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wileys-russo · 11 months ago

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before the void (fresa’s version) II a.putellas

filling the void (one) filling the void (two)

so many of you sent me cute little thoughts and ideas about what you thought childhood was like for fresa and so to soften the blow of all the angst i've been posting, here they are as some cute little memories before the void (fresa’s version) II a.putellas

with the significant age gap and both her older daughters supposedly responsible eli would often leave you home alone with them when having to work the night shift, the extra money needed now as a single mother of three.

"can i have the one with the red lid now pequeña? por favor." alexia asked holding out her hand as you frowned, staring down at the series of small spice jars by your side.

grabbing the one you deemed correct you held it up to your sister who grinned. "muy bien, gracias fresa!" you giggled as she tickled your stomach and turned back to dinner.

"is it ready now?" you asked eagerly, swinging your legs where you were sat on the counter, at five years old you seemed to have an insatiable appetite and very little patience. "did i say it was ready?" your sister replied with an amused smile, the almost nineteen year old quirking an eyebrow.

"no." you sighed with a frown. "then no fresa it is not ready!" alexia laughed as again you huffed, hungry scowl deepening. "don't you remember hermanita if the wind changes and you're making an ugly face you get stuck like that forever?" alexia warned as you paled in fear and quickly forced a smile.

"much better." your sister ruffled your hair and gently grabbed you, helping you down from the counter. "can you put these on the table?" alexia held out three spoons as you nodded, taking them from her and darting away.

"done! now is it ready?" you collapsed tiredly into your sisters leg whose body vibrated with laughter. "soon. can you go get alba please nena?" alexia ran a hand through your hair staring down at you in amusement as you sagged against her.

"when i come back will it be done?" you asked hopefully as the older putellas rolled her eyes fondly, more than used to your questioning and impatient ways.

"sí pequeña, when you and alba get back it will be all ready." alexia promised as you perked up and tried to run off but the older girls hand held the collar of your shirt. "ale!" you whined trying to push her away.

"beso." your sister squatted down and tapped her cheek as you huffed but begrudgingly kissed her cheek, trying to run off again but her strong arms held you captive.

"did you just roll your eyes at me? no manners fresa!" alexia tutted, grinning as you squirmed and wriggled trying to slip out of her hold, whining and smacking at her arms to no avail.

"finish dinner, i'm starving." you gave up fighting and instead went limp, pouting up at her. "well i know alba snuck you cookies an hour ago so tell your worm to stop eating all your food! then you wouldn't be so hungry." alexia teased, poking at your stomach and kissing over your face before finally letting you go.

"tan impaciente fresa. vamos!" she playfully kicked your behind with a grin sending you stumbling forward as you shot her a glare as mean as you could manage but ran off before she could grab at or kick you again.

reaching up you pulled down on your middle sisters door handle, pushing it open and frowning at how dark it was inside, nose crinkling at the strange smells in her room.

"alba. alba!" you tried calling from the doorway, seeing a large lump under her covers as your fifteen year old sister was taking a nap, something your mami had warned you teenagers did sometimes when they were in a bad mood and going through something called 'puberty'.

"alba." you called again, wandering toward her bed and reaching up for the corner of the duvet, tugging on it as you were only met with an annoyed moan and a hand shooting out to push you away.

"dinners done, vamos!" you huffed impatiently, grabbing her now limp arm which hung off the edge of her bed and attempting to pull her out of bed with a grunt, failing miserably as she didn't move an inch.

"go away diablillo." your sister groaned, rolling over onto her other side as you pulled yourself up and onto her bed. "i'm hungry and we can't eat till you get up." you kicked at her under the covers only getting a tired grunt in reply.

"alba!" you scowled kicking her harder as her arm shot out again to shove you away, almost sending you tumbling off the bed as you caught yourself. "get up!" you shook her shoulder as she pushed your hand away, eyes still closed.

"now alba." you huffed, intending to hit her shoulder only as she rolled over again to try and pull you into bed with her your hand collected against her cheek with a rather loud smack and her eyes shot open as your widened in fear.

"muerto!" your sister growled as you leapt down from her bed, sprinting away and hearing her footsteps thunder after you. "ale!" you yelled as the eldest putellas frowned and you quickly hid behind her.

"nice bed hair idiota." alexia snickered as alba scowled and scraped her hair up into a bun, sending you a menacing glare where you peeked out.

"leave fresa alone and go sit down." alexia ordered pointing at the table, having started to dish up. "but she-" alba began to argue, falling silent at the hard look from her older sister and retreating to the table.

"i can do it!" you tugged on your sisters shorts as she grabbed both her bowl and yours, having already placed alba's down at the the table which the girl was hungrily digging into.

"be very careful por favor." alexia warned as she carefully handed you the bowl and you nodded, holding it in two hands and very slowly walking to the table. "alba!" alexia warned seeing the younger girl about to try and trip you over, her leg retreating with a huff.

"aqui." alexia took your bowl again and put it on the table as you climbed up onto a chair. "gracias." you smiled at your sister who sat down beside you, kissing her cheek and starting to eat as alba mumbled her own thanks among a mouthful of food.

"no you do it." alba argued with a shake of her head, collapsing down into the sofa as alexia held out a towel in her direction awhile later. "i made dinner! we're both supposed to help out when mami's at work." alexia reminded, a sharp crack echoing around the living room as the towel snapped against her younger sisters ankle.

"ow! puta. this is me helping, if i do it i might be tempted to drown her!" alba shrugged honestly as your eyes widened and you tugged again on alexia's shorts. "you do it. i don't wanna drown!" you begged as your eldest sister sighed but nodded.

"make yourself useful and wash up then. now hermana!" alexia snatched the remote where the girl reached for it, tucking it into her pocket as alba groaned but got up and made her way to the kitchen.

"para eso! diablillo." alexia laughed as you stood up in the bath and kicked water at her, soaking her shirt as she dropped your towel on your head and pulled the plug from the bath.

"can't see!" you complained as you tried to pull the towel off but alexia held it over your head, lifting you out of the bath and placing you carefully onto the mat on the floor.

"when's mami comin back? soon?" you asked hopefully once your sister had dressed you, hanging up your towel and hoisting you up onto her hip despite the fact you were old enough and more than capable of walking.

"she'll be back when you wake up tomorrow, bed time fresa." alexia covered your face with her hand as you tried to argue, already well prepared for what was coming as she made her way down the hall and into your bedroom.

"the sun is still up!" you protested, standing up in bed with your arms crossed and a frown making alexia smile, the large shirt you'd insisted on wearing drowning your tiny body and making you look a lot cuter than you were trying to convey with your current scowl.

"because it is daylight savings nena, the sun goes to bed at nine but you go to bed at eight!" alexia pulled the curtains shut as you groaned. "one more hour." you bargained as the older girl shook her head and sat down in the chair in the corner.

"no." "half hour?" "no." "twenty minutes." "no." "sí." "no." "sí!" "no!" "sí."

"n-dios mio why am i arguing with a five year old. bed time, now fresa." alexia sighed fixing you with the best stern look she could manage but it did nothing as you shook your head and leapt out of bed, racing off as alexia threw her head back and sighed deeply.

"sorry for hitting you hermana." you climbed up onto the couch and dropped yourself into alba's lap, kissing her cheek with a charming smile your sister was unable to resist, messing up your hair with a fond roll of her eyes.

"hey! that is not your bed fresa, go." alexia appeared, pointing to your bedroom behind her as you shook your head and grabbed albas arms wrapping them around you.

"come on ale mami isn't here, let her stay up a little later." alba chuckled taking your side as alexia scoffed. "yeah ale, you're not mami." you grinned cheekily as your eldest sister gave in with a sigh, handing alba the remote and sitting down on the other end of the couch.

"one episode and you're putting her to bed then." alexia warned getting comfortable as alba clicked into your favorite cartoon and you grinned happily, wriggling around a little before settling, your sisters hand tangling in your hair.

between the rising and falling of alba's chest and her arms tightly wound around you paired with her fingers scratching lightly at your scalp you barely made it a further ten minutes before you'd gone completely limp.

another five and alexia glanced over with a snicker seeing both you and alba now dead asleep on the other end of the lounge together. with a roll of her eyes she pushed herself up, gently shaking alba's ankle whose eyes fluttered open.

"go to bed hermana." the girl chuckled, gently picking you up as you immediately latched on, alba sitting up and rubbing her eyes. "no its fine you said you wanted to watch that new movie, put her to bed and i'll find it." she stretched out and blinked a few times before grabbing the remote.

"don't you have class tomorrow?" alexia questioned with a raised eyebrow. "relájese mami i have a half day, i don't start till eleven." alba rolled her eyes mockingly and gestured for her to put you to bed.

alexia was grateful you barely stirred as she tucked you in, brushing your hair out of your face and kissing the crown of your head, backing away and leaving your door open just a crack in case you woke up and called out later.

"popcorn?" alba asked with a hopeful smile before alexia could even sit down, the older girl rolling her eyes but retreating to the kitchen none the less as alba clicked play on a horror movie they'd both been wanting to watch.

as they both settled in, fixated on the screen and the popcorn shared between them, neither girl heard your door push open a little more or the soft patter of your feet as you rubbed your eyes and left your room.

as a kid you'd always had eager ears, you might have been loud and outgoing just like your sisters but you also learned from a very young age that sometimes staying quiet was just as beneficial.

so knowing well enough if either one of your sisters saw you you'd just be sent right back to bed you quietly made your way into the living room, ducking down and sitting on the floor by the arm of the couch where neither of them could spot you.

your eyes struggled to stay awake as you leant your head against the couch, but hearing the murmured chatter of your sisters just above your head was comforting as your body sagged and you fought to keep your eyes open.

though that wasn't an issue as suddenly someone was violently decapitated on screen and you couldn't help but gasp, the unexpected noise making both of your sisters jump more than the movie was.

"pequeña! you are supposed in bed what are you-" alexia was by your side in an instant, scooping you up as you hid your face in her neck and alba hurried to turn the movie off as the violently gruesome murders continued.

"hey hey fresa está bien, its just a movie its not real!" alexia felt you tremble and held you tighter, taking a seat again and rubbing your back softly. "come on nena, its way past your bedtime." alexia sighed once you'd calmed a little, standing to her feet.

you glanced toward alba over alexia's shoulder who drew her finger over her throat and flopped her head sideways mimicking the beheading making your eyes widen in fear before she was out of sight.

"your bed." you poked at your sister and shook your head firmly when she attempted to put you down, clinging on tightly with arms locked around her neck. "no fresa, your bed." alexia sighed and pryed you off of her, your hands gripping at her shirt with another shake of your head.

"i told you hermanita it was just a movie, you are very safe in your bed. alba and i are here, mami will be home soon and you need to sleep!" alexia poked your nose and stood, again prying your hands away from where they fisted at her top.

though as she kissed you goodnight and tucked you in again, the moment her back turned she heard you move and glanced over her shoulder as you now stood right behind her.

"you are not sleeping in here tonight, are you?" alexia sighed knowingly as you shook your head firmly, arms crossed across your chest. "vale. go get in my bed and i will be there in a second pequeña." your sister gave in, shaking her own head as you sprinted off toward her room.

alba having headed off to bed it would seem alexia checked all the doors were locked and left the lamp on for whenever eli got home, heading after you to her own room.

"are you mad at me?" you asked quietly with a worried frown as after changing and flipping the light off your sister climbed into bed beside you. "no fresa, you are too cute to be mad at. but go to sleep por favor!" you whined as she pinched your cheeks and you tucked yourself into her side.

over the years your co-sleeping habits had been something that was a point of contention. when you were much much younger and your sisters slept on the floor by your crib you grew accustomed to not being by yourself even as a baby.

as a toddler it was a fight for your parents not to wake up with you wedged between them or curled up on the end of the bed not unlike a cat did, and no matter how many times you were put back in your own bed you seldom stayed there more than a few hours.

but there was one person who would never turn you away the moment you could walk well enough to make it to her room and that was alexia, relishing in the fact you wanted to spend so much time with her and enjoying nothing more than being able to tease alba about being your favorite.

though as alexia grew older she started to want her own space, but without a lock on her door you seemed to arrive near every night tugging on her arm or climbing up into her bed uninvited.

"no fresa, your own bed!" the teenager would groan, removing you from where you'd snuck in, carrying you under the arms to your own room and dropping you back in bed.

but when that didn't work she'd made eli invest in a lock for her door and for a few months you finally spent the entire night in your own bed, albeit a few nightmares where eli took pity and allowed you into her bed.

as you got even older alexia didn't need to lock her door anymore as it seemed the habit was finally broken, but then when your father passed and the house was no longer the bright laughter filled space it used to be, the tides shifted.

"hey pequeña." your eyes fluttered open tiredly, finding your eldest sister knelt down by your bed, bags under her own eyes as you rubbed yours. "ale?" you rasped out as she hummed and pushed your fringe back out of your face.

"can i sleep here with you fresa?" your sister asked as you frowned, confused by the request. "why?" you questioned sitting up a little, but moving over as alexia slid into your bed beside you.

"you are sad?" you asked when alexia didn't answer your original question, slipping underneath her arm as your body slumped tiredly into hers. "sí nena, i am a little sad." alexia confirmed, her feet hanging off the end of your bed but that was the least of her concerns.

"cause of papi? cause he isn't coming home anymore?" you questioned, alexia wincing as everyone had been baring the brunt of trying to explain to you why he wasn't coming home as gently as they could to a five year old.

"sí. but you know what always makes me feel better when i am sad?" alexia whispered as you shook your head. "a hug from you, you give the best hugs fresa." alexia smiled as you looked up at her.

"really?" you yawned as your sister hummed and you shuffled around to get a little more comfortable. "you can have hugs whenever you want ale." you mumbled tiredly, tiny body clinging tightly to hers as the older girl wiped away a stray tear.

"gracias fresa." alexia kissed your forehead, your eyes already closed as you firmly fisted her shirt and she hugged you even tighter.

"but next time we can hug in your bed you're too big for mine." you sighed honestly, alexia covering her mouth to stifle a laugh, something which hadn't left her in what felt like forever.

"oh nena please don't ever grow up."

when you were younger you were a bubbly kid, intelligent too and incredibly empathetic and caring. but you did have one fatal flaw, at least to your sisters, and that was your inability to lie.

to eli you were a blessing in that sense, and though she'd always raised her girls to be honest if the older woman smelled anything amiss you were her to go for confirmation.

not unlike the first time you'd caught alba sneaking back in after a night out with friends, your sister hardly sober she'd climbed back in through the wrong window scaring you near half to death and hurrying to throw a hand over your mouth as you almost screamed.

"what are you doing!" you asked wide eyed, heart rate a near million miles an hour as your sister laid down on your floor. "dios mio fresa why is your room spinning!" alba groaned throwing a hand over her eyes as you leapt out of bed.

"no! you can't tell." your sister grabbed at your ankle sending you hurtling to the floor with a thump. "let go!" you grunted trying to pull away as alba clung on, the two of you bickering back and forth before your door opened.

"pequeña? what-" to alba's relief it was only alexia as she relaxed and you managed to yank your ankle free, shuffling away from her. "alba came through my window and now she's being weird and says my rooms spinning and-" you rambled on as alba groaned and alexia quickly realised what happened.

"you're drunk!?" alexia hissed as alba shushed her and you frowned. "whats drunk mean?" you questioned alexia who faltered for a moment, grabbing alba's hands and hauling her to sit up. "nothing. wait here fresa!" your eldest sister ordered firmly, pulling alba properly to her feet.

mumbling angrily at your other sister in spanish alexia very carefully guided alba out of your room and toward hers, wincing as alba's head thumped against the door frame.

but she breathed out a sigh of relief as eli's door stayed closed, practically dragging her younger sister to her own room as you stayed put, getting back into bed where you'd been rudely awoken.

after a few minutes and making sure alba wasn't going to choke on her own vomit alexia returned, kneeling by your bed. "you can't tell mami that alba came through your window fresa." your sister spoke firmly as you gave her a curious look.

"can i say she was drunk?" you questioned, at seven years old not able to know what that meant. "no, you can't tell mami anything." alexia shook her head. "but what if she asks me?" you questioned with a frown as your sister sighed.

"she won't. promise me you won't tell?" the brunette held up her pinky as you gave her a suspicious look. "if you do i'll take you to the beach after school tomorrow." the older girl bargained as you nodded. "will you get me ice cream?" you questioned again as alexia sighed but agreed.

"now go to sleep!" her fingers shoved at your forehead making you huff and swat her away. "i was! till drunk alba woke me up." you rolled your eyes. "not a word about it fresa, i mean it." alexia warned as you yawned and nodded, closing your eyes again.

that next day just as promised alexia picked you up from school and drove the two of you to the beach, alba meeting you there dropped off by one of her own friends.

"can i go get some shells?" you questioned, hovering by where both your sisters laid out in the sun. "sí. alba will go with you!" your eldest sister pushed at the others shoulder who groaned. "you take her." alba mumbled, voice muffled by the cap covering her face.

"no i think you will, or else maybe mami will learn where you were last night." alexia smiled smugly closing her eyes and rolling onto her back, alba pulling the cap away from her face with a dirty look as you tapped your foot impatiently.

but this little interaction didn't go unnoticed by you, and neither one of your sisters could have predicted how it would come back to haunt them as alba sighed and stood up.

"vamos, lets go find some pretty shells then hermanita."

"alba." you spoke up a little later as your sister hummed, busying herself shifting through a handful of shells for the best ones. "what does drunk mean? ale wouldn't tell me." you questioned as the older girl paused.

"uhh it means you feel sick." alba dismissed, refusing to look up and meet your eyes she felt burning a hole in her head. "like when you eat too much ice cream?" you questioned again, bending down to poke at the sand.

"uh sure, like that. oh look at this one!" alba held up a large pink spiral shell as your eyes lit up and as hoped your attention focused elsewhere, taking your sisters hand as you both wandered further down the beach and the topic didn't arise again.

"i win!" you cheered as you beat your sister back to where alexia was now sat up, watching with a smile and sunglasses dropped over her eyes.

"did you find some good shells fresa?" alexia smiled as you and alba returned and you launched yourself at her in a hug, tackling her onto her back making her laugh. "yeah. alba has em!" you nodded to your other sister who was carefully placing them into your bag.

"i think thats enough sun for you today then hermanita." you huffed as a cap was pulled down over your eyes sending the world dark for a moment before you pushed it back up.

"ice cream?" you asked hopefully as your sisters packed everything up. "we had ice cream when we got here, no more today nena." alexia chuckled pulling your hat down over your eyes again.

"i think more ice cream." you announced, pushing the hat up with an innocent smile as alexia gave you an odd look. "well i said no fresa, vamos!" she held your bag and hers in one hand and offered her other for you to take.

"i think yes, or else mami finds out about alba last night." you took her hand and parroted alexias earlier words, alba rooting in spot a few feet ahead and slowly turning. "what did you just say?" the older girl asked in disbelief.

"ice cream or i tell." you shrugged as alba scoffed. "this is your fault. arréglalo!" she pointed at alexia who stared down at you in a mix of shock and fear.

"so, ice cream now?"

another thing neither of your sisters had planned for was eli to suggest you all went to a local carnival which was on for the weekend in the centre of town that night.

both of them hoping the beach ice cream incident was a one off had been unable to say no to your puppy dog eyes that they both come when they tried getting out of it, each of them cancelling plans with friends to go to the carnival instead much to your delight.

and for the first couple of hours, everything was going well.

your sisters argued over who got to hold your hand, bickering over which rides to take you on or whose turn it was to sit with you much to eli's amusement as she trailed after the three of you, one of her friends from work joining you all on her night off.

she'd always been cautious about how her older daughters would react to her news of having another, especially with a 10 and 13 year age gap, but there hadn't been a single second where she'd regretted her decision to have you.

both your sisters fiercely protective from the moment you were born it was now to the point it almost seemed as if they'd had you themselves the way they carried on sometimes, though the more older you got the more they seemed to insist on babying you in sheer disbelief that one day you needed to grow up.

"this one." you decided, sat on alba's shoulders as the three of you stopped in front of some sort of game which looked to involve shooting down some ducks, both older girls now arguing over who could win you a prize first as alba carefully lowered you to the ground.

"ready to lose reina?" alba challenged as your eldest sister scoffed and rolled her eyes, paying the attendant and readying herself as it counted down and you watched on in awe.

though of course and as per usual it was alexia who came out on top, cheering happily as alba dropped the fake gun with a scowl. "which one fresa?" your sister hoisted you up onto her hip as the attendant pointed out which prizes you could have.

pointing out a bright purple stuffed pig your eyes lit up as it was handed to you, alexia placing you back on your feet as you hugged your new friend tightly. "that one? he is so ugly." alba frowned at your choice as the three of you wandered off to find eli.

"you are ugly!" you shot back in defense of your new friend, alba's eyebrows raising as suddenly you bolted, your sister hot on your heels as alexia yelled after you both to be careful with a shake of her head.

this afternoons events were all but forgotten as you shovelled treat after treat into your mouth, still at the age where as the youngest nobody really ever said no to you, least of all your mami.

but on reflection your sisters perhaps should have taken into consideration the two ice creams and multitude of rides and running around you'd engaged in when buying you whatever you wanted all evening.

all but asleep in alexia's arms now your eyes fought to stay awake as eli waved off her friend and the four of you headed for the car, your eyes opening again as fireworks sounded in the distance and you looked up in wonder at the bursting colours above your head.

but as you were buckled into the car, you started to feel a little funny.

"mami i feel sick." you mumbled, alba leaning over with a frown and laying the back of her hand against your forehead. "she's not hot." the brunette shrugged before suddenly you careered forward and threw up all over yourself.

"oh hija." eli winced sympathetically, hurrying around to the side of the car as alexia hunted around in the boot for something to change you into, alba too busy complaining about the smell to be of any help.

having a few small sips of water and changed into one of alexia's old training jerseys she'd pulled out of a bag you were sat back into the car, body sagged against your sisters as she'd swapped seats with alba, running her fingers through your hair.

"ale?" you spoke up as the older girl hummed. "think i'm drunk." you mumbled out as the car jolted to a stop at a red light and your sisters eyes widened, eli whipping around to face you in shock.

"you are what?"

from your very first day of school it became a routine that alexia would both drop you off and pick you up, the start and finishing times never clashing much with her training schedule whilst eli was almost always at work and alba at school of her own.

over the years alexia had gone bright red when asked if she was young when she had you, quick to explain she was just your sister as the embarrassed blush shifted to whoever had asked the question, a rambled apology normally following.

though now ten years old your school this year was trialing two half days on a thursday and tuesday for some sort of study, and with this new introduction there was a shift in routine, eli normally taking her lunch break early to quickly collect you and bring you back to work with her.

which is why on thursday when you'd finished around lunchtime you were surprised to see alexia waiting for you instead, barcelona kit on and shifting anxiously from foot to foot checking the time on her watch as her eyes roamed the playground for you.

as they found you and you waved she smiled, gesturing for you to come as you hugged your friends goodbye and raced over. "where's mami?" you questioned right away but upon your arrival something else had captured alexia's attention.

"stuck at work. what happened to your face fresa?" alexia dropped down right away, cradling your face in her hands and turning it side to side to inspect the fresh cut above your left eyebrow.

"and your knee! mierda." the eldest putellas gasped suddenly seeing the nasty gash on your right knee, dried blood already scabbing over. "thats a bad word." you reminded your sister who ignored you, too busy inspecting your knee.

"what happened? did you fall over? were you running too fast? did you have your backpack on? did you forget to tie your laces again?" alexia fired a million questions your way, only stopping when your small hand covered her mouth, sometimes the only way you knew how to shut her up when she got like this.

"i got pushed over. do you think i'll get a cool scar?" you asked excited by the prospect as alexia swatted your hands away to stop you touching the cut on your head.

"who pushed you and why?" alexia asked firmly, hands cradling your face again with a frown.

"a boy. we had to speak about our heros in class and i was telling everyone about you and how you play football for spain and barça and he said girls can't play football. then i told him he was stupid and you're better than anyone in the whole world at football and he pushed me over!" you explained, alexia's face softening for a moment.

"you said i was your hero?" she asked, a little choked up as you nodded and she pulled you into a tight hug. "ale you're all sweaty!" you groaned trying to push away from her much larger body.

"now. who pushed you?" alexia snapped back to the problem at hand as her eyes quickly scanned you for any further injury, frown depending seeing a few small cuts on your palms where you'd clearly tried to use your hands to break your fall.

"him." you pointed out the boy who caught your eye and paled as your sister let go of you and turned, face like thunder as the boy quickly cowered behind his father, alexia ordering you to wait here for her as she marched over to the pair.

you couldn't hear what was being said but watching your sisters hands flail about you knew she was angry, and it seemed the boys dad was angry too, yelling back at her for awhile.

and as much as alexia would have loved to continue to give the man a piece of her mind she knew she was already running late to return to training. so settling for threatening legal action if a single hair on your head was touched again she turned on heel and stormed away, grabbing your hand and tugging you to fall into step with her.

"vamos, you're coming to training with me pequeña."

"cutting it a little fine aren't we ale? going from a half an hour early to only ten minutes?" leila teased as alexia appeared in the change rooms still with your hand held securely in hers even as you tried now to pull away.

"we're late cause ale got into a fight at my school!" you chipped in, succeeding in yanking your hand free and making a beeline right for leila who dropped down to hug you.

"a fight huh?" marta raised an eyebrow as alexia rolled her eyes, sitting down to change out of her trainers back to her boots, still with an outdoor session to go before she was finished for the day.

"yeah she beat up some boy for pushing me over. do you think i'll get a cool scar?" you questioned leila as a few more of the girls came to greet you, your battle wounds quite the topic of conversation as your head was turned side to side over and over and your knee was poked and prodded at before marta gently covered it with a plaster.

"i didn't beat him up fresa!" alexia groaned at the questioning looks sent her way. "no she fought his papi." you corrected as laughs echoed around the change room and alexia hung her head in her hands.

"i did not fight anybody!" alexia huffed as you took your backpack off and handed it to her to be put away in her cubby, your sister quick to smother your face in sun cream much to your attempts to push her off as she explained what really happened.

"well i think that boy is stupid and you will have a very cool scar nena." patri grinned, scooping you up and tossing you over her shoulder. "badass!" you chirped as alexia's head swiveled toward you. "who taught you that?" your sister questioned as your eyes lingered on a guilty looking pina.

"you're not allowed to be left alone with claudia anymore." alexia sighed with a shake of her head, making her way out of the change rooms as patri carried you over her shoulder.

you busied yourself chattering away to mario who hung behind you with a grin at your very animated recount of what you assumed alexia had said to the boys father, your sister now just out of earshot as she walked ahead.

"do you have homework fresa?" alexia questioned with a raised eyebrow at the singular book and pen in your hand once the others had all made their way onto the pitch.

"no?" you tried with an innocent smile as your sister chuckled. "still a terrible liar diablillo." your sister teased as you deflated and begrudgingly showed her the times tables you needed to practice.

"diablillo huh?" a new voice sounded as a girl you'd not met before appeared with a grin. "fresa this is maría, she's my new team mate." alexia introduced the both of you explaining you were her sister as the girl commented on the obvious age difference.

"i was an accident." you stated suddenly as alexia frowned and bent down. "who told you that?" she questioned with furrowed eyebrows. "that boy who pushed me today." you shrugged, not too bothered by it.

"well he is wrong, sí? you are not an accident fresa, do not let anyone tell you that. you were a surprise, and surprises are always good. a perfect little surprise for alba and i, vale?" she pulled you into a very tight hug as you nodded and hugged her back making her smile.

mapi squatted down next and extended her hand toward you as your sister let you go and stood back up.

"cool!" you ignored the handshake and instead marveled at the tattoos littering her arm, tracing them in awe making both older girls laugh. "you can call me mapi, you like these huh?" mapi asked as you nodded eagerly.

"like the ones on ale's back. i tried drawing some more on her but she wouldn't let me!" you commented with an eye roll. "you wanted to draw them on my face!" alexia reminded with a scoff. "yeah your face is boring hermana." you grinned, ducking as her hand reached out to mess up your hair and the whistle blew.

"well anytime you want to draw me some more cool tattoos diablillo you are very welcome to." mapi promised with a wink before running off. "if you need help come get me or ask somebody, go do your math por favor!" alexia nodded for you to go sit in the shade as you did so.

you tried to do your math but found that watching your sister and her team train was far more interesting, book and pen abandoned in your lap after only five minutes as you watched on in awe until the final whistle blew to end training.

most of the girls headed back toward the change rooms alexia wandered over, taking a seat beside you and handing you a water bottle. "nice math fresa." she snatched your book before you could with an amused smile.

"yo te ayudaré." she rolled her eyes, shuffling a little closer and walking you through everything, pausing every now and then as a few of the girls came over to speak with you both.

"my head hurts." you complained, falling sideways so your head was in your sisters lap once you'd made it halfway through, alexia chuckling.

"must be the cut." you nodded pointing it out causing the older girl to fondly roll her eyes, deeming that was enough for now and helping you both up.

"you know fresa, you are my hero too. mi pequeña héroe!" alexia smiled softly as you both walked back into the training centre as you looked up at her in surprise.

"really?" "really nena."

"and mi hermana favorita, but do not tell alba." she winked, foot flicking up to kick you in the behind. "hey thats not fair! my legs not long enough." you tried to do the same to her almost sending yourself tumbling over as alexia laughed and grabbed the back of your shirt to steady you.

"maybe one day fresa, maybe one day."

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso blurbs #🍓☀��

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dinogoofymutated · 9 months ago

Note

Hello, I love your writing!! And the Kurt taking care of an overworked lover really melted my heart 🫠💕 could I ask for a similar prompt with Logan? He's my #1 X Men man. If this ptompt is too specific no worries, feel free to make it work within your own parameters- but I live with chronic pain/illness, so maybe it could be someone with a condition that flairing up and they refuse to rest/ask for help, making things worse, and Logan finally steps in, maybe scoops them up in his big arms and lovingly forces them to take a break? Logan has such a big protective heart under all his gruffness, and I think we need to see more of it in the Fandom.

💖 Love and Bless You 💖

Wolverine/GN!Reader UGH I love this request!! I hope it's okay that i didn't write about a specific illness, but describe a general chronic pain/mobility difficulty due to it. I need to write soft logan like this more often UGH- also, I was picturing the flirty Logan from Wolverine and the X-men here. He's infected my brain and I need more versions of him like that lol. TWS: Chronic pain/illness. flareups.

If there's one thing anyone knows about Logan, it's that's he's crazy observant, especially with that sniffer of his.

Sure me might not be able to smell when you're in pain, but I 100% thing that he just -knows- when something is off. It's like a sixth sense. Like you move in a particular way or eat your "fuck I hurt" food and he's on you like a goddamn bloodhound.

It doesn't matter how much you protest, or how much you fight him on it, he's not willing to budge when it comes to letting you rest- and if he can sneak in a few extra cuddles, or more time in bed with you, it's just a perk.

Today has been a rough day since you woke up, and you knew it would most likely get worse.

You were having a bit of a flare-up. Well, you say a bit, in all actuality, it was an uphill battle from here. There was just something off the moment you woke up. Your joints were stiff and painful, everyday actions became a chore, and you were hurting much more than normal. But, if there was one thing about you everyone knew, it was that you were certainly stubborn.

You’re in the kitchen currently, resting at the table after popping a batch of cookies in the oven. Jubilee had been begging you to make her some sweet treats, and with her coming home from a rather long mission tomorrow, you decided to surprise her. Your body’s timing was… unfortunate, but there was no stopping you now. You were exhausted after making the dough, and rolling it into balls. After you had popped them in the oven you had painstakingly walked to the fridge to put the rest of the dough inside, muscles protesting each and every step. You had collapsed into the nearest chair, leaning your head back with a sigh, which is where you are now. You let your eyes drift closed as you wait for the timer to go off, relaxing into the seat.

“Hey~” You jump at the sound of the voice, opening your eyes to see a smirking Logan, his arms draped across the back of your chair. You let out a huff, smiling at him.

“Hi Logan.” You say sweetly. One of his hands reaches down to run through your hair, and you feel like a cat as you eagerly lean into the touch.

“How are you feeling?” He asks. You hum, grimacing at the question.

“Fine?” You respond, an unsure tilt in your voice. Logan raises an eyebrow at you.

“Don't bullshit me, sweetheart. I know somethings off.” Logan rumbles. You make a face, sitting up from the chair as normally as you can as the timer for the cookies goes off.

“It's just a minor flare-up. It's fine, I'm fine. I have to finish baking these cookies for tomorrow anyway, so I don't really have a choice.” You say. If he sees the way you stumble a little, he doesn’t comment on it. Logan watches as you take a moment before you open the oven, resting against the counter. You realize that you may have gotten up from the chair just a little too fast as stars spot your eyes. After a minute of rest, hyper-aware of Logan’s eyes on you, you go for it. You barely crack the oven door open before Logan grabs you by the waist.

“Alright, that's enough.” He says. You yelp as Logan drags you away from the oven. He takes the cookies out quickly before he turns around and immediately throws you over his shoulder. Your yelp is more of a screech this time.

“Logan! Let me go- what are you doing?!”

“I'm not gonna stand back and watch you do this to yourself. I'm taking you to bed.” Logan huffs. He’s already walking you out of the kitchen and into the other parts of the mansion as you hit your palms against his back, trying to convince him to put you down.

“But- I- the cookies!” You cry out. Logan has already gotten to your door opening it as he carries you inside.

“I got it. Now just- relax.” He says, plopping you down on the bed. The action has you a little dizzy, and Logan leans in to kiss you on the forehead before he tucks you under the covers.

“I'm going to go get you some water and vitamins. Stay. Here.” You don’t have time to protest before he’s gone, having shut the door behind him. You want to get up and chase after him, tell him that you don’t need any special treatment and that you were fine on your own, but you’re not sure you can really run right now- and the comfort and warmth of your bed and covers are calling you like a goddamn siren song.

You drift in and out of consciousness in bed until Logan is back, with a glass of water and vitamins as promised. He hands you a flintstone gummy as he sits on the bed, and you can’t help but snicker. Logan rolls his eyes, still having delivered vitamins as promised.

“What did you do about the cookies?” You ask as Logan peels back the covers to lie in the bed with you. He pulls you close as he settles in, rubbing his hands soothingly across the parts of you he knows tend to ache the most.

“I put a new batch in the oven. I’ll smell them when they’re ready.” He says. You roll your eyes at him, resting your head against his chest.

“Thank you, you know. Not just for the cookies, but… for caring.” You whisper. He huffs a laugh, leaning down to kiss you on the lips this time.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. Just rest.”

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men headcannons #x men 97 x reader #wolverine headcannons #wolverine x reader #wolverine #logan howlett headcannons #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett

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fandom-imagines-stories · 2 months ago

Text

Let It Snow

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1240

Summary: No killers, no kidnappers, no cases. You and your cabin fevered boyfriend spend the weekend tucked away in his apartment. And since we’ve no place to go…

Notes: I honestly can’t remember the last time I wrote pure Spencer fluff (not including the series) I don’t care how often I use the trope of Spencer reading to me, I love it so much and consider this a Christmas present to myself and something short and sweet for you guys! (Especially during the wait for the second half of In-Betweens season three. I promise I’m working on it!)

More Reid: HERE

Snow flitted down into the streets of D.C. with fat white flakes drifting past the beams of the streetlights. Somewhere in the apartment, Christmas music wafted down the hall like the scent of fresh sugar cookies needing to be frosted. It was the time of year when people huddled in their homes, content with staying out of the cold that awaited outside. Well, most people.

Spencer paced around the living room with a book on something grizzly you didn’t want to know about. His fingers skimmed the pages with a feather-light touch, his lips moving slightly with the ghost of every word. You watched him from your place at the window and sighed. He’d been like this for two days. Without a case, and with the weather keeping you at home, it seemed he was experiencing more than a touch of cabin fever.

“We should go out,” you announced.

He didn’t even look up from his book. “You think so?”

“Yeah, why not?” Walking towards him, you coaxed the book out of his hands and set it on the coffee table. “I think they’re playing that really old Christmas Carol down at the theatre you like. You know, the kinda creepy version?”

His eyes lit up, but only for a second. Spence glanced out of the window and frowned.

“You know, on average, in the winter, the percentage of car-related deaths increases by-”

You blew out a breath. “Nevermind.” You started to return to the window, but Spence’s fingers wrapped gently around your wrist, pulling you back to him.

“We could do something here.”

“Spence,” you smiled, “I’ve been waiting for you to come out of your case-coma for two days. What could we possibly do?”

To be honest, you’d had a couple of ideas ever since he got back from the last case, but you didn’t say that now.

Spencer thought for a long while, which signaled the return of his pacing. You sighed and laid your head on the arm of the couch, giving up. Turning slightly so you could see the snow flutter down by the window. If you were outside, you’d stand right out in the middle of it, waiting for a flake to land on your tongue and melt.

“I’ve got it,” Spence said, plopping down next to you. “We should see who can make the best hot chocolate.”

You lifted your head just enough to look at him. “I’m listening.”

“I mean, we already have all the stuff for it, plus that gingerbread house you’ve been waiting to make with me. Tonight is perfect!” His eyes sparkled with the excitement you loved so much.

“Promise not to get too competitive?” You asked, raising a brow.

“What are you talking about?” Spence scoffed. “I’m not competitive.”

“Uhuh,” you snorted. “And Morgan taped over his music with your voice himself.”

“That was different.” Spence took your hand, pulling you up and into his arms. “He deserved it.”

You peered at him for a while, dramatically narrowing your eyes in thought. After tormenting him long enough, you held out a sportsmanlike handshake.

“Alright, Dr. Reid. May the cocoa commence.”

The ‘competition’ was abandoned as soon as you realized that Spence was terrible at making hot chocolate, but was oddly perfect for constructing gingerbread houses. Who knew math could be such help when putting together cookie pieces?

So while you crafted the perfect cocoa, your hyper-focused boyfriend put the finishing touches on the gingerbread house with gumdrops lining the roof. His tongue poked out from his lips, brows drawn together in concentration.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, you know,” you giggled, bringing him his warm drink in a mug shaped like an evergreen tree. “That’s part of the fun.”

It was impressive, really. The house looked picture perfect, but he’d added little swirls in the windows and candy cobblestones leading to the door.

“People only say that because theirs always fall apart. And this-” He gave the paper platform a gentle shake. The house stayed steady. “Isn’t going anywhere.” Spencer gave you a little grin of pride that made you want to kiss him. Instead, you picked up the frosting.

“It just needs a little more,” you hovered the frosting tip over the roof of the house before quickly shifting, dolloping a line of red on your boyfriend’s cheek, “there.”

His mouth fell open and, before you could get away, he picked up the green frosting and lathered it on your lips.

“Now it’s perfect,” he said.

With a feisty smirk and a glint in your eye, you set the frosting down, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and pulled his lips to yours. The kiss tasted like sugar and the hot chocolate that lingered on your tongue. He tasted like cinnamon and smelled like old books. Once the green was decently smeared on his face, Spencer wrapped his arms around you and continued the kiss along your jaw, making sure to get the red frosting all along your skin.

“Spence!” You squealed, laughter rumbling through both of you.

He continued until his kisses- and the frosting- reached the spot behind your ear that always made you melt. He leaned over you, one hand on your cheek and one supporting himself on the counter behind you. When he pulled away, his dark eyes were filled with the same want yours reflected back.

“Well, now we have a different problem.” You ran your finger over his lips, picking up the sugary substance and popping it into your mouth.

“What’s that?”

You smiled, hooking your finger in a motion that told him to follow. “We need a shower.”

Thoroughly content and a little exhausted, you and your now damp-curled boyfriend climbed into bed, the heat of your steamy shower still lingering between you. Spencer’s voice was low, soft as he read the words in front of him, the sound of Dickens filling your room.

“Marley was dead to begin with.”

“That’s gotta be one of the best opening lines in literary history.” You stretched out over his lap, the lace of your red pajama top riding up on your stomach.

“And it’s totally unexpected for a story about the ‘Jolly Holiday,’” he agreed. “Dickens turned a ghost story into-”

“Baby, you know I love your rants, but if you want to get through the story by next Christmas, you should probably get reading,” you teased.

“Okay, okay.” He leaned down, kissed your forehead, and continued.

The Christmas music a few apartments down dimmed to a soft hum as the building went to sleep.

Spencer finished the first chapter and looked down to find your eyelids drooping, though you battled to stay awake and listen. He chuckled and kissed you again, this time your lips, and set the book aside.

“I think it’s time we turn in.”

“But I’m not-” you yawned, “tired.”

“Come here. It’s cold.” He cuddled up next to you, pulling you into his arms.

You hummed, curling into him, faces a breath apart.

Spence peeked over your shoulder and frowned. Outside, the snow flitted onto the windowsill, fluffy white flakes coating the trees lining the sidewalk.

“They said it was supposed to be done this afternoon,” he said.

“What?” You craned your neck to get a glimpse.

“It’s still snowing.”

Turning back to him, you grinned and grabbed hold of the comforter. “Let it.”

Closing the space between your lips, you pulled the blankets over your heads and didn’t come out until the snow stopped.

#criminal minds imagines #criminal minds #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #christmas #holiday imagines #let it snow #spencer reid fluff

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usoppsstar · 2 months ago

Text

S: Your husband Simon buys you the giant grizzly bear at IKEA

Simon looks out for your inner child🐻🐻🐻

Pairing: Simon Riley x f!reader

Tw: Fluff/domesticity/talk of adopting/black reader friendly

WC:1.6k

Notes: No pronouns are used for reader; this is short and sweet; I'm fr gonna buy this bear someday; this is proofread but there may still be mistakes🐻🐻🐻

“Whoo! Finally getting towards the end.” You sigh as both you and Simon make your way through the wardrobes and finally start into the children's section. You've seen them a hundred times before, because the two of you treat Ikea like the hottest place for a date, but you can't help but glance into displays for the kid's rooms anyway. You and Simon have mentioned adopting a child before. You've never discussed it deeply or anything and it hasn't come up since getting married, but everytime you walk past this section you can't help but wonder if Simon is as nervous to bring it back up as you are.

“ Yeah towards the end of the first floor. Still got the warehouse left.” Said man's deep voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Simon walks up next to you, one of his large hands full with the small things you've picked up throughout this entire walk, from the escalator to the stairs. It's just a few items that you can never pass up because of how cheap they are, those and the raspberry cookies(sometimes you come to Ikea just for those things).

“Hey, any progress is good progress. Besides, we can just use the shortcuts down stairs.” You shrug before glancing up at your behemoth of a husband with a hopeful look. Simon doesn't say anything but the small breath he huffs out tells you what you need to know. You suck your teeth loudly and throw your head back.

“Fiiiine! We can walk through the warehouse again.” You whine and again Simon doesn't say anything but you know him well enough to know he's pleased he got his way. You bump into his side and loop your arm through his, taking an appreciative squeeze of his bicep because you can.

“I spoil you too much.” You pout and this time Simon audibly scoffs before gently moving you out of the way of a passing shopper. You smile too. You know you're not one to talk about being spoiled, with how well Simon takes care of you. The two of you are just finishing maneuvering through the kid beds when you glance over at the stuffed animals like you always do. You always contemplate buying another small bear but end up thinking better of it. Only this time you linger in front of one particular crate a little longer than usual. Simon feels you slowing down and stops as well, looking back at you. He looks down, and you're standing in front of a crate of dark, plush grizzly bears. That wasn't a surprise, you always stop by the lovies for a moment when you both come here.

“Heeey they put this display by the exit again!” You say happily before picking up one of the floppy bears. It was the large version of the itty bitty ones. Despite how big it is though, it's still light due to the thin fabric and the minimal stuffing. Simon always tells you that you should just spend the money it takes to get a quality stuffie, instead of buying the cheap ones, but you liked Ikea stuffed animals. Something about the simple designs just made you happy. Simon watches as you bounce the bear lightly, a small smile on your face.

“Why don't you finally take him ‘ome today?” He says suddenly and you look over at him.

“Huh?” You ask, while still holding the bear in the air. Simon sighs and walks over to you.

“You stop to pick him up everytime we come ‘ere. You must want one.” He says before plopping a big hand on its head, and you startle slightly.

“Oh, no I just like how bottom heavy it is, is all. I've noticed it for years now.” You shrug before trying to put the bear down but Simon stops you.

“Then get one.” He says and how soft his gaze is makes you falter for a moment. You pause for a second to bask in your husband's attention, knowing he's likely reading you like he always does, but shake your head.

“Nah.” You relent with a frown but Simon persists.

“Why?” He asks immediately, and even though he can't fold his arms, you still feel the sass radiating off of him. You sigh and roll your eyes, not knowing why your spouse wanted you to get an IKEA bear so badly all of a sudden.

“Because Simon! Where would I even put it? And what do I look like buying a big ass twenty dollar bear from IKEA?” You huff. It's always been an impractical buy. One you felt too silly to ask your parents for when you were younger and one you felt equally silly for wanting to buy once you were financially independent. The bear is cute and just looking at it makes you smile, but it was one of those things you just don't actually spend your money on. Simon watches you for a moment before nodding.

“Alright then.” He mutters quietly before stuffing his hand deep into the display and grabbing one of the giant bears from the bottom. You look at him surprised when he tugs one out and plops the big thing into your arms.

“I'll buy it for you then.” He finishes before placing his large body behind yours and leading you back towards the stairs to the first floor.

“Simon! We don't have a reason to-!” You stutter until Simon presses a masked kiss to the top of your head. Surprising you because he doesn't like much more than you holding his arm in public.

“It makes you happy love. That's all the reason you need really.” His voice rumbles next to your ear, and you look down at the bear while Simon carefully guides you down the stairs, his calloused hand wrapped around yours.

“Jeez.” You sigh in disbelief. Was it that big a deal that you bought something that you've wanted for a while? That made you happy? The adult part of you feels like it's such a waste of money, but another part is already screaming about getting the giant teddy bear you wanted, and you can't fight the smile growing on your face. Maybe Simon was just looking out for your inner child. You wouldn't be surprised if he was thinking of that actually. You hug Simon's arm tighter as you both reach the bottom of the stairs and walk into the kitchen area, the urge to buy another wooden cutting board a strong one, when you remember something.

“ Do we still have to walk through the entire warehouse?” You break the silence to tease and Simon sighs.

“ I don't say anything when you want to walk through the second floor for the hundredth time.” he retorts with a sideways glance at you and you suck your teeth.

“ But they change the displays! They don't change the displays downstairs!” you debate and Simon just shakes his head in disagreement.

“Sure they do. They might have a new Halloween thing going on ‘n that spot with the oven mitts and jam jars.” He points out and you bust out laughing before he can even finish, making some heads turn towards the two of you.

“Yeah you're right. Or in the area with the towels? They put those strings lights up and the yellow throw blankets.” You agree and you both go back and forth as you continue through the store, hand in hand and a giant grizzly bear plushie in your arms.

***

It's late at night now, towards that time when you and Simon usually lay down for the night. There's a simple, new mug on your nightstand, on top of a few more cork coasters than you had before today. You're content and showered, laying up against a large fur belly while you turn through the pages of the book you're reading this month. You'd usually be reading on your phone, but you're trying to cut down on all the digital reading for the sake of your eyes.

The bathroom light clicks off and Simon walks out soon after, comfortable and clean in a shirt and sweatpants. He's just about to walk over to the bed when he pauses at the sight in front of him. You're sat snug in bed, with your back against your new teddy bear, and the bear against the headboard. You looked cozy, and oddly enough so did the bear, with his floppy arms resting against your waist. Simon watches the scene for a moment before walking over. You look up from your book when Simon climbs onto the bed and enters your space, his big body blocking everything behind him for a second.

“Sit up for a second babe.” he tells you, and you comply only to feel Simon pull the bear away from you. Before you can ask why, he slots himself into the same spot, easily scooching you up a bit to give himself more room. You look up at him for an explanation and Simon looks at you before glancing away with a small shrug.

“Bloke's just got here and he's already tryna take ma spot.” He mutters while getting comfortable, and you burst out laughing. Your giggles subside as you relax into your husband's embrace, his muscular arms wrapping around your waist. You hum and glance over at the bear now sitting up against your nightstand.

“Simon?” You call him quietly and he answers you with a short hum against the top of your head. You stare at the bear a little longer.

“I want to adopt a child with you.”

A/n: This just a little something I posted on AO3 and got to post here. I've gone to IKEA since writing this and it turns out the bear is 30 bucks not twenty! I'm still gonna buy him tho. Thanks for reading!🐻🐻🐻

#cod fluff #cod fic #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty fluff #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #black reader friendly #domestic fluff

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redflagshipwriter · 11 months ago

Text

Hot Ghouls in your area 7

masterpost

Chapter 7

…Jason slowly put down the book and turned it cover up, shell-shocked from that interaction. He lifted his phone and took a photo. He sent it to Roy.

“What do you see?” He typed. Jason bit his lower lip and tried not to scowl while he waited for a response.

It wasn’t that Jason was unused to conflict. Jason was great at conflict. He won every conflict! (Almost.) But what the hell had this shit been? Why had that guy been so pissy about the book? What the hell was wrong with the book that Jason didn’t see?

“Gibberish?” Roy texted back a few minutes later. “It gives the impression of wonky Cyrillic to me. But it's got a terrible energy to it. The hell is that?”

Jason looked at the cover. To his eyes, there was a serif font declaring it Sense and Sensibility Universe D version 5.

“Thanks,” he sent, ignoring the question and then the barrage of heart emojis. Shit, okay.

That answered one question. But it didn't answer enough. What the fuck had that college kid been seeing that was so offensive?

‘And why'd he think we would meet again?’

Jason pushed deep, deep down any awareness that he hoped it was true. That had been weird enough that it would bother him forever if he didn’t get answers.

He sort of hated the idea of getting his nosy family involved, but they would ask different and in some ways, less annoying questions than other groups he could poll. They'd know not to lie to him, at least. So he sent the picture on to the family group chat with the same question and grimly finished his tea.

The elderly proprietor came out then and noticed that her other customer was gone. She looked confused for a moment, scanning the seat to see if his book bag was still there. She picked up the cash he'd left on the table and then started stacking dishes.

‘He’s a regular,’ Jason guessed, honing in on the opportunity to learn more. He flipped the book open but held the apparently offensive cover down towards the table, out of her line of sight. He needed to know what had gone so wrong. Jason wasn’t normally the kind of person that cute college kids had beef with.

He'd never been in this café before, his intuition had just told him to duck inside.

“I think he forgot something,” Jason offered casually, pretending to just look up from his book. “Ran out real quick in a panic.”

The lady let out a soft “Ahhh,” of comprehension. “Something for his afternoon class, perhaps,” she agreed, looking a little happier.

“Yeah, it looked like he was getting ready to settle in for a long study session and then he bolted,” Jason lied, watching her underneath his lashes. He had been paying a little more attention than he ought to when the guy came in. He was Jason’s type, aside from the thing where he’d hated Jason’s face for no apparent reason-

‘No, actually, everyone I’ve ever been into hated me on sight.’

Ouch. As Jason digested that embarrassing truth, the owner continued talking.

“He does that,” she agreed, apparently not thinking it was odd at all for them to talk about the habits of another customer. “Tuesdays and Thursdays. He's a sharp cookie, did you know that?” She continued, and oh, she had halfway adopted this college kid, huh? There was warmth and a hint of pride in her tone.

Jason valiantly swallowed the snort. “He looks familiar, but I don't think we have classes together,” he fished.

“Mm, he's doing some kind of math and engineering,” the lady helpfully supplied. She gave Jason her full attention as she stood up from the table. “And you?”

“Modern language and literature,” Jason said, and sort of wished it was true. He didn't really have the time. Did he? Spoiler was a full-time student, wasn't she? …Huh.

While he chewed that over, the lady had drifted a couple steps closer.

“...Those are two meaningfully different courses?”

“Modern language is learning additional languages, I'm doing Russian and Greek right now,” Jason lied easily. He was fluent in both already. “Literature is mostly classics, for my purposes. I'm focusing on Regency Lit.”

She looked very interested, but she detoured away to deposit the dirty dishes behind the counter. They kept up a light conversation about books as she wiped off the table and reset for the next customer.

When she left, he finally had the chance to check his messages. There was a full-on fight in the group chat. The last message was from Stephanie. She had tagged him and asked, “Is this an optical illusion??? Like that dress?”

Ah, fuck. Jason felt a rock settle in his stomach at the confirmation that something hinky was going on.

‘I can’t read this in public if it’s saying something I can’t control or even know.’

Fucking hell. Jason scrolled back up and checked. Damian listed the correct title. Dick saw what, ‘I thought was Greek at first.’ Stephanie might have been joking but she argued vigorously that it was pictographs that started with a bird. Drake had sent “You rediscovered Minoan Linear A? Cool.” and then not participated in any follow-up discussions. Duke had sent only a stream of confused and tearful emojis.

Cass had marked it read.

“Fair enough, I guess,” Jason muttered to himself. Resentfully he put the book back in his bag.

What had that guy seen? If he’d just seen something foreign but illegible he wouldn’t have gotten so pissy about it. And who the hell had he been, anyway? Why was he so special?

Well. That was something to do with his afternoon. Jason paid up his bill and gave Phyllis his well-wishes for her doctor’s appointment tomorrow on the way out. Phyllis was a good contact, he would definitely come back for more of her jasmine tea no matter how mad that guy got at him.

…Jason really needed a name.

And found…

He headed to Gotham University and used the student computers to look up departments and then hack into the registrar. Jason flipped through photos until he found his guy: Danny Fenton, 19, sophomore double-major in the Engineering department. Good grades, no notes on his account about academic dishonesty or conflict.

'Little weird to meet two Dannys in a 24 hour period.'

Jason searched the guy online and found…

He let his mouth drop open in disbelief at the batshit insane website design he had stumbled into. The Fenton family had a website, apparently, and they had maybe let a 7 year old design it in 2008. The colors… The lack of centering… The.. the neon choices.

His eyes watered. It took a while to fight down his aesthetic grief and actually start comprehending the text.

He had expected this to be like, an online family newsletter. And it was! The link he had followed detailed “Danno going to college in the big city!!!” The boy himself looked extremely resigned in the attached photo. Seriously, Jason had seen much less mortified mugshots. The thing was, that on the same page, alongside posts about other kids going college (Jazzypants!) and someone called Alicia recovering from “supergout!” with "her eight favorite toes remaining!!!", there was also a lot of mention of ghosts.

Like, a lot.

Jason scrolled in pained disbelief. There were photos that showed extremely weird and dismayed green people obviously flinching away from a camera. A beautiful green woman with her hair halfway over her face snarled through a flood of smoke under the title “Wishywish Ghostie Interviewed: Learn what drives her generous heart!” and an ugly robot motherfucker was seen fleeing under the caption, “Skalker indicates that spook is a GHOST SLUR!”

….Was it a shit post? Just one long shitpost? It had to be a joke site.

Well. No. Jason buried his face in his hands and came to terms with the horrible fact that not only were ghosts real, he was accidentally married to one and this bombastic midwestern family already knew about it. This was his best lead for getting that 'beyond death do you part' separation.

They had been blasting the existence of ghosts for all the world to read, and it hadn’t been news. The Justice League didn’t know about this whole society. The journalism done by– Jason lifted his head to check– Jack Fenton interviewing clearly very unwilling ghosts was the only primary source that he knew of.

He took a few deep breaths. He came to terms with grief. He decided to block his family from any further involvement in this shitshow, for what remained of his dignity. And he grimly noted down Jack Fenton’s email.

Jason cleared this history and closed down his tabs, feeling a decade older than he had when he had entered the library. He ignored the sultry ‘come talk to me’ eye contact that the student worker was shooting him from behind the counter as he slouched out.

He stopped for a moment on top of the stairs to watch campus move. He saw the theatre building and the modern language headquarters from his vantage point, along with about half of the student center. There was just a trickle of foot traffic between buildings along paved paths. A few people were hanging out on blankets in the grass. An old man in a suit was taking a phone call next to a crawling rose garden.

‘Maybe I should go to school.’

Well. After this shit was sorted out. Obviously he could not go to school before he got divorced. It would be torturous to hang out with cute boys his age and be committed to some hot dead mermaid who didn’t even wanna make out with him sloppy. Loser shit on absolutely every level, goddamn.

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets and jogged down the stairs. He kept an eye out for Danny, but had no luck.

Not that he cared. It was interesting that he had a lead: Danny clearly had some connection to ghosts, and he had been able to read…

‘Maybe he realized it was a ghost’s property and he thought I stole it?’ Jason realized in a stroke of inspiration. That made more sense. If he knew enough to recognize it as ghost language or whatever, then he might have felt affronted about Jason having it.

He went through his mental checklist to pick out what he did and didn’t know. Once he felt he had a hang on his priorities, he beelined to his own laptop in his favorite safehouse and started looking into the Fentons in more depth.

It was a great lead. It was suspiciously good, in fact, he thought as he found Jack Fenton’s online family newsletter again. What were the odds that he would run into Danny Fenton in a cafe that Jason had never even been in before? It had been a total fluke that he’d entered. He’d been walking past to a favorite place and then just had the urge to try the dark little family cafe.

‘…Ah, fuck’, Jason sighed. More ghost shit. It had to be. Something about Danny Fenton’s ghost shit had registered to him now that he’d been exposed to ghost central.

#red hot ghouls #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main

655 notes · View notes

hivemuthur · 17 days ago

Text

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 9.

viktorxfemale!reader explict! (we got there)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 7,2K!

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: spoiler: In the timeline of my writing, this is the first sex scene I've ever written on my own. So, what can I say? This is an imperfect story about imperfect people, but I can assure you it has an eventual happy ending.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

The absolute chaos of Christmas looming spread across the campus like an infectious frenzy. The corridors were decked with the most absurd ornaments the students could scavenge—Santa Claus figurines strung up and dangling upside down from the ceiling of the canteen, Christmas trees adorned with laboratory glassware and angel hair, and a mockery of carols blaring on repeat from the school radio. It was a bizarre fusion of science and art, a perfect encapsulation of the university’s peculiar spirit.

Every student seemed to be racing against time, scrambling to finish their projects and papers before the holidays, determined to return prepared for the looming finals. The labs and library remained open around the clock for anyone desperate enough to study or practise at odd hours.

You and Sue spent every spare moment in the lab classroom, tinkering with projects that needed to be submitted by the semester’s end. Meanwhile, Jayce and Viktor made themselves available to assist and guide anyone who might need their expertise, and the group crossed paths periodically, exchanging polite gestures and jokes to keep up the holiday spirit. Viktor had made a few attempts to talk to you after his mortifying text message, but you did your best to ignore him.

Which made your current situation, to say the least, far from ideal. Sue was rushing you to jot down all the points before she had to dash off and tend to a project for another class. The two of you huffed at each other, frustration starting to take its toll, until you sighed and said, “Sue, how about I finish this, and you go do your thing? I really don’t mind.” You offered your friend a reassuring smile.

Sue hesitated, narrowing her eyes. “Are you sick of me or something?”

“I’m never sick of you,” you said, placing your hand on Sue’s knee and giving it an affectionate squeeze. “I just think this needs a bit more work, and I can see you’re in a hurry. Honestly, I really don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Okay, I admit my mind is elsewhere. Fine,” Sue sighed in mock defeat. “I’ll do something for you in return, I promise.” She started packing up her things and leaned over to place a hand on your shoulder.

“Just get me a cookie or something,” you replied with a tired smile, gently brushing Sue’s hand away. You figured you’d probably finish the work faster on your own, and you were running out of time anyway. The lab was already emptying, darkness had fallen outside, your eyes burned from staring at the chemicals for so long, and you’d had more than enough for one day.

After Sue left, you resumed your work, determined to finish everything in one evening. The promise of rest and the satisfaction of completion fuelled you. You were so focused on jotting down your thoughts that you didn’t notice when Viktor sat beside you and leaned over your notes.

“Do you... need help?” His voice was unsure, as if he were asking about something else as well.

You hesitated. Help would certainly be welcome, but Viktor’s presence would also make it harder for you to focus. The final equation seemed to balance out the odds. You looked at him—he looked tired yet sharp. He wore the same green jumper he’d had on that night, with a crisp white shirt collar peeking out from underneath it. His scent was fresh and comforting, and his eyes, full of quiet anticipation, were fixed on you as you calculated your decision. You sighed. Yes, you needed help.

“Alright. Shoot me.”

For a split second, Viktor’s face lit up before he leaned in closer. “You’re pretty far along,” he said, his expression thoughtful, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You can dictate, and I’ll translate it into Heimerdinger’s language?”

“That would honestly be perfect,” you admitted, letting out a huff of relief as you turned your attention back to the chaotic scrawl of notes Sue had left behind. Terrible handwriting.

The two of you worked together in near silence, the hum of the lab equipment and the faint scratching of Viktor’s pen the only sounds between you. You found yourself occasionally distracted by the way Viktor’s long fingers moved as he pointed to your results, his low voice guiding you through adjustments. You tried to stay focused, but every now and then, you’d catch yourself glancing at him, his concentration a tether pulling your attention away from your notes.

Viktor, for his part, couldn’t help but steal glances at you. The faint scent of your perfume mixed with the sterile air of the lab, and it made something in his chest feel warm, almost achingly so. He bit his lip nervously whenever he realised he’d been staring too long, forcing his attention back to writing.

It took the two of you longer than either of you had expected, but when you finally wrapped up, the lab was completely empty. You stretched your arms over your head, letting out a soft groan of relief.

“That’s it, then,” you said, your voice tired but satisfied. “Thank you, Viktor. Honestly, I’d still be drowning in that mess if you hadn’t—”

“It’s nothing,” he cut you off gently, placing the pen down and leaning back slightly. He watched as you began gathering your things, clearly ready to leave. But before you could stand, he cleared his throat, his voice softer now. “Hey.”

You paused, looking at him.

“Did you…” He hesitated, the words suddenly harder to push out. He fidgeted with the edge of his notebook. “Did you get my text message?”

Of course, you did. You’d seen his stupid, childish message. The ‘I like you,’ had screamed at you from your phone screen for two weeks now, and you’d both loved it and hated it. Who writes ‘I like you’ like a five-year-old? And not only that, who needs to down an entire bottle of whisky to muster the courage to write ‘I like you’?

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably. You hadn’t expected this. You shifted awkwardly in your chair, avoiding his gaze. “I did,” you said finally, your voice measured, careful.

Viktor’s expression remained unreadable, but his hands tightened around the notebook in front of him. “And?”

You let out a breath, your lips pressing into a thin line. “And… if I’m to rely on you saying or doing something from the heart only when you get yourself blind drunk, that wouldn’t be the best choice for your health, Viktor,” your voice was quiet, your eyes fixed on the workbench in front of you. “And I don’t want to be bad for your health.” You offered him a faint smile and looked down again. “If it was from the heart, in the first place.”

His brow furrowed slightly, but he nodded, his gaze dropping to the table. “It was.” It was. And it shamed him deeply that, indeed, he’d needed liquid courage to admit it. Only now did it strike him how awful it must have made you feel. “But I have a… rabbit heart.”

“Am I so terrifying?” you felt mockery twisting itself inside you with anger. Why were you so angry, though? You also had a rabbit heart. You often caught yourself knowing exactly what Viktor was going to say because you used the same words in your history of backing out. Was this the universe having a go at you?

“Yes, you scare the living shit out of me,” he huffed out a shaky laugh, lowering his voice. It was probably the biggest truth he’d told you in all this time.

“Well, this can’t be good for your health either, then, no?” Deflect, deflect, deflect, hide yourself behind that joke. Very well done, you.

“I—” Viktor paused, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “Look, I lied. I’m not good with any setup—casual or not. I—” He stopped himself, his eyes flicking briefly to yours before looking away again. He was torn, visibly at war with his own feelings.

You didn’t want to hear him stumble over words again. “Viktor, I get it. It’s fine. We can still be friends?” You tried to search your mind for what you’d want to hear all those times when you told someone politely the relationship wasn’t working for you.

You thought this was it—an offer of friendship. Most people got hurt or annoyed with you, and it made you feel guilty. So, you tried to say something that wouldn’t make him feel guilty. As soon as you said it, you realised that what you actually wanted was for someone not to let you retreat—but it was too late for that.

Viktor took in a shaky breath, his gaze returning to yours, but he still looked uncertain. “I can’t do that,” he said quietly, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place. “I can’t be just your friend.” His hands clenched into fists on the table. “I... I’ve tried to be fine with it, but I’m not. I can’t pretend.”

“But I don’t know how to be anything else,” he added after a beat, his mind flicking back to all the times he’d snuck out of someone’s bedroom or when he found himself alone in the morning, in his own cold, sweaty bed. After some time, it became a habit, a quiet indulgence that carried no consequences, and it aligned very well with his main goal: to make his life more than it was meant to be. No distractions, only his goal. Some distractions, but not too many. Only friendships, and here as well, only the stimulating ones. To keep his brain fed, so his soul could starve.

“I have worked… so hard,” he brushed his hand through his hair. “To get where I am. I was meant to fail, and I haven’t failed once. I haven’t failed a single time, aside from some tiny, insignificant stumbles that eventually lead me to answers anyway. So many times I haven’t failed that I don’t think I know how to,” his voice was quiet, as if admitting something shameful. He said it as though any slip-up could cost him everything he’s worked for.

“I… understand,” you said slowly, piecing together the crumbs of information. Viktor didn’t come from a place of love, like you did. He didn’t come from a place of opportunity. He probably had to claw his way through pompous academics who didn’t take him seriously. You understood that part. But what was your part in turning it all to dust—that eluded you. So you didn’t understand, not entirely.

“Do you?” he looked at you longingly, expectantly, and it made your heart ache. What was it that you were supposed to give him now? A promise you would never hurt him? That you would never distract him or drag his mind away from what’s important?

“Viktor, this shouldn’t be so hard, I’m not some mythical creature,” you said, trying to inject a touch of humour into your voice, but it came out thin, brittle.

Viktor’s gaze softened, but the intensity in his eyes remained. He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and steady. “No, you’re not,” he murmured, as if trying to reconcile something inside himself. “But you’re not like anyone else either.”

Your chest tightened at the words, but you quickly pushed it aside, unwilling to let yourself feel vulnerable. You folded your arms across your chest, as if protecting yourself from something you couldn’t name. “I don’t want to be a puzzle for you to solve, Viktor. I don’t want to be some challenge you feel like you need to conquer. That’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing as he processed your words. He wanted to argue, to convince you that it wasn’t about conquest, that it was about something deeper, but he could tell it wasn’t the right time. Not yet. “I don’t… I don’t think of you like that,” he said, his voice almost too soft, as if afraid to break the fragile moment between you. “I think of you as someone I want to understand, someone who...” He trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence, the words feeling too heavy in the air.

You shifted in your seat, your eyes narrowing slightly as you considered his words. There was a vulnerability in his voice, a quiet sincerity that you weren’t used to hearing. You almost wanted to reach out, to ease the tension that hung between you, but you held yourself back.

There was a long, aching pause between you before Viktor cleared his throat and leaned back, trying to break the silence. “So,” he said, the words coming out in a lighter tone, “how many do-overs do you think we can have?”

You rolled your eyes at him, a small, rueful smile tugging at your lips. “I find myself hoping that each one is the last one,” you replied dryly, though your heart wasn’t fully in the jest. “Thank you for all the help.”

Viktor smiled, a faint, almost self-deprecating chuckle escaping him. “Oh, no worries. I’ll see you at the Christmas party?” he asked, his voice a little uncertain, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d respond.

You nodded, your expression softening just slightly. “Yeah, I’ll be there,” you said, your tone neutral, but not dismissive. “Take care, Viktor.”

With that, you parted ways, the lingering tension still hanging between you, neither fully satisfied with the conversation, but both with the understanding that you were somehow still connected—however uncertain that connection was.

You found an unbearable thought gnawing at you—that in this state, the only ‘do-over’ you could count on was friendship, and Viktor couldn’t afford that. Inevitably, it would end with nothing.

***

It wasn’t exactly a party, but the pub was completely packed with people—students, assistants, and random individuals who wandered around campus, their roles in it a complete mystery. Everything was bathed in the warm glow of Christmas decorations, making the space feel even more cramped.

You sat at a small round table with Sue, some familiar faces scattered around, including Jayce and Viktor, who had joined after their TA duties. Sue was mid-sentence when you leaned back in your chair, your eyes wandering. You weren’t in the mood for all the noise tonight. The words blurred around you as you half-listened, your fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of your glass—a quiet distraction. Viktor was talking to Jayce, his sharp voice cutting through the noise every now and then. His dry wit was always on full display, the kind that kept people around him in that odd mix of awe and wariness.

“You okay?” Sue’s voice brought you back. You blinked, nodding slowly.

“Yeah, just... tired, I guess,” you said, forcing a polite smile as you took a sip of your drink.

The room was hazy with cigarette smoke, the heat becoming unbearable. The whole scene was so unbearably sweet and cozy that it made you flinch. Your eyes kept glancing over to Viktor, who would immediately look away as soon as your gazes met. You kept thinking about what another do-over could look like and felt yourself growing more and more frustrated with the space between you, even though you were sitting so close to each other. You could feel Sue's eyes on you but couldn’t quite explain why you felt this way.

Sue raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Well, if you need to bail early, I totally get it.”

You hesitated, then gave a half shrug. “I think I’ll head out. Just... not feeling it, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Sue replied, offering a quick nod. “See you later?”

“Yeah.” You stood, grabbing your coat from the back of your chair. As you made your way through the maze of tables, you could hear Viktor's voice in the background—just enough to make you pause. You could feel his gaze on you, but you ignored it, focusing instead on the exit.

Viktor watched as you stood and walked away, a wave of frustration rising within him, forming itself into a long sigh. He had tried, hadn’t he? He had said things—things he never said to anyone—but now you were leaving, retreating like always. His jaw tightened, and he felt his fingers curl into fists on the table. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, not after everything. He should’ve known better, but still, your departure stung.

He couldn’t place why, but it felt like you were slipping away just as he was beginning to reach out. You were both so fucking terrible at talking, at letting yourselves feel anything real. Why did it have to be so difficult?

The cold air hit you as soon as you stepped outside, and for a moment, it felt like a relief. The street was quiet, the only sound the crunch of snow beneath your boots. You slid your headphones on and started walking toward the dorms, matching your steps to the rhythm of the song.

You awaited rest and home and being far away from here with utter impatience. Just one more evening of this. Just one more evening of thinking and biting at your own lips, glancing at your phone, and then it would only be your parents, and Hale, and the quiet evenings at Sheffield, for a week.

Against reason, Viktor followed you, his footsteps soft but steady as he stepped out of the pub moments later. His eyes caught sight of your retreating figure, and a small, amused smile played at the corner of his lips. He’d almost not been surprised—almost expected it.

He called out your name, his voice lost to the wind and muffled by the sounds of the night. But you didn’t hear him. Quickening his pace, his breath misted in the cold air. He called again, louder this time, but still, you didn’t turn.

A small part of him considered letting you go, letting you stew in your thoughts, just leaving it for after the break. But the rest of him felt pulled, like a dog on a leash in front of a vet’s door.

You were nearing the entrance to the dorms when you finally paused, taking a deep breath, and tugging your headphones off with a slight wince. The moment you heard your name, you froze, your heart skipping in your chest.

“Hey you!” Viktor’s voice was closer now, cutting through the night. When you turned, you saw him standing at the edge of the walkway, just outside the dorm. His breath came in visible puffs, his chest heaving as if he’d run after you.

“You walk... so fucking fast,” he said, still catching his breath. “I never figured you for the type to run off so bluntly. But I suppose that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?” Yes, just laugh it out. Viktor took a few steps forward, leaning heavily on his cane.

“Are you fucking drunk again?” you blinked, your mind racing. You had to admit to yourself that Viktor drunkenly following you from the bar was a coin toss you wouldn’t have bet on. Especially after your last talk. Funny.

“Are you not?” he countered, his words smoother than you expected.

“No. Go back to your pub, Viktor.” Your voice was flat now, each word carefully measured. You exhaled sharply, your shoulders sinking as if the weight of the evening had finally caught up with you. You were so tired of this.

Viktor tilted his head, his smile barely visible in the shadows as he took a step closer. “Eh, make me,” he said softly, though it wasn’t a challenge—not really.

Another step.

“I am so not in the mood for you now,” you muttered, your hands dropping limply by your sides as you turned away, dragging yourself down the corridor toward the elevators. Your voice lacked its usual bite, tinged instead with exhaustion.

“Alright, alright, I’m not drunk, just had one pint. Oh, come on,” Viktor mock-pleaded, his cane tapping lightly against the floor as he quickened his pace to catch up with you. “You won’t see me the entire holiday break.”

“And I will savour every single day of this glorious relief from your constant nagging, poking, your sweet side and your dick side, and having fun at my expense,” you snapped, jabbing the elevator button with increasing impatience, your words punctuated by each press.

You were expecting another joke, but Viktor’s hands gripped your waist firmly, twisting you around. Your breath caught as he pulled you flush against him, the heat of his body sharp against the cold you’d carried in from outside.

“Shut up,” he breathed, his voice raw and ragged as his lips found yours. The kiss was unsteady, heated, and messy, tasting faintly of sweet beer and a frustration that mirrored your own. He panted into your mouth, his lips parting just enough to nip at yours.

“Just… shut up, for once,” he murmured, crowding you against the elevator door. It slid open behind you with a soft chime, and you stumbled inside, Viktor’s cane clattering to the floor as he steadied you against the wall. He pulled your turtleneck down to lick your neck greedily over the bite mark he had left there. His hands quickly found their way under your sweater, and he gasped, bemused by your lack of underwear. “No bra?” Again. A low chuckle rumbled against your skin. “Is that your idea of a Christmas present?”

“Fuck off,” you scoffed, your voice still sharp with lingering anger. Your hands pressed against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but the lack of real force and your hands still gripping his coat tightly betrayed you.

“Are you sure?” Viktor smirked, his grip firm as he tilted your chin up, pressing a lingering, deceptively sweet kiss to your lips. “This is your floor,” he said, his voice agonizingly calm as he stepped back, gesturing toward the elevator doors sliding open.

“Or…” His tone shifted, almost teasing, as he pressed the button to close the doors and send them up to his floor instead. “You could come with me. For real, this time.”

You pulled him wordlessly toward you, offering no resistance—nothing more, nothing less. Words had failed you, but your actions were clear. It was enough. Viktor wanted to say, That’s what I thought, the words teasing the edge of his tongue, but he held them back. Instead, he captured your lips again, kissing frantically. He explored your mouth, swallowing the small sounds you made, the elevator a blur as it carried you upward.

By the time you reached his room, Viktor managed to open the door without breaking the kiss, his cane hanging hooked over his arm. You stumbled inside together, the heat between you growing unbearable, and he pressed you firmly against the door, his hands bracing your hips as his lips moved over yours with unrelenting zeal. You pulled him closer, your breath catching as you managed to rasp, “Bed?”

Viktor chuckled softly against your lips; his tone laced with teasing. “Impatient, are we?” But there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze, the way his hands tightened on your hips as he broke the kiss just long enough to guide you further into the room.

“Fuck you,” you muttered, your voice raw as your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him with you.

“Yes. Please, fuck me,” Viktor murmured, sweeping you into another fervent kiss as you stumbled toward the bed. “I’m so tired of you not fucking me.”

You scoffed into his mouth. And who is to blame for that? You sunk into the mattress, pulling Viktor with you by his belt, the cane poking your leg.

“Why are you wearing so many clothes?” he whined, his voice laced with frustration as his clumsy hands fumbled with your coat. His hasty movements betrayed him, and in the rush, his knee accidentally pressed against your arm.

“Ow!” you winced, your sharp tone softening as you glanced at his face. The irritation melted away when you saw the unabashed eagerness in his expression, the way his brow furrowed in determination despite his lack of grace. “Is this going to be painful?” you asked, your lips quirking in a faint, teasing smile, though your voice still held a trace of genuine concern.

Viktor froze, blinking down at you like a scolded child. “Only if you want it to be,” he muttered, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he leaned back to regroup. His fingers moved more carefully now, peeling the coat off from underneath you with exaggerated precision. “Better?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Viktor granted you a low chuckle, his lips quirking in that familiar, lopsided smirk. “Ridiculous, perhaps, but effective,” he murmured as he continued with his careful work, peeling away the layers of your clothing like unwrapping a particularly stubborn present.

His own clothes, however, didn’t receive the same treatment. He shed them with reckless abandon, tossing each piece into an ever-growing messy pile near the bed, his leg brace a crown on top of it. His cane clattered softly to the floor as he leaned back for balance, the faintest flush spreading across his cheeks.

Once you were both were bare, he ran his palms gently along your sides and pressed his face to your hip, your belly, your neck, inhaling your skin. “God, you are so infuriating,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your body.

He glued himself to you, his hands roaming wherever they could reach, as if this were the moment he’d been waiting to happen for the longest time. And it was, of course. The decision to toss everything aside and just jump in might have been reckless, but he had no capacity to decide otherwise.

“Infuriating?” you laughed, feigning offense. “Is that the way you treat all of your conquests? Make them follow you around by the nose for months, until your resolve finally breaks after one pint?”

“No, only you,” he replied smoothly, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He added with a sly smirk, “It’s my love language with you.”

“Love?” you repeated, voice laced with teasing incredulity, but the hesitation in your tone betrayed how the word caught you off guard.

“Shut up,” Viktor muttered, his hand gliding up your side as he kissed you, silencing your laughter before you could push further. “Attraction,” he murmured against your neck, his lips pressing a lingering kiss there. “Want,” he added, his teeth grazing your breast, earning a sharp gasp from your mouth. “Admiration,” he said, coming back up to meet your eyes and give you a slow, steady kiss. He took your fingers into his mouth and watched your eyes flutter shut, your lips parting.

His voice dipped lower, teasing, and dangerous. “Anyway, is that not what we have been doing?” His hands explored the meat of your ass with a firm grip, his touch both intoxicating and commanding as he pressed himself flush against your core. He shifted against you with a kind of intimacy that had your breath hitching.

“Have you not been loving me all this time?” His words, soft and taunting, carried a heat that matched the tension thrumming between you. His hand moved down between your thighs to scoop your wetness and lick it off his fingers, as he made sure you were watching. “Ah, it seems,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, “you’ve been loving me back all along.”

You trembled under him, your breath catching as your hands gripped his shoulders. A quiet plea escaped your lips, barely audible but filled with vulnerability. “Don’t be mean, Viktor.”

For a moment, he stilled, his expression softening as he pulled back to look at you. His golden eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, held a flicker of something warmer, deeper. “Mean?” he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “No. Not with you.”

The teasing edge in his voice melted away as he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, slow and deliberate, as though trying to convey what words couldn’t. He was so bad at talking if you thought he was being mean. His hands cradled your face, and his next words came as a low promise against your skin. “I could never be mean to you.”

You huffed softly, a half-laugh escaping you as memories of all the times he’d actually been mean flitted through your mind. “Liar,” you muttered against his lips, though there was no venom in your tone. Instead, you kissed him back longingly, your fingers threading into his hair as your thighs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer.

Viktor exhaled a shaky breath, his control fraying under your touch. “Perhaps,” he admitted with a faint, self-deprecating smile, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. “But you give as good as you get, don’t you?” he said playfully, reaching over to pull a condom out of his bedside drawer and put it on swiftly. Then, he grabbed a spare pillow to prop his leg. His belly was tied into a knot, teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, as he placed one hand between where your bodies were going to meet to align himself at the entrance.

He studied your face, as if to check if there was any resistance left. But you only looked at him with wide eyes, your hands fisting the bed sheet. He swept through his body in a final calculation of what could go wrong—he wasn’t drunk, that was a good start. His leg, eh, not perfect, but he should be able to pull this off. Did he want to love you or tease you? He had forgotten which one it was. A shuddery breath escaped him when your bodies finally connected—he entered you slowly, holding back to lay on top of you.

The first thrust was so deliberate, so slow, so overwhelming that you both moaned into each other's mouths. Your brows tied themselves together, your palms stiff in hesitation over his shoulders, as the feeling of relief surged through you. A relief of finally not being empty.

The only movement Viktor allowed himself was the roll of his hips as he sunk inside you, beat after beat. His arms caged you in, one of his hands gripping your shoulder, the other cradling the base of your skull, as he kept your faces close so he could study you, watch you. He stared at you obscenely, taking in your expressions, disbelief wrenching breath out of his lungs. You really wanted him. You were holding him in a vacuous trap, making it hard to pull out and push back in.

And this wasn’t new. People wanted him, he knew that. They wanted him for this—for a fun fuck—and when they continued to want him afterward, it felt like a fluke. So he shut it down. And it made him feel powerful. No, it made him feel weak. It made his weakness powerful. It gave him the power to disappear from it, from himself, to not be present.

The fact that he was present now, attentive, was rather new for him. Not entirely—he’d had a glimpse of what it could be that night when you were high together, but he hadn’t dared breach the boundary of clothing then. This, though, was entirely different. He watched you so carefully, studying every reaction to his touch. He pushed where you gasped and retreated where you winced. Your kisses were as hungry as his, and it made him feel so full. The fuck was more than fun. It made him feel powerful in a way that didn’t make him feel weak.

He tightened his grip, his forehead resting on yours as he buried himself deep inside, thrust after thrust. His mouth open against you, breathing in every gasp, every whimper you were willing to give him. His pace was even, unwavering, as he murmured against your lips, “You’ve been giving me so much grief.”

He locked eyes with you, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he added, “But it really feels like you’ve been loving me back. Haven’t you?” His voice was soft, as though waiting for you to answer not just with words, but with the quiet truth in your eyes.

You slid your fingers into his hair, pulling him in for another desperate kiss, and Viktor caught a faint, barely audible ‘yes,’ offered to drown deep in his throat, traveling straight to his heart, as if you were offering him a secret you hadn’t meant to give away. The sound stirred something deep within him, and as you arched against him, your breath catching, he deepened the kiss and quickened his pace. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, murmuring quiet praises, each word filled with reverence as you moved together toward completion.

He slid one hand to the nape of your neck, another snaked itself between your bodies, his fingers parting you as he whispered softly, “Oh, my girl.” Your eyes fluttered shut, arms wrapping around his shoulders and you muffled your own moan against his mouth, lips and noses brushing against each other. He rubbed lazy circles on your clit, a smile blooming on his face when he felt your back arching beneath him, hips pressing upward to meet his, your cunt clenching around his cock in a tight, needy hug.

He felt your thighs squeezing his hips, your walls fluttering, pulling him deeper inside you, with you. You dug your nails into his shoulders, lips parted pressed against his, foreheads pressed together mingling droplets of sweat into one.

You felt a sudden urge to say, “Thank you,” distorted by a loud moan as you came on his cock, on his fingers, your body tensing up and bending to the sound of his name falling from her lips. It took a long time, and you thought it would never stop, your climax blinding, contorting your body around him with a force to bend and crush.

Viktor’s mind got invaded by a thought of how great it felt to make a girl such as yourself lose control over her own muscles. How it had made him grow taller and bigger, his heart swollen with your grace, his lips bruised from your teeth. Slowly, he worked you through each spasm, and when you were ready, he retreated his hand to wrap both arms around you and buried his face in your neck. His breathing jagged, teeth sinking into your shoulder to not say too much at the sudden tightness around his cock.

His rhythm began to stutter, movements growing urgent by the minute as he buried himself within you up to the hilt. His breath was uneven, his muscles flexing and twisting. He felt your core hugging his cock so tight, he couldn’t hold back his own panting, as if he were a teenager all over again. He moved his face to brush against yours, whispered your name again, voice trembling, and he came with one thick, everlasting pang, whimpering weakly into your mouth.

His body melted into yours with a long, contented sigh, his arms wrapped tightly around you, stomachs and chests pressed, rising and falling together. You stayed like that in silence for a few moments, not moving, just touching, just breathing, just being.

Finally, Viktor rolled you both to the side, his leg hooked over your hip, fingers threading through your hair, and gave you an almost solemn look.

“What is this face?” you asked softly, cupping his cheek and brushing your thumb across his lip.

He sucked on it slowly, not breaking eye contact. “I never thought you would be so…” His voice trailed off for a moment, and just as you braced yourself for another joke, he finished, “wonderful.”

You managed only to whisper a quiet “Viktor—,” your grip tightening around him as the weight of this little praise crushed you. As his eyes crushed you, his warmth crushed you, as you crushed yourself with everything you wanted to say but couldn’t.

Viktor pulled back just a few inches, his gaze searching yours. “Are you going away for Christmas tomorrow?” he asked, his voice soft, almost tentative. Normal.

You nodded slowly, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you answered, “Yeah.”

“Will you stay?” Please, stay. Please don’t have me wake up alone tomorrow. A weakness crept back in.

You nodded against his neck. A quiet breath escaped Viktor’s lips as he leaned in to kiss your forehead, pulling you back against him. He sighed softly, the sound almost like a weight lifting. He didn’t speak for a few moments, just holding you as if afraid you might disappear if he let go.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice quieter now. “I have no idea how I’m going to explain my absence to Sue though.”

Viktor’s lips curled into a playful smirk, and he raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, his voice teasing. “I’ll just tell her you got really into the holiday spirit and had to spend the night with your favourite TA.”

You chuckled softly, the tension between you easing just a little. “I’m sure she’ll believe that,” you replied, though the words felt lighter now, softer.

Viktor’s expression shifted to one of mock seriousness as he pulled you a little closer. “But tomorrow, when the morning comes,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, “I’ll have to call it in. You caught me drunk, used me for your advantage,” he paused, his eyes glinting with mischief, “and I’ll make sure everyone knows it.”

You let out a small laugh, your face flushing slightly at the absurdity of the situation. “Selling me out already, I see how this will go,” you said, teasing him back. “I’m sure you won’t mind telling them how you practically begged me to stay the night and cuddle you.”

Viktor smiled, but his eyes softened. “I won’t,” he murmured, pressing his lips to your temple again, holding you in the quiet aftermath. The moment felt almost unreal—so intimate, so fragile—and yet, there you were. He wouldn’t dare break it by asking for more. And even though Viktor’s chest was still swollen with fear, his mind drifted to sleep in your arms.

Your own mind, however, was restless. As the high of your connection faded, you woke up early, your thoughts gnawing at you. Viktor was fast asleep, his expression so peaceful that you couldn’t believe he had a bad bone in his body. Yet, you had been stabbed so many times. It wasn’t real, was it? It couldn’t be over, just like that. What if he was right, and you weren’t meant to share the awkwardness of the morning? What if he tried to shrug it off once he woke up? Would you survive if he did?

No. You wouldn’t.

Cursing yourself, you slid out of bed, put your clothes back on, and gave Viktor, who was sleeping soundly, one last glance that tore through your soul. And left.

***

The morning light crept through the gaps in the blinds, painting pale stripes across the sheets. Viktor stirred, his body heavy and warm, though there was an odd hollowness in the bed. He reached out instinctively, the fog of sleep not yet cleared, his fingers brushing against nothing but the cold fabric of the mattress. His eyes blinked open.

The room was silent.

He sat up slowly, scanning the space, the sense of emptiness clawing at him as the realisation began to take shape. You were gone.

The sheets beside him were rumpled, but the space was cold, long abandoned. For a moment, he stared at the spot you’d occupied, trying to convince himself you might still be here. Perhaps you were in the bathroom, or in his tiny kitchen searching for tea—but no sound of movement met his ears.

A chill crept through his chest, spreading outwards, a tight knot forming in his stomach. You left.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his movements clumsy, hurried, his leg straining without the brace. There had to be something—a note, a message, anything that might explain. The bedside table was empty. The dresser? Nothing. Viktor opened a drawer, then another, rifling through with increasing desperation, though he knew even as he searched how ridiculous it was. You wouldn’t leave a note in a drawer.

His gaze snapped to his phone. He lunged for it, unlocking the screen with trembling fingers. Nothing. No missed calls. No texts.

He stood there in the middle of the room, staring at the empty screen. His chest tightened, his breaths coming faster, each one shallower than the last. Of course.

What had he been thinking? That after all his fumbling, after all his glaring flaws, you would stay? That someone like you, bright and untamed, would want someone like him—a man who could barely navigate his own feelings without tripping over them?

Right. His fingers clenched around the phone, the pressure digging into his palm. How stupid. How painfully, pathetically stupid. How weak.

He sank back onto the bed, his head in his hands. The weight of the silence pressed down on him. Every echo in the room seemed to mock him. The bed felt too big now, the walls closing in too fast. His mind replayed your smile, your laugh, the warmth in your eyes last night, and it made his chest ache. How could you think you’d earned something like this?

And yet, beneath the sinking despair, anger simmered. At himself. At you. At the cruel absurdity of it all. You’d kissed him, held him, and for a brief moment, he’d thought you were standing on equal ground. But the truth was stark now, laid bare in her absence: you’d left. Or maybe that was an equal ground, after all. Now, you were truly even.

A sharp knock at the door jolted him from his spiralling thoughts. He didn’t answer immediately, hoping whoever it was would go away, but the knock came again, louder this time.

“Viktor?” Jayce’s familiar voice called from the other side. “You ready? We’ve got to leave in half an hour, mate.”

Viktor swallowed hard; his throat dry. His hands slowly dropped from his face as he stared at the door. Jayce’s voice was too cheerful, too ordinary, too far removed from the storm brewing inside him. He wanted to shout at him, to tell him to go away, but the words wouldn’t come.

“I’ll be ready,” he croaked after a pause, his voice hoarse and thin.

There was silence on the other side of the door for a moment, then the sound of Jayce’s footsteps retreating down the hall. Viktor exhaled shakily, his gaze drifting back to the rumpled sheets beside him. Forcing himself to move, he stood and began to gather his things. Each motion felt mechanical, hollow. The knot in his chest didn’t loosen, but he pushed it down, swallowing it whole. It was almost Christmas. He had to pretend. At least for a little while longer.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #the game of teaching body

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lovetei · 2 years ago

Note

Heyyy,

I saw your toxic things the demon bros will do to keep you with them and i absolutely fell in love with. More of, my mental health issues felll in love with- ANYGAYSzz

I was wondering if you could maybe do the same for the side characters¿¿¿¿

Also did you drink water today? Cuz if thats a no here you go 💧💧💧💧

And some cookies just incase 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

Love anonymous 👑

I'm not actually supposed to post anything for tonight, because I don't know? I didn't get to start anything this morning so I crammed this post T_T

But love lots! Hope you enjoy this piece ^^

But seriously, I was like "Oh shit, the algorithm I don't have!" And proceed to finish this.

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

What are the most toxic thing they will do in a relationship just to make you stay with them?

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Warnings: Manipulation, yandere themes, execution, mention of torture, psychological torture, love potions, Mentions of murder, framing, alcohol

Links: Masterlist

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

DIAVOLO will use his authority

He's already so happy to have you by his side

And by staying there you already secured the position of the next ruler that will stand beside him

So, why do you have to leave..?

And the reasons

"I'm not fit enough..."

"I don't deserve this much..!"

"There are more people out there that are more worthy than me..."

Won't cut it.

He knows your worth and he's sure you do too.

So why?

Perhaps you're just nervous that you won't be able to match his grace?

You don't need to.

His grace is unmatched among the demons and yours is too among the mortals.

You both are on the same chapter, just on different pages.

So why make things hard for yourself?!

All you need to do is say yes and everything will be taken care of.

Clothes, food, money, status, security and literally anything.

He loves you and you does too so it's not going to be a marriage with no love...

SO WHY?

You're starting to drive him insane, MC.

And he might just do the same to you

So he'll invite you over for a fancy dinner and a few drinks

You accepted, despite knowing that Diavolo might try something after he got you drunk

Thinking that Diavolo forgot that you can't get drunk by just a basic demonus

Fool

That's what you are for thinking Diavolo actually misses something, anything about you

So he changed the bottle of demonus to an actual human liquor but neutralized it's taste by the help of his one, loyal servant

Barbatos

Not even two hour passed by and you're already putty in his hands

Dancing just like how he wants it on his palms

Then he'll slide a paper into the table to you, together with a beautiful pen

He then point at an empty line with his finger and said "Look at that MC, this line right here wants your signature."

"Hmm, why?~"

"Because it's such a huge fan of you and it needs you to become something, someone better, so why don't you give it a sign?" Is what he said while smirking.

And there you are, signing the papers while your mind is clouded with alcohol

Oh what is it?

Just a marriage contract

You don't want it?

Look into rules and regulations, Claus 5

It's against your human rights?

How foolish, you're not in the human world.

You will tell the whole Devildom about it?

Lèse majesté

And what's the punishment for committing that? Simple.

Death.

BARBATOS and his timeline power

He loves you

So much actually

At first, it was fun to be in a relationship with him

It's fun, slowly opening him up like a present and seeing the gift, a part of him that only you know.

He builds up trust for you and so do you for him

Then it started to get suffocating

He won't admit it openly but you know,

You know that the one who kills anyone who dared act close with you is him

And it terrifies you

You may allow it if it actually harms you, severely

But it's not for your protection anymore

He's doing it out of pure annoyance now

He doesn't like you around the brothers

The angels

Solomon

Thirteen

Or even Lord Diavolo

In fact, he doesn't want you around anyone.

And it's making you feel more unsafe

He's starting to isolate you from everyone and everything

He's trying to isolate you from the world

So you decided to end things with him

And he doesn't seem to take it lightly like how you expected...

How did you know?

Simple.

You woke up weeks before that break up happened

You know how it happened and you know who made it happen

It's none other than your boyfriend of course

You thought that maybe if you talk nicely with him he'll actually understand the problem

But he didn't

He started to get more and more aggressive with you

Then when the week end

It repeats

And repeats

And repeats again

And again

But it will keep going on like that until you learn

Until you learn that there's no other option than him

No other ending than him

He doesn't mind driving you crazy if it means you'll continue to love him

So good luck, MC.

SIMEON might just ask Father for help

Ho doesn't understand!

Why would you want to break up with him?!

He did everything, MC!

It's not clear!

Nothing is clear!

You just belive that you two are not fit together..?

You don't want him to end up like Lilith..?

He doesn't care!

He'll burn these precious, white wings for you!

He'll kill for you!

He'd actually prefer to end up like Lilith rather than this!

Because, at least, Lilith managed to be with her love until her life ended...

He'd rather be a demon or a human rather then live like the adored angel he is without you...

...

You'll still leave huh?

Alright then.

I guess he has no choice but to ask Father for help

What do you mean it will cause him to fall? Oh dear, it won't.

It might actually even promote him into a higher rank.

Father wants you in his side.

In fact, the whole celestial realm want you on this side

So when he asked "Father, it seems that we need to take even larger measure to have MC side with us. What do you think we can do?"

...oh?

Luke?

What a brilliant plan.

Now,

Let's see if you can still leave knowing an innocent life, Luke, will be put under danger because of this tantrum,

Because of you.

SOLOMON and his hidden antics

Oh dear, angel

His little devil

His most prized possession

His favorite concubine,

You won't be leaving him anytime soon, dear.

When you told him that "I want to break up with you."

He kept himself quite for a while before answering "Let me give it some thought, MC. For now, stay with me."

And just as he expected you listened obediently.

But then, his grip around your waits became more rough

And the hand he used to playfully wrap around your neck became more tight

It's hard...

It's hard to feed you his love laced cooking

But he found out that you just loves, adored even, Luke's baked cookies...

And since you're a human, he knows that Luke creates special cookies just for you

One that don't contain exotic ingredients that will upset your stomach

And it just made the work of latching love potions easier for him

He'll just add a few drops and it will do the magic for him

So, all he has to do sit tight

And wait for you to crawl back to his lap yourself.

RAPHAEL will use spears for example

Haha...

But he loves you, MC..?

He might just start crying if you say more

"Sure... But I'll make sure you'll come back to me..!"

At first, it sounded like a joke and it's funny enough to make you giggle

The beautiful memories of peaceful separation didn't last long after you saw a dead body pinned by spears though

His spears, to be specific

It doesn't even make sense

You don't even know this guy...

He hasn't talk to you and you don't even know him

Hell, you don't even recognize his face...

So what's the catch?

Why is he killing completely random people...

That's what have been running around your mind

You haven't seen him around RAD anymore

And if you do he refuse to answer your questions

Except his face will lightly flush and he'll even smile a little before sa say "Ah~ It's nice hearing your voice..."

His tone, the way he says it, none of theme are innocent

And he made it known that he knows what he's doing

The curiosity didn't last long

Until you found out that the corpses aren't for you from him as a threat

It was for the families of the victims

You found out that each of them have high power among the nobilities of Devildom

And he killed them to make the families think that you're telling him to do so

It's not to make you feel guilty, it for them to start attacking you

Until you're pushed back to a corner where no one else can save you

Except for him.

MEPHISTOPHELES's way only

Ha...

Man he loves you so much...

But all he do is stare at you blankly after you told him you ant to break up

Staring at you like you're just some kid throwing a tantrum

It's Mephistopheles in front of you, I mean, he's rich, handsome, tall, smart and has good family background

If he's a human everybody would have gone crazy over him already

Plus he wears heels and he has a sexy cane

What more could you ask for?

But yeah...

You don't want to be with him forever?

Sure, he'll talk to Diavolo.

"I'll buy MC's contract and I'll put them under my wing." Is all the reason he needs to say and a few more to have Diavolo selling you

What about your family?

This amount will do right?

I mean...

He paid for what your worth so don't expect it to be much.

Anyways, you're his now

By the eyes of the law, money and his

He'll never let you get away?

And if you did try to?

He'll simply frame you for treason and let's see if you won't come crawling back to him

After finding out that he can choose what type of punishment, torture method, to give you.

But don't worry.

He likes the game cat and mouse

He don't like playing it for a long time though

So be careful

His patience isn't as long as the line of money and connection ahead of him

THIRTEEN basically holds your life

Break up?

"You're not." Is all she said as she holds your candle

She's grinning widely as she let your candle melt, its 's wax falling directly in her hands

"Why would you even want to?" She asked even though she knows, no reason can separate the two of you

And if you did say "I don't care." as she holds you candle

She might just accidentally extinguish one of your loved ones candles

So be careful, MC.

Among everyone

She's the only one who won't joke around.

And just so you know

Her patience is shorter than the amount of time it requires to kill someone's fire off of their candle.

#obey me fluff #obey me headcanons #obey me nightbringer #obey me scenarios #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me angst #obey me Diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me Raphael #obey me Mephistopheles #obey me thirteen #obey me yandere

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wandixx · 1 month ago

Text

Christmas in Mount Justice

cartoon version of Young Justice, written instead of sleeping and I'll be honest, I kinda run out of steam at the end, but it'd take me until next year if I didn't push through, so here it is, and hopefully it's not quite visible where I started pushing through it, I hope you'll enjoy

words: 4633

“Since, hopefully, this is the last time we're seeing each other before Christmas–” Black Canary announced, stretching after finished training“ I wish you all merry and healthy and boring Christmas” she finished with a wide warm smile. Danny barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. This goddamn worst time of the year. He checked once more if his mental shields were up. According to M'gann, ghosts were really loud on mind reading wavelengths so he needed to keep them up most of the time. He wasn't an asshole to drown his friend in absolute hatred of Christmas.

“You too Black Canary!” Wally yelled, running like the earth was burning to get cookies M'gann baked “By the way, what are your plans?” he asked upon his return.

Did they really have to keep talking about it? Danny was half considering just dropping through the floor to escape this conversation but chose against it because he really didn't want to answer all the questions it would cause or hear a ‘you can't deal with all unwanted conversations by escaping them’ lecture again any time soon. He could and he would, the Freakshow incident was just one way to prove it.

“B and I have to attend some stuffy rich people party” Robin said with clear displeasure “I still need to plan what mess to stir there. Chandeliers swinging are banned and so is arson so I have to get creative.”

“You actually set something on fire?! That's sick as hell!” the speedster's enthusiasm didn't waver as he threw a few cookies at Danny. It was nice that someone remembered about Danny's slightly enhanced metabolism. They (both Young Justice and Amity squad) still didn't understand it completely but the working hypothesis was that he needed to eat more to make up for ectoplasm he couldn't consume in quantities big enough for his ghost side since it was poisonous to humans and he had to dose it carefully. Being a halfa was rough like that some(most)times.

“Well, lighter is easy to sneak inside–” Robin explained and honestly Danny never expected to hear Gotham’s feared vigilante go over logistics of arson but he guessed it was his life now, he could use this info to do something about at least one Christmas tree in Amity or share it with Sam. She mentioned some upcoming rich people party too”–and amount of alcohol there is astonishing, really you'd think that people would try to stay sober on event like that but apparently–”

“I'm having dinner with my mom and some family friends–” Artemis interrupted “Can't wait spend God knows how many hours with all of them talking over each other and asking awkward questions” she tried to sound displeased but there was no way she could hide her fondness and wasn't that a wild thing to see. Seriously, he almost choked on a cookie. In theory Danny knew some people genuinely liked Christmes but–

Just like that? Just happy to–

Yeah, he knew but couldn't quite comprehend. Sam was exactly like that, found but trying to seem annoyed to keep up with her goth persona. Tucker was way more open about his delight.

For Danny Christmas was only too loud because everyone was singing badly and too bright because of lights and too stuffy and there was this damned argument about Santa and yelling and fe–

“Oh, me too! We also planned a movie night with Central Rogues, this time it's Cold’s turn. I wish he won't pick Die Hard again…”

Well, Danny guessed movie night with Rogues, that clearly meant an off evening since they wouldn't try to stir things up while watching the movie, sounded like a really nice idea. Personally he would do without people who try to turn him into a pulp every other day but apparently things worked differently in Central.

“King Orin wanted to introduce me to some surface celebrations as well,” Kaldur said with a warm smile and halfa forcefully stopped himself from giving their leader a weird look. Even him?! Betrayal, absolute betrayal!

“Well, I don't really celebrate so I'm staying here, maybe training a bit, I'm not sure yet,” M'gann announced shyly and it took all his willpower to not hug her for being the only sensible person in the room.

“Yeah, I'm staying too. Apparently I'm not invited to family gatherings” Conner added bitterly.

“Honestly your not missing much,” Danny muttered “It's just perfectly prepared and measured argument breeding space, believe me”

Wally tried to protest but one pointed glare and it dissolved through power of ‘don't make Conner feel about it any worse than he already does’. Danny felt a little guilty for using it to sooth his own hatred towards Christmas but not too much. He really wanted to reassure his friend and ways he went about it were no one else's business.

“And what are your plans, Danny?” M'gann asked gently after he didn't continue. He really wished he didn't have to answer but keeping his emotions hidden meant nobody could see that something was up and say ‘you don't have to tell if you don't want to’ or other shit like that.

“Not sure yet. I think I will crash with you here honestly. If we believe this magic book we found, there is a Christmas truce in Zone, so there shouldn't be any ghost attacks and your company is always great,” he smiled sincerely.

“Wouldn't your parents ask questions if you just skipped Christmas, though?” Wally asked a bit cautiously but Danny waved his concern off with a vague ‘eh’ sound.

“Will you show us some Christmas traditions then? As a part of ‘earthly traditions’ course?” M'gann's eyes almost shone with excitement and Conner looked hopeful and it made him feel conflicted. The whole point of crashing in Mount Justice with two aliens was to not touch anything Christmas related with thirty feet long stick but alas M'gann asked nicely and was pretty. These were two big ideals fighting inside of him then and there while he tried to keep his face and outer mind blank enough to not bring any suspicion.

Betrayal to second, no third, power! He wanted to escape this hell of an experience!

But well, he could shape the experience in a way that's the least painful and M'gann and Conner were really great friends…

“Sure”

He couldn't quite match her enthusiastic grin or even Conner’s bit smaller one.

He was going to regret it, wouldn't he?

***

“Guys, I messed up so bad…” Danny whined, curling on Sam's enormous bed covered in fluffy blankets and nice pillows.

“What did you do this time?” girl asked with a smirk. Halfa was sometimes mad how well his friends knew him and didn't take his dramatics as seriously as he would like to.

“I wanted to have a sleepover at Team's HQ during Christmas, you know, to escape it. Only ones who will stay are Miss Martian and Superboy, aliens, so I thought it's a good idea. And then they asked me to show them ‘earthly Christmas traditions’ and I AGREED!” he yelled, his hands flying dramatically at the confession.

His friends, little traitors they were, just laughed.

He came to get some help, advice on either doing this introduction well because Danny Fenton was known for a lot of things but half-assing projects he agreed to do wasn't one of them (homework was obligatory without his consents ergo didn't count) or gracefully getting away from mess his idiocy brought onto him, not to be laughed at! He had enough of it at other times.

Though they got to work when they calmed down, making Danny revisit the idea of not talking to them ever again and throwing it out of the window.

“Alright,” Tucker started, preparing his note and planner apps before continuing “what do you want to show them? Gingerbread house?”

“Of course” Danny huffed because as much as he hated Christmas and its traditions, gingerbread house was decent one. Making one at Tucker's place three years ago when he had been introduced to the idea was one of his best memories related to the holiday. Even though it was cut short by trip to the ER because dumbass little Danny had wanted a little gingerbread man he set aside and he had eaten him still all fresh and 350°F hot and got severe burns in his mouth and throat because apparently his instinctual response to burning in his mouth was to swallow instead of to spit.

“Gifts.” Sam raised in a way that meant she was not taking any complaints and Danny didn't really want to argue. His track record with gifts from his parents wasn't too good ever since he had a brief just-like-dad phase and they didn't realize it ended after a month but other people knew how to fix it. The Voyager Lego set he got from Sam the year before still made him smile when his eyes landed on it.

Tucker noted it down. “What else? Christmas tree?”

Danny winced but nodded. He wasn't too fond of it but it was too big to miss it.

“Ugly sweaters?”

“Superboy would actually develop laser vision if I tried it”

“Movie marathon? I can lend you some DvDs”

“Yeah, it's probably a good idea. Kid Flash mentioned it too.”

“Santa Claus?” Sam asked with a smirk and Danny threw a pillow at her.

“Who is Santa Claus? I never heard of him, must be a Rhode Island thing” he answered with a straight face, not knowing how many times he will have to repeat it.

Phantom: hey guys!

Phantom: want a Crisscross Christmas

Phantom: ?

Artemis: The what?

Phantom: oh, you know

Phantom: this thing were we draw aech othres names anf have to buy a gift

Kid Flash: you mena Secret Santa

Kid Flash: ???

Phantom: never heard of that

Phantom: thats a wierd naem

Phantom: but if rules match, call it whatever yoyu wnat

Aqualad: I like this idea

Robin: GIft drop-off on 27th is okay for everyone?

7 people liked this message

Robin: i take that for yes. 50$ budget?

Kid Flash: Robin, Rob, Bob, my best pal. I have 5$ and single slice of bubblegum to my name rn

Kid Flash: No, actually no bubblegum anymore

Kid Flash: 10$ is top I could spend

Phantom: Same

Artemis: Same

Aqualad: Me too

Miss Martian: I'm not sure if me and Superboy have any money, actually

Phantom: See Rob?

Phantom: just be a good samamritanina and give them 10$ instead og flaunting batmans money

***

"Important question. How do one pick a present?"

"You know, it's good if it's something personal, either in a way that it's something they want or need, a gag gift that'd be funny for both of you, or just something that made you think of them"

"Yeah, yeah, I read the mom blogs, none of this actually helps, what am I supposed to get for Artemis?!"

***

"Alright, so. I have a list of things I think you need to learn about Christmas. We're kinda late to the party, so I cut off some stuff because there is no way we would make it in time."

"Sounds about right, what do we start with?"

"Most classic of classics, the Christmas tree, Batman already greenlit it, so it's waiting outside"

***

"So, Christmas tree is evergreen plant, conifer, sometimes only branch or synthetically made model, that, if living, is cut down from Christmas tree nursery, and then put inside the house, usually in the living room or other space that is considered repre-"

"Danny, we live in society, we have basic knowledge on American traditions that is literally everywhere. We don't need it to be spoon fed to us in a voice more robotic way than Red Tornado, literal robot"

"Conner!"

"What?! I'm not wrong"

"Sorry. Let's get to decorating then?"

"If you want to ramble, we'd be more than happy to listen. It's obvious that you took a lot of care to learn everything."

"Speak for yourself"

"Conner!"

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, with what exactly do we plan to decorate it?"

"Oh, this one is easy. I asked around people to donate some stuff, and Batman got us few things after I asked for permission for the tree. He even asked Justice League to drop us some things too."

"That's nice of them"

"Yeah, though I'm a bit worried about gifts from Arrows and Robin, y'know. They all had this type of smile that means either a gag idea, merch or exploding glitter and I'm not sure which option scares me the most"

"Glitter"

"Yeah, you're right"

***

"Did… um… did Superman bring anything?"

"Yes, actually! He brought pretty big box of stuff and mentioned dropping of some food for Christmas in the morning or the afternoon of the first day. He said he was happy that you got the experience even if he isn't able to be the one to give it to you. I think he is coming around"

It was an interesting thing about Danny. He wasn't all that good with authority figures or frankly adults in general, and he never passed on the chance to tear in Superman for his treatment of Conner, if he saw the man, but in private he was surprisingly pro-Superman and tried to make them "see his perspective" with some pretty convincing arguments. Everyone else was still unimpressed but Danny never gave up.

M'gann still wasn't sure if in these circumstances she found it cute or annoying.

"Bullshit"

"If that's what you want to believe in"

***

"Oh, hello Megan! Red Tornado, would you like to join us in decorating the Christmas tree?"

"This… seems like a decent idea. What is the procedure of it?"

"We already put on the lights, so now we're placing baubles and other hanging decorations, before we finish off with paper chains and these fuzzy boas. We need them evenly spread out on all of the tree, preferably in a way, that things in similar colors aren't right next to each other, alright?"

"Yes, Phantom, instructions are clear"

"Great. Do we want some music in the background? My friends usually play some Christmas songs to get us all in 'the right mood' as he calls it?"

"Good idea, I'll play something."

"Thanks Meg"

"Just hear the sleigh bell jingling…"

"Is this… yeah, it's Carpenters, it's Jazz's favo- oh shit"

"Got it!"

"Nice catch Conner! Red Tornado, sorry I didn't clarify before, we're not decorating the side by the wall."

"Understood"

***

"We have only one last thing left then"

"Yeah?"

"The star at the top. The youngest child of the family usually get the honor. Conner, it's you time to shine~"

"Shut up already"

"How is he supposed to reach the top though? He can't fly"

"Step stool or someone has to hold him up lion king style"

"Lion king- Don't you dare! Keep those hands to yourself! Danny!

***

"So, what's next on your magical list?"

"Gingerbread house. It's a moment for you to shine Meg, because I'm absolute mess in the kitchen and I don't think Conner is much better"

"Actually-"

"blah, blah, blah, absolutely perfect, could be hired at Michelin star restaurant right this instant blah, blah, blah"

"Oh, you little-"

"I believe the arguments are supposed to start at the Christmas table and not before. It seemed to be consensus in my sources. Was I mistaken?"

Conner stopped dead in his tracks, as confused as M'gann at the question.

Danny laughed so hard he fell on the ground.

"Red Tornado, what does that mean?"

"There is no need to spread misinformation until we can get confirmation whether my sources were correct or not"

"Danny? Danny?! What does he mean?! Why are you laughing?!"

Danny just stayed curled on the floor, almost wheezing.

***

"So, we have all of the ingredients, right? Flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves-"

"I think it's still in the cabinet, let me grab it real quick"

"Alright, other than cloves, do we have salt, vegetable shortening, granulated sugar, molasses, an egg- I mean, applesauce? Yeah? Let's hope it'll work. Okay, I think were ready"

"Ginger?"

"What?"

"Do we have ginger ready?"

"I don't think so, I'm pretty sure we've run out about a week ago? Why- oh wait"

"Did we seriously forgot to get ginger to make The Gingerbread House?! It's literally in the name!"

They all just stood in silence for a long moment.

"We're idiots"

"Well said, well said"

"I believe there are better names to describe you in this situation. Unfortunately, I cannot recall them"

"Thanks Red Tornado, that was helpful"

"Maybe we can still buy it?"

"It's 10:34 PM, December 23rd, M'gann, what shop would even be open?"

"Shut up Conner, it's actually not a bad idea. I think I've seen- yes, there is something open until eleven, about five minutes out if I fly"

***

"There was no ginger at the shop, but I got cranberry for later, if needed, and some chips to snack on"

"It's fine, we found unopened pack of powdered ginger in the back of the cabinet"

"That's great! Give me a minute to return this packet I liberated on my way home?"

"Danny!"

***

"Hey, M'gann!"

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to invite your uncle to our dinner?"

"That's a great idea Conner, thank you!"

***

"Okay, wait, wait, wait, before you two get weirdly aggressive about it again-"

"We're not that aggressive and it's a serious matter"

"I don't have any ghosts to get of my misplaced aggression out on so I'm funneling it into cake decorating instead"

"M'gann, you literally are trying to choke him right now, Danny, even I know it's concerning and I have less than half a year of learning what is considered normal under my belt. Anyway, before you escalate it again, how about each one of us gets one side of the house and then we work in pairs on the roof?"

"I like that"

"But what about aesthetic integrity!"

"It's quite literally against the point of gingerbread house"

***

"Before we go to sleep, I believe it's a widespread tradition to leave milk and cookies for the Santa Claus on the Christmas Eve evening"

"Huh"

"What is it this time?"

"Nothing really, chill out Conner, I just never heard of that"

It was so clearly a lie it probably couldn't even be called that, but at this point everyone realized, that for some reason bearded man in red was a sore subject, and they stopped trying to learn why. Maybe some day he'd tell them.

***

"Sorry. This person is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone."

"Hey Dani, it's Danny. Merry Christmas, please let me know when you get that. I'm celebrating outside of home, safe, with some friends, so if you want, I can give you an address and you can drop by. They're all more than okay with ghost stuff and have a history of accepting someone similar to you without any questions. I'm sure they'd love you. Let me know you're alright and if you want to join us. Sorry I keep calling, I'm at the worrywart stage. Love you, please stay safe."

Danny was doing pretty well with this whole "organizing Christmas". Really. M'gann did kick him out to breathe a bit of fresh air (and wait for the Superman and food he was supposed to bring in) because his hands were shaking too much, but other than that he was fine. Really. He was getting a bit panicky because he didn't hear a word from his sister in the past week and usually she let them know if she knew she would go somewhere where that could happen but she just as often didn't because she spontaneously decided to do something else. Trackers they made her wear showed she was fine.

It didn't really help, he wasn't sure if there was anything less than actually hearing or preferably seeing her that could reassure him.

It wasn't even talking about all of the trouble that was a bit closer to home, because Christmas never meant anything good for him, with or without his parents stirring up the Santa-fight. They weren't there and yet, he still couldn't make himself believe it could be any better this time. For Ancients sake, he made sure there was no Santa Claus in whole Mountain, nothing to remind him of how it always was and his brain still decided to be stupid about it.

So now he was standing in thin hoodie out in Rhode Island winter, in hopes that cold would shock him out of spiraling, trying to keep his breaths even and not fly away because it felt all like a little too much at the moment. he was standing in thin hoodie out in Rhode Island winter, waiting for a man who would awkwardly try to do the whole 'I'm an adult you can trust' routine and then treat him like messenger pigeon to contact the child that actually wanted and needed him. He couldn't entirely blame him but-

"Are you quite alright?"

"I'm fine"

"Are you sure? It's quite cold to be dressed like this and your heartbeat is quite erratic."

"I'm fine as old wine Superman, please say your piece before someone comes to see what took me so long"

"Danny-"

"I'm serious. Leave it alone and just give me the food"

Superman looked a bit conflicted, clearly considering all of the potential pros and cons of digging in further and choose wrong.

"You're worried about Dani"

"You're the last person I want to talk to about her," Danny spat out, anxiety quickly turning into anger.

"Of course, but-"

"Have two civil conversations with your clone before trying to tell me how I should handle mine" As soon as these words left his mouth, Danny regretted them, if only a little, but he kept pushing "I told you about her to explain why I'm willing to vouch for you. It doesn't make you someone I'll confide in. It doesn't make you someone I trust. It doesn't make me approve of the way your handling it. It just means I understand. But you're an adult man and experienced hero with stable job and adult shit figured out and I'm a teenager with home just safe enough for me to stay and family that'd question how third child just showed up. We are not the same."

Superman flinched away at some point during the rant, looking properly humbled. He avoided eye contact and just reached forward to pass him hard plastic case filled with food containers and smaller boxes wrapped up in nice Christmas themed paper.

"Alright kiddo. Get it inside before you turn into a icicle. And tell Conner I wish him Merry Christmas, alright? I mean, I wish it to everyone but…"

Damn, if the "never meet your heroes" person wasn't right.

"You're a coward Superman. Come in and tell him that yourself"

***

Conner lashed out, as expected, but it was far more subdued than it would be just few month before. To his credit, Superman stayed the whole time it went down and only left when boy mostly calmed down and wouldn't feel like he was being ignored. Man even tried to respond to some allegations, though he wasn't really heard. Conner ranted some more after hero left, but overall it went better than Danny thought it would.

Then they had dinner, which went… surprisingly well. Apparently, not having to worry about being attacked by the main dish did wonders to Danny's overall jitters (and didn't everyone get super weird when he mentioned it). Not having people start nonsensical fights also helped. He knew better than to mention that.

Also, turns out that Superman or whoever he got to make them food was freaking amazing cook, thank you very much. Danny wasn't necessarily fasting, not in a way he knew some people did in the period preceding Christmas or at least on Christmas Eve, but the tension of past few days made it hard to eat a lot. It definitely lessened now that the thing was happening and seemingly going well, so he was absolutely ravenous. To be completely honest, as far as he could tell, everyone else matched his enthusiasm.

There was a bit off moment at the beginning, when Martian Manhunter asked him if he shouldn't be with his family during holidays, but Danny quickly and subtly brushed it off and nobody mentioned that afterwards.

He may have overeaten, actually, for once in his live, which he may regret in the morning, but at the moment, it made him quite content.

Then came the gifts, which also went better than he expected. For once there was no need to act like he enjoyed the gift despite already planning on how to get rid of it. Even better, focus was almost fully removed from him, obviously, because it wasn't his first rodeo.

Conner looked so lost and confused with the gift he got from Superman's mom, it was almost heartbreaking. It was beautiful crocheted scarf, black and red, with his symbol on each end, and an apology note explaining that Mrs Martha Kent would give him something more note worthy but she learned about him way to late to make something better. There was also promise of more worthy gift in near future. Danny knew all that because Conner read it out loud, asking everyone to help him make sense of that. There was only so much they could do.

Other than that, he got some nice flannel shirts from M'gann, quite a few sweets. He also got a book from Danny (it was a sin he didn't read "The Martian" before) and concepts of new hero suits for him, that Sam somehow sneaked between the pages. It was certainly a lot to explain without making anyone angry.

M'gann got two different cook books, that unfortunately didn't include Fenton fudge recipe (Dad was really protective over it), some surprisingly obscure merch from "Hello Megan" and more sweets.

Red Tornado got an apron and few tokens of appreciation, that robot quite liked, as far as Danny could tell.

Martian Manhuter, due to how rarely he visited, was the hardest to pick presents for, which resulted in some general little trinkets.

Danny got night sky projector, which was really cool, and potted plant, for some reason, which, while also cool, because plants are cool (Sam would rekill him if he thought otherwise), he knew far too well, would not survive until July. It wasn't only because he could barely take care of himself, let alone whole ass plant (see also, that one time he either drowned or dried three cacti), but also because of the times ghosts (or home security) attacked him in his room. He was thankful anyway. Maybe it could push him into finally getting some contingencies against that, that’d actually work. After all, it was quite a pretty plant.

By the time they moved to the couch to watch “Die Hard” of all things (it was only DVD that Tucker provided that didn’t have Santa Claus as a prominent character, because of course that little traitor would do that), Danny had to admit that this Christmas was… nice. Enjoyable. Pretty amazing actually. Good enough that he could understand people waiting for it the whole year. He couldn’t tell that he joined their ranks, but he certainly could understand them.

It was also downright exhausting and at some point even dynamic fights of John McClane couldn’t keep his eyes open. It was fine though. He was safe, he was warm, almost squeezed against his friends. It was good place to just relax.

It’s been first time in a long time since he felt that on Christmas.

********

I'm not sure if I managed to properly Conner's... whole thing, if he turned out too hostile, let's just say he was still pissed about the whole "wasn't invited to Clark's family gathering" thing and it made him a bit more antsy.

I'm not sure how well I managed to handle it, but I don't want to bash neither Clark nor Conner. They're both victims in this situation and while the way Clark handled it was far from ideal, it's also far from worst he could do and I believe he deserves a bit more grace. In the end, on psychological level he is just human and humans don't always handle being baby trapped perfectly. Maybe I have more understanding towards him because my prefered way of handling conflicts is walking out and locking myself in my room, but idk. Maybe I'm capable of more coherent explanation when it's not 3:44 AM

Ginger shenanigans were inspired by my own Christmas preparation adventures, when I was making bread dough for the Christmas Eve and decided to add rosemary to make it more ✨festive✨ and got really attached to the idea. My mom agreed, then it turned out we didn't have any, then I went to the shop like twenty minutes before it closed at 11PM so at least one guy was there to replenish his alcohol suplies. My mom called to tell me to also buy some powdered garlic and beetroot. Turned out we had rosemary at home. At shop I only found garlic. I also brought energy drink, because I was tired but had more stuff to do and some snacks just because.

Bread turned out pretty good.

I sincerely believe if I was solely responsible of making gingerbread, I would forget to get ginger (or like, to fit with "it's in the name" thing, pepper, because in Polish it's "piernik")

I'm really sorry if the drop in quality by the end is noticable, if this thing stayed unfinished whole another year i'd do something I'd regret later.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #by the way Dani is fine #she is in Atlantis after she helped beached whale back into the ocean #her phone is water proof but was not made to get reception at the ocean floor #but two days after Christmas Danny will get message from Kaldur's phone that'll read #Dani here; I'm fine got invited to sea kingdom and-#-it's amazing bye #to be honest it was quite curious thing to have #mostly because despite both Poland and US being part of the Western culture there are quite a few differences #and I can do all the research I want (I suck at in-depth research)#there is no way in hell I'll understand it #especially considering my family is practicing Catholic and Poland historically is Catholic so our traditions are heavily affected #anyway feel free to yell at me if I fucked up representing American Christmas spirit and the way it would look in a friend group #and feel free to ask if you're curious about Polish traditions if you want #sorry for not including team gift exchange #I have no energy to think about what they could get for each other #feel free to write it yourself if you want to #I'd love to read it #christmas #christmas fic #wandixx writes #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

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munson-blurbs · 10 months ago

Text

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: News from an old friend had you wondering if Eddie's sour mood had turned downright destructive. (4.9k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, misunderstanding, coming out, vandalism, parental conflict, poverty, jealousy, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter seven: offense and defense

Your version of a truce came in the form of wallpaper panels and a bucket of glue.

You’d placed it on top of the canvas sheets that would protect the floor from any spills, though it wasn’t as if that was presentable, either. Still, you would be grateful for the splash of color rather than the stripped down walls that only highlighted the motel’s defeated aesthetic.

Like lipstick on a pig, your cynicism taunted, but one that you’ve stuck on a spit to roast.

Your fingernail picked at a small groove in the desk’s wood as if digging a hole to bury your anxiety. Despite the police sirens blaring in the distance, all you could hear was the sound of the mailbox clanging shut, trapping your acceptance letter and effectively sealing your fate.

Your breathing sped up and sent your heartbeat into your ears, inching you towards a point of no return where the world became hazy. Suddenly, Eddie’s mood was irrelevant; you just needed a distraction, even if that meant contending with his strangely defensive attitude.

But when eleven o’clock rolled around, a full hour into your shift. there was still no sign of him. You’d give him another thirty minutes before you knocked on his door; he had a job to finish, after all.

That was all it was: ensuring he earned his keep, preventing him from becoming the deeply feared charity case.

In the end, there was no need to intrude on him. Eddie shuffled through the lobby not even fifteen minutes later, seemingly without the intention of stopping to greet you. He looked straight ahead as though any eye contact would burn his retinas from the inside out. His tattooed arms were on full display in a black tank top, the holes cut down nearly to the waist. A chain hung off the side of his jeans, gleaming even in the harsh lighting. The whole outfit was a far cry from the sweatpants he’d donned during the wallpaper removal.

“Eddie?”

He stopped but still refused to glance in your direction. There was no use ignoring the confusion in your voice; he didn’t even bother waiting for the formality of a question. “Y-Yeah, I, um…I gotta run some errands.” His teeth dug into the inside of his cheek at his pitiful excuse.

Errands just before midnight? He certainly wasn’t dressed to make a last-minute dash to the corner bodega, nor would that take all night.

He was lying; that much was obvious. What evaded you was why. Was he embarrassed about his outburst at Eisen’s? Angry at you for freezing him out during the ride home?

“What about the wallpaper?”

“Oh. Right.” He softly chuckled, the kind that someone gives when they’ve been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Tomorrow, I promise.”

He didn’t stick around for further questioning, letting in a cool evening breeze when he barreled out the front door.

Aggravation clenched your fists. His lackadaisical approach to work was infuriating enough, but the way he’d attempted to sneak past you had you seething. Did he truly believe he could camouflage himself and walk out unnoticed?

The untouched wallpapering materials mocked you, taunted your optimism. Or perhaps it was naivety. You’d all but told him to piss off last night, yet you expected him to flounce into the lobby, eager to work alongside you–and only you–for the next few hours? The thought alone was so pathetic that you were glad no one else had been around to witness it.

You hoisted the panels and glue back to the supply closet, gripping them with palms slick from embarrassment and frustration. Tonight could have been an opportunity to clear the air about the Ben fiasco and resume your usual lighthearted conversations. His brusque laughter didn’t showcase the subtle dimples that pressed from the corners of his mouth into his cheeks, so unlike the genuine smiles that reached his eyes. Those warm eyes like chocolate chips on a summer day, except they melted you with each foray into his past, each glimpse into what made him, him.

Without them, the night was stagnant.

Amy’s Cafe was a favorite among the student population, especially during finals week. The coffee was usually burnt or weak, but it was cheap and conveniently located near campus, so it stayed afloat. Overworked baristas slid filled-to-the-brim mugs and to-go styrofoam cups to the edge of the counter, hissing espresso machines punctuating the pop music that was piped through the sound system. Exactly the kind of music Eddie would hate.

Eddie. He must have had an extensive errand list, because he still hadn’t returned when your shift ended. Your chest ached with a sadness that burned hotter than your curiosity. You no longer cared what he was up to, just that he preferred it to spending time with you.

Ben already sat at a small table when you arrived, the steam from his cup rising up and fogging his wire-rimmed glasses. He offered you a weary smile, one wrought with fatigue and a nervousness you couldn’t quite place.

It wasn’t until you plopped into the seat across from him, careful not to spill your own coffee, that you noticed the gray crescents below his eyes that weren’t there on Sunday. Stubble coated his cheeks and chin, more five o’clock shadow than beard, and you were hard-pressed to remember a time he’d seemed this disheveled.

“You look like shit.”

He raised his brows as he blew on his tea, sending tiny ripples through the citrusy-mint blend. “You sure know how to flatter a guy.”

Between the usual end-of-semester stress and whatever issues were simmering between you and Eddie, you lacked the patience to beat around the bush. “Seriously,” you insisted, “what’s wrong?”

Ben’s sigh held immeasurable weight, and you quickly understood why. “Eisen’s was vandalized last night,” he said quietly.

“What?!” Your blood ran cold. The mental image of the always-pristine shop abruptly destroyed marred your psyche.

He nodded. “Yeah. We empty the register at night and put the cash in a safe, so they didn’t get any of that,” he explained, a small consolation. “But they smashed the windows and graffitied the place. All of the shelves, our whole inventory…covered in it.”

“Is everyone…is your family okay?” If the alarm had sounded and Uncle Mo or Aunt Tam came running in…if the intruder was carrying a weapon…

“We’re fine,” Ben assured you. “I mean, we’re all pretty shook up, but no one’s hurt.” His bottom teeth scraped along his upper lip. “I swept up most of the broken glass after the cops left, but it’s gonna take a while to scrub off the spray paint.”

“I can help,” you volunteered without hesitation. “I can swing by on Thursday afternoon.” There were no formal classes this week; you just had to drop off your paper and then you could go to the shop.

“Thanks.” Ben kept his attention focused on his mug, dunking the bag aimlessly through the hot liquid. “Um, was your, uh, boyfriend with you last night?” When you wrinkled your nose, he elaborated. “That Eddie guy. He’s your boyfriend, right?”

You shook your head and tried to ignore the internal fluttering spurred on by the thought of Eddie being your boyfriend. “No. He just works for us.” Thirty-six hours ago, you would have referred to him as a friend, but you didn’t know if that was still true.

Ben cocked an eyebrow. “You sure? Because he seemed pretty…” He searched for the right word, “...territorial over you.”

Territorial. As if you belonged to him. The notion was almost humorous, considering his desperation to avoid you at all costs. If you were his property, he must be a very hands-off landlord.

“It’s not like that. He just gets competitive.” You filled Ben in on the wasp nest saga, even managing to pull a few chuckles out of him.

“Okay, fine.” Something in Ben’s tone informed you that he didn’t quite believe you, but he pressed on, both of you well-aware that your love life wasn’t the most urgent issue. “But was he around last night? Hanging the wallpaper or something?”

He wasn’t. You wished more than anything that you could offer an alibi, but you didn’t have a clue where he was.

It’s a big city; there were millions of places he could go besides Eisen’s. And yet you couldn’t name a single one, your throat bone-dry despite just taking a sip of coffee.

“N-No, but he wouldn’t—”

“I’m not saying he did,” Ben interjected, firmly but not unkindly. “It’s just, I dunno, a little suspicious that this guy comes to our shop for the first time, hates my guts for some reason, and then the place gets destroyed the next day.”

There was no denying how strange it was, especially coupled with his poorly explained absence. Something inside you insisted that it wasn’t Eddie, and you clung onto that hope.

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” Bitterness churned in your stomach and crept up your throat, and you knew it wasn’t from the coffee. Was there anything about the way he’d been dressed that provided insight into his whereabouts? Anything he’d mentioned in passing?

Despite scouring the depths of your brain, you came up empty.

Ben exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut like he was actively trying to forget the memory of the break-in. “Everything was completely smashed. Like someone took a baseball bat to it or something.”

You flashed back to last week when Eddie went after the wasp’s nest with Phyllis’s bat. Did he ask her to borrow it again?

Stop it, you silently scolded yourself. It couldn’t have been Eddie. He might be hotheaded, but that didn’t mean he would destroy Eisen’s.

Except he had trashed that hotel room because the manager issued a noise complaint. He’d seemed proud of it, laughing as he retold the story, like he’d carried out some meticulously crafted revenge plot.

Shit.

“You’re sure there’s nothing going on between you two?” Ben asked again, ripping open another sugar packet and dumping it into his drink.

“Positive.” Certainly not now when you were barely on speaking terms.You didn’t have time for a relationship; school and work kept you sufficiently busy.

Not that you wanted anything going on with Eddie. What would you even do together–go on dates at six AM after your shift? Hold hands across the lobby desk? Steal kisses in the supply closet? The two of you making out amongst piles of linens and a rusty toolbox? Your fingers tangled in his hair and your lips pressed to his; his hands gripping your waist and tugging you impossibly close? You couldn’t allow yourself to even consider it a possibility, to allow yourself to want it.

You noticed Ben giving you a wry smile, like he knew something you didn’t, and you snapped back into reality to volley a question back to him. “What about you? Meet any cute girls in dental school?”

His unexpected cloudiness didn’t match your breezy, teasing tone. “No cute girls.” He paused, mulling over his words for a while before talking again, so softly you could barely hear him over the muzak playing over the café’s sound system. “There were some cute guys, though.”

The admission hung in the air for a moment while you slowly absorbed it. Cute guys, not girls. So Ben was—

A soft throat clearing grabbed your attention; he was anxiously awaiting your response.

Reaching your hand across the Formica table, you draped your fingers over his and left them there. “How did you…know?” You winced at your own awkwardness. “Sorry, I meant, like, is this something you figured out recently? Or did you know back when we were kids?”

Ben laughed lightly, his shoulders sagging with relief. The worry of rejection left his eyes as he spoke. “Part of me always knew, I think. I just didn’t have a word for it.” He sighed, his breath trembling with residual nerves. “It’s not like we grew up talking about these things.”

He was right; you couldn’t recall a single time that his parents or yours discussed non-heterosexual romantic relationships. A man and a woman get married and have babies. The end. No mention of when two men or two women love one another.

“Have you told your parents?”

“No.” His voice caught, throat blocked with emotion, and he cleared it again. “I wanted to wait until I finished school and got my own place. Y’know…just in case.”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence.

“Would they really do that?”

He shrugged, his shoulders once again bearing the weight of the unknown. “I don’t think they’d kick me out,” he admitted, “but they’d definitely be disappointed. Like they did something wrong.”

“You know you can always stay with me if you need,” you said. “I’ll set aside a room for you.” Far away from Eddie’s, you added silently.

Ben’s smile was tight but genuine. “After all of these years, nothing’s changed.” He let out a hoarse laugh. “Does it get exhausting, being the best person ever?”

He was joking, trying his best to shift to a lighter tone, but the accuracy of his question had you temporarily reeling. You weren’t the best person ever, but it was exhausting constantly trying to be. He must have sensed that he grazed a nerve, his eyes softening as he leaned in. “You okay?”

You nodded, your head suddenly acquiring the heft of a boulder. The sound of the mailbox clanging shut and sealing your fate reverberated in your ears. And then Eddie had seen, had cleaned your smudged mascara so warmly that your skin simmered at his touch. Those same fingers might have grasped a can of spray paint or and wielded a bat with the intention of ravaging an innocent business.

“You always were a terrible liar.” Ben said. He knew you too well, a blessing and a curse. “C’mon—a secret for a secret.”

His permission had your own confession slipping from where it had been tucked away and spilling into the conversation. “I’m majoring in psychology and I’m going to study social work at NYU.” When Ben offered you a confused look, you humbly elaborated. “And, I mean, I know it’s not the same thing as your situation, but I haven’t told my parents about it either.”

The shame burned you, flames nipping at your neck.

Ben drummed his fingers against the mug’s handle, his nails making a soft cling. “The motel…” he trailed off, mutual understanding replacing the rest of his words.

Neither of you said anything else for a while, only taking small sips of coffee until you mustered up the energy to speak again.

“I don’t think they’d kick me out either,” you said, “but that might not matter. Without me to take over, they’d have to sell the place anyway.”

Ben thought for a moment. A teardrop of coffee trickled down the lip to the base, staining the white porcelain with a hazel streak. “Whatever happens, I’m here for you.” It was his turn to hold your hand, enveloping it in the comfort that can only come from a lifelong friend. “And if worse comes to worst, you can always bunk with me. As long as Eddie won’t mind,” he added with a mischievous edge.

You rolled your eyes as the heaviness evaporated. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He raised his brows. “You didn’t see the look on his face when I hugged you. I thought he was gonna knock me into tomorrow.”

“Whatever,” you said evenly, swiftly pivoting the subject to his own romantic endeavors. But the image of Eddie getting upset when Ben hugged you tugged at your mind for the rest of the conversation. You’d initially thought he was irritated about Ben encroaching on his job, but the hug came well before the offer to help.

Trying to figure out Eddie Munson, you realized, was like jamming a puzzle piece where it didn’t belong. He would remain an enigma until you found the right spot.

Afternoon bled into night, the overcast skies resulting in a noticeable absence of stars. Rain had been threatening to fall all day, but the humidity still bogged down the clouds when Eddie walked into the lobby at ten-thirty.

“Hey,” he said, raising one hand in an enthusiastic half-wave. His eyes met yours for only a second before pulling away. “I’ll just grab the paper from the supply closet.”

You tossed him the key and he caught it, clenching it in his palm. He smiled, victoriously but fleetingly once he realized it wasn’t being returned. Defeated, he trudged over to the closet. You normally would have followed and helped, but you were held down by what you knew–what you might know, you reminded yourself.

“You, uh, didn’t set up,” he said, shaking out the drop cloth and positioning it against the molding.

“Didn’t know if you had another secret errand to run.” The retort left your lips before you could stop it, and you pinched them together in a belated attempt to quell your anger.

Eddie bristled, his brush halfway in the vat of glue, but he quickly composed himself and got back to work. You focused your attention on your essay, scanning it for the millionth time in search of misplaced commas or missing words.

Perfect. It needed to be perfect.

Silence once again overtook the motel lobby, broken only by the sounds of Eddie slicing the wallpaper at the edges, not bothering to measure before adhering it to the exposed plaster, and the outside traffic.

You were comfortable with the prolonged quiet, though admittedly less so than before Eddie arrived a few weeks ago, but it must have gnawed at him. He started humming after only fifteen minutes, an unfamiliar tune, smooth in some places and staccato in others.

“Are you still mad at me or something?”

You loathed the way his voice startled you, your mind too deeply buried in your paper. It caused you to look up and lock eyes with him. His question was wrought with frustration, though you couldn’t tell if it was directed at you or at his own inability to decipher the situation.

“No.” Yes.

Eddie sighed and continued working. “Well, if you change your mind, just know that I’m sorry.”

His apology brought back memories of his previous attempt—though ‘attempt’ might be overstating it, and you didn’t want to bite back your response. “It isn’t me you need to apologize to.”

He didn’t bother turning to you when he spoke. “You’re talking about that Bill guy?”

“Ben,” you corrected him, willing yourself to unclench your jaw, “and yes. You were rude to him for no reason.” You pushed aside Ben’s explanation, an improbability in itself.

“I had a reason.” Venom dripped from each word. “Trust me, I could’ve done worse things than hurt his feelings.”

And as his grip tightened around the brush, one bluish vein bulging in his forearm, you remembered how gleeful he’d admitted to trashing the hotel. How Ben had said that Eisen’s looked as though someone took a baseball bat to it.

“The store was vandalized last night.”

All of the oxygen in the room evaporated. Eddie’s unamused chuckle, low in his throat, fissured the silent tension and made it palpable. Real. “And you think I did it.”

“I never said that.”

But you and he both knew that you didn’t have to; the slight tremor in your voice giving away your true intentions. Even if you weren’t outright accusing him, your tone had too much bite to be conversational.

He threw the brush to the ground and it landed against the cloth with an audible thud. “Whatever.” Another grim laugh, each step towards the desk had your heart sinking further into your chest. “Y’know, I’ve already had a pretty shitty week, and I thought talking to you could turn it around. Should’ve known better.” He wiped his palms on his blue jeans and procured a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, lighting one and taking a long drag.

You could only imagine the restraint it took for him not to exhale a cloud of smoke directly in your face.

It was a replay of the situation with Izzy’s mother, the assumptions that steeled you against her before you’d ever met and had you painting her as a neglectful parent. Her palpable worry was a slap across your face, and you felt that same sting now with Eddie.

Ruined it. With one stupid comment, you’d obliterated all of the trust built between you.

“Excuse me, but I have a very busy evening ahead of me,” he said, pointing the cigarette in your direction like an accusation of his own. “I’m supposed to commit arson in fifteen minutes, and if I have time, I might just murder someone.”

No doubt you were at the top of his list.

The realization of your mistake released an anchor of guilt down your stomach. You should have trusted your instincts, should have immediately eschewed any notion that he was the culprit.

You hated yourself for even considering it a possibility, let alone a probability.

“For a sophisticated city girl, you sure remind me of the small-town pricks I grew up with,” Eddie continued, spittle gathering at the corner of his lips. Rage burned in his eyes. “Guess none of those textbooks taught you how to ask questions, huh? Like, ‘Eddie, where were you last night?’ That might’ve been a good start.”

His words were submerged in a poisonous vitriol, purposefully launched with the intent to maim. And yet they weren't inherently aimed at you. Not all of them, anyway.

In that moment, you were everyone who had ever accused him of a crime he hadn’t committed. You were the security guards who ‘kept an eye’ on him when he went shopping, the middle-aged women who scowled and clutched their pearls at his tattoos, the people in his hometown who wrote him off as a devil-worshiping freak.

Guilty until proven innocent.

The fingers on your left hand slotted between the gaps on your right and pressed into your palm, a distraction from the lump forming in your throat. Crying was not an option, it exposed your vulnerability and opened you up to further ridicule. The only thing worse than Eddie using your tears against you was if he took pity on you; there was no way you could handle that level of humiliation.

“Eddie, I—”

You’d finally found your footing in the conversation, and it was promptly clipped. “Just assumed that I was off breaking and entering. A little blue collar crime is nothing new for trailer trash like me, right?” He shook his head in faux disbelief. “Is this how you’re gonna treat your clients?”

That final comment was a lit match that ignited a powderkeg within you, and since you refused to shed a single tear, it exploded in the only other way possible.

“You,” you jabbed your finger into his chest, no longer caring about whatever professional boundaries you might be crossing. Those had flown out the window once he’d purposely dredged up your insecurities. “You are the one who bailed on your job with the lamest excuse I’d ever heard and expected me not to get suspicious.” Your heart beat double-time, pumping raw anger in lieu of blood. “And you are the one who bragged about trashing a hotel room when the manager had the audacity to enforce a rule.”

Eddie took a small step back, your biting reply an arrow to the gut. Perhaps even he felt it, too; the way he’d taken his tirade over the line. Gray flakes fell from his cigarette and onto the desk, the ashy clump having grown too heavy for gravity.

You weren’t done, despite his apparent surrender. “You’re not my client. And I’m not Nancy Drew, so don’t act like I’m responsible for solving your bullshit mysteries.”

His nostrils flared as he regained his composure. “Asking a question isn’t—” a door creaking open and subsequent irritated footsteps halted his retort. Both of you broke eye contact to watch as Phyllis padded up the hallway and into the lobby. Irritation accentuated her smeared-lipstick frown, and she pulled her robe across her body, tugging on the belt in frustration.

“I don’t know what this little lovers’ quarrel is about,” she hissed through clenched teeth, dragging an arthritic finger between you and Eddie, “but it’s killing the mood. So if you could wrap it up, we’d greatly appreciate it.”

You nearly choked on your tongue, and pink splotches decorated Eddie’s stubbled cheeks.

“We’re not—”

“It isn’t—”

But Phyllis had already stalked back to her room, never one to keep a gentleman caller waiting.

Neither you nor Eddie said a word for a few seconds, the heat of embarrassment still nipping at your bodies. A lovers’ quarrel? Phyllis clearly had a convoluted sense of romance if she thought you and Eddie were lovers.

Eddie shattered the silence first, mumbling something nearly unintelligible about needing an ashtray. The dam that restrained your snarkiness had apparently buckled and burst, because when he turned to leave, his back to you, you called out, “see how easy it is to tell me where you’re going?”

He stopped, the cigarette between his fingers now ash down to the filter, but he didn’t turn around. His voice was low in his throat, a slight tremor as he spoke. “That’s real rich, coming from the person whose parents think she’s going to school for hospitality.”

That was low, but unlike his comment about accusing your future clients, this one was true. There was nothing you could say in response, no rebuttal would suffice. You hated the way words stilled in your chest, wishing you could fling insult after insult about his failed music career, but you were simply too tired.

You managed to stave off your tears until he had fully rounded the corner, burying your head in your hands to muffle your sobs. Pathetic. That’s what you were: a pathetic mess, bold enough to start an argument but too cowardly to finish it. And so there you stood, elbows digging into the wooden desktop until splinters pierced your skin, the distance between you and Eddie growing with each passing second.

Holding your own with other guests was usually second-nature for you, but other guests weren’t Eddie. They weren’t hanging around the lobby and asking you about your hopes and dreams. They weren’t willingly offering up their most vulnerable selves just to reassure you. They weren’t tagging along on errands and turning ordinary subway rides into small adventures.

They also weren’t sneaking around and making watered-down excuses, then painting you as the bad guy for doubting their intentions.

Half of you ached to apologize; the other half wanted to toss him and his trash bag luggage to the curb and not look back.

Warm tears slid down the slope of your nose until you tasted their salt on your lips. Stopping them seemed an impossible task, your mind hovering above your body like a separate entity altogether. Your breaths were jagged and uneven, an irregular pattern of shallow inhales and strained exhales.

There was no sense in throwing yourself a pity party, not when you got yourself into this mess. If you were going to wallow in your own misery, you could at least be productive while you cried.

Eddie had barely started the re-wallpapering, so cleaning up was not a daunting task. You rolled the paper back around the tube, keeping it tightly wound for easier transport. It was clunky; you had to adjust it twice in the short distance to the closet, but you managed to get it there with it unraveling.

A gentle scrape across the desk made you peek out from behind the closet door, your red-stained, swollen eyes landing on Eddie once again. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lower lip, his fingers clenched around the jet-black lighter you hadn’t noticed he’d left behind.

He saw you, too, his lips forming a tense smile.

“Forgot this,” he said, holding up the lighter with a little shake. The jaded lines of his face softened when he clocked your tear-streaked cheeks, and that minor show of sympathy had you eager to crawl beneath a rock.

You waited for him to say something, anything, but he just let his gaze fall to where you were twisting the lid back onto the glue. Tucking the cigarette behind his ear and covering it with a curtain of curls, he hoisted the bucket and brought it back to the supply closet.

“Thanks.” It was safe yet genuine, not an invitation for a conversation nor a dismissal.

Eddie shrugged. “S’fine,” he lisped, the cigarette placed back between his lips as he lit it. “Needed to clean up anyway.”

Optimism—whatever you could muster up of it—rattled against your ribcage like a prisoner yearning for freedom. If he cared about cleaning up, maybe that meant he was going to finish the job another time. You didn’t dare ask him, only nodding your head in acknowledgment.

Friends fight, right? Your nagging need for reassurance poised the question on the tip of your tongue, but your fear of looking desperate anchored it there. I didn’t ruin everything, did I?

The flick of the lighter sparked a flame, Eddie’s hand protectively cupped around it. “Well, um, g’night,” he said, giving an awkward half-wave.

“Good night.” Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow. But you didn’t manage that addendum, and Eddie retreated to his room.

When you slept that morning, you dreamt that he turned back around.

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