#i apparently needed to break that poor man to pieces

[sesshy380]

I must love putting TKB into angsty situations a bit too much, because I had one of those vivid dreams that even though I don't remember all of the details, I remember a lot of the important basics and it won't leave me.

It would make a great heartshipping story too (you read that right).

[pixlokita]

Painful wing fanart incoming but you already knew about it and colored it so like -w- hiding it for the gore and blood tho >>

I feel like it was less gory in black and white but honestly 👀✨ aight don’t mind me I’m going to the tag now

BEHOLD!!! AN ART TRADE!!! @pixlokita it is time!

Caution, do not click read more if you do not intend to read. This is 12,192 words. And no, I'm not kidding. This is so much longer than most of the stuff I write. That being said, enjoy!!!

Evan said Michael was sick, which worried Jeremy. Being sick should not mean Michael would try so hard to avoid Jeremy, especially since he knew it would make Jeremy worry about him more.

But the main part Jeremy was worried about was the way Evan’s new wings kept fluffing up. Was Michael mad at him?

Don’t worry about it, Jeremy, he told himself. If Michael’s mad, he’ll tell you eventually.

It just stung. Evan and Gregory were wandering around the house, trying to see if their wings would allow them to do various things. Evan’s were too small to do much, and Gregory still hadn’t gotten used to them yet, but at least they had something to do while Mr. Emily tried to figure out what could possibly cause this.

“Ugh!” Gregory exclaimed, plopping down on the sofa next to Jeremy. He took the soda from Jeremy’s hand and took a giant sip. “These things suck.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy asked, unsuccessfully trying to retrieve his Coke.

“I mean,” Gregory scowled, taking another sip, “that wings are stupid. They don’t even bend the way I want them to.”

“Well…” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “They are just extra limbs, right? With bones and joints and stuff?”

“I guess so.” Gregory finally gave Jeremy his soda back. “But they don’t move how I want-“

“You couldn’t do much when you were a baby right? Learning to crawl?” Jeremy chugged the rest of his Coke before putting the empty can down. “It’s an accomplishment when babies get their heads off the floor on their own, you know. And rolling and stuff.”

“Oh.” Gregory clearly hadn’t thought about it that way. “But Evan’s got excellent control already.”

“He’s had them longer.” Jeremy shrugged. “Maybe he’s just a quick learner. Or maybe, there’s less wing to work with. Could be a bunch of things.”

“But…” Gregory sighed. He inched closer to Jeremy on the couch, his wings refusing to bend in a natural way.

Jeremy awkwardly looped a comforting arm around Gregory. “You’ll get there eventually.”

“They just hurt. All the time.”

“I can’t help with that,” Jeremy chuckled.

“Sure you can! Mike did this thing once, where he…” Gregory chewed his lip. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what he did.”

“You want me to pet you?” Jeremy said in disbelief. “Nuh uh. Go ask Evan. That’s not… No.”

“Why’d you make it weird?” Gregory shook his head. “It was like…”

“Like a shoulder massage,” Evan interjected helpfully. His wings flexed, expanding fully as he explained. They barely went past his shoulders, but the point got across.

Jeremy admired the confidence with which he showed them. He’d personally be too worried about people calling him a freak. Which, thinking about it, was not likely to happen in this house. Everyone was too nice here.

“Mikey went like this,” Evan said, pulling Jeremy’s arm back to get to Gregory’s wings.

Gently, Evan messaged the inner edge of Gregory’s wings, right where they extended from his back. Gregory’s wings convulsed, the claw on one nearly hitting Jeremy in the face. “I think they get itchy,” Evan mused. “We might have to just do this more often.”

“No kidding,” Gregory said with a sigh, his eyes closing and his shoulders relaxing. “But Mike’s still better at it.”

“Wonder where he got his practice,” Jeremy replied. He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it still came across that way.

Evan winched, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he kept focused on his task. Gregory sighed absently. “Wings are a lot of work.”

“Seems that way,” Jeremy replied.

Gregory folded and unfolded his hands while Evan worked. “I just…”

Jeremy spared him a glance as he went to get another can of Coke. “Something on your mind?”

“His girlfriend,” Evan said absently.

“Cassie’s not my girlfriend!” Gregory said, straightening. His wings fluffed up as he said it.

“Oh.” Jeremy had no idea what to make of that. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know!” Gregory replied. He ran a hand through his hair to try to make it lay flat. “She was at Evan’s party, and she looked really bad. I think Mike took care of it, but he didn’t really say anything about it afterwards.”

“She’s probably at the hospital, Gregory,” Evan replied, trying to be soothing. “We can visit her once we figure out what to do about this first.”

“Stupid wings,” Gregory grumbled. “Making everything harder.”

Jeremy didn’t know how to reply to that. He cracked the can open and took a sip. “Have you asked Mike?”

“He’s sick,” Evan answered for Gregory. His wings fluffed up again.

“Maybe we should check on him then. He’s been resting all week right?” Jeremy asked, trying to be casual about it. Evan had been very guarded about his older brother this whole time.

Jeremy came over every day, and every day, Evan said the same thing. “Mike’s sick. He can’t see anyone right now.”

It had been happening since the day Gregory’s wings had burst through his skin. Jeremy was more than a little concerned. Sure, he hadn’t reacted well to the wings at first, but none of them had. He’d been more supportive when Evan’s had burst through later that same day.

But Michael’s expression became very guarded for the rest of the day, and the next day, he was “sick” and couldn’t see Jeremy. And Evan was very good at shooing Jeremy away when he tried too hard to see him.

“Shouldn’t he eat something?” Jeremy asked.

Evan frowned. “Mikey told me that there’s not much he can stomach right now.”

“Crackers always work,” Jeremy mumbled to himself. Shaking his head, he tried again. “What about water? Maybe he’ll start feeling better with some fluids.”

“I… guess…” Evan seemed less sure. Conflicted, he looked at Gregory and then glanced at the closed door to his cousin’s room.

“I can get it. You keep helping Gregory,” Jeremy said quickly. He didn’t want Evan to change his mind.

Evan relented, nodding slightly. “Okay. Make sure to get him a big glass. And don’t be loud. And-“

“I know how it works when someone’s sick, thank you.” Jeremy set his Coke down and rushed back to the kitchen to grab a glass.

Evan had not been exaggerating. When Jeremy crept into the room with the glass of water, Michael was curled into a tight ball on the bed.

“Mike?” Jeremy whispered into the quiet room.

Michael groaned in response. He rolled over to face Jeremy, exposing the hair plastered to his face with sweat.

“I um.” Jeremy swallowed. He felt a little foolish now. Michael was just literally sick. He wasn’t mad at Jeremy or anything like that. “I brought you some water.”

Michael opened his eyes, feebly reaching for the glass.

“Are you strong enough to hold it on your own?” Jeremy asked.

Michael had to consider that for a moment. Then he shook his head.

“Here-“ Jeremy sat next to Michael on the bed, helping pull him into an upright position so he could drink the water.

Michael leaned heavily against Jeremy, eagerly drinking the water. Jeremy had to brace himself against the wall to support the extra weight. Then abruptly, Michael pulled away.

“J… Jeremy,” Michael whispered weakly. He gripped at Jeremy’s jacket, burying his face in Jeremy’s shirt. “I…”

“It’s okay, Mike-“

Michael seized in Jeremy’s arms, sobbing heavily. His hold got tighter and tighter as his body shuddered with pain. Jeremy tried to set the glass on the bedside table, but he barely had it on the edge and water soaked into the carpet as he pulled Michael the rest of the way into his lap. “I got you,” Jeremy said into Michael’s hair.

“It hurts,” Michael cried, still shaking.

“You’ll get through this,” Jeremy mumbled.

A tearing noise broke through the sound of Michael’s sobs, even as they intensified. “JEREMY!!!” Michael wailed.

“I have you, Mike. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

Dimly, Jeremy registered the large wings erupting from Michael’s back. Oh. Oh. This was happening now. Bloody feathers spread out, wrapping around Jeremy to return his comforting gesture.

Gradually, Michael’s crying ceased, and Jeremy was left holding an exhausted teenager with bloody wings. “I am sorry,” Michael whispered, pulling his hands back, the wings retracting slightly. “I did not mean to, uh…”

“It’s okay, Michael.” Jeremy tried to smile at him. He was determined not to squirm in discomfort from all the blood currently soaking into his jacket.

“I… should go shower,” Michael said awkwardly.

“Yeah…” Jeremy wriggled uncomfortably in his jacket.

“Sorry,” Michael said. “I can wash that if you want.”

“It’s not the biggest deal,” Jeremy said.

“It is if you go home wearing a jacket covered in blood,” Michael replied. “It’s only fair that I clean it, since that’s my blood.”

That wasn’t how Jeremy saw it, but he figured he wasn’t getting out of this. “Okay.”

Michael shifted carefully, putting his feet on the carpet. Almost instantly after taking his weight off the bed, he completely lost his balance. His wings flew out, trying to redistribute the weight, but Jeremy didn’t realize that as he caught Michael by the waist. Both of them tumbled off the bed, Jeremy hitting the carpet with a soft ‘oomph.’

“I am sorry. This was not my intent,” Michael said from above Jeremy.

“They take some getting used to, huh?” Jeremy replied, trying to ignore the heat rising to his face.

It hadn’t been much on the bed with Michael clinging to him like a lifeline. But on the floor with Michael on top of him, pinning him to the ground, Jeremy was suddenly aware of how close Michael was to him.

Michael smiled ruefully. “I don’t think I’m strong enough to walk on my own right now. I don’t know how I’m going to wash all this blood off by myself.”

“Maybe your uncle could help?”

“He’s probably back at the library again,” Michael mused as he crawled off Jeremy.

Evan wouldn’t be able to handle it, Jeremy knew that much. And he couldn’t ask for Gregory’s help without alerting Evan to the amount of blood that coated them both.

“Do you want me to help?” Jeremy asked, feeling the heat more intensely in his face. Please say no. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it.

“Really?” Michael chewed his lip, considering it. “I would not want to be a bother… But if you are offering…”

Jeremy’s heart quickened at the prospect. “R-right.”

“Help me up?” Michael asked.

Jeremy pulled Michael to his feet, unprepared for the wings to wrap around him again. “Um.”

“Sorry. I don’t have much control over them yet,” Michael replied sheepishly.

“Do they want me to carry you?” Jeremy gauged the idea of carrying Michael to the bathroom. It wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever come up with.

“It’d probably be less awkward than walking there like this,” Michael agreed.

“So I’m just going to…” Jeremy twisted around in the space the wings allowed him. Michael hissed out a pained breath, but soon he was behind Jeremy. “How well can you jump?”

Pretty well, apparently. Jeremy barely needed to adjust for the weight of Michael on his own back, hands linked beneath Michael’s knees. “Okay. Let’s get you taken care of.”

“I am not a child, Jer,” Michael said wearily. Still, he pressed the side of his face into Jeremy’s hair. “I am sorry to be such a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, Mike. You’re my friend. I’m absolutely willing to help you out when you’re in need.”

“Mmmmm,” Michael sounded almost mournful. But he didn’t argue.

“Okay,” Jeremy said. “So, I’m thinking they might need a decent soaking, right? Birds like to be fully submerged when they clean their wings right?”

Michael blinked at him from where he sat on the toilet lid. “What are you even saying?”

“The blood.”

“It is not dried yet. Not completely anyway.”

“So what? You were planning to just wing this whole thing, weren’t you?” Jeremy shrugged off his jacket.

Michael snorted. “I was planning to shower, Jeremy. But I guess I was planning to wing it, considering how I have wings now.” His wings stretched as he spoke, emphasizing his point. “I just don’t have the strength to stand there long enough to wash them off.”

“I-“ Jeremy sputtered. Clearing his throat, he tried to skip over the accidental pun he’d made. “Just going to let the water do the work?”

“That’s the goal.” Michael frowned. “There’s just a few problems.”

“Such as?”

“My shirt isn’t going to come off the same way it went on this morning.”

“Are you particularly attached to that shirt?” Jeremy asked.

“Not really. Could try to just-“ Michael pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“I’ll go grab a pair of scissors,” Jeremy said as Michael pulled experimentally at his shirt again.

He had to be careful walking by the couch, noticing Evan curled up for a nap. Gregory was nowhere in sight.

Returning with the scissors, Jeremy nearly dropped them upon seeing Michael. “What happened? I was gone for two minutes!”

Michael’s shirt was hanging off his body in shreds. When Jeremy looked closer, he could see sharp claws on Michael’s hands. “I…” Michael shrugged sheepishly. “I thought I could tear the fabric and take it off myself.”

Jeremy’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t let himself laugh. “Okay. I don’t think you did a very good job of it though.”

“It seems as though I failed…”

“Here, let me just…” Jeremy carefully reached around Michael’s head, one knee resting between his legs. It felt strange to be cutting through Michael’s shirt, but as the fabric gave way, Michael seemed to relax a little more.

Jeremy recalled Gregory and Evan both sitting on the couch as Michael measured the shape they needed cut from their shirts for the wings. Perhaps Michael needed a few of those done as well. Something to keep in mind for later.

“Hey, why is there blood all over-“ Gregory’s eyes widened as he peered into the bathroom.

Michael straightened quickly. Jeremy pulled back, hiding the scissors. “Hello.” Michael waved awkwardly, his wings stiff and very clearly exposed.

“You… you have them too?” Gregory’s voice seemed so small.

“Yes, it appears as though we will match.”

Gregory swallowed harshly. “I can help. I know how to get blood stains out of fabric.”

“I would really appreciate it. Thank you, Superstar.” Michael beamed at Gregory, who flushed a deep red.

“It’s no big deal…”

“Not to you,” Jeremy said softly. “But it helps more than you realize. Thank you.”

Gregory opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He scratched his neck as his wings fluffed up, finally saying, “I’ll be quick. It probably won’t be good if Evan finds out.”

“It would be best if he did not know how messy the process is,” Michael agreed.

Gregory nodded, smoothing his hair down before hurrying out of the room.

Michael wadded the scraps of his shirt into a ball and tossed it to the floor. “Now that that’s sorted…”

Jeremy determinedly kept his eyes from wandering as he helped Michael stand. His friend leaned heavily against him for support as he attempted to undo his pants.

Jeremy belatedly realized that the only way this whole thing would work was if the shower ran over both of them. I’m going to be drenched, he thought sorrowfully as Michael muttered to himself in frustration.

“You could probably just sit while I wash the blood off,” Jeremy said when Michael finally stood there in his boxers. “Since it would be less exhausting for you.”

Michael blinked. “I suppose you are correct. I should have thought this through more.”

“It’s no big deal, man. You’re probably dealing with blood loss or whatever.”

“Still…”

“Hey, it’s fine. You spend all this time taking care of everybody. Maybe it’s time someone took care of you, right?”

Michael chewed his lip. “I suppose.”

“Okay. We’ll get you cleaned up in no time, Mike.” Jeremy said, smiling supportively. Michael tentatively smiled back.

As it turned out, it was a lot harder to clean up Michael than Jeremy initially thought. He kept twitching away, hissing out noises of pain at Jeremy’s touch.

Michael clenched his fists in his lap. “Okay. Clearly this is not the proper solution.”

“I can’t do this when it’s clearly hurting you, Mike. I just…” Jeremy leaned forward to rest his head against the back of Michael’s.

“This is nothing. I have endured much worse before.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“Jeremy.” Michael said calmly, wringing water out of the washcloth. “I am sure it has become clear to you that things are not how they should be. The wings are only one part of it.”

“Yeah? What I’m hearing is that your father is abusive.” Jeremy wearily took the washcloth back, dabbing it gently against the space between Michael’s wings. At least like that it didn’t seem to hurt him.

“Well, not in the way you would think. Actually, I was thinking more of the comparison between growing limbs and losing organs. I think losing organs is still a more painful experience than this.”

“So you want me to just ignore your pain?” Jeremy asked, trying to decipher Michael’s meaning.

“I am saying I can handle it. I can be a man about this.”

No one is doubting that, Jeremy thought grimly to himself. “Maybe I can’t.” He tentatively rubbed at a clump of blood in the inner edge of Michael’s wing.

Immediately, it swung at him, throwing him against the sink. Pain flared throughout Jeremy’s entire body as he hit the floor. Faintly he registered that his face was bleeding.

“Jeremy?” Michael asked, twisting around. “Are you alright?”

“Nnnnngh,” Jeremy groaned. “I don’t think I broke anything.”

“I am so sorry. It appears that the wings are more sensitive than I thought.”

“No kidding.” Jeremy pressed his fingers to his cheek. He was lucky. The clawed joint of Michael’s wing had hit him just below the eye. Any higher, and he might’ve lost it completely. “Now what?”

“I suppose I should just sit under the water and hope for the best.”

“I think Gregory and Evan mentioned messages working out the soreness. Maybe I could at the very least-“

“I think we should avoid that for now,” Michael replied, his voice sounding stiff. “You have already been hurt once today.”

“Michael.” Jeremy tried to make his voice sound stern. “I knew the risks when I offered to help. So let me help.”

“Fine. Just do not do anything that will put you in danger again.”

“Don’t lie about how much it hurts next time,” Jeremy shot back. “Still gotta get all that blood out of your wings, you know.”

Michael clenched his jaw, but he only stared down into his hands. He couldn’t face Jeremy with the nasty cut on his face any longer.

Jeremy was lighter after that. He knew that even pressing a little too hard would make the wings spaz, and over the course of the next few hours, he succeeded with minimal interruptions.

Gregory popped in near the end to check on the progress. “Henry’s back. Do you want me to tell him about this?” He gestured at the entirety of the bathroom.

“I believe he should be informed. Please ensure that my brother does not come to investigate before we are done here.”

“And maybe grab him a dry set of clothes while you’re at it,” Jeremy said. As an afterthought, he looked at himself. “Maybe grab me something too, if you would.”

Gregory rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. How much does it hurt?”

“I suspect that I should be in more pain than I am,” Michael said, considering the question. “But Jeremy has done an excellent job of making sure the process is less than agonizing.”

“Uh, okay?” Gregory shot Jeremy a look.

“I can’t hardly touch him without the wings reacting,” Jeremy explained. “Nearly lost an eye the first time I did that.”

“So it’s bad.”

“It’s bad,” Jeremy agreed.

Gregory shot Michael a look loaded with concern, but he gave Jeremy a thumbs up. “I’ll ask Henry if he can get you guys some dry clothes. Maybe I’ll just imply that something else is going on in here if Evan asks.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that made Jeremy’s face burn.

“Gregory-“

But Gregory had already ducked out of the room, laughing quietly to himself. Jeremy sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable glares he’d get from Evan.

Michael sighed softly once Jeremy finally went to smooth out the wings. “That feels really nice.”

“Glad to hear it,” Jeremy said softly. “I think we got all the blood out.”

“Is it time to turn the water off then?” Michael asked, his eyes closing.

“I’d say so.” Thank goodness, Jeremy thought as he turned the dials back and pressed the tab down. “Now you need to dry off a bit.”

“Mmmmm….” Michael hummed to himself as Jeremy stepped into the tub with a towel and started rubbing Michael’s head with it.

Michael’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at Jeremy. “You really do like taking care of me, don’t you?”

Jeremy huffed out a sigh. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, would I?”

“I thought you just stuck around to steal our Coca Cola.”

“That too. But I do enjoy your company, Mike.”

The smile broke into a full grin as Michael tugged the towel out of Jeremy’s hands. “That is wonderful news, Jeremy.”

Did he really not know? Jeremy wondered.

Before he had a chance to answer, Henry peered into the bathroom, assessing the pool of water on the floor. He raised a tired eyebrow as he observed the two boys in the bathtub. “I wasn’t inclined to believe Gregory before, but seeing it for myself…”

Jeremy’s face ignited with heat. “I was just helping clean blood from his wings. Nothing else happened, I swear.”

“I was referring to the fact that Michael grew wings. What did you think I meant?” Henry’s eyebrows scrunched, and Michael gave Jeremy a funny look.

“I thought Gregory might’ve said something else,” Jeremy replied, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

“Are you alright, Jeremy? You look a bit feverish…” A frown tugged at the corner of Michael’s mouth.

“I’m going to go grab some more towels. And you two will be wanting a dry set of clothes, won’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy nodded quickly.

Henry hummed at them before walking back out of the room.

“I am grateful for both you and Gregory,” Michael said, using the towel to dry the rest of his body. He slowly rose to his feet, finally able to stand on his own.

Jeremy determinedly did not stare. Instead, he wrung water from his hair.

“I would offer you the towel, but I believe it is too wet to be any real help. Seeing as your clothes are also drenched, the best course of action is to wait for Henry to return.”

Jeremy smiled weakly. “Yeah, that’s true.”

Michael stepped out of the tub, hanging the towel back on the rack after he went. Jeremy could admit that the wings looked pretty good on Mike. He’d been weary of it when he’d first seen the wings on Gregory, and he knew that Gregory was defensive about it now. But maybe seeing him help Michael would help.

“Do you need a bandage for your face?” Michael asked, making eye contact with Jeremy through the mirror above the sink.

“Oh, I uh.” Jeremy blinked at him. “It doesn’t… It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Michael’s mouth twitched. “I understand that me being like this must be unpleasant for you, but that does not mean you do not need assistance with that cut.”

Being like this? Was Michael phrasing things like that on purpose? Was he talking about the fact that he was in his boxers or the fact that he had wings? Jeremy crossed his arms before remembering that his shirt was soaked. He uncrossed them and simply said, “There is no problem. I just don’t need a Band-Aid.”

Michael walked back over, and Jeremy tried to take a step back before remembering he was standing in a bathtub. Trapped, Jeremy stood stiffly as Michael ran a thumb over his scratch. Don’t flinch, he told himself, but it still stung. The cut was pretty deep.

“You likely do need a bandage, despite your claim otherwise,” Michael replied. “I can help, if you need assistance.”

Michael gently wiped blood from Jeremy’s face and went in search of medical supplies. It stung when he cleaned the wound, but Jeremy found himself too fascinated by Michael’s cautious care to really notice. The tiniest furrow in Michael’s eyebrows appeared when he put the bandage on Jeremy’s face, and his hands lingered on Jeremy’s jaw for just a moment too long.

He almost seemed sad when he stepped back from Jeremy. “All better. See?” Michael smiled so quickly Jeremy wondered if he’d imagined the pain in Michael’s eyes.

“Y… yeah. Um. Thanks.” Jeremy touched the bandage, surprised by how big it was. “I didn’t realize the scratch was that big.”

“I still feel terrible for doing that to you. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” Michael asked.

Unable to come up with anything to say other than a request for Michael to kiss him, Jeremy shook his head and turned his attention to Michael’s wings. “Do they still hurt?”

“Not as much as they did,” Michael flexed them experimentally. Jeremy smiled faintly, recalling that Gregory was having immense difficulty controlling his own wings. Perhaps the size made it easier.

Michael made a face. “It appears that moving them still hurts, however.”

“Evan mentioned something about messaging the muscles earlier. He was doing it for Gregory.”

Michael brightened. “I suppose I shall have to ask for Evan’s help with that endeavor then. Thank you for the reminder.”

I could do it for you, Jeremy thought desperately. He didn’t want to just have to leave after everything. This was the most time he’d spent with Michael before, and the guy was just so chill about everything. But being in the same space as him, watching him interact with his brother and Gregory made him want to stay so much longer. Michael Afton was the most compassionate person Jeremy had ever met, and he wanted to be able to help the man who tried so hard to help everyone else.

It didn’t help that Jeremy was also hopelessly in love with him.

As Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, Henry returned with the changes of clothes. Michael turned his attention away from Jeremy to thank Henry and apologize for the water all over the floor, and Jeremy was left to awkwardly collect the pile of bloody clothes on the floor to offer them to Henry.

Henry stared at the rags for a moment, his face paling significantly. “These were Michael’s clothes?”

“Yes.” Michael was separating the clothes to split between himself and Jeremy, and he was hardly focused on Henry. “I could not find a way to safely remove my shirt without causing more pain, so Jeremy helped me cut it off. I am afraid blood does not come out of denim very easily, so my jeans are also a lost cause.”

Brightening, Michael put a bundle of clothing into Jeremy’s arms. “You can change in Charlie’s old room.”

“Why can’t you both change in here?” Henry asked, sounding confused.

Pressure built in Jeremy’s throat as he tried to answer that question. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of himself. Not by any measure at all. He just knew it was dangerous, what he was. People didn’t exactly approve of people like him, after all. Especially not here.

Michael gave Henry a scathing look as tears built up behind Jeremy’s eyes. “Maybe we don’t want to change in the same room.”

Henry blinked in surprise, but he glanced between the two boys for a moment before making his exit. Michael patted Jeremy’s shoulder. “I can go to Charlie’s room instead, if you would prefer to change in here.”

Jeremy still couldn’t speak, so he just nodded. The gentle way Michael nodded back at him filled his body with a strange warmth. A few moments later, Michael was gone, and Jeremy could finally change out of the sopping wet layers he’d been in this whole time.

Half-way through changing, Jeremy noticed that most of the clothes were baggy and easy to layer over each other. There were almost too many options. A jolt ran through him when he considered that Michael had sorted through the clothes. Either Michael was very particular, or he knew.

Hurriedly, Jeremy finished changing and practically ran to the bedroom where Michael said he’d be changing. He basically flung the door open to a startled Mike, who had jeans on but no shirt. “Is something wrong?” Michael asked.

His wings and hair fluffed up, like he’d been expecting a threat, but his expression was one of concern. Jeremy knew he was shaking, knew he wouldn’t be able to speak for a moment, but he stood there and just stared. Why did Michael have to be adorable in everything he did? The way his mouth curled into a frown made half of his mouth seem to vanish, like he was biting on it constantly distracted Jeremy from what he wanted to say.

He let his eyes wander over Michael’s bare torso as he tried to find the words to speak. The worst of his secrets was surely out already, and if Michael figured out his feelings, it would be less painful than him knowing the other secret.

Fascination over the jagged scar across Michael’s chest sprouted in his heart. Jeremy had seen it before, of course. He’d seen it in the bathroom, but he’d been trying not to stare before.

“Jeremy?” Michael looked worried now. “Are you alright?”

Maybe Michael didn’t know. Maybe he just hadn’t grabbed a shirt at all, since they had to be cut specifically for the wings anyway. Jeremy was probably just overreacting. And even if he wasn’t, it seemed that Michael wasn’t going to bring it up. “Uhmm. I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Michael relaxed. “I’m quite alright, Jeremy. I’m not as weak as I was before. The shower certainly helped.”

“You’re um. You’re very fluffy right now.”

“Am I?” Michael ran a hand through his hair, feeling where it stuck up all over the place. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Jeremy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Thanks for talking to Henry back there.”

“It was nothing.” Michael blinked at him, wings twitching. “Gregory did a good job cleaning up.” He gestured at the carpet and the bed.

The bed was made very neatly, corners tucked so much better than Jeremy could do on a good day. There were only faint hints that someone had been bleeding there, and they were only visible because Jeremy was looking for them. “Yeah. He certainly did.”

A fond smile crossed Michael’s face at that. “He’s so sweet.”

Jeremy didn’t really believe that, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t want Michael to stop smiling for anything. It was so much better than his frown in every possible way.

“We should… I um. I think we should probably head back to the living room,” Jeremy said awkwardly.

“Right, yes. I suppose it is almost time for you to head home too.” Michael blinked, like he was shaking himself out of a daydream. “Or maybe you could stay for supper?”

Jeremy smiled. “I would love that.”

Evan was awestruck when he saw his brother’s wings. “They’re so big!”

“Soft too,” Jeremy said, trying to encourage Evan’s excitement.

Gregory made a noise in the back of his throat before saying, “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

Jeremy stared at him, mouth opening and closing without words coming out.

“No softer than yours, I’m sure,” Michael said, trying to keep the peace. There wasn’t even a hint of a blush on his face at Gregory’s words. Were the jokes just going over his head? Maybe Jeremy was reading too much into it.

Shaking his head, Jeremy plopped down on the couch beside Gregory. “What happened to your face?” Gregory asked quietly.

“I wasn’t careful enough,” Jeremy answered, glancing at the two brothers as they talked about Michael’s new wings. “And Mike’s wings pack quite the punch.”

“Oh.” Gregory’s eyes widened with understanding. “That could’ve been bad.”

“You’re telling me, kid.” Jeremy shook his head, taking a sip from his can of Coke. “What were you and Evan up to today?”

“Videogames mostly,” Gregory replied. “Although everything here is so old.”

“Old?” Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “Nah, my parents are worse. You’re probably just picky. A bunch of this stuff is newer than anything my family could afford.”

“Your motorcycle is cool though.”

Jeremy smiled. “It is pretty cool.”

“Can you take me on it sometime?”

The smile faltered slightly. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“C’mon, please? All the stuff here is pretty boring, and I know Evan tries to be fun, but you can only play the same game for so long before it’s lame. And I don’t want to have to tell him it’s lame. It’s awful when he cries.”

Jeremy didn’t know what to make of that. “Maybe we could play a board game or something.”

“I wanna go on your bike sometime.” Gregory stuck out his chin stubbornly. “Or I’m going to tell Mike you have the biggest crush on him and-“

“Okay, okay! I get it. But you’ll have to wear a helmet,” Jeremy said, looking away and tugging at his shirt. “And long pants. Just in case.”

“Okay, Dad.” Gregory rolled his eyes.

“Well, you’re the one who said it’s awful when Evan cries,” Jeremy shot back. “And I’ve already seen how Mike cries, and I don’t want to see that again. No thanks.”

Gregory flinched at that. “I…”

“Not to frighten you, but it can be dangerous.” Jeremy sighed. “There’s only so much you can be safe. Not to quote my mom, but ‘I’d rather you be late than dead.’ It’s just that kind of thing.”

Seeing Gregory’s expression, he softened. “I’m a firm believer in the fact that both of us are going to get lectured by Michael when he finds out. So, when he tries, we’re going to tell him that I already told you all the risks and you still wanted to do it. Unless I’ve changed your mind.”

“No, haven’t changed my mind.” Gregory scooted closer to Jeremy. “I bet I’d survive a crash better than you.”

“No way,” Jeremy laughed. “With the way you’re built? No offense, but you’d be a splatter on the cement.”

“Rude.” Gregory scoffed. Not subtly at all, he tried to steal Jeremy’s Coke from his hand.

Amused, Jeremy let him. Gregory immediately started downing what was left in the can. At that moment, Michael glanced over and gasped. “Gregory! Is that Coke? Are you encouraging this, Jeremy?”

“He took the can out of my hand. I didn’t do anything,” Jeremy smiled cheekily. “Not my fault he’s so fast.”

“Mmmmm,” Gregory squinted skeptically at the can. “This is Coke?”

“Yeah?” Jeremy looked confused. “Why? Does it taste weird to you or something?”

“It’s better than I remember.”

Michael sighed, removing the can from Gregory’s hands. “That is because Coca-Cola has different flavoring in it than you remember.”

“Are you talking about the whole cocaine in Coke thing? Because I thought that was a myth.”

Michael shot Jeremy an exasperated look. “That is not what I am talking about. Anyway, Gregory does not need caffeine in his system at this time of day. He won’t get any sleep at this rate.”

“Whoops?” Jeremy held his hands up in surrender. “Look I-“

“It does not matter.” Michael shot Gregory a meaningful look. “So long as he doesn’t keep Evan up with his extra energy, it should be fine.”

Evan peered at them all from behind the sofa. “How did he even take it from you? I thought you kept a tight grip on those at all times.”

“Caught me by surprise?” Jeremy shifted his weight as Michael gave him a skeptical look. “He’s faster than he looks, I swear.”

Evan snorted, climbing over the back of the sofa, much to Michael’s despair as he said, “Well, that gives him a one-up in physical games I guess.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? I totally crush at Fazblock!” Gregory crossed his arms. “I had more blocks than you did.”

“Gregory, you’re supposed to get rid of the blocks, not keep them on the screen.” Evan shook his head despairingly. “I would’ve explained the rules if you’d asked-“

“It was different than what I’m used to, okay?” Gregory rolled his eyes. “I could totally beat you at Fazzy Kart.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Evan replied. “I still think you made it up.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too!”

“Okay, that is enough.” Michael shook his head, smiling faintly. “Gregory did not make it up. Fazzy Kart just has not come out yet.” He ruffled Evan’s hair before walking away with the empty Coke can. “And I have something for you two to do when I get back!”

“A task?” Gregory asked.

“A task.” Evan snorted. “Ah yes, my brother typically assigns me tasks. No, Gregory. He’s sending us to do chores or something. Usually he’s more mean about it though.”

“No one understands my jokes.” Gregory’s wing twitched irritably.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jeremy replied. “He still laughed, even if he didn’t get it. Be nonsensical! Nobody cares as long as you’re funny.”

“That’s a terrible line of logic. I refuse to believe that people willingly follow your example,” Michael said, returning with a sheet of paper. “Evan, Gregory, I am trusting you two to find everything on this list and bring it back here.”

“We don’t have money,” Gregory said, but he still took the list from Michael’s hands. “And aren’t we supposed to stay inside until we figure out what to do about our wings? And wait, is it safe to-“

“You worry too much, Gregory. We can just ask Uncle Henry for help.” Evan peered at the grocery list. “What are you making, Mikey? This looks like spaghetti sauce, but you don’t use half this stuff normally.”

“Wait and see,” Michael said cryptically. His own wings twitched as he spoke, even seeming a tiny bit ruffled.

“With the overabundance of clothes Henry seems to have, maybe he has jackets you can just throw on over the wings or something,” Jeremy said, slowly rising from the couch as Gregory and Evan stood to examine the list closer.

“We can handle this,” Evan said with full confidence. “And we’ll try to be fast so you can get started sooner.”

“Thank you, Evan.” There was a deeper tone of relief in Michael’s voice at that. “My heroes.”

Jeremy smiled wearily at them all. “I should probably get going.” It felt like intruding to stay this long. Sure, they all tried to include him, but Michael probably had other things he planned to do while Evan and Gregory were gone. Perhaps he needed to talk to his uncle more or something. Regardless, Jeremy had overstayed his welcome.

“I thought you said you could stay for supper.” Michael sounded wounded. “Are you feeling alright? Do you need to lie down?”

He pressed his hand against Jeremy’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever.”

“I’m fine, Michael. I just don’t want to overstay my welcome, you know?” Jeremy ducked away from Michael’s hand and kept his gaze on the carpet. “Especially if you’re all going to be busy.”

“I won’t be busy until they get back,” Michael replied as Gregory tugged on Evan’s shirt to lead him away. “And even then, I won’t be too busy to talk. You can sit with me in the kitchen while I cook.”

“Yeah but…” Jeremy hesitated, combing a hand through his hair. “Look, I just don’t want to be in the way.”

“You won’t be,” Michael insisted. He sat down on the sofa where Gregory had been sitting before. Patting the cushion next to him, he waited for Jeremy to sit back down.

When Jeremy sat down, Michael gestured for him to scoot closer. ���What are you doing?” Jeremy asked nervously.

“Your hair is a mess,” Michael replied. “I’m going to fix it for you.”

“What do you mean?” Jeremy frowned, patting his hair self-consciously.

“It’s all tangled. That’s going to be a nightmare to brush out tomorrow if you don’t take care of it tonight.”

“Oh.” Jeremy looked away. “It shouldn’t be your responsibility-“

“My wings shouldn’t have been yours,” Michael countered. “Let me do a nice thing for you. Please.”

“I helped with your wings because I wanted to spend time with you. Not because it was a burden, Mike.”

“This isn’t a burden to me either. Let me help. Maybe I want to spend more time with you too.”

Jeremy didn’t have a counter to that, so he reluctantly sighed. “Just… be gentle on it, okay?”

“Of course.” He blinked, seemingly surprised that Jeremy gave in so easily. “I do need to go grab a brush and a comb.”

“Naturally.” Jeremy shifted uncomfortably on the sofa as Michael got up.

What was he even supposed to say to Michael? He hadn’t expected to get this far, and now faced with the opportunity to have a casual conversation with him, Jeremy panicked.

When Michael got back, the hair brush he carried had long strands of dark brown hair in it, and both the brush and the comb were shining with water. “I hope you don’t mind,” Michael said awkwardly. “But I know that hair gets really, really tangled, so I just wanted to make sure I could get the tangles out without hurting you.”

Oh. That was… surprisingly considerate. “And the water is supposed to fix tangles?”

“Better than a dry brush.”

Jeremy just stared. The most he’d been able to do with his hair was to throw it into the world’s worst ponytail when he needed it out of his face. All this talk of the more effective way to brush through his hair without making it hurt stirred something in his chest. There was nothing Michael would do that could possibly hurt more than the way he was currently doing his hair.

Michael sat back down and got to work. It was strange. Jeremy hadn’t had anyone brush his hair in a long time. His mother had been too busy with work to even notice that he needed help with his hair. Or anything really.

“You have really thick hair,” Michael mused softly.

“Yeah. Makes it a real pain sometimes,” Jeremy replied.

Michael was so gentle with it, apologizing softly when the brush scraped his ear or a snag was too rough. Eventually, though, he set the brush aside and started dividing his hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you with your hair,” Michael replied as he started braiding it. “I assume you don’t have a hair brush for yourself, or maybe you just don’t have much time to do your hair every day. But at the very least, braiding it back at night prevents most tangles from getting worse.”

“How do you know so much about this stuff, dude?” Jeremy wondered. “Like, you know more about this than I do.”

“I…” Michael hesitated. “Evan’s not my only sibling. I had a sister. Elizabeth. Her hair was more of a nightmare than this.”

“Oh.” Jeremy fidgeted. He didn’t know what to do with that information.

“And, there!” Michael twisted a ponytail into the end of Jeremy’s hair. “Less problems for later, see?”

“Yeah.” Jeremy touched a hand to the braid, smiling softly. “Thanks, man.”

“It’s nothing.”

“But I say it is something. Come here, Mike.”

Michael’s wings fluffed up ever so slightly, but he did as Jeremy asked, unprepared for the tackle-hug Jeremy gave him. He gasped in alarm as they ended up on the floor, but when he looked up at Jeremy, it was with what Jeremy could only describe as adoration. Then he was suddenly pressed completely up against Michael as his wings wrapped around them both.

Of course, that was also the moment Evan and Gregory came back from their shopping trip with the supplies Michael had asked for. Letting Jeremy up, Michael immediately accepted the groceries from Evan and went straight to the kitchen. Gregory and Evan were left staring at Jeremy, who was sitting with a ridiculous grin on his face.

“Might need some help preparing this!” Michael called.

Before any of them could move toward the door, however, Henry walked by to go help Michael. Which left Jeremy to get teased by the two younger boys.

“What was that about?” Evan asked, picking a long blue feather out of Jeremy’s hair.

“What were you doing on the floor?” Gregory asked.

“Mike did my hair,” Jeremy replied, gesturing at the hairbrush that now had long strands of gold intertwined with the brown.

Evan looked thoughtful as he fiddled with the feather. “I didn’t know Mikey knew how to do hair.”

“Didn’t you tell me you had a sister?” Gregory asked, picking a smaller, brown feather from Jeremy’s shirt. “He could’ve done her hair once or twice.”

“Maybe…” Evan didn’t sound very sure. “Mikey wasn’t… I don’t know. Maybe he did. I never knew, though.”

“He did mention it when I asked…” Jeremy said, suddenly embarrassed to know more than Evan.

Evan fiddled with the feather more. “He seems to like you a lot.”

“Mike?” Jeremy asked, even more embarrassed now.

“Yeah. He smiles when he talks to you.”

“Except that one day,” Gregory interrupted. “He came inside and cried.”

“That was something else, I think,” Evan responded. “I think the Nightmares finally got to him.”

“So I take it Mike doesn’t usually talk about his issues then?”

“Not usually.” Evan squirmed, his wings puffing up. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shook his head and finally got off the floor. “Do you want to try playing Kings in the Corner again?”

“Ugh, that’s so boring,” Gregory replied, but Evan was already rushing off to get the cards.

“I need a second. I’ll be right back,” Jeremy said, slipping into the kitchen to grab another can of Coke.

Michael glanced over from where he was cutting an onion and just sighed. “Jeremy-“

“I know, I know. It’s bad for me or whatever. But I need it, okay?” Jeremy took a long swig from the can. “Better than some habits.”

“Still…”

“It’s fine dude. Cut your onion or whatever.”

Henry said something that Jeremy didn’t catch as he rushed back to the living room. “Okay, are we ready to start?”

“This game is stupid,” Gregory grumbled. He was holding his seven cards, and Evan had already laid out the board.

“I dealt, so Gregory goes first,” Evan replied, ignoring Gregory’s comment.

“Lucky,” Jeremy said, eyeing the board.

“I don’t even know how to play,” Gregory complained. “This game is for old people.”

“I guess we’re old then.” Jeremy’s eyes twinkled. “You have to play a card from your hand onto one of those four cards.” He pointed at the two of diamonds, the king of spades, the four of diamonds, and the seven of diamonds respectively. “You want it to be a lower rank, or less points than the card on the stack. And it’s gotta be the opposite color.”

“Oh.” Gregory stared at his hand for a moment.

“You gotta tell him about the kings, Jeremy.” Evan shook his head. “If there’s a king, you can move it into the spaces between the four other cards, and put a new foundation card down.”

“Huh.” Gregory frowned. “This is too confusing.”

“It really isn’t,” Jeremy laughed, taking another sip from his Coke. “If you really want, you can add your cards back to the foundation pile and watch me and Evan play a game.”

“I’m just going to do that.” Gregory stuck his cards back in the bigger stack.

“Suits don’t matter,” Evan said helpfully. “Only color does.”

Jeremy set off to move the king, and the game begun. Evan went out on his first turn.

“Okay, that was a bad example,” Evan said with a grin.

“You didn’t shuffle very well,” Jeremy said accusingly.  “That was- arghhh. We’re playing another game so Gregory can actually see how the game works.”

“Are we doing points?” Evan said innocently.

“We will once Gregory joins in,” Jeremy replied, collecting the cards from the board. “These are warm-up rounds.”

“Riiiiight,” Gregory replied with an amused snort. “You just got destroyed.”

“Thank you for the obvious and accurate commentary, Gregory.” Jeremy rolled his eyes.

When he flipped the four cards over, three of them were kings. Jeremy let out an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing and Evan grinned at the board. Just like that, he was down to one card. Jeremy scowled at his own cards as it became his turn.

“All four kings on the board in the first turn,” he grumbled.

“Now who’s bad at shuffling?” Evan replied, watching Jeremy’s hand drop to three cards.

“Oh, shut up.”

Evan snickered as it became his turn. “I almost wonder if you were trying to let me win.” He took the ace of diamonds and placed it on the two of clubs that Jeremy had missed during his turn. “Do you have the hang of it yet, Gregory? We may need a third player or this are going to be some very quick games.”

“Ha ha.” Jeremy said as Evan gathered up the cards again. “I’m just used to people who aren’t paying attention nearly as much as you do.”

“I’m just playing the game,” Evan said with a cheeky grin. “You had a six of spades in your hand? You could’ve played that on the seven-“

“I don’t want to hear it!” Jeremy sighed, exaggerating his grief as he drank from his can. “You have eyes like a hawk.”

Evan just hummed at that, his eyes twinkling as he shuffled the cards again. “What do you say, Gregory? Want to try and give it another shot?”

“Sure. Can’t be any worse than Jeremy, right?”

“Alright, I get it.” Jeremy shook his head. “I guess this game isn’t as awful as you want to claim it is, huh?”

“We’ll see.”

Evan pulled out a baggy filled with little red chips and shook it for a moment. “I didn’t have a chance to grab paper, so we can just play with chips, right?”

“Let’s give Gregory one trial run first,” Jeremy said as Gregory stared blankly at the chip bag. “Let him get a feel for the game.”

Gregory’s first round went okay. He managed to play half his cards in the first go, but he failed to notice that he could’ve moved the king to the corner right away, and Jeremy took advantage of that. Humming to himself, Jeremy quickly went through his turn and waited for Evan.

“That is absurd,” Gregory said, watching Evan put down cards and move piles around rapidly. “There’s no way you’re not cheating.”

“It’s all natural, Gregory,” Evan said cheerfully. “You’re just mad because I’m better at games than you are.”

“Grrrrrr….” Gregory scowled as Evan tapped his own card against the table. He put down his one card and waited for Jeremy to go.

Adding another person really did slow down the game a lot, Jeremy thought to himself. This was the first round someone had actually had to draw a card. Evan hummed, but he also needed to draw a card. Unlike Jeremy, however, Evan couldn’t play his. Finally, the game was even again.

Gregory scowled at his cards. “What do I do if I can’t play?”

“Draw,” Jeremy said. “We’ve both done it.”

Grumbling, Gregory drew a card. He brightened as he realized he could play it, and then it was Jeremy’s turn. Jeremy sighed in relief as he was able to play a card on Gregory’s queen, and then move a ten on top of that. Moment of truth, he thought to himself as Evan studied his hand. Michael’s brother shook his head and drew another card. And promptly played it.

Gregory and Jeremy both groaned at that. “See, but now things get interesting,” Evan said cheerfully. “We’ve all been drawing cards and actually have to pay attention to the board.”

“Don’t you always have to pay attention to the board?” Gregory asked as he drew another card. “Ugh.”

“Depends on how close,” Jeremy said smugly, laying down his one card. “I win this round.”

Evan sighed wearily, but he said nothing as Jeremy collected the cards to shove them at Gregory. “Your turn to shuffle.”

Gregory pushed the cards back at Jeremy. “I don’t know how.”

“I guess I can do it for you. But you’re still dealing, alright? Seven cards to each of us.”

Gregory nodded as Jeremy shuffled, and Evan quickly explained how chips worked. Everyone put one chip in at the beginning. Then, when you drew a card, you’d put another chip in. Each card at the end of the game still in your hand was another chip, except for kings. Kings were ten chips.

They all put one chip in the middle as Gregory passed out cards.

“Ready for your first real round, Gregory?” Jeremy asked, looking over his cards.

Gregory huffed, but he nodded anyway. “This is still dumb.”

“What if we made it a bit more fun?” Evan asked. “I’ll put in this feather.” He held up the blue feather he’d picked out of Jeremy’s hair.

“We’re playing for feathers?” Gregory asked. “But we both have feathers.”

“Not just any feathers. Michael’s feathers. I know him better than you do, trust me. He wouldn’t just give those away.”

Gregory considered it for a moment as Jeremy bit his lip. It seemed plenty easy to get feathers in his opinion. Michael shed two of them while Jeremy hugged him before. “Deal. I’ll put in this one.”

Gregory set the brown feather on top of the three chips. Evan did the same with the blue feather. Both of them glanced at Jeremy expectantly.

“I don’t have any. You both took those from me in the first place.” Jeremy rolled his eyes. The feathers were cool, though.

He kind of wished he had some of his own, maybe to braid through his hair or something. But that required winning this game. And since Evan was really good at Kings in the Corner, and also used all the chips in the box, it was really unlikely that he’d win them at the end.

“How about…” Jeremy put twenty more chips in the pot. “I know it doesn’t balance out at all, but you two seem to really want those feathers.”

Evan grinned, and so, the game began.

Gregory surprised them all by nearly going out in his first turn, but Evan still won the first game. They played in relative silence, too busy concentrating to hold a proper conversation. Evan crushed them in the first few rounds, but Gregory eventually got a win when Evan had 6 cards in his hand, resulting in a somewhat decent counter-balance.

It did nothing for Jeremy though. He looked nervously at his dwindling pile of chips every time the game ended and knew it was very unlikely that he’d win. It wasn’t impossible, sure, but it was incredibly unlikely.

“This is eight, Gregory,” Evan said absently, after Jeremy had already played his first turn. “We can play it, but you should pay better attention.”

Jeremy bit his lip at that. He was losing really bad. He really needed a win, and he needed one where the other two were struggling. Accidentally starting a round on eight cards was not a great way to start that.

“How did you even notice that?” Gregory asked.

“Eight feels thicker than seven.”

“How much do you play cards? Jeez,” Jeremy asked as it became Gregory’s turn.

“Enough,” Evan said with an amused smile. “I usually play alone.”

“This doesn’t feel like a game you can play alone,” Gregory muttered.

“You can. It’s just not as fun. But I don’t play this,” Evan said as Jeremy had to draw yet again. “I play Solitare.”

“Right, silly me.” Gregory shook his head. “Dude, how are you losing the game you suggested?”

“It takes a lot of luck, Gregory.” Jeremy sighed, having emptied his can of Coke long ago. “I’ve already accepted my fate. Now it’s just a matter of wondering who wins overall.”

They all fell quiet again as they settled back into their concentration. A few tense rounds went by as they all drew cards. When Evan finally played a card, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he’d last another round.

Or… maybe not. It was a close thing, that balance between drawing and playing. “Are we going to go through the whole deck?” Gregory eventually wondered.

“Maybe,” Jeremy replied wearily.

The pot was massive at this point. Evan’s brow was continuously furrowed, and even his wings were stiff with concentration. There’s no strategy that trumps the good cards being at the bottom of the deck, Jeremy thought to himself with grim amusement.

“Ha!” Gregory shouted his delight as he finally laid his last card.

Jeremy sighed sorrowfully as he glanced at his four chips. He would only have two left for another game after this. If only it had been Jeremy who’d drawn the card to end the game.

“I don’t even remember who shuffled that one,” Jeremy said as Gregory gathered the pot.

“It was Gregory. He started us with eight cards,” Evan replied. “You shuffle next.”

“I’m not going to make it through this game,” Jeremy muttered.

“Then we’ll just play it out, and you can be done after,” Evan shrugged. “Who knows, maybe you’ll win?”

“For every draw you have that you can’t play, I’ll put in a chip,” Gregory offered as Jeremy put his last chip in the pot. “It’ll keep things fair.”

“I’m sure,” Jeremy muttered.

“Awww, you are a grumpy old man. Evan look! He’s so grumpy.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

Evan put his last card down, and Jeremy shook his head. “I’m out. Good luck, Gregory.”

He wondered what Michael and Henry were up to in the kitchen. It had been two hours of this, after all. Surely preparing a meal wouldn’t take that long, especially since Evan implied Michael was making spaghetti.

“Okay, I gotta know. What spaghetti takes three hours to make?” Jeremy said, sitting down at the kitchen table with Henry.

“It’s not the spaghetti that takes so long,” Michael replied from the stove. “It’s the sauce.”

“But why?”

“The flavor has to soak in from the leaves.” Michael shrugged, moving to sit down with them. “What were you playing in there?”

“Cards.” Jeremy shrugged. “Gregory said it was for old people.”

“Then he must have never played cards before,” Henry commented.

“Maybe it’s his age,” Michael suggested.

“Nah. Your brother got really into it. He’s been beating both of us.”

“THAT’S SO STUPID!!!” Gregory shouted from the other room.

Evan laughed and said something in response, as they all glanced toward the hallway.

“No way,” Gregory said, his voice still projecting from the other room. “That’s so stupid!”

“I think the sauce is about done,” Michael said, rising from his seat again. “I should probably begin on the actual spaghetti.”

“I appreciate you deciding to cook for us, Michael,” Henry said. “And not that I’m complaining about your food, but this seems more complicated than some of the other stuff you’ve made.”

Michael just blinked at him, filling a pot with water. “It’s just spaghetti.”

Gregory and Evan walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “It smells great in here,” Evan said.

Michael glanced at his brother and at Gregory for a moment. “Who won?”

“Evan,” Gregory grumbled crossing his arms. “But he cheats.”

“I do not! Withholding cards on my turn is within the rules of the game. Just because it means you have to draw more doesn’t mean it’s cheating!” Evan argued.

“He’s right, Gregory. If he’s withholding cards, it’s still a risk to him since you can easily draw a card at any moment and win the game yourself. There’s a reason it’s ten chips if you’re holding a king at the end of the game.”

“Hmph,” Gregory scowled.

“Jeremy, do you need a new bandage for your face?” Henry asked as Gregory and Evan glared at each other from across the table.

“What? Oh, I’m sure it’s fine.” Jeremy hadn’t realized that the edge of his bandage was peeling off.

“We’ll get that taken care of later,” Henry said. “Were you planning on staying over tonight?”

“I…” Jeremy glanced around the room. “I don’t know.”

“If you decide to stay, let me know so I can tell your parents,” Henry replied, seemingly satisfied. “And would you like another can of Coca-Cola?”

“Yes please.”

“Don’t encourage his addiction, Henry.” Michael crossed his arms as he leaned against the counter.

Jeremy responded by sticking his tongue out at Michael. Michael shook his head and rolled his eyes, but Jeremy saw a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Can I have one too?” Gregory asked.

“Absolutely not,” Michael replied. His wings twitched slightly. “You’re done with caffeine for the rest of the night. If you’re this loud after half a can, I shudder to think of what would happen if you got a full can of Coke.”

“You’re not my mom,” Gregory grumbled.

Jeremy’s mouth twitched. “He tries to act like it though, doesn’t he?”

Michael made an indignant noise as Gregory burst out laughing. Evan giggled too, adding, “Mama bird Mike.”

All three of them broke into bad laughing fits at that one. Henry and Michael just exchanged an exasperated look as Michael stirred the spaghetti. “I can act like it if you really want me to,” Michael eventually said. “But I don’t think you’d like the response, seeing as you two are baby birds in this analogy.”

“What do you mean?” Gregory asked, bewildered.

“I think what he’s getting at,” Jeremy said, amusement glinting in his eye, “is that mother birds regurgitate food into their chicks mouths.”

“Ewwwww,” Gregory gagged.

Evan snorted. “Mikey wouldn’t do that.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Michael raised an eyebrow. “I’ve certainly done worse.”

Evan froze at that. He seemed to be considering Michael’s point. “He totally would…” Evan sounded horrified.

“And with that terrible mental image, it seems that the spaghetti is done!” Henry said, putting a can of Coke in front of Jeremy before going to fetch everyone plates.

“I just need to strain the noodles, and we’re all set,” Michael said. “Could you grab the strainer please?”

Henry nodded and retrieved the strainer. Evan hummed to himself as he fiddled with the two feathers he’d won in the card game. Gregory said nothing, but Jeremy could tell it he was still bitter from his loss. Surely Michael wouldn’t be unwilling to give up feathers if they asked, Jeremy thought to himself. Maybe he’d be uncomfortable with the idea, but if Gregory said how much he really wanted them, Jeremy was sure Michael would give in eventually.

“It’s going to be hot.” Michael warned, carrying the pot of spaghetti to the table.

Henry quickly placed a potholder beneath it, and Michael went back to retrieve the sauce for the spaghetti. “Do you want to get cups out, Evan?”

Evan nodded and got up from his spot. “Gregory, you can get the plates.”

The whole group cycled around the kitchen like a little family, and Jeremy felt a little self-conscious about his place in everything, so he went and grabbed forks for everyone. It was the least he could do.

Michael dished out the food, putting just enough sauce on their spaghetti that they could avoid it if they wanted to. All of them were a little skeptical of the meal, but they all trusted that Michael knew what he was doing. Gregory and Evan both seemed startled by the taste, but Henry simply raised an eyebrow as he took a bite. Michael didn’t seem particularly concerned about their reaction, though.

He was too busy observing Jeremy when he tried it.

It was… spicier than he expected. Jeremy glanced at Michael, suddenly suspicious of him. Michael blinked at him, casually taking a bite of his own spaghetti. Jeremy glanced at him again before moving his plate to the saucepan full of spaghetti sauce and adding more to his plate.

Michael’s slow smile made Jeremy feel even more confident about his decision. Somehow, Michael had figured him out yet again, almost without effort. Jeremy stuck another forkful in his mouth and smiled back at him.

“Gregory, slow down. You’re going to make yourself sick,” Evan said.

“It’f, fine.” Gregory swallowed hard.

“Careful you don’t choke,” Henry said warningly.

Gregory set his fork down quietly, his eyes watering. He coughed a little bit, causing Michael to turn to him with concern. “Gregory? Are you alright?”

Gregory fanned himself, and Jeremy immediately figured out what was going on. “Too spicy for you? You barely had any!” He shook his head and poured Gregory a glass of milk. “Drink this. It’ll help.”

Gregory eagerly took the glass, draining it in less than a minute. “Mmmmm.”

The rest of the meal went in relative silence, with Evan and Henry occasionally teasing Gregory for eating too fast and being unable to handle spicy food. Michael seemed oblivious to the main conversation, smiling softly to himself.

Jeremy knew he was staring, but he figured it wouldn’t be the biggest deal. Plenty of people stared at their friends, right? At the way they twisted spaghetti noodles onto their forks and brought their forks to their mouths. At the way their eyes glowed with joy at making something new successfully.

Michael caught his eye, and the smile widened. Jeremy felt himself smiling back easily. He’d already finished his food, and Evan and Gregory had finished half the spaghetti by themselves. There wouldn’t be many leftovers anyway.

Henry was the first to move from the table. He collected plates from everyone to take to the sink. When Michael moved to help, Henry waved him off, insisting that since Michael made the meal, he shouldn’t have to clean it up, with a meaningful look toward Evan and Gregory. He stopped Jeremy when he tried to get up too, insisting that guests shouldn’t need to help.

“But I thought we were guests,” Gregory grumbled when Evan tapped his arm to help him get up.

“Jeremy, that bandage really does need to be changed before you go,” Henry said quietly, gathering the leftovers into different containers.

“I can help him with it,” Michael said.

“Michael, you’ve done enough today. Especially with how you were feeling this morning-“

“I can help,” Michael interjected stubbornly.

Jeremy raised a confused eyebrow at the way Michael’s wings and hair ruffled.

“You need rest,” Henry said in a tone that brokered no argument.

Still, Michael persisted, the feathers now completely refusing to lay flat. Jeremy wondered how this could possibly be something he’d need to be so defensive about. “Hey, maybe Henry’s right. You have done a lot today.”

Michael scowled at that, and he grabbed Jeremy’s arm and practically dragged him out of his chair.

“What- Hey!” Jeremy stumbled into Micheal, expecting him to apologize or something.

“There’s the old Mike,” Evan mumbled quietly.

Michael’s face was right in front of Jeremy’s as he spoke. “I know my limits.”

“Do you?” Gregory challenged. He didn’t seem frightened in the slightest, which was very different from the atmosphere surrounding Michael at that moment. “To me it seems like you keep going until you drop. Maybe you should just get rid of that chip on your shoulder and let someone else handle it for once!”

“Like you did?” Michael snapped, and at that, Gregory actually flinched. “Sometimes, you can’t trust that help will come, Gregory. You should know that better than anyone.”

Gregory’s grip on the plate in his hands tightened. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have a family who took care of me like you do! So just suck it up.” Jeremy heard tears behind those words, and Evan mumbled something gently to him and tried to get him to turn his back on Michael.

That seemed to break something in Michael’s resilience. His wings twitched, and he let go of Jeremy’s shirt. “Right. Sorry.” He sounded just as torn as Gregory. “I…”

Jeremy figured nothing would be helped by Michael sticking around in the kitchen, so he tentatively put a hand to Michael’s shoulder. “Hey, you can help with my bandage. Maybe just tell me how to put it on so I do it right tomorrow morning, yeah?”

“So you aren’t staying then?” Henry asked, looking worriedly between the four boys.

Michael’s ashen expression was not particularly reassuring. “No, I mean. If it’s okay for me to stay, I plan to. I just… Maybe it should be my responsibility to fix that?” Jeremy gestured at the scratch on his face. “Seems like all I’m doing here is making more messes anyway. Might as well try to clean one up myself, right?”

Henry frowned but he said nothing.

Jeremy leaned close to Michael’s ear. “Come on then.”

“I didn’t mean to… I hurt his feelings,” Michael mumbled as he mechanically peeled the rest of the bandage away from Jeremy’s face to wipe at the scratch with a wet cloth.

“Energy was running high. Maybe you are a bit more overwhelmed then you thought? Frayed nerves break way for anger sometimes. Or so I’ve heard.”

“I still shouldn’t have done that.” Michael couldn’t even look Jeremy in the eye. He was too distraught.

“Why did you get so defensive, if you don’t mind me asking? And I’m not just talking about Gregory. You were adamant about helping me with my bandage.”

“I just…” Michael hesitated. “I haven’t had a chance to see you in days, and I wanted to get every moment I could?”

“An afternoon together wasn’t enough?” Jeremy teased, even though he knew exactly how Michael was feeling. “Look, that’s okay, Mike. But you gotta take care of yourself too.”

“Yeah, but-“

“What do you want? I know you think you have to help everybody all the time, but you’ve gotta have desires too, right?”

“Maybe I don’t deserve to have my desires realized,” Michael replied. He still wasn’t looking at Jeremy. “Maybe I’m just a rotten person who doesn’t deserve joy or anything that doesn’t directly benefit anybody else.”

“Michael Afton.” Jeremy said, trying to sound stern. “You are a human being just like everyone else. We all make mistakes. And you sound like you’re trying to atone for yours. I don’t know about you, but someone who tries to learn from their mistakes sounds like someone who deserves to have what they want every now and again.”

Michael completely froze at that. When he met Jeremy’s eyes, he looked utterly shattered. “I…” He swallowed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s okay, Mike. No one is asking you to do everything-“

“No, you don’t understand.” His voice was hardly a whisper. “I’ve… That scolding… You’ve said that to me before.”

“I have?”

Michael nodded mutely. “It was right before…” His wings stretched their full length as Michael squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t.”

“What can’t you do, Michael?” Jeremy asked softly.

A pained noise rumbled in Michael’s throat, and he dropped the cloth, yanking Jeremy forward by his shirt. Their mouths crashed together, and all Jeremy could think was finally. His own hands went behind Michael’s shoulders, and he gently guided the wings back into a folded position before stroking them gently.

He didn’t want to stop kissing Michael. It was freeing and exhilarating at the same time. Michael tasted like bubble gum and smelled like clean laundry. He was the weirdest man Jeremy had ever met, but maybe that was what made him so alluring. Or maybe it was something else. Something about all this just seemed so… right.

When Michael broke away, Jeremy tried to follow. Michael looked at him fondly and laughed. “I thought you said I needed to take care of myself.”

“I can’t be that addicting,” Jeremy said impulsively.

Michael snorted. “I need air, Jeremy. We were both going to pass out if we kept that up.”

“Can we do it again?” Jeremy didn’t care about air. He just wanted to be close to Michael, wanted to make him smile, wanted to make him laugh.

Michael laughed again, a brilliant sound, before Jeremy pressed their lips back together. It was completely perfect.

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

CW: dubcon (kind of??? Idk)

There's this conversation going around,

"If you invite me over to your place as a first date, I'm stealing something from your house to teach you a lesson about inviting random women to your place."

And I think this is hilarious, just imagine what 141 would think/do:

Soap: He doesn't notice when something is missing. It'll take weeks until Kyle points it out,

"Johnny, where's your PlayStation?"

He's immediately infatuated, he thinks you love him. You like him so much you needed to take his PS5 as a piece to remember him by, how sweet. Of course he's gonna return the favor by breaking into your place and bringing all his shit with him. You walk into your flat to find him wearing nothing but his boxers playing GTA,

"Hi doll, whan's dinner?"

Gaz: Pissed off to no ends. You took his fucking Amiri shirt, he just got that! He's hunting you down and when he busts through your door seeing you wear nothing but his shirt, he freezes. He can't help himself after that. You'll be squirming under him, cursing and spitting, while he pins your hands above your head with a crazed look in his eyes,

"If you wanted an excuse to see me again, should've just said that."

Price: Now he knows it wasn't gentlemanly to not take you out on a proper first date, but he hurt his leg and thought making a nice dinner and making you cum until you cried would suffice. Apparently not, a $600 box of cigars are gone. He's angry, hurt, confused. Poor man thought he was doing the right thing. Now he knows that you don't like when men treat you right. He'll snatch you up when you're walking home from work and tie you down to his bed. Brats get tamed, thieves get punished.

Ghost: He doesn't really have much, doesn't need much honestly. So when his switchblade is gone, he's seeing red. He curses your name while he stalks you for weeks. Blood boiling every time you laugh at a joke with your friends or sing along to some stupid song while you cook. Slowly but surely, things in your apartment start disappearing. Remotes, chargers, panties. You lose it when the plate in your microwave goes missing, changing the locks and setting up a ring camera. Simon is a smart man though, he'll wait for the perfect moment to knock on your door (when you are expecting a food delivery) and when you open the door absentmindedly, he barges in, firm grip on your throat,

"Teach you a thing or two about taking what doesn't belong to you."

[hiimawarish]

too soft for all of it

s. mutual pining with jing yuan (and a very uncomfortable yanqing). cw. fluff. maybe a little crack? mutual pining. funny misunderstanding. maybe a little suggestive, but not too much. female/afab reader. tw. none. not proofread. wc. 0.69k a/n. i have no excuse for this more than i love this man and he has ruined me. credits. dividers by @/cafekitsune.

As Yanqing hesitates outside the door, he wonders if you really think you’re fooling anyone. You’re not. He is sure of that. Knowing the General, there is no way he is convinced that whatever you two had going on was kept a secret. The soft echo of laughter within the Seat of Divine Foresight tells him as much—the poor boy recognized your voice as soon as he had arrived, with his hand up balled into a fist, almost knocking, yet he stopped. He stopped. And he has been here, stuck in front of the door, for what feels like an eternity.

“I need to go,” He can hear you say. The voice is muffled, but his training makes it easy to strain his ear to understand. “My break at work will be over soon.”

“I’m sure I can come up with a good excuse for Lady Fu to allow you more time.” 

Ah, there he is. 

Yanqing feels himself blushing, then. What is he doing here, frozen in front of the closed door, listening to this conversation? The truth is that the General had called for him. That is the first reason. The second, well, he had some pieces of information to report. Now he wonders if they are important enough to knock and interrupt whatever is going on inside. The boy shakes his head at that—no, maybe he is merely imagining things. As laid down as the General is, he truly doubts that he would make use of the Seat of Divine Foresight for such inappropriate acts.

Right?

Right?

God, he just wants to get out of here.

“General?” Yanqing finally knocks, feeling both ashamed and upset that he seems caught in this position. Honestly, who does he think he is fooling? Although the office’s expanse is more than enough, it isn’t as if the giggles and whispers do not make it outside at all. Ugh. “You called for me?”

“Yes. Come in.”

Yanqing feels himself freezing again at that. He had… He had actually asked him to come in? 

“Yanqing?” The General calls, again. 

“Coming!”

The boy pushes the doors open against his better judgement. His mind runs wild with all the possible scenarios, with all his possible outbursts… only for him to be left speechless. There is no state of undress, no inappropriate scene. The only thing out of place is the starchess. You’ve been playing… All this time, all those whispers, everything… For a game?

Yanqing feels himself blushing, then, furiously. General Jing Yuan watches him with curiosity first, and then the molten gold eyes of his gleam knowingly—ah, he has been discovered. 

“Yanqing,” You call him. He seems startled, and still flushed, but if you notice, you do not mention it. “Tell the General that he cannot move this piece like this. He’s cheating.”

Ah, his old antics.

“I am not cheating,” Jing Yuan crosses his arms across the expanse of his chest, an amused smile curving into his lips as he glances at you. Yanqing observes the exchange in silence. Neither of you say anything, and yet the General’s eyes seem to soften as they lay on you. “You’re a sore loser.”

“Says the one who’s always hiding pieces of chess,” Yanqing adds.

Jing Yuan makes a face. “That’s different.”

“How so?” You retort, almost exasperated. 

Though your voice sounds upset, Yanqing can see beyond that. He can see the longing in your eyes as you glance at the general, those secretive looks that you both think no one else can see, but for the Lieutenant are evident. He notices the lingering touch of your hand on Jing Yuan’s shoulder as you nudge him, playfully, the way he smiles at the feeling of your hand on him. 

Yanqing realizes, then, that perhaps the General is softer than he once thought.

It’s apparent. 

“I’m leaving now,” you announce, taking a few steps toward the exit. “I already wasted my break on a game with a cheater.”

A rumble of laughter parts Jing Yuan’s lips at your words. “You wound me.”

Yanqing stays silent, watching you banter—yes, the General has definitely gone soft.

Soft for you.

more works.

©2023 hiimawarish do not translate, repost, copy, modify

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 6

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: This chapter is a heavy one, but ultimately shifts her relationship with Ben…

Word Count: 6,700

Trigger Warnings: (18+ only.) Attempted sexual assault, violence, mentions of domestic violence, torture, and past trauma. Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.   

Part 6: A Hot Meal

Frank informed you the next morning that Simone, the new chef, had to call in sick. Apparently she’d slipped a disk in her back after yesterday’s festivities. 

Poor thing. You wished her a safe recovery, and an STD panel. 

But that left you and a handful of hungry men gathered in the kitchen like stray cats.  

Soldier Boy’s crew was a mere few. Some were former military, all were gruff, grisly-looking guys.

Frank was their leader, stocky and stoic, and an ex-Marine from the Dominican Republic. Followed closely by Saul, who was a taller blonde from Idaho, and ex-Navy. 

Then there was Lorenzo, appropriately nicknamed “Loco,” who reminded you the most of Frenchie. Loco was Colombian, lean, and covered in tattoos, but generally the most laid back and always cracking jokes (dirty or otherwise). 

You’d learned that he’d been in the same unit as Frank. And he was the one who took the second shift on watching you in the beginning of your imprisonment. 

And finally, there was asshole Tony, the only true local. But you didn’t hold that against the rest of Colombia. 

He at least was still sleeping after an all-night job, according to Frank. 

You assumed Ben was still in bed as well, because he hadn’t yet graced you all with his presence. 

The rest of them were staring into either the fridge or the pantry, trying to work out breakfast. 

“I could whip up some eggs,” Loco said. 

“You mean those rubbery shits you made yesterday?” Saul quipped. Loco frowned, but shrugged in admission. 

“We’ve got cereal,” Frank pointed out. 

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch?” Loco asked hopefully. 

“Raisin Bran.”

“Maldito hijueputa. I can’t live like this.”

You watched them fumble around like they’d never seen the contents of a fridge before, shaking your head in disbelief. Were all men really this helpless? 

You sighed and stood up from your stool at the breakfast bar. 

“All right, guys. Step aside,” you said. “My powers are limited, but I can attempt an omelet of some kind.”

Frank discreetly let out a relieved breath, while Loco made fervent Catholic blessings to the Virgin Mary. Saul seemed to be reserving his judgment until he tasted said meal. 

You smiled and took out two cartons of eggs, some evaporated milk, onions, garlic, ham and cheese, and some fresh spinach you found in the vegetable drawer. Then you rooted through the pantry and found the seasonings you needed, like sea salt, pepper, and oregano.

Yvette taught you this recipe, and it was one you’d been successful with before. So it stood to reason that you could do it again. 

Within half an hour, you were serving sections of two massive omelets to each man (seriously, it might as well have been a quiche), with a generous portion for yourself. Though you still saved a large piece for Ben…and yes, even Tony. 

Loco took a huge bite and moaned. Saul frowned in disgust and shot a fist into his shoulder. 

“Shut the fuck up, man,” he reproached. 

“But it’s hella good,” Loco said, rubbing his shoulder. He offered you two thumbs up and a wide smile. “Gracias, corazón.” 

“You’re very welcome,” you said with a laugh, and fought hard not to blush in embarrassment. Frank gave you a rare, conspiring smile. 

Who would’ve thought a hot meal could make you friends among criminals?

“Even Saul’s got nothing to complain about,” Frank remarked, noting the other man’s silence in his thoughtful chewing. Until Loco teasingly prodded him in the side with a fork. 

Saul made a sound of irritation around a mouthful of food and fended him off with a warning look (and a threatening butterknife).  

Loco tsked. “You have to untighten your asshole, my friend. You will give yourself a hemorrhoid.”

“You are my hemorrhoid,” Saul snapped. 

You stifled a giggle. 

Frank wore a deadpan look, but amusement still glinted in his eyes.    

“He’s just mad because Loco put peanut butter in his gun last night,” Frank told you in a lowered voice. But Saul still heard it, because his frown deepened while Loco’s grin edged into a smirk. 

“You know how hard it is to unjam that shit out of the slide?” Saul said. “Even the safety’s clamming up now.” 

“Shit, I should’a put jam too!” Loco said. “PB&J in a barrel, no?”

Saul punched his shoulder again in the same spot as before. Loco made a pained sound, but took the abuse with a good-natured smirk.    

“Very mature,” you laughed quietly. 

“Fucking children,” Frank agreed, with a sip of his coffee. But something told you that he was fond of these assholes. 

And that’s how Ben found you all. 

He stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, for a moment just watching his crew eating, joking, laughing—with you at the center of it all. 

He’d been standing here long enough without them noticing that he was actually getting annoyed, until Frank finally looked over and straightened a bit. 

“Sir,” he said. All eyes in the room went to Ben, who raised a brow and strolled in with a casual, lazy gait. He nodded at his men, who all greeted him back with respect. 

He noted you tightening up too, your expression turning more careful as you lowered your eyes and continued eating. 

There was something about it that annoyed him. But he ignored that for now, in favor of heading over to the pan on the stove. 

“Your plate is over here,” you mentioned, sliding over his breakfast. “Coffee’s still hot in the carafe.”

Ben flashed you a sly smile. “All right, sweetheart. Why don’t you get me a cup?”

He knew you’d frown, just like that, with annoyance glinting in your eyes. Try as you might, you couldn’t hide it all the time—your stubbornness. You were mouthy too, with an answer for fucking everything.

But when he took the proffered plate and tried the eggs, he raised his brows in pleasant surprise. 

“Okay. So you can cook,” he said. “Good to know.”

You raised a brow at that, but you handed him a mug of black coffee. He took a sip and made a face of disgust.

“Jesus, could at least put some sugar in there.” He passed it back to you. “Fix that for me, would ya?”

Your brow twitched again, but you took the mug wordlessly. Saul got up from his seat at the bar and washed his plate in the sink himself before he left, followed by Loco, who thanked you one more time before he followed Saul’s lead. 

You gave Ben his coffee while you started putting the leftovers away and soaking the pan in the sink. When Ben next took a sip, he coughed as his tongue was assaulted by sweetness. He shot you an irritated look.

“What the fuck is this?” he snapped. 

You looked over at him with widening eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Too sweet?” 

Your face was all innocence, but he was starting to figure you out. He caught a gleam of satisfaction in your eyes. His lips twitched, not sure if they wanted to smirk in amusement or frown in annoyance at your audacity. 

Ben glanced over at Frank, who stood near you with an empty plate. Clearing his throat, Frank set his plate in the sink and also washed it himself.

Ben dumped his coffee there and gave Frank a look—one that said to fuck off. 

His subordinate actually hesitated, making Ben’s frown deepen. But the man eventually left you and Ben alone while you finished up the dishes and Ben ate his breakfast. He didn’t mind complimenting the chef. 

“You surprise me, sweetheart. Now, if you start cooking more often than you eat up the pantry, I may need to keep you around,” he remarked teasingly. And he dumped his plate into the sink while you were busy washing the large pans you’d used.

It was meant to be a joke. He’d said worse things to you before and you’d volleyed back playfully, or at worst case, brushed it off. So the way your head whipped towards him with a glare managed to take him by surprise. 

“Maybe if you put as much energy into feeding yourself as you do into fucking your way through South America, you wouldn’t be such a helpless asshole,” you said. 

It changed the air in the room, making it tense as Ben raised his brows at you. He straightened to his full height and approached where you stood at the kitchen sink. 

“Care to fucking rephrase that?” he asked.

Did this bitch really just call him helpless?

You had one hand on the counter, maybe to steady yourself. Your chin took on a defiant tilt as you stared up at him and crossed your arms. 

“At least your team has the decency to say thank you,” you snapped. “You can’t even be bothered. What are we, your fucking slaves? Should the whole fucking world bow to suck your wrinkly dick?”

Your vitriol somewhat put him on his heels. He stared at you, incredulous.

“I knew that doe-eyed Mary routine was a fucking show,” Ben growled. “Behold the salty cunt underneath. When yesterday, I know for a fact you were contemplating sucking on my cock like the fucking slut you are.”

Your expression became enraged. You aimed to slap him, with even your nails poised to scratch at his eyes, but he knew the attempt would hurt you far more than it’d hurt him. He grabbed your wrist and threw it away from him. 

You huffed, irate beyond belief, and tried to walk away from him before you said anything else you’d regret. 

But Ben’s hand closed on your arm again and whipped you around. You saw the anger in his eyes, the effort he was making to hold himself back. You both knew that with just a fraction of strength, he could crush you. He could end the game.

You were angry enough right now that you didn’t care. 

“Do it,” you challenged. “Bat me around until I act right. You supes call yourselves heroes, but I don’t see anything noble about you.” 

Instead of your arm, Ben gripped the counter next to you as his nostrils flared. His fingers bit into the tiles, cracking through them and making you flinch. 

“Go to your fucking room,” he ordered. “Before I take you up on that offer.”

Before he loses his shit, you interpreted. 

Your sister’s words again managed to cut through the red of your temper.

Protect yourself.

You hesitated, trying to slow your breath. Then, you lowered your eyes. And you scurried back to your room. 

You only released your tears when you were blessedly alone.  

Meanwhile, Ben was fucking fuming. He took it out on a potted plant, smashing it on the kitchen counter. He watched the fractals of clay spin off like bobble tops and the soil scatter across tile and in the sink. 

All the while, he refused to actually acknowledge how your words had affected him—other than infuriating him.

You were stubborn, with a smart goddamn mouth. You clearly hated him, and not just because you tried to help Butcher put him back to sleep. 

But he’d been spotting hints of attraction behind your blushes, whenever he teased you. He was mollified, slightly, with the knowledge that your body was interested, even if your mind was having a hard time being persuaded. 

Ben could work with that. 

But another part of him wondered…what the fuck was it about this girl? 

Why does it matter if she’s fucking into me or not? What the fuck do I care? He certainly wasn’t wanting for pussy. 

He should’ve gotten rid of you a long time ago. In fact, he should’ve shipped you back to Butcher, better yet, with a bullet through your skull so his band of morons would get the message…

But there was something about you. He’d known it from the moment he saw you in that club. When you broke dumbass Tony’s foot with that lethal goddamn heel, wearing black leather and a sexy gleam of confidence in your eyes as you walked away. 

To continue your hunt for Soldier Boy.

If Ben was honest with himself, (and he wasn’t), you had a fire he just didn’t want to dim. 

You were avoiding him. That was obvious. And maybe Ben was avoiding you too, a bit.

He whittled away the next couple of days with lines of coke, weed, and booze, among other things. Still, none of it managed to dull his mind enough to get a full night’s sleep. Because every time he closed his eyes, he dreamed of being in a metal coffin, unable to pry his eyelids open.

Most of it was flashes of memory mixed with nightmares. Of being frozen and defrosted, his head held underwater just to see how long he could go without breathing.

Being electrocuted on every surface of his skin to see which parts of him were more sensitive than others, less or more durable. What affected him more, bullets or acid, electricity or burning. 

Then the serums that lit his blood on fire, making him feel like his bones were liquifying from the inside out…

Ben would wake in his large bed, covered in sweat. And it took a hell of a lot to even make him dewy. 

The problem was, this was happening more often. Thanks to his abilities though, he was able to function on less sleep than most people anyway. 

At night, sometimes he walked through the dark and empty halls of this huge fucking mansion that felt empty as shit, even when he crossed one of his men. 

Sometimes, he wondered what it was all for—the long years of his life. Sometimes he wondered why he was still here, with no team, no family, no fame, and no real fucking life.

In the morning, after he cleared through the brain fog of post-drugging, Ben wandered downstairs and slurped down a mug of coffee. 

Simone was back, and she dutifully put together a frittata for him. Really, he was craving some plainer eggs and bacon, but this would do, he guessed.

After he finished eating, he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to do. The drugs were starting to bore him, as were the women, if he was honest. 

Ben ventured near the French doors leading to the backyard. He noticed you sitting outside in the garden, surrounded by little yellow flowers. Your mouth was moving, but he could barely hear you. 

Slowly he opened the door, so you wouldn’t hear him. Ben approached from behind, but didn’t go far. He just got close enough to hear you softly singing, letting the wind carry your voice away. But now he heard you perfectly. 

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say…if I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”

You had a good voice, he acknowledged. And just within the safety of his own mind, it reminded him of the way his mom used to hum along with the radio when she cooked. 

His mouth quirking, he returned inside and fished for the phone in his pocket. He scrolled through his contacts and found the number for his favorite escort service here in Colombia. 

Now that your anger had died down, you were feeling a bit guilty. You felt more than justified in raking Ben over the coals, and when you thought of how he’d snapped back at you, it still made your blood boil…

But somehow, your guilt remained. Maybe there’d been a better way to say those things. A gentler way that his massive ego could accept. 

Though you snorted as you walked through the halls that were now second-nature to you. It was late at night, but not too late that your brain could be calmed and cajoled into sleeping.

He doesn’t understand gentle, your mind reasoned. All that gets through his head is brute force. And sometimes, not even then. 

But he’d had every chance to lose his temper violently with you. While he’d certainly been an asshole, he hadn’t tried to break you. Just the kitchen counter. 

Curiouser and curiouser…

Without meaning to, your feet brought you close to his door. Your hand was poised to knock…but you hesitated.   

Then you heard the sounds coming from within, lusty feminine sighs and male grunting, and you grimaced. Memories of your previous experience in opening Ben’s door flit through your mind and made you blush. 

Nope, not this time. You made a sound of disgust and backed away from the door, then fled back down the hall. 

With a sigh of boredom, you supposed you could use a midnight snack. You’d just have to go it alone this time. 

Fine, you thought, suddenly petulant. And you would make something good too. Something that took some effort, and he wouldn’t get a single morsel! 

You went down to the kitchen and rifled through to find the ingredients you needed to make one of your mom’s old comforts: chocolate chip muffins. You didn’t have a Betty Crocker box mix, but you thought you remembered Yvette’s recipe to make them from scratch. 

You found a mixing bowl and threw in the powdered ingredients first—the flour, baking powder, sugar, salt. Then you added the vanilla extract, the eggs, vegetable oil, milk, and whipped them up into a batter. You dipped a finger in to taste it so far, and you smiled with a pleased hum.

“Whatever you’re making, it already smells good.”

Your smile fell as you looked up. Tony walked into the kitchen with his booted foot. 

You wanted to sigh. What the hell does this bitch want?

His long hair was tucked behind his ears, and he was dressed in tactical gear this time, complete with a belt, though curiously devoid of his gun.

The last time you’d seen him in this ensemble, he’d been kidnapping you. Maybe Soldier Boy sent him off on an “official” errand of some kind, like buying drugs off a cartel or something.

“Good evening,” Tony said with a nod. You nodded back at him, watching him as he approached the kitchen island. You made sure it remained between the two of you as you went to the fridge for some more milk. The batter was a bit too thick.

“What’re you making?” he asked.

“A roast chicken,” you sassed. He shot you a dry look and surveyed the ingredients across the counter. He reached for your open bag of chocolate chips and stole a few, scooping them into his mouth. 

Rude, but you didn’t comment. You knew you shouldn’t snipe too much with him. 

“Whatever it is, mind saving some for me this time?” he asked. “I heard you made breakfast for the guys the other day.”

“I did saved you some,” you replied. “Not my fault if the self-proclaimed King of Everything ate it all.”

In most ways, Ben was a bottomless pit. 

Tony started to curve around the kitchen island. You didn’t miss the move, and you stepped carefully in the other direction. 

“What? I just want to grab a beer,” he said, giving you a teasing smirk. “You afraid of me, mi vida?” 

You were really sick of men giving you unearned endearments. 

“Oh, yeah. Fucking petrified of the one-legged wonder,” you replied. Your voice was dripping with sarcasm. Tony’s sly façade fell into irritation. 

There it is, you thought.  

“You really are a bitch,” he said tersely. 

“Takes one to know one, bitch,” you rejoined. It wasn’t your wittiest comeback, to be sure, but it still seemed to infuriate him. You should’ve been trying to diffuse his temper, not goading him. You just didn’t really think he would try anything after what happened last time.

But you were wrong. 

Tony went after you, swifter than you thought possible with that big-ass boot. You muttered a curse and tried to evade him, but he grabbed you by your hair and yanked you back, making you shriek in both surprise and pain. 

You had no choice but to twist and aim a shot to his throat with your elbow. While he choked, you aimed another blow to the bridge of his nose, knocking his head back. 

You should’ve just fled the kitchen. Guaranteed, you could’ve outrun him. But his audacity made your temper snap. You followed up with a well-lined fist in the same region of his face, once, then twice, and he uttered a shout of pain as you both felt the crunch of his nose breaking. 

But then he managed to grab your arm. The two of you grappled, him slipping his foot out of the way when you tried to drive your heel into his boot. 

“Can’t get me twice, you fucking cunt,” he hissed, and pulled something from behind his back. Your eyes widened, thinking it was a gun. 

And it was a gun. Just not the kind you anticipated. 

A shock of electricity ran through your entire body as he tased you in the side, right below your ribs. You convulsed as he did it, unable to move until he relented. It made a few seconds feel like minutes of agony. 

You couldn’t even scream. Even when he stopped tasing you, you gasped in air and lost control of your legs. 

Tony hooked an arm around your waist and propped you up against the counter. With whatever strength you had, you raised your head, dazed and still in pain as you tried to grasp his shoulder.

He smirked down at you. With one hand, he ripped open your shirt so hard that the fabric burned against your already tingling skin. You gasped as you finally realized what he was about to do.

“Nnn…” you uttered, shoving weakly at his shoulder. 

“Shhh,” he said. His cold and lustful blue eyes roved over your heaving breasts still held in your bra, the expanse of your skin. He was able to get a grip of the button on your jeans before you summoned enough strength to fight back.

You shoved your hand against his face, trying to impale his eyes with your nails. But Tony ripped your hand away.

“Fucking bitch. Even now you won’t behave,” he muttered. 

He heaved you higher against the counter and pinned you there with a hand wrapped around your throat. He started squeezing, chocking precious air out of your lungs, but you kicked at him, bit your nails into his hand and clawed and fought as hard as you could when he tried prying your legs open with his knee. 

You tried crying out, but it was just whimpers making it through his tightening hand around your throat. He got frustrated enough to just break the button on your jeans, ripping the zipper down in the process. 

Then, two large hands closed on Tony’s arms.

Both of you looked up and found Ben’s steely green eyes. With a tightening of his jaw and a single upward shift of his grip, Tony’s arms broke. Bone struck through the skin, and the man screamed a horrific, blood curdling sound.

The hand wrapped around your neck released, letting you take in precious air. But that also meant you had nothing propping you up on your shaking legs.

You slumped to the floor against the kitchen island, then watched in horror as Ben grabbed the side of Tony’s face and bashed his head against the counter—over and over until his skull split open. 

Nostrils flaring, Ben took in long breaths as Tony’s mangled body fell to the floor in a bloody heap. 

Then he turned back to you. Your vision was a bit hazy as you tried to look up at him. Hot tears slipped down your cheeks as he slowly kneeled down to you, and helped you stand up. 

“Easy,” he murmured. “You’re all right.”

But you couldn’t stay on your feet. 

You made an uneasy sound, and Ben caught you when your legs couldn’t support you. You struggled to raise your head again, but you managed it.

Ben’s eyes roamed over your face and tried to discern what was happening. They held the question that he spoke out loud.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

What’s wrong. What a damn question, you thought.

Blinking, you tried your best to focus on his bearded face. 

“He tased me,” you told him through shallow breaths. 

Ben’s jaw clenched again, but all he did was nod. After a beat, he swept you up into his arms. You gasped, but he looked down at you in silent question. You nodded and relaxed against him, briefly closing your eyes. 

You wouldn’t know how that small gesture affected him as he carried you out of the kitchen. And up the stairs to the second floor, all the way to your room.

He was careful in laying you down on the bed. You were still crying, and now embarrassed for your own modesty as you grabbed a blanket and tried your best to cover yourself, your ruined shirt hanging from your shoulders and all. 

By the time you looked back over your shoulder, Ben was gone. 

However, a few minutes later there was a knock at your door. You sniffed.

“Who…” you tried to speak, despite the pain and coarseness of your voice. “Who is it?”

“Frank,” came the response. You didn’t know if you wanted him in here. 

But after a long moment, he spoke again.

“I’ve got some water for you,” he said through the door.

You licked your dry lips and tried to swallow, even though it hurt. Water, you could definitely use. 

With a sigh you said, “Come in.”

Frank entered with a bottle of water and a med kit. You eyed him warily as he dragged a chair over and sat across from you where you laid on your bed. 

“Can you sit up?” he asked. 

You weren’t entirely convinced that he was here to help you. But his brown eyes were calm and steady, and you didn’t detect a threat in them. 

“I was a paramedic before I enlisted,” he said. 

You blinked in surprise. You eventually obliged him by sitting up, but you still held the blanket around your body. Ben must’ve filled him in…and sent him to check on you. 

Tears welled up in your eyes again. Because every time you thought you had Soldier Boy figured out, the humanity of Ben surprised you. 

“Can I see where he tased you?” Frank asked. 

Though you hesitated, you opened your blanket enough for him to take a look at your bruised side. Sighing through his nose, Frank nodded. He wore medical gloves, and he raised his hands to prod at your neck.

You whimpered and leaned away from his touch. Frank slowly dropped his hands away from you. His eyes softened. 

“You asked about my family,” he said. You gave a belated nod, once you remembered that conversation from a few weeks ago. Had it only been a month since you’d gotten here?

It felt like a year. 

Frank held your gaze, and you remembered asking him. Got a family? Wife and kids?

He hadn’t answered you. You’d thought maybe there was a story there. Now you knew for sure that there was.

“I have a daughter,” said Frank. His tone held the weight of sincerity, just as his words held an underlying promise.

Your tears fell. You nodded and allowed him to finish patching you up. 

He then left you alone, saying that he would bring you something to eat in a little while. But after the door clicked shut, you allowed yourself to let go.

You mostly spent the next day in your room. Frank came by to check on you, to offer you something to eat. You took what he gave you, but you only nibbled. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to enjoy eating.

You imagined it getting clogged in your throat, as a hand wrapped around it. First Antonio’s, then your father’s hand. 

You remembered when you were thirteen years old, and you finally snapped back at him when he tried to cut down your mom again with his drunken cursing.

You remembered the dryness of his hands, one of them closing around your neck and squeezing until you saw black spots encroaching on your vision.

And your mom intervened, threw herself onto him. You held your little sister in the closet. She was far too little to understand what was going on, but she knew it was bad.

You covered her eyes, and you watched through the slits as he beat your mom within an inch of her life.

You remembered fumbling with the landline, whispering into the receiver until police sirens circled through the windows and illuminated the dim house. 

You remembered until you had to shut your eyes against memories and hot tears. 

It was another day before your room felt like a suffocating cage once again. Night had fallen, according to the TV guide, approaching midnight. 

You had to gather your courage, but you got dressed into one of your new plain shirts and jeans (which Ben had bought you, you were reminded).

When your stomach growled, you frowned. You hadn’t been able to keep much down for the past couple of days. Sighing, you reached a hand for the doorknob.

Your fingers hesitated on the brass, but you remembered something Louisa told you the day she graduated from high school. 

You hugged her tight with the broadest grin and kissed her cheek. With tears in your eyes, you held up her hand, which held a diploma with honors. 

She had a chance to go to college—something you hadn’t had. But you were going to make sure she did.

“You’re a rockstar, Lou. I’m so damn proud of you,” you said. She laughed and wiped a tear from your cheek. 

“It’s only because of you,” she said. “You’re a rock, sis. Even when you’re not.”

Your sister was a smart little shit, wise beyond her years. And that had stuck with you ever since. 

You’re a rock. Even when you’re not.

Even when that insidious voice inside whispered things. That you were weak, not strong enough, not smart enough. A burden on your family, on your friends. A disappointment. A bitch with an attitude and not much else. 

But you sucked in a shaking breath and frowned at yourself, your brows knitting together. 

No, you thought stubbornly. 

And you opened the door. 

With cautious steps you made your way downstairs. You forced yourself to keep walking, your heart rate climbing, until you reached the kitchen. 

You didn’t know what you expected, but Ben standing there and staring into the fridge was not it.

It was the first time you’d seen him dressed down, in sweatpants, a soft-looking gray shirt, and some old man loafer slippers. You couldn’t help a smile at the sight. 

Maybe he sensed a presence behind him, because he perked up and glanced over his shoulder. Finding you standing there with a small smile, if a bit awkwardly, the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. 

“Hey,” you replied with a nod, and you braved entering the kitchen. It was spotlessly clean, almost as if nothing had happened in this room.

Except for the large section missing from the kitchen counter, revealing the cement underneath. Likely it had been too damaged to be repaired and needed to just be torn out and replaced. 

Your gaze roamed across the counter to the spot where you’d been assaulted. You couldn’t help focusing on it, so long that your vision started to glaze over. 

Until you realized that Ben was slowly approaching you. He had a beer in hand, which he must’ve grabbed from the fridge. You sucked in a breath and looked up at him. 

“You’re up and about pretty late,” he remarked. 

“So are you,” you returned with an attempt at a smile. “I got hungry.”

Ben huffed in amusement. “Figures…though not gonna lie, was feeling peckish myself.”

He gestured at the fridge dismissively. “There’s not much.”

He could’ve woken up Simone, you were ready to point out. But maybe, just maybe, something you said had gotten to him. Maybe he’d wanted to just figure it out for himself, but didn’t know where to start. 

“Let me take a look,” you said instead. You went first to the pantry and took a brief inventory. “You feeling sweet or savory?”

“Savory,” he replied after a moment. He went over to the breakfast bar and sat down with his beer while you continued to rifle through.

“Hmm, how about spaghetti?” you suggested. 

Ben raised a brow. “It’s almost midnight.” 

You shot him a small grin. “So? You’re hungry, right?”

You could tell he wasn’t totally into the idea, but he shrugged. 

“All right.” 

You hummed as you gathered all the ingredients you needed. Ben watched you lay them out across from him on the counter: onions, tomato sauce, various seasonings, and more. He eyed the entire head of garlic you were getting ready to peel.

“Jesus, you tryin’ to kill a vampire or something?” he quipped. You gave him a wry look.

“Have you ever made spaghetti before?” you asked. This was as basic as it came, but the way he was looking at the vegetables told you the entire concept of peeling, cutting, and throwing them together into a pan was foreign to him. 

“Probably,” he said with a shrug. 

Meaning never, you interpreted. Ben really just had no idea how to cook, you realized. You didn’t understand how a century-old man was so lacking in everyday skills…

But maybe you did. The files neatly stored in your brain reminded you that he’d grown up a rich kid. Very rich. Then after he became Soldier Boy, he’d all too soon reached the pinnacle of fame. He’d made so much money in four decades that he’d probably never needed to do a menial task in his life.  

Maybe you could get him to try. 

However, you hadn’t realized it until now, but even after a full day, your body hadn’t fully recuperated from what you’d gone through. Maybe it was the latent stress, but you already felt tired, your body heavy.  

With a growing idea in your mind, you finished peeling and crushing the garlic and grabbed two onions. You held up one of them for his view. 

“Would you mind helping me?” you asked. 

Ben sat back in his seat, crossing his arms. 

“Do I look like Betty fucking Crocker to you?”

“Do you have to be so rude?” you clipped back. His lips twitched in amusement, until you sighed, and took a break from standing up straight to lean against the counter. Your side was starting to twinge from where you’d been tased.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked. His brows knit together, and you could almost swear you saw concern in his eyes. 

But you pressed your lips together. It really pained you to admit it, but…

“Still a bit shaky,” you said, lowering your eyes. “I…honestly don’t know if I can finish this.” 

For a moment, Ben just stared at you. 

He frowned, then made a sound of annoyance. 

“Christ,” he muttered, and finished off his beer before he stood. He took his time coming around the island to meet you. 

“Fine,” he deadpanned. “What is it you want?”

A smile grew across your face, bright and grateful. You handed him an onion. 

“Peel and chop this, please.”

You made room for him at the cutting board and gestured for him to move in there. Ben considered the onion in his hand and took the knife from you. And after a beat of hesitation, he cut the whole thing in half. 

You made a halting sound, lightly touching his wrist. “I’d peel that first if I were you.”

“I know what the fuck I’m doing,” he retorted, but you read the defensiveness in his eyes. 

Hiding an amused smile, you relented and let him do it the way he wanted. But you did notice that he started peeling off the first layer of skin before he started cutting again.

Meanwhile, you found a sauce pan in the cupboard and a pot for boiling the pasta. And the two of you fell into a strange, companionable silence while cooking together.

Until you noticed him glancing at your neck. You knew there were bruises there, still purplish, but healing. It reminded you to gather your courage for something else.

“Thank you,” you said, with difficulty. “For…for saving me.”

Ben’s gaze met yours, but all he did was nod. You’d expected him to be his usual cocky self about it. 

“Why did you do it?” you asked. He paused in his truly horrendous cutting; irregular pieces of onion were all over the cutting board, but he was still going for the second one.

Then he huffed. “Would you rather I hadn’t?”

“Be serious,” you said, before you could censure yourself. He raised a brow at you. 

“You know what?” he said. “Think what you want about me, but I’m not a fucking animal.”

His frown deepened, like he was offended at you just for asking. 

Well, fair enough.

So you let it go as the two of you cooked together. 

But as Ben was peeling the stubborn hide off the vegetable, it slipped out of his frustrated hands and rolled away. Thankfully it stopped just shy of falling off the counter. 

You couldn’t help a small giggle at his expense. He had the strength of twenty men or whatever, but he couldn’t chop an onion to save his life. 

Ben shot you a wryly amused look. “Oh, you better not be fucking laughing at me.”

That just made you laugh in earnest, even though you covered your mouth with your hand. His grin deepened at the sound, despite the embarrassment making his face and neck warm up. 

He grabbed the hateful head of veg and looked anywhere but you as he got ready to try again. There was no way he was letting you, or this fucking onion, make a fool out of him. 

But your soft hand soon covered over his. You offered him a genuine smile, your eyes gleaming.

“Want me to show you a trick I learned?” you asked. 

He hesitated, but he eventually moved over and let you in on the action. You took up the knife, held down the onion, and cut the ends off first. Then you were able to more easily peel off the rest of the outer layer. 

“You can do this part any way you want, really. But I like to cut it down the middle first, then chop up one half at a time like this,” you explained.

And you felt Ben move in closer behind you to watch your methodical work. 

The heat from his proximity actually made you start to blush like a damn school girl. You tried to stamp it down, but heat flared into your cheeks when his hand covered yours and took back the knife.

“All right, all right, I got it. Move over,” he said. You huffed, but you grinned and let him continue…

By the way his eyes later lit up when he tasted the meal, you knew he really did like your cooking. Now, you didn’t want to feed his outdated views on gender roles…but you could admit, seeing him enjoy something so simple as your grandma’s spaghetti recipe was gratifying. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d shared a decent moment with Ben. But it was the first time that it hadn’t felt like an act. You didn’t know what to do with that—or the conflicted feeling making your heart ache. 

And you certainly didn’t want to find anything about him endearing. 

AN: So first of all, sorry for all the angst and TWs in this one. But here lies the end of Tony's fuck ass. ✌🏽 And maybe she's starting to understand (and trust) Ben a bit more...

Next time: Two weeks later, Ben is getting under her skin in the worst (best) way. (AKA: the moment we've all been waiting for...)

You should’ve just pushed him away already…but his nearness was mucking up your good sense. 

The truth was, you weren’t afraid of him. Not anymore. And maybe you didn’t hate him.

Maybe…

“Well, what’s it gonna be?” he asked you.

Your lips parted, halting on a reply.

Keep Reading: PART 7

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

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[cassandracain52]

Damian Wayne has a metal spine

Ok so I’ve talked about Damian having his spine replaced three times on this page and every time I’ve gotten a surplus of people confused about when/how that happened

so in the interest of saving time, I’m going to give a brief synopsis of the entire event. (All comic panels are from comic issues Batman and Robin (2009) TBD 1 Part 2 - Batman and Robin (2009) TBD 2 Part 2) Funnily enough this happens in the same time period that Tim lost his spleen aka When Bruce Is Lost In Time

(!Warning! There will be talk of the G*nt M*rr*s*n Talia character assassination as this happens during that run)

Alright so the whole thing first starts when Damian is shot repeatedly in the back by a villain named “Flamingo” and loses the feeling in his lower body

Because Damian is paralyzed, Dick and Alfred take him back to his mother to be treated

There is where we see Talia arranging for Damian to have his entire spine replaced by a synthetic one

The surgery works but Damian still can’t walk for a few weeks

Oh and I can’t forget to mention that before Alfred and Damian leave, Talia has this lovely conversation-

Here she very clearly vocalizes that since Bruce is dead, Damian has no reason to stay in Gotham and that she wants him to come back home.

Damian refuses to be a weapon used against the Bats and Talia -very suspiciously might I add- just lets him leave

We later find out the reason she didn’t put up much fight to keep Damian in her care was actually because his new spine was laced with tiny machines that allowed for someone to merge with his nervous system and control his actions

of course we find this out when Damian appears to randomly attempt to murder Dick for no apparent reason

Talia then gives control over Damian to Slade -freakin’- Wilson. Arguably the worst possible person to give this control to right below Ra’s Al Ghul himself

Slade to absolutely no one’s surprise, appears to have agreed to this strictly so he can try to kill Dick. Dick ends up figuring out that it’s Slade (after the man makes Damian yell “SlaDe” in a truly brilliant reveal) and thinks of a way to free Damian

Unfortunately his solution is to shock the crap out of Damian’s nervous system because -and I quote- “Your heart can take it, but his?”

He proceeds to more or less give this poor kid electro shock therapy and zap Slade into releasing his hold on Damian. (No hate to Dick it was a time sensitive situation but yikes Damian can’t catch a break)

It works and the connection between Damian and Slade is severed. (Yay??? I guess??)

Batman and Robin then return to the cave where Damian promptly declares he needs to see his Mother right now and Dick agrees but comes with him

Dick quickly finds the machine that they had been using to control Damian and promptly smashes it to pieces. (As he should)

Damian however goes straight to Talia to talk about her -ya know- putting a bunch of robots in his back

the conversation goes as well as you’d expect it to and Talia then reveals that “Oh btw, I’m growing another Damian cause you’re flawed”

She also offers Damian one last chance to reconsider and come back to the League.

Because he’s not completely crazy Damian of course refuses which prompts Talia to do this-

Just straight up disowns Damian right there.

This then starts everything to do with Heretic and all that and Damian’s eventual death (G*nt M*rrs*s*n you are truly my biggest opp)

But that’s not important here, what’s important is that while it can no longer be used to control him, Damian still has the metal spine!

Hope this cleared things up for anyone who was confused/didn’t know about it!🖤

[lostfirefly]

If you sit down with this old clown, take that frown and break it, before the evening's gone away, I think that we could make it

I probably won’t surprise anyone, but the idea came to me in a dream. In it, two girls were sitting at a bar and one of them wanted to meet Buggy (I'm serious!). So welcome to another dream! :) English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Buggy and F/GN Reader - Masterlist is here.

Description: Your sister took you to a bar so she could meet someone. She saw Buggy, but he clearly showed interest in you.

Warnings: Nerd people are mentioned here. I have nothing against people who are passionate about something. The basis is the reaction of people who do not understand other people's hobbies.

Words: 1815

Taglist: @gingernut1314, @operationroots

The title is taken from “I Hope That I Don't Fall in Love With You” by Tom Waits.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

GIF by vinnymauro

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Why did you bring me here?” You twirled a glass of wine in your hands. 

“Well, because I'm tired of being alone. It's time to get back into the game after we broke up with that asshole.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and scanned the entire room with her eyes. “There are no decent candidates yet.”

“That's all very nice to hear, but why do you need me here?” You took a sip of wine and snacked on cheese. 

“I’m afraid I need a co-pilot, Y/N.” Your sister chuckled and scratched her nose.

“We've been sitting here for two hours and the only options that have come to us are those pot-bellied weirdos over there.” You carefully pointed your little finger at the table where a group of chubby guys in glasses sat, endlessly discussing aliens and yeties. 

“They’re not that weird.” Your sister tilted her head slightly. 

“Not weird? Seriously? One of them came up wearing a t-shirt with the inscription that said “take a ride on my flying saucer.” You laughed. “Sorry, but I didn't sign up for a such kind of date.”

“Well, if there are no other options, I'll choose the one with the Bigfoot t-shirt.” Your sister shrugged and opened new bottle of wine. 

“I'll hope he's not as hairy as his pet on his clothes.” You giggled and poured some wine into your glass. 

“You're such a bitch.” Your sister shook her head and took a piece of cheese.  

Suddenly a loud laughter echoed through the bar. Everyone sitting in the bar instantly turned towards the sound.

“Lord, who is laughing so hard?” You turned around, craning your head. “Apparently that tall guy at the bar.”

“Wow! He’s cute! Why didn't we notice him before?!!” Your sister looked in the same direction. 

“Seriously? Are you sure we're looking at the same guy? Blue hair, red nose, makeup on his face.” You nodded your face towards the guy sitting at the counter. His laughter seemed to shake the walls of the entire establishment.

“Yes. He’s cute!” Your sister kicked your leg under the table. “Go and find out from him whether he’s sitting here with someone or alone.” 

“Why me?” You look at her.  

“You're my co-pilot, Y/N. Or do you want me to start playing the poor abandoned girl card.” Your sister made a sad face. “I might even cry.”

“Okay!” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck. Why is it always me?” 

You muttered under your breath, took a glass, stood up and headed towards. You cleared your throat and gently patted the blue-haired man on the shoulder. “Hey, you. Hello!”  

“What?” He turned sharply and looked you with his green eyes up and down. 

“Nothing. My sister liked you.” You took a sip, realizing that you had said something stupid.

“And what?” The man look at you questionably. 

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Go up to her and say hello like all normal people.” 

“No! I’m busy!” He turned around and poured some whiskey. 

“You’re busy? How? What are you doing? You just sit and drink.” You threw up your hands.

“It's called being busy, brownie! Do you see?” He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, grinned and poured himself a glass of whiskey in one gulp. “So, sorry, my love.” 

“Fuck you! Asshole!” You returned to the table, sat down and groaned. 

“So? Will he come? Y/N, please, say he'll come!” Your sister looked at you with hope. “He's so cool when he grumbles.” She smiled slightly.

“No, he won’t. He’s kind of strange, to be honest. He’s sitting there alone, and by the way, he wears more makeup than you and me combined.” You leaned your elbows on the back of the chair and looked towards the bar counter again.

“Y/N, go and ask what he is doing? Maybe he will come..” Your sister took another sip of wine, looked at you with pleading eyes and lightly tapped her palms on the table.

“Why me? You liked him, so you go! You made a hand gesture, sending your sister to the bar.

“I’m shy.” She stared at the table and began to move her finger along the glass. “You’re better at talking than me. Y/N, plee-e-e-a-a-ase!” 

“Why do I always fall for this? Okay! Site here.” You groaned, stood and came to the bar counter. 

You tapped the man on the shoulder. “Hey, you! Hello again!”

“You again?” He looked at you, and it seemed to you for a second that he was glad to see you. “Now what?” 

“Yeah, me. Well... My sister… My sister is still sitting there.” You carefully pointed towards your table. “And still likes you.” 

“And my question is still, “so what?” The man turned to you. 

“Listen, are you always such a rude person?” You squinted your eyes and took a sip. 

“Great!” He laughed loudly. “Your sister is sending you to me, and I’m the rude one in this situation!” 

“Look, okay, I admit it. I'm not very good at being a co-pilot. To be honest, I have no idea how to do this correctly.” Your chuckled. 

“That's noticeable, brownie!” He flicked your nose and winked.

“Is it difficult for you to spare 5 minutes with us? Say hello, say a joke and then say goodbye. Her boyfriend dumped her, by the way. And for some strange reason she liked you.” You softened your voice.  

“Still my answer is no!” The man turned back to the bar.

“Ass!” You muttered under your breath and was about to come back to your sit.  

“Hey, wait!” The man shouted at you. “What's the name?” 

“Whose name? Sister?”

“No! Your. What's your name?” He looked at you and took a sip. 

“Y/N. And you?” You squinted one eye.  

“Buggy.”  

“Well, hi, Buggy.” You smiled slightly. 

“Well, hi, Y/N.” He winked at you again.  

“Won't you come over?” You nodded again towards the table.

“Sorry, brownie, no!” Buggy shook his head and laughed again.  

“Okay!” You exhaled. “Enjoy your drink!”

You returned to the table and shrugged. “I'm a lousy co-pilot, sister. He won't co~.” 

"So, girls.” Suddenly, a white-gloved hand slammed a bottle of whiskey onto the table. “Are we relaxing?" 

“YES!!!” Your sister shouted happily, and immediately covered her mouth with her hand, not expecting such volume from herself. 

“Yes. Relaxing.” You looked at Buggy and quietly whispered “thank you”.

Buggy winked at you again. “I thought I'd rather keep you company than these weirdos in weird t-shirts.” He placed his hand on the back of your chair. “And I’m Buggy, by the way. So. What are you talking about?” 

“About various things.” Your sister said, started twirling her hair on her finger. 

“Come on, brownie... and... well.. brownie’s sister, tell me about yourselves.” Buggy poured himself a glass of whiskey and gently placed his hand on your back. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye and smiled slightly. 

“Oh, I work at the police station.” Your sister took a sip of the wine without taking her eyes off Buggy. “Well, you know. Administrator. I register cases and everything.”

“Sounds good. What about you, brownie?” Buggy moved his hand over your back a little lower. 

“Nothing to tell, to be honest. I just quit my two jobs, and now I’m celebrating my freedom.” You blushed a little, feeling his hand started stroking your back. 

He took the bottle, turned it over in his hands and smelled it. “You can't celebrate by drinking some crap.” Buggy called the waiter and ordered another bottle of wine. He placed your open bottle on the weirdo’s table. “Guys, this is for you. The best wine in this bar. Enjoy your evening.”  

Buggy chuckled strangely, sat down and moved his chair closer to you. You could smell him, smelling like a mixture of rum and whiskey, and musk.

“Okay, okay.” You glanced at him. “You asked about us. It's our turn! Tell me, what do you do in life?” 

“Me?” He looked at you, pointing his finger at himself. “You don't know who I am?” 

“Sorry, Buggy.” You took his bottle of whiskey and poured some into your glass, squinting your eyes. “But I have no idea who you are.” 

“Na-ah! First, that's my bottle. And I'm gonna get it back.” He smirked and took the bottle from your hands. “Y/N! My brownie, I'm the genius and famous Buggy the Clown!” 

You drank whiskey and choked. “Fuck, it's strong.” You wiped your lips. “Who are you? The clown? From the circus? From the real circus?” You slightly turned your body towards him.

“The realest and greatest circus in the world!” Buggy placed his hand on your waist.  

“So what?” Your sister asked and ran her foot along his leg. “Do you have acrobats, jugglers and mimes there?” 

“Exactly, brownie’s sisters!” Buggy pointed his glass at her. “The best acrobats, the best mimes, the best jugglers! You should go to my show. Especially you, brownie!” He flicked your nose.

“Me?” You tried not to notice his hand on your waist. “Why me? Sorry, Buggy the Clown, I don't like circuses!” 

“You just weren't in my circus, baby!” Buggy winked at you and slowly moved his hand to your hip. 

“Damn, I'm out of whiskey. Waiter. Hey! Are they deaf or something? I'll be right back. Brownie.” He stood up and winked at you. “And.. brownie's sister.”

“How do you do it, Y/N?” Your sister laughed, taking a sip of her wine.

“What am I doing?” You raised one eyebrow.

“I noticed the guy, and he will leave with you. Probably.” Your sister leaned back in her chair and looked around.

“He seems okay. He's even cute.” You shrugged your shoulders and glanced at Buggy, who was actively gesticulating and laughing at the bar counter. “Or maybe he’s flirting with everyone like that.”

"No way! He liked you!" Your sister stuck her tongue out at you.

“Sorry...” You answered sadly.

“Oh, fuck it. He's yours. I'll go meet the yeti.” Your sister took the glass and went to the next table.

“Hey! Where is your sister?” Buggy asked in surprise as he came back.

“She went to see that dude who's wearing a yeti t-shirt. Why are you asking? Miss her?” You immediately straightened your hair, placed your hand on the table and rested your chin on your palm.

“No, brownie. I miss you already.” Buggy plopped down next to you and moved his face close to yours. “So, what are your plans for today?” He stroked your shoulder with his fingers.

You moved even closer to his face and winked. “Buggy the Clown, it seems like you promised to show me your circus. But first…” You carefully ran your finger along his leg. “You will buy me a brownie.”

[agendabymooner]

she's beauty, she's grace ! sergio 'checo' p. x ofc (miss philippines!ofc)

summary: the red bull driver sergio perez has married a long-time fan - who also happened to be the miss universe 2018 winner AND the mother to his two kids, carmella 'mella' ayala.

content warning: possible use of explicit language, established relationship, miss universe!ofc, fluff, dad!checo and mom!ofc, mentions checo and his proud bf moment, video clips + tweets and posts, what is proper grammar, mentions of characters from jenson button x ofc work and seb vettel x ofc piece (no storyline involved)

note: i used this face claim because i was one of those people that were screaming "PHILIPPINES" at the tv hoping that catriona gray would win. don't ask me why i made a checo one. there's something about that man that had my internals screaming for a moment so i've been at this thing for HOURS. i should probably update my masterlist soon before i start packing my shit and going 😭🤠 enjoy xx

masterlist

MISS U(niverse), CHECO ❤️ | MELLA TALKS ABOUT BEING CELEBRATED IN MEXICO BY HER BOYFRIEND'S FAMILY | CARMELLA AYALA HOMECOMING 2019 w/ VICE GANDA by abscbn

HOST: VICE (GANDA) GUEST: CARMELLA AYALA

[translation: mi rana pequeño = my little frog]

tagged schecoperez

liked by carlossainzjr, danielricciardo, christianhorner

user1 my little frog 😭

user2 WHICH ONE IS A HARRIE?!

carmayalaprz bitzy but he's at the hotel rn 😅 he's taking a break from chiquito

user2 even froggys need a break too 😩🙌

schecoperez what do you mean mr. bitzy's at the hotel 🧐

carmayalaprz what do you mean by that love? 😄😊

schecoperez 😊

maxverstappen1 uh oh. i wouldn't play this game with carma if i were you checo 🤔

redbullracing i agree with max on this one

christianhorner i don't really mind being introduced to bopit and bitzy every time 😕 liked by carmayalaprz

carmayalaprz i hope gp's the same because there's gonna be a lot of that soon 😅

danielricciardo how much plushies does he have for the trip rn?

carmayalaprz without cece's? about seven. apparently the whole pack either come or be left at home but we all know the chances of one being left alone in the cold dark place

danielricciardo i can barely imagine ribb being left alone at home- can you just imagine that poor frog crying for his friend?

carmayalaprz i can never 😔

tagged schecoperez, artsforyouth, artsforkids

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, adaabbott

adaabbott ah yes! the efficient cardboard crafting camp! my favourite activities yet! liked by carmayalaprz

carmayalaprz i had my biggest proud wife and mom moment just watching serg and silas make those houses 🥰

adaabbott haha! i can imagine! poppet and jens definitely tried their best working together!

user1 silas and sergio perez are the most iconic duo since sebastian and michael 😍

user2 i love how hands-on you and checo are when it comes to your little ones!

carmayalaprz thank you so much! us parents are trying despite the busy schedules, you know? 💖

danielricciardo i hope you guys brought earplugs. god knows how much of a screamer silas is 😭

schecoperez daniel for the last time he didn't intentionally try to break your eardrums 🤠

carmayalaprz try babysitting them, you'll get used to it eventually

danielricciardo maybe next time, yes?

user3 danny would probably add more to the noise if anything ngl 😭

schecoperez am i ever glad to take your and silas' attentions away from the stupid frogs 😄 liked by carmayalaprz

carmayalaprz don't say that about those frogs 🤠 i was shedding blood and tears swiping my card after passing by that store

schecoperez maybe next time let's not go to a mall with a build a bear store 🤔

carmayalaprz i agree. we might have pavlov'd our son with the build-a-bear stores we come across to

maxverstappen1 so i should return the froggy i bought him then...?

redbullracing you know the right answer to that max.

the perez kids

silas milo ayala perez

cecilia morgana ayala perez

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter One: A New Friend, A New Enemy

The Pariahs That Saved The World (Masterlist)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: mentions of death, canon descriptions (vecna's curse)

[A/N: Thank you to everyone who seems really excited about this! I am going to try and post for this one weekly, just so I have enough time between uni and work to write new chapters :) This one is a little long, but I needed to set up Reader's character a little more so enjoy!]

The Introduction <-

A New Friend, A New Enemy

“Y/n!”

You slip off your headphones and greet your grandmother with a smile, laughing when she squeezed you tight. It had been almost 8 months since you watched her wave her hand of farewell in the rear view mirror. You had missed her the most, you think. Her warm hugs, her calming perfume, the way she cared for you.

“Come on, I’ve made us some lunch.” She hurries you inside and you laugh again.

“I need to grab the rest of my things, first.” You shake your head in amusement, escaping her clutches and darting back to the taxi, thanking the man for pulling out your luggage.

Just as you hitch your duffel bag over your shoulder, your eyes catch something familiar a few houses down. A worn out and beaten Chevrolet sat abandoned outside of its former resident’s house, a white piece of paper resembling a ticket you had seen when the mechanics would return your property if not claimed. You could just make out the ‘for sale’ sign driven into the mud, your heart wrenching. You had hoped your return would be free from unwanted memories. That obviously didn’t exist in Hawkins.

“So, tell me everything. How’s Stanford?” Gran rushes through with excitement just as your feet are barely inside the door. “Oh, we are so proud of you, honey. Our little star, a Stanford journalist!”

“Gran, you know it’s only my first year, I haven’t even managed to write anything let alone publish it.” You say, following her with your bags. She was leading you up to the guest room. Well, technically, it was your room. You had never really accepted that.

“Oh, did you notice the Hargroves house is for sale?” She whispers out like an unspeakable secret, and you dump your bags on the floor.

“Yeah, I saw.” You try to remain emotionless, rolling your shoulder until the usual ache faded. You were used to it now, the muscles flaring up every now and then.

“Apparently- now, you didn’t hear it from me…” She starts to lean in and you suppress a smile. Your grandmother, the gossiper. “Apparently, the husband just took off.”

“What?” You suddenly gain interest, frowning.

“Oh, yeah. The end of last summer.” She nods knowingly. “Must have been hard for them after their son died. It was a tragedy. And that poor girl… Andrea down the road told me she and the mother were forced to move into the trailer park down by Kerley. Not fit for a child, if you ask me.”

“They obviously couldn’t afford anywhere else.” You say, mostly to yourself, and Gran simply hums in agreement.

“Oh, which reminds me, Melanie, the one with the bird nest hair, she…”

She begins rambling once again about the neighbourhood, obviously pleased to have her granddaughter back so she can share the gossip. You listened intently, nodding when you needed to, offering your own remarks when prompted. You loved your Gran. The thought of her being alone in this house affected you more than you realise.

The real reason you were back wasn’t because you had missed Hawkins. In fact, you were set on your Spring Break exploring Stanford and all it had to offer. But about two months ago, your grandad was omitted to the hospital and a week later, he was no longer with you. Your Gran had shared how his health had been deteriorating for a while now, that they had expected it sooner or later. So, in the end, it wasn’t a surprise. It didn’t make it any less sad.

“Should I be expecting guests for dinner?” She asks and you blink, frowning.

“Guests?”

“Your friends.” She reiterates, already busying her hands by pulling out your already folded clothes from your suitcase and refolding them how she liked it. “I assume everyone will be anxious to see you. It’s been eight months, hasn’t it?”

“Uh…” You purse your lips, shrugging. “I don’t know, I thought it could just be the two of us tonight.”

Gran gently places down a sweater and eyes you suspiciously. “So, you’ll be seeing them tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” You give off the first vague answer in your head, fiddling with the sleeves of your jacket and sitting down on the plush bedding behind you.

“Hm.” She sounds, sliding shut the first drawer before she silently walks around the bed and sits beside you. “You won’t be seeing them, will you?”

It wasn’t a question. You lift your eyes to meet hers and sigh.

“We aren’t as close as we were before, Gran. It’s… complicated.” You decide and she takes your hand in hers.

“You’ve known them since you were just a little sprout.” She ruffles your hair and you cringe, laughing and batting her hand away. “I’m sure whatever happened can’t be so complicated that you can’t… I don’t know, catch up over coffee? Or whatever you kids are doing these days.”

“I wish it was like that.” You say, and you meant it. After a moment, she seems to understand that you didn’t want to continue this particular conversation and she stands, brushing her outfit back into simple perfection.

“Well, sandwiches, anyone?” She offers and you grin, nodding.

The day before you left for Stanford, you were contemplating whether or not it was the right choice. Gran was right, you have known them since you were a kid. But last summer changed all of that. You weren’t sure you could see their faces ever again.

So, rather than try and find them, you decided to spend the next day unpacking. You’d be here for a month so it made sense to have everything neat and tidy. It was just until the funeral, and then you’d be back at college and studying away any memory of Hawkins being your home. Because it wasn’t. Not anymore.

You can hear the distant ring of the phone echoing up the stairs, continuing to pull out your books. You might as well be caught up with your classes if you were going to spend all your time inside.

“Y/n!” Gran calls up and you push away from the desk to lean over the banister.

“Yeah?” You ask as she stares up at you, the phone in her left hand while the right covered the receiver.

“It’s your friend.” She says with a small smile and your face drops into a frown. “She says it’s urgent.”

“Uh…” You shake your head. Who would be calling you? “Yeah, I’ll be down in a sec.”

Gran nods and relays the information, setting the phone on the side table and disappearing back into the kitchen.

Your footsteps were wary as you descend the staircase, eyes set on the white object beside one of your grandmother’s vases. There was a hauntingly familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through your body, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. Once you reach the table, you shift your focus to the photo frame. It was small, a collected memory from a few years ago now. You were stood there smiling, the camera capturing you in pleasant surprise when a brunette girl behind you had jumped onto your back. It made your eyes sting, and you knew you had to make the decision to answer the call.

Hesitantly picking up the phone, you hold it to your ear and close your eyes.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?” Nancy’s voice blares through and your eyes snap back open.

Barrels of apologies and excuses spewed from her lips and you stand in silent shock, clutching the receiver a little too tight. She could only be calling for one reason. You had known it before you had even answered the phone.

Something was happening in Hawkins. Again. And if Nancy was calling for help, then she truly needed it.

And you’d never let her down.

“Have we met before?” You ask, studying the girl stood next to you.

The walls of the archive were surprisingly bright, shining an iridescent hue on her dark blonde locks. Her blue eyes were blinking back at you, pink lips stuck in a soft pucker of indecision. She was pretty. Really pretty. And at the same time she looked effortlessly cool, a jacket you wished you own. Something about her felt familiar to you, drawing you in.

Then a pang of guilt hits you and you force your concentration on waiting for her answer.

Robin felt weak. Who were you? It was taking everything in her to open her mouth and speak which, as literally everyone knew, was incredibly unlike her.

“I don’t think so.” Robin finally breathes out. There was softness in the way you spoke to her too, calming her nerves. Those strange waves of anxiety were being taken with the tide like you were her lighthouse in the stormy sea of her mind.

“Oh.” You scrunch your face with a smile. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

She was surprised to see you put out your hand but she willingly shakes it anyway, smiling back.

When you pull away, Robin seems a little more comfortable, coming closer to peer down at your old project folder, reading along with Nancy. You tried not to stare, busying your eyes with your own work in Nancy’s hands.

“Anything… juicy over there?” Robin asks Nancy and the girl throws her a tight lipped smile.

“Nothing new yet.” She responds and you notice the strain in her voice. She adopted it any time she was struggling to enjoy somebody’s presence.

“Victor seemed like a normal guy. Dead family, missing eyes, took a plea deal, sent to Pennhurst. Blah, blah, blah, blah.” Robin utters as she skims over the page below, slowly raising her head to look at Nancy. “What are we looking for exactly?”

Nancy doesn’t respond and continues flicking through the pages, making Robin’s eyes widen.

“Nance?” She tries again and you frown.

“She’s focused.” You offer, smiling. “She zones in so much that she zones out sometimes.”

“Right.” She nods slowly, still staring at her. “Um, so are we, uh… looking for any mentions of dark wizards or alternate dimensions? Things in that vein?”

You remember something and open your mouth to speak before Nancy interrupts with a huff.

“I don’t know, okay?” She sighs loudly, leaning against the desk and meeting Robin’s eyes. “It’s starting to seem like this was just a big waste of time. And you’re obviously bored so why don’t you just call Steve? I’m sure he’ll come pick you up. And I mean, I’m not really in danger here, so…”

With that, she walks away from the table and grabs another folder you had brought, furiously flipping through as she travels down a different staircase to the filing room. Your eyebrows raise.

“Woah.” You simply say, noticing Robin’s frown. “She’s, uh… hell, I don’t even know. Nance gets ultra focused when she thinks she has a lead on something and, well… she doesn’t like to get it wrong. Which is understandable.”

“So, she acts like this with other people?” She asks and you tighten your lips.

“Um…”

“Okay, that’s a no.” Robin groans, dragging her hands down her face. “I’m trying, I really am, I just struggle with whatever the hell bonding is meant to be, I mean me and Steve literally only bonded because we were both getting tortured and thought we would die. Which, no, not an ideal way to start a friendship but you know what, it’s better than whatever the hell this is.”

“You were at Starcourt?” You frown and she looks back at you, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up-”

“No, no, it’s okay.” She waves her hands, “I, um… no one really mentions it anymore. Unless it’s the news and they’re pretending like it was a-”

“Fire, yeah. I heard.” You say, staring at the stairs Nancy descended. “How did all of this start?”

“Excuse me?” She blinks and you turn your attention back to her.

“This… Vecna, was it? How did it start?” You repeat, shaking your head. “Nancy could only tell me so much over the phone so I’m a little behind.”

“A girl was found dead in the trailer park.” Robin relays, gulping. “Chrissy Cunningham? She’s a cheerleader. Was. They found her with all her bones snapped and her eyes were… gone. They think Eddie Munson did it-”

“Eddie?” You gasp, and Robin looks surprised. “No, Eddie wouldn’t do that-”

“We know. Trust me.” She says hurriedly, “He told us everything that happened. Apparently she was floating in the air and her bones were snapping- it’s a really gruesome story but the same thing, like, just happened to Fred and we need to figure out who this Vecna is before someone else gets hurt.”

“Okay.” You breathe and she raises her brow.

“Okay? I just unloaded a dump of hell onto you, and it’s okay?” She sounded intrigued and you shrug.

“The last few years have been… weird. To the point where weird sounds normal now.” You say, a soft frown on your features.

Robin wasn’t entirely sure where you fit into all of this. Sure, you had information they needed, you’ve been a part of their group for some time, you made sense. What she was struggling to understand is why you were here now. And why you weren’t here before.

“How’d you meet everyone?” You ask before she can. Any thought she had of questioning your arrival was cleverly misplaced. For the moment.

“I worked with Steve at Scoops Ahoy last year.” Robin nods and you frown.

“But I never…” You start before your eyes widen, mouth curling into a smile. “Oh my god, yes! I do remember you!”

“You do?” Robin tries to comb back through her memories.

“Yeah, Max dragged me there maybe… a week after it opened? She was telling me about Steve’s little sailor outfit and of course, I didn’t believe her, so she had to show me proof.” You giggle to yourself, meeting her eyes. “I remember you were taking a break outside, Max introduced us. Well, kind of. She never got to my name before Steve arrived with that stupid frown on his face.”

“I don’t remember that.” She frowns and you bite your lip, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets. “Sorry, I don’t mean that in like, a mean girl way. I mean, my memory is apparently broken because I’m very sure I would have remembered you. Not in a weird way, either, like- I just think you make an impression on people- a good one. Not a bad one.”

“It’s okay.” You laugh and she shakes her head enough to make her bangs sway in her embarrassment. “I looked a lot different then. And I was, like, super shy. I was probably hiding my face or something.”

“Hold on.” She blinks with a smirk. “You’re the girl? Like, the girl?”

“Am I meant to know what that means?” You squint your eyes.

Robin simply laughs to herself until she clocks your confusion. “No, I… Max did bring someone in for, like, one of our first ever shifts together. I remember because when they left, Steve looked like some kicked puppy and I couldn’t work with him and that stupid frown so I made him tell me what was bothering him. Apparently, the girl that left was the girl he couldn’t get in high school and it ‘haunts’ him. It’s so stupid.”

You go quiet and her eyes widen.

“Oh god.” She covers her mouth. “Did I talk too much again? God, I’m sorry- I literally can’t control my mouth.”

“No, you’re right.” You say, shaking your head. “Steve… he and I don’t really get along. Opposite ends of the high school popularity pool until I won this debate contest and suddenly everyone wanted to be my friend. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but suddenly I was on Steve’s radar and, well, you know the rest.”

“You can do better.” She simply nods and you raise your eyebrow at her remark. “What? Oh, he’s amazing now. Like, a genuine gentleman kind of guy, but King Steve? Whew, that boy needed a leash or something.”

“You guys are pretty close, huh?” You ask and she smiles.

“Yeah, he’s my best…” She begins before her face drops. Oh.

“What?” You ask when she starts walking away.

“I know why!” She exclaims before turning her heel and marching down those steps to Nancy, finding her sorting through the filing cabinet.

If Nancy heard her, she didn’t acknowledge it. Robin felt so stupid. It had been a while since she’d been a part of ‘girl world’ or, more specifically, ‘girl-code world’. The thought of there being any tension hadn’t even crossed her mind before.

“You do know that Steve and I are, like, totally not a thing, right?” Robin asks breathlessly, leaning against the wooden banister.

“What?” Nancy frowns, shaking her head and turning to look over her shoulder.

“So I figure that you and Jonathan are still going strong ‘cause you guys are going to college together, and you’re like one of those unstoppable power couples, but I… I just… I wanted to make sure that you knew that Steve and I are just friends. Like, platonic with a capital P.”

Nancy’s response in underwhelming at best, a tight lipped smile and Robin almost groans in frustration. She can hear your sneakers steadily descend the stairs and she turns back.

“Just in case that’s adding any tension between us.” She expresses to Nancy and you frown at the interaction.

“It wasn’t.” Nancy replies and Robin sighs.

“Uh…” You start to say, both pairs of eyes immediately looking at you. “Sorry to, um, interrupt. I have stuff I need to do…”

“Right.” Nancy blinks apologetically, looking back at the folder in her hands. “I’m so sorry, I really thought I was going to find something. I… I didn’t want to drag you into this, really, it’s just-”

“Hawkins.” You finish her sentence, stepping off the final stair and leaning against the banister. “Yeah, I know.”

“Holy shit.” Robin gasps, suddenly grabbing the folder out of Nancy’s hands despite her silent protest. “Is that from The Weekly Watcher?”

She points to a specific part of one of the tabs and you move to peer over her shoulder, nodding.

“Don’t they write about, like, Bigfoot and UFOs?” Nancy scoffs, already dismissing the idea.

“First of all, UFOs are absolutely real. Bigfoot I’m still on the fence about.” She comments and you hum agreement. “But may I remind you we are looking for information on dark wizards? If someone’s gonna write about that, it’s gonna be these weirdos.”

“She’s not wrong.” You add and Nancy’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Yeah, there’s a whole article about Victor Creel. He claimed that a vengeful demon killed his family. Obviously I only added a reference for context, I never actually believed it. You know, before…”

You vaguely gesture the space around you and Robin flips the page over.

“According to several insiders, Victor believed his house was haunted by an ancient demon.” Robin read aloud, and you could feel the goosebumps prickle along your skin. “Victor allegedly hired a priest to exorcise the demon from his home- pretty novel for the 50s, Exorcistwasn’t even out yet.”

“Keep- keep going.” Nancy insisted and Robin frowns.

“That’s all that’s here.” She says and Nancy looks at you.

“He claimed that the exorcism failed.” You recall, staring at the cut out photo of the Creel Family. “He said it angered the demon. It murdered his family, removing their eyes.”

“Did it say why he wasn’t killed?” Robin questions.

“Victor believed he was spared as a punishment.” You say with a twist in your stomach. His whole family died. He was all alone.

“Yeah, that’s pretty convenient for Victor.” Nancy mumbles and Robin frowns.

“Yeah, or super inconvenient.” She challenges, her eyes looking at yours for support. You simply nod, feeling sick. “Victor was declared legally insane by the court, right? Well, what if this is why? I mean, it sounds pretty insane, it just didn’t go public because-”

“The plea bargain.” Nancy jumps in, and you can see her trying to slot all the pieces together, “The records were sealed.”

“What if a demon did invade Victor’s home.” Robin glances between you both. “It’s just, this demon wasn’t any old demon.”

“It was Vecna.” Nancy finishes, and you immediately start shaking your head.

“Okay, you guys got everything you need?” You quickly rush out, sorting the folder around so it would shut. “Actually, you know what, you guys can just keep that, I need to-”

“You’re leaving?” Nancy frowns, following you as you jog back up the stairs and to where you had dumped your bag before. Robin hurriedly grabbed your folder and followed suit.

“Yeah, I told you, I have stuff to do.” You mutter an excuse, slipping your bag over your shoulder.

“But what about-”

“No, Nance.” You suddenly say, much stricter than you intended it to be. You pause your steps, taking a deep breath to look her in the eye. “I hate that there’s something new terrorising Hawkins. And I’m sorry you have to deal with it. I am. But that’s your choice. I can’t do this again.”

Robin stood there, clutching your folder to her chest. Nancy was struggling with her words, and you didn’t look like you were going to stick around long enough to hear them.

“We need you.” Robin blurts and you look at her, frowning. “I’m sorry, but we do. You know more about this case than any of us, you dedicated, what, a whole month? Maybe more? To learn about the Creel House, about the murders. You have information we can’t possible find because Hawkins doesn’t like to keep around its records of murder, and- and Nancy said you were great at this detective stuff which basically means you know what we need to do next.”

Rather than respond, you start weighing your options. The best decision you ever made was leaving all of this behind. Stanford had everything you wanted; hope. Anytime you decided to help them, it was always your life you were risking. That they were risking. Why would this time be any different?

“I really hope you win this.” You finally say, offering half a smile before you push through those doors and don’t look back, disappearing into the darkening shadows outside.

“Damn it.” Nancy curses, resting a hand on her hip and the other on a table.

“What happened between you guys?” Robin asks into the silence and Nancy looks up.

“What do you-”

“I don’t want a vague answer.” She says, still clutching onto the folder pressed against her chest. “She looked terrified. Which, yeah, it makes a lot of sense under normal circumstances. But this was more like PTSD kind of terrified. What the hell happened last year that no one’s telling me?”

The silence left Robin in the dark, Nancy’s features pouring over in restrained emotion.

By the time you had dug out your keys with trembling hands, you could feel the prickling of tears threaten to spill at any moment. They had no right to ask that of you. Especially not Nancy. She was there last year, she knows why you left. And yet again, none of them were listening to you.

You sat in your grandad’s old armchair for about an hour, a book resting on your lap but it remained untouched. It would just be another distraction, another reason to pretend like nothing was wrong. To stop yourself from remembering, feeling.

It’s why you went to Stanford, really. You didn’t care about journalism like you used to. But the work load was almost unbearable, which meant that every waking moment would need to be dedicated to studying. If you didn’t occupy your mind, you’d have to relive last year.

“Hi, sweetie.” Gran says as she enters the room, a shopping bag in one hand. You hadn’t even heard her key in the door. “Did you see your friends?”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat, setting aside the book and leaning forward.

“What did you kids get up to?” She asks before quickly disappearing into the kitchen to set down her groceries. When she returns, you have your head in your hands.

You can feel her fingers gently pry away your hands as she takes the chair opposite you, smiling like she already knew what was going through your head. Looking at her, the way her eyes were glazing over, you felt so selfish. You had left to escape everything that happened last year, and you had left her for months to deal with it all alone. Here you were, wallowing in self pity because your friends hadn’t been there for you when you needed them, and it turns out you’re doing the exact same thing to her.

“I’m so sorry.” You say, wiping away the tear that trickles down your cheek. “I should have stayed with you and Grandad.”

“What?” She frowns lightly, shaking her head. “Darling, no. All we ever wanted for you was to get out into the world, find something that made you happy.”

“But I’m not happy.” You express, catching a sob that threatened to escape. “I just wanted to get away, get out of Hawkins. I wasn’t even thinking about it, I- I just couldn’t…”

Her hand suddenly finds your own, squeezing it tight.

“It’s okay.” She says and you lift your head up. She continued smiling, but it was much sadder now. “No one can expect you to move on from what happened last year as quick as that.”

“And what if I never move on?”

“It’s not about moving on.” She smiles. “It’s about acceptance. It’s about holding onto the memory because you cherish it, not because you are haunted by it.”

The clock in the distance could be heard counting the seconds as you sit there in silence. She was right, as per usual. You weren’t letting yourself feel. You should be embracing the fact that you still had her. Even with all Hawkins has been through, you still had her.

Your heart pangs with panic. She was still here.

“I should be getting to bed-”

“Come with me.” You offer suddenly and she raises her eyebrows.

“To Stanford?” She says as if it were absurd.

“I’m serious. Let’s move away, start fresh. We’ll find somewhere new, Gran. Please.” You beg and she offers a smile, capturing your hand by placing another on top.

“Hawkins is my home. It always has been. I was born here, I met the love of my life here. I watched my little one grow up and, when he had little ones of their own, I watched them grow up too. This is where my family is. I… I can’t leave.”

“No, don’t worry, I’ll get it.” You say, smiling. “You should get some rest.”

Your heart wrenches. If only she knew what you did. About what really happens in Hawkins, what lurks there in the dark. She can’t stay here, not when you know it isn’t safe. Not when she’s all you have left.

Three knocks echo out from the front door, and Gran shifts in her seat, quickly glancing at the clock. Who would be here at this hour?

“Thank you.” She stands with you, squeezing your hand as she dropped it. “Try and get some rest.”

You wait until she’s heading up the stairs and out of earshot before you rush to the door, gently brushing aside the small curtain and frowning at the silhouette. It wasn’t who you had expected.

The door is open barely four inches before she starts talking at you, ring-donned hands clasped together.

“Look, I know we’ve literally just met. And I probably- no, I definitely don’t have the right to ask you to stay with us, but we’re basically alone right now. Half of us are in California, we don’t have any connections in the sheriff’s department anymore. Everyone who would know what to do is gone, and you’re kinda the only person left who can help us. I get so much happened to you last year and I- I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but if there’s even a tiny part of you that wants to do this, then please listen to it. Please.”

Robin didn’t know what she was expecting when she left the school. Her feet had taken her further than her mind was planning, but she knew she had to find you. Max was in trouble, and they were all way in over their heads to not have help. Nancy refused to bother you any further, and she understood, she really did, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance. This was bigger than all of them, bigger than everyone.

“Robin?” You say, brows scrunched together in surprise. She thins her lips.

“Sorry to just blurt that all out, but I didn’t know if you were just gonna slam the door on me- or maybe I’d forget what I wanted to say.” She explained, feeling the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you. “Max is in trouble.”

“What?” You sobered at the thought, leaning closer to her. Then, in a moment of split decision, you glance back up the stairs before stepping outside and closing the door behind you. “What happened?”

“We found a connection between all the victims.” Robin tries to explain, and you noticed how expressive she was with her hands. “Basically, Max has the same symptoms as the rest of them, and she’s, like, 100% sure she’s next of Vecna’s kill list.”

“Is she okay?” You ask, and Robin can see the desperation behind your eyes.

“Yeah. Shaken up, but she’s fine. For now.” She clears her throat, a pleading look as she stares at you. “We need to find Vecna as fast as we possibly can before he can get to her. I… I know about what happened last year. About your dad.”

You seem taken aback by her knowledge, eyes darting down to your shoes.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to leave all of this behind.” She sympathises, and she let herself be much calmer than she felt. “But I’m asking you if you’ll help us.”

Your heart was aching as you wipe your sweaty palms against your jeans, barely even feeling the cold rush of wind hitting your bare arms. You had meant what you said earlier; you couldn’t do this again. It took everything in you to move out of Hawkins, go to college and live a life the person you loved the most couldn’t do anymore.

But you were currently stood in front of a door. And behind that door, was the last person you had left, and she wasn’t planning on leaving her home any time soon. As it turned out, fleeing wasn’t an option for everyone else.

“I’ll do it.”

Robin blinks, studying you for any ounce of uncertainty. You looked deadly serious.

Maybe, just maybe, with you by their side, they were taking down Vecna after all.

taglist: @kryztalglear @officerrrfriendly @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean @spacedoutdaydreamer @em16cor @endurexxsurvive

[if you see your name highlighted in pink, it means that tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! i am trying to figure out the reasons behind this but it could be as simple as visibility settings so please check that <3]

[georgies-ftts]

my genuine thoughts and reactions watching One Piece as someone who has never consumed a different piece of One Piece media before

spoilers… obviously…

Episode 1:

thick glaswegian accent straight away you’ve won me over

this guys moustache is immaculate kinda looks like every version of captain hook ever mushed into one

i recognise the scottish guy

random guy #374’s sideburns are… definitely there

slay drop a bomb before you’re executed horribly

cracker opening theme actually 9/10 should’ve been longer

fourth wall break?

nope he’s talking to a bird

okay funky trouser man you shout into the abyss

this birds got better drip than me

‘Mutiny’ funny actually

he’s not having a good time

what the actual fuck is that ship

aldiva? love of my life?

Koby needs a fresh trim… probably… idk

love me some cheeky windmills

i recognise red hair hat man too

that kids fully gonna die

luffy is fuckin nuts

is he eating… raw??? steak???

australian pink haired harrypotter is about to shit himself

dudes about to get his shit rocked

funky hat man??? is fucking??? elastic

rope burn doesn’t exist in this universe

elastic head is genuinely fuckin horrific

but also slay

think i’m gonna like depressed green hair man

Mr 7 is wearing two ruffs….

‘My favourite is number 1’ fuck him up emotionally i like it

and then fuck him physically this is going grand actually

sword fights that are choreographed immaculately and with fluid camera movements truly do hold a very special place in my heart

oh wait is the luffy kid funky straw hat man

“your mug” yes get that slang in there

wait but luffy has a steady american accent with no twangs

purple orb i’d eat it

oh so would he apparently

what the fuck it’s green

who the fuck is red haired hat man i can’t be bothered to pull up imdb

don’t kill shanks he treats the bar staff with respect

he was in ‘fresh meat’ i found him

he’s so gonna die

i’d slap man bun guy so fuckin hard

luffy needs to like… have a nap or something

woah luffy straight in there with the insults

he had a munch and now he’s a bit bendy

now i recognise koby jesus christ

didn’t need to slap the poor guy jesus

koby is cute i like them

ginger woman floating in the sea

“sweetheart” fucking get rid of them

is she gonna fuck em up

slay queen found a new love of my life and she’s wearing funky socks

‘where’s my face?’ bruvva i could squish your cheeks like a toddler that wall is not for you

it’s green haired sword guy love him

“one for my friend” dude that is a body. in a sack.

it’s ginger sock girl, marry me

blonde british man is gonna catch these fists, sir that is a child leave her alone

lucious malfoy looking ass

yes Zoro (the subtitles are the only reason i know what’s goi-)

did he just eat that off the floor.

blonde british man is fucking terrifying

another sword fight???????

kolby you are me actually

fuck them up fuck them up fuck them up

i’m a lesbian but i do think green haired man just turned me bisexual

“my father” jesus fuckin christ they hired draco malfoy

like the rum???

jesus christ daddy’s boy needs a fuckin gag or some shit

i want Zoro’s earrings please

why does this man have a metal plate bolted into his face

“where does it even go” i think you know

koby realising not everything that’s made out to be ‘good’ is always good slay, we love a little bit of depth

i love a cgi sewer pipe

jesus chrrriiiiiiist draco malfoy is back

kick him in the balls

“when i get down” dude you are literally half on the floor already….

my wife ginger socks girl is back everything is good

she’s gone again, devastated

luffy kinda has the percy jackson cockiness yknow?

luffy 10/10 would do a phycology gcse

fucking english bastards ruining everything

it’s fine she fucked em up again

what is the grand line may i ask

her eyes are stunning

i think she just shat herself

draco malfoy needs to go what the-

that’s his bare arse

chop his dick off

please

i beg you

i think luffy just wants some friends

she’s a pickpocket too holy fuck-

“i’m never joining” yuh huh sure

why’s she searching the papers on the desk surely they would be in a draw or some shit or like a secret message or something

win for luffy

153rd marines really doesn’t sound all that threatening

so he’s like… hench as fuck too?

protect the hat luffy as you should

green haired man’s just pitched up c’mon

slay, literally and figuratively

is he wearing zebra trousers?

not where i thought the sword went…

yeaaahhh fuck him up

that kick was fucking immaculate

so green man is also fuckin hench???

oi listen to the queen

HA MALFOYS HAIR REMINDS ME OF MY WEIRD BARBIE

zoro smiled that’s it life is good

KOBY MY SON

koby no don’t

okay koby you slay love you

you keep them massive fuck off glasses safe

do they meet again? please tell my they meet again and they both live and are happy i will cry-

ooo action music my favourite kind of tv music

what the fuck is that snail and why is it also a phone

SCOTTISH MAN IS BACK

they took your mum actually

a pirate in a straw hat who’s skin is made of rubber thankyou

ooo new emo green haired man

they infact we’re not planning anything ever

that’s that one guy from agents of shield

jesus he’s fuckin creepy

oh that’s terrifying actually

FUCKIN TUNE

[hbyrde36]

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 8

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 ao3 link

*Steve*

As soon as Steve set foot back into the trailer, Eleven launched herself at him. He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, feeling the way her body shook subtly under his grip.

Shit. 

He hadn’t thought about how it would feel for her to watch him walk right out of the house after Eddie, leaving her behind with total strangers after everything they’d been through. He suspected her reaction wasn’t only about him either. Eddie meant something to her, even if he didn’t remember, and she had been so little when they’d last been together. It didn’t change the fact that she had found this person again who she’d thought was dead for so long, and then he ran away. 

“I’m so sorry, El. I didn’t even think. I just wanted to make sure he was okay.”

She shook her head as best she could, while remaining tightly pressed to his chest. “It’s okay. I’m glad you went after him. He needed you. I just got scared.”

Steve’s eyes flitted to the kitchen where Chief Hopper now sat sipping coffee with Claudia, the man having arrived while he and Eddie were outside. He was sure that the sudden appearance of a cop had spooked El too. 

Steve pulled back a little from their hug so he could look her in the eye. “Still, I'm sorry. I’ll always come back to you, no matter what happens, I promise. We’re going to be okay. We’ll keep each other safe, and we’ll keep Eddie safe too.”

“How?”

“I haven't quite figured that part out yet, kiddo, but I believe in us.”

El cracked a weak smile. “Me too.”

He walked with her back over to join Dustin on the couch. The poor kid couldn’t stop staring at her, as if he couldn’t believe she was real. 

Which was fair. 

Dustin was also practically vibrating with the need to ask questions, but when he did finally speak, it was only out of concern for his cousin. 

“Is Eddie going to be ok?” He asked.

“Yea, buddy, He’ll be okay. It’s just a lot.” Steve said, trying his best to sound reassuring. He wasn’t sure he knew Eddie well enough to make that kind of assumption, but he did know for his own part, that he would do everything he could to make it true.

Dustin nodded like he understood. “Thank you for helping him. I know how Eddie looks, and how he can come off sometimes, but he’s a lot more sensitive than people give him credit for.”

They all looked up as Eddie and his uncle reentered the trailer. Steve met Eddie's gaze for a moment over the short distance of the room. His eyes were a little bloodshot, as if he’d been crying again, and Steve wished that they could let it all be, at least for the day. 

He wanted to give Eddie a break to try to process everything that had happened so far before piling on, but Hopper was there now for whatever reason, and there was still so much that they needed to talk about. Not to mention the ever looming threat of another attack on El from One.

Eddie glared at Hopper for a moment before addressing his Uncle. “You wanna tell me what he’s doing here?”

Wayne let out a long suffering sigh. “Jim’s known about you since the beginning, son. He helped to hide you and supplied us with the paperwork and whatever else we needed to sell our story and get you enrolled in school.”

It was apparent that knowing all that didn’t change Eddie's feelings towards the man at all. He scowled as Hopper approached. Steve got the sense that there was history between the two of them, and clearly not all of it good. 

“I know you’ve never trusted me, kid.” Hopper began. “And I'm sure that’s worse now because I tried to stop you from looking for Harrington here, but you have to know now that it was all for your own good. We couldn’t risk the wrong people noticing what you were up to and accidentally putting the pieces together.”

What? 

Steve’s heart started to pound as he stared at the side of Eddie’s face. “You looked for me?” 

“Oh yeah, he broke into your old house to investigate and everything” Wayne supplied with a wink, nudging his nephew’s shoulder.

Eddie’s cheeks turned red. 

“Wayne!” He hissed, finally turning his head to look at Steve with a sheepish smile. All he could do was stare back in amazement, because Eddie had been looking for him. This sweet guy, who barely knew him, had cared enough to not only wonder what had happened, but actively tried to find out. It did occur to Steve that it might not mean anything, and could have had more to do with El and the latent powers Eddie likely had that they were yet to really speak on, but for now he chose to believe that maybe it could mean something.

Eddie’s smile fell abruptly as he gave his attention back to Hopper. ”Wait, why would looking for him have put me in danger?”

The answer came to Steve in an instant, and he couldn’t stop from blurting it out at the chief. “You knew I was at the lab.”

Hopper squeezed his eyes shut and slowly nodded, guilt coming off of him in waves. “I didn’t know right away, it was a few weeks before I put the pieces together. Ultimately it was the security footage from that diner you went to that confirmed it for me. As you can imagine, after Eddie came along I did a little digging into Hawkins Lab to try and figure out what was going on there. I didn’t get very far before I was asked by an old military contact to drop it. Actually, I was told to mind my own fucking business, or else, but I did learn a thing or two along the way about the man in charge, Dr. Brenner. I recognized him on that tape, and when I saw you two leave with him, I figured I had my answer.”

Eddie’s eyes grew dark as he got up in Hopper’s face. “You son of a bitch! You knew he was there all this time and you didn’t do anything about it?!” What kind of cop are you?!”

Without hesitation, Steve stepped between them, lightly placing his hands on the other boy’s shoulders. 

“Eddie, stop. It’s okay. He couldn’t have gotten me out of there anyway. Not without getting himself killed. You don’t know what it’s like in that place. I’m glad you don’t remember. Part of me hopes you never remember because you deserve so much better than having grown up in that hell hole. I wouldn’t have wanted him to risk exposing you, they have to know you’re out there somewhere. I know it’s been years but these people don’t give up that easily.” 

Eddie’s eyes had gone soft again as Steve spoke, but he didn’t say anything. Steve wondered briefly if he had overstepped. He didn't think so, but it was hard to tell what Eddie was thinking.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” Hopper said, drawing their attention again. “More sorry than I can say. How’d you manage to get out?”

Steve gave them all a quick but detailed description of their escape, ending with running into Eddie at Skull Rock. He hesitated to mention the attack on El, not ready to get into that quite yet. He wanted to hear more about Eddie’s dreams, and this game he and the kids had been playing first. He had a feeling that Vecna, as Eddie had called him, was Henry/One, but he couldn’t be sure so he brushed past it, saying that something had gone wrong in the lab that day. El looked at him questioningly but said nothing, and neither Eddie or Wayne brought up that none of it explained why she’d been covered in blood.

“That’s amazing!” Dustin exclaimed when it was all done. He turned to Eddie. “And you just happened to be there at Skull Rock, what are the odds! What were you doing there anyway?”

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know really, your dumb list probably put the idea in my head.”

“No, it’s gotta have something to do with your powers.”

Eddie stiffened, but tried to play it off. “Who said anything about powers?”

Dustin continued, oblivious to Eddie’s discomfort. “Well, it’s like our game, right? El can move stuff with her mind.” He said, waving a hand in the girl’s direction.

“What game?” Hopper asked, though his question went ignored.

“Yes.” El answered, raising her palm towards the coffee table and the several very breakable mugs that sat on its surface. Steve quickly reached out to push her arm down. “You don’t have to demonstrate sweetie.” He said. 

Dustin glared at Steve, betrayed at being denied the opportunity to see Eleven in action, before returning to his argument with Eddie. “How else would you have known about El and the lab? Boom! Powers.”

The kid wasn’t wrong, but his tone left something to be desired. 

“Don’t get cocky.” Eddie muttered. “It’s probably just subconscious memories or some shit.”

Steve caught Eddie’s eye and they shared a look. They both knew it wasn’t memories, but he wouldn’t push if Eddie wasn’t ready to deal with it yet. 

This kid, however, was stubborn and had no such misgivings.

“No, that doesn’t make sense. You knew about El’s escape in ‘83! That didn’t happen until way after mom…” Dustin trailed off.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas.

“Oh. My. God. Are the demogorgons real too? And demodogs? Is the whole Upside-Down real?!” His face went through a complicated series of emotions, caught for a split second between glee at the idea that the world was suddenly far more magical than he realized, and horror, because, monsters.

“Demo-whats?” Hopper asked.

Dustin flapped a hand dismissively in his direction. “The monsters from our game.”

“WHAT GAME?!” Hopper bellowed.

The room fell quiet, finally giving the Chief the attention he wanted following his outburst. 

It was Eddie who broke the silence, taking the lead to explain. “There’s a game that the boys and I play, we, uh, well, it’s hard to explain. To make a very long story short, some of the things I thought I made up for the game are apparently... real.”

Hopper looked skeptical. “Like what?” 

“Eleven, for starters.” Eddie began. “The whole thing about the lab and her escaping? That was in there. It’s like..” He paused to think, and made a waffling motion with his hand. “We blended fantasy and reality, right? So we each play a version of ourselves, and all the other non-player characters are modeled after other people.”

Eddie’s eyes flicked to Steve right before he covered his face with his hands.

“God, this is so embarrassing. If I ever thought I’d have to explain any of this to other people…”

Steve couldn't bear to see Eddie spiraling again, so he tried to be supportive. “How bad could it be?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows and Steve almost laughed at himself. It had been a morning full of bad things and big revelations, so maybe that hadn’t been the smartest thing to say. Still, he needed to know.

“It could be important, who knows what else you picked up on that might turn out to be true or real?”

“I have notes for every part of the campaign so far but...” Eddie chewed nervously on his bottom lip.

“But?” Steve prompted.

Eddie blew out a long breath. “Fuck, I guess theres no way around this. You’re all in it.”

“Including you, Steve. You're one of the main characters besides the boys and El. You have been pretty much since the beginning. I’m sorry, I know that’s weird.”

It probably shouldn't have been such a surprise, what with everything else that had gone on so far, but Steve was shocked. A warmth blossomed in his chest at the idea.

“Don’t be sorry. That’s really cool.” Steve assured him.

Eddie’s mouth dropped open.

“Wait, really?”

Steve shuffled his feet, hoping that it didn’t show on his face just how pleased he was to know that Eddie had spent a significant part of the past two years thinking about and creating something that involved him.

“Yeah, it’s sort of flattering actually.”

Eddie grinned shyly and Steve couldn’t look away. 

Wayne loudly cleared his throat. “As sweet as this is to watch, boys, maybe you should go get those notes you were talking about, Ed.”

Eddie’s face went beet red, and he stomped off down the hall without a word. He returned quickly, with a noticeable blush still coloring his cheeks. He walked straight past Hopper, who was looking at him expectantly, and handed the short stack of notebooks to Steve before plopping down on the couch, trying not to look at anyone. 

Claudia got up abruptly, gathering her purse as she spoke. “Come on Dusty, we have to get going if you're going to make it to school on time.” The woman had been quiet for so long, Steve almost forgot she was there.

“Mom, are you crazy?” Dustin shouted. “We just found out that monsters are real. There's no way I'm going to school today!”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Hopper beat her to the punch.

“Oh yes you are. I don’t know anything about this monster stuff, but I do know a thing or two about the very real threat to all of us that is Hawkins lab. The best thing everyone can do for now to protect this whole... situation, is to go on about your lives as normal as possible, and do not draw attention to yourselves.” The last part was aimed at Eddie who pretended to ignore them all, suddenly fascinated with the hem of his own t-shirt. 

Dustin floundered. “Does Eddie have to go to school?” 

“Absolutely not.” Eddie said, finally looking up to glare at his cousin.

Hopper looked like he was going to protest that too, but then thought better of it and shrugged. “Eddie skips class enough that not attending school is just as normal as if he were to go.”

“Is that true, boy?” Wayne huffed.

“Unbelievable.” Eddie mumbled before getting up to open the door and usher everyone who wasn’t staying outside. “Okay Hop, well thanks for stopping by, don’t you have a job to get to - CHIEF?!”

Dustin begrudgingly agreed to leave with promises that he’d be back right after school to continue talking about this, and followed Hopper outside to the cars. Claudia hesitated in the doorway, smiling up at Eddie with shining eyes.

“I have never for one second regretted getting you out of that place and bringing you home. It’s the best thing I've ever done, right up there with having my little Dusty. You bring light into all of our lives and I'm so proud to call you family. I love you, honey.” She pinched his cheek and left.

Steve hung back, feeling like an intruder on the private moment happening so close by, but he couldn’t help listening. He was just so in awe of these people, of this unconventional family brought together by sheer chance, who’d protected a little boy no questions asked and loved each other so fiercely. 

Wayne yawned loudly. “Okay, kids, I'm gonna head to bed now before I keel over.”

“You’re not going to give me shit about skipping school?” Eddie asked.

“If you really think that’s the first I've heard of it then you’re thicker than I thought. I wasn’t born yesterday, I know what you get up to. I’m just happy that you stopped selling drugs before I was forced to knock some sense into you.”

Eddie balked. “You knew?!”

Wayne cackled as he turned the corner towards his bedroom.

“I would like to go back to bed too.” El said.

“You can take my bed again.” Eddie offered.

She looked at the two of them in turn. “Will you come with me? I don’t want to be alone.”

It was unthinkable to say no to her, so the three of them piled into Eddie's room. Eleven settled down on the bed and was out like a light almost immediately. At Eddie's insistence, Steve took the desk chair and readied himself for the task ahead, while the other boy paced and puttered around the room.

He wasn’t sure how long it took, but Steve read straight through all four notebooks without taking so much as a single break. It was riveting, the story that Eddie and his friends had weaved. He had already known a few of the parallels he was likely to find between his lived experience and the saga laid out before him, but it was so much more than he ever could have imagined. 

His heart broke all over again as he read about the three young boys finding Eleven in the woods, the same way he himself had done. He could remember with perfect clarity the fear that had shone in her eyes that first night, and how quickly he had come to the decision to take care of her as best he could, no matter the consequences. 

He noted the similarities between Eleven destroying the demogorgon at the school and thus saving the day in the big climax to the first part, and what he knew of her defeating the creature at the lab when they’d first been captured. It probably didn’t matter now, but he wondered if she really had gotten stuck in that other world for a while, and if that was part of why he hadn’t seen her for so long. She had never said, only told him she had needed a lot of rest afterwards. 

The second book came with more than one surprise. His own character, or ‘Game Steve’ as he was calling his doppelganger on the page, had gotten roped into helping Dustin search for an escaped creature that turned out to be a demodog. After a nail-biting confrontation in the junkyard with a small pack of the four-legged monsters, Game Steve cemented himself as the party’s babysitter and fierce protector. 

Steve was floored. He knew it was mostly make-believe, but still couldn’t believe anyone saw him like that, and he found his vision blurring more than once as he continued. 

He was intrigued by the reveal of Eleven, and how she had been off finding one of her escaped siblings and fellow numbers. He thought Eddie might have been trying to tell himself something with that little side-quest. 

They had already touched on the big battle with the demodogs in the basement of Hawkins lab while El closed the gate, and spoke a little about how it went down in both the real and fictional worlds. The scars on Steve’s back burned with the memory, and he allowed himself to skim that part, not wishing to fully relive the horror of that night when it wasn’t necessary. 

He started to take some notes of his own when it came to notebooks three and four. He had too many thoughts and questions to keep it all straight and things only got worse with the growing dread in his stomach as he neared the final pages.

There was no stopping the tears that fell in fat droplets to land on the back cover of the final black and white composition notebook when Steve was finished. His breath hitched as he finally lifted his gaze to look at Eddie, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, for the first time in what felt like hours. 

“Steve?” Eddie stood, hovering over him with concern. 

Steve didn't know where to start. He needed to tell Eddie about Henry, about Vecna. That he was real, that it was all too real, how he was now terrified at the possibility that Eddie had predicted his own death. But Steve couldn’t form the words. Not yet. His throat was tight with pain and panic. 

When he didn’t respond, Eddie knelt down on the floor in front of him, bringing them eye to eye as he reached out a cautious hand. He gently wiped the wetness from Steve’s face with a brush of his thumb. Steve couldn’t help sinking into the touch, too far gone to care what it might imply.

During all of those long and lonely nights at the lab, Steve had started to suspect some things about himself. He realized, beginning with that first time when he told stories of old school days to keep El company in her coma-like state, that any time he spoke about the past, he never failed to find a way to bring up Eddie. 

They hadn’t been friends, though Steve would have liked to be. They were from two completely different circles of people, only speaking on occasion, when chance or fate served to put them in a room together, or set them on the same path down the halls, however briefly. Though he hadn’t realized their meaning at the time, Steve came to cherish those memories, their short but friendly interactions, and the flutter he would feel in his stomach whenever he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on the other boy. 

Steve knew what it was now, and that crush had only grown exponentially in the past 24 hours as he learned about what sort of person Eddie was.

Everything he had just read served as a stark reminder that you never know how much time you have left with someone, or when the next disaster is going to strike. So, while this was most definitely not the right moment by any rational person’s estimation, Steve gave in to the urge to lean forward, crossing the short distance between them, and joined his mouth to Eddie’s in a soft kiss.

After the all-to-brief touch of lips, Eddie pulled back with a sharp intake of breath, his hand still resting on the side of Steve's face. They stared into each other's eyes from inches away and Steve’s heart hammered inside his chest as he fought hard not to panic. Eddie searched his face, and he longed to know what the other boy was looking for so he could show it to him. 

Steve swallowed hard, watching as Eddie’s eyes flicked down to track the bobbing of his throat. A soft whine came spilling out of Eddie’s mouth a split second before he crashed back into Steve. He smiled into the kiss and pulled Eddie up into his lap. He licked along the seam of Eddie's lips, asking permission, and was immediately granted entrance. Eddie opened wide for him and Steve let out a low moan, reveling in the feel of their tongues sliding against each other. 

Eleven rolled over and let out a loud snore from where she still rested on the bed, and they sprang apart, both remembering suddenly that they weren’t entirely alone. 

Steve covered his mouth to stifle the giggle that he couldn’t stop from coming, and was relieved to see Eddie's eyes sparkling with the same amusement. He quickly took Steve’s hand and pulled him to his feet. The pair tiptoed out of the room, quietly closing the door behind them. 

They only made it two steps away from the room before Eddie had him pinned to the wall, overwhelming his senses with lips and tongue. He bit and sucked at Steve's lower lip until his knees went weak and they finally pulled apart, panting. 

As they both caught their breaths, Eddie ran his fingers through Steve's hair and said, “Not that I'm complaining, but what brought this on?”

Steve frowned, paling as he recalled the reason he was so willing to throw caution to the wind. He slid down the wall to sit on the floor, pulling his knees to his chest to fit in the narrow hall. Eddie sat down next to him, close but not touching.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to kill the mood. We don’t have to talk about it, it’s...”

Steve reached over and took Eddie's hand, raising it to his lips to brush a light kiss over the back of it. He couldn’t let Eddie get the wrong idea, not for a second.

“I really like you.” Steve said.

Eddie’s eyes went wide. “Oh.” He breathed. “Well, In case it was unclear, the feeling is mutual.”

“I’m glad.” Steve said, giving Eddie’s hand a squeeze. “But, as much as I would love to spend the afternoon doing more of that, I need to tell you about...”

“Vecna?” Eddie guessed.

Steve dipped his head in a solemn nod. He wasn’t surprised that Eddie had figured it out, he was smart, despite what his history at school would reflect, and he paid attention.

“Among other things.” Steve said. “You had it right, about the hive mind. Everything from that place, the upside down, is connected. The possession? The way it controlled that guy in the third story? That happened to me. Owens got it out by blasting me with heat. You got that part right too, all of their strengths and weaknesses are as you said. I don’t know if the bats exist. I haven't even seen the other world for myself, but I'd be willing to bet they’re real.”

“And Vecna, is he..?”

“Alive? Yes. His name really is Henry and he was the first number, One. I don’t know his backstory to tell you if you got that right or not, but he is responsible for the deaths of the other kids. I was thinking about that. The day El fought with him and sent him into that other dimension, it has to be the same day that you escaped. The alarm would have been going off, just like Claudia said, and everyone would have been too distracted to see you slip away.”

Eddie jerked his hand back, leaning as far away from Steve as he could and wrapped his arms around himself. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered. 

“What could you possibly have to apologize for?”

“Don't you get it, Steve? That means I left her there. I ran, and I let her fight that monster all alone. I mean, I always suspected I was a coward but here's the cold hard proof.”

“No. Don’t do that to yourself.” Steve pleaded. “You were just a kid, and we don’t know what the circumstances were. All that matters now, is that you both made it, you survived. If you had stayed behind, who knows what would have happened.”

Eddie clenched his jaw, clearly still upset with himself, but trying. “What else?”

“Brenner let Eleven think she killed Henry, she felt horribly guilty about it for so long. I figured it out a few months ago, that they suspected he was still alive and that they were using El to find him. I told her what I thought, we figured it would be easy for her to avoid him now that she knew what she was looking for but..”

“He found her. That’s what really happened yesterday.” Eddie finished for him.

“Yes. How’d you know?”

“The blood, the way it looked like it had been dripping out of her eyes. It’s exactly how I pictured it.”  Eddie’s eyes glazed over a little as he spoke.

“You said the most recent campaign, the notes in that fourth book, that was all you, right?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’m worried about how much hasn’t happened yet, and what parts might be real.”

Eddie hesitated.“...Shit, I hadn’t really thought about it like that.”

“Henry just made his first attack, there's no reason to assume it’s his last.”

“What do we do?”

Steve sighed, tilting his head back to thunk softly against the wall. “I think we need to bring them all in, everyone from your campaign who was affected by the Upside-Down. Especially Vecna’s victim’s. I think we should tell them. If it starts happening for real, it’s the only way we’ll have a chance to protect them. It’s up to you though, Eddie. You’d be exposed.”

“So would you and El.” Eddie pointed out.

Steve already knew what his sister would say. “I know.”

Eddie picked at a loose thread on the carpet, thinking. Finally he nodded to himself and looked at Steve. “I can’t let anyone die knowing I could have stopped it. I’m in.”

Together they formed a loose plan. Eddie would pick the boys up from school, they would be the easiest to convince and he might be able to gather Nancy and Jonathan on the way. Chrissy too if he could catch her on her way to cheerleading practice. They’d start there, and get the rest of the group, assuming they believed them, to help to bring the others into the fold. 

They sat there in the hallway for a long time, with Steve resting his head on Eddie's shoulder as they talked. Steve didn’t want to think about the lab, and instead told Eddie about the few months he and El had shared at his old house. He could feel himself smiling like an idiot at the fond memories. Eddie shared more about Dustin, and the boys, about school and his fears that he was going to fail and have to repeat senior year again. 

Eddie snaked an arm around Steve’s back, holding him close, and he found himself nodding off as they settled into a comfortable silence. Eventually, Eddie was forced to wake him, when it was almost time for him to drive to the school. 

Steve yawned and stretched, rolling his neck from side to side. He might be stiff from sleeping that way, but waking up in Eddie’s arms was something he thought he’d pay any price for. 

“Hopper’s not going to like this.” Steve pointed out as he walked with Eddie through to the living room.

“I know!” Eddie grinned. “All the more reason to do it.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, but returned the smile anyway. “What should I tell your uncle if he wakes up?”

Eddie shrugged. “Just tell him and I ran to the store for smokes or something. I won’t be long.”

Steve blinked at him. He didn’t like the idea of lying to the man who was currently putting a roof over his head. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Harrington. If you tell him the truth, he’ll call Hopper, and like you said he’ll hate our plan. In this case I think we’re better off asking forgiveness than permission.”

He couldn’t really argue that, so Steve just nodded. 

There was a moment of awkwardness at the door, neither boy ready to part yet, even temporarily, and not knowing how to say goodbye. Steve wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly they were hugging. Eddie placed a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, and then he was gone.

Chapter 9

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for all your help once again! 😘

@steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @manda-panda-monium @ellietheasexylibrarian @sofadofax @5ammi90 @meccaminayah @bestwifehaver @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @soaringornithopter @buckleybarnes @adaed5

as always, let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tags! 💜

[starry-eyesanddaydreams]

Prompt 15 of @deepperplexity 's Rickmas2023 prompts

December 15: Coal and Cards

Sinclair Bryant x Reader

You've recently moved to the outer suburbs of London and run into a beautiful, sweet, talkative man.

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Maybe you had gone a little bit overboard, you thought as you balanced the bags in your arms. But in your defence, you loved Christmas. And the stores along the high street of the town you’d recently moved to had so many beautiful holiday things. So now you were balancing two paper shopping bags of last-minute gifts, decorations and the ingredients for gingerbread cookies, along with a bag of coal. Your new flat had a cute potbelly stove in one corner that was in working order and you couldn’t wait to get it fired up and making your flat nice and cozy. It had snowed the night before, covering the street and sidewalks in beautiful white coat. But while it looked lovely, it made walking a bit perilous, as you soon found out as your foot skidded on an icier patch of snow and you felt yourself starting to topple. On instinct, you dropped the bad of coal in one arm and grabbed hold of the nearest thing available, a streetlight, which stopped you hiding the ground. Getting your bearings back, you saw that a few items had fallen from one of your shopping bags and bobbed down, setting the bags on the ground and collecting the fallen pieces. “Are you okay?” You heard a deep voice ask. You looked up and saw a man who had bobbed down in front of you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight of him. He had warm hazel eyes, strong features and fluffy blond hair that fell across his brow. The most uniquely handsome man you’d ever seen. “Um, yeah,” you blinked, “I’m fine. Just slipped a little.” “Do you want some help with these? It looks heavy.” He asked, picking up the last piece of your fallen shopping and handing it back to you. “Actually, that would be very nice. My eyes were a bit more than my arms could handle.” You laughed and he smiled in return. He had a beautiful, bright smile. The man picked up on of the shopping bags and the coal bag in each arm and stood. You grabbed the last bag with your baking supplies and stood too. “Thank you for helping me.” You said, “I’m y/n.” “Sinclar Bryant. And it’s my pleasure. Where were you headed?” “Oh, my flat, it’s just at the end of the street.”

You and Sinclar headed down the street, taking their time navigating the snow-covered path. “Have you been living here long?” He asked. “Actually, I just moved in a few weeks ago. I used to live in London and needed a change of scene. It’s so lovely and peaceful out here.” “It is. I work in London. Living out here is a wonderful break from the chaos. You walked quietly for a few moments before Sinclar glanced at the bag he was carrying. Sitting on top was a packet of hand painted Christmas cards. “Did you know Christmas cards were invented by a man who had too many friends to write too?” “No, I didn’t know that.” Sinclar hummed and kept talking, almost absent mindedly, “Henry Cole in 1843. The new penny post system meant a lot more people could send letters and he got so many Christmas letters he couldn’t answer them all properly. And in those days it was considered very bad manners not to answer mail. He worked out an idea with an artist friend, JC Horsely, to design a card with pictures of a family celebrating Christmas and helping the poor. He printed a thousand of them to send out to people. Over time, others started copying his idea and it became fashion to send Christmas cards.” You looked up at him, perplexed by the sudden history lesson but also finding the way he spoke endearing.

Sinclar’ train of thought apparently drifted to the other bundle in his arms and he continued, “You know in Italy, they have the tradition of a Christmas witch called La Befana. Legend is she tried to follow the three wise men to find the baby Jesus, but couldn’t find them, so she gave out her gifts to good children and gave lumps of coal to the bad ones. Today the give out sweets that look loke coal called Carbone Dolce as a joke instead.” Sinclar looked at you and saw your expression, a mix of confusion and amusement, and he blushed slightly, “I’m sorry, I have a habit of talking too much. I apologise if it’s annoying you.” Something in his eyes as he said that tugged at your heart. “You’re not.” You assured him, “It’s actually very charming. And interesting, I didn’t know either of those stories? A Christmas witch? It sounds fun.” Sinclair smiled again and the two of you kept talking more as you walked, first about random Christmas traditions and then about the town. He’s been living there a few years now and you were happy to hear his recommendations about the areas shops and events.

Sinclair felt happier than he’d felt in a long time right now. You were clever and curious. Talking with you was so easy. You’re smile was beautiful and your eyes were so warm and gentle, he found the persistent knot that had sat inside his chest for months finally starting to loosen.   “Oh, and you have to try this bakery, Lenora’s. It’s near the library. The best pain au chocolat and pasties you’ve ever tried. And at Christmas they make amazing hot chocolate.” He stopped, turning to face you properly, taking an impulsive chance, “Are you hungry? If you’re not busy I could take you there, show you around a bit.” He asked, hope and slight nerves colouring his voice. To his relief, you nodded, “I am hungry, actually. And that sounds great, I’d love to have lunch with you.”

You reached your flat and you quickly stashed your shopping just inside the door and headed back out with Sinclar. You walked towards the bakery, arms occasionally bumping into each other, and chatting idly about anything that came to mind, not yet realising that this was the start of something very special.

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Hope who reads this likes it. Sinclair deserves so much love. I want to hug him so bad. I am planning a continuation of this with another prompt.

[snffbeebee]

Poisoned Apples Chapter 3

{ Catch up with Chapter 2 }

Word Count - 6,126

Warnings - Sexy group fun, drugs, swearing and if you squint, a bit of fluff.

“Let me drive,” you stated.

“Not a chance,” he said, speeding down the road.

“You’re angry and going to end up killing us,” you replied. “Let me drive.”

“How about you just keep that pretty mouth shut and let me think?”

“Screw you,” you seethed lowly. 

“What were you doing with those guys anyways?” he barked at you. “We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile.”

“Figured it’d be fun to get chlamydia from the locals,” you snarked and waited for another smartass remark from him. He didn’t take it, but gave you a hard look. “They came up to me, I told them to go away and they didn’t listen.”

“You need to learn how to defend yourself,” he said a little softer. 

“I can defend myself,” you replied with snark. 

“Yeah, sure you can,” he rolled his eyes. “I was able to trick you with a crappy piece of a bed.”

“Yeah, well the blood all over didn’t help with thinking I had a chance or the fact that you woke up choking me.”

“Shouldn’t matter,” he replied. “You’re in life or death territory now. You have to learn to fight back or you’re dead.”

“You must have gone through a lot of fucked up shit to have that type of view on the world.”

“You have no idea,” he replied. He kept his eyes on the road, driving a little slower now. You waited patiently for him to break the silence as you sat there thinking of what he said. Within 2 days you’ve already seen more violence than you had in years. You had a feeling that this was just the beginning.

“New York city is about 30 minutes away,” he finally spoke up. “We need to get new IDs and trade out the car.”

“We’re not trading the car,” you replied firmly.

He glared at you in annoyance, but didn’t really argue. Somehow he knew how important it was to you without you saying it. 

“New plates then,” he stated. “The city should give us cover for a day or two as long as we lay low.”

“I’ve never been,” you shrugged. 

“Well, we’re not taking a sightseeing tour now,” he replied gruffly. “We’re laying low.”

“Fine.” you rolled your eyes again. 

“There’s a mall at the next exit. Can I trust you to stay put while I get clothes?” 

“You want me to just stay in the car?” 

“You’re right,” he glared at you. “You’re not leaving my sight. I can’t have you bringing any more trouble to us.”

“Because I brought it,” you snarked. 

He pulled off on the exit and turned towards the mall. As soon as he found a spot he was barking at you to exit. You followed closely along, but he grabbed at your waist before entering. He was serious about not letting you out of his sight. In the position, you had no chance of even leaving his reach. Within a department store he headed to the men’s clothing. He grabbed the essential undergarments along with a few pairs of pants, t-shirt’s, and a couple of flannel shirts along with a men’s travel grooming kit. He didn’t even bother looking at anything else. He apparently had what he liked and that was it. You suggested that he grab a duffel or suitcase for a quick grab which he agreed. While he was checking out, you finally got a second away from his immediate reach and started looking at the different types of colognes and perfumes. You grabbed a cologne that smelled like cedar with a mix of jasmine and a perfume that complimented it with lavender and amber. You put them down on the counter as well to check out. He gave you an odd look, saying you didn’t need it, but you said you did and that was it. He didn’t argue anymore. 

With the bags, he headed to the men’s room. You were just going to wait outside but he didn’t let you. Instead he entered with you in tow, checking the stalls before telling you to lock the door. He took a poor man’s  bath in the sink, washing himself off after he peeled off his clothing. He became stark naked in front of you without any type of care and you had no idea where to look besides away. 

“You blush easy,” he stated with a laugh in his voice. 

“Not used to people just stripping down,” you replied.

“I have boxers on now,” you looked back at him. “But don’t be afraid to strip down any time you want.”

He gave you a wink as you continued to wait for him. He smelled the cologne you picked out and gave it a little shrug before he sprayed himself down. 

“What’s that tattoo you have?” you asked as he pulled down his undershirt to cover his chest. 

“Anti-possession mark,” he replied nonchalantly. 

“You get that from some demon thing too?”

“No,” he smiled. “But it helps keep demons from wearing you like your cop friend.”

You just kind of stood there nodding like you understood, but it was not an easy concept to grasp. Demon possessions but some tattoo to stop it? This supernatural stuff was weird. 

“We should get you one,” he stated. “You have any tattoos already?” 

“Not that you’ll see,” you responded.

“Well that’s a yes,” he smirked. “Let’s get some food and find a shop. Better to be prepared before we hit the city.”

You followed him out with an odd look from a couple as you left the men’s room. He swung his arm around you and pulled you close, like you were a happy couple shopping together. It actually felt kind of nice and the cologne you picked out was especially intoxicating on him. There was a variety of food choices in the food court as you approached it. You were starving and opted for a mixture of Starbuck coffee, Sbarros pizza, and Panda Express. He looked amazed as you put it all down without a damn care. After grabbing Cinnabon to go, you found a shop right in the mall to get the tattoo. He made the statement to get it somewhere that couldn’t easily come off. You were confused at first, but he told you to think of Monty Python and the Black Knight. You opted for your hip so you didn’t have to lay there with your shirt off in front of him for the next hour.  

“You good?” Dean asked as you were now back on the highway driving. 

“Fine,” you replied, your hip being slightly tender at the moment. Didn’t really consider the fact that you were going to be sitting in a car for a while as it healed. 

As you approached the bridge to the city, you were in wonderment at the spectacular sight of lights and tall buildings. He didn’t seem phased as he drove cautiously around the aggressive drivers. You were somewhat thankful it was him behind the wheel and not you as they cut people off without care. He found a hotel that looked like a brothel that you argued against. He rolled his eyes in annoyance as you suggested finding something cleaner. He continued to at least something that might have a star rating that also included valet. He was annoyed by that, as you thanked the valet driver and entered with him.

“Reservation?” the concierge asked at the desk.

“No,” you replied as you sat down your bag. “Me and my husband are here as a gift to ourselves. We just eloped.”

Dean shot you a look that you ignored from your side view. 

“Ah, honeymooners,” he replied. “Congratulations. We have our honeymoon suite open and a complimentary champagne breakfast in the morning.”

“That will be wonderful, won’t it be sweetie?” you gushed as you played the part. “And we won’t be bothered?”

“Of course not," he smiled. “Just let the housekeeping know when you need cleaning.”

“Two nights then,” you replied. 

“I just need a credit card for incidentals,” he stated as he typed on the computer. 

“So,” you sweetly started to speak, “My credit card was lost on the way here, we just couldn’t wait. I have cash and I trust this will be enough.”

You laid out about $500 on the desk that the concierge eyes lit up to. You added another $100 on top and suggested it was for him for his troubles. He handed you two key cards and you were on your way.

“Husband huh?” Dean whispered to you as you approached the elevator. 

“No one messes with honeymooners,” you replied. “And cash talks. Don’t get any ideas though.”

“Why, we’re married now?” he laughed as he hit the button. 

You entered the room and felt a sense of relief to drop down all the bags and flop yourself backwards onto the bed. You were safe for the moment and not on the move. You never realized how great that would feel. 

“There’s a hot tub,” Dean commented as he looked around. 

“Enjoy it,” you replied. “You didn’t just get a tattoo.”

“Sucks to be you,” he laughed as he looked around. “Where should I sleep?”

“I don’t care,” you replied. “I just want a hot shower and something stiff in me.”

“I can give you something stiff,” he stated low enough for you just to be able to hear it. 

“Are you always this direct?” you pushed yourself up on your elbows. 

“I didn’t think you heard that,” he smirked.

“Yes you did,” you rolled your eyes. “And that will not be happening. This between us is just a safety thing, not whatever it is you keep thinking of there.”

“You say that now,” his smirk continued. “I’m going to take a real shower. You want to join since you said you wanted one too?”

You glared at him hard as he laughed and went into the bathroom. He didn’t shut the door as you caught his reflection in the mirror across from it. He was stark naked again, but this time you didn’t look away as you watched his muscles flex with his movements as he got in and turned on the water. You bit down on your lip as you watched him lather himself up, paying attention to his lower half that was now becoming a grower although you originally thought he was a shower… damn. You shook your head to clear out the thoughts as you raided the minibar. One shot of whisky, one shot of gin, another of tequila and do it again. 

“You alright?” You heard Dean snicker as he came out in a towel, his chest shining with water droplets. 

“I need a bigger bottle,” you pouted as you tossed the last causality in the trash. 

“Well get your shower and get dressed,” he replied. “We will find you one.”

 In the shower, you couldn’t help but to take a minute to tend to yourself. The adrenaline from the last couple days, the sight of Dean naked, the dream, and his flirting… it was getting harder to say no. Any other person and you probably wouldn’t have taken such restraint, but he was a guy brought to your care bruised and on the run. Just because now you were in this situation did not change that fact. When you signed that paper, he became your responsibility and you knew anything more than that would just be exploiting the situation for either of you. As you reached your climax you heard a knock on the door.

“You almost done in there?”

“Yes,” you stammered. Dammit. It was gone now, again. What an asshole .

You got yourself dressed in the nicest outfit you could put together of jeans, sandals, and a low cut tank. Just because you were on the run didn’t mean you couldn’t look nice for you first time in New York City. You grabbed out a little wristlet wallet and stuck a couple bills in it. You handed Dean $200 to keep on his person and the two of you went into the city that never sleeps.

____

He took you to the east village, to the infamous CBGB. You gushed for a minute as you entered. You’d always wanted to visit here, the home of The Ramones and Blondie. He smirked as you looked around in amazement. 

“Thought you’d like it,” he leaned to you to speak over the music. “I happened to look at your music collection back at your house before we left. You got an alright taste.”

You found a little table as he ordered at the bar, bringing two drinks back after a few moments. 

“We should be able to find what we need here,” he stated as he looked around.”Just need to find the right person.”

“Tell me about yourself,” you suggested as a topic.

“Quid pro quo Clarice,” he smirked.  “I’ll tell you something if you tell me something.”

“Fine,” you shrugged as you took a drink. “Where are you from?”

“Kansas,” he replied. “Until I was about 3, then everywhere else traveling.”

“Why?”

“No, you first. Where are you from?”

“ Born and raised in New Hampshire,” you stated. “Never really been anywhere else.”

“We traveled because a demon killed my mom and my dad became obsessed with finding it. Learned how to hunt other things along the way.”

“Sorry to hear that,”

“And your family? What are they like?”

“Dead,” you responded nonchalantly. “Most of them at least I do believe. Parents died when I was like 2, raised by grandpa who died when I was like 19 and I don’t really know of anyone else. Just heard that there was family in different places.”

“So how did you become a therapist?”

“Isn’t it my turn?” you laughed. “Psychiatrist. I went to medical school and my grandfather was one so I learned through him.”

“Well damn. You’re a smartie then,” he chuckled. 

“Sure,” you shrugged. “We will go with that. Past relationships?”

“So far this is in the top 5 of my longest relationships, ” he replied. “Probably one of the healthiest too since you know about me and what I do already.”

“Bad experiences?” 

“More like no time to really experience any normal,” he shrugged. “Always on the move. So what’s your excuse?”

“For what?”

“Not being in a relationship. You said you work a lot and they cause issues. I’m going to guess there’s bad experiences with that?”

“I don’t have enough alcohol to go into that,” you laughed. “But yeah. One in particular was bad, or at least ended badly. Haven’t been in a serious one since.”

“How long ago?” 

“No, it’s my turn,” you changed the subject. “David Lee Roth or Sammy Hagar?”

“Oh damn,” he smirked. “That’s a tough choice. Probably David. I like the originals better usually, but Sammy is good too.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled. 

“When was the last time?”

“Last time for what?” you gave him a furrowed look. 

He just smirked at you, waiting for you to pick up on what he was asking. “Um, I don’t know? March?”

“It’s June,” he chuckled. “You need laid.”

“It’s not that important,” you shrugged. “Anyways they always become messy afterwards and clingy. No one ever just stays one and done.”

“If you’re living in the same town, yeah,” Dean continued to chuckle. “If they never see you again, well they never see you.”

“That is such a man answer,” you rolled your eyes.

“Good thing I’m a man then,” he took a sip of his drink. “So you and me…”

“Never will happen,” you cut him off while turning your gaze away from him to the crowd as you danced your finger along the ring of your glass.

“Why?”

“Because you’re my patient,” you responded.

“You definitely have a different technique than other shrinks I’ve met.”

“Yeah, the hostage thing is a new practice for me too,” you laughed. 

“So what’s wrong with me Doc?”

You glanced over at him and watched as his eyes became a little softer as he looked at waited for your response. You had your theories. Trauma, abandonment issues, father issues as well. Most likely some depression too. Laying it out there was not what he needed, nor what you wanted to provide 6 drinks in. 

“I’m still figuring that out,” you smiled. 

“What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever did?”

“This,” you admitted. 

“Well, even though we’re on the run, I say we enjoy it while it lasts.”

“And do what?”

“Whatever you want, no fucks given. Stop trying to analyze the world and just live in it. I bet you’d finally have fun then.”

“I have fun,” you harped back. 

“Sure you do”, he rolled his eyes as he took another sip of his beer. His eyes gaze off to the side of you towards a girl. There was a slight ping of jealousy that he might be interested in her and you would be left sitting alone. “I think I spotted our ticket.”

He left you for a few minutes as he approached the girl. You subtly watched as they talked. He was charming her the way she was giggling. Was he flirting with her? You started to feel awkward just sitting and waiting for him, but attempted to refocus yourself on the moment.. To just enjoy the music and the crowd. 

“We’re good to go,” Dean stated as he returned. “Ready?”

“For what?”

“Let’s get your picture taken,” he smiled. 

A couple blocks over and the girl was waiting outside with some hipster guy. He looked you both up and down as Dean introduced himself and you to him. 

“So you’re the photographer?” Dean stated. 

“I am,” he responded. “And you have the cash?” 

“I have a deposit,” Dean firmly replied. “Rest after the final product if youre as good as she says you are.”

“You won’t find anyone better on this side of the coast.”

You followed them in, not quite sure what the hell was happening when you noticed a line of fake IDs and passports on the table. Once you realized where you were, you inched a little closer to Dean, just in case things turned sideways. 

“For names, you trying to keep your first names?” the photographer that you now knew as Gus asked as he handed the girl, Tori, his jacket. 

“That’d be preferable,” Dean stated. “Whatever you’re able to do.” 

“I’m able to create anything. I am an artist. Tori is her own type of artist in being able to hack and create whomever you want to be in the national database. The question is, who do you want to be?”

That was a loaded question. Who did you now want to be? The only thing you could think of was Nicks, after the great white witch herself. Dean opted for 

Wash as his last name. You guessed he liked his initials as D.W. 

Tori lit up a joint and handed it off to you as Gus took Dean for his photo. You kindly declined, but she insisted it was the best. For once in a long time, you decided to take someone else’s advice and go with the flow. No fucks given. 

After the photos were done they said it’d be ready tomorrow, but suggested a party that they were having upstairs in their loft. Dean looked to you for approval and with you new buzz, you accepted without hesitation. 

As you followed them up the stairs, you went along with their giggles although you had no idea what they were privately talking about. Upon entering you realized what type of party you were just invited to; a sex party. The room was dimly lit with colorful strings of lights in no particular order with naked bodies in different positions. You glanced back at Dean who was more than intrigued but looked back at you as if he was trying to read your face. You considered your options in the moment as you turned your head back to the crowd. Gus now moved in front of you, taking off his shirt to show his muscles rippling in the light. He settled his hands on either side of your face and pulled you in for a kiss that you accepted. It had been so long since you had just a sensual touch that you started to melt right there as he moved his lips away he stuck a little pill between his lips and returned back to your mouth, allowing the pill to enter as you swallowed it. Whatever it was, you knew this was going to be an adventure you would never forget. 

Gus took your hand and led you into the crowd. There were more now standing as you worked your clothing off, lips and hands touching your body with every movement. You didn’t know who they were, but you soaked it in as your mind started to become fuzzy and you felt a high so fierce that not even god could bring you down.

You found yourself on a couch, Gus settled between your legs as you rocked back and forth to another orgasam. Your eyes caught Dean for the first time in you don’t even know how long. He was across from you with some girl sitting in his lap as he pumped into her. Your gaze could not move, even if you willed it as his eyes caught yours while he leaned her back with his hand on her throat as he thrusted in her harder. Watching him have his way with her was putting you on edge as you started to imagine you in her place, his lips, his hands, his thick cock pumping into you over and over. You cried out in ecstasy as you felt someone now enter you, pushing themselves forward to tickle your g spot just right that you felt yourself shudder in anticipation. Dean was now moved between Tori’s legs whose head was just a mere couple inches from yours as you were moved to the floor. You watched as he brought her to her climax as he moved to straddle her. As he dipped down on her, he looked to you. You were biting your lip as the man inside of you snapped his hips just right. Deans eyes stayed on you, focused as he made her cum not once, but at least 3 times from what you could tell as you rode out your own. As he finished he got up, and walked away, looking back at you once with a smile. You remember smiling back, but after that… everything around you became a blur of pleasure. 

___

The sun was harsh as you opened your eyes. You groaned into the pillow for it to disappear as you realized that you were awaking in a bed, in the hotel room you acquired and you were dressed.

“Good morning, or afternoon I should say,” you heard Dean.

“How did we get back here?” you asked as you sat up and immediately regretted life as your head throbbed.

“I brought you back when you looked like you were done,” he stated. “You definitely appeared to be having a good time.”

“I don’t remember even half of it,” you said as you rubbed your eyes.

“That’s how you know you had fun,” he handed you a couple of pills and water. You gave him a questioning look in return. “It’s just tylenol, to help with the hangover.”

“Thanks,” you muttered before taking it. You sat up a little straighter as you noticed between your legs felt raw from the night before. Fun at the time, aftermath? Not so much. “Did we…?”

“No,” Dean answered with a soft smile. “You said you didn’t want to before, I wasn’t going to take advantage of the situation.”

You responded with a slight chuckle, remembering how you got off thinking about him doing the things to you. Part of you wished he would have, the other part was thankful he respected your request. 

“I will say though,” he smirked. “You are a wildcat.” 

“What?” you laughed out of embarrassment. What did you do that you didn’t remember?

“They way you were moving, the scratches down their backs, how you rubbed your tongue all over their bodies and took not just the girls in, but the guys like a damn champ.”

“I did what?” your eyes widened.

“I’m just fucking with you,” he grinned. “You have to admit though, wasn’t it nice to let loose for once?”

“Yeah,” you sheepishly replied. “But i’m good on that type of fun for a while. My legs are sore.” 

“Have some breakfast”, he suggested as he pointed to the little couple's cart with the champagne. “Enjoy yourself. I’ll be back in a while.” 

“Where you going?” 

“Get our IDs and figure out the plate situation,” he stated with a soft smile. “I won’t be gone long, that is, unless you want to see your new friends again?”

“I’m good,” you laughed as you grabbed a piece of bacon and tore it with your teeth to eat. 

“Don’t do anything crazy without me.” 

You continued to eat and relax for a while while waiting for Dean. After some relaxation of a nice hot shower to pamper yourself, you started looking at the hotel service information which gave you an idea. 

“Sorry that took so long-“ Dean stopped his words as he looked at you. You had gone to the salon and opted for a new color that was dark red with bright red chunky highlights. “What did you do?”

“Decided to go incognito,” you shrugged as you looked at yourself in the mirror. “I like it.”

“If you do,” he shrugged as he handed you your ID.

“Hiding should be easier for you now. You can go anywhere you want.”

“Thanks,” you sighed as you looked at it and thought about what he just said. “Why did that just sound like you are leaving?”

“I’m not at this moment,” he replied. “But eventually, you should probably cut ties with me. It’ll be safer for you.”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip. “But-“

“But what?” He sounded like he was a bit excited about what you were going to say. The look in his eyes told you what he wanted you to say, the feeling in your gut told you what you should say. You didn’t listen to either. “I want you to teach me.”

“Teach you?” his brows scrunched.

“How to fight. How to survive all those things you talked about,” you pleaded. “ You at least owe me that.”

“I’m not teaching you,” he gave you a firm glare. “You’ll get yourself killed.”

“From where I’m standing, I’ll get myself killed if I don’t learn how.”

“You really want to do this?”

“I don’t think it’s a want, more a need.”

He groaned as he rubbed his hands along his stubble. He didn’t like it, that was obvious, but he couldn’t deny thay you were right. He nodded his head in agreement, suggesting first that you utilized the gym facilities to see what you could do. You followed him down there, waiting for instruction as he looked around. He didn’t give you much direction as you patiently waited with your arms crossed. 

“Punch me,” he stated as he stood in front of you. 

“What?”

“Punch me.”

You didn’t need to be told another time as you cocked back your fist and knocked him in his jaw. 

“Not in the face,” he groaned as he rubbed his jaw. 

“Sorry,” you mustered out, attempting to hide the smile. It felt kind of good. 

“Not horrible, but you lock up your wrist. You’re going to break it doing it like that.”

He showed you the proper way to punch and had you in front of a bag to practice. You did a couple reps as he watched patiently. You’re arms began to burn in pain, causing you to stop.

“What are you doing?” 

“I need a break,” you replied as you caught your breath. 

“No breaks, keep going,” he barked. 

You rolled your eyes and continued to hit the bag, now imagining his face there. He told you to add in some kicks as well. You tried to, but lost your balance when it swung back on you making you fall back on your ass.

“The bag beat you,” he smirked. 

“Screw you,” you seethed in annoyance. 

“You wanted this,” he helped you up. “Now again.”

You continued for what felt like forever, your tshirt now soaked in sweat. He finally told you to stop, to which you thanked the heavens. As you walked away from the bag he got in your way. 

“Now try to hit.”

“What are you doing?”

“A bag is one thing, now to hit a person. One moving,” he replied. “Try. If you’re successful, you can quit for the day.”

You glared at him hard as you swung your arm, he moved his head out of the way. He grabbed your foot as you tried to kick him. Every hit, he blocked. Your frustrations grew as you started to move faster and faster with your hits, he was able to grab your fist and twist you around, pinning your arms up against you with his. You felt his breath next to your ear as you caught your own.

“Dead,” he purred into your ear. “You let your emotions get you. You do that and you’re dead.”

“How about instead of screwing around, you just tell me what I should be doing?” you leaned your head back to him, your mouth inches from his. Your breath quivered as you thought about them on yours, his arms holding you tight. 

“Everyday, at least three times a day for an hour to start,” he release your arms and walked away. “If you can learn to control those emotions, then it’s the next phase.”

“Because you’re so great at controlling yours,” you accidentally said out loud with snark. 

“Excuse me?” he gave you a hard glare. 

“I’m angry. I’m pissed! You fucked up my life and you’re trying to tell me to control my feelings? Fuck you!”

“It’s not ignoring them, it’s using them. That’s how you control them,” he replied with ferocity in his voice. “Be angry. Be pissed! Just don’t be stupid.” 

Something snapped within you where you punched him hard in the gut. He keeled over in pain as you turned to walk away.

“How’s that for using it!”

____

You were back in the room after cleaning up yourself. You laid on the bed with the remote, flipping through the channels angrily when Dean walked in. 

“You feeling better?”

“No,” you blurted. “I feel mad and bad.”

“Why?”

“Because of the situation and because I hit you,” you looked over to him. “Sorry.”

“Never be sorry,” he replied. “I can take it, and so much more. I never meant for any of this.”

“I know,” you took in a deep breath and exhaled. “But normally I’m this calm and collected person. Now? I’m just all sorts of confused.”

“Well how about you stop trying to be the doctor and just try being normal. It’s okay not to be okay,” he stated as he sat down next to your legs on the bed. 

“It’s easier for me to do that. I can control the situation,” you huffed.

“Stop it,” he laughed. “You can’t control everything. Your textbooks should have told you that much.”

“They did,” you sighed. “I ignored that part.”

He chuckled as he laid his hand on your leg, giving you an assuring rub. You started to feel that feeling again as you thought about what he said. You can’t control everything.

“What’s one thing you really wanted to do in New York before we go?”

You thought about it for a minute as you shrugged. He gave you an encouraging squeeze on your leg again. 

“Get a super fancy outfit and go to one of those restaurants where the waiters wear white gloves to have a 7 course meal,” you replied. “And a ballet or broadway show. Something different.”

“Okay,” he clicked his tongue. “I would have just settled for burgers, but sure. A New York strip steak would be nice. Let’s go shopping.” 

“You’re going to wear dress clothes?” you gave him a smirk. 

“I actually look really good in a suit,” he smiled back as he tapped on your leg to move. 

“I bet you do,” you smiled as you got up. 

You hit 5th avenue and at first, you felt like you were in the movie ‘Pretty Woman’ as the attendants ignored you. Eventually as the shopping excursion progressed, so did your clothing and numerous bag quantities. They were more than obliged to assist you after showing how much money you had. Eventually you found the perfect dress, a sleek red dress that plunged down your chest with a high cut slit for the leg. You got yourself ready as Dean was busy making the plans for the evening since he only required about 15 minutes to change. 

You waited patiently with your new prada clutch for him to arrive within the lobby. A black town car rolled up, Dean exiting with a smile in an all black suit, no tie, with collar unbuttoned just a little. You walked out with a confused look as he assisted you into the car, being mindful of the dress. 

“You wanted a night in style,” he stated before he shut the door.

He took you to a place called ‘The View’. That was an understatement as you clearly could see the marvelous spectacle that was Manhattan. The food was delicious as you enjoyed your view and company. You had idle chit chat more about yourself, getting to know interests and past lives. After the most scrumptious dessert you had ever had, the two of you made it to Broadway to see ‘Wicked’. You did your best to not sing along, but during defying gravity it was a challenge. You caught his glance at you during it with a soft smile. This felt like a date. A real date. So that’s what they are supposed to be like?

As the night ended he asked you if there was anywhere else you wanted to go. It was near 11 at night and you had just one thing left on your bucket list. You directed the driver to stop at whatever late night bakery he knew of and then to the shopping district again. You retrieved two Cronuts and when you got to your second stop, you pulled Dean out of the car.

“What are we doing?” He asked while reading the store signage.

“I know it’s still night time, but breakfast can happen whenever you want,” you said as you handed him a Cronut.

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” he laughed. “Okay then.”

You both ate in silence, just enjoying the moment. As you finished, Dean grabbed at your hand and twirled you around like on a dance floor.

“What was that for?”

“Now you can say you’ve also danced in the streets of Manhattan,” he kept his hand linked with yours and pulled you close, slow dancing for a moment where you laid your head on his shoulder. 

“If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up,” you stated. 

“We should get going,” Dean cleared his throat, leading you back to the town car. 

The ride back was silent as you started to contemplate your ethics. You never really had him as a client and anyone else could have signed him in. This situation that you were in, had to trump any of the normal ethical codes, right? 

 As you got back to the hotel, you noticed Dean being somewhat distant as you approached the room. When you got in, he suggested that you go ahead and change while he went down to the lobby bar. You nodded in agreement as he left. Why was he acting like this? 

After getting dressed you went down to the bar, but stopped at the sight of Dean flirting with a girl, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. That was the moment you felt the pain in your chest; heartbreak. All his endless flirting was just that, not a genuine interest in you as a person. His eyes caught yours as you watched him give her a soft kiss. You turned and left, speeding back to the room to hide away. The tears that fell as everything the past couple days brought you came flooding into your mind until your body could no longer take it

The Angels and Demons - @ezilyamuzed @daughterofthenight117 @redlipstickandthewinchesters @chocolateheart @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog@ain-t-bovvered @ladysparkles78 @waywardbaby @nanie5 @ladywinchesterslibrary @candy-coated-misery0731 @stoneyggirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @@leigh70 @deans-baby-momma @akshi8278 @hobby27 @jaylarkson @ladywinchester1967 @sonotalice @krazykelly @drakelover78 @19agbrown @pisces-cutie @aloneanddesperate-blog @midnightsilver @dean-winchesters-bacon @waywardnerd67 @bobasheebaby

[ursa-tan]

Don't fight with me

—————

Konshu (moonknight) x reader

5,013 words

Marc Spector (moonknight) & reader

Marc and the reader are out on a mission, both being godly avatars (Marc having Konshu and the reader having Anubis), they’re expected to be civil towards each other. After spending a month cramped up in a tiny, cheep apartment, the reader has enough and snaps at Marc about cleaning up after himself. Konshu is not happy to hear them shout at his avatar

The last thing I wanted to be doing right now was getting in a fight with the man I was living with. Marc Spector was normally a great guy, a little brash and heavy handed at times but overall really sweet, especially to me. But right now, he was being an utter dick head. I don’t know why he thought ignoring chores was a good idea, but apparently, he did. I didn’t ask for much, I just wanted him to clean up after himself, that’s all. But it was too much for poor old Marc to do.

I didn’t want to shout at him, but he wasn’t willing to listen to a simple request. It was a bad day, I was tired and just wanted a fucking break. But apparently that too much to ask.

“Seriously Marc? You make a mess in the kitchen and don’t clean it up?”

“I’m tired (Y/n), cut me some slack,” he groaned without looking up at me.

“This apartment is barely big enough for the both of us, I just want to keep it tidy so its an easier space to live in.” I could feel anger bubbling in my chest, a scream scratching at my throat to get out.

“Stop being so aggressive about it. Ill get round to it.” This time he looked at me, the pure apathy on his face only made me angrier.

“Y’know what Marc? Fine. Fuck you! If you don’t Wanna clean up after you, I won’t either!”

“Oh, fuck off (Y/n)! I couldn’t care less!”

I didn’t take the time to look at his face, as he said “I couldn’t care less”. So, I opted to just storm away to the only space that was mine and mine alone in the tiny apartment – my bedroom. I just needed a minute alone. Just a little while away from the man in the living room.

And I thought I was going to get that, until the all too familiar sound of wind pierced the silence.

I whipped around, intending to give Konshu a piece of my mind, only to find him already looming over me. I stumble backwards in shock, eventually bumping my back against the wall behind me, but he still doesn’t give me any space.

“You think it’s a good idea to start a fight with my avatar human?” the god loomed over me now, one hand reaching to rest on my shoulder, thumb gently caressing the front of my neck.

“Fuck off, I don’t answer to you.” I had to resist the urge to spit in his face, choosing to sneer at him instead.

Suddenly, his hand was around my neck, the long bony fingers wrapped fully around my neck, squeezing at the soft flesh with just enough force to insinuate a threat. His tall stature bent down to bring the tip of his beak next to my ear, along with his free hand up to your hip.

“You may be tethered to your own god Human, but I am in charge here.” His hands both continued to tighten as his husky voice reached my ears.

“Fuck off Konshu, I’m not scared of you,” I hissed out, prompting him to press me into the wall harder than I was before. I desperately wanted to retaliate, but I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere.

“I’m going to give you a choice,” he growled into my ear “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, it’s entirely up to you.”

“I’m not scared of you Konshu, I’m not just going to let you push me around.”

He seemed rather happy that I said that, pulling me away from the wall and pushing me towards my bed. His large hands let go of me once the back of my legs hit the mattress, letting me fall onto it.

It only took a second before he was bending down and placing his hands on the mattress, either side of my body and caging me in. My breath quickened and I could feel a heat rising to my face.

“Well then Scarab, I’m glad you want to do things the hard way.” Both hands were on me in an instant, gripping at my hips, almost painfully digging into me. His fingers ran up my body, hooking into the waistband of my jeans.

Konshu didn’t speak this time, only tugging at the waist band and waiting for me to answer. My heart rate quickened as I froze up, not moving an inch as he tugged once again.

“Are you too dumb to understand a simple gesture Scarab? Do you need to spell it out for you?” His voice was still gravely in my ear, making my face grow that much hotter. “Fine then. Take them off, or let me.” Only when he finished speaking did I realise he had been undoing the button of my jeans.

All I could do was lift my hips slightly while I blinked at him, shivering at his hands as they skimmed down the skin on my thighs. Slowly they were exposed to the air and as soon as my jeans hit the floor, his hands went straight to grope at my thighs.

“I’m not going to do this if you don’t want it.” He continued to slowly massage my thighs, kneading the sensitive flesh between his large hands. I remain frozen, staring straight up at the ceiling and breathing heavily, but I push my thighs against his hands trying to get him to continue.

“No, Scarab. Use your words. Or are you too stupid?”

I let out a small grumble, pushing my thighs into his hands even more and whispering. “I want this.”

“I didn’t hear a please Scarab,” he whispered in my ear, continuing to massage my thighs. I failed to bite back the temptation to growl at him.

“I’m not gonna fucking beg for you K-“ I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence as I felt one finger brush over my clothed core, applying more pressure over the entrance and then pulling away. Konshu chuckled darkly, slowly dragging his finger back and forth across the fabric of my panties.

I still refused to open my mouth, but the god above me seemed perfectly happy to continue going about things his way. Slowly, his finger found my entrance and began to push more firmly against over my panties. I was sure that the sharp tip was going to pierce the fabric as he pushed harder and harder. Just as the fabric reached breaking point, he pulled away. Not even seconds after he did, Konshu’s hands were back on my skin, pulling my panties down my legs and tossing them onto the floor.

Only now did I realise how truly cold his hands were, guess that’s what I get for getting down and dirty with a skeletal bird god. The tips of his fingers scratched at the soft flesh of my inner thigh as they scraped towards my core. Heat was slowly beginning to build in my core as he edged ever closer to actually touching me, only to move back down and start the process all over again.

His hands finally start to skim closer to my cunt, only to move out of the way last second and begin to snake up my shirt. I feel my stomach muscles tense when his fingers ghost my lower abdomen, causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

His hands skimmed behind by back, a gently tug urging me to sit up. Although, I didn’t have to worry about that for long, as I was guided back down again by a gently push to the chest as soon as my shirt and bra were gone. Both pieces of fabric were forgotten as toon as they hit the floor, as Konshu started to skim those sharp fingers of his over my delicate skin once again. Although this time, they weren’t restrained to any one area and instead trailed my entire body.

His right hand made its way back to my cunt, which at this point was soaking. I could feel him trailing a finger around it, watching as my legs twitched and my hips jolted while he did. It didn’t take him long to find my clit, brushing over it with his thumb in such a delicate manner it almost had me begging for more. Slow, gently, feather light circles were traced over my clit for a few seconds before a sudden, sharp push had me gasping for air.

Another chuckle fell from Konshu. I tried to look away from him, but his left hand came to grip my face and force me to look at him.

“You are going to watch exactly what I do to you until I say you can look away, understand Scarab?” before I had a chance to answer, the muddle finger of his right hand was dipping into my pussy. Little by little, his finger moved into me, until it was impossibly deep. Once he could push in no further, he slowly began to pull out. He kept this excruciatingly painful pace for a few seconds before pulling out entirely.

A moan almost left my lips, only to be replaced by a sharp gasp when a different finger was pushed inside of me. He did the same with this one has he did with the other, only pulling out once he deemed it sufficiently wet. Looking up to me to check I was still paying attention, he used the fingers that were now wet with my slick to push back into me.

“Konshu-“ The hand that had been gripping my face moved sharply to cover my mouth instead.

“Tonight, I am your god, your master. You will address me as such Scarab, or you will suffer the consequences.” Slowly, he began to curl his fingers into me, the flat pads pressing into my walls. “But I fully intend to make sure you can’t speak by the end of tonight.” His fingers continued to move, stretching me with a slightly painful burn that made me writhe.

“Oh Scarab, if you can’t take this, there’s no way you’ll be able to take me,” he murmured into my ear, continuing to slowly curl what would be the pads of his fingers into my upper wall before relaxing them. Konshu continued to slowly move his fingers, never changing pace or how hard he was doing it. All I could do was let my eyes flicker shut and hold my hips off the mattress as he did.

A short moan started in my throat but didn’t have time to reach my lips as Konshu pushed the thumb of his free hand past my lips. It pushed down onto my tongue, effectively silencing me as my watery eyes looked up to him.

“Oh Scarab, is this too much for you?” he didn’t give me a chance to answer before his fingers began to curl and relax faster than before. I could feel him slowly begin to pump them as well. The pleasure began to build up very quickly, growing from a warm tingle in my cunt to a tightening pleasure in my lower abdomen. I could feel it surmounting, building to a fast climax. Just as white began to creep into the corners of my vision and a whine built up in the back of my throat, his fingers stopped.

The sudden stillness ripped the building whine from my throat, only now it was a whine of displeasure. I tried my best to show how frustrated I was by biting down on his finger, but with him being a god, it didn’t seem to have much effect. Despite the lack of reaction, I continued my attempted assault on his bony thumb. This still yielded no results – until I felt his fingers sharply push up into my, causing my biting to stop and a desperate moan to tear itself from my throat in its place.

“I really wouldn’t suggest trying to fight me, unless you don’t wish to cum tonight.” I now understood why Marc found him so insufferable. Well, I always had, but now I really knew. In a pathetic attempt to apologise, my lips gently closed around the part of him that was still in my mouth and I pressed the flat of my tongue against it. The god above me seemed pleased with my non-verbal answer and rolled his thumb over my wet tongue.

His fingers began to move inside of me once again, pumping and curling with the same rhythm they had found before. I defiantly wasn’t one to complain, instead continuing to absentmindedly play with Konshu’s thumb using my tongue and moan at the pleasure. Once again, it didn’t take long for the pleasure to begin to bubble up in my stomach, the tension in my lower abdomen began to tighten once again and almost bubbled over – only for Konshu to stop once again. Some part of me was sure that if he could smirk – he would be.

The pressure slowly simmered down, but Konshu never removed his fingers. Just as the pressure ebbed away, leaving me a little frustrated and beyond disappointed, he began to move again. Faster and harder than before this time, his hand was moving almost painfully, but not quite, the feeling of a climax built up much faster than the previous, and I could feel myself tightening around him. He stopped again and I could feel tears bubble up in the corners of my eyes and spill, trickling down my face at the overwhelming feeling.

“What do you want little Scarab?” His voice wasn’t aggressive like it had been before, but it wasn’t kind either. He was taunting me, making fun of me and the state I was in because of him.

I tried to speak, to spit a witty remark in his face, but it didn’t work. My throat had closed in on itself and all I could do was gasp for air and breathe heavily as he chuckled.

“If you want to cum, then you best work for it,” his voice was smoother than ever, flowing like the Nile and making me desperate for release. Despite the humiliation it would normally bring, I felt as if I had surpassed a threshold of some kind and slowly began to try and bounce my hips.

I was quick to find out that it wasn’t working, and settled on rolling my hips instead. Konshu moved in time with me, but put in no more effort than I did. I was effectively fucking myself on his fingers and he was getting off to the idea – I was sure of it. Tears blurred my vision more than before and I couldn’t help but let small whines scratch their way out of my throat. My hips moved faster and with more force as I continued, and despite the effort that I had to put in, my climax began to build up again.

My face burnt with embarrassment as I felt myself tighten around Konshu’s fingers, my hips shuddering as I got closer. The pressure that had been fading in and out to par finally snapped and I came. The orgasm washed through me, back arching with the pleasure as I gushed over the god’s fingers.

I could feel his fingers keep moving as I came down from my high. My body relaxed into the mattress once the pleasure finally ebbed away, allowing my muscles to completely relax. His fingers still didn’t stop moving, gently massaging my walls.

“You ready for more Scarab?” his voice was gravely, sending a shiver up my spine and causing a whimper to fall from my mouth. Konshu seemed pleased with that, finally sliding his fingers out of me and starting to rub gentle circles on my clit.

His free hand moved to his own hip, fiddling with something before returning it to my thigh. His fingers dug into my soft flesh, massaging and bruising it. I couldn’t help but roll my hips up into his hand, causing his fingers to slip in and out of me.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he almost chuckled, finally removing his fingers from me. I whined as the long, almost rough fingers dragged out of me. The pleasure finally faded completely, leaving me with a warm wetness between my legs and partially smeared down my thighs.

My voice seemed to come back once he stepped out from between my thighs, so I propped myself up on my elbows and looked up at him. The god stares down at me as I close my legs and let my face settle down into a deadpan expression.

“So, you’re gonna edge me and leave me huh?” Obviously, my sarcasm hadn’t left me at any point. Although my question seemed like the wrong thing to say at this very moment, as the towering figure leaned in. He would be caging me in if not for the fact that his arms were tucked behind his back.

“Would you like to phrase that differently scarab?” A darkness dripped from the ancient voice that I’ve never quite heard before. If I could’ve swallowed my words right then, I would have. However, intrigue spread through my body and, despite the fact Konshu was a god, I wasn’t going to let him push me around.

“No.” I tried to keep my voice strong and stable, but the way he straightened his posture to stand as tall as the ceiling would allow made my body quiver.

“Have it your way then Human.”

Fuck

There was a rustling and the fabric that had adorned his waist dropped to the floor. It crumpled around his feet in a heap before he stepped out of it. I was drawn to look at Konshu’s face, unable to tear my eyes away.

In a way that could’ve been mistaken as tender, the bony, calloused hands of the god before me once again trailed up my sensitive thighs. Rough bone moved to cup the delicate flesh on the insides of my thighs and – for a second – I thought I had gotten away with that I had said.

Suddenly, his demeanour changed, using his superior strength to snap my previously closed legs open and hold them there. I fought to close them, purely out of spite, but nothing I did fought against the god’s strength.

“If you call me name, my real name, I shall stop… Until then, you are mine to do with as I please.”

A deep pit started to form in my stomach, causing me to tear my eyes away from the almost delicate looking structure around his eye sockets. Lustful eyes trailed all the way down his body, stopping at his crotch.

I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting, but a large, almost translucent and honey coloured member was not it. It was solidly 8 inches long, maybe more, and dripped with what I could only assume was precum. The girth was hard to judge from this angle, but you could understand why he had made the comment earlier.

Nervousness consumed me as I realised there was no way this was going to happen without at least a little pain on your end. Words bubbled up your throat and tumbled over your lips in an attempt to stall him just a few more seconds.

“Don’t you need a c-“ He cut me off, hands holding the underneath of me knees as he tugged me closer.

“No need, you are a mortal. Your fragile little body wouldn’t take it even if you wanted to.”

Questions flooded my mind and the thought of the painfully delicious stretch to come was no longer on the forefront of my mind.

“But aren’t new gods cr-“

A sharp thrust caused his member to glide through my folds, coating it in my wetness.

“Cease your incessant questions. You are a mortal, nothing will happen,” his voice seemed distant, preoccupied on things other than me running my mouth.

Konshu pulled his hips back, removing a hand from the back of my knee to take hold of his cock. Guiding it towards my practically dripping entrance. The thick head pushed against my entrance before slipping up at the last second, pressing against my clit. It’s still sensitive from earlier and the pressure makes my back arch, eyes squeezing shut; the leg not being held by Konshu wrapping around his waist.

Dark chuckling came from above me and the god readjusted, finally pressing into me. Not even an inch in I could feel the stretch, pushing me further open than I had ever been before. Soft whimpers make their way from my lips, spilling out and into the air.

“Hmm, what a wonderful sound,” his grumbling voice dripped with lust, only adding to the way my pussy squeezed around him.

Konshu moved his hands, placing them on the underside of my thighs. For a second, confusion passes over me before he’s pushing my legs forwards, knees practically touching my shoulders. The burn of my muscles sketching is quickly pushed to the back of my mind by the feeling of the god pushing into me. His large hands continued to hold me exactly as he wanted me, pushing his hips to slip his cock into me. Burning pleasure coursed outwards from my core, reaching a high when his pelvis finally pressed into the underside of my thighs.

Despite what seemed like desperation to move, the ancient being pressed into you stayed still, opting only to pull your legs so they laid partially over your shoulders instead. Slowly, the pain from being stretched so much gave way to a most more pleasurable sensation. Although, there was a pushing inside of you that was stranger than anything you’d ever felt.

Managing to raise your head ever so slightly, you looked down and at your lower stomach. There was a slight bulge. Caused by Konshu’s member pushing against the soft, warm walls of your pussy. You wanted to reach down and touch it, push against it and see what it felt like, but decided against it for the time being.

Seeing the way I moved to look at my body, Konshu gave an experimental thrust, pulling out half an inch before sliding back in. My head fell backwards onto the soft sheets as he did, a moan falling from my lips. I hadn’t expected it to feel like good.

In response to my moan, he gave another experimental thrust, then another and another. Slowly, he built up a good pace, pulling out slightly more every time until he was about a quarter of the way out before thrusting back into me. MY pussy began to flutter around him, squeezing his cock while it dragged along my walls.

It almost sounded as if he was growling above me, huffing with each move. I know he was restraining himself for my sake – something I didn’t think the god could do. I reached down, between my legs, to run a finger over my clit. However, my hand was quickly swatted away my Konshu.

He moved his left arm to cross both of my legs, holding the outer side of my right thigh and pressing them both to his chest. His right hand quickly snakes between my legs and a thumb pressed to my clit. Konshu began to rub fast, tight circles with just enough pressure to make my back arch off the bed and I practically screamed for him.

Barely understandable words spilled from my lips as my eyes squeezed shut, but not once did I say his name. “God, Feels so good!” I yelled as the muscles in my back screamed for me to relax.

He didn’t respond, only quickening his thrusts. Languid motions that drew more and more out of me as they sped up. Konshu started to go harder as well, pounding into me with each snap of his hips. Each thrust seemed to have him slipping further out of you as well.

Konshu finally settled into a brutal, bruising pace, slipping all the way out of me before fucking himself all the way back in. I could feel every time the head of his cock came in contact with my walls and, combined with the sensation of the tight circled being rubbed on my clit, it was driving me towards my second orgasm of the night – quickly.

My moans grew in volume and shrillness, until I was practically screaming. Konshu seemed to enjoy this, his hips or hand never once faltering. The knot in my belly grew tighter as he kept going. Despite the fact he never changed pace, it felt as if I was getting more and more sensitive until my orgasm finally comes crashing over me.

White hot bliss coursed over my body, consuming my vison and mind, leaving no room for anything else. Arching off the bed once again, every muscle in my torso and legs felt like they tightened with absolute pleasure. I could do nothing but moan, no words were formed though, just a scream of pure ecstasy.

Once I finally started to come down from my high, I noticed Konshu hadn’t changed his pace at all. Although his thumb was slowing down on my clit, he never actually removed it, and his hips didn’t stutter nor falter. The feeling as starting to get to much, overwhelming me as I finally dropped fully back onto the mattress.

Tears began to brim in my eyes faster than I thought they would’ve. Overwhelming was the only thing I could call the sensation now. The drag of his cock along my sensitive walls.

The hand that had previously been occupied playing with my clit moved to my lower stomach. Suddenly I was aware of what he was going to do. Large fingers splayed out, palm directly over where the small bulge would appear with every thrust, not applying pressure yet.

That changed rather quickly, as his palm pushed down into my belly and the feeling of his cock became accentuated. My previous screams of pleasure turned into overwhelmed sobs. Yet I didn’t want him to stop.

For a moment, just a moment, Konshu seemed as if he wanted to as if I was ok. But even through the blur of tears that cascaded down my cheeks, I begged for more. And the god obliged my pleads.

This was no longer about my pleasure, but rather about him chasing his release. His hips finally began to falter, thrusts becoming sloppier and more pressure being applied to the hand pressed against my stomach. I could’ve sworn I could hear him mumbling curses with the occasional hint of my name, but the ringing in my ears made it hard to know.

Finally, Konshu tipped over the edge, finding his release. His hips never stopped moving nor did they truly slow. Instead, he continued to fuck me hard and fast through his orgasm. Spilling into me hot and heavy, growling out my name. After what felt like minutes of agonising pleasure, his hips finally stilled, pressed into me. He was panting, catching breath he didn’t need to catch.

I shifted, pulling myself out of his grip and off of him, sighing at the feeling of being empty and letting myself go limp against the bed. Konshu’s cum spilled out of me as I lay there, catching breath I actually needed to catch.

A bony hand touched my thigh, gently, moving it to exam it.

“I didn’t hurt you did I Scarab?” I was surprised at how gentle his voice was, especially as his hands twisted me every so slowly, checking for bruising.

“No… Not in a way I didn’t like at least…” I was still trying to suck in breaths and calm my pulse.

I felt the hotness between my legs and inside me dissipate suddenly, feeling as if it was completely gone. Mustering the strength to sit up, I checked myself for the mess I was sure I was going to have to clean up. However, there was nothing there besides my own mess. My eyes flitted to Konshu who, while still missing the garments that usually adorned his lower half, no longer had a dick.

Questions started to materialise in my mind, and I wanted to babble them all out. However, Konshu seemed to beat me to it.

“It’s magic. Anything that comes from it is magic. I can summon it and get rid of it as I please.”

Well… that was all of my questions answered.

I did my best to reach down without falling off the bed, picking up my shirt and using it to gently pat my thighs dry. Eventually, I managed to get myself below the covers without having to get up either.

“You must be tired Scarab, I’ll leave you be,” there was something in his voice that was so much kinder than you had ever heard before, yet somehow it seemed to sound the same as it always did.

“Thanks… Konshu…” I mumbled, pulling the duvet up to my chin and curling my legs towards my stomach slightly. This was gonna hurt in the morning, you could already tell. In an unpleasant surprise that really shouldn’t have been a surprise at all, I realised that I was going to have to get up to flick the lights off, close the curtains and the door.

Before a groan had the chance to escape my mouth, I heard the sound of the curtains being drawn. Turning my head slightly I could see Konshu, making sure they were fully shut. Then, he made his way towards the door, flicking the lights out and turning closing the door behind him without a single word. I know full well he could’ve just dissipated and probably did as soon as he was outside the door.

Warmth from both the actions of the god and the duvet around you started to seep into your body and after minutes, you were no longer awake.

[threadsun]

Ok, here is the entire intro fic in one piece, enjoy!

You still can’t fucking believe you’re doing this, how did you get here again? Oh, right, the letter. Not a letter in your mailbox, or even under the front door, no, that would make too much sense. This letter was tucked safely under your pillow next to a concerningly sticky spot right next to your head. The letter was about your dad, he had recently passed and he left you his house and his whole ass cult in his will. No, really, in the will it says “and my whole ass cult” Apparently your father had a sense of humor

Your mother warned you not to go, urging you to come with her to flee the country, but something about this was too insane to not delve into. You also felt bad for all those poor people your father must have tricked, people don’t just decide to move to a commune because they’re in a good place in life, maybe you could help them out, change some lives. Or maybe the thought of having a whole town under your control sounded just a little too good to pass up. Either way, you packed everything important in a few bags and suitcases and plugged the address into your GPS

It was a few hours drive, and your car was making some concerning noises an hour or so out, but you pressed on, hoping this little town had a mechanic. You manage to get your car to pull through just long enough to get you into town and into a gas station parking space. You noticed the gas station had clearly seen better days, not because it was dirty at all, but because of how old it looked, the pumps didn’t even have card readers on them

While looking around, wondering just what you should do next, you read the sign of the shop right next door “Jo’s Repair Shop” You guessed it was common sense to have a repair shop right next to a gas station. As you walk over you spot a guy on his smoke break, you’d hate to bother him but you did need your car looked at. Yep, that’s it, that's the only reason, it’s not just your excuse to talk to the handsome stranger, definitely not, that would be silly. Oh wow, he’s built like a brick house, can you even talk to this guy? Oh, fuck he’s looking at you, quick, just don’t be weird

“Howdy” Howdy? Your one job was to be normal and you open with Howdy??? Wait, he laughed, god he sounds nice, at least he thinks you’re funny instead of stupid. You ask that after his break he looks at your car because of the noise it keeps making “Oh, that was your car? I thought someone was killing a dog out here” He chuckles and you can’t help but feel a bit flustered, you can’t tell if the feeling comes from having made that noise on the road for about an hour now, or because of how nice his voice was to listen to

He tells you it’s no trouble and puts out his cig, saying “I really need to quit anyhow” before letting you lead the way to your car. He gives your car a good once over before looking back at you “Well, I’ll be honest with you, it’s a miracle you got this far, doll. Your breaks are shot and your engine almost looks like it’s been cut with something. Sorry to say, but I don’t think I can get her up and running again, at least not cheaper than just buying a new car”

Great, just great, moving into a new town with no car, awesome. You sigh and thank him for the trouble, asking how much he wanted for the once over. He tilts his head “How much? I just looked at it, doll you don’t gotta pay me anything” …Doll? Doll??? Is this man trying to kill you? It didn’t register the first time he said it but it sure is now. You stutter out a thank you and ask how far out the founder’s house is “Oh…uh, from here it’s about a mile, but there’s not much of a reason to go. The founder died about a week ago” His eyes glaze over as he speaks, like he’s not even here. You tell him you know about your father’s recent passing, and apologize for bringing it up, saying he clearly meant more to him than he ever did to you

Joseph takes a moment, you can almost hear him trying to grind the rust off the gears in his head “Wait, father, like…like he’s your dad? Or was, I guess, but you’re-you…you’re the founder’s kid?” You have to stifle a laugh before confirming that yes, your dad was indeed your dad “...Holy shit-uh, sorry, I shouldn’t cuss in front of you, unless you want me to? God, you saw me smoke” He runs his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down “Sorry, let’s start over. I’m Joseph, it’s an honor to meet you, your grace”

You’re a little taken aback by his shift in tone but also a bit flattered. You tell him your name and that it’s nice to meet him as well, not missing the small shudder that runs through him when you say his name. He quietly says your name, testing how it feels on his tongue, the way he looks at you when he says it sends up to your cheeks “Well since you’re moving in you probably have quite a bit in your trunk, so we’ll need someone to move it. I mean, I don’t have a doubt everyone in town would pitch in to help you out but you look a little overwhelmed already”

You nod, you’ve only been here for about fifteen-thirty minutes and you’re already a bit shaken, the long drive here probably wasn’t helping things “Hm, why don’t I take you over to Laurent’s place? The actual restaurant is closed because Jean broke his arm but the bakery and frozen section are still open. We’ll get some food in you and I’ll talk to Berry about bringing his car over to haul your stuff” You agree, thanking him for all the trouble, he just laughs, and you can’t help be notice just how fake his other one’s sounded in comparison “If this is trouble I’d love to see what you think doing someone a favor is. Now come on, let’s get you something to eat” You make sure to lock your car before walking off with your new acquaintance, still nervous but excited to see where today will take you

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The bell above the restaurant’s door rings as Joseph holds it open for you, the wonderful smell of freshly baked bread and something sweet surrounding you as you walk in. It’s a quaint little restaurant, more the size of a cafe than anything. A few booths and tables are scattered about in an area off to the side from the main counter, above which are prices for various frozen treats, and below are display cases for baked goods

Behind the counter is a very… normal-looking man. You don’t mean that as an insult it’s just the best way you can describe him at first glance, besides being ginger “Hey, Berry, someone sick or something? You usually don’t run the counter” The man behind the counter, who you now know as Berry, just shrugs “I thought I’d take Mariah’s shift, something told me today would be rather interesting. Who’s this?” As he looks at you you can feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up, you swear you’ve heard his voice before

“Oh, right, Berry this is the founder’s child” The way his eyes widen almost looks practiced “Really? Well, welcome to Laurent’s Place. Would you like some froyo? I’ve actually been working on a new flavor just for you” You try to decline his offer as politely as you can, saying you’d prefer something warm. Berry pouts at this “Oh, well maybe next time. As for warm foods, I’m afraid Jean’s still in his cast after the scene at the funeral. I’ll talk to Rory about making something, I’m sure he wouldn't mind if it’s for you” You could swear his smile got a bit wider when he talked about whatever incident left one of the chefs in a cast, but you shake it off, there’s no way, right?

Berry exits through a door to what you can only assume would be a kitchen as Joseph walks you to one of the empty tables “...So, I know you haven’t been here long, but do you like what you’ve seen so far? The town, I mean, you know I-I wasn’t talking about me or anything, just, um, yeah” Poor guy, you can tell he’s nervous, his blush starting to spread to his ears at his clunky attempt at small talk

You give him a reassuring smile and say everything you’ve seen so far has been great, the people too. His smile is so wide, it’s like he just can’t contain how happy he is. He looks away bashfully and you notice just how small he looks like this, just how cute he is burying as much of his face as he can in the hand he’s propped up on the table. You didn’t have long to admire his blush, his face paling as he saw Berry bringing you food over

“Here you are! Hope you like them” Berry sets a stack of pancakes on the table, made exactly how you like them. It’s almost scary how perfect they look, and taste you find out as you take an experimental bite. You thank Berry and give your compliments to the chef “Of course, I’ll let him know” Berry turns to leave before Joseph stops him “Actually, I know you’re busy today but their car broke down and I was hoping you’d help haul their stuff to the founder’s house, or, old house, I guess”

Berry’s eyes light up at this “Of course, anything for the child of prophecy. I’ll get on that right now” Joseph stands up a bit too quickly “I’ll come too! I mean, you know, cuz I know where their car is” You only now realize how pale Jo’s face gets while talking to Berry, how tense he seems. You tell the two that you’ll need a minute to finish your food “Oh, don’t worry, we can handle it just fine. You just relax here while we go move your things, we won’t look into anything, promise” The way Berry says it is almost sarcastic, like he’s just waiting for you to call him out on it. You just nod and thank them for the help

Berry sticks his head in the back and yells something before leaving with Joseph to move your things for you…to move your things for you. Wait, why the fuck would you ever agree to that? This is nuts, you don’t fucking know these people why do you just keep saying yes to them??? Because they’re hot. Yeah, ok, what’s a good reason you keep saying yes? … Yeah, that’s what you thought. God damn it, at least the pancakes are good, a bit salty but it’s a welcome addition to be sure

Everything just keeps happening, it’s a little hard to keep up. Most of your day has been on the road in your own little world, only stopping once or twice for gas and bathroom breaks. While this all sounded new and existing on paper it’s a little terrifying in practice, you’re already getting a little homesick, though the pancakes do taste like the ones your mom made for you. Yeah, your mom’s awesome, you wish there was just one familiar face around here. As you’re about halfway done with your stack the front door rings

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You hear the front door ring as another customer walks in and orders their “usual” from who you can only assume to be…oh fuck, what did Berry say their name was? Tori? No, damn, this is a small town you have to get better at names. Before you can ponder what truly is in a name you hear the customer walking towards you. They look familiar, but you can’t quite place why. They seem to be just following their routine as they sit down in the booth across from you, not even looking up to see if it was taken

You just sit there a moment before clearing your throat in an attempt to get their attention “Hm? Oh, oh gosh, I-I’m so sorry! I wasn’t even looking, I just always sit here to wait, I’m so sorry” You tell them it’s fine, asking them if the Monday fog is still hanging around. A nervous laugh escapes them “Y-Yeah, you know how it is, um…oh, shit. I’m so sorry, but I can’t seem to remember your name” You explain how you don’t think you’ve ever met before and tell them your name

Their eyes go wide and they clutch their chest, you think something’s wrong until they start fumbling inside their shirt and pull out a necklace. That necklace, holy shit, the necklace, the red hair, the freckles, that cute little stutter, it’s Ian! Words begin to fly out of your mouth at record pace, asking how he’s been, what he’s been up to, if his mom’s still a bitch, and apologizing for not recognizing him sooner. Ian just sits there, his mouth opening and closing, as if trying to say something but nothing comes out

Then he starts to cry, he tries to keep it in but fails miserably, he never could hold his tears back. You get up and move to his side of the booth, rubbing his back like you always did when he was upset, and just like back then he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your shoulder. You let him cry it out for a while until he calms down “You…you don’t hate me?” He croaks out. You explain to him that you’ve never hated him, and that it would be a little silly for little you to ask him out if you did. He laughs, sounding relieved “Ye-yeah, I guess so, huh? But…if you didn’t hate me, why did you leave?”

You explain that you’re not really sure why you had to leave, all you remember is your mom putting you into the car when it was dark and driving as fast as she could. Ian’s eyes darken slightly “Oh…so it’s her fault. Huh, well, at least you’re back now. Oh, sorry!” His hands recoil from your waist, almost as if the touch had burned him, and he straightens up “Sor-sorry, I wasn’t, it’s just that, it-it’s been so long, I just-” You cut him off and tell him it’s fine, remembering that he will just keep going until you stop him

“Right, um, well here, let me pay for your food. It’s the least I could do” You go to decline when you hear “Ian, your order’s ready” You stand up to let him out of the booth to grab his box of donuts “Um, hey, are you sticking around for a while? I-I’d love to keep talking but I have to get these back to set, and get my makeup on again, why does Shaun keep making his monsters covered in fur? Uh, do you think we can talk again?” You tell him you’re here to stay and you’d love to catch up sometime “Really? Awesome! Well, I need to go but I’ll see you later, bye!” The poor guy nearly slams into the door from his excitement before turning around and pushing it open with his back

You smile to yourself as you eat, reminiscing on just how much has changed, and just how much really hasn’t. Ian’s still a bit of a mess, and everything still looks pretty old, except this restaurant which looks pretty modern all things considered. You always thought your little kindergarten boyfriend was lost to time, but there he was, a full-grown man now. Wait, was Ian a man? Looking back on things he had some solid egg vibes, oh fuck you didn’t even ask for his pronouns, their pronouns? Oh damn it, have you been assuming people's genders this whole time? When did all your pancakes end up in your stomach? How long have you been looking at this empty plate?!

Ok, ok, fuck, no, you’re ok, everyone’s fine, nobody died. Just take a deep breath in…and out. Ok, you’ll just ask them for their pronouns later, you’re usually good about this, maybe how old everything looks is making you assume shit? Who knows, either way, you need to pay for those delicious pancakes so you get up and head over to the counter. There’s a register so it’s probably safe to assume this is where you pay, and you are a bit curious as to who apparently made your pancakes. After a moment someone in a similar uniform to Berry’s walks out of the door that leads to the kitchen, a basket of fresh rolls in their arms “Sorry for the wait, I couldn’t let these babies burn”

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The chef (baker?) puts the rolls in their spot and straightens back up to look at you “Can I help you?” Now that you can see their face properly you notice they’re wearing face paint of some kind, must be good stuff too, it’s such a bright pink but it doesn’t look cakey at all, ironic for a baker “Are you gonna order something or are you just going to stare at me?” You snap out of your little trance, apologizing for staring and asking how much for the pancakes

they tilt their head in confusion “Uh, unless I made another stack in my sleep Ian just paid for them, you don’t owe me anything” You feel your face get hot, both from how awkward this interaction was getting and the fact that you let them pay for you like that. You ask how much it was so you can pay Ian back later. Rory chuckles at this “Don’t worry, they were about five bucks, nothing to sweat over. Besides, Ian’s loaded nowadays, but if you are gonna have a heart attack over it could you do it outside? I really don’t feel like getting the mop out”

You chuckle, appreciating their attempt to lighten the mood. You tell them you’ll make sure to reschedule your heart attack for a later date and ask for their name “Damn, you really are new, huh? I’m Rory, Rory Rainberry, pleasure to meet you…?” You tell them your name, and then tell them your full name to mimic them “Huh, so it really is you. Everyone was talking about how you were gonna come back after the founder died but I was a bit skeptical. Glad to have you here though, you seem alright, as long as you give all this your best shot I’m sure you’ll do fine”

You can feel a bit of weight come off your shoulders as they speak, the way they talk making it seem like they’re an old friend rather than some stranger. You thank them for the assurance, telling them that today’s already been a bit of a whirlwind and you’ve only just gotten here “Yeah, that’s how folks here can be. A word of advice? Don’t be afraid to say no, you’re the boss now and everyone wants a piece of you, but they would never go against direct orders, especially if you can get Bo back in shape”

You ask who Bo is “The founder’s guard dog, poor thing’s been wasting away ever since he passed. Don’t be fooled when you see him though, at peak strength he can break through bone, just ask Jean'' Your eyes widen, Berry had mentioned someone in a cast but you just assumed they fell or something, a bit of a silly thought looking back on it but being around that guy was making your fight or flight go off a bit more than usual so you think it’s fair that you weren’t really pondering it before. You ask if this Jean is ok “Oh, yeah, he’s still in the cast but he’s back to doing shoots. Won’t be in the kitchen for a while which has its ups and downs''

You ask how so “Well, up side, I don’t have to deal with him telling me what to do. He’s an alright guy but man is he bossy in the kitchen. The downside is now Berry’s coming to me to pick up the slack, but up side to the down side, he does keep giving me free froyo” You ask him what flavor is his favorite “Oh, well you can’t get it. It’s a special flavor he saves for employees, says he puts his “secret sauce” into it, whatever that means'' You get an odd feeling from the phrase “Berry’s secret sauce” but choose to brush it off for now

You’re about to ask them another question when the front door rings, it’s only now that you realize you’ve been keeping Rory from actually doing their job, though something tells you they don’t mind. You turn to see who walked in only to be met with possibly the largest chest you’ve ever seen, you hear a chuckle and look up to see its source. They’re big, like, Joseph big, how many hulks does this town have? You stutter out an apology and step to the side, telling them you weren’t ordering anything

“Oh, you’re fine, I completely understand. It’s hard not to get roped into conversation with Rory” The way they say Rory sends a shiver down your spine, you can only imagine what it does to them. Well, no, you can see the puddle Rory’s melted into clear as day. Where a confident slightly sassy guy once stood is now a blushing mess. Rory takes a strand of hair between their fingers and starts to twirl it “Hi” You don’t think you’ve ever heard a word filled with more puppy love in your life

The large person leans over the counter and gives Rory a quick kiss, melting the last little bit of composure they had “I’m going to go visit Jean, he just got back from getting his cast readjusted and I thought I’d get him some coffee cake. Wanna come? I’m sure he’d be happy to see you” Rory opens their mouth to respond before their face falls. They sigh “No, I’m the only one here right now and if I close early again Berry might actually kill me” The stranger presses on, kissing Rory’s cheek “Come on, you know I’d never let anyone hurt you” Rory giggles, the kiss on their cheek tilting their head towards you

You suddenly realize that you’ve just been staring at this couple for some time now and you can feel your face getting hot again. You internally smack yourself for just gawking at these two but Rory doesn’t look offended, if anything they look pleased with themself, maybe even enjoying your voyeurism. No, that’s stupid, they’re probably just laughing at you in their head. Why is everyone in this town so hot?

“Oh, what if you take them with you? Jean’s been talking about seeing them again since forever” The stranger looks over to you, giving you a once over “...Who is that?” Rory giggles again “That’s the founder’s kid” The stranger’s eyes widen “Oh, golly, forgive me your grace, I’ve never seen a description of what you look like” You tell them it’s fine and that you look pretty different from what you did all those years ago anyhow “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Sunny Day Jack, but everyone just calls me Jack” You tell them that it’s nice to meet them and give them your name

Rory reaches down into the display case and puts a few pieces of coffee cake into a bag and hands it to Jack, giving them a kiss on the cheek “As much as I’d love you to stay you shouldn’t keep Jean waiting, you know how fussy he gets. I’ll meet up with you after my shift, ok?” Jack leans down and gives Rory a proper kiss, melting them all over again “Alright, can’t wait sunshine. Your grace, would you like to join me?” You nod, unsure of what else to do with your time, and a bit curious about this Jean guy. You swear you remember that name but you can’t quite put a face to it. Jack holds the door for you and you two start to walk to Jean’s house “So, what’s your favorite color?”

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Favorite color? You can’t help but ask them why that’s the first question they ask you “Someone’s favorite color can say a lot about them, and it’s something most people know off the top of their head. It also probably comes from how many kids I meet” You tell them you were wondering why they were so colorful “Oh, well that’s because I’m literally a clown. Though I guess all my bright colors do make me look like I’m from a cartoon, huh?” You two chuckle and you agree with them, saying that they’d make a great action figure

Jack laughs at this “Aww, you’re too kind, I’ll let you know if our merch team ever makes one. I’d love to see you play with me” A shiver runs up your spine as their voice dips into something lower, seductive even, before snapping back to his original tone “How’d you like Rory? He’s pretty great, right?” The tone shift makes your head spin for a second before responding, agreeing that Rory is nice to talk to “Yeah, he’s really sweet when you get to know him, he’d make a great harem member if I might be so bold” You chuckle and ask if he has a harem “Huh? Oh…you don’t know much about what leading the cult entails do you?”

Your face falls, that familiar feeling of anxiety pooling in your stomach. You ask him what he’s talking about “Well, there are a lot of things the leader is expected to do but one thing you’ll have to establish is who gets to be in your harem. People will flock to you once they all know you’re here and all of them want to please you. The harem is a system that makes sure people don’t do something stupid like try to have sex with you in public” You laugh, they don’t

You look at him for a moment before asking if he’s serious “Oh yeah, it was a real problem before the founder established his. If you’re still unsure who you’d like to be in it by week's end just pick someone you’re friends with to hold them off. Though make sure you tell them they’re just there because they're your friend, don’t wanna kill anyone now, do we?” even though you’re both outside in the afternoon sun you feel ice cold, you’d expected weird shit, it is a cult after all, but this is just something else. You can’t even tell if they’re kidding about your rejection killing someone, the way he says it is so flat, like they’re telling you the sky is blue or fire is hot

You tell them you’ll keep it in mind and you start to look around as you try to think of another conversation topic. As you do you notice all the houses look nearly identical, not an uncommon occurrence in neighborhoods to be sure, but it’s more than a little uncanny. Every now and again you see a group of children playing after school, all of them wave at Jack as you pass by. You remember them saying that they talked to a lot of kids and decide to ask them about it

“Oh, I’m the elementary teacher! Though I also do counseling for the older kids. It can be rough going through life alone, I just wanna be there them” It’s only when their voice drops do you realize they’ve been performing this whole time. Their voice has been light, almost bubbly all this time, but in that moment they sound so down to earth, like they really care about these kids. You can’t help but smile

“Oh, here we are!” Their voice regains its bouncy quality as he walks down someone’s driveway “Now, I’ll make sure to tell him who you are but don’t be surprised if he gives you a bit of a death glare when he sees you. Jean’s never been fond of newcomers” You thank them as they knock on Jean’s front door. It takes a minute but eventually the door opens, the man inside looks a bit awkward, having to cross his left arm over to open it. He gives you your warned death glare before it turns to something more confused “Hey Jean, I thought I’d bring you some coffee cake after your readjustment. This is-” Jean’s eyes widen and before they can get it out, Jean says your name

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You finally piece it together, Jean, spoiled bitch Jean. He was always nice to you but it was never really personal, like he didn’t really know what having friends meant. You greet him by name, commenting on how tall he’s gotten. Jean chuckles and welcomes you both in, as you walk inside your mouth starts to water at the smell coming from what you assume to be his kitchen. He holds out his left arm and you go in for a slightly awkward side hug

“It’s so good to finally see you again, how have you been?” You tell him you’ve been good and that it’s nice to see him too. Man, Jean has really changed from when you were kids. Where Ian still has a bit of a baby face Jean looks almost like he was sculpted. Sculpted? Really? One of the first things you point out is how hot your old friend is? Maybe a harem wouldn’t be too bad for you, when was the last time you got laid- “Your grace?” Jack places their hand on your shoulder and you snap out of your little daze

You shake your head slightly and apologize for staring, Jean simply chuckles “Oh, you’re fine. Please, sit” He gestures to his couch, the upholstery having a few claw marks on the armrests but otherwise looking rather new. As you sit down you hear a chirping sound from under the couch. A ball of white fur crawls from underneath the couch before hopping into your lap. Jean opens his mouth but then shuts it, seemingly mulling something over “Uh- Princess, get off there, you’re getting your hair all over them” You laugh and say it’s fine, your hand petting her soft fur

After a second Jean’s eyes widen “Oh, Jack, didn’t you and Shaun have that meeting today?” Jack almost flinches “Oh, shoot, that was today? I better get going then, uh, here’s the coffee cake, goodbye your grace” Jack sets the bag of coffee cake onto Jean’s side table before giving you a small bow. Once Jack leaves Jean closes the door with his back and sits next to you on the couch. You ask for the cat’s name “Huh? Oh, uh, Princess, I said it earlier, remember?” You tell him you remember his folks not letting him have a cat and that once he got one he probably named it out of spite, so, what’s its name? “...I just call her Fucker” You knew it!

Jean laughs “I guess you did, you were always the smart one” He goes to touch your hand but Fucker bats it away before rolling onto her back and purring in your lap. Jean’s face goes from serene to pissed to something bashful all within a few seconds. He sighs “You always did have a way with animals” You thank him, actually, while you’re at it you ask him if he’s still cool with he/him stuff “Yeah, do you go by anything different now?” You tell him your pronouns “Alright, I’ll make sure to pass it on” His tone is full of confidence before seemingly remembering something “I-I mean, if you want me to”

The way he just talked sounded so much like Ian that you could swear he’s making fun of them, but he’s not making any faces or anything so it comes off as oddly genuine. Maybe they hang out now? A lot of time has passed, surely Jean’s bullying has toned down to some extent. You tell Jean there’s actually something you wanted to ask him “Oh? Well, whatever it is I don’t judge. You can tell me anything”

Jean leans forward slightly, looking up at you through batting eyelashes. You tell him that you remember his family being pretty close with your dad and ask if he can tell you anything about what running this place actually means. Jean’s face falls for just a moment before perking up again “Of course I can, I was one of the people closest to the founder before he died, what would you like to know?” You ask about your every day, if there’s a schedule you have to follow

“There’s no strict schedule except for the weekly sermons and any speeches or appearances you have to make” You ask what the sermons are like “A bit bloody if we find a decenter but other than that it’s just us praising your name. Except for the ones at the start of the month, that’s when the founder would make predictions of what would happen during that month” You can feel the blood start to drain from your face. You ask what happens when the predictions are wrong, Jean looks at you like you’ve just admitted to liking pineapple on pizza “They aren’t? They are predictions from our god, they are never wrong. If you’re worried about it, don’t be. You’re our god taken human form, I’m sure your predictions will be the best yet”

You feel like someone just ran up to you and punched you square in the diaphragm, knocking all the wind out of you. Fucker decides you’re not petting her good enough and starts rubbing her face on your shaking hand. You ask what he’s talking about, Jean sighs “That awful woman didn’t tell you anything, did she?” He takes one of your hands in his good one, he starts by saying your name “You are our god incarnate, the one who will raise us from the dark times after our founder fell. You are our future”

It feels like the whole world is slowly spinning around you, your brain desperately trying to make sense of all of this. You can feel your panic start to bubble to the surface, starting in your chest and spreading. You can feel it crawl down your arms and legs and you don’t know where you’re gonna go but you can’t be here-...He’s petting you. The long delicate fingers of Jean’s left hand weave into your hair to scratch your scalp “It’s ok, you’re ok, everything is going to be just fine” He gently places his hand on your left shoulder, moving you to rest your head on his chest

You feel yourself melt slightly, enough of your stiffness leaving you for you to wrap your arms around him “I want you to focus on my voice, ok? It’s just us here, you don’t have to worry about any of that right now. Can you tell me something you can smell” You tell him his cologne, a deep cinnamon mixed with some kind of wood. You can smell the faintest whisper of smoke on him too, it’s nice, complementing his cologne. You also pick back up on the smell from the kitchen, now that you’re focusing on it you can tell it’s some kind of roasted chicken. You breathe out a small laugh as you realize your mouth is watering

“Good, very good. You’re doing such a good job for me” Something about his praise mixed with him petting you like this makes you feel warm. It’s not like the fiery heat of embarrassment you felt earlier in the day, it’s softer, it feels nice, almost too nice. His hand moves down to your back, slowly rubbing up and down, you’re reminded of how you did this for Ian back at the restaurant, did it feel this good for him too? You hardly even know Jean but something about him feels so safe, so familiar in all this chaos. A small chuckle escapes you as Fucker butts her head against your leg, clearly miffed you’re not giving her all your attention

“There you go, just relax into me. You’re so cute like this” His hand slides up a bit higher than before, his thumb brushing the base of your neck. Now that he’s made you focus in on your senses everything just feels so much…bigger than it did a few minutes ago “You know, if you’re this worried about doing a good job, I could help you. Like I said, I was really close with your dad. I could be really close to you too” He leans his head down just a bit, his lips brushing over your ear making you shiver “Or maybe even closer” Jean’s hand moves to your cheek, cupping your face gently. He tilts his head, you can feel his hot breath on your lips and-DING DONG

Both of you damn near jump out of your skin as the doorbell rings. Jean looks to the door, to you, and back to the door. He lets out a groan as he gets up to answer it. He just stands there, knob in hand, for a second to collect himself before opening it “How can I-...oh, it’s you” A deep voice comes from beyond the doorway “It’s meeee!” Jean huffs “What are you doing here? Don’t you have some murder fest to be filming?” The voice chuckles “Well, I did, but then Jack came and told me he was sorry for being late for our meeting that starts a week from now. And after he told me their grace was left here all alone with you? How could not come pay you a visit?”

Jean looks back over to you before trying to close the door, the person from outside easily keeping it open “This is my house, Shaun you can’t just barge in here like this!” Shaun steps inside so you can now properly see how massive they are. They’re not as tall as Jack or Joseph but they seem a bit wider? Not chubby, just wider, maybe it’s bone structure? Maybe it’s Maybelline. Oh shut the fuck up

“Listen, we’re allowed to do whatever is needed if there’s an emergency our leader needs to take care of remember? Or are you going to admit you had no good reason to take the founder away every time I wanted him to review my edits?” Jean stutters on his response “Hey, it’s not my fault the founder was such a good taste tester. What else was I supposed to do? Just feed the public food before it’s perfect? What kind of a man do you think I am Shaun?” Shaun laughs again, they have a good laugh, a deep warm belly laugh, even in this rather tense situation “I’d tell you, but I’d rather not use that kind of language around their grace, speaking of” Shaun turns to you “I wasn’t kidding earlier, there really is something you need to take care of. Mind coming with me your grace?”

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You shake your head, trying to get out of the weird headspace you were just in before agreeing. As you stand from the couch your legs feel like jelly, honestly your whole body feels a bit sluggish after your panic attack. Jean’s eyes fill with fear as you start to walk to Shaun “W-Wait! You can’t go yet, you, um, you haven’t had any tea yet! If you just give me a second I’ll-” You tell Jean you’d love to stay but you can’t if there’s an emergency “Thank you your grace, at least someone here has there head screwed on right”

You’re almost out the door when you turn to say one last goodbye to Jean, he looks dazed, like he’s trying to remember which way is up. You go to ask him if he’s ok but Shaun takes your hand, leading you down the road to wherever this emergency is. You two run down the road for a minute or two before slowing down to a walk. You ask them why you’re slowing down “Well, there is an emergency but you’re gonna need Nick there with you to deal with him. So I figure, why rush? Nick won’t be on set for another fifteen” You ask them why you started running in the first place

“You think I was leaving you in that house? No way in hell. I mean, I’m sure you can handle yourself but new faces are Jean’s specialty. Any longer and I’m sure he’d have convinced you to add him to your harem” Why is everyone talking about your harem? You tell them Jean was just trying to help you after you started panicking “And what made you start panicking?” You were asking Jean questions when he told you were like actually a god and how you were super important and…oh, oh fuck

“Yeah, that’s Jean for ya. Damn snake, he’s got almost the whole town’s pity after his accident too. Don’t worry, anyone that actually knows him knows how fucking awful he is” You ask how many people actually know him, Shaun’s face falls “Not nearly enough” They clear their throat before attempting to lighten the mood “But that’s enough of that, how are you holding up? Today’s probably been a lot huh?” You sigh and agree, you’ve already met so many people, and you’re bound to meet so many more

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, most people around here are in bed by nine so everyone’s already starting to wind down for the day. People don’t fully know you’re here yet so you have until at least tomorrow before shit gets crazy” You ask him about the emergency “Oh, well, yeah ok things are gonna get a little crazy tonight but Bo is pretty low energy these days so…I mean that’s not a good thing, but he’ll be easier to manage”

You ask how Bo’s doing “Well, he’s still kicking, so there’s that” Is that really the best news about him? Shaun sighs “Yeah, poor guy, hasn’t eaten anything since the funeral” You ask how long ago that was “About a week now, Nick’s been able to get him to drink a bit of water but that’s about it” You ask how he’s still alive “The guy’s strong, even like that he’ll still growl at anyone who tries to enter the founder’s room that isn’t Nick. That’s why I’m not sending you in there without him”

You give Shaun your thanks and you two walk in silence until Shaun takes a turn off of the cobble road. You follow his lead and eventually you get to a small filming set over by the forest. Wait, film set, wasn’t- “Hey, Ian, I’m back!” “Oh thank god, Shaun I love you man but you can’t just leave me in charge like…oh” You greet Ian as he realizes you’re there “Uh, hi, hello, how-uh shit how are you?” You give a shrug and tell him you’re fine “Hey, how come you aren’t in costume yet?” Ian sighs “Sorry Shaun but as soon as you left Daniel damn near set the forest on fire with one of the props” “Again? I swear, that kid has got to get it together”

It’s fascinating to see Ian talk to Shaun like this, he’s so casual about it, so fluent. Who is this man and what has he done with your Ian? Wait, your Ian? Ah, shut up shut up! “Hey, thought I’d swing by early. Hope that’s cool”

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You turn to see, well, an e-boy. You don’t mean it in a rude way, that's just the best way you can describe this guy “Nick! Perfect timing, change of plans. I’ll get your opinion on my latest edit later. Do you think you could take their grace to see Bo?” Nick’s eyes light up when Shaun calls you your grace but they otherwise hold their cool expression “Of course, follow me your grace” Nick gives you a little bow before turning to leave “W-Wait, you’re already leaving?”

You turn back to tell Ian you have to go, but you’d love to hang out later “Yeah, and besides we gotta get you into costume if we wanna stay on schedule” Ian visibly relaxes a bit “Oh, ok, I’ll see you later then” You bid them farewell and head off to go see Bo. You two walk in silence for a while when you hear a clinking sound, it’s not metallic, it kinda sounds like if you knocked two pieces of porcelain together. The sound comes from Nick’s pocket and you ask him if that’s his fidget toy

“Hm? O-Oh, yeah…sorry” You tell them it’s fine, whatever helps you get through the day, huh? “Heh, yeah” …Cool, cool cool cool, this conversation is going great. You decide now’s a good a time as ever to ask their pronouns “He/him, you?” You tell him your pronouns “Cool, cool” Very cool, so cool, you’re so very cool right now and definitely not wondering if he hates you, that would be silly…Yeah, ok, this is a bit silly. You’re sure this guy thinks you’re fine, you’re just panicking again. Just breathe. Geez, how many anxiety attacks can a person have in a day? Why can’t that number be zero?

“Hey, are you alright?” You tell him you’re fine, just stressing out over…everything, you guess "Damn, god's relatable" That manages to get a laugh out of both of you "Sorry, I guess I just wasn't expecting that. It's cool though, nice to know I'm not the only nervous one" Wait, he’s nervous? Nick pauses for a second "...I'm seeing god for the first time since I was seven, yeah, I'm a little nervous" He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you guess it kind of is. These people think you’re a big deal, it would be weirder if they weren't nervous around you

You tell him that there's no reason to be nervous, you don't bite "Aw, I was looking forward to that" Nick slaps his hand over his mouth "I am…so sorry. I can't turn it off" You laugh and tell him you get it, saying you do stuff like that all the time “Right, thank you your grace, you’re too kind” You want to correct him and say that that’s the normal response but you don’t know if that’s safe. It’s gonna be your job to pretend to be god now, fuck, how are you even gonna do that? Ok, you can question that later, right now you need more info

You ask him about Bo "Oh, yeah, he drank some water yesterday. He's not doing great but I'm sure once he meets you he'll be on the mend. He just needs a new purpose, a new master, I'm sure of it" His reasoning is pretty good but he sounds more like he's trying to convince himself than you. You tell him you're sure he'll be fine, and that it sounds like he's been doing a great job taking care of him. Not everyone's strong enough to take care of a dog like that. You watch his face turn from as pale as porcelain to firetruck red "Huh…thank you your grace"

As you continue to walk your eyes are drawn by the giant fucking house in front of you. Holy shit "Yeah, it's pretty big, huh? You like it?" You shake off your surprise and tell him it's massive "Yeah, don't know how the founder lived there personally. All that space would drive me up the wall" …what?

That's your fucking house? Nick chuckles "What you and the house get up to is none of my business but I'd say so" you're pulled from your bewilderment when you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up "Well hey there, and here I was thinking you'd never show up" You turn to see Berry who is…right next to you? How did he "We managed to get everything inside but we couldn't bring it into your room with Bo in there"

You thank him and take a half step back to try and get him out of your bubble but he steps with you staying uncomfortably close. You try to look for anything that isn't Berry to focus on when you see Joseph leaned up against the house. You wave over to him to catch his attention, he seems to flinch at your acknowledgement and gives you a meek wave in return "Well it's a good thing you showed up when you did, that mutt probably would have keeled over by tomorrow if you didn't show up"

You hear the clinking of Nick's fidget toy getting louder but he doesn't say anything. You tell Berry Bo sounds like a strong dog and probably could have held out a little longer. You're not sure if you believe yourself on that one but Nick seems to relax as you say it "Huh, if you say so your grace" Nick starts walking towards the house and you follow him, thankful for the out "He might growl at you but as long as I'm here with you he won't bite" Nick opens one of the front doors for you, the heavy thunk it makes as it closes making you wonder if the damn thing was made of stone. You two walk up a flight of stairs and down a hallway before he stops in front of a door, your things neatly stacked next to it

"Ready?" As you'll ever be. Nick opens the door and his voice becomes a bit softer "Hey Bo, how are you feeling?" You hear a growl and then a voice? "Why is he here?" Is there someone in Bo's room? "Huh? Oh, Berry and Joseph were just delivering their grace’s things" You look past Nick to see someone lying on the bed, their voice is dull and hoarse "Their grace? They're here?" Nick opens the door fully and you finally see it, their ears and tail, their voice, the way you can see the bones in their face from here, Bo

He perks up as you say his name “Your grace?” You can tell his energy is low and yet he spends whatever he has left into wagging his tail for you. You have to walk to the other side of the bed to get a proper look at him, he looks sick, pale and boney where you’re sure he was once full of life. You greet him, telling him your name before extending your hand to him to sniff, you see his face drop as he does “Why…why do you smell like him?” You ask who “Berry, I mean, not all the time, but sometimes he smells like that in the mornings” You can feel the blood drain from your face, no, no no no, don’t be silly

You tell Bo you probably just use the same soap or something, does he not like it? “Wha? No I…If it’s yours I like it” It’s only once Nick reenters the room do you notice he ever left, man he’s quiet. You see he’s holding a stick of jerky and ask Bo if he could maybe take a few bites, for you? Nick smiles at you and hands you the jerky “Mhm, I-I can do that…I’ll be good” You hold the jerky up to him as he takes a few bites. You can feel Nick’s excitement radiating off of him as you let Bo eat from your hand. He’s slow, chewing each bite thoroughly before taking another, only eating a bit before he stops

“I’m sorry, I feel so full already” You tell him it’s ok, gently patting his head as you tell him he did such a good job for you. You smile as you hear his tail thumping on the bed behind him “Thank you your grace” You see him start to tear up “Please…don’t go” You cup his cheek with your hand and tell him you’re here to stay, which means he needs to get better for you, deal? He giggles “Deal”

I reread the whole thing and it's still so good!!

[hirayaaraw]

Unbreakable Ties 6: In A Heartbeat

idol!Jaehyun x OC

Genre: Childhood Friends to Lovers; slow burn; angst

Note: After a long hiatus, I am back. I am sorry it took long. I will try to update more.

Tags: @yincotton @26zcl @ahtisa02 @joepomonerof @painted-hills @ukiyoneo @ourbeautifulaffair @wintersoulwarrior

Jung Jaehyun is a persistent man. If he says he will do it, expect results. That attitude catapulted him into stardom. As much as his attitude is desirable, Eunhye is hating it right now.

Jaehyun rushed to his car after the call. Saying goodbye to his mom and leaving her with the poor plant. Now, he is being cooed by her younger cousins and elders of the family. It became Jaehyun's fan meeting.

Apparently, her younger cousins are NCT fans while the elders are big fans of his dramas. Albums were signed left and right. Jaehyun enthusiastically entertained them and everyone congratulated you for pulling a guy like him.

In which Jaehyun replied, 'It's the other way around. I am the luckiest to have her.' Jaehyun said it brightly with his dimples showing. She almost forgot that they are pretending.

Just like their middle school and high school days, Eunhye watched him to be admired by everyone. He really has the star quality even kids are drawn to him.

"If Auntie Eunhye is your girlfriend, then can I call you Uncle?" Jaehyun lowered himself to be at eye level with her niece.

"Of course! I can be your Uncle Jae." The kid giggled and asked to be carried which Jaehyun obliged. A pain struck to her heart. That could be her son.

'You made the right decision.' She reminded herself. Eunhye carefully listed down his achievements in her mind and reminded herself that Jaehyun wouldn't reach those if things didn't go as she planned.

One night, one mistake shouldn't ruin his life. Eunhye knew Jaehyun worked hard to debut. Call her a martry or dumb but she would do it again in a heartbeat for her bestfriend.

Jaehyun saw the change of emotion on her face. He brought down her niece and went to her.

"Are you okay?" She nodded and tried to blink her tears away. Jaehyun noticed her tired eyes. "Should we go home?"

Eunhye nodded as a reply. They bid goodbye and made Jaehyun promise that he will come visit again. He happily agreed while holding her hand tightly.

"You shouldn't make that promise." Eunhye said once they are inside his car. She knew it was wrong to lash out to Jaehyun if he doesn't know anything.

"When did I break a promise?" Jaehyun scoffed when he sense her biting tone. She looked at the window while silently wiping her tears. Eunhye remembers how he will drop or do anything he can if she needs him. "You shouldn't be talking about promises if you ask me."

And it breaks her. Every pieces of her heart shattered. "Can you drop me off at my old house?"

She changed the topic. Jaehyun sighed as he failed to address the elephant in the room.

Once they reached her old house, they both alight from his car. Eunhye insist that she could handle it but Jaehyun stayed.

When they turned on the light, it was nothing compared to the bright and homey feeling of their childhood. Everything is so dim and lonely. Eunhye inspects each box trying to find something in the middle of the mess.

She smiled with loneliness. Eunhye brought it to Jaehyun and he noticed immediately what inside the box. His brows furrowed abruptly.

"Someone already bought the house. I won't be able to take everything so--"

"You are erasing everything about me." He held the box tightly. The box that contains their pictures, his gifts, and letters to her for every birthdays.

"Jaehyun..." She said his name lowly.

"11 years, Eunhye. For pete's sake, I waited for 11 years and this is all I got. Not even an explanation?" Jaehyun put down the box and turned his back to wipe his tears then faced her again. "I tried to contact you. Called your number, sent you thousand of message in facebook which you never opened, spoke to our high school friends, and even asked your college friends and professors but they all don't know."

Jaehyun rarely gets angry or cry but right now he is fuming angry and crying. She just stood in front of him calm as a sea but storm raging inside.

"Is it because of that night?" Jaehyun asked as this is the only reason he can think about.

"Why should we talk about something that happened a decade ago?"

"Stop ignoring my questions. I waited and lived miserably for 11 years without you." Jaehyun brushed his hair in frustration. "Do you know how it hurts to wait for someone you love when you never know if they will come back?"

Some people get their love confession in flattering way but Eunhye got hers in an argument. Eunhye blinked at him again and he groaned. She can hear him cursed himself for having the worse confession.

"We live in different worlds, Jae." He looked at her upon hearing her call him in his nickname. "We are meant to drift apart. You have the whole world in your palm and my world will be in Canada."

"And if I leave everything and come with you?" Eunhye felt her throat is hurting and eyes stinging from preventing herself to cry.

"You worked hard for all of these."

"For what? All of these but without you." Jaehyun laid his heart to her. Eunhye smiled bitterly hearing those words. Her early 20s self will never believe that she will hear those words years later.

"Don't destroy yourself for this." She said with finality. Eunhye picked up the box again and gave it to Jaehyun. "Leaving you still one of the best decisions I made."

Eunhye bought the earliest flight the next day. Fearing that she will crumble if she stays within Jaehyun's vicinity. Just like 11 years ago, Jaehyun woke up the next day confused. He went to her airbnb and to her old house but he couldn't find her. It's a repeat of his nightmare and he doesn't if he will be able to recover from this heartbreak.

2016

It hasn't been a year since Jaehyun debut as an idol under a group called NCT. Eunhye also started college that year in Seoul. Despite being in one city, they can't find a common availability to meet.

Jaehyun is in the middle of recording for their first mini album when his phone rings. It shows her name but he already told Eunhye that he will be recording so he declined. The phone rings again and for the third time he answers.

"Eunhye, I'll call in a bit. I am recor--"

"Hello! Is this the guardian of Lee Eunhye?" He freezed upon hearing a stranger's voice say her name. "You are on his emergency contact.

"What happened?" Jaehyun tried to be calmed but even his leader so him fidgeting and asked through sign if he is okay.

"Vehicular accident. She got a fractured arm but we will run more test to see if anything is wrong."

Jaehyun didn't waste anytime. He apologized to the producer and his teammates but he promised to give his best next recording.

When he arrived to the hospital and saw you lying in the bed of emergency room, he felt his knees weakened.

"What are you doing here? Your fans might see you."

"That should be my question. What are you doing here?" He put on a brave mask in front of her.

"Dumbass driver forgot to step on his break." Eunhye winced when she tried to move. Jaehyun immediately called a nurse just to check her.

When the nurse is gone, Eunhye laughed that made him frown because nothing is definitely funny about the situation.

"I can't believe we finally found a time to hang out and it's in an emergency room." Eunhye laughed in the absurdity of her thought but Jaehyun made a promise to himself to make time for her even if they have a busy schedule.

On that day, he realized that he will do anything for Eunhye in a heartbeat.