with a kyanite pendant. I asked you where you’d gotten it and what it was.” The trooper took a careful step forward and you felt your heart begin to speed. “You told me it was gifted to you by a young Twi’lek girl you helped when you were on Ryloth with the 187th.” He took another step. “She’d gifted it to you and told you that it was it represented new beginnings.” You took a step forward, eyes wide. “I asked if I could be a part of your new beginnings.” You took another step forward. 

“And I said ‘only if I get to be a part of yours’.” Your voice was wispy, choked with old ghosts. “Echo...” Before you knew it, you were wrapped in his arms. “Echo.” You didn’t care that your voice trembled with barely restrained sobs or that Jesse and Rex were barely three feet away. All you cared about was how familiar he felt - familiar and safe. Home, your mind supplied. “I-I, but the citadel and the ship - I...you...oh god.” You pulled back, almost giving yourself whiplash in the process as your instincts took over. Your hands reached up to gently hold the sides of his face while you reevaluated his appearance. “How did you survive the ship?” Your fingers were busily skimming all the alterations that had most likely been forced onto your cyar’ika. You noticed that his eyelids fluttered closed at the sensation of your fingers on his skin and it made your heart squeeze in both affection and the need to protect him. 

“I don’t really know, mesh’la. I just remember trying to take the ship, it exploding, and then waking up being dragged.” Echo whispered, keeping his hand stubbornly fixed on your waist. Behind you there was the sound of the door sliding closed which you guessed was Rex and Jesse making their exit. 

“Kriffing droids, how dare they touch you,” At some point in your speedy assessment you started to mutter, “I should go there and tear each one to scraps with my bare hands.” 

Echo chuckled and it was enough to bring tears to your eyes, your hand paused just above the computer interface arm. “Who did this to you?” Although it was whispered, Echo heard you clear as day. 

He sighed and gently rested his head against yours, “Seps, techno union - they don’t matter.” 

“They hurt you - I’m going to find them and kill them myself.” 

“I thought your whole thing was ‘do no harm’.” Echo quipped and the smile that followed, though no where near as wide as you were used to, was warm and genuine and enough to pacify you for now. 

“I can make exceptions.” You muttered but the fire had died down. Another puff of air brushed against your face - another reminder that Echo really was here. 

“Later then.” He pressed his lips against your forehead and drew you closer. You sighed and melted against him, the happiest you’d been in a long time as the first few words of another new chapter formed before your very eyes. 

Taglist: @apocalypticwafflekitten / @cherryxcyarika / @pinkiemme / @justalittlecloud 

[mediaevalmusereads]

The Alienist. By Caleb Carr. New York: Random House, 1994.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: historical fiction, mystery, suspense

Part of a Series? Yes, The Kreizler Series #1

Summary:   The year is 1896. The city is New York. Newspaper reporter John Schuyler Moore is summoned by his friend Dr. Laszlo Kreizler—a psychologist, or “alienist”—to view the horribly mutilated body of an adolescent boy abandoned on the unfinished Williamsburg Bridge. From there the two embark on a revolutionary effort in criminology: creating a psychological profile of the perpetrator based on the details of his crimes. Their dangerous quest takes them into the tortured past and twisted mind of a murderer who will kill again before their hunt is over.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: ableism, homophobia/transphobia, racism (including slurs), sexism, rape, abuse, child abuse and sexual assault, child prostitution, animal cruelty, blood, gore, violence

Overview: This book has been on my TBR list for a while, so I figured I’d finally get around to reading it. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I was actually surprised by how much I enjoyed the reading experience. Carr writes in a way that pretty closely imitates 19th century detective fiction, and while such a style might not be for everyone, I thought it went a long way in creating atmosphere. My criticisms have mostly to do with pace and the creative decisions that probably didn’t have to be made (such as depictions of child sexual assault, use of slurs, etc), but even with those faults, I have to give Carr’s craft and research a lot of credit, so this book gets 4 stars from me.

Writing: As I mentioned above, this book mimics detective fiction of the 19th century. If you’ve read any of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories, you might get the idea: first person, characters displaying almost whimsical behavior, stuffed with contextual details that may or may not be relevant. At first, I thought the reading experience was going to be a slog, but once I realized what Carr was trying to do, I readjusted my expectations and found the prose to be quite engaging. If you like 19th century literature, you might appreciate what Carr does, but if you find older lit to be a challenge, this book might not be the thriller you’re hoping for.

That being said, I do think there were some areas where Carr could have picked up the pace or even cut some of the contextual details. It’s obvious that Carr did a lot of research before writing this book, and it’s understandable that he would want to show off some of that research, but there were times where I felt like it was a little much.

I also think there are a lot of things in this book that will offend modern sensibilities. I recall at least one use of the N-word (which is spoken by a racist minor character) as well as remarks that make it clear that characters think same-sex intimacy is “deviant” or abhorrent. I can understand why Carr put them in his book; if we’re trying to evoke an atmosphere and make the story feel like it’s set in the 19th century, it’s not realistic to expect everyone to be accepting of gay sex or treat POC with respect. But also, I think it’s on Carr to bear the responsibility of creating plot points and characters that have those attitudes in the first place. The character who uses the N-word could have easily not done so, and characters could have been more clear that their revulsion was at child prostitution rather than same-sex relationships.

Still, I was able to follow the plot with no problem and the sentences flowed in a way that made the reading experience feel quick (no 10-line sentences, thank god). So while there may be some things I would have liked to see adjusted to fit my own tastes, I think Carr did a wonderful job of making me feel like I was reading an older work.

Plot: The plot of this book follows a group of investigators as they try to use psychology to catch a serial killer. As far as being an “original” or unique thriller, this book doesn’t necessarily deliver a plot we haven’t seen before; but what made it so interesting (at least to me) was that it was less interested in the thrill of catching the killer and more interested in thinking through the “whys.” Why did the killer do X? Why did he do Y and Z when he could have done A or B? In this sense, the suspense doesn’t come from the action or the “chase,” but from the building of ideas and a foggy picture becoming more and more clear.

If I can fault Carr for anything, it’s that I think he crafted his mystery around some subjects that are... touchy (for lack of a better word). Most of the murder victims are children - specifically child prostitutes - and a lot of the killer’s motivations are rooted in some combination of racism and exposure to abuse. If you’re looking for a book which handles these issues with sensitivity, I think you’ll be disappointed. But I have to give Carr some credit for not overly sensationalizing these things; for example, while he did include characters who were racist towards Native Americans, he also included characters who were sympathetic and who insisted on not judging tribes for their defensive violence. Not everything is perfect, and there were some moments that made me uncomfortable, but I felt like Carr painted a complex picture of 19th century America, so I was able to keep going.

Characters: The plot of this book is told from the perspective of John Schuyler Moore - a newspaper reporter who teams up with his friend, eminent psychologist Dr. Laszlo Kreizler, to catch a serial killer. As a protagonist, Moore isn’t overly compelling - he’s more like a neutral, blank slate that the reader can project themselves onto. He serves much of the same function as Watson in the Sherlock Holmes stories: to be a witness to other characters’ brilliance while occasionally making some helpful insights. Still, I didn’t outright hate Moore - he was kind and loyal, and I admired how he went out of his way to try to help people.

Kreizler, the psychologist (or “alienist” as they were called in those days), is somewhat of a Sherlockian character in that he’s eccentric, confident, and had abilities that stun the people around him. For the most part, Kreizler was fun to follow. I think the only times I got truly frustrated with him were when he would allude to some knowledge and then leave Moore in the dark - like “aha! This thing is obvious!” “What thing?” “No time to explain! I’ll tell you at dinner!” Those moments were a little irritating.

Sarah, the most prominent female character, was more complex than I expected her to be. She has clear career aspirations and doesn’t let anyone hold her back, and I liked that she was presented as this kick-ass woman who still felt human. She struggles when faced with the horrors of the murder, but she doesn’t let the horror put her off of her task. She’s confident and never seems to have a moment of self-doubt (which is refreshing). She notices interpersonal things without being boxed in as “the woman who notices emotions.” Granted, Sarah does serve some token function - she’s brought on in order to provide a “female perspective,” which was a little frustrating, but she held her own so well that my annoyance melted away.

Marcus and Lucius, the two brothers who work for the police department, are also quite charming characters. I loved how they brought technical expertise to the group by being knowledgeable about anatomy, fingerprints, photography, and the like, and I especially enjoyed the way they bickered with one another. Their presence immediately made scenes feel lighter, and they brought something of a family aspect to the whole band.

Supporting characters were well-crafted in that no two felt quite the same. Teddy Roosevelt (yes, that one) was cheerful and warm while still demanding absolute cooperation and loyalty from his men. Cyrus and Stevie - two of Kreizler’s employees - were charming, though I wish Cyrus had gotten to do more than just kind of silently stand by awaiting orders. Mary - Kreizler’s maid - was a lovely character, and I appreciated the positive disability representation we got with her, though I do not like how her character arc ended and how it related to the main plot. The crime bosses were intimidating without feeling too much like stock characters, the thugs did their job. I don’t think there was a character that was poorly written, just characters who served purposes that may or may not have been needed.

As for the murderer... we don’t get to see him very much, but I felt like I got to know him because so much of the book was focused on mapping out his life and psychology. It worked much better than books where the antagonist is looming off to the side, acting as a vaguely threatening force but not really a character, and one that doesn’t even show up until the last quarter of the book. When the killer finally does appear on page, I felt like he had been involved in the story, even without being physically present, so I was able to accept him as an active force on the narrative, not just a surprise twist at the end.

TL;DR: The Alienist is a well-crafted mystery that uses atmosphere and psychology to create an engaging mystery. While some readers may struggle with the period-like prose or the more disturbing aspects of the story, Carr creates a compelling narrative by focusing on understanding and knowledge over spectacle and action, and by using well-developed characters.

[liannyeong]

Crimson (Chapter 9)

Summary: Yujin realizes her feelings.

Word count: 4473

Pairing: Jaebeom X OC

Warning(s): fluff, and a mild mature scene

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

A/N: Sorry for the delay, but here’s a longer chapter! ^^ Had more fun writing this chapter for some reason :p Anyway, do show your support for my works by buying me a coffee! Follow me on Twitter for random updates.

Standing in front of the mansion, Yujin has never felt anything like this before. It's like she finally has her life in her hands, perfect in every way she wants it. It’s as if the lever has switched in her mind, because she actually feels excited about what her future will hold. The eagerness in her to truly live her life by Jaebeom's side, as his equal, as his life partner. She realizes that there's nothing more that she wants, but the happiness of being with a beloved one. It feels like coming back home.

Yujin hears the howling of the wind, the rustling of the trees. She glances at the garden, the path beyond the arch as mellow as ever. The plants are well-maintained by the Earth faes, Yujin supposes. The greenery is as vibrant as it is. Before she turns back to the mansion, she notices a small flicker of light inside the garden. Momentarily, she catches a glimpse of the long pathway, as if there’s something in there that wants her to enter.

“What’s wrong?” Jaebeom’s voice snaps her from her thoughts.

“The garden…” she mutters, frowning that the light is gone. “I thought I saw something…”

Jaebeom follows her eyes, but then dismisses it. “Come, the others are waiting for us,” he says as his hand goes to her waist, urging her into the mansion.

When the front doors are pushed open, it reveals the servants lining up neatly, a smile on their faces. “Welcome home, Master and Lady Im!” they greet in chorus, bowing politely.

Yeri steps forward, her eyes shining in delight. “Let me take your bags for you,” she offers.

“We have prepared a feast for you in the dining hall,” Chan pipes up, gesturing at the room.

Jaebeom nods, ushering Yujin with a hand on the small of her back. Yujin hears a soft giggle from Yeri, who shoots her a knowing look. Yujin rolls her eyes at the female, but she can’t help the blush on her face. Yujin realizes she did miss Yeri’s presence.

Like a gentleman, Jaebeom pulls out the chair for Yujin. He opts to take the seat next to her, instead of the one at the head of the table. Truly, Chan has prepared a feast for their return, and Yujin doubts she can even finish them all. The servants leave the couple alone as they dine.

“I’ll be dealing with some matters later. If you need anything at all, do ask the servants,” the male says, much to Yujin’s dismay. They had a whole week to themselves and it was enough to make her forget about Jaebeom and his hectic schedule. It’s back to reality now. Still, Yujin fears that the routine that they just created will stop. She’s worried that the time they spend together would dwindle.

"I'll make time for you, I promise," Jaebeom placates the female, noticing her disappointment. "I'll be sure to have my meals with you, especially breakfast and dinner."

"Why not lunch too?" Yujin asks, lips jutted out in a pout.

He sighs, placing a hand on her knee. "If I have lunch with you, there is no way I can get anything done. Anyway, isn't it great that I'm spending time with you for breakfast and dinner? That way, I can start and end my day with you."

The male taps her nose and there's something so endearing about it. Yujin would be lying if she didn't like the things he said.

“But what matters do you have to handle anyway?”

There’s a moment of hesitation before Jaebeom finally answers. “I want to start a revolution.”

Yujin pauses her chewing and stares at the male.

“I don’t want any halflings, or any other non-pure-blooded faes to experience what I went through,” he continues. “I want to protect them, to give them strength. So, I’m snooping around, trying to recruit more of these faes. At the same time, I’m gathering information for the loopholes of the Fae courts.”

“Why did you not tell me this?” Yujin asks softly.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t support it.”

“Oh, Jaebeom,” she lets out. She cups his face with her hands. “You have such a pure heart. How can I not support your goodwill?”

The fae takes her hands and presses a kiss into her fingertips. “Oh, how lucky I am to have you by my side.”

Yujin smiles at him, before pecking on his lips. They continue with their meal, but Jaebeom has her chair pulled closer, such that their thighs touch. He doesn’t even let go of her, always keeping a hand on her somehow. As they eat in silence, his hand initially goes around her hip. Then, he retracts it for a moment before placing it on her knee. As time goes by, his hand slides up slowly, tracing up her thigh. Yujin shifts in her seat, feeling sensitive despite the layer of clothing. Yet, his touch burns through, as if his hand is directly on her skin. She tries to push his hand away, suddenly aware that they’re in a common area. The servants might come in unannounced! Fortunately, Jaebeom hovers his hand when he notices her fidgeting. But it is short-lived, for he looks over his shoulder, a knowing look on his face. Yujin avoids meeting his eyes and pretends that she’s unaffected by anything at all. 

The hand disappears but Jaebeom tips her chin, then she feels a thumb smear against her lips.

“Such a messy eater,” Jaebeom's voice drops low, and it induces a hot feeling in her stomach.

At this point, Yujin throws caution to the wind. She curls her fingers around his wrist, keeping it in place. Her eyes locked on Jaebeom’s face, she darts out her tongue and licks the smudge on his thumb. There is no way she can miss the way his eyes grow dark and heavy. Jaebeom stares at her, fixated on watching the movement of her tongue. Yujin sucks his thumb, hollowing her cheeks. Then, she licks a final stripe up before pulling away, a string of saliva connected to the thumb. Lastly, she releases her hold on his wrist. She notices how Jaebeom’s throat bobs as he swallows.

“There, all clean,” Yujin mutters.

Jaebeom lets out a shaky exhale. He opens his mouth--

They hear a whistle in the room. Jinyoung is standing at the edge of the table, a plate in his hand. 

“Congratulations to the new couple. But I suppose the honeymoon wasn’t enough?” Jinyoung comments offhandedly, ignoring the blush that appears across their faces. How long had the fae stood there as an audience? The electricity that was coursing between the two of them immediately dissipates, replaced by embarrassment. Yujin can’t even describe how much she wants to ground to swallow her up right now. The Water fae takes a seat across them as if he saw nothing at all. He states plainly, "Because if you don't mind, I'm just trying to have a peaceful breakfast here. In the dining hall. A common area.”

"You're just jealous you haven't got anyone in your life!" Jaebeom snarls.

"Even so, you must know that there is something called the bedroom for such acts?" Jinyoung retorts, calmly taking a bite off his sausage.

Jaebeom thrusts his fingers forward, and a string of fire lashes towards the Water fae. Jinyoung dismisses it easily, waving his hand across, a small barrier of water defending him from the attack. The water turns into steam, and the male looks up. He darts his eyes between the two of them, raising one brow.

"I suppose I should be relieved that you two are on good terms," the fae says.

Yujin looks at him in confusion. What's that supposed to mean?

Jinyoung seems to notice her questioning eyes. He meets them directly, a mischievous glint in his blue orbs.

"If you must know, Jaebeom was terribly whiny during the courting period. He went all, ‘I talked to Yujin today! Yujin fell asleep in the library, so I shifted her to the loveseat. We chatted but do you think she felt uncomfortable that I carried her to the loveseat?’” he mimics. “You have no idea how my ears bleed!"

Yujin casts a glance at the targeted male, and sees Jaebeom all red, from his cheeks, up to the tip of his ears. He seems too embarrassed to meet her eyes, though he sends a deadly glare at his brother. Yujin can't help but laugh.

"I didn't know you were that cute!" Yujin coos. "You always seemed so cool-headed, I didn't think you'd have such a cute side to you!"

Jaebeom looks up at her in wonder. "You think I'm c-cute?"

Yujin can't help herself from pinching his cheek. "Very cute."

She hears a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the room. "Here they go again..." comes a mutter. "You know what? I think I'll just eat in my room. Thanks for ruining my peaceful morning."

With that, Jinyoung stands up, plate and glass in his hands, before walking off. Yujin and Jaebeom burst into laughter.

---

It’s a given that Yujin spends most of her time in the mansion library, enjoying the quiet silence while being engrossed in the books. But on days that Jaebeom has more time on his hands, he would pop by and accompany her. Secretly, she loves that he prefers to spend the time with her. She loves being pampered by the male, loves receiving his attention.

Yujin has taken her spot at the loveseat near the fireplace, peacefully reading her novel. She's nose-deep into the book that she didn't notice the presence of the Fire fae. Not until, he invades her personal space, snuggling his head onto her lap, much to her pleasant surprise.

"I just need a nap," he says, words slurring. He’s making himself comfortable, legs stretched out, feet dangling over the arm of the seat, hands clasped over his stomach.

"You could have gone to your room. The bed--"

"But I want to be close to you," he cuts, eyes slowly blinking.

Before Yujin can even say anything else, the male has closed his eyes. Immobilized but pleased to have the male around, Yujin lets her lips curl upwards. She shifts her book into one hand, the other carding through Jaebeom’s long hair in a constant motion. Soon enough, she notices his breathing has evened out, his expression peaceful. Not wanting to disturb him, Yujin tries not to move at all, keeping herself as still as possible.

Before she knows it, the sun has reached the horizon, the day getting dark. Yet Jaebeom is still fast asleep on her lap. Her legs have gone numb from staying in one position for so long. 

"Jaebeom," she calls out softly, but there is no response.

The sunlight that filters through the glass windows cast a golden shadow onto his skin. He dazzles in the sun. He looks so peaceful. His eyes still tightly shut, Yujin uses it as an opportunity to roam his face. His hair is now tousled against her lap, some strands all over his face. She can't help but brush them away, making it easier to see him. She notices a pair of moles above his left eye. His fringe is long, reaching below his brows so it has hidden away those beauty marks from her. His nose is round, his jaw chiseled like a marble sculpture. Yujin wonders if all faes are this beautiful?

As often as they have cuddled, there is something uniquely intimate about this very moment. It's like Jaebeom's beauty is only for Yujin to see. Being in his most vulnerable state, it’s as if he trusts her entirely not to commit any peculiar acts. As if he's giving himself entirely to her.

Yujin brushes her fingers against his cheek and it's soft under her touch. His skin is inhumanely smooth and flawless. Her eyes cast to his lips: pinkish, thin yet plush. She briefly wonders--

Jaebeom spurs awake, eyes slowly fluttering open. He looks up at her, seemingly dazed from sleep. He glances at her hand then back to her face. Flustered, Yujin retracts her hand.

"Good, you're awake. My legs are cramped," she sputters.

But Jaebeom doesn’t move away. Instead, he turns on his side, nuzzling his face against her stomach.

“Just a while more…” he mumbles into her clothes, barely audible.

“Jaebeom, please, my legs--”

He abruptly sits up, and wordlessly maneuvers her.

“Wha--”

Yujin finds herself being laid down, much like Jaebeom did. But this time, they are both turned on their sides, facing each other. There isn’t much space to put two grown adults together like this, but they managed. Jaebeom throws an arm around her waist and slots their legs together.

“Let’s stay like this a while longer,” he mutters, eyes closing again.

Yujin doesn’t argue, only snuggles closer to the male, shutting her eyes too.

---

The downside of having a free Jaebeom is that he doesn't leave Yujin alone, sticking by the female all day long. He follows her around like a puppy. At first, the female found it cute, but there are times in which Yujin just wants to enjoy her book in solace. How is she to move around freely when he keeps tailing her?

"That's it, I've had enough!" Yujin huffs, annoyed. She chases the male out. "Get out! Leave!"

Jaebeom has the audacity to look hurt, like a kicked puppy. His shoulder slump as he is being dismissed. Yujin reckons if he was truly a puppy, she can see his tail between his legs as he walks away. 

Yujin watches as the fae descends the stairs. Then, she sees it happen: how he misses a step and falls forward. Out of reflex, Yujin lunges and grabs him by the arm, pulling him back with great force that he topples backward. In his effort to stabilize himself, his hand grapples for something, which happens to be Yujin’s arm. He ends up pulling Yujin along. She yelps in surprise, and hits her head with something rather firm but not concrete.

Yujin groans, pushing herself up and that’s when her breath hitches. She fell right on top of the male, chest to chest, faces inches apart. Yujin has her palms pressed against his chest, and judging from her position, her head must have collided with Jaebeom’s chest. The male’s red eyes stare up at her face, pupils dilated because of their sudden close proximity.

Flustered, Yujin tries to scatter away, but Jaebeom wraps his arms around her waist, holding her still. 

“What are you doing?” she flounders, trying to break apart.

“How romantic. You fell on me,” the male comments, raising his head up, his mouth at her ear, “Or should I say, you fell for me?”

His voice has gone low, and something about it makes her feel weak. Something about it makes her stomach pool with heat. Like tension in springs, she feels wound up. She is sure that she might blow up one day.

Yujin pushes at his chest rather weakly. "Ha ha, very funny..."

There’s a smug look on his face. He brushes a loose hair strand from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He then tips her chin, forcing the female to look at him only.

“I love you,” he exhales so softly, that Yujin barely catches it. Hearing those words for the first time, it takes her breath away. Her heart pounds in her ears.

His eyes have gone to her lips. Yujin feels his thumb grazing against her bottom lip. He darts his eyes back up, meeting hers. “You don’t have to return my feelings yet, but I will make you fall for me. Even if it takes years, I’ll keep trying. The challenge will make it more worth it, I’m sure.”

Yujin can’t find the voice or the words to respond to him at all. The male is the first to pull away, slipping his arms from her body, laying it flat on the floor. Yujin rises, brushing her clothes from the invisible dust, just to keep herself busy.

Jaebeom stands on his feet afterwards. He takes her hand, lowering his body to plant a kiss onto the back of her palm.

“See you later, my love,” he utters, before descending the stairs.

Yujin watches his retreating back, her heart still beating hard in her chest. She holds the hand that Jaebeom has kissed close to her body, cradling it as if it’s something precious, something fragile.

---

"I'm surprised you're not expecting yet," Jinyoung says out of the blue that Yujin drops a book, the thud so loud that it echoes across the entire library. Jaebeom is long gone, probably having to deal with his revolutionary matters. The Water fae looks at her suspiciously. "Or are you--"

"No!" she hastily answers, blushing at the implication.

Jinyoung shrugs his shoulders. "I mean, if you want to keep it a secret, I guess that's fine with me--"

“W-we haven’t even...” the female mumbles weakly.

“Oh,” the Water fae lets out. “My bad. I thought with all that frolicking, you both would have done it--”

Yujin covers her ears, embarrassed. Jinyoung laughs. He leans against a bookshelf, silently observing the female.

“You make him so happy,” he says a while later. “I’ve never seen him this… sweet. It’s sickening, even. But if he’s happy, well… What can I say?”

Yujin is unsure on what to say. She was never there to experience how the old Jaebeom was, how his world has changed ever since her arrival. But if Jinyoung has spoken about his change, then she’s certain that there is truth to it. That Jaebeom has become more gentle, he has been happier with her around.

“He makes me happy too,” she begins slowly. “Initially, I hated him. I didn’t like the idea of being married to someone I didn’t know… But now that I’ve gotten closer to Jaebeom, I don’t regret it. I’m thankful to be married to him. I wouldn’t want any other.”

Jinyoung offers a smile. “I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to hear that.”

“I do want to make him happy,” she confesses. “There were a lot of times when I hurt him so much. I have to make it up to him. And make up for the lost time.”

“You have come to love him, haven’t you?”

“I-- L-love? No way!”

The Water fae crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Oh, you’re not? But you seem rather sure that you want to stay with him till the end of time. You said it yourself, you don’t want any other. Is that not love?”

Yujin keeps mum, staring at the many books before her. Has she truly fallen in love with Jaebeom? She definitely enjoys his company, revels in the way he showers her with affection and attention. At the same time, she likes his hugs, his kisses, his touch. It never fails to bring her warmth. And there were a few times when she initiated a kiss, or any romantic gesture. Has she been in love with Jaebeom all the while, without her realizing it at all?

Jinyoung quirks a smile. “Found your answer?”

Yujin looks at the male with imploring eyes. “What do I do now?”

The male grins. “I’ll help you.”

---

Yujin spends the rest of the day cooped up in her room, refusing to step out at all. She blames Jinyoung for the ideas that he has been feeding her mind from their conversation. She hadn’t expected Jinyoung to go through with her everything about procreating with a fae. This includes learning the anatomy of a male fae, which isn’t different from any human being. After all, they pretty much look similar, able to effortlessly and flawlessly blend in with human civilization. Still, Jinyoung goes into the details about the entire process. It has Yujin’s cheeks burning, and she had desperately hoped that the impromptu lesson would end as soon as possible.

Now, she has to deal with the afterthoughts of it alone. The visual imagery used during the lesson isn’t helping at all because right now, her mind can’t help but imagine Jaebeom… Yujin pulls at her hair, trying to force such sinful thoughts out of her mind. What would Jaebeom think of her like this? Definitely unflattering, her mind supplies.

The door creaks open and Yujin has to cover her body with her blanket. She’s thoroughly clothed, but for some reason, she feels very much exposed. Naked even.

Jaebeom strolls in, a sweet smile on his lips as he greets her. It comes almost naturally that he slips himself under the covers, greeting Yujin with a kiss, be it on her forehead, cheek, or hand. He rarely aims for her lips anymore. She wonders if it is out of respect. After all, she hasn’t told him of her feelings.

“Jinyoung has told me very interesting things,” he begins, words drawing out.

Yujin pretends she doesn’t know, putting on an innocent, clueless face. “What things?”

“That you were reading books on fae anatomy,” he says, a hand curling around her hip.

“Well, I was just curious on how different fae anatomy is to human anatomy--”

“Hmm, and what about procreation? Why were you reading that?”

Yujin flushes, covering her face with her hands. “I-- I didn’t-- Jinyoung was the one who decided to talk about in detail, and then he forced me to listen to his explanations and then handed me a stack of books to read on--” she rambles on, voice muffled.

Jaebeom throws his head back, a boisterous laugh filling the room. “I know. I hope you didn’t find my brother pushy.”

“He was…” Yujin mumbles to herself.

Jaebeom scoots closer, his arms caging her in a hug. He hooks his chin on her shoulder, head leaning against hers.

“You don’t have to force yourself,” he utters softly. “I told you. I’ll wait for however long it takes for you to love me back. We have a lot of time.”

Yujin shakes her head. “You have a lot of time, I don’t. You’re immortal, I’m not.”

“Technically, I am, but I can still die.”

Yujin scrunches her nose in jest. "Yeah, if someone uses a silver weapon and stabs you in the heart."

Jaebeom stays silent. Yujin feels the mood suddenly sink. That was a stupid thing to say, Yujin berates herself. How could she joke about it when it involves his life? She had wanted to make it up to him, to make up for the lost time, and yet she cracked a bad joke to him. Jaebeom, who has done nothing but take good care of her. Jaebeom, who has always looked at her fondly, who has treated her as an equal. She doesn’t deserve him. He should be with someone better than her, someone who wouldn’t hurt him at all. Yujin doubts she can ever do that. Will Jaebeom still be willing to love a broken glass like her, when he suffers cuts just by holding her?

"I have long forgiven you about that night," he confesses. “I’m not holding it against you.”

“I know,” Yujin mutters. “I want you to know that I won’t try to kill you anymore.”

Jaebeom offers a smile.

“It’s true, I won’t do it anymore,” Yujin feels the need to convince him further. "Because I-- I’ve come to like you too much that I can’t imagine my life without you, much less try to kill you--"

There's a pin drop silence before it takes her a moment to realize what she just said. Her eyes dart to Jaebeom slowly, cautiously, hoping that he didn't hear it at all. But who can she fool? Jaebeom managed to catch her sudden confession, already looking at her with wide eyes.

"I--" she opens her mouth.

"If you were gonna tell me to forget it, I definitely can't," he hastily interjects. "There is no way I can ever pretend I didn't hear that."

"Jaebeom, I--" What is she going to say? Is there any point in taking her words back? She has come to terms with her own heart, and if she truly wants to make up for the lost time, she shouldn’t be wasting any. She takes a deep breath.

“I’m in love with you, Jaebeom. Your company, your presence, your voice, your face, I like them all," she confesses. Then, she reaches for his face, holding it with her hands. "I promise you: I will never turn my back on you. My heart and my life, I offer them to you."

"Yujin..." he mutters, almost like a whisper. Like a stolen breath.

Yujin leans in, and Jaebeom meets her halfway. His lips are soft against hers. He kisses so sweetly that Yujin finds herself chasing his lips when he pulls apart.

"We should stop..." he mutters.

But Yujin presses their lips together again. This time, she throws her arms around Jaebeom's neck, her weight pushing them closer. Jaebeom makes a little noise as the momentum throws him backward, down onto the bed. Yujin doesn't care, continues kissing him fervently as if he's the oxygen to her lungs. As if she's in dire need of him.

Jaebeom lies completely flat on his back, as Yujin throws her legs over his hip, effectively straddling him. Any gap between them is gone, their bodies pressed together as one. Her hands roam under his shirt as they kiss, until Jaebeom curls his fingers around her wrists delicately.

"You don't have to do this," his lips hovering over hers. The male lays still, body not crumbling under her weight.

She tugs his hand away, shaking her head. "I want this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she exhales, firm. She leans down, cupping the side of his face gently. "Please."

The man tilts his chin up and she closes the gap again. Warmth blooms through her body in a way she has never felt before. The rustling of fabric, the cold air that hits her snaps her to reality. This is real, she realizes. The lights have gone out, only the moonlight seeping into the room. In the darkness, she can make out Jaebeom's form, the light reflecting in Jaebeom's eyes. Yujin shudders at the sight of his dilated pupils. Yet, ever so gently, Jaebeom takes care of her. Each kiss he leaves on her skin burns deep. Each hitch of breath sets the waves in motion. It's like the high tides on a full moon, the rolling of the waves against the shore. Each time they meet, they sink deeper into the ocean, into a world of only the two of them. With a final crash, the shore is doused, the waves subside.

Pure bliss.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Two

Words: 4k

Warning(s): explicit language, explicit sexual situations, drug abuse, violence

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My nails dig through Duff's back, my legs tightly around his hips, his hands in my hair as his lips kiss hotly at my neck, making me shudder.

He lets out a sharp breath, signaling he's about to finish, and I nudge him off of me, pushing him to the bed, my hand finding his cock before my lips follow suite, my mouth sucking and licking at him as my hand keeps a tight but loose enough grip on him, jerking him off. 

"Fuck, Vivian," he chuckles with a moan thickly wrapping around it, his hand in my hair. 

When I hum around him he's done for, spilling down my throat. 

Once he's done I get off of him and kiss up his stomach, his chest, his neck, finding his lips, his hand gently around my throat for a moment and I sigh when we pull away before falling back to catch my breath. 

Usually he's all for laying here with me, but he sits up after a moment and swings his legs to the side of the bed. 

"Nooo," I grumble, crawling to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, my bare chest against his back before I lean down to press a kiss to the back of his neck. "Stay in bed." 

"I would if I could." He tells me, his fingers running up and down my arm. "I got rehearsal, Viv." 

"You can blow off one rehearsal." I suggest, my nails grazing over his collar bone. 

"I did on the tour, remember?" He chuckles, patting my hand, about to stand up. 

"Okay, well, settle for being just a little late." I say next, not letting him leave my arms, my nose grazing his cheek. 

"Viv, c'mon, I can't do that. The guys need me." 

"Don't act like if any of them had me in bed they wouldn't blow the rest of you off." I tell him sarcastically. 

"They wouldn't because it'd be a miracle if any of them got you in bed--especially Axl." 

"Duff, please?" I try my hardest and he won't budge. 

"I'll be back later, alright?" I finally let go and he turns his back to me to put his pants on and I roll my jaw and lean back, sliding my hand between my legs, waiting for him to turn around. 

When he does, his eyes slightly widen, the obvious internal struggle taking place, I just look him directly in the eyes, bring fingers to my mouth to taste myself, before sliding them back down to pleasure myself under his attention.

"Just a little late." He says to himself, jumping on me, making me laugh and lose focus as he kisses at my chest, my arms and legs wrapping around him tightly, not wanting to let him go. 

We hadn't talked about the heroin, I didn't know how to ask and I didn't even know if he knew I knew about it. I was used to brushing it under the rug with Nikki, I didn't know how to approach Duff about it. But I learned pretty damn quick when it happened a second time.

I scrub at another stain in the carpet as Matt and Duff argue outside, faintly hearing them. 

"You're full of shit, Duff, yo--"

"--You're not here with me all the time, Matt, so don't just assume I'm flying off the fucking handle!"

"If it's bad enough that she called me to come talk to you, you've crossed a line!" His brother points out. 

"I didn't cross a fucking line, it happened twice and that was it and that's all it's gonna be!" Duff exclaims. "I fucked up, and I get that, but you don't have any idea what the fuck is going on so don't come down here and jump down my throat when you don't know the full story, man."

"When I get a call that my baby brother is dabbling in heroin I have every right to come down here and jump down his throat. You have friends that are being ran around by that shit. You have friends that have died of that shit. But you're still just trying it?" He hisses and there's a silence. "Your my brother and I love you, Duff...if I didn't I wouldn't be pissing on your parade right now, but I need you to think about some of this stuff before you do it. Think about the possible consequences and repercussions because none of them are worth you losing yourself, or your life, over a high." 

I leave them at that, sensing Matthew's almost done and since I don't want to see Duff right now, I got to the bathroom. 

"Vivian? Can we please talk?" Duff asks from the other side of the bathroom door in a few minutes and I sniffle, hugging my legs tighter to me. 

"I don't have anything to say to you. Your brother said it all." I tell him and he sighs. 

"Viv, I'm a fucking idiot, alright? I didn't mean anything by it, I just wanted to try it and honestly it's fucking morbid so I'm not doing it again." He assures me. 

"I've heard that before and eight months later I found out he'd gone from smoking it to injecting it, Duff." I remind him and he's quiet for a moment. "Your brother was right, Duff...how the hell do you try the thing that's killed so many of your friends back home and ruined the lives of the ones it hasn't killed yet?" 

More silence. 

"I don't need another junkie to raise in a relationship, Duff, so if that's what you wanna get into this isn't gonna work--"

He struggles with the door, and I relent, standing up and opening it. 

"I'm not Nikki. Quit comparing me to him because I'm not him." He tells me. "And I am sorry I came home like that and brought back all the shit from Nikki and freaked you out. I'm not gonna do it anymore, Vivian, I promise I'm not. I don't like the way it makes me feel, I don't like how hard it is to come out of it and I don't like you looking at me like I'm the next one that's gonna break you because I'm not." He tells me. "I love you, I honestly do, and I'm not gonna do it again, just please forgive me for being a fucking asshole." He pleads.

I can tell he's being sincere.

"Okay." I tell him, tears in my eyes. "Just please don't do that to me again, Duff, please." He grabs me and wraps his arms around me, squeezing me to him. 

"Viv, I promise I'm not." He says soothingly.

He stayed true to his promise, and he wouldn't break me over Heroin, but his alcoholism and coke addiction only a few short years later would nearly take a bigger toll on me than Nikki's drug addiction.

The next morning a satisfied hum slips from my throat, Duff's lips softly pressing over my shoulder blades, his bare chest that's still soaked with sweat presses to my back as his teeth nip at my neck. 

I giggle and roll over to face him, a wide smile on his lips when he leans down and kisses me, our tongues tangling sloppily, my palm running up his bicep before pulling him to me, running my calf muscles against his lower back. 

"That was really good." I tell him softly, biting at my lip and he kisses me again for a second. 

"It's always good for me." He chuckles. 

"Why's that?" I ask, knowingly, and he doesn't say a word, just smirking at me as his hand runs down my stomach, getting between my legs and I bite back a moan as he slips two fingers into me, watching me.

He curls them into my already sensitive core, and I melt, closing my eyes and arching my back, feeling his tongue run up my neck, making me shudder before he's lapping my nipple into his mouth, sending a shot of arousal through me. 

I reach down between us and grasp his cock, already eager for round two, and his eyes flutter a little bit. 

I giggle and he takes his fingers from me, taking them between his lips for a moment as I guide him to me, rubbing his head against my wet clit, my body tensing and relaxing in anticipation.

Before he pushes into me, I push him off of me, straddling him and his hands guide my hips as I ready him at my cunt and slide down onto him. 

"Fuck me." I breathily sigh out, my head tipped back, my pussy throbbing around him as I'm filled. 

He lets me control the rhythm, his hands running over my hips, my ass, up to my tits to run over my nipples. 

I whine out, sliding down his shaft, making the whole thing fit into me, scratching at his chest as I quicken the pace that I'm riding him at. 

The abrupt ringing of the phone catches my attention, and the both of us are having problems focusing with the sharp "bbbbrrrrriiiiinnnnnngggggg" every 2 seconds.

"I'm sorry, just gimme a second." I sigh.

"Babe, it's okay." He assures me as I'm reaching for my nightstand that I moved the phone to. 

"Hello?" I answer. 

"I wanna come home." Nikki sounds stoned as shit, thickly slurring. 

"Nikki," I start, Duff letting out a heavy breath. "There's nothing here for you right now. Finish in Japan and you'll be back soon." I try to keep myself from yelling at him, because there's no telling how much he's high on, exactly. 

"Vivian, I wanna come home. I'm fucking tired." 

"Nikki, I know you are, but just…" 

The mood is ruined, Duff getting out from under me, kissing my temple before going to the shower, making me sigh. 

"I'm getting on a plane and coming home." He goes on and I rub my forehead. 

"Nikki…"

"What, Vivian?" He snaps. 

"I don't want you to come home." I tell him, honestly. 

"This is bullshit, Vivian, you know it's bullsh--and you know you want me to come home, too, you just don't want to admit it but I know you and I know you--"

"--No, Nikki, I don't, which is why I'm telling you to stay in Japan." 

"Vivian." He says weakly. 

"Nikki, I told you when you got home there'd be divorce papers waiting for you, and my shit would be gone. I meant what I said. Don't call me and act hurt when I tell you not to come home right now." 

The line goes dead and I close my eyes, very quickly swiping the two tears rolling down my cheeks before hanging up, too. 

It went on like that the next few days, Nikki randomly calling me to tell me he's coming home early...he never came, though…

"What the hell is she thinking?" I ask the guys when I look up to see Tansy and Axl out and about the way we all are…

Slash follows my line of sight, knowing smirk on his lips curtained by his curly hair.. 

"I told you it's like she was never even with Sparkles or whatever the fuck his name is." He mumbles, watching the blonde and redhead slow dancing in the crowd of chaos, wide smiles, foreheads pressed together for a moment before Axl says something to make her laugh and her head leans back as a genuine laugh flutters out of her against the music and noise surrounding the place. "It's fucking weird." 

"You're tellin' me, the only proof they were ever even together is that she's so strung out she's assbackwards, now." Izzy adds flatly.

"At least she's happy now, guys." Steven tells us. 

"She's high, Stevie. Of course she's happy." I state and Izzy tenses beside me. 

"Oh, c'mon, Viv, don't be so--"

"--So what, Izzy?" I snap. "--They're engaged and they don't even know each other."

None of them argue. 

"He should've waited until she was sober. She can't handle a relationship right now."

"Well, Axl's not gonna be like Sparkie was. He's insane but not that badly." Izzy assures me. "And she's obviously not even bothered by being with someone new so just let 'em have fun." He adds. 

"I give it a week before Axl realizes it's not worth the effort and patience required to have a decently functioning relationship with a heroin addict." I cut next, glaring at Duff and Izzy, and the brunette slams his glass down on the table, clenching and unclenching his jaw. "If the shoe fits, wear it." I hiss

"What the hell is your deal?" He asks me. 

"I don't have a 'deal'." I state.

"Bullshit." 

"Izzy, man, just let it go." Duff says, obviously not trying to start anything about it. 

"No, fuck that, she's been a pain in the ass all day and I want to know what I did to piss her off to the point that she treats me the way she has all day." He tells Duff. 

"I'm stepping outside." I ignore him, getting up from the table.

"Izz, just--"

"--Nope." I hear him spout before he follows after me. 

Getting to the street, damp with rain, and catching my breath, Izzy comes out within seconds, shaped brows raised. 

"The fuck's goin' on?" He demands. 

"Duff was high again last night." I tell him and he sighs, rubbing his forehead. 

"You think it's me or something? Like I'm the one that's holding a gun to his head and making him shoot up?" He defensively accuses me and I exhale sharply. 

"It's somebody." I cross my arms and Izzy shakes his head a little bit before calmly adding, "he was with Tansy, Viv, not me, so go gripe to her and keep me out of it."

I had to keep in mind that Tansy was barely a hundred pounds and nearly a foot shorter than me, and it wouldn't do any good for me to kick her ass, despite desperately wanting to get ahold of her one good time...so, I got the next best thing, who would pass the message on.

I'm practically nose to nose with Axl in the tiny, cramped, bathroom.

I waited for him to go to the bathroom and I followed him, not wanting to ruin his good time with Tansy, so this will have to do. 

"Your girlfriend is helping my boyfriend dabble in smack and I'm not putting up with it." I grit out. 

"She's my fiancée, technically." He smugly replies, smirking, getting his dick out to pee and I look up. 

"You're being a dumbass for that, by the way." I snap. 

"I'm in love, Viv." He laughs it off. 

"Well, better talk to your fiancée about sobriety because if Duff comes home high again and I find out he was with her again, I'm going to beat her ass." I promise and he rolls his eyes.

"You know you can't tell an addict to get better if they don't want to." He scoffs. 

"Maybe just don't marry her and see how quickly that gets her to go to rehab." I suggest and he shakes off and flushes the urinal, sighing, raising his brows. 

"You can pretend you're all cool about it but you know she'll be dead within a month if she keeps it up. Her heart's already shit, her vision is starting to get fuck and a part of her liver needs to be cut out--she just won't get it done."

"The fuck's wrong with her liver?" He asks me sharply. 

"She didn't tell you?" I question and he lets out a heavy breath, rolling his jaw. "Well, have fun prying that Skelton out of the closet." I turn to go and he grabs the door knob, stopping me, his intense blue eyes scalding my green…

"You don't have any room to talk to me about skeletons in her closet when you have a clusterfuck in yours." He grits out. 

"Wow, I'm sleeping with Duff, that's so awful." I snap sarcastically. 

"And how do you explain all those pregnancy tests and no kids?" He snaps back and my heart stops momentarily, my face falling. 

"Duff and I were looking for a lighter the other night because we didn't have one on us like we thought. He didn't see it because I got him away from it and I'm not telling anybody about it, but don't for a second think you're any better than Tansy. You're both just full of shit." He leaves me, making sure to slam the door on his way out. 

I stand there for a moment, trying to calm down…

"Fuck it." I shove my urge to cry away harshly, letting my temper get the best of me, going after him. 

I'm grabbing a bottle of bourbon from a man I pass, and as he fusses and follows after me for it back, my eyes make a target on the back of Axl's Aerosmith tshirt.

He comes to a halt as the bottle barely misses him, hitting his shoulder before colliding with the floor and busting. 

Several people part around us, not wanting to get caught in the collateral. 

"Guys, c'mon," Steven comes in, Tansy, Izzy, Duff and Slash not far behind. 

Axl just glares at me, using every fiber of his being not to fight back, and I can tell, as Izzy gives me a "don't start" look, starting to coax Axl away as Duff gets in the middle of it to gently trying to make me walk with him in the opposite direction. 

But the Sixx in me kicks in. 

"Tell your bitch to fuck it off or I'll make her myself!" I throw at Axl and, sure enough, this grabs his attention. 

We're both fighting to get Duff away because he's between us. 

We manage to get him knocked to the side just enough that we could get a few licks in before Izzy and Steven get in the middle of it, too. 

"Vivian Sixx's Bar Brawl with Singer" was plastered everywhere the next day, but I didn't care. For him to insinuate I had aborted my kids, which I wouldn't have--even if I did it would've been my business...me and Tansy were hiding things, yes, but mine were hid to protect people. Her's were hid so she could keep getting high without people screaming in her ear about her health...at least I thought so, at the time.

"I'm tired of you fighting, Vivian!" Duff lets out as I slam the door to my corvette once we get back to my house. 

"Okay, are you done?" I dismissively snap at him, stomping to the door, fumbling for my keys and he grabs my arm and makes me turn around to look at him. 

"No, I'm not done." He says sternly, making me sigh in frustration. "What happened?"

"Nothing, Duff." I lie, turning around again and unlocking the door. 

"Don't give me that bullshit, Viv--did he hurt you or say something to you?" 

"It doesn't matter, Duff, alright just drop it." 

"It matters. If he said something or did something to you, I need to know." He argues, following me to my room. 

I don't answer. 

"D-Did he touch you or…" he sounds pained at the question, and I breathe out and shake my head. 

"No, Duff. Axl's never done anything like that to me." I mumble, truthfully, taking my dress off to change. 

"Well, then what the hell happened, Viv?" He asks me, sitting on the bed, elbows on his knees as he awaits my answer. 

"He doesn't know Tansy needs surgery for her liver." I tell him. 

He looks confused. 

"If she won't even tell him about needing a possibly life-saving surgery due to her current drug and alcohol addiction, what the hell makes him think she's stable enough to be his wife?" 

"So that's why you were so upset?" He asks, not sounding completely convinced. "Because he won't back off Tansy?" 

"...I was also pissed you were coincidentally hanging out with her when you came home high." I say quietly, and I can see him tense up. 

"Tansy didn't get me high, Viv. I got me high. It was my choice. She was passed out a majority of the time." 

"Well, then, who else were you with?"

"Andy McCoy." He sighs out and I let out a disappointed breath. 

"Oh." I walk to the bed and sit beside him. 

"Yeah. 'Oh.'" He echoes flatly. 

"I'm sorry for the Axl thing."

"I'm sorry for the smack thing." He says. 

My eyes drift past him to the drawer that has all my dirty little secrets in it...my eyes watering. 

"Hey," Duff starts calmly, grabbing at my hand, and I turn my attention to him, "I love you." 

"I love you, too." I assure him, sniffling. "And I'm really sorry for tonight. I just lost my temper and I have no idea what came over me." I confess, starting to cry and he pulls me to him, comfortingly running his hand up and down my arm. "I'm just so tired, Duff." 

"I know, Viv." He quietly says, kissing my hair, holding me tighter. 

"Can we just go to sleep tonight?" I ask, not in the mood for sex or anything remotely sex related. 

"If that's what you wanna do, yeah." He nods a little and I look up at him. 

"I just want to sleep." I repeat and he gives me a soft smile. 

"Okay, we can sleep." He assures me, giving me a quick and chaste peck to my lips, continuing to run his other hand calmly up and down my arm.

I hadn't heard anything from Nikki that day, and I was hoping it'd stay like that until I had to see him in a few days when he got back, but before the night was through…

The phone rings, and I groan, my hand fumbling for it in the dark. 

I get it before Duff can wake up, yawning as I answer, "hello?" 

"Baby, I'm coming home." Nikki insists.

I furrow my brows and look at the clock. 

3:48a.m. 

"Nikki, it's nearly four in the morning here, what the hell?" I ask him quietly. 

"Vivian, just listen, alright, I fucking talked to Doc and he said…" he stops for a second, and I furrow my brows. "...he…" he sounds like he's falling asleep, or struggling against passing out under the influence. 

"Okay, Nikki, Doc's not letting you come home, early." I politely point out to him. 

"Well, he could." 

"He won't." I tell him. 

"Fuck him, I'm coming home."

"Why do you want to come home so damn bad, Nikki? Huh?" 

"Because I miss you." I have to keep myself from laughing and waking Duff up. 

"You're full of shit." I snap harshly. "And I'm going to bed, now--"

"--Vivian, please." He sounds like he's about to cry. "Please, listen to me, plea--"

"--Listen to you? Are you fucking me right now? I spent years listening to you but all you had to say was just a crock of shit, Nikki."

"Viv--"

"--No, you listen to me, Nikki, go burn. Go to hell." 

"Vivian--"

"--You had a mistress. For over a year. You chose junk over our marriage. You've made your fucking bed and have everything you've put me through in it, now lay down." I hiss. 

"Vivian--" his voice sounds like it's cracking. 

"--No, Nikki, by--"

"--I love you, Vivian." 

I put my hand over my mouth, squeezing my eyes closed, feeling tears hit the covers. 

"I love you." He repeats, so obviously out of it. 

"Nikki, you need to get help." I tell him. 

"I need to come home, and we'll fix stuff." 

I glance over at Duff, sleeping and breathe out. 

"There's nothing left to fix, Nikki." 

"Don't say that." He says and I rub my lips together…

"Nikki, get some rest and you'll be home soon and we'll talk about it then." I lie.